already asked me
out.
"A
date?" I said, trying to keep my excitement hidden but failing completely. Be cool, Tina.
" Ummm ." He glanced around again before turning back to
me. "Okay. A date. But I'm not sure where we should..."
"How about
the Science Fair Fiesta Dance?" Way
to be cool .
He blinked.
"Why not?" He grinned. "How about if I meet you out in front of
the school about seven?"
He's not going to pick me up? was my first thought. Don't
look a gift jock in the mouth. At least he's going to the dance with you, was
my second thought.
"Yeah,
sure," I said.
"See you there," he tossed
over his shoulder as he walked away.
With an excited
wiggle, I ran over to Gracella who was selling a
brownie a few feet away. I clutched her arm mid sale, and her tray of brownies
spilled.
"Hey—"
"Never mind
those," I said as the customer gave a disgusted huff and stalked off.
"Ronny asked me to the dance."
"You're
kidding." She jumped up and down, giving a little clap. "That's
great. Wow that was fast. Now we can rub it into Nathan that we told him
so."
In concert, we
turned to the bake sale table and saw Nathan stuffing another brownie into his
face. Three wrappers lay abandoned on the tabletop: three pieces of plastic, a
blue ribbon, a red ribbon and .. . a yellow ribbon. The yellow ribbon.
"Oh my God.
Nathan what have you done?" I exclaimed.
He gawped at us as
he swallowed the last of it. "What?"
* *
* * *
Pushing open the
door to the boys' restroom, I yelled, "Make yourself throw it up."
A freshman washing
his hands at the sink, reeled back as if I'd struck him. Staring at me
goggle-eyed, he quickly fumbled with the faucet handles to shut off the running
water. He checked his fly. Was he concerned he hadn't hidden the equipment?
"You said
that already and it isn't helping. I can't just barf on cue." Nathan's
tortured voice bounced off the tile walls and echoed out to me.
"Stick your
finger down your throat," I shouted.
"It isn't
working. I'm trying."
"Try
harder."
"Tossing my
brownies wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't poisoned me."
The freshman
flinched then swayed, close to fainting. Trembling, he made for the door without
drying his hands. When he passed by me, the kid leaned away as if he was
playing limbo and I was the pole.
"What are you
looking at?" I demanded.
At that his eyes
widened further, and after clearing the door, he began to run down the hall.
Gracella , who'd gone to get her cell phone from her locker,
rounded the corner and came in to view. She almost collided with the freshman
going the opposite way.
When she reached
me, she shook her head. "It's no use. I can't reach Aunt Vandi . I left a message but that's the best I can do right
now."
"Great."
"How's it
going here?" she asked. "Is Nathan—"
The flush of a
toilet interrupted her question. Nathan staggered out of the stall and lurched
to the sinks. Turning on the water, he first washed his hands and then cupped
some water into his mouth. After sloshing it around and spitting it out, he
splashed some water on his face.
I backed out of
the door with a grimace and a shrug. "It might be okay. He didn't seem any
different. In fact, the way he's been yelling at me, I'd say he's not in
love."
"Good. Maybe
we won't need my aunt."
Nathan came out of
the boys' room.
"How do you
feel?" Gracella asked.
He nodded.
"Fine. Great, in fact."
"I'm so
sorry, Nathan." Shaking my head, I grasped his arm. "I don't know how
to make it up to you."
"I do,"
he replied, grabbing and then pulling me toward him.
Gracella gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
Before I could
react, Nathan planted a kiss on my lips. But what began as a quick peck soon
turned into a long smooch. The worst part—or the best part—was that
Nathan used his lips like a kissing god. Who would have thought he had it in
him? I tried not to be affected, but I couldn't help moving my lips beneath
his. Almost as if I had no control over them, my arms wound around