Love, Your Secret Admirer

Chapter 11

Everyday this week Zach has never left my side.  He walks me to every class.  If anyone even tries to look at me, he will give them the same dark glare he gave me.  The only time I have to myself is when I go to the bathroom and in the classes that Zach and I don’t share.  Even then, he’s outside my class, waiting for me when it’s over.  It’s been hard not to talk to Tom during pre cal.  Instead of taking the seat next to him like usual, I sit all the way across the room.  I started bringing my iPod to school so I don’t have to pretend that I don’t hear him when he’s calling after me after class.  I have been ignoring his text messages and phone calls.  It’s hard because I really do consider Tom as one of my best friends.  But I guess now that’s considered. 

            One day Zach had to stay after school for a senior’s assembly, so I went to swim practice alone.  All the other kids were there, practicing their individual strokes.  I go into the locker room and change into my swim suit.  I’m tucking my hair into my swim cap as I walk toward the pool.  Coach calls for butterfly strokes to line up.  I step onto the block and get into position.  The coach blows her whistle and I dive into the pool.  As I swim I think about Zach and the incident.  The fear makes me swim faster.  I flip around and start another lap.  I think about how Jefferson assumes that he knows what’s best for me even though he only met me a week ago.  The anger makes me swim faster as I start another lap.  I think about my secret admirer and how he insists in remaining a secret.  The frustration makes me swim faster as I start another lap.  My conflicting emotions push me through the pool with ease.  The water just gliding off my body.  I reach the end of the pool and surface myself.  I look behind me and the other swimmers are only half way across the pool.  I lift myself out as my coach approaches me.

“Janeen, great times.  I think you broke a record,” she says.

“Thanks coach,” I respond.

            After practice I walk home.  I told Zach not to worry about me and that I’ll get a ride.  But, really, I just need some time to myself.  I was almost half way home when I hear him.  I hear him calling me but I keep walking, pretending I don’t.  I hear his footsteps get faster and closer.  I start walking faster but I wasn’t fast enough, he grabs my arm and makes me look at him.

            “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” Tom asks.

            “No” I lie.

            “Did you get my calls and texts?”

            “No” I lie again.  I hate lying to anyone, but especially to Tom.

            “Oh.  Why does it seem like you have been avoiding me?” Tom asks trying to smile.

            “Tom, I can’t really talk now,” I say turning around to continue my way home.  Tom falls into step beside me.

            “Why?  You haven’t talked to me all week.  Are you too busy with Mr. Popular to talk to me anymore?” he says trying to make a joke.

            “Don’t call him that,” I say defending Zach.  I try walking faster, but Tom just walks faster with me.

            “Calm down, Janeen, it was just a joke,” he notices how fast I’m walking and grabs my arm again.  “Why are you trying to get away from me?”

            “I can’t talk to you,” I say trying to make him understand, but I see in his eyes he doesn’t.  “Just, follow me to my house, but stay back a few feet.”  I can see that he's hurt but he nods and does what I say.  When we get to my house I open the door and wait for him to come inside.  I take him upstairs into my room and close the door and the curtains.  I feel like this is some big secret that I can’t even let the birds know.  I turn around to face him.  He is wearing one of his usual flannels with his jeans and high tops that are just like mine.  I look at his face to see his usually messy black hair has been brushed, but his thick black glasses sitting on his nose, dusted with freckles is the same.  So are the pale blue eyes that he has had since we were kids.  He’s waiting for me to tell him why I can’t talk to him outside but I can’t, so I start to cry.  I try to keep the tears in by breathing deeper.  I know I’m an emotional person, and I hate it.