Adorkable (21 page)

“You mean…”

“Yes, yes, I mean the ones with Yoda and Skytalker and all those freaks.”

I grinned. “It’s Skywalker.”

“Whatever.”

“But you never agreed to watch them before—and you know how much I hate make-up.”

“This is an emergency,” Hooker said, looking me over. “It’s all about give and take, Spitz. God, just look at that hair. I’m going to have to spend like an hour alone on that frizz.”

Actually, it took more like thirty minutes.

Once I’d showered, I let Hooker do her thing. Hair came first, tackling what she called “the danger zone,” then make-up, which took another thirty. She went a bit heavy on the eyeliner if you ask me, but I wasn’t arguing. Hooker had never watched any of the episodes before. “Superheroes are one thing,” she’d said. “Talking robots and a full-grown man in a Big Foot suit is another story.” I’d told her a thousand times that Chewie was not in fact a relation of Big Foot, just a Wookiee slave turned smuggler, but she’d refused to listen. By the end of tonight, she’d understand.

Finding the right clothes took another hour and a half since Hooker said the choices were slim. “Hideous,” was the word she used, but Hooker was one of those people who had no filter, so I let it slide.

“Phew,” Hooker said, swiping a hand across her forehead. “You actually look human again. Just look at yourself, Spitz. You are one hot mama.”

Looking in the mirror, I thought the skirt was a little short, the top too tight, the heels ridiculous and the make-up just silly, but I didn’t say anything. Hooker had worked hard to make me look this slutty.

“Thanks, Hooker,” I said instead. “You did great.”

“Yeah, I know.” She rested her chin on my shoulder, smiling at our reflection. “I’m a miracle worker. Let’s go downstairs and show Martha.”

Mom nearly dropped the cookies she was taking out of the oven when she saw us.

“Sally, where did you get those clothes?”
Me
, I corrected mentally. When she saw me. “That skirt is…it’s…”

“It’s hot, right?” Hooker said, nodding.

“It’s…something,” Mom said finally.

“Thanks?” I shook my head then turned to Hooker. “So where do you want to start? Technically,
Episode One: The Phantom Menace
is the beginning, but one through three was pretty much crap in comparison to four through six. I say we start with
Episode Four: A New Hope
. That’s the best, original cast, first to hit theaters. What do you think?”

“I, ah…” Hooker looked to Mom.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “Mom, you can watch, too, if you want. Hooker had this whole idea for a Girls Night, and we’re going to watch
Star Wars
.”

“Well…” Mom said, placing the last cookies onto the rack to cool. She refused to meet my eyes. “I’ve kind of got something...”

“What?” I asked just as the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Hooker and Mom said at the same time.

Slowly, I followed them to the door, suspicion gnawing at me.

As Mom opened the door, my fears were confirmed.

“Hello,” Mom said, reaching out, “you must be Ash?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ash said as they shook hands. “And you must be Sally’s mom. My dad told me you were beautiful.” Looking over her shoulder, he waved. “Hey, Spitz.”

Mom blushed and tittered while I pulled Hooker aside.

She looked so downright pleased with herself; I wanted to slap her.

“Hooker,” I growled. “What is this?”

“I told you,” she said coolly, “it’s an intervention. Martha agrees with me. You’ve got to get back on that horse.”

“I’ve never ridden a day in my life.”

That got me an eye roll. “I mean dating. We’ve got to get you over Becks, and the only way it’s going to happen is for you to find somebody new. “

“But it’s only been a few days,” I argued.

“And that’s plenty of time to wallow in self-pity. We’ve got to snap you out of this funk,” Hooker declared, then said again, “Your mom agrees.”

“Mom?” I repeated, watching her and Ash out of the corner of my eye. It looked like they were old friends.

“She knows Ash’s parents from high school.” Hooker shrugged. “When she asked me about him, I said he was alright, good soccer player, great looks, decent car. We decided you two would make a good match.”

I stared at her in horror. I’d had my suspicions, but this was my first time seeing them in action. Hooker and my mother, two matchmakers on a mission. My worst fears confirmed.

“I won’t do it,” I said, crossing my arms—or at least trying to. This shirt was so tight I couldn’t even do that without ripping a seam. Instead I settled for fists on hips.

“Yes, you will,” Hooker countered. “If you don’t, you’ll hurt Ash’s feelings—and just look at how good he is with Martha.”

When I looked over, Mom had her head thrown back, laughing at something Ash said like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“Fine,” I said, snagging my fleece from the coat rack. “But I’m wearing the snuggie.”

Hooker paled, opened her mouth, but then Mom said, “Come on, Lillian. Let’s leave Sally and Ash to their date.” When she winked at me, I tugged the snuggie over my shoulders in retaliation. Mom simply shrugged, stepping out onto the porch with Hooker bringing up the rear.

After they were gone, Ash stepped forward and nodded at my attire. “Yoda. Nice.”

I rolled my eyes and led him into the living room.

Being alone with Ash wasn’t really so bad. Not bad at all, actually. He told me he’d seen all the movies, didn’t get mad when I quoted lines and didn’t even comment on my singing along with the credits. He was pretty much silent throughout—which was how I liked it. That way we could pay attention to the movie. We talked some afterward, but he seemed to be a bit pre-occupied. I pulled out all my tricks, talking about the nerdiest, most annoying tidbits I could think of (“Did you know Luke Skywalker used to be Luke Starkiller?” “Were you aware that Chewie’s appearance was based off of an Alaskan Malamute?” “You know, John Williams also composed the scores for the first three Harry Potter films. My favorite was Hedwig’s theme. It goes like this...”), but nothing seemed to put him off.

As I walked him out, Mom and Hooker pulled into the driveway. They didn’t get out of the car, and I knew they were watching us. Ash seemed to know it, too.

“So,” he said, glancing over his shoulder then back at me, “what do you think they expect us to do?”

“Don’t know.” I shrugged. “Why’d you agree to this anyway?”

“Like I said, Spitz, I’m into older women.”

Just like before, I blushed, and he grinned.

“But besides that,” Ash went on, “I had something to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at school?” I asked.

“I tried, but it just seemed like you weren’t all there.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry about what went down with Becks.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, well…” A small breeze fluttered the ends of his dirty blond hair as he nodded to himself. “A kiss should satisfy them, I think.”

“What do you—?”

Before I could finish, Ash had leaned down to my cheek, placing a soft kiss just next to my temple and sliding something from his pocket into my hand.

“Thanks for tonight, Spitz.” Then in a voice barely audible, he added, “If you want to do something about Becks, let me know.”

With that, he pulled back and walked away.

I was frozen in place.

“
Oooh
, that was so cute,” Hooker said, gliding up to me. “The temple kiss, classic gentlemanly behavior. One point, Ash. What’d he give you anyway?”

With stiff fingers, I opened the note, staring as I realized I hadn’t imagined what I’d heard.

Hooker frowned. “What’s it say, Spitz? You know I can’t read German.”

My voice sounded as if it came from a distance. “It says, ‘Meet me outside Chem Lab, tomorrow at six o’clock.’“

“Demanding,” she said with a nod. “I like it.” When I didn’t respond, she looked at my face. “You okay, Spitz?”

I honestly didn’t know.

What I’d heard Ash say before, what he
had
said, wasn’t exactly, “If you want to do something about Becks, let me know.” That was the English translation.

What he’d said was: “Wenn ich mich um Becks kümmern soll, sag Bescheid.”

At the party, I’d never once stopped to consider. My emotions had swept me away on a wind of disappointment, anger and finally exhaustion. The ten other people who took German had trouble stringing two sentences together, and besides, they weren’t even there (besides Hooker). It’d been a relief to tell my secret, and
not
tell it at the same time.

There was just one problem: Someone at the party had understood every word.

And he had absolutely no reason to keep quiet.

Where was he?

Pacing the width of the hall, I looked right and left. Ash’s note had said to be here at six—an ungodly hour, especially since I’d gotten next to no sleep last night. My nerves had kept me awake, tossing and turning, until I just gave up. The bad thing was that gave me plenty of time to think up all the ways this meeting could go sour. When I got to one hundred, I stopped counting.

I re-checked the note then looked at my cell.

Great. He was already five minutes late.

My footsteps echoed off the tile in the empty place. I’d never been inside Chariot High when it was this deserted. It was a little eerie. When I’d driven up, there were seriously only three other cars in the lot. Probably janitorial staff.

I checked the time again. 6:07a.m.

Fantastic. Ash was blowing me off. He’d probably decided it wasn’t worth it to drag his butt out of bed, even though he’s the one who set the time. Serves me right for putting my faith in a guy whose name was one letter away from ass.

At that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed my shirt, jerking me backward.

The space was dark, cramped. I couldn’t see three inches in front of me but knew I wasn’t alone. I was about to start screaming to high heaven, had drawn in a breath, when the light clicked on.

“Morning, Spitz,” Ash said with a grin. “Sleep well last night?”

I frowned, taking in my surroundings. My sleep-deprived mind took a second to recognize where I was, but once I did, I nearly let lose a string of hysterical laughter. It was the same storeroom I’d pulled Becks into, where I’d asked and he’d agreed to be my F.B.F. Now Ash was looking at my face with the power to expose me, his eyes far too assessing. It didn’t get much more ironical than that.

“So,” I said, leaning back, playing it cool, “you speak German.”

“Ja,” he said, taking up the same position on the opposite wall. “My grandma and grandpa are from the old country, spent every summer there since I was two. ‘Stryker’ is German, you know.”

Mentally, I cursed. We’d gone over German surnames back in sophomore year. Why hadn’t I paid better attention? It might’ve saved me from this whole sticky situation.

I met his gaze straight on, switching easily to the other language. “
Du hast also
...”

“...
alles verstanden
,” he replied. “
Jedes einzelne Wort.
Honestly, I speak German better than I do English.”

My heart sank. I was good, but Ash didn’t even have to pause. He articulated both with spot-on diction and pronunciation, barely taking a second to change from one to the other. I’d known he understood, but having him say so was like getting blindsided a second time.

“I know that you and Becks were never really going out,” he continued airily. “I know that you guys had some kind of messed-up relationship that was supposed to be fake—but it wasn’t for you. How could it have been? You’re in love with the guy.”

I slowly crossed my arms, using the time to get my voice back. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow.

“And what do you plan to do with the information?” I said.

“That depends.” Ash had a gleam in his eyes.

“On what?”

“On you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Listen, Spitz. Even if Becks didn’t have the balls to ask you out for real, I do. I know you’re not over him yet, but I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

I was totally thrown. What was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” Ash was shaking his head at me, like it was obvious. “I telling you I’m interested. Have been for a while.”

“What?”

“Were you always this dense, or is this a new development?” Ash pushed off the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

I glared at that.

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” His eyes widened comically.

The words hung there suspended as my jaw hit the floor. I wasn’t sure who looked more surprised, me or Ash.

He cleared his throat. “You’re a little out there, but I like that.”

I shot him a questioning look. He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he meant.

Ash sighed, shoving a hand though his hair once again. “I like you,” he said baldly. “I know you’re still into Becks, but I’m willing to give it a go if you are. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least we could show Becks what he’s missing. Right?”

“It won’t work,” I said automatically.

“Why not?”

With a heavy sigh, I dropped my arms. Ash Stryker asking me out was unbelievable, but even more mind-boggling was his offer to help me with Becks. Unfortunately, even if he did, it wouldn’t do any good.

“Becks doesn’t like me that way.” I shrugged. “I guess you missed that part. He’s always just seen me as Sal, not a guy but not really a girl either. He doesn’t want me.”

“Are you serious?” I looked up at his incredulous tone. “Spitz, he wants you. Trust me. What guy in his right mind wouldn’t?”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “But you’re wrong.”

He crossed the space between us and took my hands, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t get it. You don’t understand how guys like Becks operate. Spitz, you’ve got to show him that you’re desirable, that you won’t wait around forever.”

Ash made it sound so easy. Like all I’d have to do is parade some guy in front of Becks, and
Poof
! Ta-dah, he’d realize he loves me and we’d live happily ever after.