* * *
There was new gossip in school, so my was she, or wasn't she pregnant faded from the lime light. Jason was a perfect gentleman, maybe too perfect. At times it seemed like he was just going through the motions with me—walked me to class—to my locker—said the right things, but most of his attention was directed toward the guys. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be with a girlfriend or boyfriend—they just folded into part of your life. With my family gone, I didn't have anything but Jason, so maybe my judgment was off kilter.
I went shopping on Saturday morning. It worked out really well, it was a cold day—windy, and the stores were almost empty. Mrs. Whitaker was right, there wasn't a great deal of choices when it came to my size, but I found a few things. One of the ladies at the dressing rooms noticed the difficulty I was having finding things that fit and was kind enough to give me a mail order magazine for sizes 0 – 4. She also said I could find the store online and that the sizing was very close to the things in her store. So, if a size 1 fit here, then it would from the mail order place.
I decided to save my new wardrobe until school on Monday even though Jason kept bugging me to see what I'd bought. He seemed really excited about it, which was a little weird, but sweet. The rest of the weekend passed pleasantly. Jason and I were perfect and kept off his mother's radar screen even though she had a habit of popping up out of nowhere—well at least to Jason—she wasn't going to surprise me again.
Finally Monday came around. I put on my coat after getting dresses and before leaving my room so that Jason wouldn't get to see my new outfit until we got to school. I was so excited—I couldn't wait to see those beautiful eyes of his wash over me. He tried to peek, but also seemed excited over the anticipation of the reveal.
We stopped at his locker first, where Matt and Alex joined us. I was a little disappointed, but maybe it was a good idea it wasn't just Jason and I—just in case. They walked over to my locker with us.
"Izzy got some new clothes over the weekend," Jason said as I undid the lock. I felt a little nervous, almost like when you take off your cover up at the beach—all the guys glancing up from their magazines, or pausing from their game of corn hole. Okay, here goes. I took off my coat, stuffed it in the locker and turned around.
Jason smiled, but it lacked the enthusiasm I'd expected. Alex didn't seem interested at all, and Matt was definitely choking back a laugh.
"Well?" I said, hesitantly.
Jason leaned forward and kissed me. "You're beautiful."
Matt turned to Alex. "Yeah, if you're into the librarian look I guess."
Alex punched Matt in the arm. "Knock it off, man, she looks nice."
"Who's the prep?" Some guy called out from the kids passing by.
"Pictures aren't until next month," another guy yelled.
I was humiliated. I let my hair down after first period and that at least put a stop to the librarian comments. While the guy's comments were condescending, the girls were vicious. Of course they didn't know I could hear them, but it was pretty much a consensus that I must be going after one of the teachers—probably the new, cute guy who taught biology. I mean seriously, how much more obvious could I be? Lisa had first dibs on Jason if I scored with the teacher. With the guys—I'd pretty much faded into the background by the end of the day.
The guys went to the batting cages again after school. It looked like it was going to be a weekly thing, but Jason dropped me off at his house first. He said he didn't want me to ruin my new outfit. I tore it to shreds when I got to my room and put on my favorite sweats. I fussed and fumed over my obviously pathetic attempt at a make over, and tried to forget with Biology and Algebra homework.
I joined Jason and his mom at dinner—they were having soup and sandwiches—I just had the soup. Mrs. Whitaker seemed pleased. It was mostly small talk, Jason's mom asking about his day and how he was doing at the cages. She was polite enough to ask me about the day too, although I don't think she really cared.
Jason went upstairs after dinner to do his homework. I helped Mrs. Whitaker with the dishes and then we went into the family room. She put on some kind of how to dress television show. She swore she watched it every week, but she had had to search though the online guide to find it. I finally realized she'd put it on for me—ya think?
The host went through this poor girl's closet tossing almost everything she owned, a lot of which looked like the things I had, even my shredded new outfit. Then the host showed the girl some things she could do, how to mix and match different clothes, and then sent her out shopping while her friends watched on hidden camera.
"Oh my God, that's totally wrong for her," one girl said. "It makes her look old."
"Ah!" Another one of the girls gasped. "She looks like a freakin' librarian."
Okay, I'd been there, done that. What I noticed the most about the next part was how important it seemed to show off your features—to accentuate the positive and minimize your flaws. Mrs. Whitaker said I was slender, so that was a plus—Jason—Jason knew what my positives were. Maybe he could help.
"What the fu—"
"Jason!" Mrs. Whitaker cut him off. "You know how I feel about cursing."
"Sorry Mom. What the heck are you watching?"
"I suppose you want to watch the Maryland game? Do you mind, Izzy?"
"No, basketball is fine."
She punched in the channel on the remote—no online guide this time.
"Thanks," I whispered.
She winked. "You're welcome."
"What'd I miss?" Jason said.
"Nothing."
Jason sat down on the sofa next to me. He glanced over at his mom before he draped his arm around my shoulders. I was surprised she seemed to be okay with it. Basketball was interesting, fast paced by human standards and I have to admit some of the players had remarkable skills.
"Well," Jason's mom said as she got up. "I think I'll watch the news upstairs."
Jason and I exchanged a puzzled glance.
"Goodnight, Mom."
"Not too late, you two have school tomorrow."
"She's leaving us alone—on the sofa—your arm around me?"
"I told you she'd come around." Jason smiled and then kissed me.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, mister. We're not taking advantage of what could be a hiccup in your mother's judgment."
He laughed. "You are absolutely adorable—no wonder I love you so much."
"It didn't seem like it in school." I thought about it for a moment when he didn't answer. "As a matter of fact, it never seems like it in school."
"What, you don't like me walking you to class?"
I flipped my leg across him and pulled up on his lap. I ran my fingers though his hair and then grasped his head gently, bring his lips to mine. "I don't want to fight."
He kissed me, a long—and if it were possible—too passionate a kiss. "Me either." He grasped my hips and slowly slid his hands up my back, under my sweatshirt.
"Jason," I warned, softly.
"Izzy," he panted.
I pulled away and slid off his lap to the cushion next to him. "I need your help."
"You need my help?" he replied disappointedly.
"Obviously I missed with my new outfit."
"It wasn't that bad, it just—"
"Made me look old."
"Maybe if you lose the vest, and undo a few buttons—"
"I ripped it to shreds."
"Really. wish I could have seen that."
"Trust me, no you don't. So, I was thinking, since I didn't do so well, maybe you could help?"
"Me? You want me to go shopping with you?" His fear of the ultimate humiliation answered the question as I expected. Time for plan B.
"Did you see that show your mom had on—when you came downstairs?"
"Sure, one of those stupid girl shows."
"Right, stupid. Well, it was about doing a wardrobe makeover. The girl didn't really know what kind of clothes to wear, so her friends helped her pic
k what worked for her. So, what do you say?"
"Okay," he said cautiously, "I guess."
"Wait here." I dashed into my room and grabbed the catalogs. A leap from halfway across the room put me back on the sofa with a thump. "So, we go though the catalog and you circle the clothes you like."
"You're serious about this."
"Yep, I trust you." I scooted up close to his side and opened the first catalog.
We must have spent almost an hour going through them. Jason circled more things than I thought and seemed to be enjoying himself.
"Well, if that's it, I should probably hit the hay." He stretched. "Dang, I'm stiff from the cages."
I was around behind the sofa before he could blink. I took hold of his shoulders and gently messaged them.
"Easy, girl." He rolled his head from side-to-side. "Yeah, that's the ticket."
I continued for another five minutes.
"I better get upstairs or I'm going to fall asleep right here."
I pushed him up to his feet. "Thanks for the help."
"Anytime. Maybe I can help you pick out a bathing suit sometime—a bikini of course."
"Beach—ocean—sun, probably not the best idea."
"The ocean's there, night or day." He winked. "Well, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
I used Jason's laptop and went online to place my order. Next week, things at school would be different.