Somewhere in the Middle

by Linda Palmer

“Shut up.”

  I sputtered a laugh that I quickly suppressed, but the harm had been done. A fast look back revealed that Coach had his eye on us. Luckily a warning glare was all I got. Opening a book, I pretended to read my American government chapter. Seconds later, I felt Roone’s heavy gaze and risked a glance at him. We looked each other in the eye for maybe ten seconds before he got out a notebook and began scribbling on one of the pages in it.

  He tore out the page, neatly folded it, and passed it over: We need to talk. After school?

  I wrote yes and handed it right back.

  The last bell finally rang. We headed to our lockers together. When we got to the steps, Roone touched my elbow as if guiding me down them, a move that surprised me so much I didn’t see Brady Hamilton until he stepped into my path. I braked, which meant Roone rear ended me. My gaze swept Brady, who stood about five-eleven and wore a heather green Earth Day tee that made me smile.

  “Hi, Everly.”

  “Hi.”

  With his narrowed gaze on Roone, who hadn’t moved around us, Brady blurted, “Will you go to the dance with me Saturday night?”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Of the guys who’d asked, Brady was least objectionable, having been spotted by me at a Go Green rally back in the summer. For that reason, I went with a lie instead of a flat-out refusal. “Thanks so much for asking, but I’m already going with someone else.”

  He visibly deflated. “Okay.”

  I actually felt kind of bad until he turned the corner at the end of my locker row and I heard derisive laughter that probably meant he’d made a bet or something. Yeah, I assumed the worst, but with good reason: past experience. Roone left me then to go to his own locker. We met at the edge of the area moments later and silently walked together to the parking lot, which meant another set of stairs and another subtle assist. Had he heard what a klutz I was?

  “Are you really going to the dance with someone else?” he asked right before we got to our cars.

  “Nosy much?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “So you lied?”

  “I hated to hurt his feelings.” Was he judging me? “What did you tell all the girls who asked you to the dance today?”

  Roone’s mouth fell open. “How could you possibly know about that?”

  I laughed at him instead of answering.

  He flushed and looked away, clearly lost in thought. “Okay, I lied, too. And that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “Lying?”

  “Yes. Since the time is not right for either of us to date, maybe we should help each other out and pretend that we’re together so no one will bother us.”

  Wow. Hadn’t see that coming. “No one will fall for that if we don’t hang out together, Roone.”

  He shrugged. “So we will, safe in the knowledge that it’s all for show.”

  I thought for a second. Did I really want to do that? With my head tipped back so I could study his earnest expression, it was hard to consider ramifications, much less make a smart decision. “I don’t know.”

  “Just think about it, okay?” He closed his eyes for a second as if he might be in pain or something.

  “You okay?”

  Roone looked at me. “Headache straight from Ragnarök.”

  “Which?”

  He sputtered a decidedly awkward laugh. “Ragnarök. It’s a series of events in Norse mythology. The apocalypse of the gods…?” Seeing my blank expression, he shrugged. “I have Nordic roots. Naturally I’m interested in that sort of thing.”

  On a hunch I asked, “Do you speak Norwegian?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you say first?”

  “Første, why?”

  “Just curious. It’s no wonder you suck at physics, you know. It’s the old right brain-left brain conundrum. You’re all about intuition and creativity, while I’m all about logic and analysis. Do you want a Tylenol? I have some.”

  “Tylenol…?” He clearly hadn’t shifted gears as quickly as I. “Oh. The headache. No, I don’t do drugs.”

  “I don’t either. And Tylenol is not drugs. Well, strictly speaking it is, I guess, but I was only going to give you two. What do you take when you’re sick?”

  “I don’t get sick. Now you can call me later or even text me once you make up your mind about the boyfriend-girlfriend thing.” He pulled his cell phone from its belt dock while I dug mine from my bag. After the number exchange, we parted with self-conscious goodbyes.

  The moment I got home I called Dayna and repeated Roone’s offer word for word. “Too dishonest?”

  “Not if it keeps the male students of McAlister off your back. I mean, you’re not really hurting anyone.”

  “I’d hate to lie to Dad.”

  “So don’t. I guarantee if you tell him Roone is just a friend, he will assume the opposite, which will get him off your back, too.”

  “You think?”

  “I know. Go for it. What have you got to lose?”

  Though I couldn’t think of a thing, I still called Sid for a second opinion moments after.

  “A friendship of convenience? Sounds like the plot of a romance novel, and you know how I feel about those.” Sid had shelves of books in his room, most of them about relationships. Boy-girl, girl-girl, boy-boy. He wasn’t picky as long as there was a happy ending, something he undoubtedly craved for himself. Something I hoped he found one day. “What’s more exciting than two people pretending to be in love and then actually falling for each other.”

  “That really isn’t the plan, okay?”

  “Maybe not, but there’s always a chance it could happen. And since I know Roone interests you, I’ll be standing in the wings with my fingers crossed. If anyone deserves a break in the romance department, it’s you.”

  “And you. So you think I should do it?”

  “Of course. In my opinion, the worst that could happen is that you two won’t hook up. The best is that you will. Either way, you’ll land on your feet just like you always do.”

  Sid’s words made me feel a lot better though I didn’t come to a solid decision until the following evening after a day of puppy-dog stares from Roone.

  Before I could back out, I texted him: Ill b ur faux G/F.

  G/F?

  So much for text speak. Girlfriend. When do we start?

  Tomorrow?

  If we do, we’ll have to go to the dance Saturday night.

  If we don’t, I’ll shoot myself.

  Laughing, I had to wonder if he’d been getting calls from girls. Though I doubted he’d deliberately spread his cell number around, I knew it only took one blabbermouth to get it circulated. Tomorrow then.

  The moment I ended the conversation, I called my dad, who was probably in his patrol car. “Still up for buying me a party dress?”

  “You’ve got a date!”

  “Your surprise is insulting, and I’m actually going with a friend.”

  “A male friend?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do I know him? What’s his name?”

  “No and Roone Thorsen. He’s new in town. I’m going to look for a dress now. Happy?”

  “Very damn. The spare credit card is in my top dresser drawer. I’ll pick up McDonald’s for dinner, so take your time and get something shiny with shoes to match.”

  What a dweeb, right? I was laughing when I hung up the phone to call Dayna to ask if she’d go to the bridal shop downtown. She vetoed that and suggested a Huntsville mall since the stores in it stayed open late and a quick which-dress decision based on two options was apparently not in her plans.

  I drove as usual. Dayna loved riding in my car as much as I loved driving it. We always got a lot of looks, mostly from salivating guys, something I credited to my vehicle and not our breathtaking beauty. By the time we got to our third dress shop, I was ready to pull my hair out. Dayna’s idea of a pretty dress did not match mine. In fact, it wasn’t even
close. I wanted red. She said that would clash with my coloring. I preferred a modest style. She was all for strapless and too short. Though I knew she had better taste than I did when it came to clothing, I also knew she was desperate for me to make a social splash, something I resisted.

  Finally she brought me a sparkly blue number that had actually caught my eye, too. I made yet another trip to the dressing room and slipped into it. My reflection in the mirror was shocking. Not only did the dress fit me perfectly, it actually made me look taller and slimmer. Better yet, it had a strap, which meant I wouldn’t be tugging up the bodice all night.

  “I can do this one,” I murmured, imagining myself walking around a dance floor.

  Dayna stuck her head inside the curtain. “What was that?”

  “I like it.”

  “Holy crapoly! She likes it. Don’t go anywhere. I’m getting shoes.” We wore the same size.

  I turned this way and that trying to see my butt in the mirror. I decided it didn’t look too bad.

  “Try these.” Dayna shoved a pair of strappy heels at me. Though in a shade that complimented the dress, they were platform and looked like something a stripper might wear, plus they were way too high for comfort. But I tried them on anyway and actually loved the extra inches of height.

  I stuck one hand out of the dressing room and gave Dayna a thumbs up. She tore aside the curtain. “You look amazing.”

  “Really?” I slowly pirouetted, my eyes on the mirror. “Are we done now?”

  “Yes. Your dad’s gonna flip. Roone, too, by the way.”

  “Not my goal,” I said checking out my cleavage. More showed than normal, but I wasn’t indecent or anything.

  Before I fell asleep I wondered what Roone would think of the dress. I also tried to imagine what would happen at school once our classmates figured out we were together. I honestly couldn’t do it and for a brief moment had a mini panic attack. Then common sense prevailed. So what if I was a little rusty on relationships and a bad actress to boot? I knew how to treat a friend, didn’t I? That’s all that really mattered because that’s all we were.

  Roone was sitting in his car when I pulled into the school parking lot on Thursday. He got out of it as I killed the engine and watched as I gathered up what I’d need for the day. I’ll admit my heart raced when we headed up the sidewalk together, me with my hobo bag swinging from my shoulder. How would McAlister High react to our imaginary hook up?

  When Roone touched my elbow to help me up the front steps—a subtle move that nonetheless screamed “we’re together”—I knew exactly how. Mouths dropped. Eyes flew open wide. I think one poor wannabe, a girl, of course, just might’ve burst into tears of disappointment. My face burned, and I was actually short of breath by the time we got to the locker commons. Roone started toward his, caught himself, and draped an arm across my shoulders to guide me to mine. That additional show of possession did in a couple of guys standing nearby.

  My hands shook so badly I couldn’t work the combination lock. Luckily Roone wasn’t as rattled. And when he grasped the thing with a steady right hand, I whispered the numbers he needed to work it. He opened the locker door. I quickly swapped out books, all the while trying to calm myself. Was I being ridiculous to get so worked up? Yes. Could I help it? No. That put me on a level with every other silly-ass girl on campus, and I hated myself for it.

  “Breathe.” Roone kept his voice low.

  With the warmth of his hushed words still on my hair, I self-consciously nodded. “Trying.”

  We went to his locker next, walking past a couple of whispering classmates en route. “Oh my God. He’s going out with her?”

  I bristled at the unmistakable tone of disbelief and immediately regained some of my nerve.

  He grinned. “Better.”

  While he did his own book swap, I managed casual glances to my left and right. I’d never been the center of attention before and admitted that being there was uncomfortable and ironically opposite to the somewhere in the middle I was used to. The slam of Roone’s locker door made me jump, further embarrassment. I heard malicious giggles as I slipped into the straps of my stuffed backpack. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Right.” Roone started one way. I started another. Wincing he turned on his heel and walked just a little behind me, no doubt following my lead as I headed for my first period class. He tried to take my backpack.

  I shook my head. “I’ve got it.”

  “I’m thinking we should’ve talked before we jumped into this. I’ll need to know your class schedule if I’m going to walk you to them.”

  “Will you have time for that?”

  “I see other guys doing it.”

  I didn’t argue. “Calculus, Astronomy, Graphic Arts, English, Chemistry, American Government, Study Hall.”

  “Okay. German III, PE, Physics, English, Calculus, US History, Study Hall.”

  I tried to put them to memory. “You speak German, too?”

  “Ja.”

  “I’m totally impressed. I only know a little Spanish. Why are you just now taking US History?” I’d had that in ninth grade.

  “I hadn’t had it yet. It’s really very interesting.” We got to the door just as the warning bell rang, which meant Roone needed to get a move on. “What do we do now?”

  “Nothing. Goodbye. Enjoy German. See you in fifty-five.” Our principal gave us a short five minutes between classes, the reason I’d put all my morning books into my backpack. No stinkin’ locker time.

  “Er, right.” He left me.

  Whew. My knees were knocking by the time I plopped down at my desk. Who knew having a boyfriend could be so stressful?

  But having just any boyfriend wouldn’t have been. It was this particular boyfriend that made the whole situation so surreal, which really surprised me. Were the negative reactions of my female classmates due to the big-muscle reveal the day before? Or had they all secretly longed for him from the moment he enrolled in our school? I could easily believe the latter. I’d felt his magnetism from the get-go, myself.

  “Miss Sayers!”

  My gaze locked with that of my teacher, who was calling the roll. Her impatience made me wonder if she’d called my name more than once. “Here.”

  She moved on. Hearing some nasty laughs, I sank a little lower in my chair. If I didn’t get my head in the game, I was going draw even more attention to myself, the last thing I wanted.

  Chapter Four

  The moment the bell rang, I slipped out of my chair and into the hall. A glance to my right revealed that Roone was making his way toward me, his head above almost everyone else’s due to his height. I got to him through the crush of students swarming the halls. When a passerby jostled me unnecessarily, I looked up to see Crystal Butler staring me down before she disappeared into the crowd.

  “One of your rejects?” I asked Roone, who’d just gotten to me.

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. I have Astronomy next and you have to go all the way to the gym. You don’t have time to walk me.”

  “You don’t need a book from your locker?”

  “Already have it.”

  “How many are in this thing?” Roone, who was a half step behind me, grabbed one of the straps of my backpack and tugged it from my shoulders. He tested the weight. “Damn, Everly.” He slung the strap over his shoulder.

  “I told you—”

  “I remember. But what kind of guy lets his girl carry around something that heavy?”

  Now he was a half step ahead. I picked up my pace. “A modern one?”

  “Not where I come from.”

  “And where, exactly, is that?”

  “Nowhere near.”

  Again. Why all the mystery? We got to the steps. Roone jumped over both. Turning, he held out a hand to me. Not sure what to do, I took it and descended, feeling ridiculously like a Disney princess. Manners like his made him stick out at McAlister. And while I was flattered, I didn’t want any of the guys to make fun
of him. Or maybe my klutz theory was the right one. I had on occasion made a fool of myself, and his possibly knowing that troubled and embarrassed me.

  After we’d walked a few steps, I threw out my arm to stop further progress. “We split here. I’ll meet you after class at the door to the Science and Math building since I’ll already be there.” I slid my backpack off his arm.

  “Right.” Roone turned to leave me, but immediately slowed down. Peeking around him to see what had his attention, I saw Laurie Peterson and Jay Rice passionately kissing near the steps we’d just left behind. My un-boyfriend gave me a speculative glance and then wordlessly moved on a second later. I did the same.

  Astronomy was one of those classes that always flew by, especially compared to the glacial pace of, say, American government. Everything about the cosmos intrigued me as much as it did my big brother, which had to mean we’d both inherited some recessive gene neither of our parents had. I loved the history, the observations, and the theories—especially the theories. There were so many unanswered questions. How were Earth and the planets formed? Was there other intelligent life out there? Were wormholes real? And what about the fate of our universe, which by most accounts was steadily expanding? Today it was especially interesting because of Mr. Thorsen’s paper, and though tempted to ask questions related to his theories, I didn’t. He’d told me it was secret, and I respected that.

  When the bell ended class, I stuffed my book into my backpack and walked out the door, down the hall, and to the entrance that was on the gym side of the building to wait for Roone. As before, I spotted him easily, and not just because of the oversized clothing he wore. With the sunlight gleaming in hair still damp from his shower, he looked like a mythical god, and I felt a thrill I had no right to feel. It wasn’t as if he were really mine, after all. Everything was just pretend.

  He walked right up to me. “Hey.”

  “Hey. How was PE?”

  “Played dodge ball.”

  I grimaced. “I hate dodge ball. It’s not a sport with rules, which is what physical education should be about. It’s a legalized venue for picking on the weak and unpopular. And since I tend to root for the underdog, that doesn’t work for me.”