Somewhere in the Middle

by Linda Palmer

  “Don’t you have a Christmas dance next Saturday?” Dad asked me.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So who’s taking you?”

  “I’m sitting this one out.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “You know I hate formals.” Not to mention girly-girl things like corsages, glam dresses, and God forbid, heels.

  “But it’s your senior year. Aren’t you worried that you’ll look back one day and regret not taking advantage of everything McAlister High had to offer?”

  “Not so much,” I said.

  “What if I buy the dress? Would you then?”

  “The most expensive gown in town would not hide the fact that I’m a klutz. Surely you haven’t forgotten my dance recital.” Forced by Mom to take tap lessons for a year when I was four, I’d been totally out of sync with the music and my fellow dancers. Yeah, so much for magically curing my awkwardness.

  Dad wasn’t buying it. “I’ve seen you dance with Eli. There’s nothing wrong with your moves. Now who’s asked you to go? And don’t tell me ‘no one.’ I dang well know better.”

  In truth, three guys had. I’d refused each for the same reason. At McAlister High, a single date was automatically construed as “going out” which equated to “going steady.” That meant I’d actually have to break up with my dance partner if I wasn’t interested in a second date. “I’ve explained all this before.”

  “And I still don’t get it. You need to find a boyfriend, get out of this house, and enjoy what’s left of your high school years.”

  “I will get out,” I told him. “Tomorrow’s library day.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Can I get that book on cars?” Eli asked, an interruption I welcomed.

  “If it’s back on the shelf.” One of his friends had shown him a kid’s encyclopedia of automobiles through the ages. We’d been trying to check it out ever since, but couldn’t seem to catch it in the library.

  “Just wait ‘til you see it, Dad.” Eli gnawed on his drumstick. Diverted from my nonexistent love life, our father grinned at him.

  I watched for a minute, my heart swelling with affection for my little bro. The only unplanned child in the family, he’d been a late-marriage shock to my parents. But he’d had us all wrapped around his little finger since that first newborn smile, and I adored him just as everyone did. That’s why I played Candy Land with Eli after dinner and then reread all seven of the books we’d be returning the next day. After that, I tucked him in, making sure he had his special blanket and his stuffed animal, Justin Beaver.

  I took more than one mental snapshot before I left him. He was growing up before my eyes. I wanted to preserve the memories.

  Click!

  Eli and I got to the library around ten on Saturday. Dayna, Julio, and Chico were already there. All three boys immediately ran over to the storyteller’s corner and sat cross-legged on the floor. Dayna and I went to sit at a table nearby. The moment the woman with the book began to read the tale of Hercules, my friend and I relaxed. The boys loved superhero stories. And though Hercules wasn’t one in the comic book sense, he’d definitely do.

  “Cute top,” I said, eyeing her glittered tee.

  “I’ll loan it to you anytime.” Fashionable Dayna with her big brown eyes, long brunette hair, and perfect sense of style was dying to dress me.

  But just like my Dad, I was a jeans and tees kind of person. Today my shirt said BAMA on it, a reference to the University of Alabama. Cory had bought it for me on sale at the college bookstore. “Was it made in the USA? I don’t wear clothes made by children in sweat shops.”

  “Oh God. Here we go.”

  “I’ll spare you the lecture. You and Gav going to the dance?”

  “Of course. Want to come with us? I’m sure I could find you a date.” She sided with my dad when it came to my extracurricular activities, specifically the lack thereof.

  Not that I didn’t have any. I did. Just not the ones most teenage girls had. I favored rallies for things that mattered: breast cancer awareness, neighborhood recycling, gay and lesbian rights. The list went on and on. “No thanks.”

  Dayna tossed her ponytail before leaning closer to look into my eyes. “It would be so much fun to double.”

  “Someday, I promise.”

  “You keep saying that, but our final year together is half gone already!”

  “Is it my fault the guys at McAlister High don’t appreciate me?”

  Dayna’s jaw dropped.

  I held up a hand to stop the tirade she was about to unleash. “Let me rephrase that—”

  “You’d damn well better.”

  “Can I help it if none of the guys at school are my type?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You have a type and I’m just now finding out?”

  “Yes. My kind of guy is smart, polite, kind—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Those characteristics are way too intangible. Give me something I can work with.”

  Work with? A sudden vision of Dana surfing the internet for dates made me cringe. “What do you mean?”

  “What kind of hair?”

  Ah, she was referring to physical characteristics. For a second, I indulged her. “Don’t want a guy with hair longer than mine, but I’m not into buzzes, either.”

  Dayna laughed and pretended to jot something on an imaginary notepad. “Blond, brunette, or redhead?”

  “Sun streaked works for me. I’m all about the great outdoors.”

  “Ah. What color eyes?”

  “The kind that change hue with every shirt.”

  “Tall, medium, or short?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Slender, well-proportioned, or stocky?”

  “That doesn’t matter, either.”

  “So a guy of any size with highlighted hair and chameleon eyes would work?”

  “If he was environmentally green and socially conscious…maybe.” A safe answer. While lots of guys we knew met the physical criteria, none measured up otherwise.

  “You just described Roone Thorsen.”

  “I know you didn’t say that! Besides, you were doing all the talking.”

  No doubt sensing my frustration, Dayna wisely changed the topic to her job in the cosmetics department of JC Penney, doing customer makeovers. Since she frequently practiced on me, I’d come to love make-up and even wore it, which was admittedly at odds with my tomboy ways and the low value I placed on physical attributes. But I definitely wasn’t obsessed and often left home without wearing any, something a lot of girls I knew never did.

  Dayna had once said that’s why guys found me so “irresistible”—her word, not mine. I was “an enigma,” also her wording. I, on the other hand, believed any male attention I unwittingly attracted resulted from my blatant disinterest in dating high school boys. After a painful hit-and-miss romance my junior year, I’d decided to hold off on love until I got to college. I figured the guys there would be mature enough to know that one date didn’t mean lifetime commitment. As a result, my male classmates had apparently labeled me as hard-to-get, and what high school boy could resist that?

  The sound of clapping made us glance toward the reader’s circle. They were finished already? With mutual grimaces, Dayna and I stood and waited. Now came the hard part—selecting books to take home.

  Eli always took forever. Today was no exception. While he checked out every book on every shelf in the kiddie-lit area I pretty much stood in one spot and zoned, my mind on Roone, thanks to Dayna. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t immediately register the sound of crying. When I did, I came to life and shot around the closest stack only to find Eli there and in tears. Some guy wearing baggy jeans and a faded hoodie was squatting next to him.

  I instantly slipped into protector mode. “Eli?”

  They both turned. The guy stood.

  “Roone!” Flustered on a couple of levels, I rushed forward. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

  “T-t-they d-don�
��t h-have it.” Huge tears rolled down Eli’s cheeks.

  I was clueless. “Have what?”

  “The car book.”

  “Oh.” Duh. Some big sister I made. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure? I’ll help you look.”

  By then Roone looked a little flustered, himself. “He belongs to you?”

  “Yeah.” I kissed the top of Eli’s precious head before I turned to the shelf where the librarian had once told us it would be. No book. “You know what? I think we should go to Barnes and Noble and buy it. That way you can keep it forever.”

  Eli’s smile lit up the room. I melted into a puddle of goo and took my usual mental snapshot. Roone’s arm just might’ve gotten in the shot.

  Click!

  “What book is he looking for?” asked Roone.

  I explained.

  He nodded at Eli. “I’m really liking cars, too. Your sister’s got a cool ride.”

  I’m really liking cars? His wording threw me off, so I remembered my manners a little late. “Thanks. Eli, this is my friend from school, Roone Thorsen. Roone, this is Eli, my brother.”

  Roone stuck out his right hand. Eli grinned and shook it like a little man, another aww moment.

  Click!

  Roone’s face made it into the shot this time.

  “Did you come to hear the Hercules story, too?” I asked, highly aware of Eli’s curious gaze, which ping-ponged between Roone and me.

  Roone grinned. “Would’ve if I’d known there was going to be one. I’m actually here with my dad.” He pointed to a man hunched over the keyboard of one of the public computers. I saw that Mr. Thorsen was as large as Roone, with hair shorter but the same color.

  Shorter… My gaze riveted to Roone. “You got a haircut,” I blurted before I could stop myself. No wonder I hadn’t recognized him from the back.

  He self-consciously touched his hair, which was still a bit shaggy on top but definitely shorter on the back and sides. “Yeah. I realized that most of the guys at school go for a shorter…um…style.” Roone cleared his throat and glanced away.

  Was he telling me he wanted to look like every other male I knew? I wanted to laugh. That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

  “It’s nice,” I told him. I had to say something. I mean, I’d brought it up.

  “Thanks.”

  Eli tugged on the bottom of Roone’s hoodie. “Will you be Everly’s boyfriend?”

  I gasped. “Eli!” Where the hell had that come from?

  “Daddy said you should get one.”

  I’d never been so embarrassed. “Geez, bro. He was kidding.”

  “No he wasn’t.”

  I managed a weak laugh as I caught Roone’s eye. “Sorry about that. My dad tries to micromanage my love life.” Desperate to get away, I put my hand on Eli’s shoulder and propelled him to the left, only to stop when I got a better look at Roone’s father. “Is he hunting and pecking?”

  “Huh?”

  I saw his confusion. “Looks like your dad is using two fingers to type. That’s called ‘hunting and pecking.’” Where was this guy from, outer space?

  “Oh. Yeah. He’s pretty slow.”

  I could tell Roone was filing away the idiom for future use. “Why don’t you help him?”

  “I don’t know how to, either.”

  Chapter Two

  My chin hit my chest. Alabama schools offered keyboarding in fourth grade. “Then you should definitely take it next semester. Trust me when I say it’s a skill you’ll use forever.”

  Roone nodded as if I’d given him life and death advice.

  Noting that his dad was working from handwritten pages, I impulsively walked over to him. “Hi.”

  He glanced up. Eyes as hazel as Roone’s narrowed slightly when he spotted his son just behind me.

  “I’m Everly Sayers, a friend of Roone.”

  “Bo Thorsen.” Mr. Thorsen and Roone exchanged a glance I couldn’t figure out, as in the dad didn’t look happy, which made his grown son squirm a little.

  Baffled, I quickly moved things along. “Sorry to interrupt you, but I noticed that you’re struggling a little with the keyboard. Do you want me to type that for you?”

  That got his attention. “You know how?”

  “Of course. Er, may I look?” I reached for his handwritten notes, not actually picking up the papers until he nodded permission. Then I quickly counted and glanced over them, noting that the ones toward the back contained a lot of physics formulas he’d never be able to type on the library’s generic keyboard. “Physics. And way over my head.” I laughed at the irony. “Too bad Roone didn’t get your science gene.”

  Thorsen frowned slightly. His gaze nailed his son again. Said son cleared his throat and rubbed out a skid mark on the linoleum floor with the toe of his Nike.

  “Luckily, I can help you both.” Baffled by their dynamic, I glanced from Roone to his father. “So what do you think? I’m quick and accurate, I work really cheap, and I have a special keyboard with all the symbols you’ll need on it.”

  “How cheap?”

  “Is free cheap enough?”

  “But I insist on paying you.”

  Hating that he was turning a friendly gesture into a job, I stalled. “Why don’t we work that out later?”

  Thorsen thought for a second and then gave me a smile. “All right. Now this is the only copy—”

  “Then we should definitely make another. The library copier is over there. It’s ten cents a page.”

  Thorsen looked where I pointed, but didn’t seem to see the Xerox machine that was standing in plain sight. So I walked over to it, his pages in my hand. Naturally he and Roone followed me. Eli beat them there.

  “Have you ever used this kind of copier before?” I asked.

  Thorsen shook his head. “No. We, um, had another one where I worked last.”

  “I know all about it,” said Eli, stepping up. “The pages go here, and you have to put them so you can’t see the writing. Can I get the key?” He jumped from one foot to the other in his eagerness to get the key used to make multiple copies, with pay-up when finished.

  I waited until he returned with it before I laid the pages face down in the feeder, punched in the required settings, and hit the GO button. The machine began spitting out copies. Roone and his dad avidly watched.

  “You pay that librarian.” I nodded toward the librarian who’d been monitoring us from afar. “Do you have a deadline for these?” I scooped the originals out of the tray and handed them to him. Then I got the copies for myself.

  “You should take these,” Thorsen said, swapping his originals for my copies. “They’re clearer. I’m trying to get on at NASA in Huntsville, but they have hundreds of applicants every day. Roone read on the internet that they’re always interested in new theories. Since I have one, I’m going to present it in the form of a white paper that just might land me a job.”

  “That is so cool!” I said, truly meaning it. I loved all things cosmic. Just then, Dayna walked up with her boisterous brothers right behind, their chosen books in hand. I stole a second to wish I had their perpetual tans instead of my ivory skin and generous sprinkling of freckles.

  “Hi, Roone.” Dayna’s bright-eyed gaze flicked from him to me just as Eli’s had.

  “Hi.”

  I could tell she was jumping to conclusions in spite of my earlier disclaimers and quickly introduced them all. “This is Roone’s dad. He’s here to use the computer.” As is usually the case when strangers first meet, things got quiet quick and felt a little strained. I tried to keep conversation flowing. “I’m going to type a paper for him.” When no one said anything, I turned to Eli and said, “Did you get all the books you wanted besides the car one?”

  He nodded.

  “Then we should check them out and go.”

  “Let me give you my phone number.” Thorsen took a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled on the page I handed over. “Call me with any questions. This is pretty technical stuff, and
confidential, too.”

  “Got it. See you next week, Roone?”

  “Sure.”

  Taking Eli’s hand, I headed to the desk. Dayna and her brothers followed us. A glance over my shoulder revealed that she was smirking. I rolled my eyes, guessing I’d be in for another inquisition once we got outside.

  And boy was I.

  “What a coincidence that the guy who walked you to your car on Friday just happens to be at the library on Saturday.”

  “Isn’t it?” I hurried Eli down the steps and toward the parking lot.

  “Did you notice how he never took his eyes off you?”

  “I did not.”

  “I think you’re right about the size thing. I’m guessing Roone’s not nearly as big as his clothes. So the question becomes why is he wearing them?”

  “No idea.”

  “His dad seemed nice enough. Do you think he likes you?”

  “I just volunteered to type his thirty-page white paper. Of course he likes me.”

  “I meant as a girl his son might be interested in.”

  I braked and whirled on her. “Why are you so hung up on me and Roone?”

  “Because no matter what you say, the two of you have clicked.”

  “So? People click every day.”

  “Oh yeah? Name one other guy at McAlister that you’ve clicked with.”

  I couldn’t help but get defensive. I’d never known Dayna to be so persistent. “Sid Wharton.”

  “He’s gay.”

  “So?”

  “So he doesn’t count. I’m talking about guys who are dateable.” She waited. “You can’t do it, can you?”

  I huffed my exasperation with Dayna’s line of questioning and turned my back on her. “Goodbye, guys. Eli and I are headed to Barnes and Noble now.”

  She caught my shoulder. “Don’t leave mad. I’m just seeing something that I haven’t seen before, and I don’t want you to ignore it just because you think you’ll do better on a college campus. Not all high school boys are jerks, Everly.”

  “I know that.”

  “So you’ll keep an open mind about Roone?”

  “Of course. You know I try to keep an open mind about everything.”

  Dayna couldn’t deny that. “Excellent.”