A Spy, A Prince, and Something Else... major reconstruction

Chapter 2

Wake up! Time for school,” mom screeched.

Darn it! Scanning my red and ebony room, I sat up. As I forced myself out of bed and onto cold wood floor, I felt the habitual morning goosebumps. That plus the habitual longing to be an only child. My little sister, Flora, had managed to scribble all over my once amazing cherrywood dresser once covered in intricate designs and knobs. While my other little sister, Fauna, managed to scratch up my nightstand. Yes, I know… Flora and Fauna? My parents thought it would be cute…I’m just glad I was named after my aunt Kimberly instead of plants. Anyway, My parents refuse to get me a lock because they want to be able to monitor me or whatever. I have always wondered if a 12” plasma TV on a 3’ book shelf is really worth the hassle. To top it off I have a desk covered in random papers and junk.

That’s when I noticed it. My boots were missing! I scoured the house for “The Terrible Two”, Flora and Fauna. I could tell they were the perpetrators. They loved to play dress up with my clothes. I stepped into their room and was utterly surprised. They were innocent. Since their kindergarten class was in the evening, The Terrible Two were at a friend’s house today. I was running out of time I decided I’d get ready then look for something else to wear with the outfit. After I got ready, I searched my closet for a replacement and found …….My Boots!!!

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“Hey Kim wait up,” Someone called from behind.

I stopped and turned over my shoulder. It was Jacque! Finally after weeks of flirting, he would ask me to the dance! I hope he doesn’t try to ask me in French. After he moved into our class a lot of student female grades had slipped. Worst of all I had already been behind. Let’s just say: Je m’appalle faire du ski! Now either I said “My name is to ski” or I said “I am still learning”.

“Hey Jacque”

“Hi Kim”

“What’s up?”

“There is a dance next month. No?”

“No. I mean yes….uhhuh the Valentine’s dance right?”

“Would you ………” He sighed, “Would you……..see if Emily has a date?”

My face turned red. I was so sure he was going to ask me. For the past week, I had been vigorously flirting with him. This was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. He probably thinks I‘m a total nub. Why is he still here? Is he waiting for me to say something? “Sure” I finally agreed as I realized he was still looking for an answer. Before I scampered off to first period, he apprehended my wrist.

“Umm Kim………” he gulped nervously, “Or maybe …you…I…we...…”

I began to get self conscious. Was there something in my teeth? Did my hair look ok? Was my makeup smeared? What if that was it? He didn’t know how to tell me I had lipstick in my teeth! Or maybe, he changed his mind! My heart jumped for joy. He really did want to ask me out.

"Thanks,” He finally stated, as if he had not shot me out of the warm, enchanting, sky and into the cold, grassy, plains. He stated, as if he had not untied the very string that ties me and keeps from deflating. He stated, as if he had not broke my heart.

“No problem.” I grinned. I don’t know who wrote this book, but these twists are killing me! Boys are so complex. I felt like Calypso from the Odysseys. I’m here looking stupid as my Odysseus rafts off to his Penelope. I’d show him. I’d find another person to go to the dance with. Someone popular who’d make him jealous. There are other fish in the sea. I’m glad I have other options. Now what were their names?

That morning I felt alone. I felt as if everyone, but I was pairing up for Valentines Day. I watched as the walls made their slow progress from Happy New Years to Happy Valentines Day. It was almost depressing. What if there was something wrong with me? No boy had ever asked me to a dance before. Why would they now? The most breath taking blow was watching Emily pass by talking to a group of friends about the dance. I tried to smile back but couldn’t help but, grimace at the sign for the dance behind her that read “Do you have a date for Dance yet?”

When I got to chemistry, I quickly skimmed the room for a possible seat. Andrew gestured for me to sit by him. No sign of Cindy, so I took the opportunity. I wasn’t sure which was weirder Andrew wanting me to sit by him or Cindy not stopping me. I don’t know why I’m over thinking things so much. Maybe he just wants to ask me to the dance. Or it could be me trying to put all this mushy junk in my head. By the time I got to my seat he had already pulled the chair out. Okay, Is it panic time yet? What If I’m just over reacting and this is an everyday thing for him.

“Hey Kim,” Andrew greeted with his 100watt smile.

“Hey Andrew,” I replied a bit coldly.

“Are you going to that dance?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It doesn’t seem like it would be much fun…”

“Are you kidding? You have to come.”

“Um…”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7”

“It’s a date?”

Before we could say anything else, the teacher walked in. She wore her alligator shoes with the silver buckle. Her earrings were always exotic looking. These I could almost promise you were something you’d see as a part of a Tribal Native American Ritual. As she walked to the chalk board and began to write the date at the top, a piece of her slip showed from her plum skirt. I heard that on April Fool’s Day one kid, Lisa or something,  thought it’d be funny to dress up as an officer and give her a ticket for her tacky outfits! Everyone but Mrs. Larson laughed. That was until Lisa ended up in our class again because her summer school application got “lost” in sorting. It was no shock her paper was last seen in the teacher’s lounge.

“Good morning class,” she sang cheerfully.

“Good morning Mrs. Larson,” the class moaned.

“Yo! Yo! Yo! Mz. Lizzy off the hizzy,” someone boldly began from the back. As a side effect, a slow cloud of laughter moved though the classroom.

“Everybody please settled down,” she droned as she stared daggers into the eyes of every student in the class. “Take out a piece of paper and write Mrs. Larson 150 times per side.”

“Aww,” the class complained, until she raised it to 300.

“Where’s Cindy?” I whispered nudging Andrew.

“Who?” Andrew whispered puzzled.

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