Somewhere in the Middle (6 page)

"One of your rejects?" I asked Roone, who'd just gotten to me.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I have Astronomy next and you have to go all the way to
the gym. You don't have time to walk me."

"You don't need a book from your locker?"

"Already have it."

"How many are in this thing?" Roone, who was a half step behind me,
grabbed one of the straps of my backpack and tugged it from my shoulders.
He tested the weight. "Damn, Everly." He slung the strap over his
shoulder.

"I told you--"

"I remember. But what kind of guy lets his girl carry around something
that heavy?"

Now he was a half step ahead. I picked up my pace. "A modern one?"

"Not where I come from."

"And where, exactly, is that?"

"Nowhere near."

Again. Why all the mystery? We got to the steps. Roone jumped over
both. Turning, he held out a hand to me. Not sure what to do, I took it
and descended, feeling ridiculously like a Disney princess. Manners like
his made him stick out at McAlister. And while I was flattered, I didn't
want any of the guys to make fun of him. Or maybe my klutz theory was the
right one. I had on occasion made a fool of myself, and his possibly
knowing that troubled and embarrassed me.

After we'd walked a few steps, I threw out my arm to stop further
progress. "We split here. I'll meet you after class at the door to the
Science and Math building since I'll already be there." I slid my
backpack off his arm.

"Right." Roone turned to leave me, but immediately slowed down.
Peeking around him to see what had his attention, I saw Laurie Peterson
and Jay Rice passionately kissing near the steps we'd just left behind.
My un-boyfriend gave me a speculative glance and then wordlessly moved on
a second later. I did the same.

Astronomy was one of those classes that always flew by, especially
compared to the glacial pace of, say, American government. Everything
about the cosmos intrigued me as much as it did my big brother, which had
to mean we'd both inherited some recessive gene neither of our parents
had. I loved the history, the observations, and the theories--especially
the theories. There were so many unanswered questions. How were Earth and
the planets formed? Was there other intelligent life out there? Were
wormholes real? And what about the fate of our universe, which by most
accounts was steadily expanding? Today it was especially interesting
because of Mr. Thorsen's paper, and though tempted to ask questions
related to his theories, I didn't. He'd told me it was secret, and I
respected that.

When the bell ended class, I stuffed my book into my backpack and
walked out the door, down the hall, and to the entrance that was on the
gym side of the building to wait for Roone. As before, I spotted him
easily, and not just because of the oversized clothing he wore. With the
sunlight gleaming in hair still damp from his shower, he looked like a
mythical god, and I felt a thrill I had no right to feel. It wasn't as if
he were really mine, after all. Everything was just pretend.

He walked right up to me. "Hey."

"Hey. How was PE?"

"Played dodge ball."

I grimaced. "I hate dodge ball. It's not a sport with rules, which is
what physical
education
should be about. It's a legalized venue
for picking on the weak and unpopular. And since I tend to root for the
underdog, that doesn't work for me."

"Get nailed in the first volley, do you?"

The smile tugging at the corner of his lip told me I hadn't fooled
him. "Every freakin' time. Give me a softball, a soccer ball, or a
basketball any day of the week. Heck, I'll even try football."

"I've seen football. Way too rough for girls."

I've seen football?
Well, who on earth hadn't? "I'm headed to
the Arts building. Pay attention to what Mr. Groves is writing on the
board today, will ya?"

He nodded. "Why don't you get out the book you need? I'll take your
backpack with me."

"No way." I stepped out of his reach. "I'll meet you right here. Bye."
I left him.

In graphic arts, we watched a tutorial about a complicated drawing
program we were about to tackle. As interested as I was in the topic, I
shouldn't have had a bit of trouble focusing. But my gaze strayed outside
more than once and landed on the row of windows on the east side of the
Science and Math building. I knew which room belonged to Mr. Groves and
could easily picture Roone sitting at one of the desks, which wouldn't
fit his long legs, meticulously copying more formulas off the white
board. I toyed with the idea of tutoring him in physics, but wasn't sure
if I should offer. I was going to be spending way too much time with him
as it was.

After class, we met where promised and made our way to English, with
Roone once again carrying my backpack. As impressed by his persistence as
I was his manners, I nonetheless hated that he was doing it. My pack plus
his meant a lot of extra weight, but he clearly wasn't bothered by it, so
I stifled further protests. There'd be bigger battles to fight.
Relationships--even fake ones--invariably meant occasional clashes of
wills.

Having chosen my English seat at the start of the year, I now had no
opportunity to change it. That meant we sat on opposite sides of the
room. Mrs. Collins, our teacher, had us open our literature books to the
section on the Romantic Period. We began with her picking someone to read
aloud a poem called "Jenny Kissed Me" by a man named Leigh Hunt. Who'd
she choose? Me, of course. So I read what turned out to be very touching
lines about a guy who counted a young girl's kiss as one of the
highlights of his life. I almost choked up, which was very unlike stoic
me. My voice actually cracked. I refused to look at anyone after I
finished and darted from the room without Roone, though I did wait for
him just outside the door.

"You okay?" He tipped his head down to look me in the eye.

"Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason. Lockers?"

"Yes." We walked to them together, splitting up so I could stash the
backpack he'd just handed to me and get my lunch bag. Then we met up
again and walked to the cafeteria. I went straight to the table Dayna and
Gavin had already chosen, where I began to unpack my food. Plastic bottle
of lemonade, frozen overnight but now thawed to a slush? Check. PBJ?
Check. Chips? Check. Brownies? Dang. I'd forgotten to pack the five I'd
so carefully wrapped in foil the night before--one each for me, Dayna,
Gavin, Sid, and Roone--last of the huge batch I'd made on Friday.

"What's wrong?" Roone slapped his tray on the table, but didn't
sit.

"Geez. Are you psychic or something?" Surely I hadn't looked
that
sad. It was only dessert, after all.

"I am, as a matter of fact."

I sputtered a laugh. "Then
you
tell
me
what's
wrong."

He dubiously eyed my lunch. "You wish you'd brought grown-up
food?"

I solidly punched his arm, ignoring my best friend's hysterical
laughter. "Wrong answer." I next zoned in on her. "Cool it, Day. I had
one for you."

"Made with real sugar?"

"Nothing's more natural than that."

She instantly sobered. "Bummer."

That's when Sid joined us. "What's up?"

I noticed that he'd noticed Roone's presence and now smiled at me.
"Not much." I glanced around and then lowered my voice. "Can I assume
that everyone sitting at this table knows our real status?" I flicked a
finger between me and Roone. Sid, Gavin, and Dayna nodded. "Good." I
caught Roone's eye. "We can relax."

"I'll bet you're getting a lot of curious looks," said Dayna before
biting into a bologna sandwich. I cringed, just thinking of all the
disgusting body parts she was consuming.

Sid grinned. "Killer looks would be more like it. Right?"

"Somewhere in the middle." And that reminded me... "What does this
mean?" I asked Roone, tucking a finger through his rubber wrist
bracelet.

"It's a family joke."

"Ah. You know, I'm thinking we should talk while we have the chance.
I'm hopelessly clueless when it comes to you." I thought for a second.
"I've met your dad. Tell me about your mom."

"She died when I was ten."

I slapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh God. I'm so sorry. I had no
idea."

"How could you?"

Clearly aware on my embarrassment, Dayna picked up the slack. "Any
more at home like you?"

"Jon," Roone said, a forkful of very healthy salad halfway to his
mouth. "My brother. He's twenty-four."

I took over. "He lives with you and your dad?"

"Yeah. He's taking classes at the community college."

"Do you have a job?" I next asked.

"Not yet, but I'd like to get one if...well... Um, do you?"

"Not a real job, though my mom pays me for all the housework, laundry,
and cooking I do." I explained her status. "I also run errands for my
Nana since my dad stole her car."

Roone gave me a look. "Your father stole your grandmother's car?"

I laughed. "Not literally. He retired his mother from driving because
she'd had two wrecks in four weeks and her insurance canceled her.
Believe me, it was time. She's almost ninety and can't half see. We're
lucky she hadn't killed someone already. But taking away a loved one's
driving privileges is very traumatic for the driver and for the person
having to do it, so it took Dad a while to get up the nerve."

"Was she upset?" asked Sid, who knew Nana well and apparently hadn't
heard the story.

I took a long swallow of my icy drink before answering. "Not so much.
She knew it was for the best. And besides, she has me to do her running.
Ow, ow, ow!" I pressed my fingertips to my forehead, lost in several
seconds of excruciating pain resulting from drinking my frozen lemonade
too fast.

"Are you okay?" Roone stared at me in visible alarm.

"Brain freeze. Whew." The agony began to recede.

"What's that?"

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to look at him. I did the talking. "You
don't know what brain freeze is?"

"Noooo."

I explained it. "Surely that's happened to you."

"Oh yeah. Lots of times. I've just never heard it called that."

"Where are you from?" asked Gavin, his mouth full of pizza.

I mouthed the words as Roone told them. "Nowhere near."

Geez.

Roone changed the topic from our mutual trivial pursuit right after
that, and I let him even though I still had a zillion questions. Guess he
thought we knew enough to get by. Or maybe he preferred fewer
witnesses.

In study hall, I checked his physics homework once he'd finished and
corrected several mistakes. Clearly, he just didn't get it. When the
final bell rang that Thursday, we walked to the parking lot together.

After I unlocked my car and opened the door, he tossed my backpack
into the passenger seat. "We did okay today, don't you think?"

"I do."

"But we should probably..." He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly
over mine. "Just for appearances."

"Right," I said, my voice oddly calm considering that my heart rate
had just gone from seventy-something to triple digits.

Roone stepped aside so I could slide behind my steering wheel. "Meet
you here tomorrow morning?"

"Yes." I shut the door, started the engine, and soon left him walking
to his own ride. Though things had gone well, I was way relieved day was
done.

That night I typed more of Thorsen's paper and made significant
progress. I didn't want to take too long with it since he really wanted a
NASA job. But I didn't want to mess it up, either.

After I went to bed around eleven, I lay there for a while listening
to my iPod and thinking about Roone. In little ways he was such a
mystery. I had a feeling any quirks resulted from having moved to
McAlister from NowhereNear, which had to be in a state very different
from Alabama, possibly on the West Coast, based on what I knew of the
people there.

Of course, my knowledge was limited, since our family never traveled
far from home, and I was relying on the stereotypes presented in movies
and TV. But if that were true, wouldn't he have some kind of tell-tale
accent? Or maybe he was from up north. I knew some of those states had
clusters of people from countries like Sweden and Norway, and Thorsen was
a name that could've originated there.

Friday was pretty much a repeat of Thursday, though our fellow
students seemed more accustomed to seeing Roone and me together. I still
got some hard looks. I blew them off. That afternoon before we got to our
cars, he asked a question I'd been planning to ask myself.

"Should we come to school together?"

"Probably."

"Then I'll pick you up Monday morning. Where do you live?"

"Actually, everyone in this school knows how I feel about my car." We
were right beside the Trans Am by then. "So why don't I pick you up? Much
more believable."

"Only if I pay for the gas."

"Deal, but only because she's a guzzler." A drawback of classic cars.
"What's your address?" He gave it to me. I gave him mine and then hugged
him goodbye instead of kissing him as I'd done before. When I tried to
step away, I couldn't. His arms were that tight around me. And when I
looked up at him in surprise, he brushed his lips over mine.

"Just for appearances."

"So you've said."
Ahem.
Oddly disconcerted I slipped out of his
arms. "Have a nice weekend."

"You too."

We parted.

I finished up the paper around nine Friday night. Very pleased that
I'd managed it so quickly, I slipped on some decent clothes and
impulsively drove to Roone's, using the GPS on my phone. Though McAlister
wasn't exactly huge, there were still areas I wasn't familiar with, most
of them newer housing additions on the good side of town.