Much Better

I don't hear a fat lady singin', so this can't be over!

I spent that night, the whole of Thursday and the morning of Friday wondering if I was the biggest idiot alive.

Here I had been whining and crying about how I couldn't get a guy to like me, how all I wanted was a little romance, and then when a perfectly cute, ridiculously smart, and only slightly abnormal guy admits he's been in love with me for months, I walk away.

Yeah, I was an idiot, but a strong-willed idiot nonetheless. I had to at least give myself credit there. I stuck to my goal of creating some sort of self-esteem and at least I could be proud of myself for that.

For what it cost.

Well, if his feelings were true he definitely couldn't be feeling them anymore. I figured after my stunning display of idiocy, he had pegged me as high maintenance and most likely gave up on me. I wouldn't blame him. I hadn't seen him at all on Thursday (we rarely do see each other anyway) and his absence only made me feel more moronic.

I spent the breaks and the time in the halls searching the crowds for his dark hair or his gray trench coat. It took until Thursday afternoon for me to realize that I missed him. I missed him a lot. Oh God, what had I done?

Ruined everything, that's what.

Thursday the rumors of Lincoln and I were running rampant. Apparently, I had smacked him across the face for embarrassing me but then we had sex in the empty classroom he dragged me into.

Because obviously that is something I would allow to happen. And these people have known me since kindergarten!

Friday only brought a new wave of rumors ("He really is pierced there, Jamie told me herself!") more stares, more lovely comments from Ashley Arnold and her crew. By this time I was almost used to them and didn't feel completely hideous when I walked down the halls.

At least I could say the great Lincoln Suthersby had kissed me twice and not against his will either. Could Ashley Arnold say that? Nope. She could call me all the degrading things she wanted to, but at least I had kissed the most intriguing guy in school.

Then went off and dumped him. I winced every time I thought of it, wishing I could go back in time.

When second break came around, I had been asked fifteen times what really happened in that classroom, what Lincoln was like, does he really think he's a vampire and are we a couple?

Mel complained that her eyes hurt from all the death stares she had to give and I was so tired of the phrase, "no comment," I considered making a sign and putting it around my neck.

We sat around the table in the courtyard, picking at our food and hastily finishing undone homework, when a loud scratchy noise erupted.

"Testing . . . testing," a voice boomed.

Students were looking around curiously, searching for the source of the noise. We had speakers in the courtyard that generally played music during breaks or were used when candidates for student offices gave speeches. Looking at the platform and podium where they usually gave said speeches, we all saw it was empty.

Though the wireless microphone was missing.

I turned in all directions, there seemed to be no source.

"Hello, students of Vaquero High," the voice said.

"Who the hell?" was the general response.

"My name is Lincoln Duncan Suthersby. I'm eighteen and a senior . . ."

The crowd was instantly silenced and Mel pinched my arm, pointing up. On the second floor, on top of a row of lockers, sat Lincoln – donned in his gray trench coat – with the microphone in hand.