Shucked (3 page)

“Perfect,” she said. “Then it’s
decided.” A smile spread across Mrs. Jordan’s face. It echoed on mine. Not only
was I being invited to join their martial arts team, but I bet she was about to
make me captain.

“I’m honored,” I said.

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Jordan clapped me
on the back. “You’ll be a great addition to our cheerleading squad.”

How many circles of hell did Dante
discover?

Chapter Four

In a stupor, I walked through the
halls to math class. Cheerleader? Me? I wanted to die, but the school was only
one story. Not enough to jump off and splatter my brains on the asphalt. I
didn’t see any sharp objects either. Why did I leave my ninja stars at home?

And now I had to face math too? I
prayed for a tornado or anything to whisk me away from this school. Instead, a
boy stood in the doorway, blocking my entry to the classroom.

His back to me, all I could see was
his stringy blond hair. I had the strangest urge to run my fingers through it -
fingers covered with shampoo, that is. I shuddered at the grossness of it.
What? Did he just get off the tractor before heading into school?

“Excuse me.” I nudged him with my
knee as I ducked under the outstretched arm of the boy next to him. The other boy
moved, maybe about a centimeter, as he turned his head to look down at me. Then
I was struck.

Oh, Aphrodite, his eyes alone forced
my stomach to plummet down to my toes. Gorgeous, dark brown Asian eyes. Who was
this boy and what planet did he come from? He looked unlike every other midwestern
homegrown pod person in this high school. My jaw dropped. My brain scrambled.

“
Annyong
hashimnikka
.” I wanted to hit myself on the head with a blunt object.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, speaking Korean instead of English.

“Huh?” he asked, a smile spread across
his face. Dimples, there were dimples. “Did you just tell me good afternoon in
Korean?”

I nodded.

“That’s cool.” He reached down and
put his arm around my shoulder. “How’d you know I’m Korean?”

“I lived there for a year,” I
stammered, struck by his eyes.

“My parents taught me a little here
and there when I was growing up. Too bad there isn’t an opportunity for me to
learn more with the Korean adoption groups in Chicago. There isn’t enough free
time on the farm for that.”

My knees quivered as he led me over
to an empty desk. What was wrong with me? Did my exile to cheerleading turn me
into a weak-kneed teenage girl? I dropped my math book on the desk and gazed up
at him.

“Long day?” he asked. “You look a
little glassy eyed.”

Buddha give me strength. It was
obvious. He knew.

“Leave her alone, Alex.” Becky elbowed
her way between us. His arm slipped off my shoulders, leaving my skin hot and
tingly. I wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden.

Maybe my vomiting fears were about to
come true.

Alex turned around and skulked to the
back row. He struck up a conversation with a geek next to him. A girl geek. Jealousy
gnawed at my gut. I might need to kill Becky for sending him away.

“Sorry about Alex,” Becky said,
rolling her eyes. “He’s such a player.”

“You think he’s a player?” I asked.
“Really?”

“He’s dated almost every girl in
school.” Becky drew quotes in the air when she said dated.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I
asked, eyeing him again. He leaned over closer to the geeky girl and twirled a
bit of her hair around his index finger. She giggled. I reached to my belt for
a sword before I realized I wasn’t in taekwondo and that I wasn’t allowed to
hurt unarmed geeks.

“He’s a serial dater. He’s different.
He’s hot. He knows it. Everyone has fallen for him at one time or another. Anyway,
Alex is trouble. Stay away from him.”

Becky settled into the desk next to
me. She flipped her braids over her shoulders, opened her math book, and pulled
her calculator out of her Hello Kitty backpack.

“Did you ever date him?” I had to
know. I’d turned into a monster, might as well dig for dirt.

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” she
said. Becky turned to face the blackboard. Avoidance. Again. This girl had
something to hide.

“And?” I asked.

“And nothing.”

“More.”

“There isn’t any more.”

“Liar.”

Becky sighed. She glanced at me out
of the corner of her eyes.

“Fine.”

Then he stepped into the room. My
teacher. There was something familiar about him. I squinted my eyes,
concentrating on his face. Then it struck me. He was my mom’s ex-boyfriend, the
one in the overalls.

What I had pieced together from
sneaking glances at her yearbooks last summer was that they’d dated for all
four years of high school. Then they went off to college together. Jon an education
major, and my mom an archaeology major.

I didn’t know why they broke up. I
always assumed my mom cheated on him. That’s the kind of thing she’d do. In
fact, I found it hard to believe she’d stayed with him as long as she did.
Mom’s never been known for her longevity when it came to relationships. Even
her relationship with my dad was screwed up.

My mom’s ex-boyfriend. And he
interrupted my conversation with Becky. Annoying.

“Welcome, sophomores, to the toughest
math class of your life! We’re starting out with sine. Can anyone define it for
me please?”

I could see what my mom liked about
him. He reminded me of Indiana Jones. At least when Indiana Jones was young,
back in the Stone Age. I decided I’d call him Illinois Jon.

“Tabitha? Do you know the answer?” he
asked, staring at me.

“No, I don’t.” Wow, nice of him to
single me out on the first day. I clenched and unclenched my fists in my lap. “I
spent last year in South America studying the Yanomamo tribe. They don’t have math
there. But I can teach you which plants make great hallucinogenic drugs.”

A few people laughed, but most stared
at me in silence. Was it possible I went too far? Crap. I’d dug myself in too
deep and my personality didn’t allow me to back down, even I knew I’d stepped
over a line. Instead of apologizing, I stared him down.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. I
knew it. Detention the first day. Mimi would kill me. Then a most unexpected
thing happened. Illinois Jon burst into laughter.

“You are your mother’s daughter.” He
shook his head, a touch of his dark hair flopped over his eyes as he turned his
head, scanning the rest of the classroom. “Anyone else?”

I let out a breath, hoping no one saw
me. That was close. Too close. I was in their world and if I didn’t learn to
assimilate, I might not survive.

“Sine is defined as the ratio of the
side opposite the angle to the hypotenuse.”

I didn’t need to look behind me to
know that was Alex. Brilliant and hot. I was in trouble.

“And I think Miss Smith just found
her tutor,” Illinois Jon said. “Will you two see me at my desk after class?”

I heard Becky snort. Great. She still
hadn’t told me the deep dark secret of her relationship with Alex. I needed to
know what happened. I also needed to know if it was okay with her if I snared
him in a trap and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. I didn’t need to piss
off my first friend over a boy.

And if she did care? Um, yeah, I
wasn’t ready to answer that question yet.

When class ended, I realized math was
a foreign language I would never master. I spent the entire period trying to
make sense of it, but every other word sounded like chanting monks on cd,
boring, bland and nonsensical. Real monks chanting in a cathedral in Paris by
candlelight, now that was a different story.

“I’m coming over to your house
tonight,” Becky whispered in my ear as she packed up her math textbook. “We’ll
talk. Until then, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I don’t know you well enough to know
what that is,” I said, painting on my most evil grin. “Besides, how are you
going to get to the farm? It’s not like you can skip down the sidewalk or
anything.”

Mimi and Gramps lived about five
miles out of town on a deserted patch of land surrounded by soybeans and corn. I
thought the closest neighbor was a mile away. I wasn’t sure how far that was by
how the crow flies, but I’d bet my grandparents could tell you.

“I’ll drive.”

“You have your license?” I asked.
“Not fair.”

“Just got it last week. I’m one of the
oldest in our class, but it’s not like everyone around here hasn’t been driving
since they were twelve. It’s a farming community. Most of the boys have been
helping in the fields since they were tall enough to touch the pedals of the
combine.”

I imagined Alex driving a combine.
Dirty. Sweaty. Who knew I’d ever find combines hot?

“Sounds good,” I said, yanking myself
out of the hot farm boy fantasy. “See you tonight.”

Becky slung her bag over her
shoulder, but not before she pointed at Alex and shook her head no, her braids
flying through the air like nunchucks. I’d hate to get smacked by one of those.
She was relentless, but that was okay. I liked having a friend who looked out
for me. I spent so much time on my own the last few years and my friends became
my family. Too bad I never stayed in one place longer than nine months and most
of my friends didn’t have Internet access. They lived amazingly simple lives
compared to this place.

I tried to ignore Alex as I
approached Illinois Jon’s desk. I knew he was behind me. I could smell him. One
half farm boy, one half hot teen boy. He smelled like sweaty earth. Yum.

Don’t knock the smell of sweat, by
the way. After spending years studying taekwondo, sweat was a smell I’d become
used to and learned to love. My adrenaline never pumped higher than when I sparred
and sweat. It’s good. Trust me.

My mom’s former flame’s desk was
neat. Maybe that was why mom dumped him, because he was too clean. Our apartments
were always a mess and she never cared. I don’t think I’ve ever made a bed in
my life.

“Nice to meet you, Tabitha.” He took
my hand in his and looked hard at me, to the point where I felt a little
uncomfortable. Was he trying to find my mom in my face? He’d have a hard time.
I didn’t look a whole lot like her.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I said,
yanking my hand out of his.

“How’s your mom?”

“I don’t know. I just got a postcard
from her telling me I couldn’t come with her because the region is too
dangerous for kids. She’s probably fine. Almost everyone she’s ever met is
afraid of her, so I can’t imagine she’s in any danger.”

Illinois Jon smiled. That crooked
smile again. I wondered if my mom still thought about him or if that picture of
the two of them hidden deep in her wallet sat forgotten.

“Sounds just like my Maggie,” he
said. Then he cleared his throat. Obviously he still thought about her. I
glanced at his left hand. No wedding ring. Was it possible he still pined for
her after all those years? Creepy, but romantic creepy.

“Alex,” he said, motioning him over
from a couple of jocks in the doorway. Wow, the boy went from hitting on a
geeky girl to chatting with jocks. Where did he fit in?

Alex bounded over in two giant steps.
I was impressed. Not many Asian guys I’d met stood taller than five foot eight.
Alex topped six feet, if not more. He stood a little too close to me. Close
enough to make me uncomfortable, which was kind of cool.

“How can I help, Mr. Fenton?” he
asked. The flirtation in his voice was gone, replaced by a goody-goody demeanor.
Alex was good, really good. I could see why he’d been able to charm every girl
in school. The boy was a chameleon.

“Tabitha will need a tutor to catch
her up.”

I snorted and my hand covered my
mouth.

“I’ve never had any advanced math. I
think that catching up is a little optimistic.” I may have pretended not to be
afraid of teenagers, but I couldn’t fake knowing math. Not even close.

“Can you add?” Alex asked.

I couldn’t help myself. The smirk on
his face sent me over the edge. My reflexes acted out. Really it wasn’t my
fault when I grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back and angled it to force
him to his knees. I’ll give him credit, he didn’t whimper…too much.

“Tabitha!” Illinois Jon shouted,
jumping over his desk to come to Alex’s rescue. Okay, so maybe he ran around
it, but jumping over it makes for a better visual, doesn’t it? “Let him go.”

My fingers released their grip on
Alex’s arm and elbow. Sure, I had a bad temper. I knew that, but I’d never reduced
a six-foot boy of staggering deliciousness to a kneeling supplicant.

“It’s cool,” Alex said, shaking his
arm out, but I could see from the expression on his face that it wasn’t. His
smirk tightened into a frown and his eyes narrowed. He massaged his elbow.
Maybe I’d gripped him a little tighter than I realized.