Hoodie (21 page)

They tried to resume work on their paper, but it was pointless. It was so frustrating, in fact, that Anton gave up and went back to his seat before class was over. Emma was grateful that he left her alone. She felt an explosive mixture of emotions inside of her threatening to detonate. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. It was miserable being trapped inside those emotions, but she could do nothing. She had to cope until she could find a way to deactivate the bomb.

She did not acknowledge him when she passed him out the door after the bell rang. She headed straight for her locker and began changing out her books. She thought he would follow her and want to talk some more, but he didn’t. She turned around to see him joking with his friends. It irritated her. She was a mess inside and he was laughing. How could he be so calm when she felt out of control? She thought that perhaps he was putting on a show, but he seemed genuinely at ease. How do guys do that, she wondered? Do they have limited emotions, or are they simply able to handle them better? Either way she felt the cards were dealt unfairly, and she sunk into sullenness behind her locker door.

She did not see much of Anton for the rest of the day. It was almost as if he weren’t at school. She usually saw him at the lockers between classes, but he showed only a few times and was always flanked by his friends. She watched him chat and laugh and rough house with them. They seemed very close, and her heart stiffened with envy. What was wrong with her, she thought? She felt herself transforming into that girl—the jealous girl who wants her boyfriend all to herself all of the time. And then she laughed derisively, hiding her head in her locker, thinking that she was a fool for even contemplating the idea that he was her boyfriend. They never said anything about that last night.

She knew her anger was unjustified. She wanted to be frustrated with him for his casual manner, but he was only doing what he normally did at school. She was the one who pushed him away with her behavior earlier in English class. Did she expect him to go running after her all day? And she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t want anyone to know. Certainly not Morgan, she thought. At least not yet. If whatever it was they were doing blossomed into something more, she knew she would have to tell her. But it seemed easier to keep things as they were however confused it made her feel.

He came to her at the end of the day. She was walking to her car when he caught up with her.

“I gotta work today,” he said. “So I guess I won’t be seein’ you later.”

“Okay.”

“And I gotta work tomorrow night, too,” he added.

“Alright.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, I don’t believe you, but I ain’t got time to go into it,” he said. “You still want me to come over on Saturday?”

“If you want.” She tried for indifference.

He chuckled. “A’ight then. I’ll call you.” And he hoofed it to the bus.

She couldn’t understand why he didn’t ask for a ride home. She would have gladly given it, and then she spotted one of his friends. He was hanging around the bus watching them, waiting for Anton. He slapped Anton on the arm when he approached and said something that made them both laugh. They disappeared onto the bus, and she stood watching as it pulled away.

Saturday, May 1

“I didn’t leave nothin’ in Dr. Thompson’s room that time,” Anton said watching her squeeze juice from a lemon into her water.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

They were sitting at the table in her back yard working on their project. She had gotten over her moodiness from the past few days the moment her doorbell rang. It was instantaneous; her emotions lifted and she was a different person as soon as he stood at her front door.

“Remember when this whole thing started and how you had to go complain to Dr. Thompson about me not bein’ serious enough for you?”

“Oh that,” she said. “What about it?”

“Well, I was walkin’ by the room and saw you in there. I knew what you was up to. I knew you was mad and tattlin’ on me,” Anton said.

He grabbed her water and took a long gulp.

“Hey! I did the work there! Next time you’re slicing and squeezing the lemons,” she said, watching him drain most of her glass. “And anyway, I wasn’t tattling.”

“Oh who you kiddin’? You was all up in that room whinin’ ‘cause you couldn’t get yo’ way,” Anton replied handing her the nearly-empty glass.

“Whatever.”

“So that’s why I went in and acted like I forgot somethin’. I didn’t want you to get yo’ way. I wanted to make sure we was still gonna be partners.”

Emma looked at him as he made the realization known.

“You liked me then?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

They were silent for a moment.

“And you don’t even know what that was like for me. All that waitin’ and hopin’ you was gonna like me or make a move or somethin’. I thought I was gonna die when you came back to my house Monday. It was so hard to play it cool, and I don’t know how I was able to do that after waitin’ so long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to grab you and kiss you as soon as you walked through my door. I knew what you was up to. Missin’ bracelet. Please, girl. I ain’t never seen you wear no bracelet.”

Emma grinned. “You made me pretend to look around for a bracelet and then when I finally found the courage to ask you to kiss me, you made me wait for it?!”

“Yep. That was so hard,” Anton replied.

“Hard? Hard for whom?!” she asked.

“Hard for me.”

“Oh, you’re impossible!” she cried throwing a lemon at his head. It bounced off his left temple and landed on the stone patio.

“Ow! That hurt!” he said, jumping from his chair and reaching across the table for her.

She evaded his grip and sprinted across the patio to the center of the lawn feeling him behind her. She dashed to the left and hid behind a bench swing. He was on the other side.

“Where you think you gonna go?” he asked.

She was breathing fast and thinking fast. Which way would she go? To the right and back towards the house to hide in her room? Or to the left deeper into the back yard to hide behind the rose bushes? Which way? She chose the left, and ran with all her might. She was almost there when she felt his arm come around her waist and pull her to the ground. She screamed and squirmed to get away, but she was no match for his strength. He had at least eighty pounds on her.

Anton pinned her arms overhead, deciding what to do with her.

“Okay, so you hit me with a lemon,” he said. “What’s a good payback?”

She squirmed and fought to release her hands. He had them clasped with his one.

“I could tickle you,” he said placing his free hand on her ribcage.

Her eyes went wide with fear.

“I could kiss you,” he said.

She nodded at that.

“But that ain’t no punishment,” he argued.

She fought a bit more before giving up completely.

“I do love kissing you, though,” he decided. “It’s no punishment really, but it’d still be somethin’ for me.”

He released her hands and cupped her face softly making sure to put most of his weight on his elbows.

“You so pretty,” he said tenderly staring into her eyes. He pressed his lips to hers feeling her body respond beneath him. He let his lips linger on hers before drawing away from her face to look down at her again.

“God, you so pretty,” he said as he felt her pull him towards her lips once more.

***

She was glowing and her friends saw it. They were sitting around Morgan’s room deciding what to do that night. Emma knew what she would rather be doing, but Anton had to work. It was probably a good thing, she thought. Space from him would remind her that she was still living in the real world. And she had friends who she deeply cared about. She did not want to turn into one of those girls who abandons her girlfriends for a guy, no matter how cute, she thought with a grin.

“Okay, spill it,” Sarah said, sitting on the floor painting her nails.

“Spill what?” Emma asked.

“What is up with you? You’ve been grinning all night,” Sarah replied.

“Have I? I didn’t notice,” Emma said, and went back to flipping through the pages of her magazine.

“Are you high?” Morgan asked. “And where can we get some?”

“Oh my God, Morgan! No, I’m not high! Can’t I smile and be happy?”

“Are you in love?” Aubrey asked.

Yes, she wanted to say. My God, yes! But she didn’t.

“Have you seen me with anyone?” Emma asked.

Aubrey and Sarah shrugged, but Morgan was not convinced. She decided to trap her into confessing.

“How’s your project going with Mr. Thug?” she asked brushing her hair in the mirror.

“You’re seriously calling him that?” Emma asked.

“Whatever. Tell us about your project,” Morgan replied. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”

“It’s going fine. We’re almost finished with it,” she said. She hoped that her face wasn’t blushing.

“Does he actually work, or does he expect you to do everything?” Sarah asked.

“He works. I work. We both work.”

“Emma, I’m gonna be honest with you about something. And I don’t want to hear any shit from you, Morgan,” Aubrey began.

Aubrey, too, was on the bed with Emma flipping through fashion and gossip magazines. Morgan made a face at her.

“I think he’s cute,” Aubrey confessed.

Emma laughed.

“What? Yes, I know he’s black. But there’s just something about him. He’s like a nice bad boy, or at least that’s what I imagine. When he came into Calculus class that one day and apologized to you, I thought I was gonna die. So sweet!”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Morgan muttered.

“You know, Morgan, you haven’t got one romantic bone in your body,” Aubrey said.

“What happened in Calculus class?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, I never told you?” Aubrey said excitedly. She loved the opportunity to tell stories.

Emma forced herself to remain detached as she listened. She sensed that Morgan was on to her and wanted to squash her suspicions. She was not ready to tell her friends.

“So, he comes in after the bell already rang,” Aubrey began. “And Mrs. Hartsford was like, what are you doing in my class? And he was like, hold up, I just need to talk to her. And he pointed at Emma. Emma, what’s his name?”

“Anton.”

“Okay, so Anton points at Emma and she looks petrified. And the whole class is listening as he tells her he’s sorry for calling her a bitch,” Aubrey said.

“He called you a bitch?!” Sarah cried. She fanned her hands trying to dry her freshly-painted nails faster. “Where have I been?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Emma said lamely.

“What does that mean?” Morgan asked. She had stopped brushing her hair and was looking Emma square in the face.