Andrea and the 5-Day Challenge (7 page)

“Hi.” It was all I could say because, yes, Luke had dressed like the aforementioned CK. Other kids might not recognize him right away, but how could I not? There he was in a gray-colored suit and loosened blue tie with black-framed glasses in front of his stunning brown eyes and a felt-type hat on his head.

Why had he chosen to dress like CK and even sign the note with those initials? I had totally dissed the whole superhero genre yesterday. How did he know I was totally full of it?

He took a relaxed pose as he leaned into the lockers and crossed his ankles. With his index finger, he tipped his hat back, and a gorgeous smile crinkled his mouth and eyes. Was he trying to torture me?

None of these thoughts were likely to make me articulate, added to the remembrance of what a marshmallow head I'd been during yesterday's display. Before any other words passed between us, I dropped the flowers on top of my Spanish book, grabbed my Bible and Physics book—ready for homeroom and first period—and slammed the locker door.

“Daisies,” he said. “I remembered you said you liked daisies.”

“Um, yeah, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

I didn't know what to say after that. So instead of coming up with the slightest thoughtful response, I just continued my habitual faux pas in the presence of Luke. “Cute outfit. I'll see you later. Gotta get to homeroom.” Then I turned and rushed down the hallway hoping against all hope he wouldn't follow me.

Five steps, six steps. I blew out a breath.

He wasn't following. Why wasn't he following?

Cute outfit?
Had I really said that? (How lame am I?) No wonder he wasn't following. Not that I wanted him to. All I wanted was to be left alone so I could suffer through another day of school and escape back home where my mom and dad had high hopes of me catching the attention of the performing arts school reps on Saturday.

Could life get any better than this?

 

~*~

 

Providence had been my friend today as I hadn't had to face Luke since that embarrassing moment in the hallway. He'd even kept his distance after history class. Maybe I'd finally done permanent damage and he'd never speak to me again.

What was wrong with me? I should have talked to him this morning. He was just being nice and taking the time to thank me for all my help in Geometry with the flowers. And all I could say was “cute outfit” before brushing him off and sashaying off to class? I'm a horrible person and don't deserve as good a friend as he is.

While sitting at lunch with my friends, I couldn't even concentrate as Angie aired her consternation at the social injustice of some ill-concocted bylaw of the mayor's. She'd even painted signs to picket city hall after school. This was just one of the many items Angie took notice of in this world. At times, she made me feel unworthy of being a citizen because there were just so many terrible things happening that I'd neglected to observe going on all around me.

And yet, I had to admit I just didn't care—at least enough. Sure, I wanted the orphans in Zimbabwe to hear the message of Christ and to have enough food to eat, and shelter from the cold at night. (It got cold at night in Zimbabwe, right?) But how could I concentrate when my life had taken such a sharp turn this week—before Amy hatefully hinted that Luke Ryan was just the person to ask to homecoming, and then this morning that he might be “
the One”
—
my One
. And good ‘ole Luke wasn't making this any easier by leaving me notes and flowers and smiling at me the way he did before school. Not to mention the fact that I might be changing schools in less than two weeks!

My life had trudged along with simplicity before yesterday. Boring it might have been, but I was used to boring. If I could just avoid Luke for two more days, then homecoming would be over and things might return to the mundane normalcy for which I craved.
Ha!

But normalcy was just not in the cards for me.

Luke—minus the hat and glasses—had risen from his seat a few tables away and was coming right for us.

I lowered my gaze back to my veggie burger on a wheat bun. Somehow, I had to take another bite and swallow it. Of course, to do so would certainly end in choking, and then someone would have to do the Heimlich maneuver on me. With all the craziness surrounding me, it would end up being Luke, which meant he'd have to roughly compress food out of my air passage and touch me in places I just wasn't prepared to experience in the middle of the high school cafeteria. Instead, I sipped at my soda. Much safer.

Luke sat backwards on the bench next to me and rested against the table. “Hi.”

How could he sound so calm as if he came and sat at my table every day?

I swallowed the liquid in my throat. “Hey.”

“Looking forward to the rally?”

The pep rally? I'd rather take a pop Geometry test. It was sad, but I really had no school spirit. However, I didn't need Luke to know how apathetic I'd become. “Um, sure.”

“Great, see you there.” How amazing was it the way his eyes could sparkle in any type of lighting? Then he rose to his over six-foot height, brushed his golden-brown bangs back from his wonderful eyes, and proceeded out the door with Dion and Mike.

After dispelling a breath, I bravely turned to face my friends. I could just imagine what they were all thinking.

With their mouths slightly ajar and bemused expressions in their eyes, they just stared at me for a good ten seconds before I couldn't take it anymore.

“OK, let's have it.” I slammed my hands down on my lunch tray and knocked my soda over, soaking my veggie burger and said wheat bun in the process. What was wrong with me? I was acting like an insane person.

Angie smiled—the one rife with suggestion. “All I can say is, he's a charmer, that Luke Ryan.”

She didn't know the half of it, and I nearly sighed at the thought.

“Watch out, Andrea,” Angie continued. “He's the type who takes no prisoners.”

I didn't know exactly what she meant, but I could guess. Could Luke be the type of guy who once he made up his mind, it was set? This type of behavior rang similarly true to Mr. Darcy's personality. An image of Luke appeared in my mind seeming very Darcy-like. Darn Mrs. Sims for forcing us to read that dreaded
Pride and Prejudice
in ninth grade and even more for Amy mentioning it this morning. Not that Luke thought of me in that way. My friends were wrong. Luke had no intention of wooing or charming me.
Yeah, right!

“Please, you guys, just forget it.” I covered my face. Maybe this way I could drive out those consuming images of Luke.

“Andrea, just tell us what you think of Luke,” said Amy. “He seems to really like you.”

I spread my fingers open and peered at them through the spaces, but didn't say a word. How could I tell them that Luke couldn't possibly like me as more than a friend and had only asked me to homecoming because he didn't want to hurt my feelings? He'd even said I might go if I had a ”friend” to go with. Not that there was anything wrong with that…exactly.

Alisha, the keen observer, spoke at last. “If you ask me, I think he sees you as one big challenge.” Alisha had the most experience with boys and had even gone out with Troy Miller for two years until he graduated last year. She should know what she was talking about, but I couldn't accept it.

I laid my hands on the table. “I'm not a challenge. You guys know that. There is nothing interesting about me.”

“I think Luke would beg to differ,” Angie broke in. “I say go for it.”

“Andi, stop selling yourself short,” said Amy. “‘
Faint heart never won fair lady…er…boy'
. That's Cervantes…kinda. Remember, from
Don Quixote
?”

They really were going to kill me. Now Amy had lowered herself to quoting Cervantes from Spanish class just to get a response? She'd tried a lot of things on me, but this?

How had my life become so fraught with drama?

 

 

 

 

6

 

I made it to the football field with the pep rally in full force. Cheerleaders were screaming and stirring up the crowd just as they're supposed to do…I guess.

Where had Luke disappeared off to? I'd only subjected myself to all this school spirit among students dressed as ridiculous superhero wannabes because he expected me. Otherwise, I would still be ensconced in the caf, reading a book or talking with Amy.

Speaking of my supposed friends, they were at the rally, too. For some reason, they all thought it their duty to be here today. Now, Alisha I could understand. She'd been a cheerleader during freshman and sophomore year and attended lots of school activities. She'd even agreed to go with Mike McCutcheon (one of the football players) to homecoming.

Angie, on the other hand, despised anything school sanctioned to the point of picketing certain events she deemed offensive to womankind.

Amy and I were just sort of indifferent to school activities. Even though Amy is editor of the school paper, she doesn't get too involved and believes in delegating assignments. We might go to a basketball or football game if there was nothing else to do, and we did attend the spring musical last year. Amy was reviewing it for the paper, after all.

Yet, there they all were, climbing into the stands to the very top level as I meandered through the grass, scoping out the crowd in search of Luke, in vain. I gave up and took a seat on the third row way down at the end. Why had I wasted a perfectly good ten minutes out here in the mid-October weather when I could have enjoyed solitude and quiet back in the school building? Oh, right, because Luke said he'd see me at the rally. I guess that whole stopping at my table thing had been cute, but nothing more than that. He hadn't meant, “I'll find you and sit with you during the rally.” It had been more a “You're going, too—cool” kind of comment.

When would I figure out the signals this guy was sending me? I was not good at boy-girl interrelations. But it was Day 2 of my Challenge, and I sincerely prayed God did indeed have a plan for the mess I'd made yesterday. I wanted to be a good friend to Luke and so here I sat, waiting to see what would happen.

The metal bench creaked and lurched forward a millimeter as someone took the seat next to mine. “Hey.” It was Luke's voice spearing through the roar and riotousness going on all around us. His hand clutched the bench and his fingers grazed mine.

A tingly sensation coursed up my arm, and I had an inclination to shiver, which sure wasn't because of the sunny, seventy-two degree weather. I had to remind myself it was just my
friend
, Luke, with whom I was NOT going to homecoming.

I hoped my face hadn't turned all pink and blotchy. The sight of him set my heart going about a thousand beats a minute. “I was looking for you,” I yelled over the bellowing multitude.

“Yeah, I saw you. We're sitting over there in the middle.” He motioned to the non-football player jocks who had collected together for the pep rally. The idea of sitting there with all of them—with Luke—made me a little queasy.

“You know, I think I'm just going to sit right here.” I patted the bench and accidentally touched his fingers, and not just a brush. A full-on touch. And just as quickly as it had happened, I folded my hands together in my lap. No doubt, my face had now morphed into the magenta realm of the color spectrum. I focused on the cheerleaders on the field. “I'm not really one for pep rallies.”

Luke moved closer so I could hear him. “They are pretty loud. I think they're even worse in the gym during basketball season.” His deep voice rumbled in my ear.

I needed to think clearly and make some kind of coherent response. “Yeah, because everyone starts stomping on the benches and floors.”

“Exactly! Really gets the heart pumping.” He meant that as a good thing.

I, on the other hand, could think of a million other things I'd rather be doing. This Luke-thing would never work. Not that it was really even an option. I'd come today to be nice since he asked, but no way could I go to homecoming with Luke. The expectations alone made my breath stick in my throat.

It wasn't only my parents, either. I could just see the popular girls the Monday after homecoming, tapping their feet and shaking their heads while watching me walk down the hallway. ”
There goes that Andrea Jamison, who thinks she's good enough to be with Luke Ryan
.” I shuddered this time, but I don't think Luke noticed. He was busy clapping and howling with the rest of the crowd as the team members were introduced.

I leaned in near Luke, and he smelled really great—like something fresh and clean. He looked incredibly good in a suit and tie and I almost couldn't speak. “I…I think I'm going to go back inside before the crowd converges.”

“Sure, OK.”

I'd assumed that to be the end of our conversation, but he turned his gaze to mine and smiled. “I'll go with you.” Then he stood with me and took my hand to help me down the unsteady bleacher.

I thought I might just die then and there. Who was this guy? He was a seventeen-year-old gentleman. Did they even come like that these days? He was supposed to wear baggy shorts and have scraggly hair while he grunted rather than spoke to a girl, but instead this one had politely helped this girl down out of the football stands and planned to escort her back to her locker.
Well, knock me over with a leaf blower.

Then I happened to glance up at my friends. The rest of A-Company were watching us. Angie gave me the thumbs up and all three smiled broadly.

What I wouldn't have given to have had heat vision power at that moment. Then I could have easily turned them into smoldering embers with the look I bestowed upon them. However, I didn't have time to think about them for long—not when Luke started talking to me.