October 7th, 2008
Toby
From Se?ora Johnson’s desk, I stare at the clock above the door. The minute hand is in a holding pattern at 3:09. While the students pack up their belongings, my mind is on Rose—her lips, her perfume, her taste. The bell rings. I stand, hitting my knees on the desk on the way up, and the Marvel heroes wobble, shaking their heads at me like they know what I’m about to do: ruin everything. It’s what I do—get overly excited and overthink things. The room clears out.
I jump into the closet, lock the door, change, throw on an extra layer of deodorant, run my fingers through my hair, then step out of the closet and check myself out in the full-length mirror hanging on Se?ora Johnson’s closet door. I look good. I swing my backpack over my shoulder, turn around, and…
“JerryAnn?” She’s sitting on a table in the back of the classroom, an amused half-smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Toby.” She stands and walks toward me.
Did she see me checking myself out? What could she want that can’t wait until practice in five minutes? More importantly, will meeting with JerryAnn leave me with no time to see Rose before practice?
She stands. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure.” One minute. I can handle one minute. What could happen in one minute? And then my heart races because in less than a minute last night, I swung Rose through the air and she kissed me and my mind told me to pull away because I barely know Rose and she is moving too fast, and I’m not equipped to handle casual relationships and non-committal make-out sessions. My body, on the other hand, relished the contact, the kissing, her lips on mine. My body said to kiss her back, and I did. I kissed her in the gym and later in her classroom against a “Just Say No” poster. I couldn’t say no.
When she said goodbye at her classroom door, my body thrummed with desire, and her eyes were on me. What could I do? I had to kiss her. I’m human. And then what did I do? I didn’t say anything—no ‘goodbye,’ no ‘see you tomorrow,’ and she walked across the gym, her hips shaking the way they do. I took a puff from my inhaler, doused my head in water from the gym’s drinking fountain, and went home to a cold shower and a sleepless night.
JerryAnn snaps her fingers close to my face. “Are you okay?”
I’d forgotten about JerryAnn, who still stands in front of me.
“You look like you’re either going to puke or pass out. Should I step back or step closer to catch you?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not fine. Before the kiss, my mind was filled with JerryAnn and how right she felt in my arms. Yes, she is taller and heavier, and unlike Rose and me, JerryAnn and I aren’t a matched set, but with JerryAnn, I felt happier and lighter than I felt carrying Rose.
“Are you sure?” JerryAnn steps closer.
I jump back. “No, I’m not sure.” My freshman roommate told me I was too touchy-feely and if I wasn’t careful, girls would get the wrong idea. I told him if I’m giving girls the impression that I like girls, that’s the impression I want to give, but maybe he was right. Maybe I sent Rose the wrong signals, but last night those signals felt right. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” I head to the door. “Let’s walk while we talk.”
JerryAnn doesn’t follow. “It’s personal,” she says, pacing…and limping.
Personal? Maybe JerryAnn was as drawn to me yesterday as I was to her. If she does have feelings for me, what do I do about Rose? My door is closed, JerryAnn must have shut it. She wants to be alone with me, and I can’t be trusted alone with a beautiful woman—last night’s events are proof of that. I walk back to my desk, sit down, and blurt, “Rose and I are dating.”
Iron Man shakes his head at me like I’m an idiot. Are Rose and I dating? We kissed a lot, but I don’t have her number, and our relationship is undefined.
JerryAnn stops pacing. “Okay.” The word is drawn out. “I just want to know why you told my dad I have a boyfriend, and I want to know exactly what you said.”
Instead of relief, I feel disappointment. This isn’t about me, or us, or how good it felt to hold her. It’s about JerryAnn’s boyfriend and her dad. “Oh.” Se?ora Johnson’s creepy angel photo stares back at me. If only he were the reason I couldn’t sleep at night.
JerryAnn pulls a student desk close to my desk and sits on top of it, not in it. Her legs wouldn’t fit. “What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”
I gesture to all of her. “Everything.”
She crosses her arms, leans back, and waits.
I rise and move a strand of blonde hair that’s fallen out of her ponytail and over her eye. “You dyed your hair.” I sit down.
“Lots of people dye their hair.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just the hair. You went from wearing only mascara to wearing makeup, even to practice. You’re wearing perfume now.” It’s a subtle scent, much better than Rose’s rose-scented stuff. “You never did that before, and you check your phone all the time. You didn’t used to do that.”
Her arms unfold. She runs her hands across her face. “But why did you have to tell my Dad?”
I stand up. “He caught me off guard. When he subbed for you on Wednesday he thought we were dating.” I point at her then back at me. “He threatened to break my legs while I slept." I cringe at the memory. "He sounded like Jack Nicholson, threatened to break my neck, and wouldn't leave me alone until I talked.” According to the clock, practice starts in a minute.
JerryAnn stands. “Yeah, he bullies the guys I date and that’s why I don’t want him to know I’m dating someone!”
So, she is dating someone—and she sounds confident they’re dating, not just making out in the family consumer science lab because it feels great. We walk to the gym, talking as we go.
I open the door to the gym for JerryAnn, who steps inside and then turns to face me.
“You don’t understand. If I don’t mess up this relationship myself, my Dad will.”
What does she expect me to say? I shrug. Shoes squeak, basketballs bounce. Most of the girls are practicing. Milo swings his hand across Bethany’s face in a fake slap that makes a few of the girls giggle.
I nod. “I won’t mess up your chances with your new boyfriend.”
Milo fake-slaps a few more girls, and they giggle.
JerryAnn lets out a sigh of relief. “What did you tell him?”
“All the same things I told you: new hair, makeup, obsessed with your phone.” From across the gym, Rose walks out of her room towards me.
My heart races, and suddenly I’m thirteen again, shoving rollerblades in my backpack, taking them on the bus, and slipping them on just before the first bell. My thirteen-year-old self knew how it would play out. In those rollerblades, the bullying would stop, girls would notice me, and I would be the most popular guy in school, like Troy Tyler. Instead, I face-planted before the front steps, and my classmates roared with laughter. I spent the morning in the nurse’s office with road rash and an asthma attack.
As Rose approaches the door, blood rushes through my veins and sweat trickles down my cheek and it’s happening again. I’ll faceplant on the gym floor, and the school nurse will put feminine napkins on my shins to stop the bleeding.
JerryAnn waves her hand in front of my face. “And you won’t tell him anything else?”
JerryAnn’s words hit my ears, but Rose’s hips have hypnotized me. Does she try to shake her hips, or does it happen naturally? Is it the high heels that do it? Rose’s heels clack, but she doesn’t slow down or even look at me as she reaches the door.
“Hi, Rose,” I whisper as her perfume wafts past. Did yesterday mean nothing to her?
JerryAnn pulls me into the gym with her hand. “Earth to Toby.” Her eyes are wide. “And you won’t tell my dad anything else, right?”
“No.” I shake the Rose cobwebs from my mind. “I don’t know anything else, and even if I did know anything, I wouldn’t tell your dad. I have a hard enough time not screwing up my own relationships.”
“I can see that.” JerryAnn walks onto the court and starts drills.
On the court, I burn off nervous energy, but if JerryAnn can see that I’m already screwing up my relationship, what must Rose think? When Rose sachets back through the gym to her classroom without a smile or nod, a ball hits me in the head. I recover on the sidelines.