Chapter Twelve
Jared
Mark. Mark? She thinks all my love-grams have been from Mark? What the hell! That’s the reason they’ve all ended up in the trash.
I stop at the office after lunch with plans to set Juliet straight once and for all. I enter the office with a purpose but quickly come to a halt at the sight of Rachel Little. Son of a bitch. Can’t a guy catch a break?
Rachel bats her eyes as soon as she spots me. “Jared! Are you in here to buy me a love-gram?” She twirls a piece of her hair and winks.
I rub the back of my neck and refuse to answer. Mrs. Appleton, our school’s secretary who also reminds me of my grandma because she may be sweet, but she doesn’t take shit from anyone, says, “Mr. Black, come on over.”
I’ve been in here enough times, buying Juliet’s love-grams that she knows what I’m in here for. I think this is most she or anyone in here has seen me. I hope she doesn’t tell my dad.
I step over to Mrs. Appleton’s desk and she asks, “How many?”
“Just one strawberry lollipop, please.” I use my best manners because I’m sure if I didn’t she might slap me with a ruler or something. And if my dad ever did waltz in here and heard me not use the words please or thank you he’d punish me with drills or weights. My body is sore enough from the bullshit I’ve already been doing. Warriors sleep when they’re dead. Another astounding phrase my dad likes to use often.
Mrs. Appleton hands over the card for the love-gram and I get to writing after I hand her the cash. When I’m leaving, Rachel says, “I can’t wait to read what you wrote to me.”
You’re going to be waiting a long time.
During our next class, I watch Juliet’s face turn crimson at the call of her name. Her fingers flex, forming tight balls, I can literally see the whites of her knuckles. I hope to hell this works, or I’m out of options.
I nervously chew on my pen cap as I watch her. She looks puzzled as she mouths the words, “I’m not Mark.”
She finally shifts in her seat and studies me for a second. “Please tell him it’s not funny. I do not know what kind of game he’s playing but it needs to stop.”
“Um … that says it’s not from Mark,” I say pointing at the card that’s sitting on her desk.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah because he knows I’m on to him. Seriously, please tell him to quit.”
“What if it’s really not from Mark?”
She narrows her eyes. “Then they need to quit too. I hate these things.”
Shit. Well, screw me. How the heck am I going to win this girl over now? Dammit. I’m literally going to have to resort to asking other people for help on this. I don’t want to do that because I don’t want anyone else in my business. I certainly don’t need them judging me for not being able to get this girl on my own.
Juliet has already shifted in her seat and is back to working on the study guide for history. I can’t let this be it though. I won’t. “What do you like then?”
Her head lifts and then she blinks at me. “Why do you want to know?”
“Curious.”
She rolls her green eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
“Whatever.” Well, now what?
“I’m not stupid. You’re only talking to me because he asked you to. Don’t even try denying it. So you can report back to your stupid friend that I don’t like these types of games.”
“Whoa. Calm down.” She thinks I’m asking for that tool?
Juliet shouts, “I will not calm down. How would you like it if someone you were dating made out with someone else in front of the entire school? You wouldn’t. No one would. Now, how would you like seeing that same person making out with your ex and then getting these twisted things from them? Huh? You wouldn’t. You’d be just as pissed off as I am right this second.” She flings the card at me along with the sucker.
Tears gather at her lashes, and all I want to do is hold her and tell her it’s me. I want to tell her that I have wanted to ask her out since forever. But, I screwed up every time I got the nerve. In eighth grade, I dropped my lunch in her lap instead of setting it on the table. In ninth grade, I threw up on her shoes. I blame food poisoning for that. In tenth grade, I head-butted her, and she wound up with a concussion. This year, on the first day of school, my pop exploded on her.
This is supposed to be my chance. But here I am screwing it all up making this girl cry. The shitty part is, I’ve got no idea how to fix it. Maybe I should swallow the remaining pride I have left and just call it quits.
“Mr. Black. Miss Valentine. Is there a reason for the sudden outburst in class?” Mr. Olsen says.
I don’t wait for her to answer. “It was my fault. I was teasing her about something. I’m sorry. Really, I truly am.” I say to her.
She’s not looking at me. I watch her shoulders quiver as she sniffles.
“Mr. Black we’re going to take a trip down to the office. Gather your things.”
I nod then gather up my things before exiting the room. This sucks. It’s not even about the ass chewing I’m going to get from my dad in about three point five seconds after I enter the main office. It’s the fact that my notes made Juliet cry. Sure, she thinks they’re from Mark but it’s my fault. I should have signed the damn things. I’m not cut out for this playing Cupid shit!
Making my way to the main office, I spot Juliet’s friend Chase. That’s it! He’s my freaking golden ticket, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take it.
I take a detour from the office doors and follow Chase. He’s about halfway down an empty hall before he turns around. He gives me a singular nod. “What’s up, Jared?” he continues walking toward the stairwell.
“Hey, Chase. Um … what are you up to?”
“Heading back to class,” he says it like its completely obvious. “Don’t you have History right now?” I almost ask him how the hell he knows what class I have but remember that he more than likely knows Juliet’s schedule.
“Yeah but I’m going to the office for something.”
He gives me a confused look as we continue walking down the hall.
“Aren’t you going the wrong way then?”
I place my arm out to stop him from walking any farther. “Yeah. Um. Listen, you and Juliet Valentine hang out, right?”
He scowls at me. “Why do you want to know about Juliet?”
I clench my jaw after hearing the edge in his voice. “Are you into her?” I ask.
“No. We’re … Why do you care?”
I don’t say anything. He folds his arms and shakes his head. “Don’t Jared! I mean it. I know you could kick my ass, but I’ll find ways to hurt you. Leave her alone!”
“I’m not going to hurt her.” Although that’s sort of a lie since I did cause her a lot of pain a few minutes ago. Unintentionally. I’ll never do anything like what that dipshit Mark did to her.
“Yeah. Like your buddy Mark wasn’t going to. I’m not falling for this shit again. No. the answer is no. Stay the hell away from Juliet.”
Mark? Aw, freaking hell! He weaseled his way into Juliet’s life by going through Chase. Damn. Now, Chase probably figures Mark’ll do everything to sabotage my chances with her. I put up my hands. “Okay. I’ll back off,” I lie. I have no intention of backing off. I’m going to win Juliet. Just not with his help.
Sitting in the office I spaced out a lot during my dad’s rage session of the year. Sometimes I have this amazing ability to just tune him out. Whatever he says goes in one ear and out the other. I nod when I’m supposed to but don’t retain a darn thing. If someone asks me to repeat any of this to save the world or whatever, I’m sorry we’d all be screwed.
He screams, causing veins to bulge out of his neck. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know that harassing a student, a female student at that can jeopardize all hope for a scholarship? No one wants that. It’s a liability!”
He’s taking this way out of proportion and he sounds like a total jackass right now. But I’m not going to tell him this. So instead I just say, “I’m sorry sir. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t! Or I’ll have you doing laps until you pass out, and I won’t get your truck fixed.”
I nod. He basically has me by the balls. I need my truck back. The bell rings and I stand up. My dad scorns me with a look. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Sit your ass back down. I’m not done talking to you.”
I want to roll my eyes. I want to groan. But when my dad says sit, I better obey or else. He’s harsh on others, believe me. I’m his kid though and so most lines well, they can get crossed when it comes to me. One time he was pissed off at something I did so he made me walk home in all my pads. It was eighty degrees out but with my full gear on it felt like one hundred and two.
My dad stares me down, probably going to blow another gasket about something, but I’m saved by a knock. “Come in!” he yells.
The door opens and just my luck Chase walks in. “Hey coach, you got a minute?”
“Yeah, have a seat. Jared, we’ll talk about this later.”
I owe Chase. He really has no idea. Doesn’t mean I’m giving in to his request to back off Juliet. I slink out the door and make my way to my next class.
As I’m barreling down the hall I spot her, and Adaline hunched together. “I’m telling you, Juliet, those aren’t from Mark. I was in the office all last period he didn’t buy them.” I overhear Adaline tell her.
“Well, maybe he’s having one of the freshmen doing his bidding,” Juliet says.
“Nope. I’m telling you I think it’s someone else. Someone who really likes you.”
Damn. Did Adaline see me? I hope the hell not. I didn’t see her. And if Juliet finds out it’s me now this will all be a total waste. The girl clearly hates my guts. I have to win her over. The love- grams might annoy her now but I want her to eventually look forward to them.
“I don’t care. These things need to stop,” Juliet says.
Not going to happen.
I reluctantly weave past her and enter our next class advance computers. I couldn’t stand outside the class and wait for her like a freaking creeper.
Taking my seat near the row of computers by the air conditioning vents, I turn on my machine and wait for the ancient thing to load. My grandma who’s ninety and uses a walker moves faster than this thing can reboot.
I notice the class is filling up, but it doesn’t look like she’s in here yet. I look back at the screen and huff. “Come on, already!”
Her citrus scent hits me like a ton of bricks. I turn to Juliet. “Hey,” I start. “Sorry about earlier. I really am.”
She looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “It’s whatever. There were no more seats.”
I scan the room and spot a few seats open. Hmm, interesting. “You sure about that? I think you just wanted to sit next to me.” I wink at her.
“My what high hopes you have, but see I don’t want to sit by Brad over there who smells really bad. I don’t think he knows what deodorant is, or maybe his family belongs to some freakish cult. And they firmly believe deodorant is like some huge government conspiracy.”
“Yes, body odor preventing products is a huge conspiracy.”
She laughs and nods. “Very much. But you don’t smell foul, so you must be in on it.”
“Smelling nice? I totally am.” I shouldn’t be happy that she noticed this but I am. It’s a small start in the right direction.
“Yeah … well, then you have Audrey over there. Not sure what her deal is but she has a habit of mumbling crazy shit to herself. Plus, she watches too many cat videos.”
“I’m a dog person.”
She smiles. “Me too. So as long as your friend doesn’t send me any candy grams or whatever in this class we should be fine.”
I nod. “Should be.” There is a loud beep that interrupts me for a moment. I glance at my screen and finally, the freaking thing is on the homepage. “These things take forever.”
“I know. They don’t care though. The new computers are coming next year,” she says.
Her computer loads up in time for Mrs. Hawk to tell us we need to type a resume.
“This is going to be a pain,” I say.
“Why? You don’t seem like the type who is lacking in any life skills.”
I snort. “Well, I really am. Football takes up most of my life. What can I do about that? Yes; I can maneuver out of tackles quite successfully.”
I can see her out of the corner of my eye shifting toward me. “I wouldn’t really know. I’ve been to a total of two football games.”
“You should come to more.”
“I’d rather not.” She clicks her mouse a few times then says, “You go to parties on the weekends. I mean, at least, I’ve seen you at the one I attended.”
I pretend to look around then lean in close to her. “Don’t repeat this, but I’m not as popular as everyone makes me out to be.”
She draws back and says, “What do you mean?”
I return to my position. “I’ve been to a total of four. Not that I don’t want to go to more. I can’t.” Why the hell am I telling her this? This is not going to score me any points. I do not want her feeling sorry for me. Just shut up. Shut the hell up now.
She shifts back to her computer. “Oh.”
“Yeah. So, about those love-grams. If you got one why would you be mad?”
“I already told you I hate them. I hate what they represent. It’s some sick way for people to play Cupid. The fact that almost all of the Junior Elites thought that having a fundraiser revolve around the dumbest holiday of the year is sad. It makes every girl in here look like a bunch of sappy lunatics. ‘Oh, he got me a rose he totes hearts me forever.’” She pretends to barf. “They sound as ridiculous and pathetic as my mom’s clients.”
“But you used to believe in love,” I mutter.
“Says who?”