Andrea and the 5-Day Challenge (3 page)

“Oh, that.” A snort escaped me. “Trust me, we didn't miss anything but Dion Washington and Mike McCutcheon making fools out of themselves in front of their audience.”

He crossed his arms and laughed. “You crack me up, Andrea.”

I cracked him up? That's me—stand-up comedian.
Not!
“Well, at least I'm good for a laugh. It would be sad to go through life without any skills.”

He chuckled, and then leaned over the desk between us. “So, you planning to dress up for Superhero Day tomorrow?”

“Superhero Day? Are you kidding? That's the last thing I'd spend my time on.”
Liar!
I totally had superhero comics under my bed, all the feature films of a certain caped crusader and even the DVDs of several animated series. Fanatic? Uh, yeah.

“Not your thing, huh?'

I was in the middle of coming up with a rousing response on why superheroes have tainted the American teenager when the partially ajar door to the classroom sprang the rest of the way open and banged into the wall.

I jumped from my seat like we were in the middle of something…well, improper. Unfortunately, the one-piece desk did not allow a person to jump from the seat, and I banged the tabletop with my knobby knees and plunged my back into the chair backrest. I slid down into the seat—with throbbing knees and a scraped-up back. With that stupid move, there would probably even be bleeding involved.

Worst of all (even worse than the bruise currently forming on my knee), it was Stephanie Ruiz who'd interrupted the interlude between Luke and me. Except that it wasn't an interlude. It was business. Tutoring. It was not me being alone in a classroom with one of the cutest guys in school for a smooch-fest.

From Stephanie's expression, I wondered if she'd ever believe the truth.

Luke easily rose from the desk without bumping any of his well-formed limbs. “Andrea, are you OK?”

Swinging my legs away from the desk, I exited that contraption and hobbled to the window. Space between us was much needed, especially with the cheer co-captain and student council secretary in the room—she and her cheerleading skirt, displaying the burgundy and gold Aubrey Academy colors and her magnificently long legs. And when she does the splits, trust me, everyone is impressed.

“I'm great. Just a little disagreement between the desk and me.”

“I think it won,” Luke quipped.

I turned back and couldn't help smiling at him in response. “Yeah, I think so.” The warmth of his smile almost made me forget about my injuries.

We both resumed our seats just as Stephanie approached us.

“Hey, Luke.” Stephanie said a lot in those two words. It was like a greeting and an invitation wrapped up between her velvet-brown skin and almond-shaped eyes. Not surprising, as Stephanie was the type of girl who texted semi-inappropriate pictures of herself to boys. OK, that was only rumor but…eek! My mom says the only reason girls do that is because they're insecure, but Stephanie Ruiz did not seem insecure, considering the way she stood there checking out Luke's deep brown eyes.

Since the last week of August, Stephanie had been going out with Dion Washington (the same Dion Washington who'd been flirting with Amy today at lunch), and they'd just broken up last week. Her presence before the bell for a class to which she is habitually late could only mean one thing. She thought Luke would make the perfect date for homecoming. It was either that, or she had definite personal space issues with how close she was standing to him.

“Hi, Stephanie, ready for that quiz?” Luke addressed her in his kind and sincere tone.

“Quiz? Oh, yeah, the Geometry quiz.” She set her hands on her hips in true cheerleader fashion. “Sure, I guess. Um, I was wondering…” She smiled, showing her lovely pearly white teeth.

Here she goes. She would ask him, and he would say yes.

Well, what did I care? Stephanie and Luke would make a cute couple with his bronzed California tan and her dark tones. Who was I to stand in the way of the greatest love match since Clark Kent and Lois Lane. I gripped the desk, bracing myself as if I were experiencing a plane crash, while trying to force a completely disinterested look on my face.

Her smile lessened as she pushed her lips outward into a pout, trying to get him to notice and imagine what it would be like to kiss her, I'd bet.

“I was wondering, Luke, if you're planning to go to homecoming?”

“Oh yeah, homecoming is this week.” His gaze drifted over to me for a split second, and then returned to Stephanie. “I'm not really sure, to be honest.”

She rested her hands on his desk, going in for the kill. “Well, the homecoming Decorating Committee could sure use someone tall and strong like you on Friday.” Eek! Could she fawn over him more than that? What would she do next—purr?

I'd had enough. Time to disappear. I stood, but Luke stealthily covered my hand, impeding my cowardly retreat. What was he doing? Didn't he know that touching in public does not denote friendship or tutelageship? Whatever word best described our relationship. Relationship! We had no relationship.

However, I forgot to question his actions any further when he looked at me.

“What do you think, Andrea? Sounds like fun, right?”

Fun? Was he out of his mind and oh, my gosh, why was he asking me?

The bell rang at that moment, eclipsing whatever response I might have come up with spur of the moment.

Students began filing inside followed by the re-entry of my wonderful Geometry teacher. I'd never been happier to see Mr. Carter and his mustache-adorned face.

“Toodles.” Stephanie waved, and then stepped back to talk to one of her other friends. Had she really just said “toodles”? Why did she have to comprise every cliché attached to a cheerleader? (Alisha, who'd been a cheerleader for two years, seemed to be one of the exceptions to this phenomenon.)

For once, I wished one of the long-legged starlets would engage me in a thoughtful discussion. Like why Nick Carraway is the point-of-view character in
The Great Gatsby
or if the medieval world really believed the earth to be flat before Columbus. I'd even settle for a discourse on who were the best current actors
,
since they all loved the latest movies.

With Stephanie otherwise employed, Luke stood with his textbook. He slanted his head toward mine before moving to the front of the room. “Thanks again for the study help, Andrea. Hope you do great on the quiz.”

“Yeah, you, too.” What else could I say, especially with those dark eyes sparkling like some kind of precious gem? The fluorescent lights were playing with my eyesight again.

The second bell rang and Mr. Carter addressed the class while rubbing his hands together. “So, you all ready for that quiz?”

I was ready for the loony bin, but bring it on. Bring it all on. I could take it.

 

~*~

 

Amy and Angie were waiting for me when I emerged from class. They had mirror images of the same annoying smile on their faces. Was my life the only excitement they had going on in their pathetic existences? I had half a mind to just keep walking right by them.
Like I could.
They flanked me on each side as we moved among the herd of students in the hallway. We made it to Amy's locker, and then the questions began to fly.

“Where's Luke?” Angie asked, folding hair behind her ear and revealing the many studs in her lobe.

“How should I know? Why are you even…”

“Come on, Andrea, spill. What happened before Geometry?” Amy interrupted.

“Nothing happened.” I leaned back into the lockers beside Amy's. “We went over a proof, and then class started.”

“And after class?” Angie's voice filled with unsavory suggestion.

“Angie!” My forehead wrinkled with consternation—at least I hoped it did. “I thought you gave up on men.”

“No, Andrea, boys. Aubrey boys. But Luke hasn't proven himself to be a total sleaze-ball. There may be hope for him yet.”

“Luke's great,” I replied. From the looks on their faces, that was totally the wrong response, especially as I sighed afterward. It seemed to make them salivate for more of me exposing my innermost heart and soul. “Uuh, you guys.” I covered my face with my books. “There isn't anything going on, so forget it.”

Amy lowered the books in front of me. “Trust me, you want to ask Luke.” She arched her sandy blonde eyebrows resolutely. What did she know?

I frowned at her. “I believe we had a similar conversation this morning when you encouraged me to ask Luke Ryan to homecoming and my response hasn't changed. It's still…” And then I spied Luke coming up between Angie and Amy.
Dear Lord!
I was going to be sick. A buzzing erupted in my ears. “I've got to go now.”

I pushed past them and darted through the crowd to the girl's bathroom. I knew I had to be quick. Luke played sports so there existed a definite possibility he could catch me even with my freakishly long legs. I pushed through the door and leaned against the wall.

Shoot!
He'd heard everything. Everything—including the part where I'd contemplated asking him out. I could never talk to him ever again. It was over. Humiliation snaked down my back. I felt completely nauseous with my stomach churning my frustration over and over. Good thing I was already in the restroom. Well, I would just have to hide out for now because no way could I face Luke.
Ever!

Even if that meant I had to miss English, even if it meant I flunked
The Scarlet Letter
test, even if I got detention for ditching class—it would be worth it.

Of course, Mom would never understand why I got detention for hiding out in the bathroom, or the F, for that matter. She'd want to know the whole embarrassing story, and I'd dealt with enough mortification for one day, thank you very much.

I cracked the bathroom door open and peeked out. No sign of Luke. Uh, I'm such an idiot. He heard and he doesn't care what I said. Either that or he was avoiding me as if I were Chuck Willis—who wears socks with his sandals.

This is what I got for contemplating change. I should know better. Like the last time I took it into my head to be adventurous. On the other hand, maybe I was just making this out to be something bigger than it really was. I'm sixteen years old and here I was acting like a middle schooler.

Luke definitely wasn't Jeff. He would never treat me like that, would he?

Possibly, Luke had waited but he'd had to get on his way to Senior English. How pathetic was it that I had his entire schedule memorized? OK, I might have a teeny bit of a crush on him after all, and it just took my kooky friends to open my eyes.

Still, I'd been much happier being blissfully ignorant of my heart's condition.

 

 

 

 

3

 

I entered AP Junior English and sank into a seat three seconds before the bell erupted. My heart continued to hammer from the necessity of running the entire way from my locker so as to avoid one of the infamous tardies given out by Mrs. Holloway.

“Where have you been?” Amy whispered from her seat behind me.

“Bathroom.”

“Are you OK? What happened back there?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you know Luke was looking for you?”

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Mrs. Holloway quieted down the class and instructed us to take the next five minutes to study
The
Scarlet Letter
notes.

I felt pretty good about the test. I'd spent all last night studying for it, but for good measure, I pulled out my notes and let my gaze skim down the page. It had the secondary benefit of possibly detracting Amy from talking to me.

My ears, however, couldn't help but take in Stephanie Ruiz whispering rather loudly to her friend, Julie Chung, sitting diagonally across the aisle from me. Stephanie sat sideways in the desk with her stunning legs crossed under her barely-in-dress-code cheer skirt. (FYI: The entire cheer squad was arrayed today in full-dress due to Spirit Week.) She looked so sure of herself as she shook her long, brown-black hair behind her shoulders. “It's only a matter of time. He said he's more than happy to help me decorate for homecoming on Friday. The next time I see Luke Ryan he'll be popping the question.”

“What question?” Julie asked. As usual, Julie proved herself to be a bit dimwitted as she fluffed at her bobbed and smooth-as-silk black hair. How had she ever ended up in this class? Of course, who am I to judge? Julie might have a higher grammatical aptitude than her apparent logical thinking skills. She and I had actually been on friendly terms back in elementary, but then she moved into the popular crowd and I…well, I didn't.

The second-in-command cheerleader scrunched her face up into a scowl. “Homecoming, you moron. He's going to ask me.” It was nice to know Stephanie treated her friends with just as much compassion as the rest of us nobodies. How equal opportunity of her.

Mrs. Holloway rang the bell she always kept on her desk, alerting us that study time had come to an end.

Just like my social life—if I'd ever had one to begin with. The sound of papers rustling and books shifting resonated around the classroom. The test papers were handed down the aisles. The last thing I could focus on was
The Scarlet Letter
and poor Hester Prynne and the adulterous Reverend Dimmesdale. What about poor Luke?

Stephanie really did have her designs set on him. It was no longer just my imagination. The worst part was that she only wanted him to ask her out because he was new—a novelty. Her latest toy. More than that, I'm betting she needed a Dion-like replica to save face at the banquet. Not that Luke looked anything like Dion, but with the way Luke's reputation had preceded him as some amazing sports star, added to the fact that he is not too unpleasant to look at, and…well, she'd found her new arm decoration.