Crushing On The Geek (Crushing On You) (4 page)

      “I'm supposed to hang out with Amber tonight! It's not my night to babysit!”

      “Sorry, but there's a sale at the mall and I'm going to be out late.”

      “Of course, there's a sale at the mall! Maybe that's where we were going to go!”

      “You can go on Friday!”

      “No, I can't. Friday I have chess and Amber always hangs out with Josh on Fridays! Can't you wait until tomorrow to go?”

      “No, they'll be nothing left then.”

      “That's sort of the point I'm making.”

      “Tamara, shopping is my thing, leave it to me, okay, girl? I'll pick you up after school so you'll be home on time.”

      “Fine!” Tamara said and hung up the phone.

      “Looks like I'm not hanging out with either of you,” Tamara said rejoining the others, “I have to babysit the brats.”

      “That sucks! Well, what about Saturday after the tournament?” Hayden asked.

      Tamara glanced at Amber, who nodded violently.

      “That sounds good.”

Chapter Three

      By Friday afternoon Tamara was able to beat the computer player on the easiest level of the chess program she had downloaded to her laptop, but she was still unable to beat Hayden or any of the others.

      “Checkmate.” Hayden called for the third time that afternoon.

      Tamara crossed her arms and sank lower in her chair. Her sneaker clad foot tapped against the tiles and her fingers tapped on her arm.

      “You're getting better,” Hayden said, reaching across the table to brush a stray lock of Tamara's hair away from her face. She moved out of his reach and brushed it behind her ear.

      “You don't have to be nice about it, Hayden,” she said, pushing herself back up so that she was sitting in the chair properly once again, “I know I suck.”

      “Did you learn to play volleyball in a day?”

      “No, I actually don't remember learning to play. I was born with that talent.”

      “I don't remember learning to read,” Hayden arched an eyebrow, “but I'm sure people remember teaching me. When something becomes second nature we often think we were born with it.”

      “So what talent were you born with?” Tamara asked.

      While she waited for Hayden to answer Tamara placed her pieces back onto their proper squares. He wouldn't meet her eyes as his hands moved across the pieces.

      “I was born with the right to exist,” he finally answered.

      “I hate to break it to you, but I think we're all born with that,” Tamara laughed, leaning her elbows on the table.

      “Maybe, but not everyone does.”

      “Not everyone exists?” Tamara arched an eyebrow and curled her lips into a questioning look, “Um.. That doesn't make any damn sense.”

      “Well, I guess everyone exists. I should have been clearer. I was born with the right to exist as I am and with the talent to claim that right.”

      “What?”

      “Basically, I was born with anti-bullshit talent. I'm not going to be someone I'm not.”

      “I don't think any of us can be what were not,” Tamara lied and bit her lip for a pause in the conversation, “I mean we're born as us so what else can we be?”

      “Never mind,” Hayden shrugged.

      “Okay guys, gather round,” Greg said.

      “Guess we're not getting in one last game,” Hayden said, putting the pieces quickly back into their allotted spaces in the box.”

      “Guess not.”

      “Come on, guys,” Greg said, tapping his foot as he stood in front of Sir Bedivere. His hand idly traced the contour of one of the statues ears.

      Tamara joined the rest of the group, but stayed in the back with Hayden.

      “We've all worked really hard getting ready for this tournament so I know we’re going to kick butt, but none-the-less we still have to give thanks where it's due. Sir Bedivere has been our team's good luck charm since before any of us were born. For those of you who don't know we usually leave candies or something else important for him.”

      “He's a statue,” Hayden called out, “He doesn't eat.”

      “Well, the candies always disappear,” Cindy cut in, “but the wrappers are always left behind.”

      “The janitor probably eats them,” Hayden smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

      “Mr. Bowens wouldn't do that!” Cindy said.

      “That's enough, guys!” Greg said wrapping his arm around Cindy, “Any way, it's what we do and it's never failed us before. If something's not broke don't screw with it.”

      “Whatever.”

      Tamara looked at Hayden out of the corner of her eye wondering where was the right to exist now? She bit her tongue to stifle laughter that threatened to bubble over her lips.

      “Anyway, let's get started, guys,” Greg said.

      Tamara watched her team mates one by one leaving various offerings of small candies, little figurines, flowers, and other various things. Cindy left a full bag of caramels and before Sir Bedivere Greg sat a package of three caramel candy apples. After they left their offering each of them collected their things and left. Tamara noticed that none of them looked at Sir Bedivere as they left. Their eyes were purposely diverted from him as if they feared that the knight statue would be too bashful to claim his offering if they were watching.

      “Do you believe this?” Hayden asked once he and Tamara were alone in the room.

      “I don't know what to think. It's odd, but I think it's nothing more than a superstition,” she shrugged picking up her backpack, “Even a lot of sports teams have them.”

      “So they're borrowing from the jocks?” Hayden asked, examining each of the offerings in turn.

      “No, it's a lot older than that,” Tamara arched, an eyebrow and shoved her hand into her purse. Usually, she carried something sweet in case she needed a pick-me-up in between classes. Today her stash was empty.

      “Want one?” Hayden asked, cutting through the hard plastic packaging of the candy apples with a pair of scissors.

      “I don't think we should bother that stuff,” she said.

      “Why not? There's two of us, that would still leave one for the janitor,” Hayden said, pulling the first one out and offering it to Tamara. Her hand shook as her fingers wrapped around the wooden stick that was speared into the middle of the fruit.

      “Go, on,” Hayden said, “Unless you think he poisoned them.”

      “Nah, he wouldn't want to kill off Sir Bedivere,” Tamara said and slowly sank her teeth into the apple. Her taste buds were instantly overwhelmed by chocolate and caramel and then by the juicy sweetness of the bright red apple underneath. The juice dribbled from the corners of her mouth and onto her chin before she wiped it away with the sleeve of her hoodie.

      “These are good,” she nodded taking another bite.

      “Exactly. So why waste them on a janitor?”

      Tamara's skin gave rise to more goosebumps with every bite she took.

      “Crap!” she said, throwing the core and the stick into the trash can, “My mom doesn't like to wait! I've got to go! See you tomorrow!”

Chapter Four

      The red numbers of the digital clock across the room told Tamara it was three minutes past midnight, but she was still unable to sleep. She turned her pillow over to the colder side and nuzzled her face into it. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up and every time she closed her eyes she saw the black empty eyes of Sir Bedivere staring back at her. Tamara couldn't shake the silly image from her head, except, it didn't feel silly.

      A statue can't eat, Tamara reminded herself. Sir Bedivere had no use for what we took and we did leave one for the janitor or whoever comes in and eats the offerings. We weren't stingy. It's not like we stole anything. Tamara bit her lip.

      Great, now I'm lying to myself she thought as she turned her pillow over again. Why wouldn't the damn thing just stay cold? She flopped onto her back looking up through the dark at the ceiling. She was going to have to tell Greg what they did, because no matter what Hayden said, it was theft.

      Tamara shivered under the blankets. October was cooler this year than it ever had been in her memory. Her mom lived by the iron fisted rule of not running the heat until November third, so until then she was just going to have to tough it out. Comforted to know that her anxiety was about nothing more than having allowed herself to be convinced to take what wasn't hers, Tamara wiggled under the blankets and fell asleep with her cheek pressed to the cool side of her pillow.

      During the early morning hours Tamara jolted awake, sitting straight up before jumping to her feet. Her body was tensed for a fight, eyes straining to find the source of her anxiety, and ears straining to listen to the distant sound that had woken her. The sound of small wings fluttered and batting against a hard surface again and again.

      “It's a moth,” Tamara said out loud, sitting down cross legged on her bed, “Or a June bug.”

      Tamara startled awake several more times before her alarm clock sounded at five thirty. It was an hour drive to the school that was hosting the event, in the next town over and Tamara was supposed to meet Hayden for breakfast at seven before meeting up with the rest of the team at eight.

      She splashed her face with cold water trying to chase away the morning fog and the half-waking dreams her mind refused to let go of. When she was done in the bathroom Tamara returned to her room and checked her window for the corpse of the bug or moth that had been trapped the night before. The window pane was empty, both inside and out.

      “Must have gotten away,” Tamara said, turning towards her closet.

      After stepping into her favorite long denim skirt and a red sweater she examined her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Her eyes were blood shot and looked like she needed toothpicks to hold her eyelids up. She stepped closer to the mirror to apply her foundation. An inch below her eyes her reflection was blurred by two tiny sets of hand prints.

      “What the?” Tamara said and took a step back.

      She blinked a few times and pinched her arm.

      “Ouch!” she cried and looked again. The hand prints were still there. What could have such tiny hands? The prints were even too small to belong to Tina and Tally, her six year old sisters.

      Tamara decided not to wear makeup to the tournament and went downstairs.

      “Mom! Wake up! We have to leave in fifteen minutes!” she shouted and banged on her parents' bedroom door.

      “Shut up, Tamara!” her mom called back, “Don't you dare wake up Tina and Tally! I plan on taking my ass back to bed once I drop you off. I'm going to a sale in St. Louis later today. Do you think you could get a ride back with someone from the club?”

      “Maybe. I don't know. Why didn't you tell me yesterday so I could try to make plans?” Tamara slammed the empty orange juice container into the trash can.

      “Because I didn't find out about it after you went to bed last night!”

      “Whatever. What happened to all the orange juice and milk?”

      “There should be a full gallon of milk in there, open your eyes and I just opened a new container of oj yesterday morning.”

      “Well, they're gone now! Tamara said, tossing the empty milk jug into the trash too.

      “What the?”

      “Never mind, Mom. Really, it's okay. We'll figure it out later,” Tamara said, closing the refrigerator, “We need to leave soon. I don't want to be late.”

      “Mrs. Kelly said you didn't have to be there until eight to register?”

      “Yeah, but remember I'm meeting Hayden for breakfast.”

      “And why couldn't this Hayden kid pick you up this morning?”

      “I dunno, because I didn't ask him?” Tamara shrugged.

      “Then why don't you call him and find out?”

      “Fine!” Tamara dug into the bottom of her purse and retrieved her cellphone. Fortunately, she had saved his number to her contacts when he called her. It rang twice and went to voice mail. “He's not answering.”

      “Sounds about right,” Mrs. Page, said stomping off into the bathroom.

      Tamara's phone vibrated her palm.

      “Hey,” Hayden's voice came from the other end of the line, “Either you're there really early or my clock's wrong.” His voice sounded thick with sleep and Tamara imagined him with bed head and holding a cup of coffee with his free hand. The image made her blush and shake her head.

      “Neither. My mom is trying to bail on giving me a ride, so I was wondering….”

      “Yeah, that's fine. I was going to ask you yesterday,” Hayden paused, taking a drink of something, causing Tamara's blush to deepen, “but you left before I could. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Not a problem. See you then,” Hayden said and the line went dead.

      “Never mind, Mom!” Tamara shouted, slipping her arms into her hoodie and went outside without waiting for an answer.

      Leaves fell from the oak tree in the yard and were caught by the air currents. Tamara watched them swirl in mini-tornadoes before landing softly on the ground. She sat on the steps and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. Now that the adrenaline from arguing with her mother was fading, Tamara was exhausted. Her eyes drifted shut only to be startled open seconds later when Hayden pulled into the driveway.

      Tamara drug herself onto her feet and into the car. She dropped her purse on the floorboard, fastened her seat belt, and locked the door before greeting Hayden.

      “Morning.”

      “You look like you got about as much sleep as I did.”

      “Guilty conscience, I guess,” Tamara closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat.

      “There was a damn bug trapped in my room last night and I couldn't find it.”

      Tamara arched an eyebrow and opened her eyes.