Before The Boys Say No Part 12

Brody raised his eyebrows and looked between us curiously. I gave him a discreet wave and turned my attention back to Ms. McEnroy.

I knew cla.s.s would be long. I half dreaded having to talk with Michael, but at least I had broken the ice. I waited until he had put his book in his backpack before I said anything to him.

"If it's not a good time right now--" I started, but he cut me off.

"No, it's great. I like to talk about running," he said.

I walked with him out of cla.s.s, barely listening to his chatter about running when I caught Brody's eye. He inclined his head toward Michael with a silent question if we were together. I shrugged and gave him a smile.

I walked Michael to his cla.s.s, nodding my head to the advice he dished out on running. Honestly, I had no idea what he was saying. I was just concentrating on not tripping over something or making a fool of myself in front of him.

We stopped outside his next cla.s.s. He looked me fully in the face for the first time. "Wow, you have nice eyes," he said.

"Oh, thanks," I murmured, feeling like a fake.

"Why don't you meet me at the track after school? It's a short run for me today."

"Umm, yeah, I was planning on being there. It's just that, I'm only at a mile right now."

"That's right," he said, "I remember that now."

"Maybe I can wait for you after your run so you can talk with me some more?" I offered.

"Yeah, that'd work out," he said. "We could do that."

I headed off to my cla.s.s, just barely making it on time. This dating thing seemed to be a time sucker, and I had only begun.

By the time I made it to debate cla.s.s, my mind was so worked up playing scenarios about meeting Michael after school that I snapped at Jared as soon as he sat down. I had to immediately apologize. I had not been attentive to debate as I had always been in the past. We had traveled to two other tournaments, and yeah, I won as usual, but my mind wasn't all there.

Mr. Robarb was preparing us for the next tournament which was happening in a couple of weeks. I could tell Jared was getting bored with the whole debate thing. He was obedient and read everything I put in front of him, but his mind was someplace else too. Even after I had taken him to the thrift store to help him pick out a suit. For the record, Jared chose to shop at the thrift store, not me. He picked out a suit that looked like one my Uncle Ernie wore in the seventies. I tried to put my foot down, but he refused to budge. He thought the suit was cool. Oh, we drew a few looks at the debate tournaments alright.

I had decided to go out to shop for a new suit myself. I thought it would help me get back into the heart and soul of debate. Mom couldn't believe I had dropped a suit size. She gave my arm an excited squeeze when we paid for a smaller sized gray suit. I admit when I'm wrong. There is a benefit to running--it's making my b.u.t.t smaller. Not much, but enough to give me a little more confidence.

"You should take wood working with me next semester," Jared said out of the blue.

I looked up to see his grinning face turned around in his seat. My mind was focused on trying to work an argument around a piece of evidence that would destroy my debate proposition. I looked at him like he was crazy.

"Seriously, Jared? Where, in my world, does wood working fit?"

"It's a good skill to know."

I rolled my eyes and lowered my head over the material in front of me. Jared tapped his pencil on top of my head. I was going to smack the skinny kid if he didn't leave me alone.

"I don't want to know wood working, Jared. I don't care about wood. Hammers and saws and anything sharp scares me. Wood working cla.s.s would be my worst nightmare. Okay?"

Jared's face screwed up with disappointment. "I just thought it would be fun."

"No," I said, "it wouldn't be fun."

"Say, do you think Sue Nelly would go to Winter Formal with me?"

I blinked hard, trying to catch up with Jared's scattered thoughts. "Sue Nelly?"

"Yeah," he whispered, looking behind me.

I turned to look at Sue. She was a bit plain and quiet, but even she had laughed at Jared when everyone had first met him. Maybe she would be desperate enough for a date to Winter Formal that she would say yes to Jared.

"Go for it," I said.

"Really? How do I go for it?"

He was asking someone who had no experience in that area. Jared seemed to think I was some kind of expert in almost everything just because I was good at debate.

"How do you normally ask a girl out?" I asked.

"I don't know," he mumbled, scratching at a pimple on his cheek. "Hey, you want to go out?"

"There you go then," I replied, wis.h.i.+ng this conversation would be over quickly.

"What if she says no?" he whispered fearfully.

"What if she says yes?" I countered.

"You're so smart, Beatrice," he said. "I'm going for it. I'm gonna ask her right after cla.s.s."

By the time cla.s.s was over, Jared was sweating so much I could smell his body odor from my seat. I was just about ready to lean over and whisper to him to put on some deodorant before asking Sue Nelly to the Winter Formal when she walked by. Jared jumped up from his seat, his eyes wildly looking around from nerves.

"Hey, Sue," he said loudly. He got the attention of everyone in the cla.s.sroom. "Do you want to go to Winter Formal with me?"

It's kind of like a car crash going to happen, you know? It all seemed to be in slow motion and I wanted to reach out and save him from the a.s.sured humiliation of asking her in front of everyone, but I was too late. Didn't he know he should wait to ask her in private so that he wouldn't have to suffer the embarra.s.sment of rejection? I grabbed my head in my hands and held my breath. Just get it over with, Sue. Put him out of his misery.

"Sure, Jared," she said with a little giggle.

What? She said yes? To skinny, smelly Jared? I raised my head in shock and looked at her. Jared was in shock, too, and didn't know what else to say. Sue's face was flushed, but I could tell she was excited.

"Great," Jared stuttered. "You want to have lunch with me?"

She nodded and they walked out of the cla.s.sroom together. There were a few expected snickers when they left, but for the most part, everyone seemed fine with Jared asking Sue to the dance.

I walked out of debate cla.s.s and almost b.u.mped into Brody. "Brody, hi."

"Hey, Bea. Thought I'd check on you." That was weird and unexpected.

"I'm fine," I said slowly. "Are you okay?"

Brody laughed. "Yeah. I just wanted to talk with you. Winter Formal's coming up, and since I've never been to one before--"

"Oh, you want to know what to expect?" I interrupted. "Well, the guys wear suits and the girls formal dresses. It's usually held in the gym and decorated with snowflakes and winter stuff. Ask Lanie. She knows all about it."

"Well, that's the thing--"

"Brody!" Lanie's voice called.

My shoulders slumped. I was so sick of hearing her voice calling Brody's name. Especially when I was talking with him. She'd get mad and figure out a way to get even. Couldn't Brody see that he was making my life miserable by being nice to me?

Brody knew the drill. He sighed and turned to face her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. Was it my imagination, or did Brody seem reluctant to follow her? He cast a look at me over his shoulder and winked.

I hurried to the lunch table to meet up with Johanna. She would be proud of my courage in talking with Michael. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn't believe it, but Bradley Jones was standing beside her, his eyes intently watching her as she talked. I lingered at the other end of the courtyard as they talked. I didn't want to mess things up for her.

Out of the blue, I caught sight of Lanie and Brody making their way to the table. Brodie never ate lunch with Lanie, so I was surprised to see him. They stopped at the table, talking with Bradley and Johanna for a few minutes before leaving.

Bradley took a seat beside Johanna so I knew he was staying for lunch. I hated eating alone and was about to go hide out in the bathroom again when I heard my name called. By a guy. It was Michael Walters sitting just a couple of tables over. He waved to me when I made eye contact with him.

I squeezed through the tables, trying to look skinnier than I was. "Hey, Michael," I said with a smile, trying to ignore the looks from other runners at the table.

"You want to talk some more about running over lunch?" he offered, scooting over to make room for me.

My heart started racing. All I had to do was make it to the other side of the table without making myself look like an idiot. Someone stuck out a running shoe--large and blue to be precise--and I felt myself falling forward. My chin hit the edge of the table and I bit my tongue as I tumbled to the ground. So much for looking graceful. My head felt like it had been jolted and my chin started throbbing. I blinked hard to stop the tears from coming as I raised myself clumsily to my feet.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked with concern.

The guy wearing the large blue running shoes burst out laughing. "Sorry about that. I didn't think you'd really trip. Man, you took a dive! I wish I would've had my camera."

I took what little dignity I had left and limped over to Michael and plopped down. Normally, I would have laid into the guy, but with a date for Winter Formal at risk, I bit my tongue. Again. I felt the taste of blood in my mouth and reminded myself that all the sacrifices I made would be worth it at the end.

I had no idea what Michael talked about at lunch. I do remember him looking at my slice of pizza I had brought and talking about eating healthier for performance. I can only a.s.sume he was talking about the rabbit food on his plate with a bowl of beans beside it. I can't eat beans. Not unless I'm going to be on a deserted island all the next day. My stomach doesn't like them and disposes of them in a--let's just say the smell isn't worth the effort.

By the time Michael got on the subject of running shoes, all the runners at the table were piping in with their own advice. I nodded my head like I was interested, but it only made my headache worsen.

I actually felt happy to leave the land of happy trail runners and tree huggers when the bell rang. Someone said I should put ice on my chin so I gingerly touched it and wished I was still blissfully unaware of the large b.u.mp that had formed from my fall.

I went to the school nurse for an excuse to go home. She was pretty cool about it. If it hadn't been for my chin, I think she would have denied me permission. But soon enough, I was in my Beetle and speeding home to recover. Tomorrow was a new day. That would mean running on the track. I wanted to eat another slice of pizza instead.

CHAPTER 10.

Four weeks till Winter Formal. According to Johanna's calculations, Michael should be asking me this week. I felt nervous around him, waiting for the question to pop. I had spent all my time preparing for this--sitting beside him in cla.s.s, at lunch, and meeting him on the track for running pointers. I had progressed to running two miles and Michael encouraged me all the way, calling me his protege.

Johanna and Bradley had started seeing each other the day she had talked with him. They were inseparable. Even she was surprised at how well her formula had worked. He hadn't asked her to Winter Formal yet, but it was only a matter of time.

The day arrived that I felt sure Michael was going to ask me. I wore my black yoga pants with the pink stripes on the sides. It was really cold outside, but I suffered it to wear the matching jacket in an effort to look cute. I pulled my hair up in the high ponytail like the other runners--girls anyway--wore.

Today, I was going to push myself. Two and a half miles was my goal. I made sure Michael arrived before I started my run. He waved to me when he got to the track and watched me as he stretched with a couple of other runners.

I started off faster than I should have. In my attempt to impress him, my lungs started burning after just half a mile. I slowed down, glancing at him to see if he had noticed. He was still watching me but I couldn't make out his expression. I wanted to flop on the ground and gasp for air by the time I had run a mile. Thankfully, Michael had started jogging with his friends. I took advantage of him being in front of me and walked while he couldn't see me.

It helped me catch my breath, but as soon as he rounded the corner of the track, I started jogging again. He ran past me and yelled some encouraging words to me. I stopped to walk for the few seconds he was in front of me. He was fast and increasing his pace, so my walk breaks were becoming shorter and shorter with each round.

After two miles, I couldn't run any longer. I stopped on the side of the track and started stretching like I had watched other runners do. Soon, Michael's legs came pounding around the track.

"Quitting already?" he yelled at me.

"Nope," I shouted. "Just getting ready for mile three."

He raised his thumb in the air and ran past. I dreaded it, but I had to run some more. I ran my snail's pace this time. I tried to walk anytime I thought Michael couldn't see me. Pretty soon, I had gone three miles. My legs felt heavy. I knew I was going to pay for that run tomorrow. A date to Winter Formal would make it all worth it.

I sat in the bleachers to wait for Michael. He always stopped to give me pointers. It wasn't long before he was striding toward me, his s.h.i.+rt soaked with sweat.

"New personal record," he shouted excitedly. "Seven miles averaging just under six minutes a mile."

"Cool," I said. I still didn't understand all the excitement over running fast. But I pretended to be as giddy as he was.

Michael leaned down to tighten his shoe. He raised up and looked out over the track, twisting his torso until his back cracked.

"Wow, can you believe Winter Formal is less than a month away?" he asked quietly.

This was the moment I had worked so hard for. I heard a giggle escape from my mouth. "I know. Isn't it exciting?"

"Who are you going with?" he asked, turning to face me.

The question took me off guard. Maybe he was just fis.h.i.+ng to find out if I already had a date. I shrugged my shoulders, looking at him expectantly.

"I'm trying to decide if I should ask Gayle or Chloe. I mean, they're both hot--"

Blood rushed into my face and I couldn't hear anything else he said. All these weeks of ma.s.sive torture to try to get him to ask me out. All that endless b.o.o.b bouncing to try to impress him by running. And those freaky blue contacts that I still had problems putting in my eyes each morning.

He was still talking when I got up and walked away, well, more like limped away. I didn't care what Michael Walters had to say any longer. I heard his voice trail off and he called my name. I just kept walking till I made it to my car and slid in. I couldn't even cry. Truth is, I was sick of talking about running and eating and personal records that I didn't understand or care about. It wouldn't have lasted beyond Winter Formal for Michael and myself, even if he had asked me to go with him.

I felt strangely calm when I got to the restaurant. I wasn't even scheduled to work, but I needed a refuge. Aunt Roma gave me an odd look when I walked in, but she didn't say a word. Dean didn't realize I wasn't scheduled and immediately started barking orders at me. I floated through the evening without even raising my voice to customers. It wasn't until the next day that cold, hard reality came cras.h.i.+ng into my world.

I was one of the first to arrive at English cla.s.s so I took my seat in the back to be away from everyone. Kids started eventually coming in, including Michael. He threw me a curious look, but didn't say anything. He just took his regular seat with his friends. I don't think he even noticed that my eyes were back to my normal color. No more crazy blue pieces of plastic to try to jab into the center of my eyes at five o'clock in the morning.

Then Brody came into the cla.s.sroom. Or should I say, he hobbled on crutches into the cla.s.sroom. He had a cast on his foot. I didn't even know he had been hurt. It must have happened at practice because they didn't have a game. His friends and the girls seated around him started fawning all over him. I think it took a full twenty minutes before Ms. McEnroy was finally able to get the cla.s.s's attention.

As soon as English was over, I saw Lanie run into the room to help him. Brody laughed, trying to tell everyone to leave him alone. Somehow, that made him even cuter. I leaned over in my seat to pretend I was tying my shoe until Lanie led Brody out of the room.

By the time I made it to debate cla.s.s, news of Brody's injury had circulated throughout the school. Poor Brody. He had broken his ankle during practice. No one knew how many games he would have to sit out. I was pretty much sick of hearing his name as I slid into the seat behind Jared. Not that I was sick of Brody, but really--should news of his broken ankle receive that much attention?

Something smelled different in the debate room. I sniffed around, trying to figure it out. Then I hit Jared's shoulder. He smelled like cow manure.

"Jared, you smell like you took a walk in cow patties," I whispered over his shoulder.

"I had to milk the cows this morning before school," he said with a grin. He looked down at his boots. Sure enough, there was dried cow mature with bits of hay stuck to the bottom of one of them.