My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters (6 page)

"Okay, let's drive this dream machine, baby." Tyler rapped his knuckles against the blue lilies painted on the passenger door.

I sat in the driver's seat, and Tyler told me how to let the clutch out slowly while I pushed on the gas. He taught me how to listen to the engine so I'd know when to shift. I could barely focus as he went through all the gears, his hand on mine. The van still died the first time I tried to drive away from the curb.

"No problem. Just try again."
He's so sweet!

He pressed his hand down on my knee as I pushed down on the gas.

"Now let out the clutch real slow," he said.

I did it! The van jerked down the street.

"Now put the clutch in and out fast while you shift."

Why did everything sound so dirty all of a sudden? I fought back a major case of giggles.

"You're doing it," Tyler said. "Where's our first delivery?"

"The hospital," I said. "You really want to come along?"

"I don't want you to get fired on your first day of work." Tyler glanced at his watch. "I've got time."

Tyler watched the van while I pulled up right in front and ran the two bouquets to the front desk. We even had time to deliver the flowers to the birthday person at an accountant's office nearby. Good thing I hadn't waited until five; I liked making someone so happy. The lady thanked me a million times, as if
I'd
sent her the flowers.

"You're a fast learner," Tyler said on the way back to the U.S. Attorneys' office.

"No, I'm not."

"It took me a few days to get the hang of driving my Jeep. My dad even threatened to take it back to the dealership before I did permanent damage."

I thought of the damage I'd done to my sweet little
JORRIDE.
Only a couple of thousand dollars, but I'd permanently scarred my parents. And their insurance guy.

"No, really. You're a good teacher," I said. Maybe if my mom hadn't shrieked in mortal terror so much while teaching me to drive...

"Thanks, Jory. That means a lot."

We walked over to the river and ate our sandwiches on the grass. I raised my eyebrows at Megan after Tyler gave his Doritos to a homeless guy sitting under a tree.

I know. I know,
she mouthed.
Nice guy.

"So do you guys get to work on any big cases or do you make copies and file and stuff?"

Megan licked orange Cheetos dust off her fingers and started to say something about hoping to write summaries for the law clerks.

"Actually, I've got a big case I'm working on this summer," Tyler interrupted.

Megan's face changed like she'd just found out that someone had scored better than she did on a test.

"It's a vandalism case I call
Whipped Cream on Upholstery versus Giggling Girls.
" I choked on my Diet Coke.

"Any evidence?" Megan couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice.

"A single strand of long, curly blond hair."

Tyler looked right at me.

I could've died.

I
pulled up in front of the Jewel Café in the middle of one of those older southwest Reno neighborhoods that had slowly become more dentists', accountants', lawyers', and insurance offices than homes. I had three specialty cakes to deliver: Black Forest, lemon poppy seed, and carrot. Katie had frosted tiny orange carrots all over the top of that cake so each slice would have one. I slid the van door open and picked up one cake in its pink box.

Violin music filled the air when I opened the door of the café, but it didn't sound like a recording. Large tables covered with small boxes of beads crowded the whole room; beads hung on strings along one wall, and more boxes of beads cluttered floor-to-ceiling shelves along another wall; and overgrown houseplants crowded every corner, giving the place a real earthy jungle smell. A striped orange cat came and wrapped itself around my ankles, meowing.

I looked around, but I didn't see anyone.

"Hello?" I called out. "Delivery!" I tried to sound official. Should I go out and lock the van so that my other cakes didn't get stolen? How long would it take them to melt in this heat?

The violin music stopped.

"Hello?" I called out again.

"Just a minute," a deep voice answered. A guy my age came through a swinging door hidden near some shelves. He was tall and thin—a mass of dark curly hair clouded around his pale face. He had huge brown eyes, full lips, and a big, wide nose. I suddenly felt really stupid standing there holding a cake box, even though it was my job.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" he said. "This is so sweet of you. Are you going to sing, too?"

"It's not a—This is fourteen-oh-five, right?" I looked down at his bare feet sticking out from under the frayed bottoms of his faded jeans. Curly little black hairs grew on top of his big toes. He wiggled his toes as if he knew I was staring at them. I looked up to see his deep brown eyes looking straight into me like he could read my mind.

"I'm just messing with you." His fingers brushed against mine as he took the cake box from me. "Come on, I'll show you where to go." I followed him back through the swinging door, which he held open for me. He wore a black T-shirt but it looked faded compared to his hair.

"Don't stare at my ass," he said just as I
was
totally staring at the way his butt fit perfectly into his jeans.

"I—I—"

"Only kidding." He laughed. We walked through a big empty room with long tables. Plants hung near the windows. A gray and white cat snoozed along the top of a faded old sofa. Paintings hung on the walls with little price tags next to them. I tried to look at anything and everything besides his butt.

"Oh, Mother dearest," he called as we entered a small 1950s-looking kitchen. "Your delicious pastries have arrived."

A woman with long gray and brown hair, wearing a peasant skirt, a fitted shirt, and several beaded necklaces, came into the room.

"You must be Katie's new girl." She squeezed my hand. "I'm Helen." She lifted the lid of the cake box and inhaled dramatically. "Isn't Katie fabulous? Her baking inspired me to do this whole little café experiment. I simply had to have an excuse to buy her cakes more than twice a year for birthdays. So voilà: the Jewel Café."

"Helen is living out all of her passions at once: confections, jewelry, and art." He put his arm around his mom. "Crazy little lady. How many cats do we have now?" He leaned down and kissed her on top of her head. In front of me! I couldn't imagine Finn doing that to Mom.

"Oh, Gideon. Stop it." She pushed him away. "Go help this girl—what's your name, dear?"

"Jory."

"Go help Jory with the other cakes."

"Yes, ma'am." He did a deep servant bow that made his mom laugh. I waited for Gideon to lead the way, but he motioned for me to go first.

"For the record, we have four cats, not forty," Helen called after us.

"It's my turn to check out your ass," he whispered. "Fair is fair."

I surprised myself by turning around and walking backward, looking him straight in the eye. I guess I figured since he was in the Super Schnozz club, he could handle my nose. Or maybe I wanted to look into those big eyes of his. He was so bold—so different from other guys. Even older guys like Zane Zimmerman.

"Watch out for the—"

I bumped into the edge of a table in the front room, jabbing my hip with a sharp blast of pain. A box of beads fell and clattered onto the hardwood floor, rolling in every direction.

"Oh, no. I'm so sorry." I got down on my knees to scoop the little heart-shaped beads back into the bin. Gideon crawled around with me.

"No apologies necessary. You've made a boring morning quite interesting." He dropped a few beads into my hand. "And you have a great ass."

I sat on the floor and just looked at him. Amazed. Did he actually expect me to say something? Megan would've given him the you're-sexually-harassing-me evil eye. Hannah would have giggled, batted her eyelashes, and said, Thanks, you too. I just sat there. On my butt. Hiding it.

"That was what we guys call a compliment," he said.

My cheeks felt as warm as fresh-baked cherry pie. "I better go get those other cakes."

We each carried another cake back into the kitchen. His mom had left to go organize something out back, and Gideon leaned against the kitchen sink. "You go to Reno?"

"About to start senior year." I tilted my head up and down like one of the World Cup bobbleheads Finn had collected back in fourth grade.

"Thought so." He kept looking right at me. "You hang out with Megan Moore. Pretty girl. Smart as hell. A little—"

"Intimidating?"

Gideon did a cute little shrug thing.

I'd had this conversation before. He obviously had a huge crush on Megan. Probably wanted to use me to get closer to her. No guy ever asked Megan to do anything without checking with me or Hannah to make sure she wouldn't cause a ginormous scene, like she had the time Jonah Swenson asked her to homecoming in sophomore year (she
had
thought it was a prank).

"So, how do you know Megan?"

"I 'transferred' to Reno High a few weeks ago." He made air quotes around the word
transferred.
"After a little 'incident.'" Air quotes. "With the school paper at McQueen."

"You're the guy who hijacked the senior quotes and made fun of everyone?"

"I like to think I made everything accurate."

"They kicked you out for that?"

"I like to think that my talents could be better used elsewhere."

I smiled at him for a few seconds before remembering my delivery van and the flowers wilting in the heat. "I gotta go. More deliveries and stuff."

"I will await next Wednesday with bated breath, my lady." He bowed and kissed my hand. "Nice meeting you, Jory."

I looked down at his feet and mumbled, "Yeah."

His lips felt soft on my hand. But what a weirdo!

"Interesting foot fetish thing you've got going on," he said.

I
set the tray of miniature tiered wedding cakes in front of the taste-testing couple. Groom Guy chose the chocolate buttercream, tenderly feeding it to Beloved Bride as she made noises like on late-night premium cable.

I stammered something about letting them sample the other flavors in private and escaped to the kitchen to call Megan again. I'd left messages all afternoon about the Rodeo Carnival—we'd gone together every year since ninth grade, when Hannah had gotten her back brace off and could ride roller coasters again.

"Please pick up."

Megan answered just as the couple started kissing each other's frosted fingertips.

"Uh. Yeah. Rodeo C-carnival," I stammered, not really hearing Megan until she said Tyler's name, something about a movie and just the two of them.

"But—tradition." Engaged Couple morphed into Tyler and Megan look-alikes, groping the cakes, each other. I saw it: first a movie, then senior prom, followed by cake testing and a summer wedding. Sad, virginal me would deliver and set up the cake.

"Tyler and I have to see it tonight. It's a legal thriller and the main character totally looks like Barnes!"
Barnes?
I snapped out of my miserable fantasy of Megan and Tyler's wedding. Groom Guy faked a cake smash in the face but then popped the sample into his own mouth, making Beloved Bride giggle until her face turned pink like the frosting roses. Megan rambled on about Tyler and lawyers or something.

"Fine. Go to the movie." I snapped my phone shut, forced a sugary smile, and went out to check on the happiest couple on earth (until Tyler and Megan usurped the title).

Three hours later, overcompensating, cheerful Hannah and mopey me walked around the Rodeo Carnival. Hard rock blasted through the air, along with the rattle of the rickety carnival roller coaster and its shrieking riders. I did not want to be at the stupid Rodeo Carnival. I wanted to be at home, suffering. Megan
knows
how much I like Tyler! How could she let him take her to the movies? On a real date! Wasn't that like one of the unbreakable rules of friendship?

Traitor!

"You're thinking about it," Hannah said. "I can tell by the way you've scrunched up your nose."

The last thing I need: a major nose-highlighting quirk whenever I freak out. I should just go live in a convent with a bunch of nuns. I already have the chastity thing down.

"I don't know why you aren't mad. You're the one who started the tradition, so she's completely letting you down too," I said.

Hannah took a deep breath, straightening her spine. "Sure I'm a little disappointed—" A frown flickered across her face. "Okay, more than a little, but Jory, we've got to try to live in the moment. And tonight we're here to find us some real live cowboys!" Hannah's gaze followed an older guy built solid as a stallion. "Or cowmen."

"This is not a moment I want to live in." I watched a tattoo-covered carny ogle Hannah's yoga-enhanced curves, eyes roaming up her frilly cowgirl blouse and down her tight Wrangler's. I'd dressed like Hannah's city cousin: flouncy mini, layered tees, and vintage cupcake-pattern Vans. I had bought them with my first paycheck and saved the rest for el nose job. With a couple of hours of overtime, and minus taxes and Vans, I'd saved $314.65. In only one week!

Then again, what was the point if Tyler was falling for Megan? Right at this moment, Megan was probably whispering big words from her SAT prep course to her date, getting him all hot and horny:
perspicacious, volition, antediluvian, sagacious, turncoat, tramp.

"I think you need some cotton candy." Hannah adjusted her cowboy hat and headed toward the concession stand. We stood in line behind a group of boys having a burping contest. Tyler would never act so crude!
Stop. Don't think about him.

But why couldn't he like
me?

Of course he likes Megan. Not only does she share his lawyerly ambition, she'd suddenly grown into the girl every college puts on the cover of its brochure: gleaming smile, shoulder-length dark hair, big blue eyes, no-nonsense style, and the cutest little perky nose. She and Tyler shared the same level of attractiveness. They matched, the way movie-star couples looked good together. If Tyler took me out, people would probably say that I must be really sweet, or, worse, that I must
do
something really sweet.