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“Is that so…” Nibbling the end of the colored pencil, I pondered the information carefully, wondering how much of it was true. Had he ever been arrested? Why did that excite me in a strange way?
“Louisa was telling me in the bathroom that she saw them talking to the football coach earlier. We were discussing the merits of brown versus black eyeliner and—”
“Brown for casual and black for Fridays and weekends.” I reminded her, nodding and coloring in squiggles of DNA.
“Smokey eyes are so classic, but not Monday morning worthy unless you fall asleep all weekend. Then you end up looking like Rocky Raccoon.”
We hummed in agreement, glad we settled on the eye makeup debate, but I was stuck wondering if he played football and would join the team that Kristen’s dad coached. Mr. Calloway was also our gym teacher and our football team went to group finals every year.
I interrupted Kristen before we got completely sidetracked. “Why don’t you just ask Damien? Wouldn’t that be the easiest?”
Kristen gasped and looked at me like I did something horrifying. From her reaction you would think I spilled my chocolate milk all over my white T-shirt and dark wash Express flare jeans my mom let me buy with my babysitting money. Sometimes I thought Kristen was better suited to drama class than the history ones her mom made her take as prelaw college requisites.
“Taylor Jane Bryant, I am going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me.” Eyes narrowed, Kristen looked ready to blow her top off, so I let it go, not realizing that her favorite pers
on finally joined us.
“Taylor. Pebbles.” Damien waggled his eyebrows acknowledging us both, coming over to our table. His confident swagger reminded me of that new boy band I wanted to see in concert for my birthday but my parents had yet to agree to.
Kristen simmered behind her math textbook, the angry heat virtually radiating into the room. Her homework suddenly looked fascinating, the way one viewed a new zoo animal, curious and yet cautious. Kristen gave Damien her own polite gesture with her middle finger, rubbing the bridge of her nose in an exaggerated fashion.
My friends are so mature.
At least I wasn’t bound under the Mutual Bestie Hate Act of 2002… or MBHA for short. “Hi, Damien.” I knew Damien since kindergarten because our families lived across the street. Damien’s mom and mine always got along and when Mrs. Hart went back to work my mom would watch Damien after school. Mrs. Calloway, a busy lawyer with her own successful practice, sent Kristen and her older brother, Chase, next door to my house to play. We were a regular group in the neighborhood. In fact, I was sure my mom was home right now baking something for all of us to eat after school later.
“Ladies….” Damien looked at me and then smirked at Kristen, who was trying her best to ignore him. “I’d like to introduce you to my cousin, Hunter, Hunter Hart. He’s going to be attending school here.” So that explained their connection as Damien looked proud to introduce his cousin. It was a nice thing he was doing, whatever the circumstances, although I imagined Hunter could hold his own all right.
Kristen stood up and walked around me with her hand out offering to shake Hunter’s hand, looking him up and down, smirking right back at Damien. “I’m sorry for your relations. I hope you’ll be a more agreeable specimen than Demon here.” Kristen elbowed Damien in the gut out of her way while Hunter and I both laughed. His slight smile appeared forced at first before relaxing with us, even briefly. She gave Hunter a businesslike handshake, maintaining her composure.
“That one saves all her finger erections just for me,” Damien sneered.
“It’s because you’re special, Demon.” Kristen stuck her tongue out at him, this time giving him an obvious flip of her middle finger.
I was left perpetually rolling my eyes at those two.
“You must be Kristen, then.” Hunter moved on to look down at me next and sat in the seat across from me.
My hands nervously tapped out the end of that Green Day song I liked and our eyes met, staring. He spied my cookie with a hungry possession and back at me again. I nodded, giving him permission to take it. As much as I wanted the sugary treat laden with fat chocolate chips, I wanted him to continue sitting at our table long after the bell rang. I wanted to sketch the angles of his face and the shadows the yellow hued lights of the cafeteria cast on him. He wasn’t cocky like Damien. Instead, it was his somberness I noticed first and the way he seemed to think everything through, from his reply to his movements.
Hunter Hart was obscenely good-looking, and I saw why all the girls tittered over his arrival. He took the cookie from my tray, unapologetically biting it with straight white teeth. As he chewed it, I noticed his eyes were a strange mix of greens and golds. His hand holding the half bitten cookie was red and a scab still healed over the knuckles. It looked wicked and raw, eliciting more questions in my head I didn’t have the guts to ask. When he finished chewing he addressed me directly, “You must be Taylor Jane.”
The way he said my entire first name made me shiver like I was in trouble. No one but my parents used my full name; a rarity for me, giving me a wicked feeling. Not bad, but I wouldn’t say first crush good either. Hunter was one of those serious boys, and I doubted whatever the rumors said about him were true. He didn’t seem the type to get in trouble with the law or whatever gossip Becky and Clarissa dished out, but there was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on. Something painful behind the glint in his eyes and the false carefree attitude he projected with us.
Interrupting our visual connection, Damien broke the spell before I could figure out what made him tick satisfying my curiosity. “Oh, Hunter, nobody calls Taylor by her full name. It’s not cool at all. In fact, I call her TJ, or T-Rex when we play hoops afterschool. I mean, just look at her cute shorty arms,” Damien chided his cousin playfully holding in his arms close to his body like a T-Rex and roaring. Hunter looked up at him with a peculiar expression that stopped his silly dinosaur interpretation right away.
“I am looking at her.”
That deep voice stirred something in me I was certain only senior girls, maybe juniors, knew anything about. My stomach grumbled and I wished I had that darn cookie to shove in my mouth so I wouldn’t be tempted to say anything stupid.
“Pfft, Damien, we haven’t played basketball since you decided it was dodge ball when Kristen and Chase came over last time.”
“Aw, TJ.” He made my name sound more like Teeged, embarrassing me.
I was awful at basketball and I think Damien only played it with me because I was even worse at catching footballs.
“That’s because you can’t make a basket to save your life.” Damien chortled.
Hunter watched our overly familiar conversation and seemed sad, but not quite. The boys exchanged some weird communication without words when Hunter suddenly spoke again.
