JJ frowned.
“What? We can at least explore the idea,” Queenie insisted. “It’s not without merit.”
CHAPTER 11
Kyan grunted as he finished the last set of squats on his well-muscled legs that now shook more like quivering rubber. He was pushing himself to the limit. But it wasn’t because he was tired. It was because he was frustrated.
“Hey, don’t push it,” Jason warned as he watched Kyan from the bench beside him. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Relax,” Kyan said, straightening up. “I’m fine.” He breathed in hard and wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the bottom of his muscle tank top.
“You don’t look so good,” Jason remarked.
Kyan glared at him. Then he studied himself in the mirror and frowned. It was true. He looked absolutely horrible. His skin was extremely pale, without the usual hint of golden brown that he’d achieved over the summer lifeguarding at the beach where his parents owned a summer home.
His eyes had grown gloomy and gray, and he bore a fresh scratch just above his left cheek from having been elbowed in the face while trying to head the ball.
They had traveled across the state to play Cartwright, the lowest-seeded team in their division. Lately it seemed as if the entire soccer team was comprised of a group of underweight sissies who didn’t comprehend the meaning of teamwork or dedication. They had been outplayed and outmatched by a less talented team. As a result, they had lost the game, getting pummeled five to nothing. And to make matters worse, Kendal McCarthy had snubbed him completely on Friday night.
After she’d left him sitting alone on that couch, wondering what in the world he could have possibly done wrong, Kyan realized that he was going to have to step up his game just a little bit. Kendal was playing hard to get and while it was a tad annoying, it was also incredibly appealing.
“So what happened Friday night?” Jason asked. “Did you hook up with her?”
Kyan picked up two dumbbells and knelt down on a bench. He started working his triceps, his eyes glued to the mirror so that he could observe his form.
“I thought so,” Jason concluded after a moment.
Kyan immediately dropped the weight from his hand and stood up. “Thought what?” he asked firmly.
“Thought that she was out of your league,” Jason laughed. “Even for you.”
Kyan took a step closer so that his nose was about an inch away from Jason’s. “Who said she’s out of my league?”
“Dude. Relax. It’s obvious that you didn’t get anywhere with her.”
Kyan lunged forward and pushed Jason in the chest.
Jason gritted his teeth, “What’s your problem?”
Kyan glared hard as he tried to think of a good reason to get in Jason’s face. He stood face to face with him a moment longer before he bent over, picked up the weight and began lifting again. “Nothing,” he said between breaths. “She’s just going to be more of a challenge than I had anticipated, that’s all.”
“I hear ya,” Jason said, not wanting to add to Kyan’s salty mood. “It wouldn’t be any fun if she just gave in easily.”
“Exactly.”
“You almost done? I’m hungry.”
Kyan’s stomach was growling so loudly that it seemed to be echoing throughout the entire workout room. But he knew he still had more work to do. His stamina had weakened early during yesterday’s game, so he was determined to work out longer to build up more endurance and strength. “I’ve got more work to do here.”
“All right,” said Jason. “Catch you later then.”
Kyan began to work on stretches with his arms and legs. Maybe he would even head over to the soccer field and take a few shots on net. Though his legs ached, he pushed through the pain. Something else was aching inside him, as well.
Though he had singled Kendal out as the girl he most desperately wanted to be with during his last year at Sampson Academy, he wasn’t even sure he liked her that much. Sure, she was pretty and probably the best-looking girl on campus, but there was something missing. Whenever he thought back to the list of girls he dated, that seemed to be the prevailing issue—something was always missing. But he also knew that it wasn’t the feelings he was supposed to have for them. It was status.
Maybe one day he’d meet a girl he actually cared for, one he’d want to get to know on a deeper level. With that, he centered his thoughts on next weekend’s party, the legendary invite-only soccer party. Each player was allowed to invite one guest. And his guest was going to be Kendal McCarthy. There’s no way she would turn him down. Invite-only was a gathering of all the VIP students at Sampson. And Kendal had a reputation to uphold. Kyan was confident that he would get another shot. And this time he was going to convince her to give in to him.
CHAPTER 12
Kendal had done a good job of avoiding the weekend soccer party scene. She had feigned sickness on Saturday evening and spent the night watching reruns and MTV’s The Real World. Christine got home late. She had stumbled into the room and fallen onto the floor, simultaneously knocking over a stack of books. Kendal had to help her into bed.
As a result, Christine spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon wearing a blue-colored cold pack with eye-holes cut out over her face. She looked like a female version of a modern day Zorro.
In times past Kendal would have been right there with Christine, both of them lying in agony, drinking refillable bottles of water, popping Tylenol,and watching endless hours of Lifetime television. But today, Kendal had gotten up early and gone for a walk. Sometimes it amazed her how beautiful Sampson Academy was, especially in fall when the leaves had begun to change colors. Vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow were scattered amongst the branches reaching high into the sky.
Built back in the 1800s, the campus consisted of colonial buildings made of brick and grand white pillars. Bay windows sat atop four-story buildings fronted by circular porches. All of the buildings were named after local heroes and students who had gone on to become “somebodies.” That was the school motto—Sampson Academy, Be Somebody. Kendal always thought the school motto should be—Sampson Academy, where everyone knows your name and your business.
This was because of the small student population and ensuring that all of the classes had at most fifteen students to one teacher. It was hands-on learning, where every student could get to know his or her teachers on a personal basis. That, plus the beauty of the campus, was why Kendal had been attracted to the school in the first place. Other factors included Sampson’s unblemished academic reputation and its ability to prepare students for college. Kendal’s parents, her father especially, insisted that she go to Sampson so that she could get into a good college. They were afraid that if she attended a public high school she would be on the fast track to community college. It didn’t matter to her parents that the tuition bill left them financially strapped. Education was far more important. For that reason, Kendal felt pressured to get good grades. She hated to disappoint her parents.
At first she hated Sampson because she felt so out of place. She hadn’t planned on getting involved in any school activities. But the appeal of friendships and social interaction sort of swept her up and spit her out, and the next thing she knew, she was a part of the cheerleading team. The other cheerleaders had taken a liking to her right from the start. They invited her to sit with them at their table in the cafeteria and to social gatherings and soccer parties. She finally felt like she belonged.
Kendal’s walk had led her into town to buy some essentials, including tampons and a few snack items such as Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and her one major food addiction, Chex Mix. She passed by The Spot and peered into the window. The room to the left of the main counter was filled with artsy types of paintings on the wall and soft plushy couches scattered haphazardly across a gleaming maple floor. One foamy apple-red chair off in the corner was built in the shape of a giant hand, so you could sit in the palm.
To t
he right of the counter stood a stage, a very small stage that featured a solid black backdrop with a single brown bar stool in the center. Across the backdrop Kendal read the words, “fantasize reality,” spelled out in big bold white letters.
There were a few round tables in front of the stage and set off to the back of the room, big enough to accommodate just two to three people at a time. Votive candles floated in bowls of water at the center of each table.
So this is where JJ likes to hang out, Kendal thought. She pictured the place filled with random vagabonds and folk singers on the center stage, humming original songs about the meaning of life. This wasn’t the type of place she would have initially guessed that JJ would go to on a Friday night. Rather, she could see her at some sporting event, like a hockey game with a bunch of her basketball teammates, or maybe a local sports bar where ESPN played on ten different television sets, and overbearing drunkards challenged one another to games of pool and darts.
But here was her hangout—a sweet and inviting coffee shop, something of a hidden treasure where she probably spent her time having intellectual conversations with eccentric people. Who knew such things existed in a town built around a soccer rivalry and the annual homecoming weekend packed with games and a lavish parade?
Kendal took a step back from the window and glanced at the hours posted below. Next to the open sign was a poster that read, “Poetry Slam Every Friday Night.” The first prize winner won fifty dollars and publication in a local writing magazine called Scattered Thoughts. She wondered if JJ knew about the contest.
JJ.
Kendal hadn’t thought about her conversation with JJ since Friday night, until that moment. A nervous sensation erupted inside of her when she thought about the fact that she’d be seeing JJ at the library in a couple of hours.
She felt slightly ashamed for being so blunt and asking JJ about her sexual orientation. It really was none of her business, but Christine had planted all of those thoughts in her head in the first place. And Kendal’s curiosity was something that she always had a hard time controlling.
Once, when she was about five, she’d found a book of matches in her mother’s purse. Although she knew they were dangerous, she desperately wanted to see what would happen if she struck one really fast. Well, something happened all right. The entire matchbook caught on fire and in a panic she’d dropped it into the bottom of the purse. Her mom’s favorite bag had gone up in flames, and was reduced to a gooey, ashy, black mess in the middle of the living room floor.
Though the incident had left her unharmed, she would be scarred for the rest of her young life with the nickname Curious Kendal, given to her by her older brother. There were other occasions where Curious Kendal struck with reckless abandon, many of which could be forgotten, but each satisfying an overwhelming urge to see just what would happen or to simply find out the truth. That’s exactly why she’d asked JJ about her sexual orientation. Kendal grabbed her cell phone out of her purse and checked the time. In just a few more hours they would be meeting at the library. She tingled in anticipation.
* * *
Once back at the dorm, Kendal slowly opened the door to her room, afraid to disturb Christine, who she sometimes alluded to as Sleeping Beauty. But as soon as she spied Christine’s body, it became obvious that her roommate was awake.
“Ughhhh,” Christine moaned, curled up in a fetal position and clutching her iPhone. “I think this is the worst possible hangover I’ve ever had. You know what I need?”
“Alcoholics Anonymous?” asked Kendal, smartly.
“Funny. No. I need some grease, you know?” Christine pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “What do you think about pizza?”
Kendal paused. “I like pizza, but I think I like it best when it’s just cheese. You know, the perfect combination of cheese and sauce. And thick crust, I like thick crust.”
Christine dropped her hand to her side heavily, as if were weighted down. “Is there a particular reason why you’re being such a sarcastic snot right now?”
Her eyes bore into Kendal, who busied herself sifting through the pile of books on her desk.
“I’m sorry,” Kendal returned, thoughtfully. Normally sarcasm wasn’t something she played at, but she was irritated at watching Christine wasting the day in bed, dramatizing herself. Although she recognized her passive-aggressive manner, it still provided a way to release her irritation. Nevertheless, she dropped the attitude. “You were saying—”
“Pizza, I was saying. Let’s get some pizza for dinner.” Christine sat up now, the prospect of food taking hold. She fiddled with her iPhone and started looking up the number for a local pizza place. “And then we could rent a movie, some sappy romantic comedy or something.”
“Can’t,” said Kendal, without the least bit of regret. “I’ve got a tutoring session in the library. I’m going to eat at the dining hall, and then head straight over. Maybe Laurie will want to do pizza.”
Laurie, another cheerleader who lived in their dorm, though slightly overweight, was quite proud of her junk food addiction. In fact, Laurie let it be known that pizza was one of the five important food groups, at least in her world.
Kendal often wondered if Laurie laundered money from the cheerleading fund and dues collection to buy the enormous amount of junk food and goodies that she kept stashed in her dorm room closet. Every time they hung out in Laurie’s room, Kendal half expected to find cardboard boxes full of Oreo cookies, potato chips, candy bars and the like sitting somewhere amidst the clutter.
“More tutoring with the lesbian?” Christine asked. Her tone brushed hard against Kendal’s ears.
“Why do you have to even bring that up?”
“Because she is.”
“She has a name. It’s JJ. Maybe you should try using it.”
“What is your deal? You’ve been acting strange ever since you started hitting the books so hard.”
“I don’t have a deal. What I do have is a tutoring session with a girl who’s kind of cool, and I think that maybe you should stop judging people when you don’t even know a thing about them.”
Christine climbed out of bed, and evened out her pajama shorts. Her lips were moving, and Kendal sensed that she was choosing her words carefully.
“I know all I need to know about her,” she said coolly. “And don’t forget, I know you, too.” She casually grabbed her robe off of the back of the door and pulled it on. As she was tying the knot around her waist, she looked up at Kendal. Her eyes were icy. “I don’t know who you are trying to be lately, but it sure isn’t the Kendal McCarthy that I know.”
She pulled the knot tighter and tossed Kendal one final cold look before she left the room.
Fuming, Kendal threw her books into her backpack. What bothered her most was the fact that Christine somehow managed to sneak in the last word.
“I know me,” she said aloud in the vacant room, her voice overflowing with anger. “I know myself better than anyone, and I also know that for the past few years I haven’t been the real me.”
In the middle of her monologue, she stepped on something squishy lying on the floor. She bent over, picked up the ice mask that Christine had been wearing, and threw it at her unmade bed.
“You don’t know me at all,” she spat. “So take your little beauty mask and shove it.”
CHAPTER 13
JJ was at the library much earlier than she needed to be. She’d skipped going to the dining hall with Queenie, afraid that she might get distracted or delayed by needless conversation. Instead, she enjoyed a healthy portion of ramen noodles, the chicken-flavored kind, and some crackers. She also took a long time to select an outfit. Normally she would go to the library wearing nothing more than jogging pants and a sweatshirt, but today she felt like raising the bar just a bit. She put on a pair of jeans and a vintage T-shirt from the Gap. Instead of wearing her usual baseball cap, she decided to slather some gel in her hair and spike up the ends just so. She even sprayed on some cologne fo
r good measure.
Now she sat in the library at the same table Kendal and she had been at last time, her knees shaking slightly. Every so often, she caught a whiff of her own cologne and smiled. At the very least, she certainly smelled good. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and read a text message from Queenie, “Beware of the science experiment!” All JJ could do was laugh.
She stuffed her cell phone back in her pocket, and idly thumbed through a book of poetry she’d pulled off one of the shelves. She kept a watchful eye on the door as she reread each sentence. Somehow, she’d missed seeing Kendal storm her way into the library, and looked up only when the girl reached the table. Kendal’s bag of books landed on top of the table with a resounding thud.
“Hi,” she said, her face expressionless.
“Um, are you okay?” JJ asked cautiously.
“Me? Yeah. I’m fine.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the bag of Chex Mix she had bought earlier. “Except for the fact that I’ve just now realized that I’ve wasted all my time here at Sampson on a group of girls who are mostly small-minded and lack any substance at all.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
Kendal slid down into the chair next to her. “No. I think it’s dead on,” she snapped. Then she slid the bag of Chex Mix over to JJ who politely declined. Kendal shrugged and began snacking mindlessly. “I’ve known these girls for three years now and they don’t even have one small clue about who I really am.” She tucked her hair back behind her ears, which caused JJ to look at her in amazement.
The Trouble with Emily Dickinson Page 6
