Miss Taken (20 page)

“You think this pre-calc crap is funny?” Ned
sounded annoyed.

“No,” I replied quickly. But I was smiling so
hard, my lips cracked. “You came.”

Ned dropped his books on the table with a
loud whack.

I shushed him involuntarily and then could
have slapped myself for starting off on the exact wrong foot.

Ned acted as if he hadn’t heard me, thank
goodness. He slouched down in the chair across the table from me.
He didn’t appear exactly hostile but he didn’t seem too friendly
either.

I decided to be professional. “So, did you
get what we were doing today?” Ack! Can I say anything that isn’t
offensive?

Ned rolled his eyes and whacked his pencil
down. “As if you have to ask. No, I didn’t get it.”

“I didn’t mean...I just meant...I’m sorry.
Let’s see what the homework is.” I gave my full concentration to
the pages in front of me. I talked to my math book for several
minutes without stopping. When I finally took a break and dared to
look up at Ned again, he hadn’t even opened his book. He was just
looking at me.

I didn’t dare ask if he understood my
explanation. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t have
a double meaning. So I just stared back at him, barely able to
breathe. I know it sounds silly and melodramatic, but I felt like
the next words either of us said would decide our fate.

Ned spoke first, “So, tell me. Was that
supposed to be some sort of compliment when you sang me that song
about zero?”

I blinked. I don’t know why, but I picked
that exact moment to sound like a witch. “Um, yeah, of course. Why,
do people generally sing you insulting serenades?”

I could practically see my words floating
across the table toward him. If there were any way in the world I
could have shoved them back into my mouth, even if it meant choking
to death on them, I would have done it. I watched him, a pained
expression on my face, just waiting for him to get up and
leave.

Instead, he laughed a little. Not much, but
enough to let me know that he wasn’t insulted, at least not by my
rude question.

“So, you thought singing me a song about
being a zero would make me want to get back together with you?”

I took a second before replying. I could see
what he meant, but the whole point of the song is that zero is my
hero and that not many people appreciate how wonderful it is. I
said as much. “You know, like a diamond in the rough, but a more
unique way of saying it.”

Ned nodded slightly. “Unique. That’s one way
of putting it.”

“Well, did you listen to the rest of the tape
at least? There were more traditional songs after the first one.” I
really don’t know when I had gone from being hopeful to
exasperated. I blame it on nerves.

Ned nodded again. That was starting to annoy
me too. “Yeah, I listened to it.”

That’s it? I had poured my heart and soul
into creating that tape. “Well did you like it?”

Another pause. “It was pretty good.”

Ugh. I slapped my pencil down on the table. I
had had enough. “Stop stringing me along. Do you want to give it
another try or what?”

Ned raised his eyebrows at me. “What about
Kyle?” He spat the name out and shot a few derisive finger pistols
in the air.

“Kyle? Who’s that? Vegetableboy is nothing to
me.”

Ned cocked one eyebrow at me this time. “Are
you sure about that? Sure you didn’t go out on any dates with him
and forget to mention it to me?”

Apparently Ned had spies all over the place.
I made a clean breast of it. “You haven’t been speaking to me so I
haven’t had a chance to mention it. And since you seem to know
everything anyway, I don’t know why I have to spell it out but,
yes. I went on one very lame date with Kyle. We ate some junky food
and then walked around the mall. Then he gave me a dry peck on the
cheek. And then he went directly to meet Hannah for a real date
where they apparently made out, but Hannah told me he wasn’t any
good and so I hadn’t missed anything.” I wanted to tell him
everything to prove he could trust me, but I think I might have
been better off leaving that last bit out.

Ned started nodding again. “Good,” he
pronounced.

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“What’s good?”

“It was appropriate...symmetrical you might
even say, having him dys you for Hannah.”

I gritted my teeth against saying anything in
reply to that. It was appropriate, symmetrical even. Leave it to
Ned to pick this moment to suddenly fully comprehend mathematical
concepts that had eluded him for the last two and a half years.

“Okay, so I was mistaken. And I have been
punished. I apologize for everything. I wish I had never laid eyes
on the kid. Speaking of new kids...what’s the deal with you and
Sof-ee. Sophie.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”

“I tell you every last stinking detail and
you tell me ‘nothing?’”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Well, you could at least explain why she
rode home with you that day.”

“She rides home with me most days.”

“And why would that be?” I was trying hard to
keep the snottiness out of my voice but that little tidbit of
information sounded like something worth telling.

“She’s living with us for a while.”

“What?!”

“She’s a friend’s daughter from France.”

I am really starting think that France is an
overrated place to visit.

“Her parents are splitting up. She’s staying
with us until they can decide who she should live with.”

There was only one thing that I cared to know
about this girl. “So you were never interested in dating
Sophie?”

Ned rolled his eyes again. Doesn’t he know
how rude that is?

“Remember what I told you about my parents
and their open relationships? Well, let’s just say that when I
consider Sophie to be like my sister, she may actually be my
sister.”

I guess that was enough said on that topic.
“So are we made up or what?” I was still a little huffy.

Ned was now shaking his head at me. “Nope.
Not yet.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake. “What, embarrassing
myself in front of your parents wasn’t enough?”

“And Sophie. Don’t forget about her.” Ned
licked his lips. He was enjoying this.

And that little weasel Sofagirl. So thin, and
always dressed in black, she blended right in with the furniture. I
could picture her, sniffing around, picking up every whiff of my
discomfort with that pointy little nose of hers, her ears perked up
for every embarrassing detail.

“Well,” I said as pleasantly as I could,
“Since I’ve made my debut, shall I sing to you in front of the
whole school?”

Ned bobbled his head back and forth,
considering the idea. “Yeah, why not? That sounds pretty good
actually.”

I threw my pencil at him. He held it up and,
with the sexiest look he had given me in a very long time, said,
“You’ll have to come and get it.”

I would have leaped across the table then and
there, but apparently he didn’t mean it that way. He tucked it away
in his binder and asked me rather formally to go out with him after
school.

I could barely contain my joy. I limited
myself to commenting on the exception to his parents’ usual rule of
being driven back and forth by their chauffeur.

He said, “In case you’re wondering, yes. It
is due to the fact that you sang to me in front of my parents.”

Oh God, I thought. There goes my job with the
fashion designer. But, no, it was okay. Harley thought I was so
charming she insisted Ned take me out and cajoled his dad into
agreeing even though it was a school night.

Then he added, “Oh, you don’t mind if we drop
off Sophie on the way, do you?”

Of course I minded very much, but I think I
did a good job with the airy unconcern when I replied that that
would be just fine.

Ned smirked. “Just kidding.” Then he really
twisted the knife. “So, what was up with that outfit anyway? Were
you supposed to be Heidi or something?”

Before I could reply to that dig, I had a
vision of myself in his hall mirror. He was right. Why the hell had
I dressed like the friggin’ Swiss Miss girl?

I ground a measurable amount of enamel off my
teeth before being able to say, “I wanted to show you how much I
cared by spending an hour ironing that shirt.” Okay, not exactly
the truth, but now he was being mean.

At least he laughed in a friendly way. It was
worth the insult to my avant-garde fashion sense.

Strange but true scientific fact: The human
heart muscles contract strongly enough to shoot a spurt of blood
thirty feet.

I was really glad I hadn’t let depression and
sloth get the better of me when I had dressed that morning in a
smashing ensemble of zebra print butterfly shirt cinched with a
wide neon pink belt, black stirrup pants (still working on that
post-breakup weight gain) and white go-go boots.

As I waited by my locker for Ned at the end
of the day, time did that annoying slow-down thing again. The
hallway was emptying out and Ned did not appear. Then the halls
were completely empty and still no Ned. My heart was alternating
between stabbing me and stopping completely. Finally he came around
the corner.

“You ready?” he called without slowing
down.

That wasn’t the most promising opening to our
date. An explanation as to why he was so late was also in order.
But since apparently he wasn’t going to explain or wait, I grabbed
my book bag and ran after him.

“Hey, Ned, hold up,” I called. He didn’t slow
down or turn around. I walked faster. “Did your Spanish teacher
yell at you or something?” I prompted when I had caught up.

He kept up his speed walking. “Nope.”

“So why were you late and now running out of
the building?”

He stopped abruptly. “Because I’m still not
sure I really want to do this. This was Sophie’s idea, not
mine.”

Sofagirl again.

And he still hadn’t forgiven me.

My heart can’t take much more of this.

I didn’t see how a divorce could be so
overwhelmingly difficult that she had to go live on another
continent. I may have muttered something to that effect out
loud.

Ned stopped abruptly, grabbing his hair with
both hands. Through gritted teeth he said, “You don’t know the
first thing about her.”

Before I had a chance to say that I knew at
the very least she needed a fashion consultation with someone, he
continued, “Her brother died right after Christmas. He was only
eighteen. Her mom blames her dad.”

So maybe she did have something to discuss
with Miss Kindley. It also explains all the black clothes. Even
though my mother is no role model for me, I am starting to think
that I might need to change my career choice to lawyer. That way, I
will spend most of my time inside a courtroom and I can follow up
every stupid thing that I say with, “I would like to strike that
from the record.”

“Ehem. Why does her mom blame her dad?”

“They were scuba diving off Mallorca. He had
a heart attack underwater.”

I am a big enough person to admit when I’ve
been wrong. I couldn’t tell if Ned was trying to show off by
talking about exotic islands, but I restrained myself from
mentioning that I not only knew that Mallorca is located in the
Mediterranean but also the largest of the four Ballearic Islands
and that its capital is Palma. Instead, I said, “That’s terrible.
How come you never told me any of this before?”

“Because someone was too busy talking about a
certain island-born jerk.”

“Oh,” I said to the floor. They might be able
to improve student morale just by adding some linoleum tiles with
gold flecks like the mall. “Well, do you mind giving me a ride home
at least since I missed the bus?” I kept my face pointed penitently
toward the ground.

He shrugged and muttered, “C’mon.”

We walked out next to each other but
definitely not together. He had his Mustang. I always thought it
was black, but that was because I had only seen it at night. Now I
saw it was in fact a dark blue. I said this to him, hoping a little
light chit-chat would improve his mood.

All he said in reply was, “I don’t get to
look at it too often in daylight either.”

We got in the car but Ned didn’t turn it on.
We sat there in chilly silence. The weather had turned wintry
again, damp and it looked like it might rain. The cold pleather was
freezing my butt through my nylon pants.

I turned energetically toward him, but I
couldn’t quite make eye contact. “Ned,” I said earnestly to the
steering wheel, “Seriously, if you don’t want to talk to me, it’s
okay. Just give me a lift home. Or don’t even do that if you don’t
want to. I can call my mom.”

“Or you could get a lift from Kyle’s mom,” he
said snidely.

I had to do several trig equations to not
start screaming, but I picked difficult numbers, took my time and
it worked. I looked at him full in the face.

“I will have you know that I called my mother
to ask for a ride that day. I begged and pleaded with her to come
and get me. But when she heard Kyle pipe up with his big fat
fake-gum-cracking trap that he could give me a ride, she forced me
to take it. It was either that or walk home and it was a pretty
cold, miserable day for walking home in dainty little shoes. But
you know what? If I’d have known what was going to happen, that you
were going to overreact like that, just because of that one stupid
little meaningless kiss, I would have walked home - barefoot and
coatless if necessary - just to prove that I love you.”

Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said
that.

I leaned in to add emphasis and was way over
the console by the time I was done with my little speech. Now I sat
back in my seat, crossed my arms and looked for patterns in the ice
crystals on the windshield.