Nathan looks about as happy as I do to be in this situation. But I suppose being grounded and stuck in my room is worse than being stuck with Nathan Keener. Nathan Keener.
Just the name alone could get a kid beat up. "Amy's grounded," my dad says. Thanks a lot for sharing that humiliating piece of information, Dad.
"Oh," Mrs. Keener says, obviously put in an awkward situation.
"But I guess if she takes Mutt for a walk, she could go out for a bit--"
Needing no further push, I grab Mutt's leash off our hall tree and snap it on his collar. "Come on, Nathan," I call over my shoulder as I hurry to the elevator with a very excited and very large puppy.
Nathan, it seems, needs no further push either. He follows right behind me and enters the elevator as soon as Mutt and I step inside.
We have no elevator music in our building, so it's just silence except for heavy panting courtesy of my dog.
"You don't have to babysit me, you know," he says while crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look tough. He doesn't.
"Your aunt seems to think I do," I reply.
The elevator door opens. Nathan Keener is right behind me, not missing a step when I exit our building. But once I turn toward the dog park, I don't hear his footsteps behind me anymore. Turning around, I find Nathan
walking in the opposite direction. With his long, corduroy-wrapped legs, he's already half a block away.
Mutt is pulling me toward the park. "Hey, Nathan!" I yell, but the guy doesn't turn around. Now what am I supposed to do?
6
Chicken soup can help heal you when you're sick. Is there a recipe for healing relationships?
***
If you can believe it, I found out this morning Nathan Keener is going to my school, a private prep school called Chicago Academy. Yep, it's true. I also have the pleasure of sitting behind him in English class and he's even in gym class with me. It wouldn't be so bad, but he's already the talk of the entire school.
What is it about transfer students that fascinates people so much? If I hear one more time, Amy, did you see the new guy? I swear I'm gonna scream. It's fifth period. I have study hall. I sit next to Kyle Sanderson, the varsity center for Chicago Academy's basketball team and all-around popular guy. The only flaw is that Kyle wears no less than a half a bottle of cologne every day. You can tell when Kyle leaves a classroom that he's been there. He's like a bear, leaving his scent behind for girls.
"What's up, Nelson?" he says, calling me by my last name as he slides skillfully into the seat next to me. Do you think he practices that move?
I'm not about to tell him I've been hyphenating my last name since the beginning of the school year, using both my parents' last names. I'm now Amy Nelson-Barak. I'm not telling Kyle because 1) he wouldn't care and 2) he wouldn't remember even if I did tell him.
"Not much," I respond.
"That's not what I heard."
Huh?
"What'd you hear?" I ask him. Is there a rumor about me? "That you signed up for a dating service."
"Who told you that?" It's not true... exactly. Kyle leans his chair back on two legs. "The new guy. You know, the one with glasses and dorky clothes."
"Nathan?"
Kyle shrugs his big shoulders and says, "Yep. The dude's my bio partner this week."
I'm going to kill that tall, lanky jerk who wouldn't know the difference between Dana Buchman and Armani. How dare he spread rumors about me!
"So...are you that hard up?" Kyle asks. '"Cause you're kinda cute, Nelson, and you got great boobage."
I whip my head around and glare at him. "Boobage? Jeez, Kyle, do you make these words up?"
He puts his hands up in question. "You'd rather I said tits?"
"Shut up," I say before opening my trig book and sticking my head in it. I swear, if he keeps staring at my chest I'm going to make sure he can't pass the ball at the next basketball game.
"Miss Barak, would you care to share your conversation with the rest of us?" Mr. Hennesey barks out from the front of the room. Mr. Hennesey is the gym teacher as well as study hall monitor. Study hall policeman is more like it.
If Kyle mentions my boobage to the rest of the room, I'm going to kill him... along with Nathan Keener.
"Nope," I say.
"Then I suggest you both quit talking or I'll have to separate you." I wish.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Hennesey walks out of the room. As everyone knows, when a teacher walks out of the room it's an invitation to start talking. Right now I don't want to talk.
"You need a date for the Valentine's Dance?" Kyle says, loudly I might add.
I c**k my head to the side and answer sweetly, "Why? Are you asking me?" Ha! Right back at ya. Nothing like a lowly junior putting a popular senior boy on the spot.
I'm sure everyone in the entire room hears our conversation. The snickers and looks in our direction are a clue. I think the words "Valentine's Dance" alone would turn heads. It's on everyone's mind since the posters went up last week.
"I will, if you want to do a threesome. I already asked Caroleen Connors, but I'm man enough to take you both on at once."
Kyle has the nerve to wink at me. Eww! The guy needs a serious ego adjustment.
Mr. Hennesey walks back into the room, so I can't respond. So now I'm sitting here, seething at Kyle for being a male chauvinist pig and at Nathan for spreading rumors about me.