Miss Taken Read online

It turned out Sofagirl was headed to Mr. Garrone’s class too, which was perfect. Diana could escort her. I would have invited both of them to join us, but there really wasn’t room for so many to walk abreast in these narrow, crowded halls. I turned around to make sure there were no hard feelings about the way things turned out but Diana developed a sudden interest in the banks of lockers. Sofagirl had evaporated completely. She’s so thin, she probably slipped between the cracks in the linoleum floor.

  I pretended not to notice all the looks I was getting accompanying the new boy who had donned his sunglasses as soon as class was over. Apparently the three-watt florescent bulbs are overpowering to his blue-green eyes. Funny, I have noticed that my eyes have been more sensitive to light since getting contacts. Perhaps I should start carrying sunglasses as a precautionary measure.

  The kid - whose name turned out to be Kyle - (much cooler than the vegetable) seemed to know an awful lot of people for its being his first day. He did not ignore me however as he shot hellos with his finger pistols at every third person we passed. Between clicks of his fake gum and rubbing my arm more than once with his letterman bomber jacket as he shot out his greetings, we determined that we had not only math and biology together but gym as well. I would be seeing a lot of this Kyle, so it was good that I liked him, in a totally platonic way.

  I also learned that he had moved to a house only a few blocks from mine, so we were also neighbors of a sort. Kyle was funny and engaging and he had a little accent sometimes that made him seem exotic too. It’s a good thing that I don’t go for freckles.

  Garrulous Garrone started off the class with Q&A. If you answer enough questions right, he will add points to your grade, so I’m all for that part. But he always uses it as an excuse to go off on totally unrelated topics, which is a drag.

  Diana and I are both pretty good at the bio trivia, but today there seemed to be a spirit of competition in the air as we battled to get the most points. I don’t say it was to show off in front of the new boy (at least not in my case), but it was noticeable.

  There was one slightly embarrassing moment when Mr. Garrone asked for the technical term for goosebumps. My hand shot up first. “Piloerection,” I stated loud and clear.

  There were a few sniggers. They can laugh all they want. My overall grade just went up two points.

  “You are correct, Miss Grey. Did I ever tell you about the time I was in college on the crew team and we overturned our boat into frigid waters? I can tell you, that caused some piloerection...”

  More sniggers.

  It finally sank in. I cannot believe I just said the word “erection” in front of the new boy.

  Fortunately, the goosebump embarrassment (GE) was forgotten (hopefully) by the time we started the lab. Kyle and I were fated to spend a lot of time together today. My usual partner was absent, so Mr. Garrone put Kyle with me.

  It was pure chance. I had nothing to do with it. I feel compelled to mention that Diana isn’t going to make many new friends if she keeps wearing a puss like that on her face.

  It was also pure luck that I didn’t also get saddled with Sofagirl. Mr. Garrone almost put her with us, but I was able to make him see reason. Putting two new students together on their first day was not the best way to get them up to speed. He made a party of three across the room.

  If I wasn’t sure about Kyle’s mental powers from his performance in math class, after bio I didn’t have any doubts. He was a total whiz at the lab we did. We must have finished ten minutes before anyone else. I had a disloyal thought to my old partner Raj. He’s no slouch, but I kind of hoped Mr. Garrone would let me stay partners with Kyle.

  Since we had all this extra time, Kyle and I chatted some more. He told me the joke about how in biology, multiplication is the same thing as division, which I found charming because it included a math reference.

  I had a few witty jokes for him in return. I told him the one about the scientist wearing designer “genes” for her hot date.

  He glanced down at my thigh. I happened to be wearing my designer jeans today. I hoped I hadn’t been too suggestive by talking about dates.

  Kyle laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, so I threw out another one.

  “What’s the fastest way to determine the sex of a chromosome? Pull its genes down!”

  I might have gone too far with that one, but he smiled appreciatively.

  It was a good thing we didn’t have gym today because I would have been obligated to show Kyle the way there too. I still saw nothing wrong with giving him directions for his next class and walking with him as far as our paths converged. He asked where I was headed.

  When I told him, he groaned and said he really wished he could have taken art but his “mum” is all about being practical. It was remarkably similar to what I was thinking, which was, “Why didn’t I sign up for computers?”

  Sofagirl ended up in my art class. It was an oddly fitting name for her. Although she was not at all cushy like a piece of upholstered furniture, she basically sat without moving. As the rest of the class slept, did homework or got into “visioning” with Mrs. Dipsey, Sofagirl went into a corner to draw by herself. I caught a glimpse of her paper on my way out. She had drawn the courtyard which is right outside the window. It was pretty accurate, but who wants a picture of a bunch of bare twigs and rocks?

  Ned and I didn’t have lunch together today, for which I was almost grateful. I just know I would have started babbling about Kyle and Ned was already unhappy with me for having walked with him to biology class. He would have been even less thrilled to hear that Kyle was my lab partner, was also in my gym class, and he definitely didn’t need to hear that Kyle had moved into my neighborhood.

  Strange but true scientific fact: Each person in the world has his or her own unique “smellprint.”

  After eating a quick bite in the cafeteria, I hurried off to the library to while away the rest of the period.

  Well, I don’t really ‘while’ it. I do my homework so I don’t have to waste time on it after school. I went to Ned’s and my usual hiding place in the stacks.

  And there sat Kyle.

  This is more amazing than it first sounds. He is one of the only people I have ever seen in the library during lunch, besides the librarian and Ned of course.

  It was even more surprising that he was sitting at what I considered to be Ned’s and my table.

  “Oh, hey,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.” He was always saying quaint things like that. Then, “Is this your table?”

  How totally amazing that he read my mind. Or maybe not, since I stopped short, was gawking at him and had nearly dropped my books.

  And am I becoming totally paranoid or is he staring judgmentally at my eyeballs?

  “Oh, well,” I said. “It’s not my table, it belongs to the library. But I do sit here sometimes...” Stop blathering, Jane.

  “Would you care to sit down then?”

  To sit or not to sit? I didn’t want to appear to be cheating on my boyfriend by sitting at our table with another boy.

  But that was silly. I was just sharing a table in a library with another person who happened to be a boy, and not even a very cute one at that. Although the more chances I got to look at him, I decided Kyle’s hair was more of an auburn than a true red. Clearly a Fall either way, and he knew how to pick a shirt color to best accentuate his green-blue eyes. They brought to mind a tropical body of water.

  I said, “Sure, thanks.” And then felt stupid for thanking someone for allowing me to sit at my own table.

  Kyle nodded and went back to his book, but after just a few seconds, he looked up again.

  “Hey, Jane? Do you get the math homework? Hiro’s a little ahead of where we were at my old school.”

  Did I understand it? I could have done it in my sleep. I had to restrain myself from snorting. Just like that, Robin Jane has a new cause.

  But, I will have to tread carefully.

  Ned might not apprecia
te my tutoring someone else. Hannah the former bully is one thing. After all, she’s a girl. But I wasn’t so sure about a cute (did I just say that?) new boy from some exotic location. I was sure he was from somewhere exciting. I could definitely detect an accent.

  But I was here and he was here and there didn’t seem to be any reason not to help another poor soul who was struggling with a subject I just happen to do as easily as breathing.

  Kyle got up and moved to the seat next to me, which was sort of thrilling, if I was being honest. Robin Jane always strives for honesty.

  Well, most of the time anyway.

  Kyle smelled really good. He must have been wearing cologne because the aroma was too fancy for ordinary soap. Fortunately he had used a light touch and not buckets of it so that I wanted to gag. As I inhaled, my scent receptors seemed to think they needed to send signals to a wide variety of sites in my body.

  We got through the homework in no time at all. Kyle is a much faster study than Ned. But that was not a nice comparison to make to my boyfriend so I erased it quick from my mind.

  There were a few minutes left before the end of the period. The perfect opportunity for me to find out about his foreign provenance.

  “So,” I said, “Where was your old school?”

  “Oh,” Kyle replied, sounding bored. “I grew up on an island.”

  I knew it!

  He flipped his sunglasses down, checked out the thick cloud cover outside the window and said, “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to find my next class. Would you happen to know where...” he looked at his schedule, “Mrs. Bourgeois’ French class is? And while we’re at it, how about Mr. Krakowicz’ shop class?”

  Strange but true scientific fact: Hair on your arms never grows much more than one inch long because its growth cycle is only a few months. Head hair’s cycle lasts years.

  It was only common courtesy that I accompany Kyle to the foreign language wing. And then it was just as natural that we join up again to go to wood shop.

  I considered our being thrown together to be more than just a coincidence at this point. He seemed impressed that I willingly signed up to work with power tools. (Note to self: do not look wimpy when handling equipment.)

  I was so glad I had worn my ultra chic leg of mutton satin blouse in a most flattering shade of aqua blue. It creates the illusion of broader shoulders without the hazardous use of shoulder pads.

  However, I wish I had taken the extra five minutes battling my hair into shape rather than just wadding it into a side ponytail. But, as Dad always says, hindsight is 20/20 and I never expected to meet anyone new in the middle of the year.

  Kyle’s transoceanic birthplace did not resurface. He told me instead about how he liked to work with his hands. A double entendre entered my mind with that remark. I bit my tongue, but I couldn’t help glancing at his hands. They looked strong, and not hairy like Ned’s.

  Ugh, another traitorous comparison. There’s nothing wrong with hair on a person’s hands. I even have little hairs if you look close enough. We’re all mammals, covered in more or less hair. Hairiness just means more testosterone anyway.

  Mr. Krakowicz made Kyle remove his jacket for safety reasons. After also absorbing the information that if he (Kyle) ever showed up with it again, he (Mr. Krakowicz) would use the leather to buff the nested bowls he was making, Kyle sat down next to me. I wanted to ask what sport he had gotten the letter in, but we didn’t get any opportunity for talking. I put on a brave face but I was too worried about keeping all of my appendages attached to my body to let my concentration waver even for a minute.

  Kyle didn’t seem to be put off by Mr. Krakowicz’ horror stories. He just flicked his collar back into a vertical position at the thought of a finger being removed by a blade spinning at 100 rotations per second.

  When it was time to put our digits on the line, Kyle stepped right up. He really seemed to know his way around power tools, which was kind of sexy.

  That was the third disloyal thought I had had about him and it wasn’t even the end of the school day yet. I concentrated hard on the fact that I do not care for freckles and that Kyle has an awful lot of them. His eyes are odd too. It took seeing them multiple times, but they’re two different colors. At first I thought it was a trick of the light, but one is definitely more green and the other more blue.

  Kind of like David Bowie who is one of the sexiest men on the planet.

  Unfaithful thoughts were multiplying like bacteria in a warm primordial soup. The safest thing was to not think about him at all, which was incredibly difficult to do with him placing his non-hairy hands on top of mine to help me guide my piece of wood through the table saw without losing any valuable parts, as the heady scent of his cologne was being forced up my nose by the blowback of the saw. It even seemed to be getting in through other orifices, like my mouth and maybe even my eyes.

  Purely out of the helping spirit and not for any other reason despite what others might impute to me, at the end of class I asked Kyle where he was headed next. He had social studies, just like me, but thankfully with a different teacher. I really mean it. After spending almost three solid hours with the boy, I was ready for a break.

  Since our social studies classes were in the same wing, however, it made sense to walk together. I said good-bye in a friendly, but non-flirty, fashion outside my classroom. The second the bell rang, Mrs. Crocker started in immediately on a disquisition about the Bill of Rights. To judge by the number of papers she was flinging about the lectern, I could tell we were in for a solid twenty-minute speech. I settled back in my seat, happy to have some free time to reflect.

  I tried very hard to think loyal thoughts about Ned. But since our longest and most recent interaction had been neither long nor recent and not very positive either, it was easier to speculate about which island Kyle might hail from. I was in social studies class after all. Hawaii? Bermuda? Bali? Is Bali an island or a city?

  Why don’t these people ever teach us anything useful, like geography? The rights guaranteed to us by the Constitution are by definition guaranteed. I can always refer back to the contract if I ever need to know them. No need to waste time discussing and memorizing them.

  I spotted a globe on the heater. A shame my sight isn’t as sharp as my hearing or sense of smell.

  My dad’s world atlas is calling to me from the shelf in his home office. I will have to pay it a visit this afternoon.

  Surprising but true geographical facts: There are over 100,000 inhabited islands on earth. One in six people in the world lives on an island.

  Thank goodness there are over a billion uninhabited islands so I have somewhere to go to hide out.

  Bali is indeed an island in Indonesia. This is not totally useless information because I may need to move there some day. Possibly very soon.

  The awkward situation began when Kyle walked straight up to me at the end of math class to ask if we could meet at lunchtime in the library again.

  “I like your shirt,” he added. I had selected a floral print that was vaguely tropical. I wondered if it reminded him of home. Kyle went on, “It really compliments your eyes.”

  “Why, thank you.” No one else had noticed this important detail.

  “So, lunch?”

  Ned had been talking to Mr. Hiro but made it back in time to hear that. I didn’t dare look at him, but I could actually feel his eyes - both of them - burning into the side of my head.

  Ned has a lazy eye. I had the cruel thought that he could keep one eye on each of us at the same time if he wanted to.

  “Oh,” I said, trying my best to sound totally casual but failing miserably, “Can’t today. I have other plans.”

  I turned ever so slightly in Ned’s direction. He looked as if I had punched him.

  Kyle is a quick study in more than one area. He also seemed to feel Ned’s eyes boring a hole into the back of his bomber jacket. He half-turned, saw Ned’s face and then said to me, “Oh, gotcha. Okay, well, some other day then. By
e Jane.” Kyle aimed at me with his finger pistol.

  I laughed as I pretended to ward off the shot.

  In farewell to Ned, Kyle clicked his invisible gum amicably.

  I turned to give my boyfriend a sweet kiss to help him get through the next few hours until we could get some serious smoochtime in at lunch. But for some reason, he didn’t look open to the prospect.

  “You’re meeting up with that guy in the library?” He sounded like he had just been shot. Or maybe like he wouldn’t mind shooting me.

  Time to practice damage control.

  “Hm? Oh, no. He just happened to be there at the same time I was. Total coincidence.”

  Even though this was the absolute truth, it didn’t sound particularly believable. The blathering I tried next did not help matters.

  “I went to the library after lunch and I met him there. I mean, I ran into this kid and he remembered me from math class and asked me to help with the homework since it was ahead of where he was in his old school. Did you know that there are more than 17,000 islands in the Indonesian archipelago?”

  “That kid’s from Bali?” Ned asked skeptically.

  “Kyle? Oh, no. I mean, I don’t know. He just said he was from an island, not which island specifically.” Shut up Jane. Now.

  Ned shook his head in disgust. “Do you have time to squeeze me in today or should I make ‘other plans’?”

  The sarcasm was not lost on me, I can tell you.

  “Don’t be silly,” I said, desperate to return to being part of a normal, happy couple who makes out in the library. “I’ll squeeze you in.” In an effort to purge thoughts of Kyle from his mind as well as mine, I gave Ned an unusual public display of affection by squeezing his butt.

  “Promise,” I snuck a kiss on his ear as I whispered into it. I had to stop all PDA when I caught Sofagirl watching us. Still dressed as a nun in training, she really had no business witnessing such things. And what was she doing hanging around so long after class?