Before the Boys Say No Page 13

  “Hey, Jared. This your girlfriend?” he asked when he got close. I mean, close. Like he actually pressed against my arm slightly.

  “No way,” I responded before Jared had the chance. The words just flew out of my mouth. Jared looked at me with hurt feelings.

  “She’s right about that. There’s no way I would ever go out with her,” Jared said. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  “I’m Dickie,” the guy said, giving me a flirting look with his dark eyes.

  I wasn’t sure how to take Dickie. And what kind of name was that? I could imagine introducing him to my parents. “This is Dickie, my date.” It didn’t roll off the tongue right. Besides, up close, Dickie was about an inch shorter than me.

  “Beatrice,” I told him, shifting slightly so we weren’t touching.

  Dickie grinned. “Beatrice? What kind of name is that for such a pretty girl? You should be called Lilly or Rose--”

  “How about dandelion?” Jared offered. “She’s really more of a weed than a flower.”

  I reached out and punched Jared in the arm. Hard enough to make him cringe away from me. Dickie seemed to like that. He started laughing and grabbed my arm, feeling my muscles--or lack of muscles, I should say.

  “You’ve got more fight to you than a pitt bull attacking a little old lady,” he said with a whistle.

  What? How was I supposed to respond to something like that? Jared started laughing and nodding his head. I decided it must be Aggie language. They seemed to have their own language anyway.

  Dickie let my arm drop and grabbed my hand. “Strong fingers, too. You should sign up for wood working next semester.”

  “I tried to get her to sign up, but--”

  “I’m actually thinking about it,” I said with a pointed look at Jared. He was clueless and confused, but he read my look well enough to not challenge me.

  Dickie stared into my eyes, his hand still holding mine. My palm started to feel sweaty so I pulled it away from him. He smiled and looked right at my lips like he could kiss me right then and there. I wasn’t used to guys being so bold. Dickie made me nervous. But Johanna said I needed to find someone who liked my type. There was no doubt that Dickie seemed to like my type.

  “So, are you going to Winter Formal?” I asked with a small nervous giggle.

  “I’m traveling to Nebraska to show my cow, Chastity,” he drawled.

  I blinked, trying to understand what he’d just said. “Show your cow?”

  “Yeah. Chastity’s won the last four shows. She’s a beauty, ain’t she, Jared?”

  Jared nodded emphatically. I smiled politely, clueless to what this cow showing was. It didn’t matter anyway. Dickie wasn’t going to be around for Winter Formal. My chances of going were trampled under his worn cowboy boots.

  “I would’ve stolen you away from your date if I’d gone,” he warned, throwing me a wink.

  I smiled and decided it was time to leave before I messed anything up with my big fat mouth. I had a good chance of getting a date to senior prom if I played my cards right with Dickie. Sure, he was very flirtatious and spoke with that odd Aggie drawl, but he was the cutest prospect that had shown an interest in me all year.

  I walked out of the room and heard Dickie give a low whistle. I’d really have to get used to his behavior, but it was actually a great feeling to have a guy flirt with me like that. I felt a whole lot better leaving that metal building.

  That nice feeling would have lasted me all night at work if the first person I saw had not been Lanie. She was talking to Brody by the register when I stepped through the door. I tried to scurry to the back, but her hateful eyes caught mine.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do than hang around this restaurant?” Lanie asked in a snotty voice.

  “She works here,” Brody defended me. “Besides, her parents own the restaurant.”

  “Explains why she eats all the time,” Lanie said, looking pointedly at my hips.

  I ignored her and went into the kitchen, too embarrassed to even look at Brody. But he followed right behind me.

  “Don’t listen to Lanie, Bea,” he said softly. “She’s just so--I don’t know. I don’t get it.”

  “I’m fine,” I said cheerfully, forcing a bright smile to my lips. “I stopped listening a long time ago.”

  “She’s waiting on me,” he said with a sigh. “She’s my ride home.”

  Well, duh. She was his girlfriend; she’d better drive him around. I slapped at his arm to let him know I was fine. He smiled so sweetly that my heart melted. Like butter. No guy made me feel all warm and tingly the way Brody did. Why couldn’t a guy like him want a girl like me?

  “See ya,” I said lightly and moved away from him toward the grill.

  Brody mumbled under his breath and left. Some days, I wished he didn’t work at the restaurant just so I wouldn’t have to see Lanie. Those thoughts flew out the window really quick when I was around him. He was so much fun. I never thought I could feel so comfortable around such a cute guy.

  “Stop day dreaming,” Dean teased.

  “Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Did you know next week is Brody’s birthday?” he asked.

  I was surprised no one had told me. “We should get him a cake,” I said.

  “Let’s make him dinner and Mom’s famous tiramisu,” Dean said with a grin.

  I nodded. Brody closed on Sunday. That would be the perfect time because he came in late. I gave Dean a high five and grabbed the salads ready to go to the floor. Now, if only Lanie didn’t ruin it for us.

  Dean and I planned the surprise all week. I think Brody was starting to get suspicious because we would stop talking when he came upon us whispering by the grill. I felt bad hiding things from him. But he’d understand Sunday.

  Except he called in sick Sunday. Right before he was supposed to show up.

  Dean had made Brody’s favorite--sun-dried tomato pesto and extra cheesy garlic bread. Mom brought in the tiramisu that she had labored over at home. Dad cut his poker game short to be there. I had spent two hours on my makeup and hair before coming to work. And no Brody.

  We were all disappointed. Dean dished us all out a plate of pasta to eat in the kitchen. Better not to waste Dean’s efforts. Mom fought back tears. Maybe it was me who fought back tears. I was mad. I imagined him going on a last minute date with Lanie and I wanted to scream.

  “It’s not like Brody to call in sick,” Dad said. He was trying to be the voice of reason.

  We heard the door open so Mom went to wait on the customer. A minute later, she came into the kitchen beaming. Brody was right behind her with a big smile plastered on his face.

  “We thought you were sick,” Dean said loudly, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the grill.

  “I kind of suspected you guys were trying to pull something like this,” Brody laughed. “I don’t like surprises, so I thought I’d get you instead.”

  I felt so relieved. Dean and I deserved that. Kind of. We spent the evening laughing over stupid stuff. Customers even seemed more forgiving for the night. By the time we gorged ourselves with Mom’s tiramisu, I decided it couldn’t have been a better evening.

  Brody was so comfortable around my family. Dad even made the comment that he wouldn’t mind if Brody was his son-in-law. Brody had gotten so used to my father’s remarks that he just laughed. I would have died of embarrassment several months ago, but somehow, it was easier to just laugh at Dad.

  “This has been one of the best birthdays of my life,” Brody sighed at the end of the evening. He gave each one of us a grateful hug. I savored the feel of his arms briefly wrapped around me.

  That evening, I imagined his arms around me as I fell asleep. All that school drama washed away as my dreams were filled with images of Brody.

  CHAPTER 11

  Triple chocolate fudge ice cream is the secret to chasing away self pity. With real chocolate chip cookie dough piled on top. And hot fudge topping poured over that. I
should have stopped at two scoops. Five scoops later, I looked at the ice cream container. There wasn’t much left so I polished it off. Now I’m paying for it.

  I unbuttoned my jeans and sat down to watch a Monty Python movie. Nothing romantic. I didn’t want to be reminded that I was sitting miserably in front of my television while everyone I knew was having fun at Winter Formal. Besides, Monty Python was kind of like medicine in my family. I’d watched the movies with my dad since I was a little girl.

  Johanna had called me to come over and help her get dressed for her first real date of the year. She looked stunning in her lavender dress, all puffy and silky. I helped her curl her hair and talked with her while she put on makeup. We avoided talking about my dateless evening. I left thirty minutes before Bradley was supposed to pick her up.

  Thankfully, no one was around to witness my misery. I curled up in a ball on the sofa, holding my sick stomach. I should have left the cookie dough off the ice cream. I was starting to feel like I was going to seriously vomit when my phone rang. It was Johanna.

  At first, I couldn’t understand what she was saying because she was blubbering so loud. When she calmed down, I finally got the reason she had called. Bradley had stood her up at the last minute. He had called her to cancel their date to Winter Formal.

  I couldn’t believe it. I had a few choice words about Bradley Jones that I wanted to let loose from my mouth, but I held them in. Not the time. After about an hour, Johanna calmed down. I had forgotten about my sick stomach by the time I hung up.

  I don’t think Johanna’s formula worked on Bradley. I wanted to find out where it went wrong because she sure hadn’t seen that coming. I mean, they had been holding hands the day before.

  I needed to come up with my own plan. I really wanted a date for senior prom. Dickie seemed to be the best prospect right now so I had signed up for the wood working class. I used all winter break to psych myself up to take it when school resumed.

  Then I got the flu. A girl with white skin, red hair, and a red nose does not look good. After a week in bed, I pulled myself together to help out at the restaurant. Dad sent me right home after I coughed uncontrollably on the pot of spaghetti in the kitchen. I was glad because second semester started the next day.

  I didn’t even have the energy to try to look good for our first day back to school. Winter break had brought the flu to just about the entire high school. I felt right at home with all the sniffles and coughs in English class.

  Even Brody seemed to be fighting it. He laid his head down on the desk for most of the class. Ms. McEnroy didn’t say a word. She did wear a face mask. You know, like the ones from the nurse’s office? And lots of hand sanitizer. She made each of us get a squirt from the large bottle on her desk.

  My next class was at the metal building. I forced my feet to walk there. Somehow, when you’re sick, you really don’t care. That was my attitude walking into wood working class. Jared was absent with the flu, but Dickie greeted me with a whistle. The teacher, Mr. B., gave him a look. I was too sick to even appreciate the whistle. I just wanted to be in bed.

  Mr. B. started a saw to show us different kinds of cuts. Sawdust started floating in the air. My nose started dripping. I pulled out a tissue and blew my nose. Hard. Dickie looked at me and I caught his expression. He was grossed out. That’s what it took to make him disgusted. So much for senior prom.

  We each had to make a cut with the saw. Mr. B. didn’t want anyone to be scared of it. My hands trembled so bad from fear that I couldn’t even push the button.

  “Get your head down closer so you can see,” Mr. B. yelled from behind me. “You’re in debate, right? Didn’t Bill ever teach you to overcome your fears?”

  I briefly wondered how he knew I was in debate. And who was Bill? I didn’t have much time to think because I had to concentrate. What Mr. B. couldn’t see was the long drip of snot that threatened to pour out of my nostrils if I lowered my head. I wasn’t about to bend my head. I had just turned on the saw when the unthinkable happened. The dust particles started tickling my nose. I felt the itching in my nostrils and I couldn’t help myself. The sneeze came like a force from another world. I sneezed so hard that I stirred up even more dust. I grabbed a handful of the paper towels on Mr. B.’s desk and blew my nose.

  Everyone, including Mr. B. backed away from me. I looked at the wad of snotty paper towels in my hands and then at the saw that was still running. Nothing was worth wood working. Not even a date with Dickie. Not that I had a chance to anyway. His horrified expression pretty much sealed any hope I would have clung to.

  Calmly, I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the door. I vowed never to set foot in the metal building again. Now, I had to fill that time slot with another class. The only two options I had was music or detention. Since I didn’t get a good feel from Mrs. Whittaker, I opted to be teacher’s aid for second period detention.

  Detention is overrated. Oh, my big fat mouth had landed me in it a couple of times, but did the school seriously think it did any good? I saw the same repeat offenders in detention week after week. Ray Boyle and Salty McSalty practically lived in detention.

  I didn’t hold any expectations of being teacher’s aid in the class. I was actually looking forward to catching up on some sleep second period. My plans flew out the window as soon as I walked in. Mrs. Tole was pretty fed up by the attitudes of the kids. There were only six in there--of course, good old Salty was there--and they were giving her a hard time. I handed her my paper from the office showing my change of class. She got a relieved look on her face.

  “You’re here at just the right time,” she said with a smile. “I need to run my reports to the principal, so you’ll watch the class for me.”

  Before I could say anything, she grabbed some files and headed out the door. I looked at the grinning faces in front of me. What did she expect me to do?

  I took a seat at her desk and crossed my arms. Salty let a huge spitball fly toward me. I ducked just in time and it splattered on the chalkboard behind me. He must have been sucking on that wad of paper for some time.

  I stood up angrily. “That’s gross, Salty. Do it when Mrs. Tole gets back. Right now, I’m not feeling good and I just want to sleep.”

  He actually sat back down and mumbled “sorry.” I took Mrs. Tole’s seat again and put my feet on her desk. I closed my eyes and could hear commotion from the kids in the room. I didn’t care what they did as long as they were all there when Mrs. Tole got back.

  I was dozing in and out when a girl yelled, “She’s coming!”

  My eyes flew open and I swung my feet off the desk just in time. Everyone had just slid back into their seats when the door opened. Mrs. Tole eyed us suspiciously when she entered. Not one of us said a peep. We only had a couple of minutes left before the bell rang.

  I was the first to get out the door. I heard Mrs. Tole call my name, but I just kept moving. That was going to be a long class period. Salty dashed past me, flicking my ear as he passed. I ran behind him and pushed him, making him trip on the ground. He grinned at me and held up his hands in surrender.

  “Jerk,” I muttered as I stepped over him.

  I was almost to debate class when I saw them. Lanie and Bradley were hiding in between lockers and were kissing. Kissing! I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. No one was paying attention. I stood in shock as Lanie gave him a last kiss and left the lockers.

  I wondered briefly if she and Brody had broken up. I got my answer when I saw her just a few minutes later running up to him and wrapping her arm through his. Brody smiled down at her, talking as though he was unaware of what she had just done. Lanie was cheating on him. With Bradley. No wonder Bradley had dumped Johanna at Winter Formal.

  I was so mad at Lanie for doing that to Brody that it was all I could do not to confront her. Of course, her group of skinny, beautiful friends were enough to keep me away. They seemed to flock around her all the time. I’d have to think long and hard whether I should te
ll Brody about her and Bradley.

  I ducked into debate class before Brody saw me. Mr. Robarb looked up from the book he was reading at his desk. Then it hit me. Mr. B. had called Mr. Robarb Bill. Was it possible this was the Bill the man in the restaurant was talking to when he was trying to teach me a lesson on pride. As sick as I was feeling, I had to know.

  “Call me, crazy, Mr. Robarb, but I had no idea your name was Bill.”

  He looked up from his book again. “Well, it’s really William, but my friends call me Bill.”

  I crossed my arms defensively. “Mm hmm,” I said knowingly.

  Mr. Robarb laid his book down on the desk. “What’s going on, Beatrice? Why the sudden interest in my name?”

  I stuck out my finger and pointed it accusingly at him. “You sent a man into my daddy’s restaurant to spy on me. Try to make me mess up in debate.”

  Mr. Robarb sighed and stood up. “Not to make you mess up, Beatrice, but to help you. I’ve noticed how you have a problem with building relationships with other kids. I was honestly just trying to help you. I thought if you heard it from a stranger, you might be more receptive.”

  “Receptive to what? That my teacher thinks I have a problem with pride?”

  “Well, don’t you?” he retorted.

  “I deserve every win I’ve had, Mr. Robarb,” I said firmly. My head was starting to throb and I kept having to sniff from my runny nose.

  “No one can argue about that, Beatrice. But the way you win turns everyone else off.”

  “The way I win or the way I prepare and debate? Maybe if you had different expectations from the other kids, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Furthermore, you allow them to treat me the way they do, Mr. Robarb. So you take a little responsibility in how turned off everyone is.”

  Mr. Robarb honestly did not know how to respond. He stood with his mouth slightly open and just looked at me with wide eyes. I took my seat as the kids started filing into the classroom. I loved debate, but there was so much unnecessary drama that it made the team almost intolerable.