The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(288)

We exchanged quick hellos before I turned toward the towel dispenser and they turned back to their conversation.

“I heard he’s from Indiana,” Penelope said through an exhale.

Margie spat back, “They don’t make them like that in Indiana. Mount Olympus, maybe. But not Indiana.”

Clearly, the hot topic of gossip for the next millennium at St. Norman’s High School was going to be about the new kid.

“Do you think he has a girlfriend, like back home or whatever?”

Margie threw the butt into the toilet with a sizzle and flushed the incriminating evidence away. “Guys like that always do. Why? You think you have a shot at him? As if.”

Penelope huffed at her friend’s assessment and made her way over to the sink next to me. “That’s not why I asked. I already have a boyfriend anyway. I was just curious, is all.” Then she directed her next words to me. “Layla!”

I turned toward her all innocence, as if I hadn’t spent the past minutes chafing my face and hands on the scratchy excuse for a paper towel just so I could eavesdrop.

Penelope asked, “What do you think? Have you seen him yet?”

“Who’s that?” I asked unconvincingly.

She rolled her eyes. “The new kid. Terrence C. Williesomething.”

Before I could stop myself, I found myself saying, “His name’s Trip,” and then probably blushed twelve different shades of red.

Penelope raised knowing brows at me as she pumped the dispenser lever of the paper towel holder, tearing off a three-foot length of recycled brown sandpaper.

I added quickly, “He’s in Mason’s class with me right now.”

Penelope said, “Yeah. I had him in Biology.”

“You wish,” Margie piped in.

Penelope threw her towel in the trashcan, asking, “I wonder what the C stands for.”

To which a quick-witted Margie shot back, “Hmm. Crumptious?”



When I got back to class, I avoided all eye contact as I tried to slide unnoticed back into my seat. I opened my book to the current page and was trying to concentrate on Capulets and Montagues when there was an electric shock against my shoulder blade; a finger poking me in the back. Trip was apparently trying to get my attention. Like he hadn’t already.

I snuck a quick glance to make sure Mason was still at the blackboard before twisting around sideways in my seat. If I were Lisa, I could have come up with the perfect thing to say to him. But I was me, so the wittiest remark I could come up with was, “What is it, New Kid?”

At first, this brought a staggered look to Trip’s face, but then he rewarded my jab with a smirk. Seeing his lip curl into a crooked smile while getting a close-up view of his gorgeous blue eyes for the first time made my composure slip just the slightest notch. I guess he didn’t notice, because he simply asked, “You okay?”

I supposed it shouldn’t have been a big surprise to find out my coughing fit hadn’t gone undetected. “Yeah. Fine, thanks. How about you?”

Trip furrowed confused brows at me, compelling me to clarify. “The dog-and-pony show Mason forced you into, making you get up there and introduce yourself to the class. Was it awful? It didn’t really seem to bother you.”

Trip leaned back in his seat, tapping a pencil across his unopened notebook. “Yeah, well. Third time today. Guess I’m getting used to it.”

I thought about what a nightmare this poor guy’s first day had been. Although, he didn’t seem too fazed by it. I guess it would have just been a nightmare for me. I gave him a sympathetic smile which was interrupted by Mrs. Mason saying, “Layla! Eyes up here, please.”

I turned to face front, registering the few, sly glances I received from my classmates, busting me for ogling the cute new kid.

Kill. Me. Now.

The class’s attentions went back to Mason’s chalk diagrams, but my thoughts were entirely elsewhere. It didn’t help matters when I heard Trip give a snicker and whisper, “Layla... Nice.”



I met up with Lisa in the halls on our way to the gymnasium. Before I could even fill her in on the day’s drama, she launched right in. “Oh my God, Layla! I can’t believe I haven’t talked to you all day. Did you see him?”

With the girls in the bathroom, I felt the need to play it cool. But this was Lisa, my best friend in the entire world, so there was no need to be coy. “Yes. He’s in Mason’s class with me.”

Lisa pulled the heavy wooden gym doors open. “Holy crap. He is sooo cute. Damn. I wonder what the C stands for. I hope he’s in our gym class, I’ll bet he looks great in a pair of gym shorts. You know how I just love a guy that has strong legs and a gorgeous guy like that has just got to have strong legs. I mean, when I saw him walk into the cafeteria, I just about spit up my Diet Coke. Where were you? You totally missed it. I overheard Rymer and those guys sizing him up from the lunch line. They were all talk, of course, because as soon as he walked into the room, they were making a spot for him at our table. Which, you know, is good, because I guess we’ll see him around a lot if he’s going to be hanging with our guys. Oh, you know what?”

I was trying to keep a mental log of the twelve different topics my friend had just brought up in order to respond accordingly once she finally broke for air. Most of the time, Lisa is pretty high-strung to begin with. But forget about getting a word in edgewise when she’s really excited about something. Although, I guess I was getting a little excited, too. I didn’t realize Trip had our same lunch period until Lisa just told me about it. I had grabbed a soft pretzel and a soda on my way down to the art room, skipping lunch period that day like I sometimes did in favor of some extra studio time.

“Hellooo, Layla. You in there? Are you even listening?”

No.

“Yes. Hanging around our guys. Got it.”

Lisa sat herself down on a bench in the locker room and slipped her blouse off over her head. “No, Dippy. I said Rymer’s having a party this weekend because his parents are going down to Cape May for three whole days. Sargento’s brother already said he’d get us a keg. Do you think he’ll be there? What are you going to wear?”

This, of course, was a loaded question if there ever was one. I have learned over the years that whatever I said in answer would be met with Lisa’s crinkled nose and unsolicited input. So, after a while, I just stopped answering it seriously. “MC Hammer pants and my Schoolhouse Rock T-shirt. You?”

Lisa had finished getting her gym clothes on and was checking out her hair in the mirror. I couldn’t imagine why she’d feel the need to make adjustments considering the amount of gel, mousse and hairspray keeping that bouffant in check. A mere costume change wasn’t going to be enough to ruffle that ‘do. I mean, we all had big hair, but Lisa’s was usually tornado-proof.

She turned from the mirror and retied the shoelace on her pink, Reebok hightops before answering. “Very funny.”

Before Lisa could offer her opinion on a more appropriate party ensemble, Coach Lorenzo started blowing her whistle, signaling the start of class.





Chapter 3

GOODFELLAS



The next day, I woke up earlier than usual. I had set my alarm to go off twenty minutes before my normal wakeup time so that I could piece together an appropriate job-hunting outfit to change into after school. Had I not procrastinated the night before (I couldn’t put Catcher in the Rye down and passed out sometime during Holden’s duck fixation), I could have lain something out ahead of time. As it was, I was determined to make the right first impression on any potential employers and I didn’t think my uniform was going to cut it.

Once I was satisfied with the results of my closet foray, I grabbed a towel off the doorknob and started to head off into the bathroom. I took a quick peek out my window toward the front of our house... and right at that very second I saw Trip jogging by! My heart slammed into my stomach, but I immediately turned off my bedroom light and continued spying from behind the safety of my mini-blinds. I was just able to catch him as he turned off my street and made his way up Cedar Drive.

When Lisa picked me up an hour later, I was still feeling a little flustered. I slipped into the passenger seat, listening to her babble about lordonlyknows when I guess the look on my face made her stop mid-sentence to ask, “What’s with you?”

I just turned to her and said. “You were right.”

She crinkled up her nose and asked, “About what?”

I bit my bottom lip in anticipation of the reaction I was about to provoke and replied, “About Trip in a pair of shorts.”



I spent my morning going about my usual routine, counting down the minutes until lunch. Sitting in World History and listening to Mr. Sasso drone on and on tried my patience more than usual as I watched the clock barely ticking away the time. Who could concentrate on Tiananmen Square when the promise of sharing a lunch table with Terrence C. Wilmington III was only minutes away?

After an eternity, the bell finally rang. I shoved my way through the throng of students rushing to their next class and ducked into the ladies’ room for a quick hair check and lipstick application. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I also knew that my confidence always shot up a couple notches whenever I felt like I looked okay.