Chapter 2
The Request
The lunch bell rang, breaking me out of my thoughts of Tristen. I grabbed my lunch out of my locker and went to meet Phoebe in the courtyard at our usual table. I walked outside into the breezeway, breathing in the fresh air. It was a gorgeous fall day. Middleton High School was a very small, one-story facility. It was shaped like a U, with the cafeteria and courtyard in the middle. Phoebe and I always chose to sit outside on days like these to enjoy the weather this time of year. When I reached our table, she was flirting with a short, googly-eyed sophomore.
“So, if you can just do that for me, that would be amazeballs,” she said as she grazed his hand with her finger tips and batted her eyes.
“Uh…no problem. I will…uh…slip it into your locker tomorrow morning before class,” he said nervously. As he got up and walked away, I gave her a look.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“What is that poor little sophomore doing for you, Phoebe?”
“Oh, Grace, don’t judge me. He’s going to do my paper for me,” she shrugged.
“Phoebe,” I said with a tone to let her know that I was a tad bit disappointed. “Why? You are so good at writing.”
“I know. It’s just that I have to work tonight.”
“I thought you were off?”
“Well, I decided to work… because I need the money.” She was so sure about her lie, but I could see straight through it.
“You mean, you need to work with that guy. Phoebe, just because he’s cute does not mean that you can slack off at school. You know we are finishing up our college applications next week.”
“I know, I know. It’ll be fine. So, what did Mom make you today? Whatever it is, I want some. I am so hungry and they are serving mystery burgers in the cafeteria. Blah,” she squinched her nose as if she smelled something terrible.
“Yeah, here you can have half my roast beef.” I tore a piece off and gave it to her, although deep down it was killing me. I was so hungry, as I always was at this time of the day.
“Why does your mom make so much lunch for you?” she asked, biting into the juicy roast beef sandwich. “I mean, you’re like a toothpick. I never understood where it all goes.”
“I don’t know,” I responded with a mouthful. “You know I always eat a lot. Mom says I have always been like this. I just love food. It’s like, the greatest invention,” I giggled. And it was true. To me, food was just heaven. I woke up looking forward to eating. It doesn’t just fill me up or satisfy my hunger. It made me feel…good. I was always full of energy after I ate. Sometimes, I even thought it would make me physically look better. Mom would just say it’s because of all the energy I felt after I ate, kind of like when you get a good night’s sleep. But sometimes I could swear that I would look in the mirror after a good meal and see my face glowing. Food and I, we had a special relationship.
“So, Phoebe,” I said before I took my next bite. “Tristen was at my locker last period.”
“Hey, Grace,” Carmen greeted as she walked by.
“Hey, Carmen,” I smiled back.
“You’re shitting me,” Phoebe whispered loudly as she leaned closer to me from across the table. “What did he want?”
I took another bite and quickly chewed and swallowed before I answered. “He wants me to tutor him. He wants me to meet him Thursday at my locker so that we can go study.” Wow, it really sank in right when I said that out loud. I almost couldn’t swallow.
“Are you kidding me? Well, so, are you going?”
“Of course I’m going,” I practically yelled. I looked around to make sure no one else was listening. I really did not want anyone else to know. No one really knew how much I liked Tristen except Phoebe and my mother. I didn’t want to be known as that girl in school who had no life because she fantasized about the popular boy. Not to mention, I didn’t want Sonny finding out. God only knew how much harder she would make my life. I was sure she would get every chance she got to rub their relationship in my face.
“Phoebe, I can’t not go. I mean, he needs my help. I’m going to help him learn calculus.” I couldn’t believe my own lie much less think Phoebe believed it.
“G, you know you are freaking out right now about what you’re going to wear and what’s going to happen. It’s fine. I’ll dress you.” She gave me a matter-of-fact look.
“What? No, you are most certainly not dressing me. I don’t want to look like a hooker,” I said trying to make it sound like a joke when really I was being serious. Phoebe didn’t look like a prostitute per se; she just chose to wear clothing that revealed her belly ring and exceptionally large boobs. She had a great body, don’t get me wrong. She was very curvaceous and proportioned well. It’s just that her boobs were bigger than they should have been for her size, and she knew it… And she loved it… And so did every other guy in school. “I will figure out what to wear.”
“Okay,” she said as if to warn me. “Just remember that guys cannot resist a girl who shows a little tummy and cleavage. At least wear a little bit of makeup for me,” she pouted.
“No, guys like it when you show a little tummy and cleavage. You know I don’t feel comfortable like that.” And it was true, I really didn’t. My mom never had to worry about me leaving the house with not enough clothing on. I always felt extremely awkward in midriffs and hiked up skirts. Not that I was ashamed of my body, well of course except my boobs. I was thin, with a natural olive complexion, and had somewhat of a curvy figure. And I certainly did not judge Phoebe for dressing the way she did. If you had it, flaunt it. I would just prefer to dress to comfort, which meant jeans and a t-shirt to me. However, I would dress up when the occasion called for it. I wasn’t sure if this was the occasion. Studying calculus did not exactly scream miniskirt and a halter top. Then again, everything changes when it’s studying calculus with the hottest guy in school.
The next three periods seemed way too long. My day was completely complicated by my earlier encounter with Tristen. Although it should have been a totally amazing day, my date with him on Thursday had me a little worried. I worried that I wouldn’t know what else to talk about besides calculus. I was not normally shy, but when it came to Tristen, I forgot the whole concept of words and how to use them. I was also worried about Sonny. For some strange reason, Sonny had chosen to hate my whole existence. I never understood exactly why she chose me to crucify, but she had this unnatural desire to treat me as if I were scum on her bathroom walls. Well, I was sure she didn’t have scum on her rich walls, but something along those lines. I had known Sonny as long as I had known Phoebe, since elementary school, and she had never liked me. To be honest, I guess I felt the same way. The only difference was that I disliked her because of how she treated me. She just disliked me for no apparent reason. I knew she was fuming about Tristen asking me for help, and I worried that she would scheme to make my life a living hell for doing it. Or worse, she could show up. I guess I should just be prepared because I cannot let Thursday not happen. I would be a total idiot.
School was only about four blocks away from home. When I first started Middleton High, Mom offered to drive me, but I chose to walk with Phoebe every morning and afternoon. Over the past few months, since Phoebe got her job at the mall, she had been leaving school to go straight there on most of the days, so I had been walking alone. It didn’t bother me much, though. I enjoyed walking. Being outside was one of my favorite things to do. The scent of the sun on my clothes, the smell of the trees and feeling of fresh air making its way into my lungs exhilarated me. It made me feel alive and happy to be alive. My senses always seemed heightened, and I swore I could smell a flowerbed that was a mile away. Anytime I would try to express how nature made me feel, I would just get lost in the words. My mom would just smile and Phoebe would say I was weird. So, I learned to keep my love for nature to myself and enjoy it quietly.
I got home at my usual three o’clock time. When I walked up the driveway, I was sur
prised to see my mom home early from work.
“Hey, Mom!” I yelled as I opened the front door.
“Hi, sweetheart! I’m in the kitchen!”
Of course she was. I threw my book bag on the couch and went into the kitchen to greet her with a kiss. “I thought you had to work late tonight.”
“I thought I did too. You know I try not to work late unless it is necessary. I would rather be home with you. So how was school today?” she asked as she thumbed through the mail at the kitchen table. I went straight to the fridge to get some pomegranate goodness.
“Oh, you know. It was school.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“Did you learn anything fun? Oh and honey how did you like your lunch today?”
“Well, it’s funny that you ask—”
Mom popped her head up to look at me across the table. “You didn’t like it?” she asked almost as if she were horrified. “Gracie, did you eat lunch today?”
“Mom, yes I ate lunch. Lunch was great. I always eat your lunch, you know that,” I reassured her. She took a deep breath and went back to the mail. Mom was very sensitive about her cooking. I loved her food and never had a problem with it, but if I didn’t like it for some reason, she would become completely crazy and try to perfect what she had made. I thought it was a bit OCD, but Mom’s passion for cooking was important to her, and I supported that. Sometimes I would wonder if it was what she did to forget about Dad leaving. Maybe it was her way of coping. I would never ask, though. Jack was a sore subject.
“Anyway, something great actually did happen today,” I said. “Remember the boy that I really like at school?” I didn’t think that she forgot him, really. It was the only time I had ever confided in my mother regarding a crush. And it was only because she overheard Phoebe and I dishing about which guys at school were cute.
“Oh, yes. Tristen, is it? Yes, I remember,” she said as she continued to write in her checkbook.
“Well, I am going to be tutoring him. He needs help with his calculus.” I pulled a chair out to join her at the antique wooden kitchen table. Most of the things in our house were antique...Mom had an interest in old things.
She smiled softly, not lifting her head from her checkbook. “That’s great, Gracie. Isn’t he dating that Sam girl?”
My ridiculous grin faded. Why would she burst my bubble? Didn’t she know how much I liked him?
“Um, yeah…yes,” I couldn’t help shifting uncomfortably in my chair. “Her name is Sonny. She’s perfect,” I mumbled under my breath.
Mom sensed the slight disappointment in my voice. She looked up at me. “Gracie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, sweetie, but he is dating someone. Don’t you think it would be inappropriate for you to act on how you feel for him? Do you think it would even be a good idea to tutor him, knowing how you feel?”
Why was she trying to rain on my parade? I stared at her for a moment, letting what she just said seep into my mind.
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” I said through clenched teeth. “I won’t have a problem tutoring him, though. He really does need the help, and it will make me feel good to help him.” I picked up my glass and stood. “I think I’m gonna go listen to some music.”
I could see a little bit of guilt in Mom’s eyes before I turned to walk out of the room. “Okay, dear.”
I went upstairs into my bedroom, grabbed my IPod, and threw myself back onto the bed. Why was she so uptight about this? I mean, I get what she was saying. Okay, he had a girlfriend. And she was perfect. But, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t like him. Almost every girl in school liked him. Heck, I’m sure almost every girl in the greater New Orleans area liked him. What was so wrong with that?
As I laid there thinking, I realized that she didn’t really like me dating Josh either. I remembered I had to beg her to let me go on a date with him. The other times we hung out, I snuck out to see him. She would have killed me if she knew that I kissed him.
This was ridiculous. I was seventeen years old, almost a college student, and very mature for my age. Anyway, he was dating the epitome of perfection. I doubted that he would want anything less than perfect at this point. I was way less than perfect. Then again, maybe he was tired of perfect.
I could hear my stomach begin to rumble. I needed food. Soon.
After listening to a little music while I did calculus, civics, and English IV homework, I nearly began running downstairs when the scent of sizzling fajitas reached my smell receptors. Man, that smell made me feel like I hadn’t eaten in months.
“Gracie, dinner is…!” Mom yelled right as she watched me tumble onto the kitchen floor. “Grace! Are you okay?” she asked frantically as she bent to help me.
I shuffled to my feet while holding on to her arm. I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I wasn’t normally clumsy, but every now and then I would get dizzy if I felt too hungry.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just hungry,” I made my way to the table where steak fajitas, black beans with sausage and rice, fried little banana thingys, and chips and salsa were awaiting my starving mouth.
“Mom, it looks so good,” I growled after swallowing a mouthful of saliva.
“Okay, well eat up. You need food right now,” she demanded. She pulled out the chair across the table in front of me to sit down and eat. I couldn’t be polite. I had to start at that moment.
“So, Gracie, I was thinking about our conversation earlier,” she said while placing her napkin on her lap. I swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to sound…insensitive.” Sincerity swept her face. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, honey.”
I swallowed hard again, wondering why she would think I’d get hurt. I got that he was in love with Miss Perfectly Perfect, and I didn’t expect us to be together after one study date.
I continued to eat the delectably delicious steak fajitas.
“It’s just that, he has a girlfriend. He may not think of you in the way you want him to. Not to mention, if he does, you could come in between them and cause a big mess.”
I managed to keep the fork out of my mouth for a moment. “Mom, I know that. I am not expecting anything from him. Besides, Sonny hates me.”
“She hates you? Why?”
I shrugged off her question. I didn’t want to get into that.
“Well, I just worry. Anyway, you should be focusing on your college applications,” she said before finally picking up her fork to eat. How can she not want to dig in from the smell alone?
I nodded and we continued to eat in silence.
After dinner, Mom sat in the bay window to read a book and I went upstairs to surf the internet. Well, I say surf but really just jump on Facebook to check out what my friends did that day. That was the great thing about social media. You could be nosey, without actually being nosey. People wanted you to know what they were doing. It always amazed me how people would post updates about their lives every thirty minutes.
Going to the movies with so and so. Getting my ticket for the movie. Movie is about to start. Just got out of the movie. On my way home from the movie. Sitting on my toilet thinking about the movie.
Really?
I changed into my pajama pants and my mom’s old Berkeley University t-shirt, flopped onto the bed, opened my laptop and signed in. There was a friend request awaiting my approval when the homepage popped up. I clicked it, knowing that it would be some random person who was a friend of a sister’s boyfriend’s best friend of a friend that I currently have on my friends list.
Tristen Miles is awaiting your approval.
What? I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I was not temporarily blind, and only envisioning what I read. He was asking me to be his friend? My initial reaction was to wonder why. Why now? Was I his friend now because I agreed to tutor him?
I stared at my laptop, recognizing that there may be some consequences to this. If I accepted his request to be friends on a social network, there was the slight possibility that I might end up wasting too mu
ch time in my day checking to see what he did the night before, which would grant me a stalker status. Not to mention, the high possibility that Sonny would see that we were friends and it would add fuel to the fire she already wanted to set me on.
I squinted at the tiny picture next to the request, he and Sonny wearing sombreros at what seemed to be a Mexican restaurant. He liked Mexican food. So did I. I began to wonder what else he liked. If he cherished food as much as I did, or loved horrors movies, or if he liked comic books, or enjoyed walking in the park on a beautiful day.
I held my finger up to my mouth and squeezed my nail between my teeth. Grace, just do it! my subconscious yelled. I brought my finger down to the mouse pad, hovered the cursor over the ACCEPT option, and after about ten seconds, tapped the pad. There, I was his friend. That wasn’t so bad. I resisted the urge to scan through his profile. I closed my laptop and set it on the night stand next to my bed. I flipped the lamp off and cuddled up in my blankets, wondering if my decision was smart. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a great friendship.
Mom’s words slowly crept into my thoughts, making me cringe. He may not think of you in the way you want him to. Was I expecting anything more? Would this decision to help him study be the beginning of disappointments and hurt feelings?
No, the important question here was, what would I do to get close to him?
Well, I guess helping him study would be the first thing.