It doesn’t surprise me that he’s surrounded by a mob when I used to think he was such a loner. He’s walked me to every class today. Just showing up randomly, waiting in the halls for me after the bell. By fourth period, the twenty Facebook friends makes sense, and so does his unexpected popularity.
He’s cool to everyone, and everyone likes him. He’s class valedictorian—that one was a fucking shocker—but a loner by choice, above the standard high school bullshit politics, and people like him anyway.
I set my shake and fries on the table, then slip down on the bench the way Bobby is sitting. He’s straddling it and his arm comes around me, easing me back against his chest.
I fiddle with a ketchup packet, fight to look casual about this public display of whatever—which is hard because everyone at the table is watching us and only pretending not to—and I struggle to find my way into the current conversation.
Zoe turns her head to face me.
She gives me the look, the girl-chat look, and leans in to me in a way that tells me I need to ease toward her so she can whisper.
I don’t want to.
I can tell Zoe isn’t going to be the least bit stealthy about this.
“I’ll always have your back, too, Kaley,” she whispers into my ear. “If you ever need me to. Which I don’t think you will. Because you’ve landed the most popular guy on campus in two days by being a total bitch. God, you are my idol.”
CHAPTER 8
One month later…
My phone vibrates.
I carefully move it to my lap and open the text. I angle my body in the seat to read it.
Bobby: Lunch?
Me: Yep.
Bobby: On campus or off?
Me: Off. Meet me at your car.
I feel a heavy stare on me and tuck my phone into the fabric of my skirt.
“You’re supposed to be writing in your senior journal, Miss Stanton. Put away the phone or I’ll take it.”
I look up to smile at Mr. Wyatt. I grab my pen and nod.
After a moment, the teacher slouches in his chair and buries his nose back in his book.
I lay my head on my desk, using my arm as a pillow, and stare at the blank page in front of me. I haven’t written very much in it since Bobby and I became a couple.
I scrunch up my lips, moving them side to side, as I contemplate what I want to write. I’m trying to think a lot of stuff through right now, but I just don’t know if I want to write about it…
It’s kind of nice having a boyfriend. Never expected that one since before Bobby the hard and fast rule was ‘stay clear of all guys.’ I was wrong about that one. You don’t have to stay clear of the good guys, though it does kick up a lot of high school drama that I so wasn’t expecting.
Bobby and I have been pretty much inseparable since that morning in my car when he first kissed me. Why does everyone on campus watch us so much? Crap, the kids watch everything here, and make so much more of what they see than they should. It’s not like we’re such an interesting couple to watch. We don’t walk around all goo-goo-eyed like the other couples at school. He kisses me but we don’t suck face in the hallways like the gross couples do. I would find us boring to watch.
It’s been pretty freaking wonderful being Bobby Rowan’s girlfriend. I kind of feel like I fit in here now. He takes me everywhere with him. I am not completely able to insulate myself from my changing emotions or my slowly changing opinion on guys. Probably because Bobby is a really good guy who I’ve grown to respect. He said he wasn’t into games and drama and he isn’t. He calls when he says he’s going to, he texts me all through the day, he is never critical or controlling with me in front of others the way some of the jerks here are with their girlfriends—like that makes them so alpha male…not!—and I can always depend on him. He is more intelligent, more thought-provoking and just plain more nice than any of the other hot guys on campus.
He always treats me with respect. I wouldn’t put up with anything less, even if it is starting to wear on me because I’m really getting tired of him maintaining the balance of that in-between thing—really hot for each other but not fucking. Oh, we’ve done a lot of stuff physically, but not that. For a month he hasn’t even tried to get across that line with me.
What’s up with that? I find it frustrating and it definitely is keeping me off-balance since he never actively urges me toward going all the way.
So frustrating. It’s like being in another limbo state in my life, because I’m pretty sure he’s the one I’m going to give it up to. I guess if it’s going to happen, I’m just going to have to be the one who bags him.
Yep, I’m ready. My first time is going to be with Bobby and it better be soon. Like, really soon.
Not that we don’t have fun together without the sex thing. He takes me to parties. We cruise the streets of Hollywood on his bike. We go to dance clubs and rocker haunts. I watch him surf and work out. He tags along while I film documentaries, and we talk for hours on the phone when I’m home—I’m so glad he’s a talker, not a text fanatic—even if he’s spent the entire day with me.
He is wicked smart, current and well-informed on the national and world news fronts. He is certainly better traveled than I am. He is one of the few people I’ve met with enough mental substance to keep me intellectually stimulated. Yep, even his smarts are a turn-on. Jeez, he can talk about anything, when most high school guys never have anything interesting to say. He’s the most popular guy on campus and he isn’t the least bit competitive about that.
I’m the one with the competitive personality. After our first argument, in fear of losing on the substantive points, I decided to win the argument the old-fashioned way: I devolved the conversation into something nearing phone sex. From that point on, I just started shifting our nightly conversations into a sexual vein since he seemed willing to go along with it. I was the one who started the sexting first, and I am the one who keeps pushing the line of what we do sexually in the pool house together.
It’s sweet that Bobby seems OK with respecting the status of our relationship, never pushing for an upward change in the level of seriousness physically but, heck, this girl is ready to do him.
It’s happening, this week, if I can figure out how to get Chrissie to let me take off for five days for the couples’ Santa Cruz trip Bobby has got planned over the Thanksgiving break. Mom isn’t at all cool like Linda Rowan.
Christ, maybe I should just tell Mom that I’m going to Zoe’s again. Less hassle, though it is a lie and I hate lying. Chrissie might prove me wrong, be cool if I tell her the truth. She might not even question the Santa Cruz thing.
She is definitely preoccupied lately. Injecting Linda Rowan into her carefully constructed universe seems to have propelled my mom out of her limbo stage. It’s nice that she’s being social again. She’s going out a lot. I’m pretty certain she’s dating, which is kind of bizarre, since with everything that’s happened this past year I expected her to get back with Alan, especially since they are both single at the same time, but no, haven’t seen him.