The Queen Bee of Bridgeton (5 page)

Headmaster Collins quickly tired of my incoherent stuttering and told me he was revoking all of my upperclassmen privileges.  That just basically meant I couldn't leave campus during my free periods. Since I never left campus anyway it wasn't really much of a punishment. I had no friends and nowhere to go. Besides, I preferred to explore the grounds of Bridgeton Academy than go out to a sandwich shop or coffee house for a few minutes. There was always something interesting to see on the 1500 acre campus. Sometimes I walked to the stables and watched students take riding lessons. Or I'd go to the fountain outside the observatory and make a wish while tossing in a coin. My wishes always consisted of one or two things. Either to dance with the Russian Ballet next to Natalya
Karleskaya
or to have David Winthrop
notice
me. Either of which would have been a miracle.

Yeah, there was always something to do on Bridgeton's beautiful campus. Staying on it during my free periods was no punishment at all. If possible, I would live there to avoid having to go home to
Venton
Heights.

"Um, Sir?"
I said before he walked away. "Did you find out who hurt
Emmaline
?"

He shook his head. "I've spoken to her every week for over a month. She refuses to talk."

"So that's it? They're just going to get away with it?"

"The people who did this have no honor. Their actions will reveal their true character soon enough."

***

That afternoon, while waiting for Sasha to meet me, I sipped a latte.  I was completely exhausted and thoroughly surprised and proud that I had made it through the entire day without falling asleep in class after staying up so late with her.  I was daydreaming about my audition for The
DiRisio
Academy of Dance in Rome when the oddest thing happened. A boy, a cute boy approached me and just stood at my table. From the green blazer and khakis I knew he was a schoolmate, but it took me a second to actually recognize who he was. He was the boy from the closet two months ago. I checked out his eyes. They were still sad.

"My psychiatrist says I should go out with you," he said out of the blue. There was no 'hi, how are you today' or even 'hi, my name is.' I looked over my shoulder then pointed to myself. He couldn't possibly be talking to me. But he nodded and said, "Yes, you."

"Well, that is the worst pick up line I have ever heard in my life." I took another sip of my latte and tried to ignore his presence.

"That's because it's not a pick up line. It's the truth. Well, actually, he didn't specifically say to go out with you, but he did say to get to know you. He thinks it'll be good for me."

I stared at him in disbelief for a moment. He had taken off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder like a model in some sort of commercial for toothpaste or apple pie.  He looked just that perfect with his crisp white shirt and khakis that looked a little too big, but gave him an aura of relaxed confidence.  He seemed cool, self-assured and…rich except for his shoes.  They were beat up red Converse All-Stars.  They really didn't match the image he portrayed.

Was he serious? This had to be some sort of joke. But he didn't crack a smile. I think he was serious, which meant I had to set him straight.

"Um, no," I said with finality. But I could tell this guy was not used to taking no for an answer.

"And why not?"
He didn't sound surprised or angry. In fact, he sounded
kinda
full of himself. As if any second he was going to elicit the response he wanted.

"Because I don't know anything about you.
Oh, wait, let me correct that. I do know you frequent closets and other sketchy places and do…things with random girls."

"Is that really all you know about me?"

I nodded. "Yes, that's all I know. Is there more?"

He paused for a moment as if he was really thinking about this question. He opened his mouth to speak, but just like the time at the closet nothing came out but a tortured sigh. Something was really bothering this boy. Part of me wanted to find out what it was and help him, but another part of me wanted to get as far away from this high school playboy as possible.

"Listen, Closet Boy, I don't know why you and your shrink are talking about me, but -"

"Closet Boy?
You don't know my name?"

I shook my head.

"You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Should I?"

"God, you're adorable."

"What?" I slammed my latte down on the table splashing some of it on my dance magazine. "Look whatever your shrink is
doing,
tell him it's not working. You got some serious problems."

"Yeah, I know," he said, turning and walking away. "I'll pick you up at seven," he called out over his shoulder.

"No, no you won't!" I yelled after him. "I'm not going out with you. I have to dance tonight." He didn't even acknowledge me.

I was so busy staring at him and wondering what kind of crazy he was that I didn't notice when Sasha arrived.

"Why were you talking to Will Maddox?"

I shrugged. "Is that his name? I had no idea. He just came over here and asked me out."

"What do you mean he asked you out?" Sasha pulled out a chair, plopped down into it, then leaned toward me ready to hang on my every word.

"What part of that sentence is hard to understand, Sasha? I mean he asked me out."

"On a date?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, on a date. Why is that so hard for you to believe?" That was actually a dumb question
cause
it was kind of hard for even me to believe. No one had ever asked me out on a date before. Ever!

"Well, because it's Will Maddox. He never asks girls out. He doesn't have to. Girls throw themselves at him." Sasha leaned back in her chair for a moment and chewed on her thumb knuckle. I went back to flipping through my now damp dance magazine and putting this Will person out of my mind. He was definitely not for me. I had seen with my own eyes how he treated girls. I didn't want to be his next closet conquest. As far as I was concerned, this supposed date with Will was a non issue. It just wasn't going to happen. That was until I saw a spark in Sasha's eye. She was cooking up something. "Do you know what one date with Will can do for your social status?"

"No, I don't know. Who is this guy anyway?"

"He's WILL MADDOX," she said through clenched teeth like I was supposed to know exactly what that meant.

"Sorry, that means nothing to me."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "He's only been at Bridgeton for two years and he's already a legend. He's the star of the basketball team and probably the hottest boy on campus."

"I guess he's
kinda
hot, but David is hotter." I turned the page of my dance magazine and saw what seemed to be a fascinating article on ballet slippers with arch support.

Sasha stared at me with her mouth agape. "I can't believe you're treating this so nonchalant. This is huge, Sonya, huge! We have to figure out what you're
gonna
wear."

"No we don't."

"And you're
gonna
need these," she said, digging into her purse. She handed me some little foil packages.

"Condoms?
I don't need these." I crammed them back into her purse.

"You most certainly do need them. They don't call him Will the Drill for nothing."

Now I was even more convinced that I would not be going out with this boy. "Sasha, I don't need them because I told him no."

"You did what?" she screamed, leaping from her seat. When everyone turned their head to stare at her she regained her composure and sat down demurely. "Nobody says no to Will Maddox."

"Well, just call me
Nobody
." That didn't come out quite right.

***

Pointe class ran a little over that night. It was supposed to end at seven, but Ms. Alexander kept pushing us full tilt well past 7:15. Not that it mattered really. I had nowhere else to be. It did cut into my time to eat dinner before my next class, but considering I only had seventy-eight cents to my name, I really couldn't afford to go buy a meal anyway. All I needed was fifteen minutes or so to hit up the vending machine down the street. That would have to last me until I got home. My stomach grumbled in protest of the vending machine entrée but I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to bother Ms. Alexander for a few dollars, especially considering she already overpaid me for the cleaning and the side classes I taught. I already owed her too much.

I walked out onto the sidewalk and noticed a very attractive blond boy leaning on a black BMW and holding a huge bunch of white roses. At first it didn't even cross my mind that the blond boy was waiting for me, but when he walked toward me, I instantly recognized Closet Boy.

"Here," he said, stuffing three dozen roses in my face.

"What the…why the…how the…" I stuttered.

"It's 7:27. We had a date at 7."

"No, we did
not
have a date. I'm dancing," I said, gesturing to the studio behind me.

"Your
pointe
class ended at 7. You're free until 8 when you teach the adult beginner class."

"You're a stalker. You're a psycho stalker, aren't you?" I took a step away from him back toward the studio.

"Possibly.
Or…maybe I just read the schedule on the door. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that I want to get to know you better."

I turned and took a look at the schedule. Okay, so it did have the class times and my name as the instructor of the eight o'clock class. The question still remained how he knew where I danced in the first place.

"Why?
Why me?"

"Let me buy you dinner…a quick dinner…and I'll tell you."

I clutched my stomach as it made an audible growl.

"I'm hungry and broke, so I'll go with you to an eating establishment and I'll sit with you and I'll let you pay. But it's not a date."

We went to
Kotchy's
Deli three doors down from the studio. I sat at a booth and placed my huge bouquet of flowers next to me, while Will went and grabbed us a bite to eat. When he returned to the table, I dug into the meatball sub he'd bought me without waiting for him to even unwrap his turkey club. That's another reason why I was confident this wasn't a date. If it was a real date with a guy I really
kinda
liked I would've been too nervous to let him actually see me eat. If I ever started dating David I was sure to lose a ton of weight.