A Match Made in High School (17 page)

“Seriously,” I said, “would you go out with him? I mean, if you were available?” I was trying not to say Gabe’s name out loud.

Marcie lifted her chin and declared, “Sure. Of course. In a heartbeat.”

It almost seemed like she was sincere. Almost like she really would go out with Johnny Mercer. “But the fact is, he likes
you
, Fiona,” she said. “Oh well. At least I got to learn to swing dance. You know, Johnny’s actually pretty good.” Her eyebrows danced up and down.

“
All right
,” I said. “I get the message. Johnny Mercer is totally crushworthy.
Fine
. I feel like a fifth-grader. Maybe you should pass him a note for me. Do you know he actually
did
pass me a note in calc? Folded up like a football, no less. Have we accidentally slipped back in time to junior high or something? What are you grinning at?”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

I chucked one of my Coke-and-snot-sogged napkins at her, missing on purpose, of course. “Screweth you, Suzy Shakespeare.”

She giggled and slurped the last of her soda.

“You are totally enjoying torturing me, aren’t you?” I said.

“What, is this some kind of payback?”

She got quiet and set her cup down. “Nah. Never.”

“How can you be such a decent person to me?” I asked.

“Because we’re friends.”

She said it exactly the same way Sam had in the shed. And that was how I knew we’d solved the problem correctly. ThE NExT MoRNING, MAR pICkEd ME up FoR SChooL

like always. But she spent the whole time before homeroom making out with Gabe. I saw them kissing, and frankly, it was disgusting. He was giving her the Roto-Rooter action with his tongue so deep that I thought he was going to burrow right inside her throat and pitch a tent in there. Talk about NOCD.

I escaped into homeroom and decided to take this opportunity to pull a twelve-step on Todd. What can I say? I was feeling humble. I spotted him sitting in the back over by the window. I zigzagged my way through the rows and thumped down in the chair next to him. I slid my backpack onto the desk and leaned on it with my elbow. “So, Marcie and Gabe are dating.”

Todd doodled on the cover of his notebook and didn’t look up. “I heard,” he said.

“I found out about it just before the bonfire thing,” I said.

“So?”

“So . . .” I drummed my fingers on the desk. I figured he could fill in the blanks. Apparently not.

He quit drawing but still didn’t look at me. “What do you want, Fiona?”

He called me Fiona. I didn’t like it at all.

“I’m trying to apologize,” I said.

Todd huffed and started doodling again. “Oh yeah? Well, try a little harder. Usually apologies contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ in there somewhere.”

I sat up, took a deep breath, and leaked it out slowly like Maggie Klein did. I breathed in again, glanced around to see who was about to hear this, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m sorry for tearing into Amanda in front of everyone, and I’m going to tell her that when I see her.” I closed my eyes and took another long breath. Opened my eyes. “I’m also sorry for how bad I did in the cheers. Especially for blowing the mount at the end. Marcie had just told me about Gabe the second before we went on, and I was . . . upset.”

Todd stopped drawing and sat, bug-eyed and still as a stone.

“So that’s it,” I said. “I’m . . . really sorry.”

Todd didn’t move.

“Todd?” I said. “Nothing? No response at all?”

He shook himself. “Sorry, did you say something after

‘blowing’ and ‘mount’? I got a mental picture of you having sex, and my brain shut itself down.”

I smiled. That, I knew, meant apology accepted. He said, “I guess I probably shouldn’t have called you names either.”

I held up my hand to stop any apology he might be headed toward. “No, I deserved them.”

196 Kristin Walker

“Still . . .” (Subtext: He was sorry.)

“Whatever . . .” (Subtext: I accept.)

Time for a subject change. Sort of. “So, did you already know that Marcie and Gabe had been together?” I had to find out if he’d known about them all along.

“Nah, not until the pep rally. After you took off, he was all over her. Mauled her like a grizzly bear. I saw them and figured your lesbo lover had switched teams, and that must’ve been the reason for your Night of the Living Dead cheer performance.”

“It was,” I said.

“Still doesn’t excuse you taking it out on Amanda.”

“No, it doesn’t. Not my best moment,” I said. I ran my finger back and forth over the corner of my desk. “At least she must be having fun with this. Seeing me humiliated by my best friend. Who has she told? As if I even have to ask. The whole school. If loose lips really sank ships, that girl could be a weapon of mass destruction.”

Todd leaned to the side and said, “Is this your idea of personal growth?”

I froze. Bit both lips for a few seconds. Then said, “Sorry. Old habits.”

“Hmmm,” he said, giving me a scrutinizing look. He went back to doodling. A couple of girls sashayed into the classroom. A few bleary-eyed guys lumbered in. He said,

“Well, as it happens, Amanda doesn’t know that you want to spread your hot creamy butter all over Gabe Webber’s dry toast.”

I leaned toward Todd and lowered my voice. “Okay, one,

want-
ed
, not want. Two, you’re a pig. And three . . . what do you mean, she doesn’t know? You never told her?”

Todd stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry. “It never came up in conversation.”

I straightened up. “Never came up in conversation?”

He shrugged and kept drawing. “I decided it wasn’t interesting. It’s not like it’s breaking news.” He tipped his head and looked at me. “I hate to shatter your dreams, but the whole school does not care about your lack of love life. You’re not that popular.” Back to doodling.

This time, my mental gears ground to a halt and burst into flames. Why would Todd pass up a perfect opportunity to humiliate me? Especially after I’d ripped Amanda a new one. But he had. That made no sense. Yet all the signs pointed to the absurd possibility that Todd had . . . what? Protected me, too? Was that insane?

The first bell rang. Mr. Tambor came in and started banging stuff around on his desk. One of Todd’s buddies waved to him and sat a few rows up.

I spoke to the floor. “Thanks, Todd,” I said, “for not telling her.”

He swung around to face me. “Well, you can make it up to me. No! Not with a hand job, which I know is what you’re thinking.”

“I just threw up in my mouth,” I said.

He poked me in the arm with the eraser of his pencil. “I want you to come back to the cheer squad.”

I reared back. “I’d rather give the hand job.”

He pantomimed thinking. “Hmm . . . tempting as that 198 Kristin Walker

isn’t, I’ll pass. Look, we have district competitions a week from Saturday, and we need twelve people.”

“Find someone else.”

“We tried to find someone else, but they all sucked. And now there’s not enough time to train someone new.”

“Judith Norton will be out of her cast by then.”

“Nope. Not until the following week. Besides, Princess, to be honest, some of the girls like you. I don’t get it myself, but there you go.”

“Amanda doesn’t like me. Amanda hates me.”

He waved me off. “Amanda doesn’t hate you.”

“Well, she does a pretty good impression of it, then.”

“Amanda doesn’t hate you,” he said. “She’s jealous of you.”

I drew upright and gaped at Todd. “
What
? Todd, listen. Drugs are bad, buddy. You shouldn’t do them first thing in the morning. Wait until after lunch at least.”

Todd unzipped his backpack and started putting his pencil and notebook away. “Think about it. Amanda’s programmed to be perfect. She can never let herself show a single flaw. She always has to look perfect and act perfect. Can you imagine how stressful that’s gotta be? I mean, I know for you it’s a stretch, but give it a shot.”

“You just get funnier and funnier,” I said totally dead-pan.

“But
you
, on the other hand . . .”

I pointed my finger in his face. “Watch where you’re going here. . . .”

He zipped up his backpack and dropped it back on the floor. “You, on the other hand, don’t worry about what people think of you. You don’t give a crap if you look weird or act strange. And I don’t mean those things as insults. I know!

It shocks me too. But I don’t. You say whatever you want. You do whatever you want. Amanda sees you and she can’t process it. She can’t understand how you can be so relaxed about stuff. Inside, I think it pisses her off that she can’t be that way too. Be that free. So she takes it out on the source: you.”

Talk about not being able to process it. Never in my wildest, weirdest, most twisted dreams would I have imagined Amanda Lowell was jealous of me. “If that’s true,” I said, “then I’ve wasted a lot of precious voodoo-doll-making time.”

Todd snorted. “Something tells me you’ll have no problem finding somebody else to use it on.”

“Good point. Speaking of which . . .” I reached out and yanked a few blond hairs out of Todd’s head.

“
Ow
!” he said.

“I’m gonna need these.” I tucked them in my pocket. Todd rubbed his scalp. “Look, I’ll take care of Amanda. Come on, come back to the squad. You know you want to. Besides, you owe me.”

“Owe you? For what?”

He grinned. “The marriage ed budget. I did it and turned it in last week. All by myself. With no help from you. Ergo, you owe me.”

I had totally forgotten about the damn budget. How 200 Kristin Walker

bizarre that Señor Shitslacks had done it on his own. “You know, you’re really coming dangerously close to being a nice person,” I said.

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll remedy that situation immediately,” he said. Marcie skirted into the classroom just as the final bell rang. Mr. Tambor yelled, “
Settle
? Take your
seats
?”

I stood up and swung my backpack onto my shoulder. “I’ll think about the squad, and let you know after counseling,” I said. “See you then.” I started walking over to Marcie.

“Not if I smell you first,” Todd called after me. But I didn’t really need time to think about it. Truth be told, he’d had me at “Princess.”

SINCE IT wAS TuESdAy, Todd ANd I hAd ouR

counseling session later that morning. We got to Maggie Klein’s office at exactly the same time. I pride myself on courtesy, so I gestured for Todd to go through the open door first. But he smiled and made the same gesture to me. So I stepped forward to walk through, and so did Todd, shouldering me into the door frame.

“Terribly droll,” I said, and elbowed him in the ribs. I pushed through the door and sat in a chair. He dropped into the other one.

“Welcome, Todd. Fiona.” Maggie Klein droned. She looked a little worse for wear. Actually, a lot. Her skin sagged at the corners of her eyes. There was no luster in her complexion anymore—it was just drab. And her office smelled like ramen noodles. She’d slowly been slipping in the arenas of fashion and hygiene over the past few weeks. Normally, I’m in no position to criticize anyone’s wardrobe, but even I thought today’s selection of brown sweatpants and a sweatshirt from the Hoover Dam was pathetic. Stacks of those photocopied papers I’d seen before littered the office. I picked up a few at my feet, and just before Maggie Klein snatched them out of 202 Kristin Walker

my hands, I saw what they were. Copies of the letter from my mom’s campaign. Signed copies.

“I suppose you know all about these,” Maggie Klein said.

“I . . . er.”

Todd piped up and started rifling through a pile near him. “Did my parents send one? They said they were sending one. Actually, they said they were each sending one, so there should be two. . . .”

Maggie Klein slapped her hand down on the papers Todd was shuffling. “Yes. I got them. Principal Miller has
kindly
forwarded them all to me.” She tried to straighten a pile, but it slid to the floor, and she just left it down there among the candy wrappers and balled-up tissues.

“Let’s begin. First of all, I want to let you know that the total real-world cash collected so far is $4,846. With half to charity, right now, each winner would get . . .” She shuffled through the junk on her desk, found her calculator, and started punching in numbers.

“It’s $1,211.50,” Todd said.

Maggie Klein huffed and sneered at Todd. Until she hit the equals button. Then her face turned three shades of red. “That . . . that’s, um . . . correct, Todd. . . . Well done.”

I giggled and low-fived him.

Maggie Klein slid the calculator back under the mess and composed herself. She tried to do some deep breathing but ended up whistling like a deflating balloon. She CHAPTER 24 203

slid our marriage ed file in front of her but didn’t bother opening it. “Okay. I haven’t had a chance yet to go over the budget you turned in last week. I’ve been a bit . . . busy. But anyway. I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news. As of today, Todd, you’ve been fired from your job. Luckily, you found part-time work in a women’s shoe store. Your Income Factor has now dropped to 50.”

Todd said, “Women’s shoe store?” just as I said, “Dropped to fifty?”

“Interesting reaction,” Maggie Klein said, like we were some kind of perverted science experiment. “You know, often in this situation it
is
the woman who cares about the drop in income. Whereas the man cares about the drop in status. Well done.”

Well done? Maggie Klein was an idiot, I decided. Three months of counseling and she had come to the stunning conclusion that Todd was, in fact, male, and I was female. Eu-freakin’-reka. Call the Nobel Prize committee.

“Unfortunately, since you decided as a couple that Todd would be the sole wage-earner, you don’t have Fiona’s income to fall back on. If you had, half the cash you earned this month would retain the 150 Income Factor.” She raised one furry eyebrow and bobbled her head several times before concluding with, “Something to think about, eh?”

All I could “think about” was whether or not I should seriously investigate eyebrow waxing, because Maggie Klein obviously never had. She looked like she had a pair 204 Kristin Walker

of woolly bear caterpillars on her face trying desperately to kiss. How had I never noticed that?

Todd swiveled in his chair and put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll figure out a way through this. No! No! I won’t hear of you giving up your passion for carving soap elephants. I know how much it means to you.”

What the hell?

Wait. I got it.

Playtime.

I glared at him and knocked his hand off of me. “Oh, really?” I said. “You do?”

“Didn’t I let you go to that soap-carvers convention?” he said, feigning concern.

“Let me go? I practically had to get on my knees and beg you.”

“Well, Lord knows you’re not on your knees much. But you can’t say I haven’t been supportive.”

Maggie Klein butted in. “Okay, Fiona and Todd. That’s enough.”

I didn’t miss a beat. “Oh yeah? And what about Bobo?

Six weeks I spent working on him.
Six weeks
. And you—you used him to wash your ass!” I buried my face in my hands and pretended to sob.

“
Fiona! Todd!
” Maggie Klein barked.

Todd threw his hands in the air. “One time! One time I make a mistake, and you
never let me forget it
.”

I wheeled around to counter Todd, but he had this CHAPTER 24 205

hilarious look of exaggerated hostility on his face. It was too much. A guffaw gurgled up my throat. I pressed my lips together to stifle it, but it shot up through my nose and I did that backward-snort thing. That put Todd over the edge and he dissolved. We both cracked up uncontrollably. Maggie Klein was not as amused. She pushed up her stretched-out sleeves and crossed her arms. “Very entertaining.” We kept laughing. She settled back into her chair.

“You two should audition for the school play.” We laughed some more. “
All right
. That’s
enough
.” We finally settled down. Maggie Klein pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply.

Just then, we heard Mom on a bullhorn again outside. Apparently, this protest was going to be a daily thing. Mom shouted, “
Hey, ho! Hey, ho!
” followed by the rest of the parents: “
Marriage ed has got to go!
”

Maggie Klein flew to the window, pulled open her blinds, and snarled. She literally snarled like an angry dog. I’d never heard an adult do that before. Only a bratty, cranky toddler once. Her hands trembled. Then so did her voice. “Ou-ou-our time is up for today.” She crossed her office in two steps and swung open the door. “Do your budget. Write in your journals. Goodbye.” We’d barely gotten through the door when she slammed it.

“That was your mom outside, wasn’t it?” Todd said. “I recognize her from the picture in the paper.”

“Yup,” I said, steeling myself for the impending volley of insults. But none came.

206 Kristin Walker

“Cool. So, did you decide about the squad and dis-tricts?”

I couldn’t believe that one, he hadn’t given me any crap about my mother, and two, I was about to forfeit my chance to escape global-size public shame. “Fine. I’ll do it,” I said.

“Hell, I’ve got the contact lenses already anyway.”

“As long as your motives are clear,” he said. “See ya at practice, Princess.”

“Not if I smell you first, Señor.”

AFTER SChooL, ThE BuLLhoRNS FINALLy dIEd dowN. I was walking to practice, enjoying the cavernous silence, when I heard my name called from the other end of the hallway. Johnny Mercer was walking toward me. I felt a warm little stir inside me, I guess because of what Mar had said at the mall. I mean, it’s not every day you run into someone who wants to “bang you, bad.” Even though I was pretty sure that wasn’t true in Johnny’s case. Especially after shooting him down at the bonfire.

The sound of his black boots echoed in the hallway with each step and got louder and louder the closer he came. As he strode up, he stared at me with his deep-set hazel eyes. His cheeks glowed with the pace he kept, and showed the faintest trace of rough, new facial hair.

“Hi Johnny,” I said. “How’s it going?”

In one smooth move, he swung his backpack off his shoulder and set it on the ground. He unzipped it and pulled out my iPod and speaker set. He stood up and flipped back the hank of tousled hair that had fallen over his eye. He handed me the equipment. “Here. I got these back for you.”

208 Kristin Walker

He hoisted up his backpack, zipped it, and slung it over his shoulder. He lifted his chin at me. “Well, see ya.”

“Wait!” I said. I touched the arm of his black leather jacket. I stood on tiptoe for a second to look up into his face.

“Johnny. Wait. Listen, thanks for these. And I’m sorry for being such a bitch at the bonfire. I was just in a really bad mood.”

He ran his fingers through his honey-colored hair and that same piece fell over his eye again. “No biggie. See ya.”

“Johnny—”

“I gotta go, Fiona. ’Bye.” He stalked away down the hall. I watched him the whole way until he turned the corner. The warm little stir inside me congealed into a cold ache. One thing was for sure: Johnny Mercer definitely did not want to bang me. Hell, he didn’t even want to make small talk. Mar must’ve been wrong. Or maybe I’d just been so harsh at the bonfire that he couldn’t get past it. Either way, it sucked. I thought about Johnny the whole way down to the locker room. About everything he’d done for me. How often he’d stood up for me. How many times he’d been there to make sure I was okay. And I felt this overwhelming sense that I’d lost out on something. Or lost something. Of value. And I wanted it back.

But for now, I faced a different sort of atonement. I popped in my contacts and slunk into the gym. I was not looking forward to apologizing to Amanda. I tried to hide behind the bleachers, but Simone Dawson spotted me and skipped over.

“Fiona! I’m so glad you’re back.” She gave me a hug, but I CHAPTER 25 209

just stood there like a moron, because I hadn’t been expecting it. When I finally realized what she was doing, I went to hug her back but she’d already committed to detachment. So I ended up in one of those awkward half-hugging/halfpatting maneuvers—the trademark move of sociopaths and germophobes.

“Thanks, Simone,” I said.

“Oh! Your glasses are gone! Did you get contacts? They look great! Are they tinted ones?”

“Uh, yes, yes, thanks, and no, they’re clear.”

“That’s your natural eye color? Oh, they’re such a rich brown!”

“Thanks, Simone.”

“You could really make those pop with the right shadow and mascara.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But it’d be kinda hard to see if I popped my eyeballs.”

Simone giggled. “Fiona, you are
so
funny.”

“Funny-looking,” I said.

Simone giggled some more. “Oh, you are not.” She grabbed my hand with both of hers and walked backward as she dragged me forward. “Come on—everyone’s glad you’re back.”

Yeah, right. I was
so
sure Amanda would do a spontaneous backflip at my return. But when I got over to the group, she didn’t yell or swear or storm off or anything. She actually acknowledged my existence in a nonhostile fashion. I cleared my throat in an overexaggerated way and said, “Listen, I want to publicly apologize to Amanda, 210 Kristin Walker

and to everyone, for my schizoid wig-out at the pep rally. I had temporarily left Planet Sanity, and some absolutely a-hole Fiona clone was in my place being a total jerk.” I looked at Todd. He crossed his arms and didn’t crack even the smallest smile. I sighed and said, “Okay, it wasn’t a clone. It was me. I was the jerk. I said some really crappy things and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about screwing the pooch on Catch the Fever, too. I hope nobody got hurt. Physically. Or otherwise. And . . . that’s it.”

Everyone watched Amanda for her reaction. She stood there for a second and then nodded once to me. She clapped her hands and said, “Okay, let’s start with Eagle Pride,” and the squad fell into formation for practice. I found my spot on the floor and we got to work. As much as I hated to admit it, Amanda had been right about getting contacts. Not only did they not fall off my face like the glasses did, but I could actually see better. So I made it most of the way through the drills and routines without inflicting too much bodily harm. Okay, I accidentally elbowed Tessa Hathaway in the boob, head-butted Takisha King, and stepped on Simone’s fingers. But that was all in one cheer. Other than that, I mostly just fell on my own ass.