by J. Q. Davis
“Grace, did you hear anything I just said?”
I came back down to earth. “Oh, sorry Phoebe. Yes, I did.”
No, I didn’t.
“Are you fantasizing about him again? G, I don’t think this is healthy. Your brain, like, completely goes into fart mode when you’re in a thirty foot radius of him. Seriously, I think you may need to lay him down…”
“Phoebe! What are you about to say?” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
“Um… lay him down to rest, Dirty Bird,” she snapped as she grabbed her books from her locker two doors down from mine. “Geez, someone’s mind is in the gutter this morning. Look, he and Sonny are never going to end. So, G, you really should just move on.”
She was right. I didn’t ever have a chance. He thought I was a big joke, and he would never leave Sonny. I hated it when Phoebe was right. I shook the thoughts of Tristen for now.
“Okay, you’re right. So, what were you saying?” Phoebe continued to tell me about the sexy guy she worked with at the mall while we waited outside of homeroom for the bell to ring. I envied this about her. Phoebe Morgan was not wildly popular, but very social. She was definitely the social butterfly of the school. She made it a point to be friends with everyone. Never hung out with just one group of people. You could catch her floating around during lunch hour, making her way down through the variety of crowds scattered throughout the courtyard. The preps, the jocks, the geeks, the highs (the constantly stoned kids). We were the closest, though. She lived a block down from my house, and we had been friends since we were in the third grade. We went to elementary, middle, and now high school together. Phoebe was the kind of girl that many other girls secretly envied, and guys liked to hang out with. I was the only really close girlfriend she had. Although I secretly envied her as well, I still thought highly of her. She was just so charismatic and really didn’t care what anyone thought of her.
I watched her thin, petite body animate every detail of her new eye candy, as her big green eyes expressed her emotions. She wasn’t drop dead gorgeous or model material, but her personality definitely put her in that category.
She tied her long, wavy black hair up in a ponytail and proceeded to detail every bit of this new guy in her life. I was still thinking about Tristen.
The third period bell rang when I realized how starving I was. Good, just one more hour before lunch. As I opened my locker to switch out my books for calculus next period, I wondered what Mom packed for me today. Breakfast was huge, but lunch was not much smaller. Normally, Mom would pack a sandwich, most of the time two, roast beef and ham, on a croissant with pickles, lettuce, homemade ketchup (yes, homemade ketchup!), onions, and mustard, a thermos of her famous pomegranate juice, chips, and a banana. There was not much that I enjoyed doing more than eating. All of my memories revolved around food. Mom was always cooking. She always made sure she had breakfast, lunch and dinner for me every day. I realized that I was getting older, and that I should be able to cook for myself. But let’s be honest, what teenager didn’t like to be spoiled with food? She definitely spoiled me when it came to that. She would encourage me to try the different recipes she would conjure up in her head that week. And they always seemed to be delicious. I often wondered why she chose to be in the medical field and not a chef.
As I closed my locker door, a figure standing behind it almost made me pee my pants.
I grabbed my chest. “Oh, gosh you scared me!” My brain hadn’t yet registered it was Tristen until I heard his deep, intoxicating voice.
“Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have been a creep hiding behind your locker door,” he laughed.
Oh.My.God. Between my heart racing from being startled and having Tristen speaking to me, I thought I might just pass out. “No, its fine. So… what is up?” Just play it off, Grace.
“Are you going to calculus right now?” he asked, resting against the locker.
“Yeah,” I said in a whisper. I could feel my armpits beginning to sweat. I was praying it wouldn’t show.
“I am sort of not doing well in that subject. Math was never my favorite.”
“Oh, yeah,” I breathed out, followed by a ridiculously loud giggle. Geez, I knew I sounded like an idiot. I wasn’t sure if I had asked a question or made a statement.
“So, in order for me to stay on the swim team, I really need to bring up my grade,” he admitted with a shameful look. “I was wondering if maybe you could tutor me. I am usually free on Thursdays, if that’s okay with you?”
Was he asking me what I thought he was asking me? I was pretty sure my mouth was wide open. What should I say? I mean, Tristen, the most attractive, sexy, gorgeous guy in school was asking me to tutor him. Was I sweating? I felt kind of numb. Why else would I go to Tristen’s house after school to help him study? Or would he be coming to my house? Oh my gosh, I really needed to clean my room! Wait! Would he come into my bedroom? Well, that would be a little slutty of me. I wouldn’t let him come into my bedroom on our first date! Ha! This wouldn’t be a date, would it? Oh God, I could smell the sweat under my arms…
“Um, Grace?” He looked confused.
My vision finally came back and I could see the confused expression he was giving me. “Oh, sorry, so you need help? Yeah I can…”
“Tristen! I was waiting for you by my locker! What are you doing… with Granny-panty?” And there she was, perfect Sonny Westwood. She stomped her way in between us, throwing her arm around his neck. I flinched when she tossed her perfect hair into my face. “Can we go? We are gonna be late.”
“Yeah, I was just asking Grace for some help with calculus.” I looked down at my feet when she turned to look at me.
“Why? Sweetie, I don’t think she knows enough about calculus to help you. I mean, is she even smart?” she asked, and turned to give an awful duck face.
“Well, she does have an A in the class, and she loves math,” he smiled and glanced over to me. I did love math. How did he know that?
“Yeah, I do love math,” I whispered under my breath.
“What? Did you say something Granny?” she asked.
“Yeah, she said she loves math. Come on. I have to get to class.” His patience with her seemed to have run out. “Grace, will you meet me here on Thursday after school?”
Okay, I was assuming he wanted an answer that second.
“Um, yeah…yes. Thursday. Sounds good,” I said, heart still racing. Sonny whipped her head back around to Tristen, this time leaving me with the taste of shampoo in my mouth. I quickly tried to get it out. I couldn’t see her face, but I was assuming it was not pleasant. She was cursing him with her eyes, and I’m almost positive she was cursing me in her head. He grabbed her hand and they walked away.
Thursday. Wait what was today? Okay, Tuesday. Tuesday?
I stood at my locker, trying to understand what just happened. In the two years that he had been here, we had never really spoken. Once, we bumped into each other in the breezeway outside. He turned to me and said, “Oh, sorry.” I nodded and just kept on my way. Then, last year, he asked me what pages of Catcher in the Rye we were supposed to read for homework in English. I mumbled chapters six and seven before burying my head in my book. But other than that, we never really spoke. Sonny snatched him before anyone could even have a chance. Since then, he had been with her nonstop. What was it about her? I understood she was attractive, wealthy, and… well, that was pretty much it. She was not a nice person. And although she did have great grades, I refused to believe it was due to her hard work. Her parents probably paid the school off. And to be honest, not being smart should bring down the attractive level a notch. But, I shouldn’t judge. Maybe underneath all of that makeup, blonde hair, Mark Jacobs clothing, and powerful-because-my-parents-are-wealthy-and-successful exterior, she was a decent and sensitive person. Or not.
Calculus could not have taken any longer. As I sat in class, listening to Mrs. Turner explain the derivative of parametric equations, I watched Tristen two row
s over, three desks in front of me struggling to understand what she was saying. He really seemed to need help. I fantasized about what Thursday was going to be like. Maybe his parents would be working, so we would be alone. Where would we be studying? His living room? His dining room? His bedroom? What does his bedroom look like? Does he have pictures of Sonny everywhere? Were we only going to talk about calculus?
I realized that this could be the first time that I was going to be completely alone with a guy that I was truly crushing on. Don’t get me wrong, I had been on a date or two. I wasn’t completely deprived of boy-girl contact. I had a boyfriend in ninth grade. During freshmen year, there was a guy named Josh who was very cute and funny. We started dating, and then we broke up like two weeks later. It was completely PG-13. We only kissed on the lips once. So, I never actually really kissed someone before. My mom would say that making out with boys was not lady-like. She would say that sticking a tongue down a boy’s throat was vulgar and kisses should be polite and sweet. I got what she was saying. Whenever I would see make out scenes in movies or Phoebe making out with one of her boy toys, it kind of grossed me out. It seemed sloppy and like it would be awkward. I was curious to know how Tristen kissed though. I wondered if he was gentle. He was different than all of the other horny jocks that ran around school trying to be with every cute girl they saw. When he hung out with Sonny and the clique, you could tell being popular wasn’t his life. He didn’t strive to be part of the clique like everyone else did. Sonny’s Minions and all of the other wannabes tried desperately to be a part of the popular crowd. But not Tristen. He had a presence about him that seemed humbling, down-to-earth. It was nice. I knew I ran the risk of getting to know him, and him being the complete opposite of my expectations. Let’s face it, he was dating Perfect Sonny, he was popular, and he was a jock. They can’t all be that bad though, right?
Chapter 2
The Request
The lunch bell rang, breaking me out of my thoughts of Tristen. I grabbed my lunch out of my locker and went to meet Phoebe in the courtyard at our usual table. I walked outside into the breezeway, breathing in the fresh air. It was a gorgeous fall day. Middleton High School was a very small, one-story facility. It was shaped like a U, with the cafeteria and courtyard in the middle. Phoebe and I always chose to sit outside on days like these to enjoy the weather this time of year. When I reached our table, she was flirting with a short, googly-eyed sophomore.
“So, if you can just do that for me, that would be amazeballs,” she said as she grazed his hand with her finger tips and batted her eyes.
“Uh…no problem. I will…uh…slip it into your locker tomorrow morning before class,” he said nervously. As he got up and walked away, I gave her a look.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“What is that poor little sophomore doing for you, Phoebe?”
“Oh Grace, don’t judge me. He’s going to do my paper for me,” she shrugged.
“Phoebe,” I said with a tone to let her know that I was a tad bit disappointed. “Why? You are so good at writing.”
“I know. It’s just that I have to work tonight.”
“I thought you were off?”
“Well, I decided to work… because I need the money.” She was so sure about her lie, but I could see straight through it.
“You mean, you need to work with that guy. Phoebe, just because he’s cute does not mean that you can slack off at school. You know we are finishing up our college applications next week.”
“I know, I know. It’ll be fine. So, what did Mom make you today? Whatever it is, I want some. I am so hungry and they are serving mystery burgers in the cafeteria. Blah,” she squinched her nose as if she smelled something terrible.
“Yeah, here you can have half my roast beef.” I tore a piece off and gave it to her, although deep down it was killing me. I was so hungry, as I always was at this time of the day.
“Why does your mom make so much lunch for you?” she asked, biting into the juicy roast beef sandwich. “I mean, you’re like a toothpick. I never understood where it all goes.”
“I don’t know,” I responded with a mouth full. “You know I always eat a lot. Mom says I have always been like this. I just love food. It’s like, the greatest invention,” I giggled. And it was true. To me, food was just heaven. I woke up looking forward to eating. It doesn’t just fill me up or satisfy my hunger. It made me feel…good. I was always full of energy after I ate. Sometimes, I even thought it would make me physically look better. Mom would just say it’s because of all the energy I felt after I ate, kind of like when you get a good night’s sleep. But sometimes I could swear that I would look in the mirror after a good meal and see my face glowing. Food and I, we had a special relationship.
“So, Phoebe,” I said before I took my next bite. “Tristen was at my locker last period.”
“Hey Grace,” Carmen greeted as she walked by.
“Oh hey Carmen,” I smiled back.
“You’re shitting me,” Phoebe whispered loudly as she leaned closer to me from across the table. “What did he want?”
I took another bite and quickly chewed and swallowed before I answered. “He wants me to tutor him. He wants me to meet him Thursday at my locker so that we can go study.” Wow, it really sank in right when I said that out loud. I almost couldn’t swallow.
“Are you kidding me? Well, so, are you going?”
“Of course I’m going,” I practically yelled. I looked around to make sure no one else was listening. I really did not want anyone else to know. No one really knew how much I liked Tristen except Phoebe and my mother. I didn’t want to be known as that girl in school who had no life because she fantasized about the popular boy. Not to mention, I didn’t want Sonny finding out. God only knew how much harder she would make my life. I’m sure she would get every chance she got to rub their relationship in my face.
“Phoebe, I can’t not go. I mean, he needs my help. I’m going to help him learn calculus.” I couldn’t believe my own lie much less think Phoebe believed it.
“G, you know you are freaking out right now about what you’re going to wear and what’s going to happen. It’s fine. I’ll dress you.” She gave me a matter-of-fact look.
“What? No, you are most certainly not dressing me. I don’t want to look like a hooker,” I said trying to make it sound like a joke when really I was being serious. Phoebe didn’t look like a prostitute per se; she just chose to wear clothing that revealed her belly ring and exceptionally large boobs. She had a great body, don’t get me wrong. She was very curvaceous and proportioned well. It’s just that her boobs were bigger than they should have been for her size, and she knew it… And she loved it… And so did every other guy in school. “I will figure out what to wear.”
“Okay,” she said as if to warn me. “Just remember that guys cannot resist a girl who shows a little tummy and cleavage. At least wear a little bit of makeup for me,” she pouted.
“No, guys like it when you show a little tummy and cleavage. You know I don’t feel comfortable like that.” And it was true, I really didn’t. My mom never had to worry about me leaving the house with not enough clothing on. I always felt extremely awkward in midriffs and hiked up skirts. Not that I was ashamed of my body, well of course except my boobs. I was thin, with a natural olive complexion, and had somewhat of a curvy figure. And I certainly did not judge Phoebe for dressing the way she did. If you had it, flaunt it. I would just prefer to dress to comfort, which meant jeans and a t-shirt to me. However, I would dress up when the occasion called for it. I wasn’t sure if this was the occasion. Studying calculus did not exactly scream miniskirt and a halter top. Then again, everything changes when it’s studying calculus with the hottest guy in school.
The next three periods seemed way too long. My day was completely complicated by my earlier encounter with Tristen. Although it should have been a totally amazing day, my date with him on Thursday had me a little worried. I worried that I wouldn�
�t know what else to talk about besides calculus. I was not normally shy, but when it came to Tristen, I forgot the whole concept of words and how to use them. I was also worried about Sonny. For some strange reason, Sonny had chosen to hate my whole existence. I never understood exactly why she chose me to crucify, but she had this unnatural desire to treat me as if I were scum on her bathroom walls. Well, I was sure she didn’t have scum on her
rich walls, but something along those lines. I had known Sonny as long as I had known Phoebe, since elementary school, and she had never liked me. To be honest, I guess I felt the same way. The only difference was that I disliked her because of how she treated me. She just disliked me for no apparent reason. I knew she was fuming about Tristen asking me for help, and I worried that she would scheme to make my life a living hell for doing it. Or worse, she could show up. I guess I should just be prepared because I cannot let Thursday not happen. I would be a total idiot.
School was only about four blocks away from home. When I first started Middleton High, Mom offered to drive me, but I chose to walk with Phoebe every morning and afternoon. Over the past few months, since Phoebe got her job at the mall, she had been leaving school to go straight there on most of the days, so I had been walking alone. It didn’t bother me much, though. I enjoyed walking. Being outside was one of my favorite things to do. The scent of the sun on my clothes, the smell of the trees and feeling of fresh air making its way into my lungs exhilarated me. It made me feel alive and happy to be alive. My senses always seemed heightened, and I swore I could smell a flowerbed that was a mile away. Anytime I would try to express how nature made me feel, I would just get lost in the words. My mom would just smile and Phoebe would say I was weird. So, I learned to keep my love for nature to myself and enjoy it quietly.
I got home at my usual three o’clock time. When I walked up the driveway, I was surprised to see my mom home early from work.
“Hey Mom!” I yelled as I opened the front door.
