Hard to Get (3 page)

“Before we plunge into our discussion on the role of the Ghost in
Hamlet
, I'd like to pass back your midterm papers,” Mr. Fleming said. I straightened up. I'd worked for two solid weeks on my discussion of the character of Orsino in
Twelfth Night
. It was
definitely one of the best essays I'd written. Mr. Fleming retrieved a stack of papers and began strolling up and down the aisles.

“Here you go, Val,” he said, dropping the paper on my desk. “Nice work.”

I stared at the stapled pages sitting in front of me. B+! How was that possible? I'd slaved over that thing! Furiously, I grabbed the paper and started poring over the red-ink comments in the margins.

“I want to remind everyone that there is a revision option for this paper,” Mr. Fleming said, standing once more in front of the class. “If you do substantial revisions, I will gladly regrade the paper, up to one full letter grade. Revisions will be due in a week.”

I did some fast calculations in my notebook. Right now my GPA for the class was 3.9. But with an A+ on the paper, I could get it up to 4.0 for the semester. I put down my pencil. I'd just have to revise. It didn't matter that this was the only B I'd pulled down all semester. I never quit something I've started, not if there is even the tiniest chance I can do better.

The discussion of the Ghost dragged. My other morning classes also seemed way longer
than usual. Finally, the fourth bell rang and I closed my calc text with relief. Time to meet the girls for lunch. I needed some sustenance.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way into the hall along with the river of other juniors flowing out of the classrooms. People were pressing up against me from behind as everyone surged toward the bright sunshine streaming in from the front entrance.

I had my hand on the push bar of the big double doors when I sensed someone behind me. I whirled around to see Kevin, Dave's most obnoxious, beery friend, leering at me. Kevin made a lasting impression by puking in the umbrella stand during my homecoming party.

“Hey, Val,” he said, breathing like a rhinoceros. A miasma of musty aftershave hung over him in a cloud.

I tried to keep my nostrils from flaring with disgust. “Hi, Kevin. What's up?”

“Hey, I heard about you and Dave,” he said, laying a hand the size of a steak on my shoulder. “And you know, if you ever want to hang out sometime, I bet I can make you feel much better.”

Oh my God, he did not just say that.
I started backing into the doors, my polite smile rapidly deteriorating into a grimace. “Kevin, thanks for the, um, offer …”

He followed me. “I'm having some people over on Saturday. You want to come? It's going to be wild.”

His face was looming larger and larger as he leaned toward me. “Maybe, thanks, Kevin,” I choked out before I yanked my shoulder out of his sweaty grasp and pushed the double doors open. I caught a glimpse of his startled expression before the heavy metal doors banged shut.

I could see Becca and Kelly sitting in the car as I hurried across the asphalt. “Oh my God,” I gasped as I collapsed into the backseat. “You would not believe my morning.”

“Why? What happened?” Kelly asked as Becca pulled out of the parking lot with a screech. We had to rush if we wanted to get to the sub shop and back in time for the sixth bell.

“Oh, nothing, if you don't count the Valentine's Day explosion in my locker, twenty-five texts,
and
Kevin Daugherty almost jumping me in the hall just now.”

Kelly looked over at Becca and nodded. “Told you.”

“I know,” Becca said.

“What?” I asked, leaning forward. “Told her what?”

Kelly flipped down the sun visor and rearranged her ponytail in the mirror. “I told Becca everyone at school would be talking about you. You're the Magically Single Girl.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said, flopping back in the seat. “I knew I could count on you for unconditional support.”

Kelly reached back and patted my knee. “Anytime, girlfriend.”

I set my tray on the table and slid into the booth next to Becca, unwrapping my turkey on whole wheat. “What is that, a lettuce sandwich?” I asked Kelly, eyeing her anemic meal.

Kelly looked slightly defensive. “There's a piece of cheese on it. I need to shed a few pounds before regionals.” She took the top bun off her sandwich and discarded it. Becca rolled her eyes.

“So, did you guys hear that the theme for prom is Magical You?” Becca asked.

“Yeah. I think it's better than last year. I mean, Wonderful Tonight? Did they think
it was 1978 or something?” Kelly said.

I put down my sandwich. In all the mess over Dave, I'd totally forgotten about the junior-senior prom in May. Of course, the last time I thought about it, I'd just assumed I already had the best date in the world.
Hah
. So much for that. My stomach started churning at the thought of Taylor prancing around the dance floor at the Belton Banquet Club with Dave clutched in her pointy little nails.

“So do you think Logan will ask you?” Kelly asked Becca. Logan was Becca's regular make-out buddy. They had a good system—no guilt, no commitment. They'd have marathon make-out sessions in Becca's den, and then go get tacos.

Becca nodded. “Yeah, I think so. He was kind of hinting at it the other night. You know—as long as it doesn't make us official. What's Brent been saying?”

“He keeps insisting he's going to wear a powder blue tux, but I told him that if he does that, I'm going to go in my Speedo.”

I heaved a gusty sigh. Both girls looked over at me. There was a pregnant pause and then Becca said, “Don't worry, Val. You can go with anyone you want.”

“That's the problem,” I said, stealing one of Becca's potato chips. “I
wanted
to go with Dave. Obviously that's not going to work now.”

We all chewed thoughtfully for a minute. I swallowed my bite of turkey. It tasted like glue. “Whatever,” I said. “I've got more to worry about than prom. Dave's licking Taylor's face every day in the halls, I've somehow become a Happy Meal for all the single guys at school,
and
I totally forgot that the deadline for the community service projects is next week. Mrs. Masterson was talking about it in class again. I really don't want to do that group food-bank project. Maybe I'll do the individual option.”

“I totally forgot too!” Becca exclaimed. “What are you going to do, Kel?”

Before Kelly could answer, I was distracted by a tap on my shoulder. I turned around. Willy Pearce was standing behind me, looking like he was ready to pass out. I could already hear the girls starting to snicker. Willy had had a crush on me for years. He was one of those guys who look like they've spent their entire lives in some dark basement. As he stood there, his pale blue eyes blinked nervously and his hands
twitched. A few strands of blond hair were pasted to his forehead. “Uh, hi, Val,” he finally whispered. It seemed to take all his strength to get the words out.

I kicked Becca under the table to stop her now audible giggles. “Hi, Willy. What's going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” Willy said with a ghastly attempt at suavity. Silence descended. Willy's mouth worked but nothing came out. I waited patiently, rolling my sub paper into a little ball. “I—I was just wondering
if maybe, um, maybe, if you're free, I could IM you one night and …” His voice gave out.

I groaned silently. “Um, sure. No problem. I mean, I'm really busy these days …”
I shot a warning glance at Kelly, whose face was growing dangerously red. Chortles were escaping in explosive puffs from the corners of her mouth. “But we can IM sometime.”

A wobbly smile spread over Willy's face and he rushed away, almost crashing into the trash can on his way out.

I turned to my friends, who had lost their restraint and were collapsed on each other's shoulders, weak with laughter. “See, what'd I
tell you?” I said. “Val the Happy Meal.”

Kelly rattled her straw against the bottom of the cup and sucked up the last of her Sprite. “Yeah, that's what you said in the car.”

“I know. It's so irritating.” I tried to shoot my balled-up sub paper at the trash can. It missed by several feet.

Next to me, Kelly raised her arms over her head and shot her sandwich paper at the trash can too. Of course, it went in. “I don't know, I think it sounds cute. I mean, all of these guys basically want you. Why is that irritating?”

I opened my mouth to respond but Becca held up her hand. “Stop! We have to go back or we're going to be late. To be continued—my house after school.”

We all stood up and collected our bags. “I think we're playing basketball in gym next,” Kelly said happily as she pushed open the smeary glass door.

“Ohhh,” I moaned. “I totally forgot. Oh, God. I didn't bring my shorts.” Ms. Lenning, the hyper-fit, hyper-alert gym teacher, was adamant about gym clothes. I'd already forgotten my shorts about fifty times this semester. Last time, she told me that if I left them at home one more time, she'd give me
a D. Not that a D in gym really mattered, but it would drag down my GPA. Naturally, I couldn't let that happen.

“You can borrow mine,” Kelly offered. She smiled at me and slid into the front seat as Becca started the engine. “Shotgun.”

“Really? That would be great,” I said, distracted from her poaching of the front seat. Luckily I still had an old pair of sneakers in my locker from the earth science class creek-walk.

“I don't know
why
you guys opted to take PE this semester,” Becca sniffed. She turned onto the main road, lined with squalid strip malls and faceless Old Navys and Targets. “It's not like you have to.”

“Hey, we can't all convince the guidance counselor that spinning classes at the Y are the same as a gym credit.” Kelly propped her feet on the dashboard.

Becca glanced over. “For the hundredth time, could you please not do that? My windshield has all these nasty, smudgy toe prints all over it.”

Kelly reluctantly thumped her feet to the floor.

“Yeah, how
did
you swing that one?” I asked, leaning forward between the seats.
“You've got a study hall and I'm stuck throwing balls of various sizes around with Dave and Taylor for company.”

“At least that's your only class with them.” Becca glanced in the rearview mirror. Her brown eyes were concerned. “Are you going to be okay?”

I tried to smile reassuringly. “Sure! I'll be fine.” My voice came out a little overloud. I saw Becca and Kelly exchange glances.

I sighed. “Look, I made it through the morning, right? And things surely can't get any worse than that.”

“Look at that, three minutes to spare,” Becca said, turning into the school parking lot.

“Yeah, when you drive ninety,” Kelly mumbled.

Becca ignored her. “Look, Val, everything's going to be fine. All those guys are just a little worked up about you being single. I'll bet they've forgotten all about it by now.”

“And Taylor's probably totally irritating Dave already,” Kelly chimed in. She hoisted her duffel from the floor of the car.

I smiled. “Thanks, guys. You're both terrible liars—but thanks.” We climbed out
of the car and Becca gave me a hug as Kelly practically bounded over to the doors leading directly to the gym.

“Come on, Val!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Bell in three minutes!”

I dragged myself after her. She hauled open the big blue metal doors, and the sweaty-foot, dirty-sock smell of the gym wafted out from the yellow-lit interior. I could hear the echoing thump of basketballs being tossed around, interspersed with staccato shouts.

Inside, most kids were assembled in slouchy groups on the bleachers, while several enthusiasts, including an already-sweating Kevin, were already racing up and down the court like they were playing in an NCAA tournament. Ms. Lenning, clad in her usual crisp white polo shirt and ironed green gym shorts, was ticking off names on the attendance sheet. With a nausea-inducing pang, I spotted Dave and Taylor sitting practically in each other's laps in a top bleacher. I looked away fast and followed Kelly to the locker room, which was mostly deserted and strewn with discarded jeans, T-shirts, and flip-flops. Kelly dug into her bag and tossed me a pair of shorts.

“These are tiny!” I held the minuscule garment up in front of me. “I said shorts, not underwear!”

Kelly sat down on one of the wooden benches with a thump and pulled off her jeans. “They're just my track shorts, that's all. I don't like all that fabric when I'm trying to run.”

“No, I guess you like your butt cheeks hanging out the back instead,” I mumbled, trying to squeeze the shorts over my hips. I wiggled right and left and finally got them up, just as the locker room door banged open.

“Anyone not on the court in ten seconds gets an F for the day!” Ms. Lenning hollered in at us. Without glancing in the mirror, I yanked on my T-shirt, sprinted for the door, and slid onto a bottom bleacher just as the bell rang.

Kevin spotted me after I sat down. “Val! Val! Hey, Val!” he yelled, skidding to a halt midsprint and waving at me like a two-hundred-pound cheerleader. Brian North and Travis Gosdin turned around too. “Hi! Hi, Val!” It was like a chorus of baby birds, except not babies and not birds.

I offered them a weak smile and twisted
around to see if Dave had noticed my popularity. But I couldn't tell because Taylor was now sitting directly in his lap, completely obscuring his face with her thicket of blond waves. I clenched my nails into my palms in hopes that the pain in my hands would distract me from the pain in my heart.

“Teams, everyone!” Ms. Lenning ordered. “Captains are Dave and Kelly.”

Oh, God.
I licked my lips, which were suddenly parched. Dave climbed down and stood in front of us. His sun-streaked light brown hair curled around his forehead and ears, and his big, sexy shoulders pushed against the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He looked so hot, I felt like crying all over again. Involuntarily, I twisted around. Taylor saw me looking and waggled her fingers at me with a smirk. I bit my tongue.