Saving Zoë

Ten

By Monday at school Jenay and Chess are officially a couple. Though that’s really no surprise for those of us forced to watch them make out for the remainder of my party. And as I head for the lunch table that has gotten so crowded weVe merged with the one beside it, I actually have to fight the urge to just turn around and bolt.

I mean, where would I go? Back to junior high? Because obviously, that’s no longer an option. So instead I take a deep breath and smile at everyone, including Parker — who I’ve managed to avoid until now.

“Hey,” I say, dropping my lunch on the table, and easing onto the long yellow bench.

Jenay smiles then goes right back to her story, and by the time she’s finished everyone is laughing. Well, everyone but me. Since it’s the one about how when she and Abby were watching her baby brother and he squirted them both in the face just as they were changing his diaper, which believe me, I’ve heard like a million times before.

So I just reach into my lunch pack and retrieve my sandwich, trying to ignore the fact that Parker is waving at me, trying to get my attention.

“Hey, wake up,” he says, leaning toward me and smiling. “I called you last night but it went straight to voice mail. I got your number from Jenay. I hope that’s okay?”

“Oh, sorry about that,” I say, twisting the top off my Snapple and taking a sip. “My phone was off, and by the time I realized you’d called…” I just shrug, letting that trail off to nothing. Because the truth is, it’s not like I was going to call him back anyway. And it’s not because I don’t like him, I mean, I’m not exactly sure how I feel about him. It’s mostly because I’m so freaking lame I don’t know what to say after “hello.”

“Did you have a good weekend?” he asks.

I think about the book I read, the homework I finished, Zoë’s diary, and shrug. “Yeah. You?”

He nods, still leaning toward me, still smiling, still gazing at me with those deep blue eyes.

But when I see him looking at me like that, ignoring everyone else just so he can concentrate solely on me, it makes me feel so freaked out, so nervous, and so totally inadequate, that I stand up and say, “Urn, I’ll be right back.”

Then I abandon my lunch, abandon the table, and run out the door, desperate for fresh air and a temporary respite from the worst part of me — the pathetic, fearful, morbidly insecure part. The part that wonders why a guy as cute as Parker would ever like a girl as dorky as me, why anyone anywhere would ever like me.

I run past the burnout tree, the one where all the hard-core partiers hang, thinking how they’re the only group in this whole entire school who never point, stare, or whisper as I pass. But maybe that’s because they’re just too stoned to care. I mean the cheerleaders, the song leaders, the drill teamers, the mascots, the jocks, the drama freaks, the band geeks, the science nerds, the fashionistas, the club leaders, the council reps, the Goths, the Preps, the ROTC marchers, the girls who starve to be skinny, the girls who barf to be skinny, the scrawny guys, the wannabes, the techies, the sluts, the virgins, the cutters, the Future Farmers of America, the alterna artists, the rainbow kids — the one thing they all have in common is that they all stare at me. Every single one of them. But the major druggies? Not so much. So it feels pretty safe to pass by.

I head toward the bathroom, even though I don’t really plan on going inside. But it’s good to have as a decoy route in case Abby decides to come looking for me again. And then just as I turn down the hall where I’d planned to lean against the wall until the bell rings, I see Marc sitting not two feet away.

“Oh. Hey,” I say, surprised to not only run into him again, but also to see that he’s smoking, on campus, as though it’s actually allowed or something.

He just looks at me and nods, squinting his eyes as he takes another drag.

“I was just on my way to—” I point straight ahead, feeling the need to explain my presence, yet feeling embarrassed by how fake I sound.

But he just drops his cigarette, smashes it with his thick, rubber-soled boot, looks up at me, and goes, “Did you read it?”

I gaze down at the ground, not wanting him to know.

Then he gets up from the bench and brushes right past me. “You will when you’re ready,” he says, walking away.

“Where the heck did you go? Parker thinks you hate him.” Jenay merges her brows together and shakes her head. “He waited so long, he was late to class.”

“Why would I hate him?” I ask, focusing my guilt-ridden gaze on the sidewalk, as we head toward home.

“Uh, because you ran off and never returned? I’m serious, Echo, you should’ve seen him. He just sat there with your lunch right in front of him, wondering if he should save it, eat it, toss it, or what.”

She’s staring at me, I can feel it. But since Abby’s in the middle, that means I’ll have to go through her if I want to confirm it. And I feel really uncomfortable talking about all of this, partly because it makes me feel weird, inept, and embarrassed, but also because I know Abby likes Parker too. She has for years. She just won’t admit it.

But Abby’s totally on to me, and she’s not about to let me off easy. “Don’t be going all AWOL on my account. So what if I think he’s cute. I think a lot of guys are cute. And it’s not like I was all attached or anything,” she says, kicking a rock out of her path and shrugging like she really doesn’t care. “So if you really like him, then just go for it, Echo. Don’t hold back because of me.”

“Do you like him?” Jenay asks, her eyes growing hopeful and wide as she waits for a definite answer.

Only the thing is, I don’t have a definite answer. Because I’m not really sure how I feel. Though I do know there’s a “right” answer, one that will make her happy, and hopefully put an end to all of this. So I take a deep breath and say, “Totally. I mean, why wouldn’t I? He’s cute, and sweet, and smart. And it’s not like there’s anything wrong with him, right?”

The second that’s out, Abby starts cracking up. I mean full body bent over laughing, while Jenay just rolls her eyes and shakes her head and goes, “That’s it? You like him because there’s nothing wrong with him? You like him because he has no obvious defects? Jeez Echo, that’s real romantic stuff. I mean, you’re just head over heels then, aren’t you?”

“No, I just…” I gaze back down at the ground, wondering who I’m trying to convince more, me or her. “I like him,” I finally say. “Okay? Happy now? He’s really nice, and a really good kisser too.” I peek at both of them, feeling relieved when I see Jenay smile, hoping that means she believes me.

“Then it’s settled. He can ask you to homecoming and you won’t say no?” Jenay asks, her voice full of hope. “Cause it would be really fun if we could double date, don’t you think?”

I nod at Jenay and then gaze at Abby. But she’s no longer looking at me. She’s busy staring straight ahead.