Measuring Up (9 page)

There are so many times they talk about Tegan where it would be so easy for me to ask about him. To try and find out which Tegan is real. I’m sure I can even find out what they did the other day, but I don’t. None of it feels right.

A good two hours pass before Tegan’s mom’s cell phone rings and they let her know the van is ready. On autopilot I slump back in my chair. Not only do I not want to go home, I haven’t called Em yet.

“Do you need a ride home?” Tim’s eyes are wide, excited when he asks.

The urge to say yes almost overpowers me. “I’m going to call my friend to pick me up. Thanks anyway.”

“Are you sure? Any girl who gives my brother a black eye is a friend of mine.”

My cheeks heat. “It
was an accident! I swear I didn’t mean to hit him.” My eyes find Dana, but she’s only laughing.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m sure he deserved it. Plus, he was pretty proud of that black eye.” She answers.

“Proud?”

“
Yep. You made him proud
. He couldn’t stop bragging about the girl who gave him a right hook.”

My breath catches. I don’t think she notices because suddenly she’s hugging me goodbye. I hug her back tightly, wondering what it would feel like for Mom to give me hugs this strong.

“Thanks for hanging out with us.” She winks at me and then she and Tim are gone.

***

I’m lying in bed, my room dark. I’ve been trying to go to sleep for hours, but it’s just not happening. I roll to the left and think about Tegan, how he doesn’t like to talk about his brother. The family that obviously loves him and who, by the way they were talking, they’re all incredibly close.

About how his mom said he couldn’t stop talking about me, even though it was only about my punch.

Roll to the right and I think about her hug. How accepting she was to me, even though we hardly know each other. She hugged me the way Dad does.

On my back I think about Mom. How much I embarrass her. It kills me to embarrass her. I don’t understand why, when she doesn’t even care enough to have thanked me for helping today.
She asked why I disappeared, easily accepted my lie about Em and then went on and on about the pageant she wants me to have nothing to do with.

When my phone vibrates on my bedside table, I jump. Rolling over I pick it up. It’s a text, but I don’t know the number.

Hey. It’s Tegan.

Why is he texting me? Why
do my hands shake when I reply?
Hey.

I’m sorry for being an ass.

It’s not okay.
My bravery makes me smile.

I’m glad… meet me tomorrow? Same time, same place. I promise to show up this time.

Meet him? I don’t know if I can… I don’t know if I can’t. I want to know more about him and for some reason, I want him to know more about me too.
How do I know you’re not going to ditch me?

I’ll be there. Scouts honor. The question is, will you?

It takes me ten minutes to reply.
Yes.

Chapter Eight

A JOGGING WE WILL GO

To my surprise, T
egan stands
next to a beat
up Honda Accord when I pull
up in front of Let’s Get Physical, smoothie in hand. This time, I’m not early. Who cares if I had to park around the corner and wait until I could drive up at the exact right time?

I pretend to fiddle with my bag to buy myself a minute. This time our jog is really going to happen and it freaks me out. Makes me realize a part of me was glad he didn’t show last time.

When I look up, Tegan is standing right by my window.
He taps his wrist and I get out of the car. “What? We’re not jogging from
here
are we?” The thought of people out for their morning coffee seeing my jigglies is not my idea of fun.

“No, get in. I’m driving.” He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, his elusive tattoo still hiding from view.

I glance at my car and back at him. It’s not like I mind him driving, but like I said, this isn’t the best side of town so I’m a little nervous about leaving my car here.

“It’ll be okay, princess. Don’t worry about it. I already told Kim to keep an eye out for you, not that I need to.”

I bite my cheeks so I don’t smile. Reaching over, I grab my backpack and water bottle, lock up and walk over to his car. My backpack is strategically in front of me, which is lame. I can’t hide behind it and I’m not sure why I’m trying.

My pack follows me to my lap when I sit in the passe
nger side. I wrap my arms around it, holding it tight. A second later, Tegan’
s behind the wheel.

“I’m not going to bite, ya know. You’d think you were the one who almost got knocked out with how freaked out you look over there.”

It happens automatically and I don’t realize I’ve playfully smacked his arm until I've al
ready done it.
“I didn’t almost knock you out. Stop making me feel bad.”

“Whatever you say, Rocky.” He looks at me and winks, exactly the way his mom did before pulling away.

We’re both quiet. So quiet I fear he might hear my stomach growl. I skipped breakfast this morning, a major no-no on Tegan’s list. I really don’t get that breakfast is the most important meal of the day crap. “Where are we going?” His tattooed arm is his left so even though I’m pretty sure his sleeve is high enough that I should be able to see it, I can’t because it faces his window.

“Right outside of town. There are some trails people jog on. It’s real secluded except for the joggers. If you keep going there’s a little park out there too. Not real big. Just some picnic tables and stuff. That cool?”

“Um, yeah. Secluded sounds good to me.”

Tegan turns his head a little, giving me a really wicked smile. “If you wanted to be alone with me, you just had to ask.”

“I-!” have no idea what to say… “You are so conceited!”

“I’m just giving you crap. You make it way too easy. I’m trapped in that gym most of my life and the other girls aren’t nearly as fun as you.”

My stomach starts to feel queasy and it has nothing to do with skipping out on breakfast. Today he’s the light, sarcastic Tegan. “I’m sure I make a much easier mark than them.”

He squints his eyes, trying to figure out what I mean and then says, “Hey. That’s not what I meant, Annabel Lee. I meant… I guess I just meant I don’t have fun with the rest of them. I need a little fun in my life.”

Butterflies chase away the nausea. Who knew butterflies could be so fierce? Right now, mine are, because I think he just admitted something that might not have been too easy for him. I shrug and smile. “Thanks?” How stupid. I sound like I’m asking him. “I mean, thanks. Me, too.”

He laughs. “You don’t have to lie. I know you’re pissed at me half the time. Especially when
I ask you somewhere and don’t
show up…”

I don’t know what to say to that so I don’t say anything. We’re quiet the rest of the way. It doesn’t take long before Tegan’s pulling his car into an almost deserted lot. The grass behind it is a vivid green and well-trimmed. Little hills dance across the distance, nothing major, but they definitely add to the visual. Trees provide shade, but it’s not overbearing. I don’t feel like I’m Grisly Adams in the forest or anything. “How did I not know this place was here?”

We get out of the car. “It’s pretty much for joggers or bikers. I mean, everyone can come, but not many people do.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yep. It’s one of my favorite places. We’ll see if you still like it after we’re done today.” Tegan winks at me, before grabbing something out of his trunk and tossing it at me. Luckily I catch it.

“Geez, warn a girl. You could have poked my eye out.”

“As opposed to punching it?”

“Whatever.” I look at what he handed me. It’s some kind of breakfast bar. I raise my eyebrows at him. What is this guy, psychic or something?

“You need to eat to lose weight. Just make sure it’s healthy. Plus, you need energy before we head out.”

“How’d you…”

“I didn’t, but thanks
for confirming my suspicion.”

This boy is too much! I feel all upside down and backward around him. But the surprising part is, I kind of enjoy it. Not that I’d ever admit it to him. “You suck.” Before he can reply I turn so my back is to him and start eating the stupid bar. I hear a package open, telling me he’s eating one as well. Tegan offers to take my water bottle for me and before I know it, he’s leading me to a path to begin our run.
My heart beats
about a million miles an hour. My palms are already sweaty and I’m really starting to doubt my own sanity for coming out here with him.

As always, Tegan seems to know. He stops me when we get to the path. “Hey.” I turn to face him. He steps toward me and I don’t know why, but I gasp. He’s so close the butterflies are back in my belly. Why is he so close? His arms reach toward me and I swear I feel like I might pass out and then he’s rubbing my arms up and down like my dad would before a pep talk or something. Boys have such an ability to screw with a girl’s head. What did I think he would do?

“Relax, Rocky. You’re going to knock this out just like you did me.”

Why does he insist on bringing this up?

“We’re going to take it slow. Jog a bit, walk, jog some more. No biggie. Got it?”

“Got it.” And then he’s not touching me anymore and jogging away. I ignore the rapid fire beat of my heart and join him. Neither of us talk as we make our way down the path at a slow pace. I’m distinctly aware of him beside me, those soulful eyes of his looking forward. Speaking of forward, maybe I should be looking there too.

So I do. I face the front, trying to focus on nature around us when really all I’m paying attention to is the way our feet pound against the ground to a shared beat. Bump, bump, bump, bump. Our breaths mingle; his mine, his mine.  Our own music, and we’re playing together without trying. It’s then I realize, I like the tune. Maybe a little too much.

“You doing okay over there, Annabel Lee?” You can hardly hear the difference in his voice. He co
uld be lounging on the couch
as winded as he sounds.

“Yep.” And I am. Sure I feel a little out of breath, and my legs are starting to plead with me to give them a break, but it’s not overbearing. It actually feels kind of good.

“Told you, you had this. We’ll go a little longer, slow it down to a fast walk and then pick it up again.”

This time I only nod in reply. I’m back to our music. The slight rustle of the air in the trees adding a wind section. The way my heart drums, urging me on because this crazy wild rhythm is good for it. And as lame and cheesy as it sounds, it feels freeing. I keep going, keep my focus until Tegan’s elbow nudges me.

“Let’s take it down a notch.”

When he says a notch, that’s exactly what he means. This isn’t a leisurely stroll.

“You were out there. I’d like to see you tell me you aren’t enjoying this. I mean, of course you’re enjoying it because I’m here, but the jog too—”

That earns him a sharp smack on
the arm. “Ouch!
”

“You deserved that. We need to take
you
down a notch.”

Tegan turns so he’s walk/jogging backward, looking at me. “You like it. Admit you like me teasing you.”

“Admit it, you’re always fishing for compliments.”

“If I admit it, will you?”

“I admit nothing.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

It takes a minute to realize what’s going on here. Are we flirting? It’s such a strange concept. I’ve never flirted in my life. Maybe that’s not what this is. And if it is, it’s because Tegan is like that. Kind of flirty.  And me? Well I guess I’m getting hypnotized by our music.

“Break over.” Before I have a chance to comprehend what he said, he’s jogging away and I’m running to try to catch up. It only takes a minute, partly because I somehow find a new burst of energy and also because he slows down for me. We continue on the path doing our walk/jog thing and before I know it, we’ve made a loop and we’re almost back to the car.

There’s a burning tingle running the length of my legs. And it sucks. Seriously, it doesn’t feel good, but in other ways it does. Like Tegan said, it sort of feels like my war wound. Proof that I’ve accomplished something.

“We’re almost there. Push a little bit more and I’m done torturing you for the day. I swear.”

As soon as we make it back to the car, I collapse in the grass. I’m too tired to care how it looks. The air fights to escape me, but I reel it in, taking deep, long breaths until they smooth into a steady rhythm.

Like he’d just woken up from a nap, Tegan hands me my water and sits next to me. He has his hands latched, arms around his legs, feet on the ground in a totally relaxed position. Jerk.

But it’s then I realize he just helped me see something I’ve been way too curious about. The sleeve of his shirt is high enough that I see his sculpted arm and the tattoo on it. It’s some kind of symbol. I’m not sure what it means, but then there’s a name under it too.