by Ann Herrick
I worked out some math problem, then took a short break to do some bust exercises. I figured the suggestion of a few curves beneath my clothes would help boost my image from cute to womanly. I wasn't totally against self-improvement. But honestly, Mom and Dad were getting seriously carried away! They were obviously worried about living up to their long-ago label as the "Most Adorable Couple."
Later, I went downstairs to see if I could help with supper. But Dad was on the phone with the yellow pages of the phone book open to "Health Spas." Mom was in the corner, standing on her head.
"Er, Mom, about dinner..."
"You know," said Mom, "I heard once that standing on your head helps relieve the pull of gravity on your body."
"I wouldn't know," I said. "About dinner..."
"Oh. Yes." Mom lowered herself from her headstand and stood up. "We're having roast chicken, so I guess we'd better get started. Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn't eat any chicken skin." She patted her stomach.
At dinner, Mom and Dad picked at their food, no doubt silently totaling all the calories. Iris ate like a draft horse and knocked over her glass of milk, which was becoming par for the course. I vaguely remember Mom complaining how I almost drove her nuts for a couple years starting when I was twelve, with all the phases I went through. Though I was sure Mom exaggerated about me, I could only hope Iris's phases would be short lived.
After dinner, just as I finished my homework, my phone rang. It was Anna.
"Well," she said. "How was the ride home with Matt?"
"He asked me out for a soda or something at Shakey's."
"You said yes, of course!"
"Actually...I turned him down."
"What! Why?"
"I've already explained my thoughts on the subject." I twisted a lock of my hair. How could I confess that I'd temporarily felt a pang of regret, only to have my original opinion reinforced by my parents' reaction to their reunion. I needed a more potent excuse. "Besides, I'm really interested in someone else."
"You are? Tell, tell!"
"It's...um, it's Bret . Bret Fleet."
"Bret Fleet? Huh. I don't think of him as your type."
"Oh?" I frowned into the phone. "Why not?"
"He's interested in stuff like bird watching and rock collecting."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. I've done both. I just don't picture you enjoying them."
"Hey. I like birds. And rocks."
"When did he ask you out, anyway?"
"Well, he hasn't. Exactly. Yet." I made a mental note to corner Bret first thing in the morning. "But we're very...friendly."
"I'm not one to stand in the way of a budding relationship," said Anna. "But somehow I think Bret is just a decoy."
"No. No he's not." I tried to sound convincing. "Look, I've got a ton of homework. I'll see you tomorrow."
The next day, I collared Bret on the pretext of discussing the yearbook layout. After some official chitchat, I batted my eyes and smiled so that my dimples deepened. I'd been above using such obvious flirting for years now, but time was short. Like it or not, relying on my cuteness was a shortcut. "I hear you like bird watching," I cooed.
"Oh, yes," said Bret . "In fact, tomorrow I'm helping with the official fall bird count."
"Really?" I tilted my head to one side, noticing as I did that Matt was watching me. I could feel myself blush. "That sounds like fun!"
"Say," said Bret . "I could use some help. Would you like to go with me?"
"I'd love to."
"Great." Bret pushed a shock of his brown hair off his forehead. "I'll have to pick you up at about five-thirty. Is that all right?"
"That's fine."
"I'll pack us both some breakfast. All that hiking will make you famished. Oh, and dress warmly and wear sturdy boots."
"Um. Is this five-thirty in the morning we're talking about?" I was beginning to see why Anna didn't think bird watching would turn out to be my favorite activity.
Bret laughed. "Yes. We'll be up with the birds."
"I can't wait."
Later, when I told Anna about my "date" with Bret , I tried to show some enthusiasm. But Anna wasn't convinced.
"It's going to be colder at five-thirty in the morning than it ever was in P.E.," she said gleefully.
"I'll be prepared." I sniffed.
When my alarm went off at four-thirty the next morning, all I wanted to do was to turn it off, bury myself under the covers, and go back to sleep for at least another four or five hours. But Bret would be picking me up in an hour. If I didn't go through with it, I'd never hear the end of it from Anna.
I dragged myself out of bed, dressed in so many layers that I could hardly move, and tiptoed to the kitchen to force myself to eat, even though I wasn't yet hungry, let alone awake. I gulped down a glass of juice and a banana just so I wouldn't starve.
Bret showed up at the dot of five-thirty. "Hi! All set?" he asked cheerfully.
"I'm ready!" I said, striving for enthusiasm.
We plunged into the darkness and drove to a woodsy area on the south side of town that was bordered by the salt meadow, the fancy name we New Englanders call a marsh. As the sun rose, Bret explained our mission. "Since I'm the experienced birdwatcher, I'll spot the birds and you can write down the type and number in this."
He pulled a little red book out of his pocket.
This sounded fine in theory, but it meant I had to take off my gloves. It wasn't long before my fingers were freezing.
We had to walk slowly and quietly. Every now and then Bret sucked air through his lips or noisily kissed the back of his hand to attract the birds. Bret was able to identify many of them by their songs before he even saw them.
They all sounded alike to me at first. But after a while I could tell there were different pitches, slurred notes, sharp whistles. I still couldn't identify any of the birds, however, so I kept careful track of Bret's count of various sparrows, chickadees, and blue jays.
I'd never realized how many varieties of sparrows there were. As my fingers started to turn numb, I occasionally wondered why anyone would care. We worked our way out of the woods to the edge of the salt meadow. Though my boots kept my feet dry, walking around in a couple inches of water still made my feet cold. Also, my stomach was beginning to growl. At one point it roared fiercely.
"Let's take a break," Bret suggested, taking pity on me.
We sat on a cold, slimy log.
"Ouch!" A sharp piece of bark dug into my, uh, backside.
"You okay?" Bret looked worried.
"No serious injuries." I forced a small laugh as I rubbed the wounded area as inconspicuously as possible.
Soon it was forgotten as I warmed my fingers by wrapping them around a steaming cup of tomato soup and soothed my insides. The solid food Bret offered wasn't quite so satisfying. It was something called trail mix, and it looked and tasted a lot like birdseed with raisins.
"Isn't this a great way to spend a morning?" Bret glowed.
"I'm learning a lot about birds," I said. But I'd already decided that the ones that visited my back yard were good enough for me.
After a couple more hours of snagging my jacket on brambles, tromping around in the muck and accumulating at least three inches of mud on my boots, I finally actually identified a tree sparrow on my own.
"Ah, the count is over," Bret declared. "I appreciate your record-keeping."
That made me feel a little better, but still not exactly eager to go bird-watching again. It was not an activity for the weak-bodied. It took a lot of endurance. I, for one, was at the point of exhaustion.
As Bret dropped me off at my house, he said, "Thanks for going with me. You were a big help. I had a lot of fun." He looked as though he still had enough energy to go out and do it all over again.
"Well, um, thanks for taking me," I said, trying to not collapse in a heap, at least until I got inside. "I did learn a lot about birds."
After Bret gave my cheek a friendly peck, I went
in and dragged myself to my room. I fell onto my bed.
A mere hour later, I was roused out of a deep sleep by a call from Anna.
"Hi! How was your big date with Bret?"
"Informative-but-exhausting." I yawned. "What's up? Or did you just call at the crack of day to wake me up?"
"It's almost noon, and I called to see if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. That new Jennifer Aniston comedy is playing."
"I could use a few laughs." I stretched and wiggled my toes. "As long as the theater is heated, I'll go."
"Great. Pick you up at seven."
"See you then." As soon as I hung up, I scrunched back under the cover for a few minutes. I had a new appreciation for central heating.
That evening, I headed for the snack bar as soon as we bought our movie tickets. Just as I was about to order a large bucket of popcorn with extra butter, who should walk in but Matt Stannard. With a girl! I couldn't get a good look at her. But the back of her head looked familiar. And to think I'd worried about hurting his feelings when I'd turned down his invitation to go to Shakey's. He'd certainly wasted no time forgetting about me!
"Pssst." Anna nudged me and whispered. "Look. There's Matt.
I nodded.
"He's with someone!"
I nodded again.
"Come on!" Anna grabbed me. "Let's see who the competition is."
I veered off toward the Women's Room, dragging Anna with me. Once inside, I dove into a stall.
"What are we doing in here?" Anna muttered. "We'll lose track of Matt."
"What do people usually do in bathrooms?" I banged down the toilet seat, tore off toilet paper, and generally tried to make it sound as if I was doing the necessary thing while I killed time.
"Don't you want to see who's with Matt?"
"Not especially." I flushed the toilet, came out, and washed my hands thoroughly. "Why should I care?"
"Aren't you curious?"
"There's no reason for me to be."
"Well," said Anna, "I'd like to find out who she is. Let's go."
"I haven't dried my hands yet." I pulled out a couple paper towels and started drying my fingers one by one. "Also, I don't particularly want to be caught spying."
"That's it!" said Anna. "You want to know who she is as much as I do. But you don't want Matt to see you!"
"Ha. I just think spying is...juvenile. That's all."
"Do you mind if we go inside and find a couple seats? Or has the sight of Matt got you so upset that you're going to hide in here all night?"
"I don't care about Matt one way or another. I just had to use the bathroom. Let's go."
We found seats on the side near the back. The movie started as we sat down, and, from that point on, Anna's attention was glued to the screen. I, however, couldn't help glancing around every now and then. Just as I'd decided that Matt was not in sight, I spotted him. He looked my way. Our eyes locked. I turned back to the screen first. I hadn't gotten a glimpse of Matt's date, because she was sitting on the far side of him. I was glad that the darkness hid the blush that crept into my cheeks.
When the movie was over, I pulled my coat collar up to hide my face and followed Anna out of the theater by looking down at her shoes. As we drove home, Anna blabbed on about the movie. It sounded as though it'd been pretty funny. I wished I could've paid more attention.
CHAPTER 3
"Excuse me." I'd had enough of my folks debating the pros and cons of various diets and exercise programs during dinner. Plus, Iris's fork clanged to the floor three times. So much has been written about the phases teenagers go through. What about pre-teens and the middle-aged?
I slipped out back to sprinkle some bread crumbs in the yard for the birds. I felt I owed it to them. Besides, maybe if I studied a few wrens and nuthatches I could erase the image of Matt and his mystery date from my mind.
The birds must have been lurking in the shrubbery, because, as soon as I finished spreading my bounty and sat on the back porch to wait, a flock appeared and started pecking the ground. Even with one eye on the birds and the other on the lookout for our neighbor's cat, I wasn't distracted enough. I kept wishing that Matt weren't so cute. And that he wasn't on the yearbook committee. If his nose was too wide or his ears stuck out maybe no one would think we'd make "an adorable couple." If he weren't on the yearbook committee, I wouldn't have to worry about maintaining authority over a guy I wanted to date.
But facts were facts. Matt was cute, and he was a yearbook editor. So I had no intention of going out with him. Not that it mattered much what my intentions were anyway. He'd already found a girlfriend!
"Hi. Iris said you were back here." As Anna spoke, the birds flew into the trees. "What're you up to?"
"I was just...feeding the birds." I pushed any thoughts of Matt to the back of my mind.
"Oops. Guess I scared them off. Sorry."
"That's okay--they'll come back if we go inside. C'mon."
In my room, Anna and I sat cross-legged on my bed. I fingered the golden palomino from my ceramic horse collection which I'd started when I was eight years old and didn't understand why we couldn't keep a horse in the back yard.
"How'd you like the movie?" said Anna.
"Oh, it was good. I guess."
"I really liked that part about the guy riding the giraffe."
"Oh. Yeah. That was funny."
"Just how much of the movie did you see, anyway?"
"I saw the whole thing!"
"You sure you didn't miss a scene or two."
"Well, maybe I wasn't paying attention for a second."
"Aha! You were watching Matt," Anna said triumphantly. "Admit it!"
"Of course not! I wouldn't...why would I..." My mixed up feelings were surfacing whether I liked it or not. I bit my lip. I'd always confided in Anna. "Yes. I was watching Matt. We even exchanged what you'd probably call 'a significant glance.'"
"You're weakening," Anna said sympathetically. "You want to go the next time he asks you to Shakey's or something."
"Sure…" I confessed. "But I can't."
"Of course you can," said Anna. "You're seventeen years old, intelligent, and cute as anything. You could probably go out with anyone you want."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, however exaggerated it might be." I sighed. "But being 'cute,' as you say, is part of the problem. You said yourself Matt and I would make an adorable couple. I can't handle that."
"I honestly don't see the problem," said Anna.
"It's a label," I pointed out. "A label that could follow us the rest of our lives and destroy us."
"Whoa!" Anna raised a forefinger. "Isn't that getting kind of melodramatic?"
"Well. Maybe. Just a bit. But you haven't seen my parents lately."
"Your parents? I saw them just a few minutes ago doing sit-ups in your living room. They looked reasonably indestructible to me."
"That's just it. They were doing sit-ups. On a Sunday afternoon. They've never done that before. Their twenty-fifth high school reunion is coming up. There were elected 'Most Adorable Couple' in the yearbook's Who's Who. Now they can't cope with the fact that they may no longer be the adorable couple they once were."
"You're freaking out about nothing. People go on self-improvement kicks for special occasions all the time. Remember how we dieted and exercised and put all kinds of junk on our skin and hair for weeks the summer before we started high school?"
"That was different. We were only thirteen."
"And before our junior class picnic you had your legs waxed."
"I was just being practical."
"Maybe your folks are just being practical," Anna suggested.
I shook my head. "They're going overboard, and it's not because they just want to look nice. They're worried that they can't live up to their past image."
"All right. I'll temporarily yield this point. You said Matt being so cute was one problem. What's the other?"
"Do I have to remind you that I'm now yearbook editor-in-ch
ief? I'm trying to become a take-charge person." My voice was getting louder. "How can I date someone when I might have to veto one of his ideas?"
"You went out with Bret ." Leave it to Anna to think of that.
"Bret will be working on format, not content. Besides, I'm not sure that was really a date. Bret was very sweet, but I have a feeling he did just need an extra pair of hands for the bird count."
"You could wait until the end of the year…"
"Nice try, Anna. But how would I put my feelings on hold all year? And who's to say Matt would be available by then anyway? I'll just have to forget him by dating guys who are completely different types."
"I see." Anna tried not to giggle. "You could then create an 'Odd Couple' category for Who's Who."
"This whole discussion is pointless anyway," I said. "Matt already seems to have a girlfriend."
"One trip to the movies does not a girlfriend make."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm not going to get my hopes up."
"I think you're being totally stubborn about this whole thing."
"Could be." I had no intention of letting Anna change my mind. "But I have to do what I think is best for me."
"Okay." Anna patted my hand. "Just don't rule out Matt without even giving him a chance."
That night, I tossed and turned a lot. Much of what Anna said made sense. But she didn't have to live with my choices. I did. I decided I had to squish any attraction I might feel for Matt and deal with him as just a friend.
The next day, I walked into the yearbook meeting, and there was Matt talking to the girl I'd seen him with at the movies! I could tell by the back of her head. Matt spotted me and waved hello. The girl turned around. It was Janie Wright, one of the junior class assistants. Now that I thought about it, she had decided to help with the photography. That would be cozy.
I thought I would avoid Matt and have a conference with Bret, but he was hovering around Ruby Melonson discussing the bird count. From their conversation, it became obvious that she'd been unable to go and that Bret had missed her company. Well, it was nice that Bret had considered me a good enough friend to turn to in a semi-emergency, especially since I'd practically volunteered my services. But it left me with no one handy to distract myself from Matt.
