Over the Moon (7 page)

On Monday, I went back to school. I smiled at Andrew in history. He
smiled right back at me. Yes! Seeing his magnetic smile again was like
watching the sun come out from behind the clouds. It was almost too
brilliant to look at straight on. In math, Jillian Martin spoke to me.
She tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to face her.

"Hi, I'm Jillian." She smiled, and her bright violet eyes sparkled
and crinkled.

"I'm Tiana." I smiled back.

"I know who you are. I heard you're going to the dance with
Jordan. Do you really like him, or are you just being nice?"

"I like him as a friend," I replied with a sigh of regret.

"I thought so. You didn't want to hurt his feelings, right?"

"Well, he is nice, and I couldn't think of a good reason to say
no," I confided.

"I told Andrew it was something like that." What was she saying? Had she discussed me with Andrew?

"You told who?" I knew exactly who, but I didn't want her to
know I was already obsessed with her brother.

"My brother, Andrew. He's in your history and English classes,
I think. Blond hair, blue eyes, and dimples?"

"Of course, but why would he care who I'm going to the dance
with anyway?" I hoped he did care.

"He wanted to ask you, but then he heard you were going with
Jordan. That made him think you were into Jordan." Her words
were exactly what I wanted to hear. This was too good to be true.
The fantasy was back and flourishing.

"I heard he didn't date," I said.

"Oh, that was so last year. Alexis sort of flung herself at him,
and it really freaked him out. He kind of swore off girls for a while.
We're going to try harder to fit in. We are attending the dance, Hannah and Matthew, Luke and me. Andrew won't ask anyone, but I'm
going to make him come. You'll dance with him, won't you?"

"Sure, if he wants me to," I said happily. There was nothing I
would like more, except to actually be going to the dance with him.

"Rule number one: No talking while I'm teaching, Miss Dawson, Miss Martin," Mr. Porter interrupted our conversation.

I couldn't concentrate on math anymore that day. Had he truly
wanted to ask me? I really wanted to believe he did. I loved this
school. I loved life again. I was doing my happy dance in my head.

English finally came. I sat beside Andrew, dropping my books
on the desk to make sure he knew I was there. I wasn't going to let
him ignore me anymore.

"You are an extremely popular girl," he said.

"Me, popular? Why do you say that?"

"All the boys in the junior class wish they were taking you to the
dance this Saturday! "

I laughed. "You must be kidding." I knew he was exaggerating.

"I swear it's true," he insisted.

"So does this mean you're speaking to me again?" I asked.

"I'm surprised you noticed that I wasn't, with all your admirers
following you around," he said bitterly.

"Andrew Martin, are you jealous?" I was being remarkably brave,
but I was on a roll. I had to test Mark and Jeremy's theory.

He gave me a crooked smile. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry. Will you
forgive me?"

"You're forgiven. Don't do it again. I don't really want to go with
Jordan. I only like him as a friend." I probably shouldn't have said
that, but I thought he'd earned a little honesty. After all, he had
admitted he was jealous, and I loved hearing that. The boy with the
most beautiful smile at Hurricane High had asked me to forgive
him for being jealous. This was more than I could have dreamed
of, more than I could have rationally hoped for. It was even better
than any fantasy I could create, even with my vastly overworked and
extremely creative imagination.

"He thinks he's the king of Hurricane High, you know." He was
looking a little happier now.

"I can't believe that! I'm sure you are wrong."

"No, I know he does. He has bragged to every guy here that
you are going to the dance with him. He's been absolutely obnoxious about it," he announced, shaking his head and looking suddenly
sad.

"Oh, I am so wishing I had just said no!" I really wanted to go
back in time and change my answer. If only that were possible.

After class, he walked me to my car.

"I need to ask you something," he said pensively.

"All right. What is it?" I waited nervously.

"Hypothetically, if someone you liked were going to a dance
with someone else, would you go anyway?" He looked directly into
my eyes, waiting for my answer.

"I ... I don't know," I stammered as I got lost in those unfathomable, bright, blue eyes of his.

"Would you want to watch someone else dance with this person
you liked?" He frowned at me.

"Urn, I guess not," I admitted. I certainly wouldn't want to
watch him dance with someone else. I didn't want to even think
about that.

"You are going to the dance with Jordan, aren't you?" He seemed
so miserable; I wanted to hug him. I had to restrain myself. If I
touched him, he might vanish into the too hot, thin air. I might still
be hallucinating this whole outrageous conversation.

"Only because I couldn't think of a good excuse not to go." I
probably shouldn't have confessed to that, but somehow I just
couldn't lie to him.

"If I come, will you dance with me?"

"Absolutely," I said as he opened my car door for me. He took
my hand in his, and I felt a serious jolt of electricity as he gently
kissed it. Who does that? I wanted him to do it again.

"Okay then. I will be there." He turned and walked to his car.
I watched breathlessly as he joined his family. Jillian saw me and
waved. I waved back. My insides were all tingly. Life was good.

I started the engine and drove away, taking deep breaths. My
hands were whiter than usual as I clutched the steering wheel too
tightly to keep them from shaking. What was this power he had
over me? He couldn't be a mere mortal and have this effect on me,
could he?

"Get a grip," I told myself. "You are being idiotic. He's just a
boy."

The rest of the week just kept getting better and better. Andrew
was smiling at me again. He was speaking to me and even flirting
with me in history and English. He walked me to some of my classes
when I could lose Jordan.

Finally, Friday came. In history, he smiled at me and mouthed,
"Wait for me." I did. He walked me to geography, where, unfortunately, Jordan was waiting.

"Will you sit with me at lunch?" he whispered in my ear, send ing shockwaves shooting down my spine. I nodded. Jordan looked
irate.

"What did he want?" he demanded.

"He wants to borrow my notes from history," I lied. I was going
straight to dating hell. I didn't know why I was trying to shield Jordan from disappointment. I had taken this resolve not to hurt his
feelings to a whole new level.

"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night," he said with obvious
relief. "We're going to Rococo's in St. George for dinner."

"Won't we be late for the dance?" I didn't want to keep Andrew
waiting.

"No. It doesn't start until nine. We'll have plenty of time." He
seemed pleased with the arrangements he had made. I was glad Tiffany and Tim would be there. Tiffany had talked nonstop about how
much fun we were going to have, but I wasn't looking forward to
spending that much time with him. It would be a lot of work pretending I liked him and that I was enjoying myself.

At lunch, Andrew took me away from Jordan and pulled out a
chair for me across from where he was sitting. Jordan glared at us.
I acted surprised. Tiffany saw the exchange and sent me a knowing smile. She was enjoying all the drama. Although I had tried to
hide my attraction to Andrew, she had guessed that I was into him,
and I couldn't deny it. Why was I pretending for Jordan's sake? I
never should have accepted his invitation to the dance. It was serious drudgery trying to save his feelings. It would be over tomorrow
night. I thought I could continue the charade until then. I didn't
want to hurt him. There had to be a kind way to end this. I didn't
want to offend God, and I didn't want karma to bite me. I'm a firm
believer in "poetic justice," "casting your bread on the waters," and
"what goes around, comes back around." I needed all the power in
the universe to be on my side if I were going to have my wish come
true.

"He hates me now." Andrew laughed. Then he was suddenly
serious. "I shouldn't steal you away from him. The two of you make a fine couple. He might be a better match for you. Maybe you should
tell me to get lost."

"What? Why should I do that?" There was no way I would ever
do that. Now he was the crazy one.

"I probably should leave you alone. Jordan seems like a good guy,
and he did get to you first. It seems only fair for me to back off and
give him a chance." He frowned.

"But I don't like Jordan. We will never be a couple." I shook my
head defiantly.

"You will be in his arms tomorrow night." His frown hardened,
and I felt a pang of regret shoot straight through my heart.

"And that will be the last of it, I promise," I declared emphatically, realizing again that I had to endure that undesirable date.

"You don't know me, Tiana. I'm not like the other guys here. I'm
probably not who you think I am," he said mysteriously.

"What is that supposed to mean? How do you know what I
think about you? I usually try not to judge people until I get to know
them, and I choose to get to know you." I didn't say anything about
the chemistry that wasn't happening with Jordan or how I could
almost touch it when I was near him. I knew I didn't have a real
choice. In truth, I had to get to know him. I had to figure him out.
He was like this giant magnetic field that I couldn't, or wouldn't,
walk away from. I felt like we were attached to each other by an
unbreakable, invisible, cosmic cord. He might indeed be very different from any boy I had ever known, but I wasn't strong enough to
step away and fight to resist his potent charisma. If he was going to
break my heart, I couldn't stop him. Someday I might be sorry, but
not today.

"This is your last opportunity to tell me to go away. You can still
choose to go sit with Jordan. He's probably the safer option. I, on
the other hand, could be a rather risky alternative." He wagged his
eyebrows at me. I think he was trying to look scary.

I giggled at his attempt to appear sinister. Even without a white
hat, he had "good guy" stamped on his forehead. He couldn't play
the part of a villain and pull it off with any degree of believability.

"You may have made a grave error in judgment," he said, shaking his head at my perceived stupidity, "but I'm glad you did. You're
stuck with me now." He flashed me his best irresistible and most
mischievous smirk, and I had to grin right back at him when I felt
a surge of surreal satisfaction pulse through me. I was pretty confident that being stuck with him could never be a bad thing. Then he
began asking me about my family and my life in Chicago. I wanted
to know more about him, but when he had finished quizzing me, it
was time to go back to class.

Later, in English, I caught him staring at me. I stared back,
and he winked and flashed his gorgeous grin, complete with those
darling dimples. I was doing my best to focus on Shakespeare's A
Midsummer Night's Dream. I was glad I had read it twice already.

He waited for me after class and walked me to my car again.

"Are you still trying to scare me off?" I asked.

"No, I like having you near me and far away from Jordan
McAllister."

"I could tell him I'm sick," I suggested. "It's not a lie. I am getting really sick of him following me around."

"No, I intend to make him hate me more when I dance with you
tomorrow night. We'll make all the other guys jealous too. I'm really
looking forward to it. It should be great fun."

"What other guys?" I opened my eyes wide and raised my eyebrows as sudden paranoia seized me.

"All of them. Don't tell me you haven't noticed them watching
you.

"Now, you are scaring me." I didn't want to have to avoid any
more boys. I just didn't get it. I knew I wasn't that girl. He was making it all up. Was his imagination as creative as mine?

"I've seen the way some girls look at you," I countered. Two
could play this game, and I was relatively sure I wasn't the only one
attracted to him.

"I'm just a pretty face to them," he said, pulling a face at me to
let me know he was kidding about that. "They don't interest me.
Most of them have fluff for brains. You are different. You are smart, funny, beautiful, very brave, and completely unpredictable. The most
amazing thing about you is that you don't realize how truly unique
and remarkable you are." He opened my door. "Now, go straight
home. I'm coming to help you with your homework at seven, with
your permission, of course."

"Permission granted." How could I refuse? Why on earth would
I want to?

"Bye now. Drive safely," he whispered in my ear, and I was glad
I was sitting down. I shivered even though my car was hotter than
an oven set on the self-cleaning temperature (you know, the temperature where the food stuck in there turns to ash). There was definitely something unique about Andrew Martin. He wasn't like any
seventeen-year-old boy I had ever known. In truth, he wasn't like
anyone I had ever known. The fact that he wasn't like other boys was
some kind of gigantic understatement. There was something more
than unusual about this boy. I was determined to find out what that
something was even if it wasn't something I wanted to know. I had
to know the whole truth about Andrew. I am a staunch believer in
the power of truth. Truth could set me free, but I knew that it could
also hurt me. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't kill me.