“So?”
“So, I’m bursting with fruit-flavored curiosity.”
“She’s not what she seems,” JJ insisted. Anxiety itched in her stomach, and she longed to change the subject. But Queenie knew her too well, and if she were hiding something it would be completely obvious.
“She’s not materialistic and stuck up like the rest of her cheerleading counterparts?”
“She’s, I don’t know, she’s—she’s different. She’s nice.”
“Nice?” Queenie’s jaw fell nearly to the table. “I don’t believe it! You like her!”
JJ immediately shook her head in defiance. “No! I don’t even know her.”
“Yeah, but you used the word ‘nice.’”
“So, I happen to think she’s nice. That doesn’t mean I like her!” JJ’s voice jumped at least an octave higher. “You always jump to conclusions like this because it gives you something to talk about.”
“Really?” Queenie asked, cocking her head to one side. “Then why are you getting all defensive?”
“I’m not getting defensive!”
Queenie sat back in her chair and folded her arms satisfyingly across her chest.
“Don’t look at me like that,” JJ warned. She remained steadfast, even though she knew that Queenie had guessed her secret. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when the Dibble Syndrome hits.”
Ah, yes. The notorious Dibble Syndrome. JJ had considered it, too. During her sophomore year, she’d developed an obsession with a girl in one of her classes named Kelly Dibble. She fell so hard for her that it finally caused her to confront her feelings head on.
JJ made the mistake of telling Kelly that she was gay and how she felt. Kelly’s reaction was anything but comforting. In fact, she was downright appalled and stopped speaking to JJ altogether. JJ soon fell into a depression, and Kelly transferred to another school the following semester. Though it was rumored that Kelly had transferred because her parents had wanted her closer to home, JJ suspected that she was an integral reason for the transfer.
With Queenie’s help, JJ somehow managed to climb up from the hole she’d sunk into, and regain her sense of self. From that point on, she and Queenie had dubbed any serious crush that left their minds senselessly wandering as the Dibble Syndrome. But JJ knew this was different.
“It’s not the Dibble Syndrome,” she said. “Not even close.”
“OK, if you say so.” Queenie began to rub her left shoulder with purpose, grimacing from the soreness. “Coach must have had something rather large and obtrusive stuck up her butt this morning. I mean, how many sprints can one person run in a two-hour span?”
JJ nearly snorted orange juice through her nostrils. As she was about to respond with her own witty comment, she spotted Kendal McCarthy walking across the cafeteria towards the cheerleading table in the corner.
Most of the tables in the cafeteria were unofficially spoken for. JJ and her teammates sat at their designated table near the salad bar, while the boy’s basketball team sat directly behind them. The soccer players sat at the longest table near the front of the dining hall. At the next table sat the students in the academic achievement group, and yet another table was reserved for the debating team.
The remaining tables were filled accordingly with members of other athletic teams, the drama club, the Cultural Awareness Society, the art club, the Christian society and whatever other clubs remained on campus. Students who didn’t belong to a particular group bonded together and seized whatever open tables they could. Sitting at the wrong table constituted a big no-no at Sampson Academy.
JJ remembered when she mistakenly had sat down at the cheerleading table her freshman year. Every single girl at the table had looked at her as if she were an illegal immigrant who’d dared to cross the border without a valid passport. One senior had even gone so far as to remark, “Excuse me, but you do know that this table is for cheerleaders only.”
Of course I didn’t know that, JJ had thought. There was no neon sign or illuminated billboard advertising that fact. JJ had wanted to spit those very words back out at her but swallowed them instead. Feeling defeated, she’d scraped together what remained of her pride and moved to another table.
“Ahem.”
JJ snapped out of her daze. Queenie was giving her that look, the one that JJ’s mother used to give her when she knew she was hiding something. “Could you be staring any harder?”
“Could you be any more annoying?” JJ shot back.
* * *
Kendal was on a natural high. She actually had begun to enjoy her Women’s Literature class since she’d decided to get some tutoring. For once, she finally understood what her teacher was talking about and was able to contribute to class discussions instead of doodling in her notebook like she had since the beginning of the semester.
Her hair just barely reached into a ponytail, so she tucked the loose strands behind her ears. Her school uniform, a jacket and skirt combination, hung neatly at her hips. The Academy’s uniform policy required that girls wear either a black skirt or a pair of khaki pants during class hours, and Kendal had noticed that JJ always opted for the pants.
“Are you going to the soccer party tonight?” Christine asked as Kendal sat down across from her.
“Definitely. I think I’ve earned it after all the extra work I’ve been doing lately.”
“I can’t believe you can eat all of that greasy mess.” Christine motioned to Kendal’s tray, stirring granola into her own cup of yogurt.
Kendal looked down at her runny eggs, cooked over-easy, complemented with potatoes and bacon. She then eyed Christine’s yogurt. “At least I eat,” she retorted.
“I eat! I just choose to eat healthy.” Christine grabbed her spoon and licked the yogurt off of it. “Excuse me if I’m not lucky enough to have your turbo metabolism.”
“I can’t help it if I burn through food like it’s jet fuel.” Kendal picked at her eggs. “I’m so glad I decided to get a tutor for Women’s Literature.”
“Speaking of which, who did you land this time? I hope it wasn’t that Asian kid with the horrible acne again.”
“God, no,” Kendal said quickly. “It’s JJ something or other. She’s on the basketball team. You’ve probably seen her around school. She hangs around with that rich girl with the weird name, Queenie or something.”
Christine hacked and coughed as if she was about to spit her yogurt back up. “You have no luck with tutors at all!” she gasped.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look at your track record. First you get that weird guy with the lazy eye, then the girl who spit when she talked, then Asian acne boy and now to top it off, a lesbian.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kendal!” Christine’s eyes widened. “She’s gay. So is half of the basketball team.” She spooned out the rest of her yogurt with her index finger and licked it off. “C’mon, you seriously didn’t know? I swear it amazes me how naïve you can be.”
Kendal picked up a piece of bacon, “I’m not naïve. I just never suspected.”
“It’s so obvious,” Christine continued.
Kendal felt a sourness growing in her stomach. The appetite she’d been bragging about moments earlier had completely vanished. She had suspected that JJ was different somehow, especially the way she paused in mid-conversation around her or when Kendal had caught her staring. But she had stared back at JJ. She’d even smiled back in a way that was more than friendly. But if JJ was gay, did that mean that she—?
“Has she hit on you yet?” Christine prodded.
Kendal practically threw the piece of bacon back down on her plate. “Will you stop it?”
“What? I’m sure she thinks you’re hot. I mean, everyone at this school thinks you’re hot.”
“She helps me with homework, that’s it. That’s what a tutor does.”
“Well, I’d just be careful if I
were you,” Christine advised. “Don’t give her your phone number, or she might start texting you. And make sure that you don’t sit too close to her or anything.”
Kendal immediately thought of them sitting at the table in the library where she and JJ usually shared a book of poetry and how she’d accidentally brushed up against JJ on more than one occasion over the past couple of weeks. She thought of how JJ had mentioned that Dickinson could have been in love with another woman.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she thought about their last tutoring session, when they talked about Dickinson’s “wild nights” and who she might have been writing about. She thought about the questions JJ had asked her, about the feeling of their locked hands, and about her own response. She felt dizzy and lightheaded.
Christine began to gossip with the other girls at their table as if nothing had happened. The conversation eventually swung to the coming evening events, and Kendal pretended to listen while a strange curiosity engulfed her, giving her knots in her stomach.
CHAPTER 6
Kyan Stevens grunted as he lifted the fifty-pound barbell with his left hand.
He counted silently. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
His tanned torso was covered with a black muscle shirt and he wore a pair of matching black mesh shorts. The sandy hair that normally hung just above his eyes was held back now by a black bandana. A tattoo of barbwire circled his left leg around the calf muscle. And the diamond-studded earrings in his ears sparkled in the weight room lights.
He breathed heavily, watching himself in the mirror. The weight gain supplement that his coach had advised him to take was beginning to work. He couldn’t believe that the soccer season already was half over. This was his last season of his high school career. He had to perform well. He had to show the underclassmen what Sampson soccer was about, where true dedication and hard work could get you.
He picked up the barbell with his right hand and repeated the reps. Sweat began to form on his brow. The image in the mirror reflected his obsession with perfection.
Everything in his life was set to high standards, from his grades to the girls he dated. He had always set his goals high. Having a military captain for a father was part of the reason. Lack of confidence was the other, but he’d never admit that. Pushing to the top had grown into an inescapable addiction. But he’d achieved a great deal. He had the perfect body, a complete mass of toned muscle and definition. He had the perfect reputation, a captain on the soccer team. He had the perfect grade point average and already had been accepted into one of the top pre-law programs in the country. There was one more thing he needed though, one piece to make the puzzle complete. He needed the perfect girl.
Tired of dating the same old blondes with incredible looks but zero personalities, Kyan had finally decided it was time to find someone more wholesome. He and his teammates were the most popular students in the entire school. It seemed only natural that he partner up with someone from the cheerleading team, which was made up of the prettiest girls on campus. The obvious choice would be the head cheerleader, Mya Brooks. But he found her to be slightly heftier than he preferred, plus she had a reputation for being extremely headstrong and opinionated.
His unconsciously shook his head at the mirror. Then he sank to the ground, and began to do sit ups.
Kyan wanted someone less brainy, someone smart enough to carry on a conversation, but not too smart. Someone who would be willing to let him control the reigns of the relationship and steer it in the direction he desired. Someone like Kendal McCarthy.
She was perfect for him—just the right size, beautiful, likeable, popular, but seriously lacking in the area of intelligence. He often spotted her in the library being tutored. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and she would be somewhat of a challenge for him, since other guys at Sampson were most likely interested in her as well.
“Hey, we’re thinking of having a party tonight. You up for it?”
One of Kyan’s soccer teammates, Jason, now stood over him. Sixty minutes on the treadmill had drenched his friend’s shirt with sweat. “Definitely,” Kyan replied between reps.
“I told Christine,” Jason said. “She’s going to get all the girls from the cheerleading squad to come.”
Kyan sat up and smiled slyly. “Perfect. I think it’s time Kendal McCarthy and I get to know each other a little better.”
“Kendal McCarthy? THE Kendal McCarthy?”
“Yes, Kendal McCarthy. What’s the big deal?”
“Nothing,” Jason said. “I just think she’s a bit out of reach, you know. Even for you.”
“This is me you’re talking to. All it takes is a little bit of charm, a few compliments and the rest just falls into place.”
“Whatever you say, buddy.”
Kyan climbed to his feet and flexed in front of the mirror. Sometimes it was almost too much, knowing how things in his life were working out so well. The only thing he was missing was a girlfriend. But no girl in her right mind would turn him down, especially not Kendal McCarthy. “Let’s go,” he said.
They left the sweat-filled athletic center, both of their bodies pumping from endorphins and high expectations for the weekend.
CHAPTER 7
JJ sat in her room listening to some soft R&B on her stereo. Queenie had gone home for the weekend. Her parents lived only half an hour away in the affluent Rolling Hills, a suburb of Richmond, and her mother was forcing her to attend a bridal shower for her older sister. The only thing that eased Queenie’s mind about being home was the fact that she secretly had planned her biggest revenge on her family to date.
As far as JJ knew, Queenie’s mother, father and sister were the only ones who were aware of her sexual orientation. About two years earlier her father had threatened to disown her after her mother caught Queenie in the guest bedroom kissing a female member of the cleaning staff. But with a little convincing from Mrs. McBride, he’d learned to live with the situation.
It seemed as though Queenie’s main goal in life was to antagonize her parents. She’d succeeded plenty of times before: by getting kicked out of three other private schools, by spending a summer in a juvenile detention hall for stealing from a high-end fashion boutique frequented by her mother, by hanging with what they considered was the wrong crowd, and by spending her parents’ money as though she were playing a mean game of Monopoly.
But Queenie was planning her biggest production yet. At her sister’s wedding reception she would announce in her maid of honor speech that she was gay. It would be an affair to remember, one that the assembly of guests could never forget, Queenie promised, when she first disclosed her devious little plan to JJ.
Of all the stunts Queenie had ever pulled, this was going to be the most outrageous of them all. JJ shook her head in disbelief. Sometimes it seemed as though Queenie lived inside a movie script rather than in reality.
Even though JJ’s own family initially had a hard time accepting the news when she told them that she was gay, they eventually came around. It was the most difficult thing she’d done in her short life thus far, and she couldn’t imagine how anything could be harder. She and her family were close. Her older brother recently had graduated from college and taught math at a local high school. Her mother also was a teacher, and her father sold advertising space for a local paper.
JJ remembered the night clearly, and had replayed it in her mind repeatedly. It was early June. She’d just finished her sophomore year at Sampson Academy and was in search of a summer job. Her parents had remained quiet that week, thinking she was depressed because she was stuck at home for the summer and hadn’t yet found a job so that she could make some extra money. That, of course, was not the reason.
From the moment JJ had stepped into the house, she knew she was going to have to tell them the truth. Her mother still hung on to the hope that she’d outgrow this so-called tomboy phase. But it wasn’t a phase. Her father, whom she loved and respected more than anyone else in her life, didn’t kn
ow the real her. It was eating her alive. With each passing day, JJ grew increasingly reserved. Her head constantly spun with the anticipated conversation, from the moment she awoke each morning until she lay awake, wide-eyed, in her bed each night. She felt as if she’d been carrying on an act, being untrue to both herself and them.
JJ had always amazed herself with how easily words came to her, yet when she needed them the most, she couldn’t find them. There was no plan, no designated date or time, to tell her family. The feeling kept swelling until it became too big for her body, until she had no other choice but to let it out from inside of her so that she could breathe easily once again.
Finally, about two weeks after she‘d arrived home, the night had come. She and her parents sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner. Roast beef and vegetables, JJ remembered. She could barely swallow her potatoes. Her feeling of dread had grown so massive it was filling up her throat.
“Why are you so quiet?” her mother had asked, so caring and so sincere.
“Are you upset that you haven’t found a job yet?” asked her father. “I could check with the paper. I’m sure I could get you a part-time writing job, maybe an internship.”
JJ swallowed the potatoes that had turned to mush from sitting in her mouth, and shook her head.
“Do you miss school?” her mother asked.
“No, it’s not that.” JJ’s eyes widened, when she realized she still had the ability to talk. She felt the words begin to climb up her throat, and knew there was no going back.
“I have to tell you something,” she continued, her words coming slowly. “Something I am afraid to say. Something that I have to say, even though I know you both will be disappointed.”
Her father set down his fork and eyed her mother. JJ could see the concern in his expression, the worry and the confusion. Her mother remained composed.“Josie, you can tell us anything.”
The Trouble with Emily Dickinson Page 3
