Somewhere in the Middle

by Linda Palmer

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Roone for the rest of Saturday. So much of him intrigued me—his relationship with his dad, his quirky use of the English language, and, yes, his size. Was he so self-conscious about his body that he felt compelled to hide it under clothing that would’ve fit Shrek? If so, I felt bad for him and slightly motivated to prove that body shape didn’t matter if the person was healthy. And he was definitely healthy. Golden tan skin. Shiny hair. Pearly white teeth.

  Oh God. Why was I obsessing over Roone? Was Dayna right? Had I really and truly clicked with him? More important, had he clicked with me? So far, the jury was out on that one. He hadn’t treated me any differently than he’d treated her. As for Eli asking him to be my boyfriend, I’d been so embarrassed I hadn’t checked out his reaction. Shock? Dismay? Both? I definitely needed to talk to Dad about saying things my little brother might repeat.

  But I didn’t do it that day. Instead, I began typing Bo Thorsen’s paper, which read like a doctoral dissertation or something. Technical. Oddly worded, at times. Yet very interesting…what I understood of it, anyway. His subject was wormholes or, as he called them, cosmic bridges.

  According to Thorsen, there were three planes of existence in the universe very close together, but invisible to each other. The oldest was called Første. The other two were Andre and Tredje, names that had no significance to me. If any of these planes bumped each other, the result was a big bang like the one that had resulted in Earth and set its present evolutionary path. That was huge, of course, since the two planes involved would pretty much be starting over from scratch. Luckily that didn’t happen very often, as in there were usually trillions of years between these bumps.

  But if two planes merely brushed each other, what he called a kobling or “link” was briefly formed between them. That passage wasn’t much use to either world since it appeared randomly and then took mega amounts of negative matter to keep it open. Thorsen theorized that a powerful psychic could not only predict when brushes would occur, but hold the kobling open long enough to enable travel between planes. The stuff of science fiction? Yeah, but interesting. So interesting. And though most of what he’d written was admittedly way over my head, I actually knew when one of his first formulas was missing a basic physics symbol.

  So I called him. He answered first ring. We briefly chit-chatted about nothing. I somehow found the nerve to question the formula. He agreed I should throw in the missing symbol. Was he surprised I’d picked up on the problem? Definitely. I heard it in his voice. Was I glad I’d impressed him with my knowledge of physics? Yes. Why? I could only hope it wasn’t because I was trying to impress the father of a guy I kinda, sorta, maybe liked…ish.

  The rest of the weekend flew by. Cory came in, which meant the males outnumbered the females. The Sayers house immediately took on a masculine persona that tomboy me liked. Funny, smart, and totally into astronomy since the age of ten, when he attended space camp, Cory made our family complete.

  Since the weather was mild, he helped me cook out on Sunday, which gave me an opportunity to ask a question that had been scorching my brain since Saturday. But he asked me one before we ever got out the kitchen door.

  “I’m thinking about moving back home. Do you think Mom and Dad would mind?”

  “Of course not. They both miss you horribly. But why? I thought you liked apartment life.”

  “I did at first, but now it’s getting old. Roger has started smoking and since the lease is in his name, I really can’t complain about the toxic fumes. Plus he’s got a new girlfriend I can’t stand. Her honking laugh, alone, is enough to turn me off women forever, and she wears enough perfume to pollute New York City.”

  Poor Cory.

  “There are so many students driving to and from campus, I figure it’ll be a breeze to find a carpool that works. And moving back will save the ‘rents a load of cash that I’d rather they spent on something worthwhile like a new Celestron.” He glanced at the tripod mounted onto our deck, which had been there for years. The telescope we often attached to it was pretty old, and we both knew a younger model would be much more powerful.

  “You’ll be sharing a room with Eli.”

  “There is that.” He playfully elbowed me. “Unless you want to let him sleep with you.”

  “I love you, but it ain’t happening.” I eyed the tray of burgers that Cory was about to grill. “Do you think college guys are more mature than high school guys?”

  “Well, they’re older.” He began scraping the remains of a former barbecue from the cooking grid.

  “But not necessarily wiser?”

  “‘Fraid not, Everloo.” That’s what he always called me.

  “Dang.”

  My reaction made him give me his full attention. “Why?”

  “Just wondering. High school boys are ridiculous.”

  Cory grinned. “Got anyone particular in mind?”

  “JR, Bryan, Rick, Les…” I grimaced. “The list goes on and on.”

  My brother took the tray and began placing the patties on the grill. A sizzle and some heavenly smells resulted. “Dad still nagging you about getting a life?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  He chuckled. “What about Sid? You two have always been tight.”

  “He’s gay.”

  “I knew it!”

  “Came out early this year. I was so proud of him.”

  “How’d his folks take it?”

  “The same way they take everything he does. ‘Whatever you want to do, son. Now please go away. We’re sooo busy.’”

  Cory winced. “They’re going to regret that someday.”

  I could only agree. Sid was definitely going to be somebody, most likely a famous cartoonist. Every manga lover on campus was hooked on the graphic novels he wrote and illustrated. “And then it will be too late.”

  “Don’t let Dad bully you, okay? He’s stuck in the eighties. Things are different now. It’s okay to dance without a partner.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll find the right guy. Maybe not in high school. Maybe not in college. But I know there’s someone out there who’s just perfect for you.”

  “Exactly. Thanks.” I gave him a grateful hug before heading indoors to wash up the tray.

  On Monday I went to school certain that Roone and I were now friends. By noon, I was just as certain we weren’t. He’d barely said a word the whole morning even though we’d passed each other in the hall. As for the first class we shared, fourth period English, when Roone walked in, he went straight to his desk without acknowledging I was anywhere around. So when I carried my lunch bag to the table Sid Wharton had chosen for us, I was in a ridiculously lousy mood.

  “Hey, sista,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  “Ooh. Who pissed on your five-grain, real butter, all-natural sugar and cinnamon toast?” Yeah. He knew me well.

  My shoulders sagged. “Did I snap at you? Sorry. Don’t know why I’m in such a funk.” I plopped down next to Sid, who looked really good in his sculpted jeans, plain white tee, and navy blue vest. I noticed that he’d styled his dark hair a little differently and playfully patted the short spikes on top of his head. “Nice.”

  “Too much?”

  “Nope. Suits you perfectly.” As I unwrapped my sandwich, I surreptitiously scanned the room. Only when I saw Roone sitting with a couple of jocks did I realize he was the reason I did it. I sighed my disgust just as Dayna joined us with her lunch tray.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” we said in sync.

  She sat across from us and eyed my sandwich. “What are you eating?”

  “Organic PBJ.”

  “Blehhh!”

  “The food served in this cafeteria has unhealthy additives. That nugget there?” I pointed one of several on her tray. “The chicken who donated it was so high on growth steroids I’m surprised the thing hasn’t hopped out of that paper bowl and run for its life.”

  Dayna eyed the nugget in q
uestion and then popped it into her mouth. “Tastes okay to me.”

  Sid burst out laughing. Of course I joined in, though a little late.

  “What?” Dayna asked, her mouth still full.

  “Nothing.”

  She glared at me, an expression that changed the moment her boyfriend Gavin got to the table. After exchanging an affectionate shoulder bump with him, she focused on me again. “You take everything way too seriously, you know that? Clothes, food, dating. Lighten up, chica.”

  Sid, his eyes wide, kept silent, his gaze batting back and forth between us as if he expected a blow up. Gavin seemed interested, too. But I wasn’t about to argue with Dayna when she had nothing to do with my blue mood. “Sorry, Day.”

  “No problem.” We exchanged forgiving smiles before she spoke again. “So Sid…are you going to the dance?”

  “Of course.”

  “And what are you wearing?”

  “Wait until you see it.” While Sid described in detail the tux he’d rented, my mind wandered, and more than once I found myself staring at Roone. What was up with him? Had my offer to type for his dad been taken the wrong way? Did he think I was doing it to get his attention? Or, even worse, that I was chasing him? “So what do you think?” Sid’s question and elbow nudge brought me back to the table.

  “About what?” I asked.

  Dayna hooted and glanced over her shoulder to see where I’d been looking. Naturally Gavin and Sid did, too. “Give it up, Sid. She’s a million miles away…or is she simply stuck at that table over there?”

  “Which one?” Sid’s gaze nailed one after the other of the packed student tables.

  “Last on the right.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Roone Thorsen?”

  I gasped. “Why would you say that?” There were five other people sitting with Roone.

  “Because he’s the only new thing there.”

  “Roone’s not a thing. He’s a guy. A very nice guy.”

  Dayna leaned closer. “So nice that our girl is very, very confused about him.”

  “No shit?” Gavin glanced back at Roone again, his expression thoughtful.

  Sid just beamed at me. “It’s about damn time.”

  “Don’t you start,” I said.

  He zipped his lip with his pinched fingers, but his eyes still twinkled.

  “I need some air.” Throwing my lunch remains into my bag, I got up and left the caf.

  Winters in Alabama were typically mild with temperatures that ranged from the low fifties to low thirties. No matter what they were, I didn’t wear a coat to school. McAlister High lockers was too small to hold one, which meant I would’ve had to drag it to every class. Today, a chilly breeze stung my flushed cheeks when I sat on one of the benches on campus to finish my meal. But I didn’t move from there until the warning bell for fifth period chemistry rang.

  By seventh period study hall, I’d encountered Roone three more times without him so much as blinking at me. That resulted in a confrontation the moment we sat in our assigned seats.

  “What is your problem?” My voice came out a little louder than I meant it to.

  My question clearly surprised him. “Don’t have one.”

  “Then why have you ignored me all seven times we’ve passed each other in the hall, not to mention during fourth period?”

  “You’re keeping track?”

  “Of course not, I just—”

  “Sayers! Thorsen!”

  Chapter Three

  Crap. I looked beyond Roone and found Coach standing in the aisle at the end of our row, his arms crossed over his chest.

  I managed what I hoped was an innocent smile. “Yes, sir?”

  Coach didn’t buy it. “D-hall. This afternoon. Both of you.” He turned on his heel and left.

  Furious with myself, I opened a book and pretended to study. Only when Roone reached over and turned it in my lap did I realize I was reading upside down. I didn’t look at him or otherwise acknowledge the help. Though my big mouth had just gotten us into trouble, his ignoring me all day was just as much to blame. Or so I told myself.

  When the bell rang, I dragged my tired body to the gym along with every other student who’d been sent there for one reason or another. We all seated ourselves in the bleachers with plenty of space between us. Since the detention would last thirty minutes, I figured I had just enough time to finish my calculus problems. Roone, who entered the gym moments later, sat as far away from me as possible and stared at one of the basketball goals the whole time.

  At four, all of us filed out of the building and went our separate ways with relief. After a quick trip to my locker, I headed to the parking lot wondering whether or not to mention this little fiasco to Dad. If I didn’t and he found out, I’d be sorry, of course. But then I dreaded an unnecessary confession. I didn’t notice that Roone was peering under the hood of an older Honda until I got to my own ride. Was he having car problems?

  Though tempted to leave him there without finding out, I couldn’t. Instead, I moved my car next to his and got out of it without killing the engine. “Need a boost?”

  “Maybe?”

  I bit back a laugh. No guy had ever looked so clueless, but I didn’t fault him for it. My open mind wouldn’t let me. Assuming all men were car gurus was as stupid as assuming all women were good cooks. “I can jump you.” He nodded and watched closely while I opened my hood and got the cables from my trunk. In seconds I had our batteries connected. “Start your car.”

  Roone got into the Honda and did as requested. It kicked right off. When he got out he looked a little sheepish. “You must think I’m a total idiot.”

  “No. I think you’re a guy who grew up with a dad who can’t work a copy machine as opposed to me, the girl who grew up with a shade-tree mechanic.”

  “A what?”

  “A guy who works on cars every spare chance he gets using skills inherited from his father, who was a real mechanic.” I disconnected all the cables. “We all have unique skill sets. And do you really care what I think, anyway?” Yeah. I still hadn’t let it go.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Couldn’t prove it by me.” With a strained smile, I tossed the cables into my trunk, slammed it shut, and walked to the driver’s side of the Trans Am.

  Roone stepped up close just as I got there, which put my open door between us. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been rude today. It’s just…well…I can’t have a girlfriend right now.”

  The air left my lungs in a whoosh. “Whoa! Who said anything about that? For your information, I don’t want a boyfriend, either.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want a girlfriend. I said I can’t have one. And why don’t you want one?”

  “They’re too much trouble. Why can’t you have one?” I slid behind the wheel of my car, my gaze on Roone, who’d rested his forearms on the open door.

  “It’s very, very complicated.”

  Hm. “Does it involve a girlfriend in NowhereNear?”

  “Nowhere—? Ohhh. Absolutely not.”

  Hmm. I didn’t know what to think now. “Can we be friends?”

  His lips spread into a wide smile. “I’d love to have a friend in McAlister, Alabama.”

  “Then you have one.” I tugged on the door.

  He raised his arms and stepped back so I could shut it. Moments later, I left him.

  Was I starting to obsess over Roone Thorsen? It sort of felt like it.

  That night I mentally reviewed our parking lot encounter, noting details I hadn’t noticed at the time. His gorgeous eyes. His sexy smile. His incredibly wonderful smell. Realizing how fluttery he made me feel inside, I finally admitted that Dayna might be right. Not all high school boys should be avoided. Was I in love? Not yet. Could I be? Maybe.

  And I just didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  On Tuesday, charcoal gray clouds low on the eastern horizon warned of a winter storm on the move. By fourth period, bad weather had descended on McAlister High in the fo
rm of a drastic temperature drop as well as sleet and rain. On one hand I was glad. Winter wasn’t winter without colder temperatures, and with Christmas just around the corner I welcomed the change. On the other hand, I wished I’d had the smarts to lug an umbrella to school. Luckily I managed to share one every time I changed buildings, a total of three, two of them treks without covered sidewalks, which would’ve made for a cold, wet walk.

  I discovered Roone hadn’t been so lucky when I saw him in fourth period English, the other class we shared. Located in a portable building near the bus parking lot, it did have a makeshift walkway to it, but that hadn’t helped Roone. Without a coat and soaked through from other trips to other classes, he entered the portable classroom wearing his usual oversized, long-sleeved T-shirt. Only today it clung to him like shrink wrap and revealed a body shape right out of a Bowflex commercial. I did a double take as did every other girl who saw him walk into the room and sit near the window.

  “Are my eyes deceiving me or is the boy cut?” Becca Terrance, who sat just behind me, had leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

  I could practically hear her panting. “Cut. Definitely cut.”

  Click!

  “He must have an incredible workout schedule.” Her gaze stayed glue to him. “It’s a shame he enrolled too late for football. But there’s always track, isn’t there? He could definitely do the shot put and maybe even discus.”

  Having a dad and brother who worked out regularly, I was used to guys with muscles. But my female classmates clearly weren’t. Or maybe they were like me and had simply never seen muscles like these. Whichever, Roone’s wet hair and clothes were a sight to behold and earned him a lot of attention that appeared to be unwanted. As a result, he sort of closed up and became increasingly withdrawn as the period progressed. When the bell rang, he shot out of the room. I didn’t see him again until study hall, which was odd and actually a little hard to do in a school as small as ours.

  By the time we sat and opened our books, he appeared downright surly if a little dryer. Though I felt bad for him, I couldn’t resist some teasing. “Dude…wet looks really good on you.”