Miss Taken (19 page)

It was probably the worst idea I had had in a
while, and that is saying something. All I could do was to think
about Ned. This was where we first met. This was where we came to
an understanding about his bad smoking habit. This was where we had
made up from another fight.

It was also where he dumped me.

I sat down, not caring about mud or trash or
anything and dissolved into a giant puddle. I was almost fifteen
years old and had accomplished exactly nothing meaningful in my
life. Fifteen wasted years, having only mastered all mathematical
concepts up through college level and read almost an entire
unabridged dictionary, but without a quasi-boyfriend to call my
own.

I don’t know what volume of water in a body
can be converted into tears before a person dehydrates herself, but
apparently I reached it because the tears finally stopped.

I sat there, staring at the ground, willing
myself not to see scenes of Ned and me in this exact same spot. I
thought I spied a cigarette butt, but it was actually a tiny flower
pushing through the dirt. (I know it’s a stretch to think a
snowdrop is a cigarette, but a warped mind will see what it wants
to see.)

I looked around and saw there were several of
them, and that some of the scraggly bushes were in fact forsythia
about to bloom. The ugly, neglected courtyard was actually going to
be kind of pretty in spring. Since probably just about no one but
myself had been crazy enough to come out here all winter, there was
no trash. Someone had cleaned up all the dead leaves and it looked
like trimmed the bushes as well. I almost burst out into tears
again thinking how I wished Ned was here to see it with me but
fortunately that well was dry.

And no, he didn’t magically appear. But I did
come to a conclusion on that cold, damp early spring day.

Ned was always the one I wanted. Kyle I had
to chalk up to temporary insanity. We just spent so much time
together and he was charming and his freckles grew on me, but other
than that, there was no real connection between us. He wasn’t the
one for me. Especially after what he did to me with Hannah.

But honestly, even if he is from the most
exotic island in the whole world, I can’t blame any guy for losing
his head over Hannah.

He’ll get his just deserts.

I mean, I wish them well. Robin Jane has a
heart. The proof? It is beating right now with renewed hope for one
brown-eyed Junior boy who is probably struggling through English
class right now. I know what I have to do.

Strange but true scientific fact: The adrenal
glands sit atop the kidneys like a pair of top hats. Although they
are tiny, they release hormones with the power to make a person
strong enough to lift a car off her baby.

It also gives a person the energy to walk for
miles even if her shoes are not made for covering such
distances.

I didn’t bother doing my homework on the bus.
I was too busy going through the list in my head to worry about
unimportant matters like that. I marched straight up to my room and
set to work. I knew exactly what songs to pick and in exactly what
order. After only slightly more than sixty minutes, I had a
soundtrack to communicate my feelings to Ned.

I did take the time for a quick primp before
setting off. I went with a new ensemble I had never tried before.
Risky, I know, but today was all about taking the big risks.

The day of my non-date with Kyle, I had
discovered in the bottom of my closet a high-necked, pure white
satin blouse with sleeves that pouf at the shoulder but are really
tight through the forearm. It was kind of like something Mrs. Olsen
from Little House on the Prairie would have worn, but way
cooler.

The color communicated purity and innocence,
as well as being exactly the right shade of white for my winter
skin tone. This is not easy to do in late February when nearly
everyone looks washed out. I was glad I hadn’t wasted it on
Kyle.

I paired it with a full-of-romance red dirndl
dress with black bodice (extra slimming right where I needed it), a
big score from the Shabby Chic Shoppe clearance rack. I sent out a
mental thank-you to those excellent friends back in Beckett that
are definitely worth keeping in touch with. I believe we should
make a semiannual visit to them, in December and June, conveniently
coinciding with sales at the Shabby Chic.

I removed the apron, and then replaced it
when I found my tape deck fit into it perfectly. Practicality meets
beauty. I put my multicolored rayon sweater over it all to give it
my signature original look.

It won’t surprise anyone that my hair wasn’t
cooperating and I did not have the patience to fool with it. I
found a white crocheted cap to stuff it in. But with my
glasses-free face and flattering ensemble, I figured the rest of me
was more than forgiveable even without perfect hair.

Seizing my fuzzy mouton coat so as not to
fall victim to the weather, I stepped into some clogs that were by
the door and marched decisively out to accomplish my quest. It was
quite a hike to Ned’s but I didn’t even feel it, at least for the
first fifteen or twenty blocks. Then the front band across the
clogs started to make their presence known.

Bleeding feet or no, I was a Woman on a
Mission (WOAM).

Robin Jane is tough, she just wishes she had
remembered to wear appropriate footwear to carry out her plan.

If anyone had dared to accuse me of only
thinking of spring break in New York City, I would have cheerfully
scratched his or her eyes out. Spring makes everyone’s heart turn
to love, and that trip wasn’t a sure thing anyway.

By the time I made it to Ned’s house, my feet
felt like they were on fire but my determination didn’t waver for
one second. I did my best to not hobble as I came down the final
stretch.

I rang the doorbell before I had the chance
to chicken out.

The door opened but I found I couldn’t speak,
and not just because it was Ned’s scary father who was standing
there.

I stared. He and Ned look exactly alike,
allowing for twenty-five or thirty years of age difference.

“Can I help you?” He sounded slightly
impatient with the dumbstruck idiot standing in front of him.

It took a few extra seconds before I could
stammer out that I was there to see Ned. Mr. Noggin looked me over
closely, brazenly, with more than a hint of distain thrown in. I
almost thought he was going to tell me to go away. But then he told
me, rather begrudgingly, that I could come in and wait in the
vestibule. As I clip-clopped on the tile, he threw me another glare
of disapproval.

According to my watch, only two minutes went
by, but it felt like at least a half-century had passed before
anyone appeared. It was Ned’s mom.

“Darling! Haven’t seen you in ages, how’ve
you been?”

It was such a tremendous relief to have
someone be nice to me that I felt tears pricking the corners of my
eyes. But it was imperative that I check that immediately because I
had put on not only mascara but eyeliner as well and I did not want
to look like a raccoon for Ned.

He came around the corner before I had the
chance to answer Harley, but there was definitely some wariness to
his lope.

“Ned,” I said softly. I didn’t even have to
remind myself to smile.

Ned’s face was not encouraging, however.
“What do you want?”

It was a struggle to keep my smile in place.
Harley said, “Ned, that is no way to speak to anyone, especially
not Jean.”

Ned ignored his mother. He didn’t even bother
to correct her when she got my name wrong.

Ouch.

“Well?” he said.

His voice was so cold, so hostile, I had to
find common denominators for multiple four digit numbers before I
could reply. Finally I managed to mumble, “Can we talk somewhere,
you know, alone?”

“Anything you have to say, you can say it
here.” Ned was doing a very good impression of a brick wall.

My smile was really having trouble hanging in
there after he said that. But losing him forever would be ten
million times worse than embarrassing myself in front of his
parents.

“Okay,” I whispered. Rather than waste any
more breath on ordinary words, I pulled the tape deck out of my
apron pocket and hit ‘play.’

Thin strains of “My Hero, Zero” echoed around
the tiled foyer. I loved the math schoolhouse rock songs so much,
my dad bought me the tape of it in third grade even though it
wasn’t my birthday. I had it memorized by the end of the weekend.
(I already knew all my times tables of course, but I still liked
the catchy tunes.)

It sounded a little scratchy on my cheap
mono-speaker player, but I swallowed every last vestige of pride,
converted it directly into bravery and started singing along.

At first my voice was so weak, I could barely
hear myself. But as the song went along, I sang louder, especially
when it got to the part about “And nobody really knows how
wonderful you are.” I ended with a crackly off-key high note of
“you are” but I didn’t care.

Afraid that Ned’s stern face would make me
forget the words, I hadn’t dared look at him until it was all over.
I clicked the stop button and risked a quick glance. Ned, his
mother and his father were all watching me, each with a different
expression on his or her face.

Harley had her hands clasped over her heart
and looked like she was either going to break into mad applause and
yell, “Bravo! Encore!” or cry from embarrassment for me, I wasn’t
sure which.

Ned’s father had something akin to
incredulous disgust on his face, but based on Ned’s description of
him, that may be his everyday expression.

Ned...Ned was as unreadable as I had ever
seen him. He didn’t seem disgusted but he didn’t seem even slightly
moved by my performance.

“I guess I’ll be going then.”

I looked at him hopefully one last time, but
all he did was make a quiet sound like, “Okay.”

My heart lurched, but it wouldn’t have been
fair to have a heart attack in their nice vestibule, especially not
a fake one.

I couldn’t believe it.

Robin Jane failed.

Strange but true scientific fact: Nerve
impulses travel at 150 meters per second.

In other words, the shock had traveled ten
times around my body in one second.

No one else said anything, which got awkward.
I popped the tape out of my machine. “Here. I made this for
you.”

There was an awful pause before he accepted
my gift, but he did take it at last, carefully avoiding touching my
fingers.

It just about killed me.

Nodding good-bye to his parents, I let myself
out.

I wandered around for a long time, not really
noticing where I was headed. Then it started to get dark and I felt
the cold. I found a pay phone and called my mother. My feet were
both freezing and burning, which was not a comfortable sensation. I
didn’t even have the energy to argue when she started criticizing
my being out in the unpredictable weather of March in a skirt with
no tights or leggings on underneath.

“What are you doing over in this part of town
anyway?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing, just went for a walk and didn’t
realize how late it was getting.”

My mother shook her head in disgust or
disbelief, but refrained from comment. I had been acting moony for
a while and she was getting used to it.

An agonizing evening passed, spent listening
for a phone that didn’t ring. Saturday and Sunday were the longest
in recorded history as the phone continued to be silent.

The only thing worse than the silence was
when it would ring but it wasn’t for me.

Monday morning came around and I entered math
class with something approaching a philosophical outlook.

This is, until I saw Ned.

Then my “that’s the way the cookie crumbles”
attitude crumbled to bits. I couldn’t stop checking to see if I
could get a sign of cordiality from him. He did his brick wall
impression.

We were starting pre-calculus this week and I
just knew it was going to be very distressing for him. Before he
could escape when class ended, I bit my lip and turned to him.
“Would you want to meet in the library today to work on this?” I
was actually trembling waiting for his answer.

Ned looked me over without answering. Then he
looked back at his book and closed it in a leisurely manner. He
nodded the tiniest bit. “Yeah,” he pronounced finally. “Let’s meet
and talk math.”

My heart soared. I was so happy I could have
cried from relief. But since I had used up more than my fair share
of tears in the past few weeks, I held it together. I even
restrained myself from hooting and hollering in the science
corridor.

The entire morning was a blur. The only thing
I cared about was that the clock get to 11:47.

Several millenia passed before the bell
finally rang and released me to my fate in the library. I raced
there, beating Ned by at least ten minutes during which I had time
to reflect that I was supposed to buy lunch today and now would
most likely have to go without. That was okay; the suspense
combined with greasy cafeteria food would not have been a good
combination.

It had taken long enough for the hands of the
clock to get to 11:47, but now the seconds stretched out infinitely
as they passed and no Ned appeared around the side of the stacks.
At exactly 12 noon, he came. It was like we were in an old Western
showdown. I pictured us standing at opposite ends of a ghost town
with tumbleweeds of math worksheets rolling past.

“You helped that kid Kyle with math!” Ned
shot at me.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re always grounded! And
what the heck is up with you and Sofagirl?”

Imagining the duel, I giggled to myself. But
since I had to make sure Kyle’s name would not come up at all
today, I bit my cheeks.