Somewhere in the Middle (4 page)

"Just wondering. High school boys are ridiculous."

Cory grinned. "Got anyone particular in mind?"

"JR, Bryan, Rick, Les..." I grimaced. "The list goes on and on."

My brother took the tray and began placing the patties on the grill. A
sizzle and some heavenly smells resulted. "Dad still nagging you about
getting a life?"

"How'd you guess?"

He chuckled. "What about Sid? You two have always been tight."

"He's gay."

"I knew it!"

"Came out early this year. I was so proud of him."

"How'd his folks take it?"

"The same way they take everything he does. 'Whatever you want to do,
son. Now please go away. We're sooo busy.'"

Cory winced. "They're going to regret that someday."

I could only agree. Sid was definitely going to be somebody, most
likely a famous cartoonist. Every manga lover on campus was hooked on the
graphic novels he wrote and illustrated. "And then it will be too
late."

"Don't let Dad bully you, okay? He's stuck in the eighties. Things are
different now. It's okay to dance without a partner."

"I
know
."

"You'll find the right guy. Maybe not in high school. Maybe not in
college. But I know there's someone out there who's just perfect for
you."

"Exactly. Thanks." I gave him a grateful hug before heading indoors to
wash up the tray.

* * * *

On Monday I went to school certain that Roone and I were now friends.
By noon, I was just as certain we weren't. He'd barely said a word the
whole morning even though we'd passed each other in the hall. As for the
first class we shared, fourth period English, when Roone walked in, he
went straight to his desk without acknowledging I was anywhere around. So
when I carried my lunch bag to the table Sid Wharton had chosen for us, I
was in a ridiculously lousy mood.

"Hey, sista," he said.

"Hey."

"Ooh. Who pissed on your five-grain, real butter, all-natural sugar
and cinnamon toast?" Yeah. He knew me well.

My shoulders sagged. "Did I snap at you? Sorry. Don't know why I'm in
such a funk." I plopped down next to Sid, who looked really good in his
sculpted jeans, plain white tee, and navy blue vest. I noticed that he'd
styled his dark hair a little differently and playfully patted the short
spikes on top of his head. "Nice."

"Too much?"

"Nope. Suits you perfectly." As I unwrapped my sandwich, I
surreptitiously scanned the room. Only when I saw Roone sitting with a
couple of jocks did I realize he was the reason I did it. I sighed my
disgust just as Dayna joined us with her lunch tray.

"Hi."

"Hi," we said in sync.

She sat across from us and eyed my sandwich. "What are you
eating?"

"Organic PBJ."

"Blehhh!"

"The food served in this cafeteria has unhealthy additives. That
nugget there?" I pointed one of several on her tray. "The chicken who
donated it was so high on growth steroids I'm surprised the thing hasn't
hopped out of that paper bowl and run for its life."

Dayna eyed the nugget in question and then popped it into her mouth.
"Tastes okay to me."

Sid burst out laughing. Of course I joined in, though a little
late.

"What?" Dayna asked, her mouth still full.

"Nothing."

She glared at me, an expression that changed the moment her boyfriend
Gavin got to the table. After exchanging an affectionate shoulder bump
with him, she focused on me again. "You take everything way too
seriously, you know that? Clothes, food, dating. Lighten up,
chica
."

Sid, his eyes wide, kept silent, his gaze batting back and forth
between us as if he expected a blow up. Gavin seemed interested, too. But
I wasn't about to argue with Dayna when she had nothing to do with my
blue mood. "Sorry, Day."

"No problem." We exchanged forgiving smiles before she spoke again.
"So Sid...are you going to the dance?"

"Of course."

"And what are you wearing?"

"Wait until you see it." While Sid described in detail the tux he'd
rented, my mind wandered, and more than once I found myself staring at
Roone. What was up with him? Had my offer to type for his dad been taken
the wrong way? Did he think I was doing it to get his attention? Or, even
worse, that I was chasing him? "So what do you think?" Sid's question and
elbow nudge brought me back to the table.

"About what?" I asked.

Dayna hooted and glanced over her shoulder to see where I'd been
looking. Naturally Gavin and Sid did, too. "Give it up, Sid. She's a
million miles away...or is she simply stuck at that table over there?"

"Which one?" Sid's gaze nailed one after the other of the packed
student tables.

"Last on the right."

His gaze narrowed. "Roone Thorsen?"

I gasped. "Why would you say that?" There were five other people
sitting with Roone.

"Because he's the only new thing there."

"Roone's not a thing. He's a guy. A very nice guy."

Dayna leaned closer. "So nice that our girl is very, very confused
about him."

"No shit?" Gavin glanced back at Roone again, his expression
thoughtful.

Sid just beamed at me. "It's about damn time."

"Don't
you
start," I said.

He zipped his lip with his pinched fingers, but his eyes still
twinkled.

"I need some air." Throwing my lunch remains into my bag, I got up and
left the caf.

Winters in Alabama were typically mild with temperatures that ranged
from the low fifties to low thirties. No matter what they were, I didn't
wear a coat to school. McAlister High lockers was too small to hold one,
which meant I would've had to drag it to every class. Today, a chilly
breeze stung my flushed cheeks when I sat on one of the benches on campus
to finish my meal. But I didn't move from there until the warning bell
for fifth period chemistry rang.

By seventh period study hall, I'd encountered Roone three more times
without him so much as blinking at me. That resulted in a confrontation
the moment we sat in our assigned seats.

"What is your problem?" My voice came out a little louder than I meant
it to.

My question clearly surprised him. "Don't have one."

"Then why have you ignored me all seven times we've passed each other
in the hall, not to mention during fourth period?"

"You're keeping track?"

"Of course not, I just--"

"Sayers! Thorsen!"

Crap.
I looked beyond Roone and found Coach standing in the
aisle at the end of our row, his arms crossed over his chest.

I managed what I hoped was an innocent smile. "Yes, sir?"

Coach didn't buy it. "D-hall. This afternoon. Both of you." He turned
on his heel and left.

Furious with myself, I opened a book and pretended to study. Only when
Roone reached over and turned it in my lap did I realize I was reading
upside down. I didn't look at him or otherwise acknowledge the help.
Though my big mouth had just gotten us into trouble, his ignoring me all
day was just as much to blame. Or so I told myself.

When the bell rang, I dragged my tired body to the gym along with
every other student who'd been sent there for one reason or another. We
all seated ourselves in the bleachers with plenty of space between us.
Since the detention would last thirty minutes, I figured I had just
enough time to finish my calculus problems. Roone, who entered the gym
moments later, sat as far away from me as possible and stared at one of
the basketball goals the whole time.

At four, all of us filed out of the building and went our separate
ways with relief. After a quick trip to my locker, I headed to the
parking lot wondering whether or not to mention this little fiasco to
Dad. If I didn't and he found out, I'd be sorry, of course. But then I
dreaded an unnecessary confession. I didn't notice that Roone was peering
under the hood of an older Honda until I got to my own ride. Was he
having car problems?

Though tempted to leave him there without finding out, I couldn't.
Instead, I moved my car next to his and got out of it without killing the
engine. "Need a boost?"

"Maybe?"

I bit back a laugh. No guy had ever looked so clueless, but I didn't
fault him for it. My open mind wouldn't let me. Assuming all men were car
gurus was as stupid as assuming all women were good cooks. "I can jump
you." He nodded and watched closely while I opened my hood and got the
cables from my trunk. In seconds I had our batteries connected. "Start
your car."

Roone got into the Honda and did as requested. It kicked right off.
When he got out he looked a little sheepish. "You must think I'm a total
idiot."

"No. I think you're a guy who grew up with a dad who can't work a copy
machine as opposed to me, the girl who grew up with a shade-tree
mechanic."

"A what?"

"A guy who works on cars every spare chance he gets using skills
inherited from his father, who was a real mechanic." I disconnected all
the cables. "We all have unique skill sets. And do you really care what I
think, anyway?" Yeah. I still hadn't let it go.

"Of course I do."

"Couldn't prove it by me." With a strained smile, I tossed the cables
into my trunk, slammed it shut, and walked to the driver's side of the
Trans Am.

Roone stepped up close just as I got there, which put my open door
between us. "Look, I'm sorry if I've been rude today. It's just...well...I
can't have a girlfriend right now."

The air left my lungs in a whoosh. "Whoa! Who said anything about
that? For your information, I don't want a boyfriend, either."

"I didn't say I didn't want a girlfriend. I said I can't have one. And
why don't you want one?"

"They're too much trouble. Why can't you have one?" I slid behind the
wheel of my car, my gaze on Roone, who'd rested his forearms on the open
door.

"It's very, very complicated."

Hm. "Does it involve a girlfriend in NowhereNear?"

"Nowhere--? Ohhh. Absolutely not."

Hmm. I didn't know what to think now. "Can we be friends?"

His lips spread into a wide smile. "I'd love to have a friend in
McAlister, Alabama."

"Then you have one." I tugged on the door.

He raised his arms and stepped back so I could shut it. Moments later,
I left him.

Was I starting to obsess over Roone Thorsen? It sort of felt like
it.

That night I mentally reviewed our parking lot encounter, noting
details I hadn't noticed at the time. His gorgeous eyes. His sexy smile.
His incredibly wonderful smell. Realizing how fluttery he made me feel
inside, I finally admitted that Dayna might be right. Not all high school
boys should be avoided. Was I in love? Not yet. Could I be? Maybe.

And I just didn't know if that was good or bad.

On Tuesday, charcoal gray clouds low on the eastern horizon warned of
a winter storm on the move. By fourth period, bad weather had descended
on McAlister High in the form of a drastic temperature drop as well as
sleet and rain. On one hand I was glad. Winter wasn't winter without
colder temperatures, and with Christmas just around the corner I welcomed
the change. On the other hand, I wished I'd had the smarts to lug an
umbrella to school. Luckily I managed to share one every time I changed
buildings, a total of three, two of them treks without covered sidewalks,
which would've made for a cold, wet walk.

I discovered Roone hadn't been so lucky when I saw him in fourth
period English, the other class we shared. Located in a portable building
near the bus parking lot, it did have a makeshift walkway to it, but that
hadn't helped Roone. Without a coat and soaked through from other trips
to other classes, he entered the portable classroom wearing his usual
oversized, long-sleeved T-shirt. Only today it clung to him like shrink
wrap and revealed a body shape right out of a Bowflex commercial. I did a
double take as did every other girl who saw him walk into the room and
sit near the window.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is the boy cut?" Becca Terrance, who sat
just behind me, had leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

I could practically hear her panting. "Cut. Definitely cut."

Click!

"He must have an incredible work-out schedule." Her gaze stayed glue
to him. "It's a shame he enrolled too late for football. But there's
always track, isn't there? He could definitely do the shot put and maybe
even discus."

Having a dad and brother who worked out regularly, I was used to guys
with muscles. But my female classmates clearly weren't. Or maybe they
were like me and had simply never seen muscles like these. Whichever,
Roone's wet hair and clothes were a sight to behold and earned him a lot
of attention that appeared to be unwanted. As a result, he sort of closed
up and became increasingly withdrawn as the period progressed. When the
bell rang, he shot out of the room. I didn't see him again until study
hall, which was odd and actually a little hard to do in a school as small
as ours.

By the time we sat and opened our books, he appeared downright surly
if a little dryer. Though I felt bad for him, I couldn't resist some
teasing. "Dude...wet looks really good on you."

"Shut up."

I sputtered a laugh that I quickly suppressed, but the harm had been
done. A fast look back revealed that Coach had his eye on us. Luckily a
warning glare was all I got. Opening a book, I pretended to read my
American government chapter. Seconds later, I felt Roone's heavy gaze and
risked a glance at him. We looked each other in the eye for maybe ten
seconds before he got out a notebook and began scribbling on one of the
pages in it.

He tore out the page, neatly folded it, and passed it over:
We need
to talk. After school?

I wrote
yes
and handed it right back.