Miss Taken (3 page)

Kyle smelled really good. He must have been
wearing cologne because the aroma was too fancy for ordinary soap.
Fortunately he had used a light touch and not buckets of it so that
I wanted to gag. As I inhaled, my scent receptors seemed to think
they needed to send signals to a wide variety of sites in my
body.

We got through the homework in no time at
all. Kyle is a much faster study than Ned. But that was not a nice
comparison to make to my boyfriend so I erased it quick from my
mind.

There were a few minutes left before the end
of the period. The perfect opportunity for me to find out about his
foreign provenance.

“So,” I said, “Where was your old
school?”

“Oh,” Kyle replied, sounding bored. “I grew
up on an island.”

I knew it!

He flipped his sunglasses down, checked out
the thick cloud cover outside the window and said, “Oh, look at the
time. I’ve got to find my next class. Would you happen to know
where...” he looked at his schedule, “Mrs. Bourgeois’ French class
is? And while we’re at it, how about Mr. Krakowicz’ shop
class?”

Strange but true scientific fact: Hair on
your arms never grows much more than one inch long because its
growth cycle is only a few months. Head hair’s cycle lasts
years.

It was only common courtesy that I accompany
Kyle to the foreign language wing. And then it was just as natural
that we join up again to go to wood shop.

I considered our being thrown together to be
more than just a coincidence at this point. He seemed impressed
that I willingly signed up to work with power tools. (Note to self:
do not look wimpy when handling equipment.)

I was so glad I had worn my ultra chic leg of
mutton satin blouse in a most flattering shade of aqua blue. It
creates the illusion of broader shoulders without the hazardous use
of shoulder pads.

However, I wish I had taken the extra five
minutes battling my hair into shape rather than just wadding it
into a side ponytail. But, as Dad always says, hindsight is 20/20
and I never expected to meet anyone new in the middle of the
year.

Kyle’s transoceanic birthplace did not
resurface. He told me instead about how he liked to work with his
hands. A double entendre entered my mind with that remark. I bit my
tongue, but I couldn’t help glancing at his hands. They looked
strong, and not hairy like Ned’s.

Ugh, another traitorous comparison. There’s
nothing wrong with hair on a person’s hands. I even have little
hairs if you look close enough. We’re all mammals, covered in more
or less hair. Hairiness just means more testosterone anyway.

Mr. Krakowicz made Kyle remove his jacket for
safety reasons. After also absorbing the information that if he
(Kyle) ever showed up with it again, he (Mr. Krakowicz) would use
the leather to buff the nested bowls he was making, Kyle sat down
next to me. I wanted to ask what sport he had gotten the letter in,
but we didn’t get any opportunity for talking. I put on a brave
face but I was too worried about keeping all of my appendages
attached to my body to let my concentration waver even for a
minute.

Kyle didn’t seem to be put off by Mr.
Krakowicz’ horror stories. He just flicked his collar back into a
vertical position at the thought of a finger being removed by a
blade spinning at 100 rotations per second.

When it was time to put our digits on the
line, Kyle stepped right up. He really seemed to know his way
around power tools, which was kind of sexy.

That was the third disloyal thought I had had
about him and it wasn’t even the end of the school day yet. I
concentrated hard on the fact that I do not care for freckles and
that Kyle has an awful lot of them. His eyes are odd too. It took
seeing them multiple times, but they’re two different colors. At
first I thought it was a trick of the light, but one is definitely
more green and the other more blue.

Kind of like David Bowie who is one of the
sexiest men on the planet.

Unfaithful thoughts were multiplying like
bacteria in a warm primordial soup. The safest thing was to not
think about him at all, which was incredibly difficult to do with
him placing his non-hairy hands on top of mine to help me guide my
piece of wood through the table saw without losing any valuable
parts, as the heady scent of his cologne was being forced up my
nose by the blowback of the saw. It even seemed to be getting in
through other orifices, like my mouth and maybe even my eyes.

Purely out of the helping spirit and not for
any other reason despite what others might impute to me, at the end
of class I asked Kyle where he was headed next. He had social
studies, just like me, but thankfully with a different teacher. I
really mean it. After spending almost three solid hours with the
boy, I was ready for a break.

Since our social studies classes were in the
same wing, however, it made sense to walk together. I said good-bye
in a friendly, but non-flirty, fashion outside my classroom. The
second the bell rang, Mrs. Crocker started in immediately on a
disquisition about the Bill of Rights. To judge by the number of
papers she was flinging about the lectern, I could tell we were in
for a solid twenty-minute speech. I settled back in my seat, happy
to have some free time to reflect.

I tried very hard to think loyal thoughts
about Ned. But since our longest and most recent interaction had
been neither long nor recent and not very positive either, it was
easier to speculate about which island Kyle might hail from. I was
in social studies class after all. Hawaii? Bermuda? Bali? Is Bali
an island or a city?

Why don’t these people ever teach us anything
useful, like geography? The rights guaranteed to us by the
Constitution are by definition guaranteed. I can always refer back
to the contract if I ever need to know them. No need to waste time
discussing and memorizing them.

I spotted a globe on the heater. A shame my
sight isn’t as sharp as my hearing or sense of smell.

My dad’s world atlas is calling to me from
the shelf in his home office. I will have to pay it a visit this
afternoon.

Surprising but true geographical facts: There
are over 100,000 inhabited islands on earth. One in six people in
the world lives on an island.

Thank goodness there are over a billion
uninhabited islands so I have somewhere to go to hide out.

Bali is indeed an island in Indonesia. This
is not totally useless information because I may need to move there
some day. Possibly very soon.

The awkward situation began when Kyle walked
straight up to me at the end of math class to ask if we could meet
at lunchtime in the library again.

“I like your shirt,” he added. I had selected
a floral print that was vaguely tropical. I wondered if it reminded
him of home. Kyle went on, “It really compliments your eyes.”

“Why, thank you.” No one else had noticed
this important detail.

“So, lunch?”

Ned had been talking to Mr. Hiro but made it
back in time to hear that. I didn’t dare look at him, but I could
actually feel his eyes - both of them - burning into the side of my
head.

Ned has a lazy eye. I had the cruel thought
that he could keep one eye on each of us at the same time if he
wanted to.

“Oh,” I said, trying my best to sound totally
casual but failing miserably, “Can’t today. I have other
plans.”

I turned ever so slightly in Ned’s direction.
He looked as if I had punched him.

Kyle is a quick study in more than one area.
He also seemed to feel Ned’s eyes boring a hole into the back of
his bomber jacket. He half-turned, saw Ned’s face and then said to
me, “Oh, gotcha. Okay, well, some other day then. Bye Jane.” Kyle
aimed at me with his finger pistol.

I laughed as I pretended to ward off the
shot.

In farewell to Ned, Kyle clicked his
invisible gum amicably.

I turned to give my boyfriend a sweet kiss to
help him get through the next few hours until we could get some
serious smoochtime in at lunch. But for some reason, he didn’t look
open to the prospect.

“You’re meeting up with that guy in the
library?” He sounded like he had just been shot. Or maybe like he
wouldn’t mind shooting me.

Time to practice damage control.

“Hm? Oh, no. He just happened to be there at
the same time I was. Total coincidence.”

Even though this was the absolute truth, it
didn’t sound particularly believable. The blathering I tried next
did not help matters.

“I went to the library after lunch and I met
him there. I mean, I ran into this kid and he remembered me from
math class and asked me to help with the homework since it was
ahead of where he was in his old school. Did you know that there
are more than 17,000 islands in the Indonesian archipelago?”

“That kid’s from Bali?” Ned asked
skeptically.

“Kyle? Oh, no. I mean, I don’t know. He just
said he was from an island, not which island specifically.” Shut up
Jane. Now.

Ned shook his head in disgust. “Do you have
time to squeeze me in today or should I make ‘other plans’?”

The sarcasm was not lost on me, I can tell
you.

“Don’t be silly,” I said, desperate to return
to being part of a normal, happy couple who makes out in the
library. “I’ll squeeze you in.” In an effort to purge thoughts of
Kyle from his mind as well as mine, I gave Ned an unusual public
display of affection by squeezing his butt.

“Promise,” I snuck a kiss on his ear as I
whispered into it. I had to stop all PDA when I caught Sofagirl
watching us. Still dressed as a nun in training, she really had no
business witnessing such things. And what was she doing hanging
around so long after class?

Ned finally seemed mollified. I had to bolt
to get to bio on time. I didn’t want Mr. Garrone reassigning Kyle
to another lab partner. I mean, he’s just so smart, why get stuck
with some dud when I can have a whiz?

Strange but true scientific fact: Male
bowerbirds build a complex bachelor pad to attract a mate. They
will only leave it to find more materials, or to destroy another
bowerbird’s nest.

We didn’t have a lab in biology. Kyle and I
only got the opportunity to smile at each other three times as
Garrulous Garrone yakked on about a particularly lengthy,
non-sequitur story related to a track meet he attended in high
school or college. It went on for so long, it may have spanned
both.

I could tell Kyle definitely felt the same
way I did about his totally unrelated-to-science-in-any-way
stories. I also had a few new jokes for him, but I didn’t get the
chance to try them out during that class.

Things went pretty well at Ned’s and my lunch
date/tutoring/makeout session (DTMS) too. That is, until Kyle
showed up.

Yes, that’s what I said.

Kyle showed up.

Of course, he couldn’t have known that we
would be there and we did manage to stop sucking face right before
he got there. Or at least right after.

But any way you slice it, it was
uncomfortable.

Things became even more awkward when he said,
“Oh, sorry, I’ll find another table,” and I, for reasons that are
still unknown even to myself, said, “Oh, that’s okay, you can sit
here. We were discussing the math homework.”

For the record, I said that just to be
polite, never thinking in a million years that Kyle would take me
up on it. But he did.

“Awesome.” Kyle shot me with his finger
pistol. For the second time that day, Ned looked like he wished
Kyle’s finger contained real bullets.

“Ta very much. I hate eating lunch by
myself,” said Kyle. His accent really is adorable, but I would have
found it a lot more charming if he had said something more along
the lines of, “No, I’ll be going along then,” instead.

He proceeded to take out his sandwich and
started munching away, totally disregarding library rules and Ned’s
icy stare, making chummy conversation all the while. “So, what’s up
with this Hiro guy? Does he even have a personality? You guys start
on the homework yet?” Spotting my paper, he grabbed it. “Can I
see?”

Apparently, it was a rhetorical question.

Then Ned did one of those fabulous things
that he pulls out of nowhere sometimes. He stacked our things in a
neat pile and then walked calmly around the table and plucked my
homework out of Kyle’s pale, hairless hand without saying a word.
He snapped the paper inside one of our books, scooped them up and
took my hand with his free one.

Ned said, “Let’s get out of here,” ignoring
Kyle as if he were just another dusty book on the shelf.

I couldn’t be so bold. I made a gesture of
apology at Kyle, which I very much regretted afterwards because Ned
caught me.

But it was rather exciting, although totally
nineteenth century, to be led away by the imposing figure of my
boyfriend, even if he does lope along in a goofy way sometimes.

This time, however, Ned strode purposefully,
pulling me along until we got out into the corridor. Then he
dropped my hand and our books. They crashed onto the floor with an
echo that carried quite a distance down the empty hallway.

Giving me a look which was not benevolent to
say the least, Ned demanded, “What’s up with you and -” he made
little guns with his hands and shot the air mockingly a few times -
“Cowboy Bob there?”

I started to utter protests, but just then
the principal walked out of his office which is right next to the
library. I didn’t think having a lovers’ quarrel right in front of
him was the best idea, although the idea of being eligible to have
a lovers’ quarrel was a little thrilling.

Robin Jane had to regain control of the
situation. “Come,” I said, firmly picking up Ned’s hand again.