Miss Taken Page 5

  I was smart enough to know not to commit to anything. “Well, we’ll see,” I said to end the conversation. “But I don’t want to mess up anything with Ned. Now when you have an equation that looks like this, you have to work backwards...”

  I don’t know if it was the equation or Ned that caused Hannah to snort. I did not ask. I really didn’t want to mess things up with him. After all, the devil you know is better than the one you don’t.

  No, no, no. Ned is not a devil. He’s a really sweet guy and we get along great...most of the time. And we have lots of fun together...except that we rarely get to see each other outside school. And his mom is a fashion designer whom I want to hire me for a job.

  Oh, dear. Perhaps I do need to clarify my intentions toward Ned.

  Hannah’s dad gave me a lift since my parents were off at some social event at the university where my dad is the physics department chair. It turns out department chairs have to attend a lot of social functions, which Dad says he did not bargain for when he took the job. It’s a good thing he has my mom to help him get through, although she uses them to shamelessly promote her own causes.

  I walked up the steps and there sat Diana on my front porch. She was trying to make it look like she was having a good time, but it wasn’t working. Perhaps this was because it was cold enough to see her breath practically forming a frost mustache on her face. And even with that hideously ugly faux dead-animal-looking coat, I was sure she could feel the cold of the metal bench through it and her amply padded bottom.

  However, I was feeling magnanimous toward all the world after Hannah’s pep talk regarding Kyle.

  “Hey, Di,” I said, exuding chumminess, “What’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied. “Just, you know, hanging out.”

  I waited to see if she was going to elaborate as to why she would choose to walk two miles in frigid weather to sit by herself on a metal bench on my front porch. No explanation was offered.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  A funny little noise came out of Diana’s throat. “Umm, no. Not too long.”

  “Are you, by chance, waiting for Trey?” Diana is totally in love with my brother, which is all my fault and related to the same incident at the dance where Hannah’s humiliation took place. I had asked Trey to do Diana a favor by dancing with her (and dysing Hannah) at the winter formal, and now she thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. I tried to break it to her afterwards, but then Trey went and accepted to go seedpod hunting with her - twice - so now she won’t see reason.

  Diana pressed her lips together, perhaps to keep that odd noise from escaping again. “No, not really.”

  I didn’t think I could withstand a forced march to collect native plants. “Come on. Let’s go up to my room.”

  “Okay,” Diana agreed with alacrity.

  As soon as I shut the door behind us, Diana started to cry.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Jane, I’m so sorry,” Diana sobbed. “I can’t believe I’m crying about this, but I thought....” Anguish obliterated Diana’s thoughts.

  “Hey.” A hug seemed to be called for. We hadn’t been friends for that long. I gave her a few tentative back-pats. “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s just, I know I told him this Saturday, but when I got here, he was totally surprised, and he said he was busy and then he left, ohohOH...” Diana went off on another crying jag.

  “Trey stood you up?” I snapped. Although the truth needed to come out, I was indignant on her behalf.

  “Well, he said we never agreed, but we did! I remember clearly telling him as we passed each other in the hall between seventh and eighth period that I would be over this Saturday at one, and I was sure I saw him nod that he heard me...” Diana paused as if to replay the scene.

  Oh, boy. I could just picture it: Diana sees Trey walking down the hall. He nods hello to her, oblivious to the fact that she is speaking to him because he is too busy replaying layup shots inside his head. Either that or Diana’s question got distorted as it bounced around inside his hollow cranium.

  “Diana...maybe next time you should call first, you know, to double check?”

  Her error finally seemed to sink in. Robin Jane averts a crisis in the world of love. Look out Hannah, Jane knows a thing or two about relationships herself. Maybe I should rethink my moniker.

  Venus Jane doesn’t really roll off the tongue though.

  Diana was still set on the nature hike. I wasn’t interested in freezing my butt off to collect a few seeds, so she went on her own. I went down to the basement so I could relax on the laundry pile and think about everything that had happened this week.

  The only really new item was Kyle. From him stemmed everything else. He was like one of those tree graphs. The contact lenses that I had begged and pleaded for for two years had caused exactly no commotion. They were just a freestanding, unconnected dot on the board. But a freckle-faced boy has made all kinds of things happen and a million new things to think about.

  To begin with, Kyle was the only one who had had anything nice to say about my contacts. So there’s even a line connecting them to him. He was the one who coined the phrase, Your eyes look like the Caribbean sea, or if he didn’t coin it, he said it in a way that sounded original and not cheesy at all. To own the truth, his compliment gave me a shot of confidence, and that doesn’t even include the frissons of excitement I feel every time we share a joke or brush up against each other, even though it is totally unintentional and not at all flirty, at least not on my side.

  It was due to Kyle’s perceptive nose that my plan to help M. Waddell got underway. To be sure, he has caused a fair amount of tension with Ned and Diana. Hannah’s advice has given me some things to think about, but it all comes back to Kyle. So there is Kyle at the center of my graph with all these other things popping off him.

  Hm.

  When I put it that way, the center of my graph is probably not where he belongs.

  A makeout session with Ned was needed to put things back in their proper order.

  I phoned Ned to see if he could get himself ungrounded, even for a half an hour. My heart still pounds every time I call over there. I’m terrified of having to talk to his bigshot father.

  Fortunately Ned picked up, but he didn’t sound too positive on the idea of getting out of the house. His dad had him cleaning the basement. That actually sounded kind of hysterical to me since they have a cleaning lady.

  Ned didn’t find it quite as entertaining so I had to cut short my snorts of laughter.

  “He’s just doing it to make me miserable, the bastard.”

  “Well, do your best. I promise, it’ll be worthwhile,” I tried to put a lot of innuendo into it by making my voice throaty.

  “Are you coming down with a cold?”

  Disgruntled that he never gets things the way I mean them, I told him no and hung up.

  I bet Kyle isn’t cleaning out his basement today.

  Jeepers, I really need to redraw my graph.

  Time passed so slowly that afternoon, I almost wished I had gone with Diana just to have something to do. Finally around three, even the laundry pile was starting to get uncomfortable. I wrapped up and left a note that I was going to the reservoir. I didn’t think Diana would still be there, but it would do as well as any other destination.

  Walking around the deserted paths through the woods, I relived the enchanted evening when Ned brought me here after the winter formal, and occasionally casting half an eye on dried stalks of milkweed.

  I wasn’t tired of walking but at four o’clock it was starting to get dark already which was making the temperature drop. Turning my boots toward home, I wished Ned would magically show up with his warm car and whisk me away somewhere for a fabulous gourmet picnic. Exercise in cold air gives a body an appetite.

  Some clouds moved in and the woods were rapidly growing darker. The crunching of my feet on the frozen grou
nd was making a terrific racket. I couldn’t hear anything, but a little piloerection on the back of my neck told me there was someone nearby. I stopped walking. I could definitely hear the sound of feet that did not belong to a squirrel or deer. It spooked me. I walked faster.

  Strange but true scientific fact: Hormones released during the “fight or flight” response cause pupils to dilate, increases respiration and makes you want to pee.

  When I could see the edge of the woods, I ran flat out. My head was down and so I did not see the body until I collided with it. I am very embarrassed to admit that I screamed.

  But what the heck? Why didn’t it move out of the way?

  I was even more shocked to discover that I recognized the body: Kyle. His point on my graph keeps getting bigger and bigger, like a big blot of ink spilled on an extra absorbent paper towel.

  At first, I was relieved it was someone I recognized. But then it freaked me out a little. Was he stalking me? What were the chances that he just happened to be at the reservoir at the same time as me on a freezing cold winter day? And why is he still wearing his sunglasses? It’s practically nighttime.

  “Hey Jane,” he said. “You run here often?”

  I stared at him in wonder, and not just because I was wearing my mouton fur coat and dress boots. “What are you doing here?”

  He ignored my question. “You want to go get some hot chocolate or something? It’s freezing.”

  Kyle was acting like it was completely normal that we had run into each other in a totally remote location, so I decided that I was the one being weird. “Ah, sure. Do you know of a place?”

  Kyle smirked ironically. “No, I was hoping you would.”

  “Oh, right.” To cover my embarrassment, I said, “Well, we’ve only been living here since August, so...”

  He listened patiently.

  “I can’t think of any place walkable.” Pause. “Do you want to come to my house?” I knew this was a bad idea before I even said it. But like the sacrificial lamb, I went inexorably forward.

  It irked me a little when Kyle didn’t answer right away. Here I was, opening my home up to him and risking the wrath of my boyfriend and he has to think about it?

  Just as I was about to retract my invitation, he said, “Sure. Sounds great. Thanks.”

  It was a chilly fifteen minute walk back to my house and it felt even longer and colder due to a sudden dearth of conversation. I was a little bit glad that Kyle had shown up without a car. If he had had a warm vehicle for me to step into, I would have been lost to Ned forever. It moved Ned a few rungs back up the ladder of comparison.

  Then again, Kyle wasn’t sixteen yet, so I could hardly hold it against him.

  I was so cold by the time we got home, I wouldn’t have said no to an offer of a lift from a creepy stranger in a conversion van with all the windows blacked out.

  When I made the proposal to Kyle to come to my house, I hadn’t reckoned on a few things; namely, my mother being in the kitchen and especially not Trey being there too.

  Even weirder was the way they welcomed Kyle like he was family. Trey asked him if he wanted to watch the game on TV. And the way Mom started bustling about making the hot chocolate, it was like she had been just waiting for him to appear because for sure she never cares if I come home chilled and in need of a hot beverage.

  I was more than slightly irritated at her interference. I had wanted to make it. It’s bad enough we only have skim milk, but then she ruins it completely by putting in Circletine because it supposedly has vitamins or something. I had been planning on melting a few chocolate bars from the secret stash into it to give it some flavor.

  So we ended up with a thin, ersatz version of hot chocolate. Nothing like what Ned makes, my second loyal thought in less than twenty minutes toward my boyfriend I almost never get to see on weekends. I smiled apologetically at Kyle and rolled my eyes in Mom’s direction.

  Kyle said, “This is great Ms. Hewitt-Grey. My mum always makes me that junk with way too much sugar.”

  My mother acted even more annoyingly hospitable after the double compliment about her rational position on sugar and calling her Miz and not Missus.

  Kyle asked if I wanted to watch the game, to which I replied with a firm No. So he diplomatically told Trey he would go down to the basement later. Mom continued to twitter around us for a while, in spite my shooting killer eye darts at her. Then she completely bowled me over by asking him to stay to dinner.

  “Mom,” I began to protest and then had to think. Did I not want him to stay out of allegiance to Ned or because I was afraid of scaring him off with my mother’s awful cooking? I wasn’t sure, but either way, I didn’t want him to stay.

  “I’m sure Kyle wasn’t planning on sticking around so long. He probably has much more interesting things to do on Saturday night.” I looked at him to back me up. “Don’t you?” Very softly I added, “My mother is a terrible cook.”

  Kyle smiled very charmingly I’m sure but when he said he’d love to stay for dinner, I didn’t know what to think. Mom pranced happily out of the room after offering to call his mother for him.

  That set off the warning bells. How in the heck did she already know his phone number? “What does your mom do for a living?”

  “Pardon?”

  I could just picture Mrs. Kyle - This was ridiculous. I didn’t even know his last name yet! - owning a show boat or a bank, something Mom could use to exploit for her not-for-profit organization.

  I repeated my question and he said, “Oh, Mum’s a solicitor. Or a lawyer, I suppose you’d say.” I thought, poor Kyle’s mum. Once my own “mum” got her hooks into the woman, she’d be finished.

  On the other hand, she was a lawyer. If she was anything like my lawyer-mother, she could probably fend for herself.

  We finished with the lame hot chocolate. Conversation was lagging a little when an idea popped into my head. “Was it just a coincidence that I ran into you at the rez?”

  “The rez?”

  “The reservoir.”

  “Oh, the rez.”

  I waited for an answer. None was forthcoming. “So, was it?”

  “Hm?” said Kyle, pretending he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  I spoke slowly. “How did it happen that you found me at the rez?”

  “Oh,” said Kyle, fiddling with his sunglasses. “Your mum told me you went there.”

  Anticipating my question, Kyle added, “I stopped by and your mum told me where you went. So I walked down there.”

  “You stopped by? For what?”

  “To see if you wanted to do something. You know, with my ‘exciting Saturday night.’” He smiled at me shyly.

  My heart did a little skip. “Why?”

  “Why?” He leaned back and flung his arms wide as if it was the most elementary question in the world. “Because you’re nice, Jane.” With that, he leaned over and put one of his hands on top of mine.

  The next two things that happened seemed to go in slow motion: Mom bustled back in one door singing out the okay from Kyle’s mum. At the same time, Ned burst through the other door and shouted, “What the hell is going on here?”

  I yanked my hand out from under Kyle’s. “Ned!” I was stumped as to what to say next. What are you doing here or You made it just didn’t seem to fit the bill.

  Kyle stood up. “Hey,” he clacked his invisigum casually in Ned’s direction. “I’ll be downstairs watching the game if you change your mind.” I couldn’t tell if it was light glinting off his ear stud or his eye, but one or the other winked at me as he sauntered out of the room.

  Even though there were more pressing matters at hand, the question of how Kyle already knew how to get into my basement popped into my mind. Did a time warp happen while I was out on my walk during which Kyle was taken on as a member of my family as a replacement for me?

  I wisely kept these mysterious matters to myself.

  My mother said formally, “Hello, Ned.” And then, for on
ce in her life, she was tactful and silently withdrew.

  “Ned!” I said again. “Hi!” I was sure Mom was still lurking somewhere nearby so I kissed him on the cheek. “So, you escaped?” I gave a phony little laugh.

  He was not in a joking mood. “You invited me over so I could watch you and that jerk hold hands?”

  “We weren’t holding hands. It was a mistake. He just put his hand down on top of mine...to show me how hot it was from the chocolate.”

  Ned was unconvinced.

  I thought a combination put-down/compliment might do the trick. “My mom makes the worst hot chocolate, nothing like yours...”

  Ned cut me off. “I don’t know what’s up with you Jane. But I know it sucks I’m grounded all the time. If you want to go out with someone else, why don’t you just say so?”

  “What? No!” I practically yelled. I wished it weren’t so cold outside. I would really prefer to be having this conversation out of earshot of my mother, amongst other people. “No, that’s not it at all. Do you have your car?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  “Can we go sit in it, please?”

  Ned’s jaw was still set in a hard line but he agreed.

  I pulled him out the door sans coat. We got into the car, but it wasn’t much warmer than outside.

  “Do you mind turning on the heat?” I asked timidly.

  Ned complied. “Talk fast. I don’t have much time.”

  “Okay. So. Kyle just showed up here, or at the rez, but my mom told him I was there...”

  “You went with him to the rez?” Another dagger in Ned’s heart.

  I recited π to the twenty-fifth decimal place. “No. I did not go with Kyle to the reservoir. I went alone and he showed up as I was leaving. I was pretty much back on the sidewalk when he just appeared, I thought, totally coincidentally. But it turns out, my mother told him I was there during some time-space warp when they became best buddies and then he came back to my house and Mom insisted on making him hot chocolate and Trey asked him to stay to watch the game on TV and then my mom asked him to stay for dinner because she must have some angle she’s trying to work on his mum or mom...” I finally ran out of breath, but it was important to get as much of the story out as possible before Ned kicked me out of the car.