Unthinkable

March *** Part 5

Since I'm rolling solo for the night, I decide to make a Blockbuster run. This has been a long week, I just want to nestle into the nook on my couch. Just as I was making my way to the register, I run smack into Rucci.

"Oh, Sorry, didn't see you. Busy marveling at Brad Pitt." Vanna White-ing my "Se7en," "Meet Joe Black" and "Twelve Monkeys" trifecta.

"Still going to the prom with Jake Matthews?" I can tell from his delivery this isn't just small talk. "I guess I know why we haven't talked about what happened at Carnival Ball."

"Mike."

"I didn't peg you for someone who would fall for his routine. Just another sheep in the flock."

"It's just a dance, Mike." Shit! I regret my word choice as soon as it comes out of my mouth.

"Just a dance. That's rich. We both know how you get dances and feelings tangled up." This is priceless coming from him. I've never seen him THIS pissed before. "See I foolishly thought that was a great kiss. I thought it meant something. I thought maybe we could finally move past that other dance. But what do I know, I'm just an inexperienced little freshman. Isn't that right?"

He storms off. I don't stop him.

When he's out of earshot when I whisper, mostly for myself, "It did mean something."

***

"I think I'm going to pierce my nose," Penny declares as we're leaving rehearsal. "Will you come with me?"

"Sure, when do you want to go? Maybe I'll finally get my belly button done."

"Tonight, at the mall. I'll pick you up at 6:30ish after dance." Then she called back over her shoulder, "And no you won't, your mother will kill you. And I don't need to add that to her list of petty Penny crimes."

True story. But still... a girl could dream. And, while I was envisioning the look on my mom's face when I came home with a bellybutton ring, I hear, "Andrews." Jake.

I haven't seen Jake since our movie adventure which I somehow managed to survive without making a total ass of myself. I mean I did get popcorn down my shirt and I might have kicked over Jake's Mountain Dew on my way to the bathroom. But other than that — smooth sailing.

"Matthews." He hates being called Matthews, but he started it. He instinctively puts one finger up to my mouth, "Tsk tsk tsk. Don't. You know better than that." I kinda rolled my eyes, but his smile wins me over. He pulls his finger down from my face, and then goes in for the kill. "So, now that I've got you, do you want to tell me why you are avoiding me?"

Not particularly. Thanks for asking. I'm squirming. "I'm not avoiding you."

"Sam, don't lie to me. I know something is up and I need to hear it from you."

"It's no big deal, really. It's not." I'm fumbling for words. My Italian-ness is coming through loud and clear as my hands flail feverishly. I am stalling for words.

"Stop," he grabs my hands. Ouch. "What's up?"

"Well... I just wanted to talk to you about something..." I wrestle my hands free. I can't think if my hands are restricted. "There are some rumors... can we go somewhere and talk? Without ears?"

There are only three other kids still at their lockers, and not one of them is the least bit concerned what's happening at mine. But still, I've been burned too many times.