spent the whole lunch period playing with my food and watching Cady talk and laugh with that boy, wondering why she never laughed with me that way. At some point, it occurred to me that Cady gravitated to those students who were marginalized, on the fringes of student society. The more broken and messed up a kid was, the more Cady worked to connect with them. I guess that’s why it surprised me she couldn’t see that beneath my Abercrombie exterior, I was about as broken as a teenage boy could come.
Of course, her sister, Lony, was part of my group. Spending time with Cady’s identical twin unnerved me at first, but it didn’t take long to figure out the two were completely different in temperament and personality. Lony and Michele had this “frenemies” thing going where they acted like friends, but continuously competed against each other. One of the prizes fought over was me. That’s exactly how I felt, too, like a prize to be won.
One day at the end of the school year, classes were called off due to a plumbing break that flooded the lower level of the building. It was rare for me to have a day to myself without having to go to some sort of practice, especially a day as nice as that one. I was typing an email to my brother Brandon who was away in the military when Lony texted to invite me and my friends over to her house to hang out for the afternoon. My heart pogo-sticked through my chest. Holy crap! Would Cady be there? I wanted to ask, but decided to play it cool. This was my chance to connect with her in a way I never could in school. I was dying to have time alone with her, even if it was only to talk. Although if I were being honest with myself, a tiny flicker of hope warmed my belly at the idea of kissing Cady. I prayed I’d get the chance.
An hour later, I found myself sitting in Lony’s living room with a dozen other kids eating pizza and watching some crappy reality game show on television. Lony’s older brother, Aaron, was down in the basement playing video games with his friends, but so far, Cady hadn’t made an appearance.
“I don’t care how much money is on the line, I would never eat a cockroach,” Lony declared, her face twisting into a pucker. “These shows are so nasty!”
On the screen, two girls in bikinis were gobbling down plates of live bugs while the host stood over them cheering. Reason #563 why I avoid reality television: It can make even the hottest girls completely unsexy.
Lony’s knee pressed into mine for the tenth time as she sat closer to me than necessary on the large couch. Again, I pretended not to notice.
“Where’s your sister?” I asked, trying to project a tone of indifference, but failing.
Lony’s eyebrow rose in curiosity and she studied me. “I don’t know. Why?”
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug and took a bite of pizza so I wouldn’t have to answer.
“I didn’t know you and Cady knew each other,” Lony said, asking a question without coming out and asking.
I took a swig of my soda before replying, “We don’t really. She’s in my algebra class. I thought she could help me with a question I had on the homework.” This was a complete lie, of course. I might not get the best grades, but math has always come easy for me.
Lony’s face relaxed in understanding. “Oh, I see. For a second there I thought you wanted to hang out with her.” She grinned and shook her head as if the idea was preposterous.
My jaw tightened. “What if I did? She seems nice enough.”
Lony tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave a quiet laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my sister. And she is nice. Nice and boring. All she cares about is her volunteer job, getting good grades and running. She wouldn’t know a good time if it hit her on the head. She’s not like us at all.”
Not like us. Us. I bristled at the idea of being lumped in with Lony, but a glance around the room was enough to show me the truth in it. The group of us in the Day family living room represented the most attractive, most athletic and most popular kids in our class. I should be happy to be included in the high school elite, but instead, it somehow made me feel uncomfortable.
Before I could brood on that thought further, the front door opened and a beautiful, windblown Cady entered wearing workout clothes and running shoes. Her face was damp with sweat and her cheeks were flushed pink from exertion...breathtaking.
“Hey,” Lony called out. When she didn’t seem to hear her, Lony yelled louder, “Cady!”
Cady glanced into the living room and popped an ear bud out of one ear. The cords trailed down to a tiny iPod clipped to her t-shirt. “What?”
“You know my friend Cane, right?” Lony set her hand possessively on my thigh. “He has a question about your algebra homework. Can you help him?”
Her eyes focused curiously on me, and I worried she truly didn’t recognize the guy who had been sitting right behind her in class all year.
“Sure...hi,” she said with a polite smile. “Um, my books are in my room. You finish lunch while I catch a quick shower. I’ll come down when I’m done.”
I nodded dumbly, and Cady disappeared up the steps.
I finished eating my pizza, but couldn’t taste it anymore. My mouth was dry and my mind spun in circles with all the things I wanted to talk to Cady about. I wanted to know how she was able to see people all the way down into their souls. What she saw when she to looked into mine. Where she got all that quiet confidence. What she wanted to do with her life. I had no doubt Arcadia Day was destined for great things, and I wanted a front row seat to cheer her on.
The one thing I hadn’t thought about as I waited for my dream girl to return was a question about algebra. So when Cady appeared fresh-faced and hair still damp holding her school bag, my brain completely checked out.
“You ready?” she asked.
I wiped my palms on my jeans, stood and followed her back to the kitchen. My gaze drifted down the back of her body, loving the way her runner’s muscles filled out her jeans, and I silently chastised myself for being such a pig.
In the kitchen, Cady tossed her bag on the breakfast bar and gestured for me to sit on a stool beside her. She removed the fat textbook, a beat up notebook and a mechanical pencil from the bag before setting it aside.
“So, is it one particular problem you have, or are you just confused by irrational denominators in general?”
Nothing about the homework confused me. In fact, I finished it before leaving class yesterday. But at that moment, Cady might as well have been speaking Japanese.
“Huh?” I replied.
Cady turned a kind smile on me. “The important thing to remember is that you can’t have an irrational number in the denominator of a fraction. In order to clear it, you have to multiply both the top and bottom sides of the fraction by the root. See?”
She took her homework page out and talked through the first problem. I nodded like an idiot, but all I could think of was the fruity shampoo scent floating around her newly cleaned hair. I just wanted her to look at me. To see past the All-American exterior and notice that there was more to me than what I could do with a ball in my hand. Would it surprise her to know that the golden boy who lived in the big new house in the rich part of town was once homeless? That the first five years of my life were filled with hunger and pain? I never showed anyone the burn scars on the backs of my thighs from where my bio-dad ground lit cigarettes into me. Not even my friends knew about my life before Mom met and married Jerry, leading us out of squalor and into a fancy home with a bedroom all my own. I didn’t like to talk about the dark things locked up inside me, but somehow, I wanted to tell Cady. I wanted her to be the one person who truly saw me.
“Do you want to see another one?” she asked.
Oh, right. Algebra. “Yeah, sure.”
Cady copied out the next problem from the book.
I cleared my throat, grasping for something to say. I’d just opened my mouth to speak when Lony appeared, leaning against the doorjamb.
“How’s it going in here? My nerdy sister getting you all straightened out?”
Cady glared at Lony and replied, “Bite me, Barbie.” Then turning t
o me she said, “Maybe you should try to work this one so I can see where you’re having trouble.”
I took the pencil from her, lightly brushing her fingers during the handoff. The brief contact sent a shiver through me, but Cady didn’t seem to notice. Lony did, though. She crossed her arms around her chest and pinned me down with her stare. Heat rose in my face, and I quickly focused on the paper in front of me. Am I blushing now? I don’t blush! I struggled to keep my hand steady as I started to work the problem.
Lony stepped forward and leaned on the counter in front of me, her neckline dipping low enough to show off a line of cleavage. Not that I noticed. Okay, I did. What fifteen year old boy doesn’t?
“You should come to the game tomorrow night,” Lony said to her sister. “Cane is the best quarterback Dubuque has seen in ages.”
“I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon.”
My head jerked up at the response.
Cady gave me a half smile. “No offense or anything. I’m sure you are great and all, but watching team sports makes me break out in a rash.”
A chuckle bubbled up in my chest. I shook my head back and forth and turned back to the paper.
“Yeah, Cane, my sister hates jocks. Even though she is one.”
Cady sighed. “A. I like to run and the track team lets me do that. That does not make me a jock. B. I don’t hate anyone. I just don’t particularly like hanging out with people who