What guy comes home from a cross-country trip in the morning and attends school that day? Couldn’t he have waited one more day instead of waltzing into art class with a little yellow slip from the office? Of course, he would pick this class to show up to.
You could literally feel the room spark to life. One by one, students became aware of the “Great” Taylor Anderson’s presence. Collectively, clothes, hair, and work stations became tidy. I decided to leave mine a mess. That was until I looked down and noticed a large smear of green chalk down my arm and on the sleeve of my new white shirt. Frustrated, I stood up and headed for the sink. I was determined to not even glance Taylor’s way. This is perfect. He can sit somewhere, and I can pretend I never even knew he was here.
“Chloe,” Taylor exclaimed.
I panicked and began walking faster to the sink. “It’s nice to see the president of my fan club is finally in one of my classes.”
I could feel each and every eye as they stared at my back while I turned the faucet on and began to scrub. Why did I think ignoring him would work? Could the guy be any more conceited?
He must’ve realized he wouldn’t get a response from me, because the next thing I heard was, “Ms. Bailey, is that an empty chair at Chloe’s table?”
What? He wouldn’t dare! I jerked around and glared right at him. Too late. It was obvious from his grin that I had just given him the attention he’d been waiting for.
“I can sit there? Great, Ms. B. You’re the best!”
Is Ms. B. blushing? Is there not a female on the planet able to resist this guy?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor saunter over to our table. Whispered words of admiration came from Alyssa and Madison. The traitors. In disgust, I tried to drown them out as I turned the water on full blast. It worked, except that after five minutes of unnecessary scrubbing and loads of excess spray from the tap, not only was my sleeve soaking wet, but the whole bottom half of my shirt, too.
“Come on, Chloe, stop hiding,” Taylor said. “Come over here and welcome me properly.”
Does he have to say everything so loudly? Furious, I grabbed some paper towels and headed back to the table.
“I’m not hiding. I’m cleaning my shirt, thank you.” Still not able to meet his eyes, I wiped my shirt as I walked. A couple of seconds later I wished I had looked up, because I literally tripped on a chair two feet from our table. Nothing like falling at his feet in a heap.
Taylor chuckled as he gently helped me up. “Whoa, copper top, you’ve gotta watch where you’re going.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, brushing my curls out of the way. Just then, I realized the rest of the room was laughing at me. Of course, I had nobody to blame except myself and my silly pride, so I joined the others and laughed too.
I noticed Taylor breathed a sigh of relief when he saw my giggles. Careful, Chloe, you might start thinking he actually cares.
He surprised me further by making sure I sat down safely in my chair. Then he began to clean up the strewn paper towels I had dropped when I fell.
“You don’t have to do that, Taylor. I’ll clean it up.” I started to rise.
“What, and not have the satisfaction of seeing me on my knees in front of you?”
I knew he said it only to stun me into sitting back down. It worked, more than he realized. Remember, you can’t stand him. Act like you would to anyone else.
“Chloe, are you okay?”
I glanced over and found myself staring at Madison and Alyssa, who grinned back at me. I’d forgotten they were there! How could I forget my two best friends were right in front me?
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, I think.” I smiled back.
We couldn’t say more because Taylor walked up right then and sat on the chair next to me, smiling in an arrogant and slightly magnetic way.
“So, girls, it looks like we’re all here together. This is going to be an interesting year.” He turned to me and asked, “Don’t you think?”
I was so grateful the bell rang and saved me from having to answer him. Instantly, our table was crowded with art students vying for Taylor’s attention. It was the perfect opportunity to escape. As quickly as possible I cleaned up my spot, grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door, leaving Alyssa and Madison to fend for themselves. I’d apologize when I saw them later.
As I jogged down the crowded hallway, I nearly collided with Ethan, one of the greatest guys on the planet.
“Hey, girl! Where’s the fire?” He hung his arm around my shoulders and started to walk with me to Advanced Placement English.
“Back there,” I said. “I was trying to get as far away from it as possible.”
“Gonna scorch you bad?”
You have no idea.
“Oh, hey.” He shifted his backpack. “You still on for tonight? There’s a big group of us headin’ up to the Staircase for the opening night of the new season. They’ve all been saying how they’re gonna beat my Jeep this time. You better be there. You’re my good-luck charm.” He playfully squeezed my shoulder.
“Um, four-wheeling or studying? Gee, that’s a tough one. Of course I’ll be there. Aren’t I always there on Wednesdays?”
“Ever since you started coming it’s been so much wilder,” Ethan said. “I never knew a screaming, terrified girl would add that much excitement.”
“I’m not scared. It’s more like a roller coaster than anything.”
It was the truth, too. Ethan’s dad was not only a driving instructor, but also a professional four-wheel driver. He had taught Ethan and his brother Carson everything they knew. When you watched them, it was obvious they were good. Ethan and Carson hadn’t even been allowed to start four-wheeling until they’d passed their dad’s twelve-month course. My parents were a little apprehensive when the guys first asked me to join them on Wednesdays about a year ago. But after they met the brothers, Mom and Dad agreed to let me go as long as I only rode with Ethan or Carson. I became addicted to the exhilarating experience and had been going ever since.
“Chloe!” someone shouted from behind us.
I stopped just as we were entering the classroom and turned to see Taylor as he tried to catch up.
What is he doing? I wondered, my heart speeding up.
“Oh, so now you’ve got Anderson following you?” Ethan asked. “I’ll save you a seat inside.”
Just like that, he left. And then Taylor was right next to me—towering over me, actually. When did he get so tall? He stared at me for a few of seconds and then grinned. He’s not even winded. It’s so not fair. People had to squeeze to get past us into the classroom, and I realized we had begun to create a scene. I wondered what Taylor wanted, but I refused to be the first person to speak.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore and caved. “What do you want, Taylor?”
“You.” His eyes captured mine.
Breathe, Chloe. Calm down.
“Me, to do what?” That sounded good, surprisingly good.
“To admit you missed me the past few days.”
Hello? Is anybody here but me remembering you have a girlfriend? “You were gone? Huh, I never noticed. Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Taylor.” I was still speaking as I turned and walked through the classroom door.
“Wahoo! I can’t believe you had the guts to say that,” Madison said as we rode home from school in her car.
“I can’t believe he followed you to your English class,” Alyssa added.
“I know. It’s not like him. I can’t figure what he’s about.” I shrugged. “I mean, the guy has a girlfriend, right?”
“It just seems weird. I wonder if he was coming to tell you something else and chickened out,” Alyssa said. “Besides, there must’ve been a reason he was totally singling you out in the art room. I think he needs to ask you something but doesn’t know how.”
“What does he have to be scared of?” I wondered out loud. “No, I think he’s just being a player. He saw an opportunity to make me uneasy and went for it. Of course, this time I stood my ground.”
“Yeah, too bad you didn’t stand your ground in art.” Madison laughed, and Alyssa joined in.
“Hey, now, no fair. I was wiping my shirt.” I giggled. “It was funny. Embarrassing, but so funny.”
“Aren’t you sorry you laughed at my episode with Zack now?”
“Yes,” I answered Alyssa as she pulled up next to my house. “Well, it’s Wednesday, so I won’t be home tonight. I’ll see you girls in the morning, okay? Thanks for the lift.”
“Bye!” they said at the same time.
I shut the door and ran up the steps of my house. I turned to wave as the girls drove home, which was really only five or six houses down on the left side of the street. Alyssa and Madison lived right next door to each other. On the other side of the road was a huge neighborhood park. The chance to live across the street from the park was one of the reasons my parents bought our house.
“Hi, Mom,” I called out as I dropped my backpack on the dining room table.
“Chloe? Is that you?” she called from the back of the house.
“Yep. Where are you?” I followed the smells and wandered into the kitchen, where I saw loads of cookies on cooling racks on the counter. Shortbread cookies, my favorite. “Hey, can I have a cookie?” I hollered.
“Sure,” she answered.
Yes! I grabbed three extra-big ones.
“But only one. They’re for my meeting tonight.”
Aw, darn. Reluctantly, I put the two smallest cookies back. As I munched, I went in search of my mom.
“Here you are.” I found her in my fifteen-year-old sister’s room, holding a big, black trash bag. I watched, dumbfounded, as Mom tossed anything and everything she could find into it.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. There went Cassidy’s favorite CD and iPod.
“I’ve told Cassidy over and over to clean her room or I was going to clean it for her.” She groaned as she bent over to chuck my sister’s winning soccer cleat into the bag. “For three weeks I’ve been patient.” In went the other cleat. “So I figure now is the time to teach that girl a lesson.”
Wow. Cassidy is gonna be mad. I stifled a giggle. “So what are you going to do with the bag?”
“Put it out by the trash bins and tell her I’ve thrown it away.”
Holy cow! “You’re serious?” I wonder what my room looks like. I hope it’s clean.
“Yeah, I’m serious,” Mom said, pushing back her blond curls as she stood up. “This room is disgusting, and she’s going to start taking care of it or suffer the consequences.” I’m pretty sure my room was clean when I left this morning. Maybe a towel on the bed or something? Mental note: Check room ASAP and remove backpack from table. Mom’s gone batty again.
I’d have to be blind to not see how determined my mom was on this, so I let it go and changed the subject. No reason to get her upset at me, too.
“Well, today’s Wednesday, so I’ll be out four-wheeling later,” I reminded her. Then, deciding to stay on her good side, I asked, “Do you need me to do anything before I go?”
“You mean other than your homework and chores?” Mom grinned as she tossed Cassidy’s curling iron in the bag.
“Uh, yeah.” I wondered how much all Cassidy’s stuff was worth.
“I am not really going to throw this stuff away. I’m just putting it out by the trash to make her see how serious I am. So stop looking at me like that.” In went Cassidy’s favorite shirt and jeans.
Well, that’s a relief.
“Actually, there is something you can do for me. I need you to go and pick your sister up from her ballet class in about fifteen minutes, so I can finish this up.”
“Oh, okay.” If I started now I could get farther into that book I was reading for English. “I’m gonna do some homework before I head out.” I turned to leave.
“I almost forgot. There was a call for you right before you came home.”
“A call?” I turned back. “Who from?”
“I don’t know. It was one of your friends. I think he said—”
He? It was a he?
“You guys were in the same club or something. His name was like Tyler or Tanner or—”
“Taylor,” I interrupted. “Did he say what he wanted?” What is with this guy?
“No. He did ask for you to call him back, though. His cell number is on the kitchen counter by the phone. He sounded like it was kind of urgent.”
“Oh, it’s probably just a question about something in art class today.” I shrugged. “Thanks.” I made my escape.
He hasn’t even been home a full day, and already he has caused so much havoc to my well-being that I don’t think I’m going to be able to last an entire year. It’s ridiculous.
I wandered into the kitchen and glanced at Taylor Anderson’s phone number. This is Taylor’s number. I have his personal phone number. How many girls would kill to have this number? Briefly I thought of selling it on eBay or something. I bet I’d make a mint. Ugh. How much weirder can this day get?
Reaching over, I plucked the cordless phone out of the charger and started to press the buttons with trembling fingers.
Why does he want me to call? Does he really have something important to ask like Alyssa thinks, or is he just trying to unnerve me again? You know what, I can’t handle this. Before I could push the last digit, I hung up the phone. If he wanted to talk to me that bad, he could call again.
I collected my backpack and crammed the offending number in my pocket. Then walked in my room and attempted to breathe normally again. Looking at my watch, I saw I only had twelve minutes left. So I picked up the assigned book, crashed on my bed, and tried to lose myself and my crazy thoughts in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.