Blind Date

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Blind Date Page 4

by Bruce Richards


  "Did you see Bozwell's pants?" Ellen asked Alicia. Mr. Bozwell was their biology teacher. "His pants were hanging so low I could see…"

  "Uh, no, I didn't notice," Alicia interrupted, disgusted by the cheerleader queen.

  The jocks walked toward Evan's table. Alicia followed them with her gaze, an uneasy feeling growing inside her.

  "Hasn't that man ever heard of a belt?" Ellen said sarcastically. "I hate it when he sits on the edge of my desk — Hello? Alicia?" Ellen rapped her knuckles on the lunch table. "Anybody home?"

  "Hmmm?" Alicia responded, her attention elsewhere. Boomer and Johnny and their pals were now clustered around Evan's table. A gathering of vultures.

  "I said Bozwell's — what is the matter with you?" Ellen asked with exasperation.

  Alicia watched as Johnny started to lift the cover off the thing next to Evan. Evan pulled the object out of Johnny's reach. When Johnny tried again, Evan smashed his lunch tray on Johnny's hand.

  Heads turned at the hard, loud slap.

  Johnny's hand was bright red.

  The jocks ooohed, egging Johnny on.

  "Are they picking on Weird Evan again?" Ellen asked. "How boring." But now she was watching, too. "What's that thing Evan has on the table?"

  Johnny was behind Evan now, yanking up on his underwear. The wedgie made Evan topple forward. He caught himself on the edge of the table and kicked back at Johnny, but he missed.

  "He kicks like a girl," one of the jocks shouted.

  Alicia shook her head in disgust. Why did boys always have to fight? What did they have to prove?

  Evan tried to kick Johnny again. This time he got him.

  Alicia felt excited, happy, realizing this was the first time she had ever seen Evan fight back.

  Johnny tried to knock over Evan, then Evan dove headfirst into Johnny's stomach. They collided into the stack of trays and knocked it over.

  Chairs scraped back as an excited buzz shot through the crowd.

  "Weird Evan Walker's getting his ass kicked," someone shouted. The whole cafeteria was up on its feet.

  Ellen stood on top of the table to get a better look.

  "Look out, Johnny!" she suddenly screamed. "He's got a knife!"

  Chapter 8

  The bell above Alicia's locker rang loudly, startling her. She tossed her books to the floor of her locker. The hallway was nearly empty now. Most kids were already in their classrooms, or rushing to get there. Alicia had a free period next so there was no need for her to hurry.

  She needed to relax after the fight in the cafeteria. The incident had unnerved her. Fortunately, Mr. Bozwell had broken up the fight before anyone had gotten hurt.

  Before Evan stabbed Johnny.

  Before the jocks beat Evan to a bloody pulp.

  She found her worn copy of Salinger's Catcher in the Rye on the top shelf of her locker and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. She'd find a quiet spot and read. She wanted to be alone and chill out.

  Alicia checked herself out in the small mirror attached to the inside of her locker door. Critical brown eyes stared back at her. She should have done more back in the cafeteria.

  It's not like I'm Evan's guardian angel or something, Alicia reminded herself.

  She ran a hand through her unruly auburn hair — the hair that always looked like the wind had just destroyed it — and wondered what it would look like if it were blonde. Like Ellen's. She rubbed away a smudge of mascara underneath one eye, then straightened the brown-striped shirt she wore over a blue tank top that matched her jeans.

  She played with her hair some more, trying a different look. But what she really wanted to do was to try on a different personality. A personality that wasn't jealous. A personality that would stand up for Evan even if it pissed off her friends.

  She slammed her locker door shut in disgust and walked down the nearly empty hallway toward the back double doors that lead out to the parking lot. She'd find a sunny place to read. She turned a corner and two teachers hurried by, probably late for their own classes. She heard the sound of boys' voices rumbling up from the gym class downstairs.

  The principal's office door swung open a few feet ahead of her. Mr. Bozwell walked out and hurried away.

  Before the door closed she caught a glimpse of Evan. He was sitting by himself at the end of a long, hard, wooden bench, the mystery object beside him.

  The door slammed shut then and Evan disappeared from sight.

  Sudden feelings of guilt engulfed her. She realized that she had never actually spoken to Evan, not really. He had moved to Elm Street to live with his uncle after his parents had died. That was when he was about nine. In all those years, she had never had an actual conversation with him.

  Now, she decided, was as good a time as any.

  She tugged nervously at her hair and took a few more steps toward the principal's office. She opened the door just a crack.

  Evan noticed her immediately.

  The ceiling light reflected off his nerdy, black glasses. Even with those thick lenses, she imagined Evan's eyesight must still be pretty poor. Maybe the stare that unnerved so many of her friends was really just the blank expression of a boy who couldn't see more than a few feet past his own face.

  "Alicia?" Evan called.

  With a start, Alicia stepped back and closed the door.

  So much for that idea.

  She became angry at herself for being such a coward. Just what the hell am I afraid of anyway? she asked herself harshly.

  Gathering her resolve, Alicia pushed the door wide open and tried to act casual as she wandered into the principal's outer office.

  "Evan. Hi," she began.

  Evan's mouth gaped open, but no words came out.

  Alicia glanced around her, trying to maintain her facade of nonchalance. The outer office was deserted except for Evan and the thing at his feet covered by the lacy cloth.

  Evan stared at her. Neither of them spoke.

  Now what? Alicia wondered as the wall clock above Evan's head ticked loudly. She tried to think of something to say, to break the silence, break the tension she felt at being alone with Evan.

  "You're not a dangerous criminal I shouldn't be sitting with, are you?" she joked.

  Evan smiled. It was the first smile Alicia had ever seen on his face.

  "Of course not," he said. He carefully moved the mystery object to the other side of his feet. "Please sit down," he added formally.

  Alicia sat on the wooden bench next to Evan.

  "As I'm sure you already know, I'm not much of a fighter. To be honest, I'm a bit of a coward…" Evan began.

  Alicia was caught off guard by Evan's frankness. She felt a smile coming over her. "You did all right in the cafeteria," she said.

  Evan laughed. His mouth stretched into a bitter gash. "The worm turned, I guess. It was worth it to watch Murphy's eyes bug out. I hate that guy. I hate them all."

  Despite the rancor, Alicia found his words oddly eloquent.

  "So, are they going to suspend you?" she asked.

  Evan shrugged. "They're trying to reach my uncle now. I don't know. And I don't care."

  Evan's uncle — the accident — dead on arrival. Alicia shuddered. She had to ask. "Is he okay? Your uncle."

  "Yes. Why do you ask?" Evan said.

  "Well, uh, Boomer said his father was at the hospital last night and your uncle was…" She couldn't bring herself to say the word dead.

  "It was the lightning," Evan said. "A bolt of lightning struck our house about midnight. It must have hit our TV antenna or something. I was in the basement working. I heard a loud thump and rushed upstairs and found my uncle lying on the floor. Apparently his heart stopped on the way to the hospital, but they revived him after a few minutes."

  "You mean he was dead? They brought him back from the dead?" Alicia asked, her eyes wide.

  "I guess that's one way of looking at it. But at the hospital, one of the doctors explained that it wasn't a heart attack or a str
oke or anything like that. His heart just stopped beating. But what was really strange was the way he looked early this morning when I went to visit him. He seemed healthier than ever. The doctors could find nothing wrong with him. His heart and blood pressure were normal — better than before. The doctors tried to convince him to stay for a few days of observation, but Uncle Manfred demanded to be released right away."

  And a few hours later, he almost killed us, Alicia thought. "I'm glad to hear he's all right," she told Evan.

  "He's fine. He'll probably outlive me now that the entire football team is trying to kill me." Evan removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Boomer and his buddies have been trying to get me for a long time." Evan pursed his lips. "Someone put a dead cat in Scott Martin's car trunk and they blamed me. And I love cats. They're a pack of wolves. But then you know that — you date one."

  "It was probably Boomer himself who did it," Alicia said.

  "If it was one of my cats, he'll pay," Evan said in a soft voice. "I'm counting heads when I get home." Evan was silent for a moment, then he said, "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. You're one of the few people who's been decent to me."

  Alicia noticed that Evan's glasses were misting up and felt uncomfortable with the emotional turn the conversation was taking. Her eyes wandered to the covered object at his feet. "What is that thing, anyway?" she asked with a self-conscious laugh.

  "Just something I did for extra credit, since I failed the last biology test," Evan said, running long, slender fingers through his hair. Alicia noticed that Evan had chewed his fingernails down to the nubs.

  "May I see it?" Alicia asked delicately.

  Evan hesitated. "Well, I was saving it for biology class, but I guess it would be okay if you saw it first."

  Alicia smiled in acknowledgment of the privilege he was about to grant her. She realized that during the very brief course of their conversation thus far, they had already developed a closeness that she and Scott would never achieve. Evan's sensitivity appealed to her, and she felt his total acceptance of her, something she had never felt before with another human being.

  Evan hesitated only slightly, then with proud confidence carefully pulled away the cloth to reveal a clay model of a young woman. The model was anatomically correct, with a cutaway view displaying her internal organs: the heart, lungs, stomach, pancreas, liver, gall bladder, intestines, appendix, and ovaries.

  Alicia gasped. The model was exquisitely crafted. A masterpiece. She marveled at the time, care, and talent it must have taken to create such finely detailed replica of the human body out of a cold lump of clay.

  It was so lifelike.

  It even had hair.

  Windswept, auburn hair.

  Just like her own.

  Chapter 9

  "So what do you think?" Evan asked, staring proudly at his creation.

  "I'm… speechless," Alicia answered honestly.

  Evan seemed pleased with her reaction. "Thank you."

  "Evan… is that me?" Alicia had to ask.

  Evan seemed genuinely surprised. "No! Of course not! It's — it's any girl!" He shrugged. "Oh — the hair. I just took a few snips from one of my tabbies. A nice touch, don't you think?"

  Alicia smiled wanly.

  Evan stifled a yawn. "Sorry. I was up all night finishing it. After I got back from the hospital." He sneezed. "When I wasn't walking in the rain, thinking… thinking about what I'd do without my uncle. He's all I have."

  Alicia nodded sympathetically. It must have been hard for Evan, being an orphan.

  Then Evan seemed to withdraw into himself.

  Alicia glanced up at the wall clock — she was surprised at how quickly the half hour had flown by. She looked back at Evan, who was again gazing fondly at his clay girl.

  She reached around Evan's shoulders and gave him a hug of encouragement. His shoulders felt bony beneath the threadbare, oversized Oxford shirt he wore. The shirt was probably a hand-me-down from his uncle, she guessed.

  Alicia rose to leave. "It really is beautiful, Evan," she said, nodding toward the figure.

  / only wish it didn't look so much like me.

  Evan made it to biology class, after all.

  On one hand, Alicia was glad they hadn't suspended him. But on the other, she knew that the football players would be looking for him after school. They'd surely want revenge for the dead cat in Scott's trunk.

  Evan told her he wasn't involved, and Alicia believed him. Maybe she should call Dr. Hawke to come pick Evan up. But then she remembered the accident from that morning. She thought of a better idea.

  She nudged Scott, who sat in the seat in front of her. "Can I use your car after school?" she whispered.

  "For what?" Scott whispered back.

  "I want to give a sick friend a ride home. I'll be back before football practice is over."

  "Yeah, okay," Scott said.

  Alicia nudged him again. He glanced back. "Your keys," she said.

  He patted his pockets and came up empty. "I don't have them on me. They must be in my gym bag in my locker. Meet me at practice and I'll give them to you."

  She nodded. That was one problem solved. But there was something else making her nervous. The clay girl. She turned to look at Evan who was sitting a few rows behind her. The clay girl, covered, was next to him on the floor.

  It was an impeccable piece of work, which would mean absolutely nothing to Boomer and his friends. Or to the rest of the class, for that matter.

  They would giggle and make fun of it, and of Evan.

  And then they would notice that it looked like her, and the real fun would begin…

  Alicia hoped Mr. Bozwell wouldn't get to it today. Then maybe she could talk Evan out of showing it. She'd try to persuade him that it was too wonderful to show to this class, to leave unattended in the display case.

  She looked over at Mr. Bozwell. He was sitting up front on the edge of Ellen's desk, droning on about something. Ellen made a face behind Bozwell and several students grinned.

  From behind her, Alicia heard soft snoring.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Evan had nodded off. His arm hung down beside him, his fingers gently touching the head of the covered clay girl.

  Poor guy, Alicia thought, up all night, worrying about his uncle.

  Evan snored a little louder.

  Then he made a loud snorting sound.

  Alicia glanced nervously over her shoulder. If only she could reach back and poke Evan. She noticed that Boomer, sitting across the aisle, was watching Evan the way a praying mantis stalks a wounded fly.

  Boomer looked at Bozwell, and back to Evan. Then he reached across the aisle and yanked the cloth off Evan's clay girl.

  Evan didn't stir from his sleep.

  Boomer looked at the clay girl with a shocked expression. Then he put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. He turned toward Alicia and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  Alicia looked away, embarrassed, and stared at the blackboard.

  Johnny Murphy snickered. She glanced over her shoulder again. Boomer had scribbled something on a piece of paper and leaned it against the base of the clay girl.

  Alicia took a closer look.

  If said Alicia.

  More snickers and giggles started to fill the room. Alicia tried to wish Evan awake, but he continued to sleep soundly.

  Alicia swiveled face front again, feeling her face turn red-hot. She heard another laugh behind her. She snuck a glance over her shoulder and grimaced. Boomer had stuck a sharp pencil in the clay girl's head. She turned back in anger and saw that Scott was now looking at the clay girl with a big smirk on his face.

  "Feel any pain in your head, Ali?" Scott whispered.

  Alicia kicked the back of Scott's chair hard.

  Someone behind her laughed really loudly.

  Now heads were turning.

  Mr. Bozwell paused mid-sentence when he finally realized he didn't have everyone's
attention. He frowned and pushed himself off Ellen's desk, then walked sternly to the front of Evan's row.

  Evan's head rested on the desk now, his forehead on a piece of notepaper.

  Alicia half-listened to the scattered giggles from the class. She desperately tried to think of some way to help Evan — and herself — get out of this embarrassing mess.

  "Mr. Walker!" Mr. Bozwell barked.

  Evan snored loudly.

  The class giggled some more.

  "Mr. Walker!" Mr. Bozwell barked louder.

  Evan snuffled and some drool escaped his lips.

  Johnny Murphy jabbed him with the point of his pencil.

  Evan sat bolt upright, the piece of paper stuck to his forehead. His eyes flashed open as the piece of paper fell from his forehead to the floor. Alicia heard him gasp when he saw his clay girl with the pencil jammed in her head. Evan yanked the pencil out and hurled it across the room.

  It struck Mr. Bozwell right in the face, then clattered to the floor.

  A hush swept over the classroom.

  "Hey Weird Evan," someone said. "Where'd you find a girl that small to embalm?"

  The class burst out laughing.

  "It's a tiny Alicia," someone else said.

  Alicia cringed as laughter filled the room. She watched as Evan grabbed the piece of paper with «Alicia» written on it and angrily crumpled it up. Then he covered the clay girl again.

  Boomer picked something up off the floor. It was the piece of paper that had been stuck to Evan's forehead. "Hey, check this out. It's a love letter from Evan." A wide grin creased his broad face. "To Alicia!"

  Evan shot out of his chair to grab the letter.

  Then suddenly collapsed, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

  Chapter 10

  Silence gripped the classroom.

  Evan was out cold.

  Then some kids giggled again.

  Alicia felt a hot pain yank at her intestines. She wanted to yell at everyone, to scream at them, to help Evan off the floor.

  But she just sat there.

  Sat there staring at the floor, out the window, at the second hand swirling around the wall clock. Wishing she were somewhere else — anywhere else.

 

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