Being Jamie Baker (12 page)

“I didn’t do anything.” I was surprised by the defensiveness in Mike’s voice. “I don’t know what her problem is. We had a great time at the dance.”

“And an even better time after the dance, from what I hear.” Justin laughed.

“What? So, Mike, are you two, like, a thing now?” Paige asked.

Paige seemed pretty excited by the idea of Mike and Becky. She was obviously hoping she didn’t have to worry about Becky as competition for Ryan anymore since everyone knows that “Ryan and Becky” is only a matter of time, but Mike burst her bubble pretty quickly. “She wishes,” he said.

“Ugh, so it
was
you. Thanks a lot.”

“What was me?”

“You’re the reason Becky’s been pouting all week. She’s mad that you turned her down.”

“What can I say? I asked her to go to the dance with me, not marry me. I can’t be tied down like that. There are way too many beautiful ladies at this school.” Mike winked at Tamika as he bumped his fist against Justin’s. Tamika’s back was to me, so I couldn’t be sure, but judging from her silence, I’m sure she swooned. I, on the other hand, threw up in my mouth a little. The guy makes me sick. I can’t believe I used to think he and Ryan were on the same level.

I couldn’t listen to any more, so I left the cafeteria and spent the rest of my day trying to block out everyone. Usually the best way to do that is to get lost in my own thoughts, which wasn’t hard today.

With Ryan not in school I was crazy with worry. Worried that I’d scared him so much he transferred schools, or that whatever I’d done to him somehow made him sick enough that he was in a hospital somewhere. Dying. Right now. Because of me.

As I walked to English my worry expanded beyond just Ryan’s well-being. I started to fear that maybe he’d told his parents. That maybe they’d gone to the police. And maybe, just maybe, the government was planning a secret operation right now to take me away to Area 51 or some secret place like that.

My paranoia was disrupted when I reached the classroom and Becky was already there, with her head down on her desk. For the first time since I came to this school, I felt a hint of sympathy for her.

What Mike did to her was pretty lousy. I couldn’t believe I was thinking this, but when it was just the two of us in the room, I considered talking to her. I knew I shouldn’t get myself involved in the mess—I already had more than enough trouble on my hands with Ryan, and I didn’t need anyone else curious about me—but for reasons I simply can’t explain, when she felt me staring and looked up, I actually smiled at her and said, “Hi.”

Becky looked confused for a second, but she quickly turned her surprise into a brutal glare. The look stung. Not that she had any reason to be friendly to me or trust me, but it was the first time I’d made any attempt at all to reach out to someone since my accident. I was shocked that I’d done it, but I was way more surprised that her reaction to me hurt.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Paige’s interruption startled us both. Paige glanced back and forth between the two of us and started to question what was going on, but then decided Becky was more important. “How come you didn’t tell us what happened?” she demanded with bland sympathy. “Mike told us about Friday night.”

“What do you mean?” Becky gasped. “What did he tell you?”

“He’s telling everyone that you guys hooked up after the dance, and you freaked out when he said he didn’t want to have a girlfriend.”

There was something eerily familiar about Becky’s expressionless eyes, and the hollow tone in her voice, as she replied to Paige. “Mike’s a liar.”

“You mean you guys didn’t do it?”

Even if Becky’s silence hadn’t given away the truth, the tears in her eyes would have. She put her head back down on her desk, and Paige put her hand on her shoulder. “You got played, Becky, but you can’t let him beat you. Everybody in school knows what happened. You’ve got to suck it up and not let them see that he hurt you. Otherwise you’re going to…” Paige glanced at me and lowered her voice. Not that it mattered. “Otherwise you’re gonna end up like
her
.” Becky’s eyes naturally drifted back to me, and for the first time in my life, I looked away, feeling scared and ashamed. Scared of what Becky thought of me and ashamed of what I’d let myself become.

The feeling almost brought tears to my eyes, and I was horrified that I might actually cry in front of them, but luckily, students began drifting into class, breaking the tension.

When the bell rang, Paige finally sat down in her seat. “Why don’t you and Tamika come over to my house after practice today, and we’ll think up a great smear campaign for the jerk. You know, Scott Cole is single and completely gorgeous. If you go out with him, it will make Mike so jealous he’ll be begging your forgiveness within a week.”

“Can we please not talk about this anymore?” Becky snapped. “I’m not going out with Scott, and I’m definitely not going to forgive Mike! Look, it’s nice of you and Tamika to want to help, but please just let me deal with this on my own. Okay?”

“Fine. Dig your own grave.”

Paige was clearly insulted, and as much as I wanted to take pleasure in her misery, I couldn’t. I was still stuck on the nasty look Becky had given me. I don’t know why, but it rattled me inside and out.

I didn’t think it was possible anymore, but Becky Eastman had actually hurt my feelings. I tried not to think about it through the rest of class because I shouldn’t have let her get to me, but I just couldn’t stop.

It wasn’t until on the way home from school that I managed to think about Ryan instead of Becky, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

“I HATE HIM!”

I slammed my bedroom door so hard that it blew through the doorjamb and straight into the wall across the hallway. Then of course I flung myself down on my bed as if the world was coming to an end.

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!”

I heard the sound of debris crunching beneath my mother’s feet as she crossed the now-doorless threshold into my room. “Jamie? What’s wrong?”

“I hate him!”

“Hate who?”

“Why did he have to do that? I was doing just fine on my own! I was finally starting to forget all the things I was missing out on. Getting used to being a loner. Accepting my fate! Now, one little dirty look from Becky, and I’m spilling more water than Niagara Falls. I HATE HIM!”

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to get a grip on yourself. The neighbors don’t know to trip their circuit breakers when you’re upset, and I don’t want to be the only house on the street with power tonight.”

“I don’t care about the neighbors anymore!” I screamed, ignoring my mother’s warning. I knew she had a very valid point as much as I knew why the sound of her voice came from across the room, instead of right beside me. But I didn’t want to be calm this time. “I’m seventeen years old—I’m
supposed
to get irrational! I want to be a normal, hormonal teenage girl! I want to be able to love OR

HATE whoever I want, as
much
as I want!”

When I screamed, the entire house shook around me, forcing my mother and me both to freeze.

She’d cut the power to the house the minute she heard the door slam—a useful trick we’d picked up over the last year—so I’m not sure how I was having an effect on the walls.

The power inside me was stronger than it ever had been. It was so terrifying that my rage vanished in an instant. “I should leave for a while, until it’s safe. I’ll be back by dinner.” My mom just nodded her blood-drained face, and I took off before she could warn me to be careful.

Where was Ryan’s Zen garden when I needed it? I was on top of Mount Rushmore, one of the most beautiful places America has to offer, and yet I didn’t feel even a tenth of the serenity I’d felt in Ryan’s backyard.

“That’s because it wasn’t the flowers that made you feel better, idiot!” I sighed in defeat. “But I can’t help it!”

The talking out loud seemed to help. “I love every single thing about him. Even the things I hate.

His confidence. His persistence. That stupid grin that’s plastered on his face twenty-four, seven.” I could feel the smile breaking out on my lips as I spoke. “I love his stupid witty comebacks, even if he is way better at them than me. I love his ridiculous nonchalant attitude, even if it always makes me want to scream.”

I closed my eyes, and I could see Ryan’s face so clearly that I could practically feel him there. My smile faded, and I didn’t have the heart to say the last one out loud, but I couldn’t not think it.
I love the
way he held me, even though I’d just warned him that doing so was extremely bad for his health
.

I tried to push the memory from my mind, but one point kept resurfacing. He’d held me
after
he knew the truth. I’d scared him, sure, and rightfully so. But he didn’t run away screaming. No, that was me.

After coming to the conclusion that there was simply no way for me to get over Ryan, I decided that if he could risk electrocution to try to make me feel better, then he deserved that same kind of courage from me. If he wanted a relationship, then he was going to get one. It was time to give in to Ryan Miller.

Well, not entirely. I still couldn’t kiss him. After all, I couldn’t turn my only friend into a pile of ashes. But I was sure that if I explained the necessity of a strictly platonic relationship, he would understand. Hopefully, he could be happy with the compromise.

Being able to let go of my fear and admit that I could be friends—just friends—with Ryan was the stress breaker I had been praying for. I felt so much better that I practically skipped all the way home, and then I burst through the door with a giant smile on my face.

My mom gasped when I appeared behind her in the kitchen and hugged her as tight as I could without breaking her in half. “Feeling better?” she asked, eyes sparkling with happy relief.

“Much!”

“I’m glad. That means at least one of you is in a good mood.” My mom nodded her head toward the living room, where my dad was absorbed in something on ESPN, and suddenly my great mood was right back to scared and grumpy. My mom seemed encouraging as I debated facing my father, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was marching to my doom as I stole his attention from the game.

“Dad?”

“Jamielynn Baker, where on God’s green earth have you been for the last four hours!” He literally roared. Like a bear. And when he jumped out of his seat, I could see the veins in his neck popping. I knew he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled about the condition of the upstairs hallway, but I hadn’t expected him to fly off the handle like that. I mean it really wasn’t my fault. Well, it was but not completely. It’s not like I ripped the door from its hinges on purpose.

“Don’t worry, Dad.” I couldn’t help but get defensive. “I wasn’t at the library. Or on a computer or reading a book. I’m grounded, okay, I get it.”

“Grounded or not, you can’t just take off like that! Not without telling us where you’re going.” Okay, I’ll admit it. I was being a little facetious as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and waved it at him. Sue me. “More bars in more places?” I spat. “That’s why you got me the stupid thing, remember? Mount Rushmore has surprisingly good reception. Not that you bothered to call to see how I was doing. Forgive me if I was afraid I was going to blow up Mom.” I was aiming for guilt, but I was surprised when I received compassion. My dad sighed and pulled me into a grip that resembled a bear more than his yelling had. There’s nothing better than one of my dad’s bear hugs, except for maybe one of Ryan’s hugs. I was putty in his arms, and I sighed deeply. “I’m really sorry about the door, Dad. I’ll help you fix it. I swear I really didn’t mean to—” I cut myself off when my dad chuckled. “You’re… not mad?”

My dad’s embrace tightened. “Not at you, honey. You’re my baby girl—how could I be? But wait till I get my hands on the boy who has you so upset you’re throwing doors through my bathroom wall.” He wasn’t kidding.

“Oh no, Dad! It’s okay. Ryan’s actually a super nice guy. It’s not even him I was really mad at.

Okay, it was, but it wasn’t his fault. See, there’s this girl at school and—”

“So it
was
the Miller boy then?” His compassion was slowly turning to frustration. “Jamie, we talked about this.”

“I know, but, Dad—”

“No buts. He knows too much. It’s too dangerous. You have got to stop talking to him.” Ha! If he only knew. “Yeah but, Dad, I was thinking about that. Don’t you think it might be better if I just explained things to him?”

My father’s eyes bulged from their sockets, but I took a deep breath and continued with my theory.

“I mean, he obviously knows something’s up. He’s not just going to let it go. He likes me, Dad, and I trust him. He could keep this secret.” I hope…

“Absolutely not!”

So much for frustration. We were officially back to anger.

“I don’t get it. You say you want me to make friends, and then you ban me from the only one I’ve got. I like Ryan, Dad. I like him a lot. I think he could handle it. Think how much easier it could be if I just told him the truth.”

“No one can ever find out about you! No one! Don’t you understand what would happen if people learned about the things you can do?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled bitterly. My dad wasn’t the only one who’d come full circle with the emotions.

“I’d end up in some secret government lab somewhere. But aside from the possible needles, I don’t see how I’d be any worse off than I already am. It’s not like I don’t basically live in a cage now anyway, with only my books to keep me company. And I don’t even have those anymore!” That was a low blow. Dad was hurt, I could tell. But he kept his composure. “I’m putting my foot down,” he said in a voice so cold I figured out who I get my ice queen tendencies from. “You are not to talk to that boy ever again. No one is going to take my daughter away. Not now, not ever.”

“What’s it matter if I can’t have a life either way?”

“Promise me, Jamie.” He was pleading with me now. “Don’t throw your life away over a boy.

Make friends, go out, have a life. You know that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Just promise me you won’t ever tell anyone. You may not care, but I can’t lose my baby girl.” My dad’s veins were popping out again, but his eyes misted over with tears. They were nothing compared to the flood streaming down my mother’s cheeks, but still, if he was going for guilt, it definitely worked. Too bad he was asking for a promise I couldn’t make. A promise I’d already broken.