Authors: Jennifer Davis
I hated crowds, and
the lunchroom was packed, so we got junk food out of the vending machines instead.
This would become our ritual: buy our chips and colas, sit on “our” bench on
the breezeway, and talk and gossip until the bell rang. There was no better
way to spend lunch.
As the three of us
were getting better acquainted, I saw Max walking on the breezeway. His long
black hair was blowing in the wind. Just then, Johnny approached him. I just
melted at the sight of Johnny in his silk shirt and tight blue jeans. Johnny
had shoulder-length light brown hair and a deep-dark tan. He was tall and thin
and he truly was built like a Greek god. He had several of the buttons on his
shirt undone, and I could see that his chest was tanned and bare. He wore
sandals, and his feet were just as tan as the rest of him – at least the parts
of him I could see.
Max wasn’t nearly as
good-looking as Johnny, but I did love Max’s hair. It was long and silky,
hanging halfway down his back. He was shorter than Johnny, but he seemed
older. Max was wearing a blue button up shirt and black pants, but I hardly
noticed. Johnny had all of my attention.
I
pointed Johnny and Max out to Aurelia and Olivia, saying, “I think those guys
ride our bus, Aurelia.”
“You’re
right, Katrina. I saw them this morning.” Neither Olivia nor Aurelia
mentioned that either one of the boys was cute, so I didn’t either.
The
bell rang much too soon, and Aurelia, Olivia, and I returned to our
classrooms.
No one had ever
looked so forward to fifth period as I did that day. If it would get me away
from Mrs. Danes, fifth period would be my favorite – even if it was Geography.
When the bell rang ending fourth period, I flew out the door at warp speed.
Coach Dreyer
was the teacher, although he wasn’t much of one. He was the basketball coach,
and I suppose he had to have a class to teach. It should have been Basket
Weaving 101. He didn’t really seem to care about anything except his team –
and his star performer. We heard all about basketball but very little about
geography. To make matters worse, I didn’t know anyone. Almost the entire class
was male, and most of them were on the basketball team.
Even though I felt
out of place in geography, I still dreaded sixth period most of all: PE. When
the bell rang announcing the end of fifth period, I walked as slowly as
possible but, all too soon, I was in the gym. To my relief, Olivia was also in
sixth period PE. Our teacher was Mrs. Robinson, a very attractive yet
extremely stern woman. She would be someone that I could love one moment and
hate the next. But, unlike Mrs. Danes, she was always fair. Since it was the
first day, we just went over some rules; then we could do whatever we wanted to
do.
Olivia and I spent
most of the class talking. She told me about her family. She lived with her
mother and her brother Darrell. Olivia’s older sister Reba was married. I
told Olivia about my family, too. She showed interest in my brother Rick until
I told her that he had a wife and a young daughter.
Olivia and I were
going to be friends, and the thought thrilled me. We had a lot in common: we’d
both suffered ridicule about our weight and we were both quite desperate to
find the right guy. What better recipe for a friendship?
The bell finally rang
ending the first day. Olivia and I said goodbye and promised to look for each
other the next morning. I scampered off to my bus, and I was the first one to
get on it. Today hadn’t been so bad, and now I had my choice of any seat on
the bus. Just like a true nerd, I almost chose the front seat, but then I
realized that cool guys like Johnny wouldn’t sit in the front of the bus. So,
I sprinted back, selecting a seat three rows from the rear.
Just as I got
comfortable, Erma – the girl from my Algebra class – came running towards the
back seat. She gave me a smile – although it looked more like a sneer – as she
bounded past me. “What’s your name again?” she said. Her voice was gravelly
and deep.
I almost said,
“Katrina,” but I wanted to be cool. “Kat,” I mumbled instead.
“I’m a sophomore. Aren’t
you a freshman?” She wasn’t softening a bit.
“Yeah.” My voice was
cracking. Sometimes freshmen suffered harassment from upperclassmen.
“Are you good at
math?”
“Sort of.” My
breathing was coming in short bursts, and my heart was speeding.
“Good. I might need
some tutoring. I’m awful at math.” She had softened. She wanted my help.
“Sure,” I said. My
voice was back to normal; my vital signs were improving as well.
Up front, the Howdy Doody twins
were taking the front seats.
Their toothy smiles and
bright eyes enhanced their somewhat plain freckled faces.
Dressed in
matching clothes, these clean cut boys would have felt right at home in
Mayberry. They were more Opie than Ron Howard would ever be. They each had bright
red hair cut in a military style – differing only in that one parted his on the
right while the other one opted for the left: a real triumph for individualism.
Meanwhile, Johnny and Max had
arrived. With Johnny in the lead, the two friends were sauntering towards the
back seat as if they had all the time in the world. They passed me by as
though they had never seen me before. I refused to let myself look back as I
heard them speak to Erma. I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.
Aurelia and Dominique
stepped onto the bus, and Aurelia waved. Both girls headed towards me, and I
wondered which one would sit with me. Just then I felt a kerplunk on the seat
beside me. I felt like telling whoever the ignoramus was to get out of my seat
– the bus wasn’t half full yet. But that’s not the way of Katrina Kipling. No
pushing, no shoving, no talking back. A dirty look, maybe, but nothing more
substantial. Still, I turned to face the intruder. What a relief that no one
had a camera. It would be a shame if anyone had caught my surprised look on
film. The ill-mannered oaf turned out to be Max. Fortunately, he turned
around to talk to Johnny before catching my stunned expression. Aurelia and Dominique
seemed to be the only ones that saw, and they were giggling as they took the
seat in front of Max and me.
Now my heart was
really pumping. I could feel every beat pounding in my head. I grasped the
back of Aurelia and Dominique’s seat, and my knuckles started turning white.
Time stood still until the bus started moving. Max turned to face forward in
the seat. I tried to keep from looking in Max’s direction, but my eyes
wouldn’t listen. Max was staring right at me and he had a goofy grin on his
face.
I quickly looked
away. Aurelia would tell me later that my face turned fifteen shades of red.
I could certainly feel the heat in my cheeks. Max chuckled as he scooted down
in the seat and propped his knees against the back of Aurelia and Dominique’s
seat. “You don’t mind me sitting here, do you?” I sensed a note of sarcasm.
Unable to speak, I simply shook
my head. I heard him chuckle again. He turned around quickly, and I heard him
say, “Johnny...,” and then, just as quickly, he turned back around and slid
over closer to me. I could feel his body heat, and I was sure he could feel
mine as well.
With my head bent forward, I
permitted myself to slightly glance in Max’s direction. His arm was touching
mine, and I noticed the thick black hair that covered it. As I allowed my eyes
to move slowly up his body, I discovered that his chest was just as hairy as
his arm. The most surprising part of all was that I thought this was the
coolest thing I’d ever seen. Max’s hairy chest was so much more exciting than
Johnny’s bare chest. At that moment, Max replaced Johnny and every other boy
in my heart. I decided right then that I could never love another. One
percent true love; ninety-nine percent raging hormones.
We had reached
the first bus stop. Aurelia and Dominique got up to leave. They told me
goodbye, but I could only smile and nod. I kept wondering if Max would move,
but he didn’t. Our stop was the last one, and I hoped he’d stay beside me all
the way.
On our way to the next stop, Mason
Pearson – the pimpled kid from my bus stop – walked down the aisle and stopped
beside Max. “Is this your new girlfriend, Max?” he asked. A wide comical grin
covered his face, and for the first time I noticed that his ears stuck way out
from his head. If I hadn’t been so mortified by his taunting remark, I might
have laughed. Instead, I fought back stinging tears and turned my face towards
the window. Max, however, was undaunted. “Shut up, Mason. You are neither
funny nor smart. Sit down.”
Max remained next to me
throughout the bus ride. He also allowed me to go in front of him as we
exited. I noticed that Tracy was watching both of us, but I wasn’t sure what
she was thinking. I got off the bus and rushed home for two reasons. Number
one: I didn’t want to find out what Tracy was thinking. Number two: I had to
get out of that dress.
At home, I found myself thinking
about Max and Mason. Did Max react because Mason offended him or embarrassed
me? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. The love bug had bitten me and now
anything coming out of Max’s mouth was a compliment. I made up my mind that
Max would someday be mine – even if it killed him – and with that decision
made, I picked up the phone to call my best friend in the world, Donna.
“Beep-beep. Beep-beep.”
The alarm on my cell phone told
me that I was late for work. Shoving my half-eaten sandwich into a crinkled
paper bag, I jumped off the garden bench and rushed to my car. I barely
noticed the blooming azaleas and the tiny rosebuds peeking out at the beautiful
spring day. A red Corvette cut me off at the garden exit, and I shook my fist
and cursed. The obscurity of a vehicle could work wonders for the weak of
spirit.
Once back at work, I hurried
quickly to my desk. I marveled that I was only ten minutes late. I heard Brad
mumbling about something over in his office across the hall and wondered if
anyone had even missed me.
Brad and I were part of our
company’s Information Technology Team. I was the Operations Analyst and a
part-time programmer; Brad was the Senior Programmer as well as a Systems
Analyst. Together we kept Bigelow Exports functioning, although our boss Nancy
Martin took most of the credit. This would be my fourteenth year at Bigelow’s
while Brad was working on year sixteen. Nancy – who was younger and less experienced
than any of us – would be celebrating year number five.
Brad Hanover was a quirky guy.
Married three times – and equally divorced – he took life as it came, and he
complained about it. Nothing, it seemed, ever went right for him. Wife number
one found another lover before anniversary number one. Wife number two stuck
around for three years – long enough to let Brad pay her way through college.
Wife number three spent Brad’s money before he earned it, sending him into
bankruptcy court and divorce court all in the same year. He’d stayed single
for the past five years.
In the beginning, I’d felt a
certain attraction for this sandy-haired, baby-faced, worrier. At five
feet-six inches, he certainly satisfied my penchant for shorter men. We also
got along famously. For all his worrying, I treated him with generous doses of
humor and optimism. Now, after fourteen years, I was glad we were only
friends. An office romance can cause all kinds of problems, especially if the
romance ends badly. And with Brad’s track record, I was willing to bet a
week’s wages on any of his relationships ending badly. The years, or perhaps
all the constant worry, had not been kind to Brad. He was losing most of his
hair on top, and the rest of it was gray. His baby-face had grown tired, and
deeply entrenched wrinkles replaced his laugh lines and dimples. Sometimes it seemed
that my friendship with Brad was the only thing that kept me sane at work.
Brad was still mumbling when
Nancy walked into my office. Oh no. Here comes the lecture.
“You were late getting back from
lunch.” I pretended to be working and ignored Nancy’s remark. I knew I was
late, but I often came to work early. I usually stayed late as well.
“Katrina,” Nancy always
pronounced my name wrong – Kay-Trina, with a pause after Kay, “I need to talk
to you.”
I stopped looking at my PC and
turned to face Nancy. She was difficult to look at. Her stylish red hair had
never seen a bad hair day; it always held in place and curled in the right
direction. Her petite oval face had a creamy complexion, and no blemish had
ever flourished there. Black eyeliner ringed her almond-shaped eyes, enhancing
their shape and increasing their size – as if they weren’t big enough already.
Those perfect eyes were emerald green, and they sparkled even in the
fluorescent light. Her nose was so flawless that I sometimes fantasized about
breaking it just to give it character. Her mouth housed immaculate teeth.
Exquisite pouty lips wore lipstick that never smudged, faded, or streaked.
Need I point out that her body could make men beg and women cry? Women like me
anyway.
“Can’t it wait?” I was trying to
put off the inevitable. “I need to review the payroll data.”