Smile for Me (A Young Adult Romance) Page 9

  “I remember, so I am going to say no.”

  “I was joking Kim—mostly. I just want to dance. My brother just stole my date, so I find myself in need of a new dance partner.” Kim sighed with the air of a martyr before nodding ‘yes’. Instead of puling her into the throng of students beneath the disco bal I tugged her in the other direction into a corner where I can imagine we had some privacy. It isn’t as good as holding her on Steve’s balcony, or during out stage kisses, or even as good as helping her with plastic toy armor at The Fun Factory. Now I know that any moment Paul is going to walk back in and take her away from me. I know that this isn’t a beginning for us—it is just a moment that means more to me than it ever wil to her. This thought almost makes me walk away. But her dress is like nothing between my hand and her waist and while her hair is stil braided her one exposed bare shoulder has me hypnotized.

  “Maybe you can tel me why?” I have to say something even though I doubt there is anything she can say that wil make this better.

  “Why what, Marshal?” She sighs and acts like she’s tired of this conversation already—after only half a second of talking.

  “Why you are with him? Why he is better for you.” I want to add ‘than me’, but a guy has to have some pride. I wil admit that I don’t have much where Kim is concerned, but there are stil a few remaining shreds. “Is it realy because he is so dependable?” I say the word with al the same inflection as one might use while describing brussels sprouts, or spinach, or anything else that tastes awful but we eat because it is good for us. “Is it because he wouldn’t hurt you? He isn’t alone in that category Kim.” I barely resist adding that I am in that category. That I would cut off my arm before I hurt her.

  “I didn’t say wouldn’t, I said couldn’t.” Kim is doing that damn other conversation thing again. She doesn’t wait for me to catch up to her train of thought though. She just turns around and walks out.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I said ‘Don’t you love me?’”

  For a split second I am confused. I almost grab her and admitted that yes, I thought I could very easily fal in love with her. And just in time I realize that she is waving her script at me, and waiting for Benny to answer Trish’s question.

  “No. Of course not—wel not much.”

  For the first time in my life I am looking forward to the end of a production before opening night. We are sitting on the edge of the stage in the otherwise empty school auditorium on a Thursday night. Tomorrow we wil have our opening show. Three shows this weekend and three shows next weekend and then it wil be over.

  I can’t wait. Except that, however mixed up I am right now about my nonrelationship with Kim, I don’t realy think I am ready to give up seeing her every day. I mean and having her know I see her—not just waking up at butt o’clock each morning to watch her leave her house.

  “You look tired.” Kim is packing up her book bag—I guess it is time to go. “I have realy appreciated this Marshal. I couldn’t have gotten through the last several weeks without your help.”

  I don’t know why she says stuff like that to me. It would be easier if I could just go back to thinking she is super hot but rude and annoying. “Not a problem Kim.” We pick up our bags and walk quietly out to the parking lot.

  They say a bad dress rehearsal is a sign of an excelent opening night. I realy hope that is true because this has been the worst dress rehearsal of my life. Kim looks fabulous in Trish’s dress. It isn’t short but whatever it’s made of molds to her legs with every step she takes. I’ve mentioned her great legs, right? Wel, that wouldn’t be so bad, but Kim’s hair has been loose al afternoon. And I completely underestimated how pretty that would be. I forgot six lines just during the scene where she is supposed to be laughing and gossiping in the background. Do you know how much hair flipping is involved in laughing and gossiping?

  Things have been … strained between us since the Fal Formal. I looked for her after she left me alone in the gym, but she must have already left school by then. I almost caled her on Sunday. But I didn’t know what to say and anyway Paul might have stil been around. Al we ever talk about these days is this stupid play. She hasn’t put her homework away during lunch at al this week. Although with al the extra practicing I have to admit that I’ve been catching up on my assignments at lunch too.

  “Are you nervous?” Kim asks me as we reach her car.

  “Are you asking me if I’m nervous?” The very idea is so funny I am laughing at her, but she doesn’t get mad—actualy she is laughing too.

  “I guess that means that you aren’t planning on throwing up tomorrow.” She jokes.

  “Nope. I wil be staying miraculously vomit free. But don’t worry, Kim. You can throw up al you want just so long as you are done before curtain cal.” She rols her eyes at me, but she doesn’t try to deny the possibility.

  The air is cold and I am sure that she wants to get into her car, but I have this heavy feeling in my chest. Tomorrow is opening night. In another week al my excuses for being Kim’s friend wil be out the window. It feels like that moment on jeopardy when the song speeds up and you have to say something even if you have no idea what the right answer is.

  “You look pretty tonight, Kim.” Oh my god! Who says that? I am twelve years old again trying to get Amy Miler to sit with me at lunch time. “What I mean is that I like when you wear your hair down. You should wear it like this more often.” My hand reaches out al on its own to twist a few of the shiny strands around my fingers. It feels like silk.

  “It gets in the way. Especialy at school—I can’t take notes if my hair is always faling across the page.”

  “How very practical.” I tease her a little, and take a step closer.

  “Good night, Marshal.” She escapes into her car, and my moment is gone.

  ***

  “Has anyone seen Kim? Where is Trish? We need her makeup done 15 minutes ago!” Patterson is freaking out. That is just so very professional of him.

  It isn’t difficult for me to find her. There are only two bathrooms anywhere near the auditorium. She is in the further one. “Kim?” I cal out.

  “You do know what ladies’ room means right? Men are generaly prohibited.” She is mumbling from the handicapped stal at the far end where I can see her feet and legs sticking out in a familiar fashion.

  “Wel, you know me. I am a regular rebel.” I slip into the stal next to her. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Oh sure. In about three hours.”

  “The play is only 100 minutes long.”

  “I know. I am adding in time for residual humiliation.”

  I have to laugh. She realy can be funny when she isn’t busy stomping al over my feelings. “Have I ever told you that I am a little bit psychic?” I reach out to help her to her feet and then to the sink to wash up.

  “Psychic?” She looks at me doubtfuly in the mirror.

  “Oh, yeah sure. I can totaly see the future.” She raises her eyebrows at me, clearly waiting for me to make my point.

  I reach in my pocket and hand her a little box of mints. “They’re sugar free.” I say when she reaches for them. “You want to know what I foresee for this evening?” I continue when she pops a couple into her mouth and we start to walk down the hal back towards the auditorium. “A smash. A complete success. We are talking standing ovations here. And it wil be ninety percent because of you and that incredible voice.”

  “Only ninety percent?”

  “Wel I do have to save something for my own ego you know.”

  I’m right. It is a smash and we do get that standing ovation. Of course most high school production do. Family members tend to be fairly easy critics. Kim nailed every line, every mark, and of course every song. Even our cheesy stage kiss got a big ‘ aaww!!!’ from the audience. In the aftermath while everyone is celebrating with high fives and embarrassing family hugs I am too high on adrenaline to care about the last week. Dave and the guys are al waiting to hit Slices for celebratory p
izza and I am looking for Kim. She should come too—she deserves it.

  “Kim!” I have to run to catch her in the parking lot. She’s alone. No parents, friends, not even Captain Toast. “Where are you going?” She just stares at me, so I keep talking. “Everyone is going to Slices. Wil you meet us there?”

  “I don’t think so Marshal. I’m tired. I am just going to go home.”

  “Don’t be like that Kim. You should come celebrate with us. You worked harder than anybody.”

  “I thought we established that I am not realy a partier.”

  “Agree to disagree. As it happens, I thought that party at Steve’s house was pretty awesome.” No answer, just a little wave of her hand before she drives away. It is a good thing pizza is just as good for walowing as it is for celebrating.

  “Couldn’t talk The Professor into joining us, huh?” Dave guesses once we’ve pushed a bunch of the smaler tables together along the back wal at the restaurant.

  “She was too tired.” Her excuse sounds even lamer as I repeat it. Dave has been teling me for two years that I am crazy. That she isn’t interested and I should move on. “I am starting to think you might be right, Dave—she isn’t interested in me.”

  “Huh. And I was just starting to think that she was. Go figure.”

  ***

  I checked the audience carefuly the rest of the weekend. I never did see Mr. or Mrs. Penney, or Paul. My mom and dad were in the front row every night, and Jason and Mandy were there two out of the three.

  With the first weekend of performances behind us there is a lot less tension in rehearsals this week. We are going to do two more shows this weekend before we wrap it up, but last weekend’s success has us al feeling pretty confident. As a matter of fact as a reward for al our dedicated work Patterson is giving us this afternoon off from practices. Miss Channing would never cancel rehearsals two days before a performance.

  “So what are you planning to do with your afternoon off?” Kim fals into step beside me in the hal after history class. Just as she would any other day when we were headed towards the auditorium.

  “Not much. I feel a need to veg.”

  “Veg?”

  I look at her with wide eyes and a big grin. “Realy, you haven’t heard the term ‘veg out’?”

  “Oh. Sure.” I can tel by the way she answers that she is lying.

  “I mean I am going to go home and relax. Eat some popcorn, maybe watch a movie if Jason and Mandy aren’t making out on the couch… blech!” My sound effect makes Kim giggle. It is a nice normal girlie sound and I like hearing it from her.

  “Are you okay, with that?”

  “With watching a movie? Duh—it was my idea.”

  “No. I meant about your brother and Mandy.” Kim is roling her eyes at me. Like it is my fault she changes conversation topics at the speed of light.

  “Oh. Sure—I told you before Mandy and I are just friends. I don’t like her that way.” Kim is coming dangerously close to the types of conversations that lately have been making her turn tail and run off on me. “So, how about you? Big Wednesday night plans?”

  “Not realy.”

  “Good. You can watch a movie with me.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Too late. It is already settled. My family room—4:00 Kim Penney. Don’t be late.” I walk away quickly so she can’t think of any excuses.

  I can’t decide what dvd to put in. I stopped at one of those vending machines on the way home and rented three different movies. Then I sent Jason and Mandy down the street to her house for their daily dental exams. Those two are realy starting to get on my nerves. I think I preferred the Popeye debate. Jason is fifteen and his love life is head and shoulders above mine right now. Lame.

  “It’s four o’clock.” Turning around, I find Kim standing in the middle of my family room looking like she is going to her own execution.

  She certainly helps keep my ego in check. I have the sudden urge to start flexing my muscles and maybe start striking strong man poses. You know—prove to her that there is a reason for Claire Haines to folow me around the hals the way she does.

  “Just in time, Kim. You can pick the dvd.” I wave my hand over the coffee table where I’ve stacked the dvds next to a big bowl of popcorn and a plate filed with some carrots and crackers.

  Her eyes went to my snack choices instead of the movies. “Hungry?”

  “It is traditional to eat popcorn with a film. You can have that, right? I googled it, but the carrots and crackers also seemed like a safe bet.”

  “You googled popcorn?” She looks incredulous.

  “Wel, I googled diabetes, but there are a couple different types and I didn’t know enough. Popcorn was on both lists.” A smirk (so close to a smile) and a little laugh are my reward for spending 40 minutes on my laptop cross referencing our meager kitchen contents with medical websites. Totaly worth it. “Popcorn is fine, Marshal. Here we can watch this one.” She didn’t even look at the titles before selecting the top one handing it over.

  A chick flick. That’s fine, though. I am secure enough in my man-ness to spend the afternoon with Hugh Grant. I put the movie in, draw the drapes, and shut off the over head light—just to reduce glare. Then I join Kim on the couch. I fil one smal plastic bowl to the top with popcorn and then start scooping some into a second bowl with a measuring cup.

  “Umm… what are you doing?” Kim is looking at me weird. Maybe I gave her too much?

  “The internet said three cups. Is that too much? Not enough?”

  “You are measuring my afterschool snack?”

  “google said…” !!! Why do I suddenly feel like an idiot?”

  “It’s fine, Marshal. Three cups is fine. I just don’t need to be quite as fussy about it as your research seems to suggest.” I hand her the bowl of measured popcorn and a bottle of water, press play on the remote, and settle back with one arm on the back of the couch behind her ready to drop around her at the slightest hint of approval.

  “She would never fal for that in real life!”

  “What happened to being a more empowered woman?”

  “I like him way more than the other guy.”

  “What exactly is a pratt anyway?”

  Kim talks through the whole first half of the movie. It is a little annoying, but not as bad as you might think. “Do you always during movies, or do you want to pick something else.”

  She cringes a little. “Sorry. I told you, I don’t usualy watch TV. How much longer is this?”

  “Are you bored?” I am not insulted. I am not insulted. I am not insulted.

  “No. But, I don’t know wouldn’t you rather be doing something?”

  Thoughts of al the things I would rather be doing with Kim on a couch in our dark family room rol around in my brain. Automaticaly I drop that arm down around her shoulders and stretch out my other arm to brace myself on the edge of the couch behind her. Leaning forward I bring my face close to hers. “I would actualy, Kim. I would rather be doing something.”

  “Th—that’s not exactly what I meant”

  “Why do you look so scared? Don’t I kiss as wel as Paul?” I smile so she wil think I am teasing.

  She actualy looks surprised. “I’m sure you do.”

  “Don’t you remember? I would be very happy to give you another demonstration.”

  “Oh. I remember.” She sounds al breathless and nervous. I love it. “It’s just me. You know. I’m not very good at…” I am so shocked that I sit back up. She thinks she isn’t a good kisser? Does she not remember Steve’s party? “Why do you think that?” Her face turns cherry red and she looks down at her hands. “It’s fine. Paul explained it to me—I am too uptight.” Al reason and caution desert me. I reach out and pul Kim to me before I can talk myself out of it. There is no hesitation this time. Her arms reach for me just as hungrily as my own. I have enough time to notice that she tastes a little like popcorn and then I am lost in the Kim-Penney-Fog again. Nothing else around us ex
ists except for her insistent lips pressing into my own, her sweet tongue darting into my mouth, her fingers lightly digging into my biceps, and her hair beneath my own fingers. I tug the twister out and it lands somewhere on the floor. My fingers are struggling to loosen the braid and then I am dragging my fingers through her soft silky hair.

  “Helo?” Jason’s voice booms from the kitchen doorway. Kim freezes up.

  “No.” I whisper against her ear. “Please, don’t pul away.”

  “Good bye, Jase!” I holer towards the door.

  “Oh! Right, I’m going back to Mandy’s. I’l be gone a long time. Probably stay for dinner. Maybe dessert!” The door slams loudly as he leaves.

  “Don’t pul away from me, Kim. I am stil whispering in her ear. I want to hang on the intimacy of five seconds ago. “You are amazing. In a lot of ways, but definitely at kissing. You make me forget how to breathe.

  “You realy don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “I do. I didn’t need a second demonstration to know how great it would be. We would be like fire together, Kim.”

  “Fire? That doesn’t sound good.” She hops off the couch and runs out the door before I can choose an alternate metaphor.

  Needless to say—the rest of my day totaly sucked. Actualy the rest of the week sucked. Kim is crazy good at forgetting the best moments of my life. She greeted me normaly each morning, and we stil walked together to rehearsals together. Everything was perfect, except for the part where she didn’t want to be with me. And I didn’t get that either—she definitely responded to me. No matter how much indifference she was striving for in school I wasn’t going to forget that kiss, or how very two sided it was.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Sunday show is a matinee. We are done al the clean up before 7:00, and there is a big cast party at one of the student’s houses. This weekend went just as wel as last. I am a little sorry now that I ever doubted Patterson.

  Dave and I are playing a game of lazy game of slap jack on the floor in a corner of the party while we discuss the play, and how glad we are that it’s over, and how we can’t wait to see what the spring production wil be.