The Freshman Child

Chapter 5: Secrets and Lies

Chapter 5: Secrets and Lies

With its motor revved too high, the BMW pulled into Caitlin’s driveway. The guy behind the wheel, Luke Parker—jock and heartthrob, basketball hero of Roland Park Academy—turned to Caitlin with a questioning look on his face.

“Thanks, Luke.” Caitlin quickly jumped out of the car. She gave him a vague wave as he slowly backed out of the driveway.

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be invited in. This is bad.  Luke sighed. Caitlin’s wave told him he was fading fast—there was no commitment in that wave. It was time to up his game.

Caitlin ran her hand through her auburn hair. Trust Luke to get too attached. She almost laughed. Theirs wasn’t true love. Hell, no. Unfortunately, he was more interesting when he was on the court, playing basketball like a heavy-contact sport. Out of it, I don’t think so. He doesn’t cut it for her. He wasn’t Max.

Max. Max. Max.  Just thinking his name made her all excited and horny. Those piercing blue eyes. When he looks at me, I feel like he’s kissing me. If only!

Caitlin gritted her teeth. She could feel her anger rising again. She didn’t want to think about the way Max had been staring at that stupid girl in gym class and what it meant.

That nobody freshman better watch it. Max is mine! Caitlin thought fiercely.

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

Caitlin took possibly the longest shower in history, enjoying every minute of it. Then she spread out some clothes on her bed, trying to pick out what to wear to the party tonight when her phone rang. She hated being interrupted while she was trying to make an important decision during a fashion crisis. “Hello?” she barked.

There was silence at the other end.

“If this is an obscene call, you’re going to have to breathe louder than that,” Caitlin said, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, Caitlin?”

“Uh, no. This is her gra—.”

Before Caitlin could finish, the guy rushed on. “This is Noah. Noah Robinson. I think you know me, but I’m not sure. I’m in your English class. What am I saying? I mean Spanish. Third row. But I take English right after you do. We pass each other at the door. When I get out of History in time, that is. Well, anyway. I’ve got light hair. Does that help?”

“Help what?” Caitlin answered sarcastically.

“I’m on the football team. I see you during the games.”

“So? I think you’ve got—”

“Anyway, maybe, you’d like to go out sometime. With me,” he hurried on. “I mean, I’m sure you already have a ton of guys but, uh…I have a feeling I’m not making too much sense.”

You’re right about that, Caitlin thought.

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to see a movie or have dinner or whatever on Saturday? Or Friday? Whenever.”

“Listen,” Caitlin said, quickly grabbing a bag of chips from her desk and rubbing it against her phone to simulate the sound of static, “I have to cut this call. You’re breaking up. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

She threw her phone on top of the pile of clothes and collapsed on her bed, laughing hard.

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

Max laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. He mouthed the words to his favorite Avenged Sevenfold song. There was a party tonight, he knew, at some random senior’s house, whose parents are out of town. For some reason, he didn’t feel like going. For sure, there would be a lot of babes throwing themselves at him. He grimaced. Maybe he was ill. He just wasn’t feeling it tonight. He was tired of the predictability of his life.

He got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He took out the crumpled ball of paper and smoothed it. The words jumped out at him once more…

           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”

Would you look at that? That kid in gym class liked someone. Enough to write a poem about him. How cute. Not really. 

Max choked back his laughter at her sappiness. At first, he had thought that maybe the kid had a crush on him. Like, who didn’t?

Then he thought back to a few days ago at the lunch room when the kid dumped yogurt on herself. The moment that idiot Noah started talking to her, she had lit up like a neon sign.

Ha! He got her. That’s when he knew. The kid has the hots for Noah freaking Robinson, alright.  Max didn’t get that at all. Like, really? That twit was her type?  What a shame! He liked the kid. Not like like. He just thought she was pretty hilarious. It was really funny when she had walked in to his English class and then blushed like a peach when she found out she wasn’t supposed to be there yet. Then she crashed and burned in gym class. That was classic, totally epic. Oh yeah, she was a walking disaster. Max laughed at the memory.

So she liked Noah, huh? Now, what to do with that crucial bit of information? Max suddenly felt energized.

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

Sam was about to lose her mind. She checked her book bag again and between the pages of her books. Nope. No such luck, it was gone. Really gone. She was in trouble. Big trouble. She prayed that it hadn’t fallen into the wrong hands. These were dangerous times. How could she be such an idiot? 

She hurriedly typed in Jill’s number. Tears were almost filling her eyes when Jill finally picked up.

“Jill, I am so screwed. Seriously. I’m in deep shit. In Algebra today, I uh…sort of…wrote a poem for that boy and somehow I lost it and I don’t know where it is now…except I think that….” Sam started to wail.

Jill was quiet for a moment. “Hold up. You wrote mystery boy a poem? You have got it bad!”

“Yes, but now I lost it and I think that…” Sam started to cry harder this time.

“That, what?”

“That jerk, Max Cavendish has it.”

“Max Cavendish? Ok, calm down. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, right? He probably doesn’t even know you exist.”

“Jeez, thanks. That’s a nice thing to say.”

“I’m sorry. What I meant was, c’mon Max Cavendish? He’s a senior. It’s not like he’s going to mess around with you or your poem. Right?”

“I don’t know, Jill. I have a bad feeling about this.” Fresh tears flowed from her eyes. “Oh, this is so embarrassing!”

“Listen, just play it cool.  He doesn’t know who the poem is for anyway.”

“Ohmygod! What if he thinks that I wrote it for him? Jill! I’m never going to live that down!”

“Well, you could always pretend that you did not write the poem. Like, flat out lie about it. You could do that, right?”

“I guess so. I’m still hoping I’m wrong and that Max doesn’t have it and that he doesn’t know it was me who wrote it. Otherwise, I’d die. I. Would. Die.”

 All Rights Reserved. © 2013. StephanieLattimer.