Freshman Year (11 page)

“Thanks,” I say and smile sincerely. And it's right about then I realize I seem to be into any kind of positive attention, girl or boy. When have I become such a player?

“Oh, this is for you, too.” He hands me the sweating soda.

I slurp down a big gulp to show my appreciation and my eyes water from the fizziness. “Thanks,” I say, trying to hold back a burp.

He takes the drink from me so I can walk with my crutches, and as we stroll he asks me more questions than I thought teenage boys were capable of asking. He starts with the simple ones: “How's your ankle?” And eventually goes into more personal ones: “Do you have a big family? What does your mom do? Have you seen Fearful Gnats in concert?”

When I tell him about my family, I say, “It's just me and my mom.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” he says, I guess remembering what happened to my dad. “So, who's your favorite teacher?” he asks, trying to recover.

“Oh, Mrs. Schwartz. Hands down.”

“Yeah, she's pretty stellar,” he says, and I like that he can keep up with my sarcasm. “So, you ever hiked up Sabino Canyon at night?”

I wonder if this is his way of suggesting we do so, but I'm not ready for that, so I say in a parental tone, “You should know better than to hike at night. Haven't you ever heard of mountain lions, rattlesnakes, and scorpions?”

He laughs. “But that's what makes it exciting.” Then he asks, “So, how do you like Gila so far?”

I don't feel like I can answer this question without sounding schizophrenic, so I just say, “It's cool. How about you?”

“At first I thought it was sort of lame. I mean, the same people hanging out with the same people. But, you know, it's not like that all over. Like, I was really surprised to see you in guitar.”

“Yeah?” I feel that flirty urge inside me again, so I go with it. “Why's that? Girls shouldn't learn how to jam?”

He laughs again and I'm pleased with myself. “No, I mean…you're just…I mean, when you were at Doolen, you just mostly seemed interested in making the rest of us feel stupid. And I mean that in a nice way.”

For the first time ever, I'm glad to shed my nerdy persona. “Yeah, well, people change, I guess.”

By the time we reach the double doors of the gym, I've told him a thousand times more about my life in our ten minute stroll than I've ever told Keeta and decide that he's actually a pretty cool guy, as far as guys go.

“Well, here you are,” he says.

“Yep,” I say. I look inside the gym and see Kate with the rest of the freshman team warming up. “So, thanks again for getting my stuff. And the soda.” I motion toward the drink in his hands.

“Sure.”

“So,” I say, not knowing how to end it.

“Um, Abbey?”

Okay, he's either going to tell me that I suck at guitar and should quit while I'm ahead or he's going to ask me out. Either way, I'm breaking out into a sweat.

He clears his throat. “Uh, you don't seem the school-dance type.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It is. And, well, I don't really do dances either. So I'm not going to ask you to the Spring Fling.”

I laugh because this is nothing like I've seen on TV. “Well, thanks for the heads up on that.”

“But do you want to go to a concert with me?” His smile is frozen on his face, as he waits for my reply.

“Uhhh,” is all I can say. “I, uh…”

“There's this band. Death Becomes Her. And there's this chick in the band. She plays guitar. You remind me of her.”

“Really? Wow, um…well, I…”

His smile slowly thaws.

God, just say something, Abbey!
“It's just that, I…”

“Hey, it's cool. You're not into it. That's okay,” he says and opens the gym door for me. We walk in and he puts my stuff down against the wall.

Then I have an epiphany right there in the gym. I realize no boy has ever asked me to do anything and this might not ever happen again. Ever! “Wait, Jake.” I grab his hand, and I think we're both momentarily shocked into stupidness from the unexpected contact of our flesh. Then I say, “That sounds cool.”

“Nice,” he says and gently kicks his foot against my good foot. “Our Cons look sort of good together.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“See you tomorrow in class then.” He turns and leaves the gym and that is that.

I, Abbey “Chunks” Brooks, have a date with a boy.

After Jake leaves me standing there in the gym, Kate runs over. “Oh my God, you and Jake Simpson?” She grabs my crutches and nearly knocks me over. “I knew it, you little liar.”

In my mind I'm already trying to come up with a way of getting out of this date with Jake, but at the same time, I'm enjoying Kate's attention. “We're just going to a concert.”

“Well, whatever it is, I'm insanely jealous, but not really. Wait until you hear what happened in chem today.”

I hobble over to the bleachers and she carries my stuff.

“So, okay, Derrick, yummy, finally broke up with that skanky slut during lunch, right?”

“Okay, sure.”

“And then in chem, when we were in the middle of our lab, he leaned over and whispered in my ear that he, and I quote, ‘really likes me' and he knows that I like him. And so then, I was, like, trying to play hard to get. So I was all, ‘What makes you so sure I like you?' And he was all, ‘I've been watching you watch me since the first day of school.' And I was all…”

Her story is making me cringe, like when I watch my mom scrape dry paint from underneath her fingernails. But then Coach Kimball unknowingly saves me with a blow of her whistle.

“I'll tell you the rest later, 'kay?” Kate shouts as she runs to the baseline, as if I'm on the edge of my seat.

“Can't wait,” I yell back at her.

I have an hour until JV practice starts, so I prop my ugly foot and my pathetic self on the bleachers and take out my bio book. I intend to do homework, but what I busy my brain with isn't bio or even the thing that just happened with Jake.

“Don't strain yourself too much, Abbey,” Garrett says and throws down her stuff, which includes her green messenger bag with an upside down rainbow triangle patch and a button that reads,
I'm not gay, but my girlfriend is
. Geez, even her backpack is cool.

Garrett sits down next to me and points to my closed book and blank binder paper. “Got something on your mind?”

With Kate so distracted with her Yummy Dummy Derrick, I've felt like I don't really have anyone to talk to, and I think maybe Garrett might be a good second choice. “Yeah, I guess.”

Garrett waits to hear all about it, but it's harder than I thought it would be to say it. “Well I was wondering…how do you…you know…um, how do you…”

“Knot a cherry stem with your tongue?”

I roll my eyes. “No.”

“Change your tampon while you're driving?”

“Gross. No.”
Just say it,
I yell in my head. “Okay, so how do you know for sure if you like someone or if they like you?”

“Oh, love advice is my favorite. Though the cherry-stem thing may apply here because having that skill tends to turn people on,” she says and moves in a little closer. “So, what are we talking about here? Boy or girl?”

I can't believe she's just asked me that, so I just stare at her with my eyes popping out of my head.

“Hey, anything goes, Dear Abbey. I'm just being open, but I take it by the look on your face you're talking about boy stuff. No problem. I've dated boys before.”

“Really?” She seems so into girls, at least she seems pretty into the supergorgeous, tall black girl she's dating. I can't picture her liking a guy. “Why'd you stop?”

She pops a piece of gum in her mouth and shrugs. “You know, it just happens. There I was, liking boys, and then bam! I fell for a girl. It's not that uncommon. I mean, you've heard of being bi, right?”

I roll my eyes again and try to act casual. “Yeah. Duh.” I want to ask more about that, but then I worry she'll think I'm too curious. “Anyway, so how does it feel when you like someone? You know, a boy. Like, how do you know it's more than just a friendly thing?”

“Oh my God, Abbey, you're so…”

“Stupid?”

“I was going to say cute.” Then she leans back on her elbows to get comfortable. I try not to glance at her cleavage, but she's made it impossible with the shirt she has on. No wonder she has a girlfriend. Who wouldn't want her? “Okay. Let's see…first of all,” she says, after gathering her thoughts on the matter, “when you're around someone, I mean a boy”—she looks at me and winks—“that you really like, you spend most of your time trying to think of something clever to say, but instead you say things that make absolutely no sense.”

This sounds familiar to me.

“And when you're around him, it's, like, not enough. It's like, you want him even closer and you sit around conjuring up ways that might make him touch you. I used to steal my girlfriend Tai's shoes and force her to chase me around the locker room and tackle me for them. You can borrow that one. It works like a charm.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say, thinking of Keeta chasing me down the rows of lockers. It does sound like fun.

Garrett continues, “But if you really, really like someone, you—Hey, there's Stef.” Garrett calls and waves Stef over to sit with us. “Abbey needs love advice,” Garrett says over the bouncing basketballs, but the entire freshman team still looks over and stares at me.

“Thanks for that, G.”

She pats my leg and laughs. “You're welcome.”

I smile as Stef approaches and we exchange
holas
.

“Love advice? Jesus, you need to fix me first,” Stef says, as she sits down next to Garrett and sighs.

“What happened?” Garrett asks. “Are you guys cool?”

I don't know if Stef wants me to be involved in the conversation, so I pretend to read my bio book.

“I dunno, G. Half the time I feel paranoid that she's cheating on me, and the other half of the time she
is
cheating on me. She's so messed up.”

“Did you find out who that girl was?” Garrett asks.

“No, Nikki just said that some chick came by Hot Dog on Saturday, asked if Keeta was there, but didn't leave her name or anything. Keeta said she has no idea who it was and I'm crazy.”

I look up after I hear that last part, and for some horrible reason, Garrett glances over at me and our eyes meet. My face burns with shame and I bury my head in my bio book again.

“Sounds like a supersized serving of lies, girl,” Garrett says to Stef.

“I know, but it's not just that, G. It's everything. My mom is threatening to kick me out again and Keeta's not allowed over. I have to sneak out to see her.
Chale
,
odio esto
.”

“
Qué gacho
, Stef,” Garrett says.

“Yeah, it sucks big time. Why does everything have to be so hard with her?”

“Well, do you love her?”

Stef pulls at her shoelaces and I hold my breath. “I guess I do, but I just don't know if she is worth all this crap I'm going through.”

“That's something I guess you'll have to figure out.”

Garrett is good at love advice. But I have a feeling she's good at everything.

“I doubt she even cares about me anymore, let alone loves me.”

“I don't know. I think she does, Stef. At least when she's with you she cares. That's how Keeta is. You know she's just as desperate for love as the rest of us. Except maybe she's so afraid of not having it, she gathers it from lots of places so she'll never run out.”

Stef laughs. “Yeah. When she's with me it's fine, but what about all the other hours of the day?”

“That is a lot of leftover hours, girl.”

Stef nods, leans toward me, and says, “You can stop pretending you're not listening, Abbey. It's cool.”

I come out from behind my book. “Sorry.”

“No worries. How's your foot?” She takes a closer look and makes a sad face. “Keeta told me it was pretty bad. She wasn't kidding.”

“Yeah. I mean, no she wasn't, I guess.”

Then Stef elbows Garrett. “Hey, did you know our little newbie here has an upcoming date?”

“Oh my God. How did you find out?” I whisper, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“What?” Garrett yells and slaps my good arm.

“You mean you haven't heard?” Stef says. “Well, let me tell you—”

“Seriously, who told you?” I interrupt.

“Doesn't matter. What matters,” she says to Garrett, “is Little Miss Freshmeat is going to the Death Becomes Her concert at Club Congress with Jake Simpson.”

“Ah ha,” Garrett says. “So that's what all the questions were about? You have a little crushy-poo on Jakey-poo? God, what a relief. I thought for a second there you were going to declare your love for me.”

“Dude, Abbey does not swing that way,” Stef says. “I mean look at her.”

Garrett smiles and shrugs. “You would know, I guess. Though I do have a way of making the ladies beg for my love.”

I look at myself and wonder how Stef can be so sure about me.

“Don't be offended, Abbey. All I mean it's clear you like boys. You're going out with Jake, right?” Stef says. “I think it's great. At least he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who will cheat on you like some people we know. Which reminds me—are there any other girls in your little guitar class?”

“No,” I say truthfully, “it's just me and a bunch of lame-ass boys and, uh, Jake. Why?”

“I'm just trying to figure out who that girl was that stopped by Keeta's work this weekend.”

I swallow loudly. “Well, we don't talk a lot in class so I don't know anything.” Sure, we stare a lot, but not many words had been exchanged until this morning.