The Freshman Child

Chapter 3: Where You Want Me

Chapter 3: Where You Want Me

“This is so depressing!” Sam said gloomily as she munched on a cracker.

“What is?” Jill asked immediately, ever curious for more gossip.

“I haven’t seen that boy again,” Sam replied. “I mean, here it is, the third day of school and we haven’t so much as passed in the halls.”

“You probably have, only the halls are always so crowded,” Jill said absently. “My power sandwich!” she exclaimed, swiftly changing topics. She felt inside her lunch bag again, then pulled out a jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off and a bag of happy-face cookies—her little brother’s meal. “How am I supposed to try out for the lacrosse team today without my power sandwich?” She looked over Sam’s lunch. “Do you have anything better?”

“Help yourself. I don’t want it.”

“You’re not on a diet, are you?” Jill teased her, picking up Sam’s tuna on whole wheat.

“No.”

“Pining away from unrequited love?”

“Jill!”

Jill took a bite of the sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “I think you should tell this boy how you feel. Oh, but first find out what his name is,” she grinned impishly. “I can help you with that.”

“Keep your voice down, okay?” Sam glanced around her anxiously. A few feet away, she saw the drop-dead gorgeous redhead cheerleader the boy had been hanging around with a couple of days ago. Her heart sank, just a little bit.

“If you told him, what’s the worst possible thing that could happen?” Jill asked.

“You mean other than my complete humiliation when he looks amazed, then laughs hysterically?”

“Mystery boy sounds like he’s too nice a guy to do that,” Jill replied.

“Okay, so he looks amazed, chokes back his laughter, and then feels sorry for me. That’s worse.”

“What an optimist you are!” Jill said with a chuckle. “Here, have a jelly sandwich and some cookies. Comfort food.”

Sam took the bag and started working on the happy-face cookies, popping them into her mouth in quick succession. They were stale, but chocolate was chocolate.

xxxxxx----------xxxxxx

Two tables away, Caitlin was silently observing the two girls. She was bored. She needed someone to liven things up.  Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous sparkle. It was always open season with the freshmen.

She knew that the girl with the long, dark hair had a thing for Noah.  Caitlin had felt the girl’s eyes boring holes into them a few days ago, when Noah had been stalking her again. She could feel the hopeless longing coming off in waves from the girl. She could really exploit that weakness. This is going to be a great year. Caitlin smiled wickedly.

xxxxxx----------xxxxxx

While Mrs. Palmer handed out the next day’s assignment, Sam quickly put away the notebook she’d been doodling on. Unconsciously, she had written a poem. A freaking poem. What was wrong with her? She glanced down at the sheet of paper and frowned.

          i’m too shy

          to tell you

          how i feel

          so i’ll hide behind

          timid smiles and

          soft hellos

          i’m afraid

          if I ask you

          “what do you think

          of me?”

          your reply will be

                                                  “I don’t”

Sam quickly tore off the page and crumpled it, squeezing it hard. She gathered her stuff and decided she’d stop by her locker before gym class.

The sudden reminder of gym class made her groan silently. That afternoon the whole school would be running through a skills test, which supposedly would tell them how badly out of shape they were and how much they’d have to improve by the end of the year. Sam was not looking forward to it.

Jill had been in a panic about the test since Coach Ulyanov and Coach Winters, the gym class instructors, had made the announcement the day before. In fact, Jill had insisted that she was going to go home and work out with her dad’s weights to prepare for it.

“Jill,” Sam had informed her, “it’s impossible to turn terminal flab into solid granite overnight.”

“Well, maybe I’ll sprain something,” Jill retorted defensively. “Then I’ll get out of the tests.”

“Maybe if you drop the weights on your head, you’ll never have to take gym again.”

Snapping out of her reverie, Sam raced to the gym as the warning bell rang. And then she ran into a wall—at least that’s what it felt like. The hall spun crazily for a moment, but then someone caught her and held her until she regained her balance. She looked up to see it was the same ferocious-looking guy from the lunchroom. She started to tremble in fear. She couldn’t look past his tattoos and piercings. It scared her that much.

“Are you okay, kid?” he asked roughly, still holding Sam by the shoulders.

“I think so,” Sam answered feebly. She didn’t ask the guy if he was alright. He towered over her by at least a foot and outweighed her by about a hundred pounds, so she figured it wasn’t necessary.

The guy released her and picked up the books that had been knocked out of her arms. He noticed a crumpled ball of paper that landed near his feet. Interesting. He picked it up and pocketed it. He then smirked at her. “Next time, watch where you’re going, kid. Are you sure you’re supposed to be in high school?” he said condescendingly.

Sam suddenly realized they had an audience.  Aside from the people milling about the halls, Sam noticed the guy’s friends who were standing by the stairs, watching them with amusement.

“Hey, Max, stick to someone your own size and don’t bruise up the women,” one boy advised.

Another boy laughed. “When Max hits on a girl, he really hits on her,” he added.

Sam snatched her books from the guy called Max and fled down the hall, blushing to the roots of her hair, oblivious to the whispers around her. Not for the first time since she had moved to Baltimore, she thought of her old friends and her old school. She was engulfed by homesickness. Don’t think about it, she told herself. It’ll only make things worse.

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