YOUR SECRET ADMIRER

by Richard Laymon

  Saturday, Susan had telephoned. “Mike told me what went on,” she’d said.

  “Oh?” Janice waited nervously.

  “About your meeting of minds.” She laughed. “Boy, was I glad to hear that. I thought maybe you’d fallen for el creepo.”

  “You did?” Janice made herself laugh.

  “In fact, it has crossed my mind that he’s your phantom letter writer. That’s pretty silly, though. One, he can’t spell. Two, he can’t punctuate. Three, it’s not his style. He wouldn’t write a letter, he’d come right out and make a play for you—which is just what I thought he was doing last night.”

  “You’ve got a wild imagination,” Janice said.

  Had he been making a play for her? All weekend, she wondered about that. Wondered and hoped.

  The bell rang, ending class. She snapped the latches of her clarinet case and went to Mr. Chambers’ desk.

  “Young lady,” he said, “I believe you have been misplaced.”

  She tried to keep her sudden worry from showing.

  “You’re far too good for Intermediate Band. I have already talked to your counselor. If you’re agreeable to the change, we’ll transfer you to Senior Band. That’s sixth period. It also means staying late, Monday through Thursday during the football season, for marching practice. How does that sound to you?”

  “Wow!”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  “I sure will!”

  “We’ll change your English to period one, so your teacher will still be Miss O’Brien.”

  “Great.”

  He scribbled on a Referral form, and handed it to her. “Go see Mrs. Evers now, and she’ll take care of your schedule change. See you period six.”

  During lunch, Mike stopped beside her in the cafeteria line. “How is your head?” he asked.

  “The bump went down, but I’ve got kind of a scab.”

  “Yeah, me, too. You have an awfully hard head.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  “Anything more from the secret admirer?”

  “Not yet.”

  Mike looked disappointed. “Well, if you hear from him, be sure to let me know.”

  “I will. Do you want anything in line?” she asked, suddenly hoping that he would eat lunch with her.

  “Thanks, but I have to get over to a meeting. See you later, Janice.”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  Disappointed, she watched him walk away.

  The band practiced inside during sixth period. From the start, Janice was nervous: all around her sat juniors and seniors. The only other sophomore she recognized was Waldo Gass, a trombone player she had known in junior high and couldn’t stand. The other players in the woodwind section acted friendly, so she didn’t stay nervous for long.

  When the bell rang ending school, Mr. Chambers passed out the formation sheets for the first halftime routine. “Look for your name on the top sheet,” he said. “The number to the right of your name is your designation.”

  Janice found B6 beside her name. She stopped listening to Mr. Chambers, and flipped to the next page. The first formation looked senseless, like one of those “connect the numbers” drawings she used to do when she was a kid. In her imagination, she connected the numbers. Apparently, the formation was supposed to be a football. She spent a long time searching, and finally located B6—part of the lacing.

  Her groan caught the attention of the girl beside her, Marilyn something.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Marilyn told her.

  “It looks impossible.”

  “Just stick with me. I’m B5. You’ll be next to me the whole time.”

  “Thank heavens,” Janice muttered.

  “Leave your instruments here for the time being,” Mr. Chambers announced. “Your hands will be full enough the next few days, just trying to march.” Some of the band members laughed. Janice didn’t see the humor.

  Mr. Chambers led them outside. Janice stayed close to Marilyn. “How long have you been in the marching band?” she asked.

  “This will be my third season.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s the greatest. I mean, you go to all the games. And you only play the first half, you know. After halftime, you ditch your instrument and sit with your friends.”

  “That does sound…”

  “Hey, sweetheart!”

  Janice and Marilyn looked around at the overweight boy rushing towards them from behind. He jiggled with each step, as if his excess flesh was loosely connected and might shake off. His curly hair looked oily, and his clothes were wrinkled.

  “Hey, sweetheart!” he repeated.

  “I think he means you,” said Marilyn.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you,” the boy said, grinning. “What’s your name?”

  “Janice.”

  “I’m Glen. What are you, a sophomore?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m a senior. Know how old I am?”

  “Seventeen?”

  “I’m twenty.” He followed her outside. “Got held back three times. That’s not ‘cause I’m dumb. I’ve got more smarts than ten normal guys put together. It’s ‘cause I was sick a lot.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, it ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me sweetheart.”

  “Okay, sugar face.” He giggled.

  “Not that, either.”

  “Honey.”

  “Don’t call me anything but Janice, okay?”

  “Leave her alone, Glen.”

  “Shut up, Marilyn. Who asked you? Me and sweetheart, we’re gonna be good friends. Right?”

  On the late bus heading home, Glen sat next to Janice. She turned her face to the window.

  “You’re a snob,” he said.

  She kept looking away, but she could feel her skin getting hot.

  “Hey. You’re a snob.”

  “Then don’t sit here.”

  “I like sitting here. I got a right to sit here. It’s a free country.”

  “You don’t have any right to be rude,” she told him. “You were a real jerk at band practice, and you’re even worse now.”

  “You’ve really got a mouth.”

  “Why don’t you just go away?”

  “You’re real pretty. I like it here.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Who cares?” he asked.

  “Me.”

  “Tough toenails.”

  Janice glared at him. The bus was just leaving the front of the school. It wouldn’t be reaching her stop for ten minutes. Maybe she ought to get out and walk. No, Glen might walk with her.

  “I bet you haven’t got a boyfriend,” he said.

  She didn’t answer.

  Glen’s elbow jabbed her side. “You don’t, do you?”

  “You’ll see,” she said.

  Glen laughed. “What’re you gonna do, tell him to beat me up? Go ahead. See if I care. I’ll take him apart, piece by piece.”

  “You’re really vile,” Janice said.

  “Vile? No kidding?”

  “You’re disgusting and repulsive.”

  “Who, me? Bet you haven’t got a boyfriend. You’re just saying you’ve got one, so you won’t have to go out with me.”

  “Go out with you?”

  “Sure. To the movies Friday night.”

  “Are you asking me for a date?”

  “Sure. How about it?”

  “No, thank you.” Peering out the window, she saw Wilson’s Pharmacy. Wilson’s was only two blocks from school. Getting home would take forever, at this rate.

  “What’ve you got against me?” He sounded angry.

  “I already told you.”

  “Tell me again.”

  “You’re nasty and vulgar.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked, and laughed.

  “Besides,” she said, “you’re too old for me.”

  “How
old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “So what’s three years?”

  “You said you were twenty.”

  “So I lied. Sue me.”

  “You’re really eighteen, then?”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s still too old.”

  “I’m not old, I’m mature.”

  “That’s a laugh,” Janice said.

  “You’re mature, too, for a kid. That’s how come I’ll let you go out with me.”

  Janice sighed, and looked out the window as the bus stopped at a corner. She saw the movie theater halfway down the next block. The halfway mark. She only had to put up with Glen for five more minutes, unless his stop came before hers. “When do you get off?” she asked.

  “When I feel like it.”

  “Great.”

  “So,” he said, “how about it?”

  “How about what?”

  “Friday night. You and me.”

  “I already told you no.”

  “No’s no good.”

  “I said no, and I meant no.”

  “But you’ve gotta say yes,” he insisted.

  “No I don’t.”

  “Sure you do. Unless you want to get yourself hurt.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dear Janice,

  I’ve been watching you.

  What did you think of the movies Friday night? I thought the vampire movie stank. I enjoyed The Dead Walk at Midnight, however. Did you? I saw you jump. I only wish I could have been sitting next to you. I would have held your hand at the scary parts.

  The boy who sat with you and Susan is nice. He is not for you, however. I am for you.

  I followed you after the movie. You should not have gone into the park. Don’t you know how dangerous the park is? I think you only went in because of Susan. Though she is your best friend, she can be headstrong and foolish. Don’t let her push you into doing things against your better sense. That way leads to danger.

  Did you see me following you? I don’t think so. I stayed in back of Mike, who also seemed to be on your trail. I know you saw him, but you did not see me. I am too careful for that. I come and go without a trace.

  I followed you all the way home and I saw you and Mike at the door. It pained me to see your heads hit. For a moment, fearing for your safety, I almost revealed myself.

  Mike likes you, I can tell. He is not for you, however. I am for you.

  Congratulations on your promotion to the marching band. It is about time that Mr. Chambers finally recognized your musical talent. Don’t worry about your marching. It wasn’t that bad. Once you catch on, I’m sure that you will do fine.

  Now, about the gross boy who sat beside you on the bus Monday. Though I was not able to hear the conversation, I could see from your expression that he was upsetting you.

  Don’t let him frighten you, Janice. He is only a bully. Bullies talk big. At heart, however, they are only cowards. If he bothers you further, I will deal with him.

  As you can see, I am keeping a close eye on you. There is nothing in the world more pleasing to me. I only wish that I could reveal my identity to you. For the present, that is impossible. I shall, however, remain your ardent and loving admirer from afar.

  With all my heart,

  Your Secret Admirer

  Janice watched Mike read the letter. When he finished, he handed it back to her.

  “No wonder you didn’t want Susan to see it—‘headstrong and foolish.’ It’s true enough, but she wouldn’t enjoy reading about it.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Janice said. That’s why she had telephoned Mike and asked to meet him at the public library. They were sitting at a long table in the Periodicals Room. A dozen other people were also in the room, mostly looking through magazines and newspapers.

  “The guy sure gets around, doesn’t he?” Mike smiled, but he looked worried.

  “Everything I do, he knows about. Except for when I’m home. He doesn’t watch me there.”

  “He’s not writing about it, anyway.”

  Janice groaned. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

  “The guy has to be watching your house. I mean, he knows when you come and go. He follows you everywhere.”

  “It’s kind of spooky,” she admitted. “You don’t think he might do something to hurt me, do you?”

  “I don’t know. Look what he says about Freddy.” Mike read from the letter. “ ‘He is not for you, however. I am for you.’”

  “It says the same about you, Mike.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t like it. It’s a threat. And it sounds like he means to have you for himself. I think the guy’s loony.” Mike scanned the room. “He might be here, right now. Do you see anyone familiar?”

  “Other than you?” Janice asked.

  Mike shook his head. “It’s not me.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Was I on the bus yesterday when the ‘gross boy’ was bothering you?”

  “I didn’t see you.”

  “Because I wasn’t there.”

  Janice grinned. “Someone might’ve told you about it.”

  “Hey, who was the kid that bothered you?”

  “Glen something.”

  “Glen Rastick?”

  “I don’t know his last name.”

  “A jerky guy with pimples and a big mouth?” Mike asked.

  “And black curly hair.”

  “That’s Glen.” Mike looked worried. “What did he want?”

  “A date.”

  “That figures. What did you tell him?”

  “I said no thanks.”

  “How did he take it?”

  Janice shrugged one shoulder, trying to look casual. “He said if I didn’t go out with him, I’d get hurt.”

  Mike looked furious. “When? Yesterday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you see him today?”

  “He was absent, I guess. He wasn’t at band or on the bus.”

  “That guy has gone just about far enough. Look, let me know if he bothers you again. He’ll wish he hadn’t.”

  Janice frowned at the letter in front of her. “You don’t suppose he could be my secret admirer, do you?”

  “Glen? Not a chance. I was in English with him last year. He’s lucky if he can spell his name.”

  “He could have someone write them for him,” Janice suggested.

  “I guess that’s possible. Sure. If he’s your admirer, though, you’re in worse trouble than I thought. You don’t want a guy like that hung up on you. He’s really a…”

  Mike’s eyes suddenly fixed on something behind Janice. For an instant, he looked sick. Then he made a big smile, and said, “How’s it going?”

  Janice looked over her shoulder.

  First, she saw the half-buttoned plaid blouse. Then she saw the phony smile on Brita Kramer’s face.

  “I thought I’d never find you,” she said to Mike. She didn’t even glance at Janice.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  She smiled coyly. “Oh, I have my ways.”

  “Brita, do you know Janice?”

  She looked down at Janice and showed her teeth. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You don’t go to Webster High, do you?”

  “I’m a sophomore, same as you.”

  “Oh? You look young for a sophomore. I would have guessed, just looking, that you might be a ninth grader.”

  “That was last year in junior high,” Janice said.

  Mike laughed nervously.

  “You must be one of those terribly bright people who skipped a grade or two.”

  “I’m fifteen,” Janice explained. “Just like you.”

  “Oh?” Brita turned to Mike. “Is she a good friend of yours?”

  Under the table, Janice gripped her knees tightly as she waited for his answer.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I see.” Brita glared at Janice, but kept smirking. “Would you excuse us for a minute?”

  Ja
nice frowned with confusion. “What?”

  “I mean bug off.”

  “Brita!” Mike snapped.

  The librarian, a young man in a corduroy jacket, approached their table. “Hold it down a bit, okay?”

  Mike smiled up at him, blushing. “Sorry,” he whispered. Then, to Janice, he said, “Excuse me for a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” She watched him get up from the chair. His lips were pressed tightly together. His eyes had a hard, angry look. He stepped around the end of the table.

  Brita kept her smart-aleck smile, but her eyes showed doubt.

  Mike took her arm, and they quickly walked out of the Periodicals Room. They weren’t speaking. Through the glass door, Janice saw them turn towards the stairway. They must be going up to the stacks, she realized. The stacks were usually pretty deserted this time of night, so they could argue without disturbing anyone.

  Janice reread her letter. That only took one minute.

  She checked the clock: 8:18.

  She looked towards the glass doors. No, Mike wouldn’t finish this quickly. It should take at least five minutes. Then he would come back for her, alone, and explain that he had broken up with Brita.

  Her eyes turned to the clock. Still 8:18. Not even a minute had passed.

  Getting up from the table, she crossed the carpeted room to the magazine shelves. She took down a copy of Teen Life. She flipped through its pages, glancing at each, looking for an item that might hold her interest and help the minutes pass. She stopped at a column called, “In the Stars.” A horoscope. Her eyes quickly searched out her sign, Capricorn.

  “Let caution be your watchword during the month. You have charted a course that may prove dangerous to yourself and loved ones. Think twice before you act.”

  Janice frowned. She didn’t like that one, at all.

  She read Mike’s sign, Aries.

  “The choice you must make will not be easy. Either way you decide, feelings will be hurt. Follow the urge of your heart, and you will not be sorry.”

  “Oh, boy,” Janice muttered.

  She wished she knew Brita’s sign.

  She looked at the clock. Only two more minutes had passed. Glancing through the glass doors, she didn’t see Mike, so she started turning pages again. She read an ad for avocado shampoo. Yuck.