Reason 4: It’s easy with you
Is this Hayley?
Delete.
Uh, hey. This is Brody. Took you home earlier and I was…
Delete.
So, been thinking about your offer…
Ugh.
This is why I don’t use my phone. I sound so stupid via text. I suck in a breath and try again, pressin’ send before I can change my mind.
Hayley? Brody. Just wanted to make sure I had your number right.
It’s gone, and I can’t overanalyze my lack of text lingo.
The phone vibrates about fifteen seconds later.
Ding ding ding! You win! Would u like prize behind curtain #1, curtain #2, or curtain #3?
I chuckle and shake my head as I type my response.
2 is my lucky number.
Send.
Okay. Getting easier. Only one try that time.
You’ve won a 20 min phone convo. with yours truly. Call me when u get this msg to claim ur prize! :)
I hit the dial button before I even think about what I’m doing. She’s just easy to talk to. Even via text.
“Sup?” She says it like one of those gangsters.
“Hey.”
“How goes it?”
“Uh, all right.”
“Wow.” She laughs. “You are full of conversation. I don’t know if twenty minutes will be long enough.”
At least she can’t see my face go red. “I was just wonderin’ what you were doing tomorrow after school?”
“Hmm… Hang on a sec.”
A door slams, and the music in the background muffles.
“Sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Did you ask me what my plans were tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah.” Was that wrong?
“Oh.”
Is that all she’s going to say?
“Uh, Hayley? You still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I’m just going to go to the library again, hopefully without the rain this time.”
I clear my throat. Why is this so hard? It’s not like I’m asking her out.
No, just asking her to hook you up with some other girl.
“Want company?”
“You want to hang out with me?”
“Yeah.”
She pauses again. What do I say? Do I say anything? Or just sit here like a moron?
“This isn’t a date is it?”
“Uh—”
“Because I don’t want your pity.”
“What?”
“I don’t want a pity date just ‘cause I haven’t been on one.”
I laugh. I don’t mean to but it just happens. “No. It’s not a date. I wanted to talk to you about, you know, what you said earlier.”
“Oh!” She laughs. “Yeah, that’s totally fine.”
“Then I’ll pick you up after school. That okay?”
“Awesomesauce.”
There’s that word again. I chuckle. “Awesomesauce.”
“Oh! I gotta go. You can claim the rest of your fifteen minutes some other time.”
“All right, see ya.”
Click.
Easier than I thought. Even with the semi-weirdness.
The student union is always packed during lunch. I don’t even know why we have a cafeteria since everyone eats out here anyway.
Sticking my earphones in and turning on my iPod, I get ready for the routine lunch hour: People watching.
Don’t know why, but this is what I do. Most of the group I hang out with has B lunch. But lucky me, I get stuck with A.
The music drowns out most of the bull talk, so I try to guess what people say by their body language. The runnin’ dialog in my head keeps me entertained.
Jasmine Walters saunters over to Josh, sticking her obviously stuffed chest in his line of sight. Let the commentary begin.
Hi Josh. Don’t you just love how big my tits are today?
Yeah, what is it? Two ply?
Why yes! Thank you for noticing. It took me all morning to make sure it was crinkled enough to see.
Good job. Maybe tomorrow you can make them even.
That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?
Shaking my head as I chuckle to myself, I turn my attention to other victims of my internal bashing. I spend a few minutes dissecting the theater geeks. They all think they’re popular because they’re ‘Super outgoing!’ But really, they’re just loud. My music can’t even blast their obnoxiousness into oblivion.
Right in the middle of my heckles, Quynn sidles past Brittney, who’s doing a ridiculous pantomime. The definition of sexy herself holds a bunch of papers and looks a little like she just came in from a windstorm.
I’m an idiot ‘cause I leap to my feet and do a Mission Impossible sprint toward her.
“Hey!” Crap, my voice shakes. I’m supposed to be cool around her. “You need help?”
“Yes!” She grabs the top half of her huge stack of papers and plops it into my arms. “Thank you Brody. I just need to get these to the front office.”
“No prob!” Ugh. I sound just as bad as those theater geeks. Note to self: keep mouth shut till Hayley gives pointers.
My stomach twists. Great. Why does this keep happenin’? Damn nerves.
“Just set them here,” Quynn says when we get to the main office. The lights are off, and since we’re both buried under papers, they stay that way.
I set the stack down on the already messy desk and they topple to the ground.
“Whoops.”
She giggles and balances her stack before bending over.
Don’t smack her ass, Brody.
I chuckle at the inside joke I have with Hayley as I lean down to help. “I think it’s time they clean off this crap.”
She nudges my arm. “I will once finals are over. Two more months.” She sighs. “I can’t believe it.”
Oh yeah, she’s an office aide durin’ this hour.
“Mmmhmm.” Holy hell. I’m brain dead.
“You going on a senior trip or anything? Last hoorah?”
I shrug. “Hadn’t planned on it, but somethin’ might come up.”
The last of the papers get scooped up and set carefully on the desk. My knees pop as I stand.
“You know, I still have the tickets for Universal.”
That’s right. Gabe was supposed to take her for Spring Break.
“You still goin’?”
She twists the end of her ponytail. She does that when she’s upset. And it’s pathetic I know that. “No. Going would just remind me I was supposed to be there with G-Gabe.”
Stupid brother. I wish I could wrap Quynn in my arms right now to comfort her, but my mind quickly comes up with an alternative.
“Sorry,” I say and reach for her hand to stroke the back of it. She gives me a squeeze, and my brain shuts off.
“It’s fine, really.” Another squeeze then she lets go, her cheeks turning pink. “Um, so do you think your parents would want them?”
That would get them out of the house over Spring Break. Sounds like a good idea to me.
“Well, I guess if you’re sure you don’t want them—”
“Great!” She pulls out her purse behind the desk and digs through it, finally pulling out a couple of creased vacation packages. “Please save me from looking at these every ten seconds.”
Why does she have to say stuff like that? It makes me want to smother her in my grasp and hold her till she’s put back together. And the other part of me wants to go pummel my jackass brother.
“Thanks.” That’s all that leaks out my mouth.
“Thank you.” She plops into the swivel chair. “Really. I’m glad you didn’t put up a fight like you did with this.” The bracelet I refused to give back to Mom tinkles as she tosses it back in her purse.
I lean against the desk, trying not to knock over any more papers. “That’s different. My mom didn’t piss you off, did she?”
She pouts and doesn’t answer. I grin. I got her there.
“She wants to see you, ya know.”
Her forehead crinkles. “I know. I just… can’t right now.”
“He’s never there. Gabe. So you won’t run into him if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not.”
I reach up to scratch the back of my neck. How can I tell her I want her to be around without sounding like a complete perv? The mom excuse could wear her down. It was worth a shot.
“She misses you.” I miss you.
A half smile. Okay… getting closer.
“She wants you to come over for dinner.” I want you to come over.
A full smile and a huff. Maybe one more to break her.
The warning bell rings signaling the end of lunch and the start of fourth period. Damn it.
“I’ll think about it, Brody.”
I straighten my stance and walk toward the door. “Guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow… in ASL, you know.”
“Oh! That reminds me.” She crosses the room, an arm’s length away. Her apple scent fills my nostrils, and I gotta swallow the growing spit in my mouth. “Ms. Stevens said she needed to see you. I was supposed to tell you yesterday, but I forgot.”
“Er, okay.”
Quynn smiles and blinks. I shake my head trying to free myself from her spell. Before I can mumble anymore incoherencies, I head to class.