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“Hands”—Jewel
Daria breezes into Spanish class and slides into her seat next to me. “You can thank me any time,” she says, opening her compact and checking her reflection.
“Yeah, thanks for throwing me to the wolves.”
It may be even more impossible to stay angry at her than at Chase, but I’m trying.
“I didn’t throw you to the wolves,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I did you a favor.”
“Hmm. By humiliating me in front of the entire school?”
“Don’t be such a drama queen. Everyone thinks it’s cool that you’ve still got your V-card. Plus, Todd will never pressure you. Everyone respects it if a virgin wants to wait. You’re lucky.” She rolls her lips in and then checks their glossiness in her compact. “If I wanted to wait with a guy, he’d get impatient after like a month. But a guy will wait forever untilyou’reready.”
Daria has a way of saying things that makes it sound so sensible that I can’t argue with her logic.
“Adequate glossage?” she asks, making a kissy face.
And then she does something like that, and her sensible explanation seems ludicrous.
“I’m not talking to you until people stop looking at me like I’m the world’s biggest freak,” I whisper as our Spanish teacher shushes us.
“It’ll blow over in a week. Sooner if you give it up before then,” she says, winking at me.
Seriously, she and Chase are like evil twins, sent to torment me to death.
In algebra I put the necklace Chase gave me in a sheet of paper and fold it into a perfect square. I write his name on it and put it on his desk before sitting down. A few minutes later he comes strolling in, sexy and confident as ever. I don’t look up when I feel him fluff my hair as he swaggers past my desk. A minute later I hear the desk behind me creak and I know without looking that Chase is sitting behind me. My body goes into full alert mode, and I realize I’m holding my breath in suspense. I stare straight ahead and try to concentrate on breathing. I barely see the chain drop over my head, but I jerk from the charge I get when his hands brush the back of my neck.
“Stop it!” I whisper, trying to pull away but also trying not to draw attention from the teacher, since I’m sitting at the front of the room. Mrs. Michaelson is calling us up one at a time to see our grades, and Chase is taking advantage of her distractedness.
“If you take it off I’m going to kiss you,” he whispers, his hands tense. The hair on the back of my neck prickles under his warm breath. His hands relax, and I feel him fastening the clasp of the necklace.
He wouldn’t really kiss me. No way would he do that in the middle of a class, when everyone could see us.
I start to turn my head, but his knuckles press to my spine, stilling me. “I mean it,” he warns. “I’m gonna kiss you right now if you take this off.”
His fingers linger on the back of my neck for a moment, strong and gentle at once. My whole body feels shivery from his warm touch and the cold pearl on my skin. It takes all my will power to sit still and not to lean back into him and sigh with pleasure. When he finally draws away, my skin prickles with longing, craving the electricity of his touch.
He stays behind me instead of returning to his usual seat, and the entire class, all I can think about is how near he is to me.
When the bell rings he leans forward over my shoulder and whispers “I wish you’d taken it off.” His lips brush the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and then he’s up and walking out of class, leaving me sitting there, all warm and melty and not trusting my legs to hold me if I stand up.
two
Now Playing:
“Enjoy the Silence”—Tori Amos
All week long, everyone is talking about the big basketball game against Willow Heights, our cross-town rival. Our cheerleaders mentor the junior high pep and cheer squads, who come up to make posters, banners, and signs to hang all over the school on Monday. At lunch, Elaine won’t shut up about how she wishes Lindsey’s cousin Magnolia was in junior high so she could teach the little hooligans a lesson, and how apparently some eighth grader named Hemingway mouthed off to her and doesn’t know her place.
On Tuesday, the school announces that thanks to a generous donation, they have temporary tattoos of our Wampus Cat mascot for every student to put on their cheeks at the game. Lindsey somehow manages to sound demure as she casually slips into conversation at lunch that her dad made the donation.
On Wednesday morning, shit hits the fan when someone discovers that our mascot on the gym floor has been painted over with the WHPA Knights mascot. Everyone speculates all day who did it, and Lindsey is in absolute hysteria, sure that her cousins from Willow Heights are behind the prank.
Finally, Friday rolls around, the week’s madness culminating with a big pep rally in the afternoon to get everyone fired up. I leave feeling elated, but quickly come crashing down when I remember I can’t go to the game.
