Adorkable (4 page)

“I better get going,” Becks said, setting the tray down, grabbing his bag off the floor. “See you later?”

“Probably.” I swallowed and forced a smile. “May the Force be with you.”

“You, too.”

Becks waved as he walked outside, and I waved back, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.

#

“Mom, have you seen my gloves?”

I’d looked all over my room, under the bed, the nightstand, even checked the bookcase. The search had started over an hour ago after I finished my homework. The Calc questions were always a breeze, but the reading had taken longer than usual—mainly because I’d kept replaying that talk with Becks. My hair took more time tonight. Despite what Becks had said, it wasn’t wavy. It was downright unmanageable most days. Sprinkled over my cheeks and the bridge of my nose, I’d made peace with my freckles over the years. But they weren’t cute; they were just
there
. Looking back on it, I should’ve known it was a joke from the get. I shouldn’t have spent so much time over thinking. Maybe then I wouldn’t be running late.

“Mom?” I said again, stepping into the kitchen.

“What gloves?” she asked, head down, looking at a layout of bills while she compared cloth swatches. The bride must’ve chosen orange and bright green for her wedding colors. I shuddered. My eyes hurt just looking at the mix.

“Um, the only gloves I own.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic. It wasn’t her fault the stupid things were missing. “The short yellow ones. Bright, stretchy, kinda cheap-looking.”

“Oh, those,” Mom said, discarding amber for vermillion, “Did you check the hamper?”

Jogging to the laundry room, I rifled through the basket of dirty clothes. “Not here, either.” I’d known it was a long shot. I hadn’t worn them out in a while—not since my X-men themed eleventh birthday party—and besides, I suspected the shoddy material wouldn’t hold up in the wash. Walking back, I muttered, “I could’ve sworn I laid them out last night on my dresser.”

“Did you look to make sure they weren’t on the floor somewhere?”

I nodded. “Yeah, even checked behind the headboard.” Sighing, I slid into the seat opposite her. “Guess I’ll just have to go without them. Hooker’s going to be disappointed. You know she goes all out for this stuff.”

“Don’t worry,” Mom said as she bound a few squares together. Looked like she was going with shamrock and orange peel with an accent of deep gold. Not bad, considering what she had to work with. “Lillian won’t—”

“Won’t what?” I mumbled, picking at the table as I waited for Mom to answer. When she didn’t, I looked up and caught her staring at me. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Sally...what happened to your hair?”

“Oh.” I instinctively raised a hand to my brown locks. “I just used some hot rollers and teased it a little. Put some baby powder on the front strand to look more Rogue-ish—Rogue circa the ‘90s cartoon series not major motion picture Rogue. Do you like it?”

“I’m not sure,” Mom said with a small frown. “It makes you look...older, somehow.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. Over the hill at seventeen. My life just kept getting better and better. Standing, I brushed the remaining wrinkles out of my black X-Men tee. The gloves would’ve completed the ensemble, but oh well. This would have to do. “Alright Mom, I’m gonna head out.”

Mom glanced at her watch. “But it’s not even eleven yet.”

“Hooker wanted to meet early to get good seats.”

“But what about the gloves?” Mom said, following me to the door. “Don’t you want to check again?”

“No, that’s okay.” I gave her a peck on the cheek. “Hooker will just have to deal. Love you, Mom.”

“But Sally, can’t you just wait...”

Before she could say more, I opened the door...and saw the boy with the sky blue Scion striding toward our house.

Through clenched teeth, I hissed, “Mom, tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” she said, but I wasn’t buying. Her smile was too bright, her manner too content, to be some innocent bystander. Then the truth, “Lillian did.”

“I told her no more dates.”

“She’s just trying to be a good friend, Sally. Who knows? He could be your soul mate.”

“If the first eight weren’t my soul mates, the odds aren’t in his favor,” I said. “Plus, I don’t want Hooker feeling like a third wheel.”

Mom’s look was shrewd. “And since when does Lillian go anywhere without a boy on her arm?”

She had a point, but...

“I’m not doing this.” I shook my head. “Not tonight.”

“Oh yes, you are,” Mom said, pushing me onto the porch as I tried to back away. “His name is Austin Harris. He’s a good boy, according to Lillian, and I promised I’d make sure you left together. Now—” She slipped something into my hand. “—go out and have some fun.”

The door slammed. Unbelievable. Mom had literally thrown me out of the house. As I heard the lock click into place, I looked at what she’d given me.

The yellow gloves. She must’ve taken them out of my room sometime this afternoon while I was at school.

My mom, the calculating mastermind.

The thought nearly made me grin, but by then Austin had made his way to the door.

“Hi,” he said smiling, reaching out a hand, “I’m Austin. I ran into Lillian at the bookstore, and I guess she thought—well, yeah.”

“Sally,” I said, shaking his hand. Austin had the body of a surfer/swim model with a face to match. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so nice. Boys who looked like Austin rarely were. But after eyeing him more closely, I noticed…was that a pocket protector? I’d thought those were a myth. And his dark blue tie, which he wore loose over a white, untucked button-down was actually imprinted with the Hogwarts seal. “You like Harry Potter?” I asked, nodding to it.

“Hell yeah,” he said enthusiastically. Then, like he’d caught himself, he said, “I mean, yeah. Harry Potter’s pretty cool. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

I grinned. “I wear my Gryffindor jersey at least once a week.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh. That’s good.” He looked relieved. “I thought I’d blown it in the first five minutes.”

“No, you’re doing fine,” I said then took a peek at my cell. If I wasn’t there in ten minutes, Hooker would be shooting lightning bolts out of her eyes. “Listen, Austin, I don’t know what my friend told you, but we’re meeting her at the movie theater. If I’m not there in about ten minutes, it’ll probably be sold out.”

“X-men, right?” Austin fished two tickets out of his pocket. “I already got them. Lillian sent me a text a couple of hours ago.”

“Wow.” I was honestly impressed. Hooker’s deviousness had suddenly reached an all-time high. “So, you won’t mind hanging out with the two of us?”

“Not if she’s as cool as you are.” He flushed a little but gestured in my direction. “I like your hair by the way.”

“Thanks,” I said.

And that’s how I ended up going to the movies with Austin Harris, a boy I barely knew, who’d already given me more compliments than any of my previous dating disasters combined, and was a surprisingly cautious driver.

Too cautious. He drove like a ninety-year-old man with cataracts. If he stopped at one more yellow, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

When we walked in, Hooker was propped up against the snack stand, tapping her foot impatiently, clad in full-out Storm paraphernalia. The white thigh-high boots she was wearing looked painted on, but that was nothing in comparison to the white Lycra bodysuit and cape. My favorite touch was the frosty bob wig she’d donned just for the occasion. Classic Hooker. She never did anything by halves.

Spotting me, she pushed off.

“Hey, Spitz,” she called, waving wildly. “Sally Sue Spitz, over here!”

I gave a smaller wave back and tried not to be embarrassed as every head turned my way.

The ticket taker stopped mid-tear. “Spitz?” he said and then smiled. “Great God Almighty, you must be Nick’s kid.”

I fought down my grimace and nodded.

“Well, how about that.” The guy’s nametag said Eddie, and he was dressed in a suit. I assumed he was the manager. “You look just like him you know.”

Actually, I thought I favored my mother, but whatever.

“Your dad’s a great man. He really helped us crack down on illegal activity here at Regal Cinemas.”

“Hmmm,” I said and tried not to roll my eyes. If selling popcorn and candy at such high prices wasn’t a crime, I didn’t know what was.

“You be sure to tell him Ed said hi, next time you see him.”

“Sure.” As I walked away, I added, “But you’ll probably see the jerk before I do.”

Though we lived in the same town, I didn’t see much of my dad. He was like one of those zits that popped up when you least expected it. A nasty surprise that made life hell until it cleared out. To most people, he was Nick Spitz, Chariot’s favorite cop. I knew him as the guy who’d gotten caught banging the babysitter—while I was in the other room watching cartoons. Mom filed for divorce the next day.

“Finally.” Hooker was hands on hips when I reached her, the timeless superhero pose. I didn’t even think she realized that she was doing it. After the talk about my dad, the sight made me smile. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show. Will’s up there saving our seats. What took you so…oh hey, Austin.”

Offering his hand, Austin said, “Hi again, Lillian, and thank you. Sally’s great.”

“And don’t you forget it, bucko.” Tugging me around, Hooker bent her head to mine and said, “So, what do you think?”

“He’s really nice,” I said. “I don’t appreciate you enlisting my mom’s help and springing him on me as I was leaving the house. But he seems okay.”

She scrunched her nose. “Just okay? That’s it?”

“Yeah, he’s actually not so bad.”

“Spitz, the guy’s wearing Chinos, and he tried to shake my hand.” She tugged at one end of her bob. “I found him bent over a book bigger than my head in the sci-fi/fantasy section at Barnes and Noble.”

That sounded suspicious. “And what were you doing in Barnes and Noble?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she laughed. “I was looking for the male version of you.”

I laughed despite myself.

“Glad you think it’s funny,” she said. “I always say it’s the polite ones you’ve got to watch out for. Also, please don’t kill me.”

“Kill you for what?” I said.

“Hey Lil, I see you found my date.” Turning my head, I caught Chaz Neely checking out my ass.

Hooker glared at Chaz while I glared at her. This couldn’t be happening.

“I told you not to call her that,” she said.

Chaz held up both hands. “Sorry, man, I forgot.” To me, he said, “Love the hair by the way. It really gives you something, almost makes you look hot.”

I glared harder as Hooker slammed a palm against her forehead.

“She’s actually
my
date and she’s already hot,” Austin said a little red in the face. “Don’t listen to him, Sally. You’re definitely hotter than most, if not one of the hottest girls around.”

As much as I enjoyed hearing Austin defend my level of hotness, I was ready to end this conversation and go watch the movie. I didn’t think Hooker could top the Daisy fiasco, but it was no contest. This was officially my most uncomfortable date ever.

“Shall we? It’s nearly midnight.” Not waiting for an answer, I dragged Hooker to the second theater on the right, my two dates trailing after us. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I wanted you to have a wider selection,” she explained. “Two guys, one date, double the chance of success. Isn’t it genius? This way you can choose: smart and dorky—again, basically you in boy form—or hot and…well hot.”

“You so owe me for this.”

“I know, I know,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But it’ll definitely give you something to put in that journal of yours. And hey, kudos on the sex hair. I’m so jealous. Mine would never do that.”

I nearly tripped. “What?”

Hooker nodded. “That’s a great look for you. Now all we need to do is find a better bra to give the girls a little pick-me-up, and you’re home free.”

Rolling my eyes, I walked down the aisle, feeling queasy. Bra support was the least of my problems. That much was clear even before the previews started.

I ended up seated between Austin and Chaz. The first offered me the armrest, asked if my seat was comfortable enough, wanted to know if I needed anything from the concession stand. By the tenth question—Why do people like the X-Men, anyway? Justice League is so much cooler—I’d had about enough. Movies were not talk time, and the incessant questions had to stop. Besides, everyone knew there was no comparison. Members of the Justice League were just X-Men wannabes, plain and simple. With him whispering in my ear every five seconds, I could barely hear the movie.

Chaz, though not as loquacious, was just as exasperating but for different reasons. He kept trying to put his hand on my thigh no matter how many times I swatted it away. His constant attempts to try and look down my shirt resulted in me leaning so close to Austin that, at one point, we’d ended up bumping heads. Thwarted, Chaz slumped back in his seat and told me to go buy him a large coke and popcorn with extra butter. Hearing him, Austin got upset, called him a douche, and the two started arguing back and forth with me trapped in the middle.

The fighting didn’t stop until one of the security guys came over and threatened to throw us out. After that it was, thankfully, quiet. But by then the movie was almost over.

As the credits rolled, Chaz stretched then said, “So, I guess it’s true what they say, Spitz. You really are uptight.”

I whipped around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Uptight,” he said again. “You know, frigid.”

“Who says that?” I asked in disbelief. I was glad Austin was somewhere down the row looking for his cell. He’d dropped it during the movie. I didn’t want anyone else hearing this.

“People.” Chaz shrugged. “Lillian said you were pretty desperate.”

Hooker had some major explaining to do.

“
Ich bin nicht das, was Du gerade über mich gesagt hast
,” I hissed. “
Und Du bist ein Idiot
.” Going by the confused look on his face, I may or may not have said all that in German. Plus or minus, a few swear words.