“Here’s your English class. You’re in my class. We have Miss Davenport. She’s super fun when you get her all flustered.” We continue walking the halls. “And over here is Math with Mr. Christianson. If you follow-up everything he says with another question, you will make him cry. I’ve made that my life’s mission in his class.” We stop in front of a long row of lockers. “Here’s your locker. Do you know how to open a combination lock?”
“Yes. This isn’t my first school with lockers.”
“How many schools have you been to?”
“Eight.”
“Eight? Dang. That probably sucks. Here let me throw your stuff in your locker for you.” Jake takes my books and bag from my hands and does just that; throws it all in my locker. He pulls a pencil and a notebook from the mess he created and hands it back to me. “Here. Time to go to class.”
“Don’t you need anything?”
He laughs at me - actually laughs at my logical question. “Nope. I don’t need anything. I have friends who take care of writing my notes for me.”
“Friends?”
“Yep. Mostly girls. I could always use another friend to help me with my homework if you’re interested.” He gives me another of those award-winning smiles and throws his arm over my shoulder.
“No thank you,” I mumble, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice as I forcefully remove his arm from my shoulder.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like me? Everybody likes me. Everybody wants to be my friend.”
“Well, not me. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to my first class.” I try to walk around him, but he steps to the side blocking my effort. His eyes are so blue and full of mischief. I can almost see the wheels turning inside that cute little head of his.
“I think you do like me. That’s your problem.”
I feel the blush creeping into my cheeks. “Whatever. I need to go.” Jake bends down and gets right in my face, the corner of his lip turned up in a partial smile. It’s a beautiful smile.
“Welcome to Rivers Edge, Erin. I’ll be seeing you very soon, darlin’,” he says before he turns and walks away, assumingly towards his class. I stand there staring after him as he walks away. He turns around suddenly, catching me watching him, and gives me a full-watt smile that makes my breath catch in my throat.
Oh, this boy is going to be trouble.
*****
I’ve been in Rivers Edge for about four months already. I have developed a nice routine which starts to scare me a little. Usually about the time I develop a routine, my parents announce that my dad’s being transferred again.
I’ve made friends with two girls that most will call geeks or nerds. We love books, don’t mind homework, and love to study together. Sarah, Claire, and I meet up every day after school at the public library. It’s my favorite place in this town. I could get lost in a library for days upon days, devouring book after book, story after story. Books are the one constant in my life. When everything around me changes, books are the same, offering me comfort in a world full of chaos and uncertainty.
I still see Jake everyday though it isn’t because we’re “friends”. Jake is one of the popular kids and I am, well, not. I almost wish he would just ignore my existence. But he doesn’t. He goes out of his way to say hi, wink at me, and offer to carry my books. It’s almost like he’s trying to embarrass me and keep me flustered.
The most embarrassing moment came one day during study hall when he proceeded to stand up on his seat and profess his undying love for me. His friends laughed and cheered him on as he humiliated me in front of thirty of our classmates. He received a detention for that stunt. But that embarrassing moment, as horrible as it was, was nothing compared to the humiliation I endured towards the end of March.
I was in a hurry to get to school on this rainy morning and was gathering up my books and notebooks from the desk in my room. What I didn’t notice is that I also grab my journal in my haste to get out the door. When you bounce around from town to town, school to school, everything in life becomes a big blur. I started a journal when I was in fifth grade and have faithfully kept it up. I write about my thoughts, my fears, my passions, things that transpire at school and at home, all the people in my life including friends, classmates, teachers, parents, and most importantly, my crushes.
I am sitting in third period English, with Jake right behind me, and the room is quiet as we all take a test. What I didn’t notice was Jake reaching into my satchel bag that is hanging on the back of my chair and pull out my journal. Nor do I see him shove it in his own bag before the bell rang.