Secondary Characters (7 page)

For the next two weeks I ignore Amber and the guys. Avoiding Amber proves to be easy enough; she’s totally wrapped up in her new, perfect boyfriend. Every once in a while she stops by my locker for a couple minutes, usually to tell me about something Nick did or said that was “so stinkin’ cute!”
Yeah, adorable.

Lance is more difficult at first. He seems to be everywhere. Twice on Monday I see him lingering by my locker. Both times I go straight to my next class without getting the stuff I needed for it and end up getting yelled at by my teachers. Crappy, but better than having to face him.

But he must have finally taken the hint. Now he avoids me, too.

The real problem is English class.

English is a class I normally don’t mind, but it’s the one class I have with Lance and it sucks. Thank God he sits two rows in front of me. So when I find myself staring at him, which is far too often, at least I don’t have to worry about him noticing.

My eyes roam over his broad shoulders and the curve of his neck when the teacher calls his name.

“Lance, why don’t you come up here and read this part,” Mrs. Sandberg says. We’ve been studying Shakespeare, and every once in a while she makes someone get up and read out loud. She says Shakespeare was meant to be performed, experienced, not just read from a book in a classroom. Most of the class can’t stand her.

Lance walks up to the front of the classroom holding Romeo and Juliet. I’ve been daydreaming and have no idea what part we’re on.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun.” His eyes stay glued to the page as he reads the beginning of the balcony scene. His voice is soft. I watch the way his lips move as he speaks. “It is my lady, O, it is my love!”

“No, no, no,” Mrs. Sandberg interrupts him. He stops and looks up at her. “This is the moment when he sees Juliet, his love! You can’t say it to a book.” She starts to survey the class. “Perhaps we need someone else to come up, too. Someone to play off of.” Her eyes stop on me.

No no no no no! Please don’t make me go up there.

“Mabel, why don’t you come up and read the part of Juliet?”

What can I say?
I can’t, if I do I might burst into flames.
I slowly stand up and stare at my feet as I walk to the front of the room to stand beside Lance. I grip my book like it’s a life preserver.

“Now turn to each other and begin again,” Mrs. Sandberg says.

I’m really starting to hate her.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks,” Lance says again, still speaking to the page. Then suddenly he looks up at me. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief.”

The poor moon. I know how she feels.

His eyes are so blue. My heart feels like it is being pulled right out of my chest, like some sort of magnetic force is tugging it toward him so strongly I might just tip over.

“It is my lady, O, it is my love.” His eyes are still locked on mine. They’re dark blue pools I could dive right into.

“O that she knew she were,” he says softly and I swear his cheeks get a little pink. He takes this extra-long pause that goes forever, or maybe it just seems that way to me because I’ve stopped breathing.

“Ay me,” I say Juliet’s line with a sigh. Someone in the back row coughs and things return to normal. The magnet is turned off; I’m able to pull my gaze away from his face and fill my lungs with air again. I feel my cheeks get hot. I carefully avoid eye contact with him as we finish reading the scene.

The bell rings and I sprint out of the room at a speed a cheetah would envy.

I try to shake him out of my head. It’s all so crazy. A month ago I barely registered his existence, except to roll my eyes at some stupid joke. Now he’s all I can think about. The way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. His dimples. The fact that he understood what it feels like to always be in someone else’s shadow, to feel like a secondary character in your own life. The way that he made that feeling go away, if only for a moment. The look on his face and the sound of his laugh when we sat together on his front steps. It echoes in my head.
I’m so pathetic.

Chapter Twelve

I dump my dark blue messenger bag into my locker with a “thump” and half my things come falling out. I don’t even care. I scoop a lip gloss tube off the floor, toss it in and slam the locker door shut. I’m grumpy and whiny to the point I’m even annoying myself. There are posters all over the halls for some stupid dance. Amber and all the other girls talking about dresses and jewelry and high heels, have not helped my mood.

I see one of the posters as I run from English class and am tempted to rip it right off the wall.
Bitter much?

On the upside, at least no one has really had to deal with me. I’ve become pretty good at avoiding all human contact. The fact that no one seems to mind makes it even worse though. The closest thing I’ve had to a conversation with Amber lately is a Facebook tag. She thanked me and Lance via status update for helping her and Nick get together.

No problem, Amber. That’s what I’m here for, after all. The job of a secondary character is to help the heroine. And the heroine always gets her man.

All it cost me was a bruised ego and a few weeks of having to go into hiding.

Blech. I know I’m being over-dramatic and it’s all so stupid. A few weeks ago everything was fine. And it’s
Lance.
Obnoxious, loud-mouthed, thinks-he’s-so-hilarious (except maybe he kind of is), sweet, helpful, adorable Lance. Oh God, how did this happen?

When I get home after school I drop my crap in the entryway and bolt for my room. I shut the door and have my finger on the button to my stereo when I hear Sophie’s voice outside my door.

“Will you read to me?” she asks, and I can hear her tapping a book against my door.

“Not. Right. Now,” I say as nicely as I can.

“Will you play Mario Kart with me?”

“Not now.” My jaw tightens. I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. It’s not like she’s trying to annoy me.

“How about Just Dance?” Her voice is chipper, despite the first two rejections, and I can’t hold in my irritation anymore.

“No! Leave me alone,” I snap.

There’s silence on the other side of the door. No footsteps. She’s still standing there.

“You’re grumpy!” she finally yells back before stomping off down the hall.

Sorry, Sophs. Yes, yes I am. I hit the button on the stereo and lay down on my bed, hoping the music will drown out the rest of the day.

***

I’m not sure what the hell went wrong, but I’ve decided I’m not giving up just yet. Something about the way Mabel looked at me in English class made me think maybe, just maybe, I still have a shot. It may only be wishful thinking. Okay, it’s
probably
just wishful thinking, but I don’t care.

I head over to Nick’s after school, where I know he’s hanging out with Amber. I have one last hope. And I’m not afraid to beg.

“Please, Amber,” I say, trying to look sheepish and desperate. Which isn’t a far stretch.

“I don’t know. I don’t like to butt in.” She’s sitting on the couch with Nick, her leg swung up over his. They look annoyingly cuddly.

“Come on, if I hadn’t butted in you two wouldn’t even be together. The way I see it, you both owe me.”

“He has a point,” Nick says to her, running his hand up and down her arm. “I didn’t exactly wow you on our first date.”

No kidding.
She giggles.
“It was cute seeing you all nervous,” she says, the end of the sentence coming out in baby talk. She starts whispering in his ear and I look at the floor so they won’t see me roll my eyes and sigh.
Oh my God! Knock it off people!

I grind my teeth. After all, I need their help. But inside I am ripping my hair out. No, I’m ripping their hair out.
You’re happy and perfect, we get it already. Could it please not be about you for five freaking seconds!

They finally get done complimenting and petting each other. They turn and look at me like they’re surprised I’m still here. Or maybe they forgot about me altogether. I have no idea.

“Please,” I say again, pressing my palms together.

Amber sighs and twirls her hair around her finger. The clock ticks as she decides whether or not to help me or leave me in a pathetic pile of misery.

“Oh, all right. I guess it would be okay.”

“Yes! Thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to talk her into it.”

“Just don’t say anything to her about me pathetically begging, okay?”

Amber laughs and shakes her head as if to say,
you stupid boy.
She’s successful in making me feel about three feet tall. “All right, I promise. Not a word.” She puts her hand on her heart and I let out a sigh of relief and lean back into my chair. I close my eyes and think about the look on Mabel’s face in English class. Then I remember her standing in front of her locker basically telling me to get a life.

I hope Amber can get her here.

***

After school I pack my backpack as fast as humanly possible and spin around to make my daily dash to my car. I almost crash right into Amber.

“Geez, Maybie, what’s the rush?” she asks, stumbling backward.

“Um, sorry,” I say, scanning the hall for any sign of Lance. There are people everywhere, but I don’t see him. “I guess I wasn’t looking.”

“What’s up with you? You seem all jumpy.”

“I’m fine,” I say a bit too quickly.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you? I’m sorry,” she whines. “I know I haven’t been around much lately. It’s just that Nick—”

I cut her off before she can get going about how fabulous new relationships are and how she really didn’t
mean
to ignore me. I so don’t want to hear it. Besides, to be fair,
I’m
the one who is avoiding
her
.

“Amber, it’s fine. Seriously. I’m not mad,” I say as sincerely as possible while trying to get around her so I can get the hell out of this school.

“Oh, good.” She lets out a big sigh and takes a side step, effectively blocking my path. Then she quickly moves on to her next topic. “I was hoping we could hang out at your place tonight.” She looks at me with big, wide puppy-dog eyes. “I miss you.”

I stop.
What is she up to now?

“Come on.” She laughs, slapping my arm. “We need a girls’ night. Just us. What do you say?”

I hesitate for only a second. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like fun.” Maybe some gossip and cookie dough is just the distraction I need.

“Good, I’ll see you tonight!” Her grin is a little too wide.

This better not be a trick.

Chapter Thirteen

Amber’s been at my house for all of twenty-five minutes when she says, “Sooooo, Nick just texted me. He’s over at Lance’s place and they want to know if we’ll join them. What do you think?”

I start to get hot. My blood is boiling and surely she can see my skin starting to bubble. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. Serious evil death-ray eyes.

“Come on! You had fun with Lance before, right?” She’s all wide-eyed innocence and I want to wring her neck.

“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, he was fine. Nice. Whatever. But I don’t want to go over there. This was supposed to be a girls’ night. Remember?”

She pulls out all the stops. “Please, Maybie,” she whines. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” I don’t say anything, just keep giving her the evil eye. “Come on, we won’t be there all night. We can still have girls’ night when we get back.”

“Amber,” I start, but she immediately cuts me off.

“I’ll make you chocolate chip cookies. Or the brownies you like with the Reese’s peanut butter cups in them.” She grins at me and wags her eyebrows up and down. I don’t budge. “Pleeeease,” she begs, getting down on her knees and waddling over to me and sticking out her bottom lip as far as it will go.

“Fine,” I growl, giving in out of sheer exhaustion. “Just let me go get cleaned up.” I rub my hands down my face as I leave the room.

She squeals her thanks as I shut the bathroom door. I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are red and I’m trying my damnedest not to cry when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“Just a minute, Amber, okay?” I whine at the doorknob.

“It’s Sophie,” my little sister’s voice replies. “Can I come in?”

I sigh. “Okay, come in,” I say, wiping at my eyes and hoping she won’t notice. She walks in wearing her pink ruffled pjs, shuts the door behind her and sits down on top of the toilet seat. I don’t turn around, but I can see her in the mirror.

“Amber says you’re getting ready for a date with Lance,” she says with a silly voice, stretching out the
A
in Lance. “I like Lance,” she says, smiling into the mirror at me.

Yeah, me too.

“Well, it’s not really a date. Amber has a date, I’m just going with.”

“Why?” she asks, cocking her head to one side.

Hmm, that’s a very good question. I stare at her face in the mirror and try to come up with a good answer.

“For fun,” I finally lie as I reapply my mascara.

She’s still staring at me in the mirror, a little smile on her face.

“When I’m big, I hope I’m just like you,” she says out of nowhere.

I turn around and look at her, my heart suddenly too big for my chest. She’s always been my number one fan. I kneel down on the rug in front of her and put my hands on her knees.

“Sophie, you are all kinds of awesome.”

She grins and I feel so much better. We hear mom calling her name and Sophie scurries off as quickly as she came. I look at myself in the mirror again. My face is no longer red. In fact, I look pretty good. I realize something.

This is my story. It’s not Amber’s. If I don’t want to go, I don’t have to.

I’m ready to go tell her that, but my feet won’t move.

The real problem is I
want
to go. I want to see Lance.

Damn it.

Chapter Fourteen