Making Out (6 page)

In the background, Marianna heard Heather repeating the message to Lisa Marie, who agreed weakly.

“Thank you,” Marianna said. “You two are the best. You always say the right things.”

But just in case they didn't, she would wait until tomorrow to tell them how Luke had dumped her.

 

 

 

 

“Squeeze in, everyone,” Mr. Rayburn told the third period civics class the next morning as he wrote a list of terms on the chalkboard and waved people into the room. “Mr. Young was called away for an emergency, so we're combining both groups today.”

Chairs squeaked and tables groaned across the linoleum floor.

“Mr. Young's people, just push those tables against the wall—you can sit on them,” Mr. Rayburn said.

Marianna glanced up from the civics chapter she had been skimming, trying to cram during the five minutes before class started—which was what happened when she was so pissed at someone, she blew off the reading the night before. She spotted Luke, the very someone she was pissed at, standing in the doorway to the classroom.

He met her eyes with a question, but she looked away quickly. Was he wondering why she had skipped tempo training that morning? Easy one. Tempo training was optional on Fridays. Why show up and give him another chance to humiliate her?

The room echoed with desks and tables being pushed back and scooted around. When the crowd settled, Luke was sitting knees up, back against the wall, on the floor, directly in her line of sight.

She kept her head bent, skimming the chapter over and over but not taking in a word of it.

“So who can tell me what the Supreme Court's role was in deciding the 2000 election?” Mr. Rayburn asked. “And how does it demonstrate our system of checks and balances?”

Marianna's hand went up. “It doesn't. The Supreme Court took control of the voting process and determined the outcome of the election,” she said. “If it hadn't been for—”

“No, I'm not asking a political question,” Mr. Rayburn interrupted her. “I'm talking about how each branch of the government has separate powers and responsibilities.”

Great. Now Rayburn was dismissing her like a child, in front of Luke.

Luke's hand shot up while Mr. Rayburn was still talking.

“Yes?” Rayburn called on him.

“Marianna's right,” Luke said. “The system is supposed to have checks and balances, but they didn't work in the 2000 election because the court decided the whole thing. The court shouldn't be deciding our elections . . .”

His voice trailed off, and someone else chimed in on the debate, but Marianna wasn't really listening. Her heart was pumping a little irregular rhythm, and she was holding her own internal debate on a much more important issue: Should she look over at Luke right now and smile?

He had defended her! That had to mean something good, didn't it?

Maybe he hadn't been mocking her last night with that matinee comment after all. Maybe he really meant it. Could he possibly want to go to an afternoon movie?

She doodled pictures of King Kong, the movie they were supposed to go see, through the rest of the class. Finally the bell rang.

Luke was first out the door, but he was waiting for her in the hallway.

“Hi,” he said. “I missed you this morning.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I'd take a break,” she said cautiously. She wanted to say,
I missed you, too,
but she wasn't in the mood to go out on any limbs. “That was nice in class—you backing me up.”

“You were right,” Luke said. “These teachers who don't want to get into political discussions drive me crazy. What's the point of learning civics?”

He jerked his head toward the main hallway. “I have Spanish. You going that way?”

Marianna shook her head. Her next class was in the opposite direction.

Luke shrugged. “Okay, well . . .”

Was he just going to walk off without saying a thing about their date? Was it on or off?

“So do you want to maybe study for the civics exam after school today?” he said. “We could do it before nine thirty p.m. Daylight saving time doesn't even start until next weekend.”

Unbelievable. He was mocking her again!

Marianna spun around and started to stomp away, but Luke grabbed her arm.

“Hey, wait, wait. I was just kidding. What's wrong?”

“You're trying to make me feel like a jerk about my curfew,” Marianna snapped. “That crack about going to a matinee? If you want to get out of our date, just say so.”

His blue eyes opened wide. “No. No, I don't want to get out of our date,” he said quickly. “I was serious about the matinee. If that works better for you, then let's just go tomorrow afternoon.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded, and since he was still holding on to the arm of her sweater, he gave it a little tug. “Meet me after school by the statue, and we'll figure it out.”

Then he flashed his irresistible smile at her one more time and hurried down the hall.

Marianna felt happier inside than she could remember feeling in a long time. Suddenly, everything about St. Claire's Academy seemed . . . what was the word?
Nice
. The hallways, with their wooden wainscot paneling and old stone floors were nice. The heavy doorways leading from the west corridor and down a flight of steps were nice. Having a calculus quiz right before lunch was nice because . . . she had to think hard to come up with a reason . . . because it meant she didn't have to worry about taking it in the afternoon. The smell of macaroni and cheese bubbling in the cafeteria kitchen? Nice. It reminded her of grade school.

Floating, she found her way to her next class without even thinking about how she got there. All she could think about was Luke. His cute smile; his hard, muscular chest; the way he bent his head slightly when he was talking to her. What a relief to finally talk
up
to a guy.

The only problem was her dad, but she had decided there was no way she'd let that be an issue. She simply wouldn't tell him about her dates. Nope. She was going to see Luke on the sly, and let her father think she was just spending lots of time with Lisa Marie and Heather.

She had it all figured out—except for one thing.

What if Luke asked her to the prom? She'd already made Heather and Lisa Marie
swear
they'd go as a group.

No, if things worked out with Luke, she was going to have to come up with a new plan. Maybe she, Lisa Marie, and Heather could go to prom as a group . . . but then meet up with various guys when they got there. That could work. From the looks of things at Starbucks, Lisa Marie was going to have to fight guys off with a stick.

Heather was another story, though. She didn't really seem to be trying.

Marianna and Lisa Marie would have to put their heads together and come up with someone for Heather; that's all there was to it.

Instant message:

 

 

 

 

Katie Morgan had the most perfectly shaped head on the planet, and Heather couldn't stop staring at it. Katie was four rows in front of her in French class. Her head rose like a jewel on the long stem of her neck, and sat there on display, like an exhibit in a museum. Even from the back, with her silky blond hair cascading over her shoulders, the shape of her head was simply spectacular.

I bet she'll look amazing in her prom dress,
Heather thought, imagining something strapless.

Heather had already bought her own dress for the prom, the green beaded flapper thing she'd tried on a few weeks ago when Lisa Marie was obsessing in BCBG. It wasn't the typical look other St. Claire's girls would be wearing, which was why Heather loved it. Who wanted to be one of the Stepford girls, sucking up to other people's trends? Better to be original. Not so everyone else would follow you, but so they wouldn't.

If only she could make Katie follow her somewhere . . . anywhere . . .

For the past five days, Heather had been desperately trying to read the signs, trying to figure out whether she and Katie were ever going to happen. But it was like reading tea leaves. There were signals, but what did they really mean?

Sure, Katie was really friendly to her lately. Ever since they'd been paired up as lab partners, she'd been smiling every time she passed Heather in the halls, making small talk in the cafeteria line, asking to borrow Heather's eyeliner in the restroom.

But was Katie flirting with her? Or just being nice? Did it
mean
something when Katie passed by at lunch and fixed the label in Heather's shirt—something other than
Your label is out, you stupid geek
?

And what about all those guys Katie was nice to? Randall Devalier got at least as much face time with Katie as Heather did.

Now there was an awful thought. What if Katie went to the prom with a guy?

There was only one thing she knew for sure: Now that Katie was on her radar screen, Heather didn't want to lie to herself about being gay. Not that she was ready to let anyone else know. That would be way too scary. But at least she wasn't going to deny her own feelings inside the privacy of her own head.

The bell finally rang for the end of class. Heather leapt up, hoping to bump into Katie on the way out, but it didn't happen. Katie was gone pretty fast.

Marianna caught up with Heather in the hallway. “I saw who you were watching during class,” she announced with a knowing grin.

Heather froze. Her throat felt tight. This was the moment she'd been trying to avoid. But Marianna was grinning, totally pleased with herself.

“Who?”

“Tony.” Marianna beamed. “And I can see why. He's perfect for you!”

Tony? It took a second for Heather to even process the name. Tony Vilanch? Why on earth . . . ?

Oh, right. He was sitting two seats over from Katie.

“Hmm,” Heather said, trying to bluff a mild interest even though all she could think was,
Don't get carried away, Marianna
.

She headed toward her locker on the way to lunch. Marianna followed.

“Don't you think he's perfect for you?” Marianna sounded hurt that her brainstorm wasn't being met with jubilation. “I mean, seriously. He's the ultimate metrosexual. You and he have so much in common.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know. Everything,” Marianna said. “He's on the staff of the lit mag, isn't he?”

“So what?”

Heather stuffed her books in her locker and slammed it.

“I think he does illustrations,” Marianna said. “And you do layout for the yearbook. You're both arty.”