Chapter Twenty-Nine
Juliet
I love his intense eyes and hate them at the same time. How can someone see you so clearly but be blind to how you’re feeling? Especially when it’s about them? Jared Black makes my heart go crazy, but I’ve got to stop this madness. He may have called me baby. He may have kissed my forehead. But the facts remain he’s possibly with Kimber and he purposely switched seats to get away from me.
That should be a clue right there that sending out those candy-grams to him was a dumb idea. No matter what Chase says.
“Why are you frowning?” Chase asks.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
I turn to him. “I don’t think this is going to work. He’s got a girlfriend. Sure, she’s a vapid human being and as shallow as they come but he’s dating her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Of course, I’m sure about that. He was at our practice last night. And they sat at lunch together. A fair conclusion to all those signs would be he’s dating her.” I don’t mention that he called me baby or kissed my forehead. Those butterfly kisses we’re most likely a figment of my imagination.
Chase shoots a glare to the ceiling and then down to his desk.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. I’m not saying a word. You’ll just end up punching me.”
“I would …” I almost finish with ‘not’ but that’s a lie. If he said I was being absolutely nuts, I’d definitely slug him in his arm.
Our history teacher Mr. Olsen enters the room. He picks up his pointer and starts tapping the side of his desk. This is his way of getting our attention and quieting down the class. The whispers die down to complete silence.
“I wanted to make an important announcement about your upcoming exam. Every year I give the classroom a choice. You may either have a partly open book exam for all the test except the end of the year exam, or you may have a completely open book exam for the end of the year exam only. Choose wisely.” He hands out stacks of papers to the entire front rows in the room.
Once the sheet lands on my desk I groan. I hate choices like this. We have to mark down our decision. I don’t like this because I know what I would prefer. But I’m sure most of my class will not choose this. I glance over at Chase. He already has his paper flipped over which means he already marked an answer.
Another reason I dislike these type of choices, sometimes it comes down to the wire of one vote being the deciding factor. Then half the class is either mad or glad. At least he gave us a paper system. Some teachers single you out for an answer so then everyone can either have hateful eyes on you or joyous ones.
I squeeze my eyes and move my pencil up and down. “Inny. Menny. Minny. Moe.” Yes, I’ve come to this as my decision maker. Too bad this doesn’t work with boys to like and not.
I refuse to be around or glance in Jared’s direction for the rest of the day. It’s the only way to keep myself in check and save myself from heartache. My thoughts, however, seem to stray in an opposite way. One minute I’m at practice focusing on the drill at hand the next I’m thinking about someone’s gently kissing my cheek.
Sadie drives an elbow into my side and steals the ball from me for a second time today. Coach Harper blows his whistle. “Valentine! Are you with us today? I know you saw her coming, yet you charged forward instead of weaving or passing. Get it together!”
Exactly Juliet, get it together!
The next couple plays I execute better. The rest of practice goes by quick enough. Once it’s over I leave without showering to make sure that I don’t see Kimber showering her affections on Jared.
I coast through the halls and slam into the doors leading to the parking lot. As soon as I slip into my Jeep, I head home.
I step into my house that is usually my sanctuary, today it will not be. My mom and our neighbor Miss Swartz are in our living room. Miss Swartz is bawling. “I just don’t understand. We should have been perfect together. I mean we talked about what happened with our exes. He said mine sounded like a jerk breaking up with someone over text.”
“Oh, Cynthia, he’s right, but you also can’t bring up all this on a first date. Reminiscing or mentioning what went wrong in your last relationship is not good conversations pieces anyway let alone on a date.”
Miss Swartz sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “Do you think that’s why he isn’t calling me now?”
I’m not all that experienced in the dating scene but even I can tell you that’s definitely why that guy isn’t calling her back. He probably thinks she still wants her ex. I try slinking away undetected.
Miss Swartz choking sobs reaches me before I can retreat up the stairs. “Oh, my, your daughters have gotten so big, Angela. I want to have that someday.”
“I know. Juliet, please start dinner for me.” my mom says. It’s not that I don’t mind cooking but what if I had a date? She just always assumes I have no life and again, okay, as of right this instant I don’t. Still, the assumption annoys me.
I simply roll my eyes and stalk off to the kitchen. I have no right to be angry with my mom but her job blows. Yes, it provides all the essential things we need. But her clients are time sucking leeches. My mom is not a therapist, but lord do a lot of people treat her like one.
Take Miss Swartz in our living room. She’s dated a lot. She will probably never be married. My mom tries to find her perfect matches but even I can tell that woman has no perfect match. She destroys dates right from the jump, and then sobs to my mom for hours about how she thought, “He was her soulmate”. Meanwhile, she’s slapped this title on half of the population from here to three towns over.
Yet my mom consistently tries and tries because she firmly believes Miss. Swartz’s, Mister Right is out there somewhere. I just want to be real with my mom and tell her, yeah, he is, but he’s not on Earth.
I grab the pots and pans out from the cupboard while muttering my disgusting opinions about Miss Swartz incessant babbling. “He doesn’t like you because you’re ridiculous. Everyone knows that,” I mumble.
“Please tell me you aren’t talking to yourself in here,” my sister says startling me from my task.
I turn and of course, she isn’t alone. Tyler is chuckling. My cheeks flame with embarrassment. He takes a step toward the fridge. My sister observes me with a raised brow.
“I am not talking to myself,” I say.
“Sounded like you were,” Tyler replies. “What are we cooking today?”
“Um …”
My sister pleads. “Let him help. He’s been begging to make dinner all week.”
Tyler shrugs. “I like cooking. My parents like to eat out. I tend to make way more than I can eat.”
“All right. I hope Miss Swartz isn’t staying,” I answer.
“Oh, no. Is she here?” Layla asks.
I nod.
“I take it you two aren’t a fan,” Tyler states.
“No. She’s always up in our business. She constantly begs my mom to find her dates. And don’t get me started on that stupid cat of hers who craps in our driveway all the time,” Layla grumbles.
“Would you like me to kitty proof your driveway, babe,” Tyler asks in a syrupy sweet voice to my sister.
“Deal. If you can stop that cat from using our driveway as a litter box you can totally help cook dinner,” I answer for her. I’m sick of stepping around cat poop.
Tyler shakes his head. “I didn’t know you were my babe, Juliet. But hey, I hear twins are double the trouble.” He winks at me.
Layla throws an elbow in his side. “Do not even think about it.”
“I’m kidding,” he says as he pecks my sister on the lips. “So, sis, what are we making?”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “Ugh. Don’t call me that.” I throw some shrimp, cabbage, carrots, green beans, and peppers on the countertop. “Stir fry?” I say.
“Hmmm … I’ve got a better idea. Ever have drunken noodles before?” Tyler questions.
“Uh, no. We don’t have alcohol anyway,” I say.
He chuckles again. “Oh Juliet, you really are a hoot. It’s not named that because you’ll physically get drunk eating it. It’s just called it. There’s not alcohol in it.”
Layla smiles. “Sounds delish. I am going to go work on my newest routine for basketball. You two play nice in here.” She kisses Tyler and then races out of the kitchen leaving just Tyler and me.
He points to the veggies and tells me we’re going to wash and dice. While we are doing that, he asks, “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s me. I know you think just because I’m friends with an idiot whose name will remain unsaid, but I won’t say anything to them. If you want to talk about them go ahead.”
I glower at him. “There is nothing to really say. Jared and I started out working together in a few classes as partners. Sure, it had a rocky start, but I thought we were … I don’t know becoming a good team. Then out of nowhere, he tells me he’s going to request new partners. Suddenly he alienated me from his life and now he’s dating Kimber. There’s nothing more to say.” I roll my eyes. “Actually, there is. I hope he’s happy. Even if it’s with a ditzy girl. He clearly could do way better.”
Tyler is about to say something, but I cut him off. “Then there is your friend Mark who I regret dating. Every time someone mentions our relationship, I think how ridiculous I was. I was like every other girl in that school fawning over him. He’s a moron.”
He nods. “Yeah, he is. Jared however, I still don’t make sense of that one. Sorry kid.”
I blink back some silly tears that suddenly form. “It doesn’t matter.”
He turns me toward him. “Listen to me, Jared will get his head out of his ass.”
I shrug out of his grip. “It doesn’t matter because I don’t want him anyway.”