A Four Letter Word (7 page)

"
Zoey. I like it. Well,
Zoey
, it looks like you're stuck with me." My eyes widen.

"Don't worry, I'm not a slacker. I won't let you do all the work." His smile grows, and it puts me at ease.

I smile back. "Good. I would hate to be stuck with a
slacker
."

Or a jerk.

Evan smiles and nods his head. He then turns his attention back to Mr. Williams who has started to go over the syllabus. I do the same, and I can't help but think that – just maybe – Erica might be wrong.

Chapter 7

High School Sophomore Year/middle of second quarter…

Apparently, Felicia Simpson got sick and threw up in the classroom—all over the classroom, actually. So, needless to say, the janitor is inside cleaning up the biohazard, while we wait in the hall. Mr. Williams isn't too pleased to say the least. Erica and Gabbie are talking about some new movie they are going to go see this weekend on their double date. I'm trying to pay attention, but I can't seem to. I am only feigning interest, nodding my head every so often and smiling, pretending to know what they are talking about.

"So, what about you,
Zoey. Do you want to come out with us?" Gabbie asks, her eyes showing nothing but mischief.

"What?" I am paying attention now.
             

"I asked if you wanted to come to the movies with us. I'm sure we could set you up with somebody,"
Gabbie informs me.

I give Erica my "What the fuck" look. She doesn't rescue me; instead, she smiles and stifles a giggle.

"Um, no, I have to work on my English paper."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun." She nudges my side.

"No, thanks. Maybe some other time."

Truth is, no one holds my interest, and the thought of going on a blind date scares the shit out of me. One time, in Michigan, my friend, Claire set me up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend's friends. She couldn't tell me much about him except he was a nice guy. The whole night I had to hear about his Star Wars obsession. He even tried to show me his light saber—an actual light saber used in the movie. Plus he had to use his inhaler about a half a dozen times. I was ready to kill Claire after that. So, I decided right then and there to never, ever go on a blind date again.

"I'll hold you to it," Gabbie teases as the janitor finally says we can go back into the classroom.

Erica smiles at me, and then her eyes look over my shoulder and her smile widens. Before I can turn to see what she is smiling at, an arm wraps around my shoulders from behind, and I feel hard muscles against my back.

Evan.

"Come on, partner," Evan's warm breath tickles my ear.

My insides turn to mush as Evan pulls me into the classroom. I feel my lips curl up into a huge smile. Erica stares at me with a questioning look on her face. I smile wider. Erica and I have spent many nights talking about my crush on Evan. She seems to think I should act upon it, but I never, ever could. I know Evan just doesn't see me that way. As much as I want him to, I know he doesn't, even though moments like this give me hope. Evan stops dragging me, and we find our way to our seats while the rest of the students start to find theirs. I begin to take out my notebook and index cards, and when I look up, Evan is staring at me intently.

"What?" All I can think is there is something gross stuck in my hair, or I have something smeared across my face.

Erica would have told me, right? Shit!

I immediately set my notebook and index cards down, and my hands start smoothing out my hair in search of something. Evan smiles and shakes his head, looking away from me.
"Nothing." I stare at him, completely dumbfounded.

What the hell was that all about?

"All right, everybody, we don't have much time left of class, so take out your index cards and continue working," Mr. Williams instructs the class.

Mr. Williams gave us the fun assignment of drawing animals from each phylum, along with the correct scientific name and definition. Most of the class isn't too thrilled with the mundane task, calling it bullshit, busy work. Not me; I love to draw, and of course I get creative with my depictions, adding background scenery and whatnot. Call me an over-achiever, I guess. I grab my trusty drawing pencil and begin drawing my next animal from the phylum—
Arthropoda. I begin with a basic drawing of a spider and then begin adding details, turning something minimal—consisting of eight legs and a body, into a wolf spider.

"What the hell?" Evan whispers beside me.

"What?" I turn my attention from my notecard to him.

"What do you mean what?
Zoey, I didn't know…seriously…a wolf spider…great…just great…mine looks like complete shit compared…" he rambles.

I love it when Evan's flustered instead of me. I peer over the table to get a closer look at what he's drawing. He quickly wraps his arms protectively around his work.

"Come on, Evan. It can't be that bad."

"Says Van Gogh," he teases, covering his work even more.

I reach over and start to pry his arms away. As soon as I touch him, I feel that all too familiar surge of electricity and my body hums.

He's just a friend. He's just your friend. Nothing more,
never will be.

I push the way it feels as I touch him aside and continue to pull at his arms, trying desperately to get a peek at his masterpiece.

"I don't think so, Zoey. No way. You'll just make fun of my lack of art skills."

"Evan, I swear I won't. Just show it to me, please?" I give him my best pouty puppy dog look.

I tug a little more, and slowly but surely, he relinquishes and his arms pull away. He grabs the index card and thrusts it towards me. "Here, just don't…just don't laugh. We can't all draw as well as you."

"I won't. I promise." I take the index card from him and look at it.

And look at it.

And look at it.

"Just give it back," he demands, his hand reaching for the card.

I pull it back out of his reach, "Nope, I don't think so.
Your…um…spider …it's…um…very…very cute." A small giggle escapes my mouth.

Evan tears the index card from my hand and sits back in his chair pouting.

God, he is so gorgeous when he pouts.

Get it together,
Zoey. He's just your friend. He sees you only as his friend.

I might have to invest in one of those subliminal tapes that have that mantra playing on loop while I sleep…
Evan is your friend, Evan thinks of you as a friend, only a friend, you're lucky he's your friend…blah, blah, blah.
I take a deep breath, steady myself, and reach out and touch his shoulder. My hand tingles.

"Evan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Look, let me see it again, and I promise I won't…" I offer.

"Laugh?" He quirks an eyebrow.

I cross my heart as a peace offering.

After deliberating for like a second, Evans hands over his rendition of a spider. I stare at it, and the longer I do, I fall in love with it. I fall in love with it because, first, Evan drew it, second, it is really cute, and third, it just proves that Evan is, well, Evan—not some perfect guy—he has imperfections, like the inability to draw.

I wonder if…

"Zoey, you can keep it if you want." He nudges me with his shoulder.

How did
he…

"Evan, it's for your assignment—I couldn't." As much as I really want it, just to have a piece of him with me always, I couldn't.

"Zoey, seriously, if you want it, take it. I can easily draw another one. I mean, it might take me
days,
but the look on your face right now, I want you to keep it. So keep it. No biggie." He shrugs his shoulders and nudges me again encouraging me to keep the drawing.

"Keep it," he insists.

"Well, if you think you can make another one so easily…Fine, I'm keeping it."

He nods and I do a little happy dance in my head.

"Oh, and Evan, I think your spider is really cute."

And I think you're really cute too.
Beyond cute actually, beautiful even.

"Now that you've said that, you can definitely keep it. I need to draw a
more manly spider."

He grabs another index card and begins drawing another spider. I stare at the one I have in my hands a little while longer and then slide it into my folder, knowing that as soon as I get home, it's going on my bulletin board in my room. The two of us continue working on our drawings until the bell rings, signaling the end of class.
Damn bell.
I always want to disarm that bell. Biology is never long enough. I always want more—more time with Evan. It's never enough.

****

With my tray in hand, I navigate my way through the small, crowded cafeteria. A streak of almost jet black hair becomes my guide to my table—our table.

I can remember the first day of school. I was so panicked when it came time for lunch because I had no idea who I was going to sit with. The option of sitting alone didn't sit so well, churning my stomach. Those who sat alone at lunch were usually the social outcasts—I didn't want to be perceived as a social outcast. I can recall fidgeting with my tray in hand, my eyes scouring the room for a familiar face, when I spotted him—Evan.

My eyes zero in on him while my heartbeat quickens its pace, and my breathing hitches when he notices me staring at him. I instantly feel my skin break out in a cold sweat, having been caught. His lips twitch and pull into a dazzling smile. I feel my skin heat up. Then, like a dream, he waves me over. On instinct, I turn around to make sure it is really me he was calling over. I look to my left, and then my right, and I am alone. My gaze turns back to him, and Evan is shaking his head, his smile growing more beautiful. I hesitantly, start to make my way to him—my fingers turning white as I grip my tray, holding on for dear life. When I reach his table, I recognize a few more faces, and an empty seat beside Evan. Little did I know, on that day I met my lunchtime family.

"Hi,
Zoey." Gabbie smiles at me as I take my seat—a seat that's been mine since that first day.

"Hey,
Gabbie," I return, carefully setting my tray down.

My little lunchtime family consists of
Gabbie, Ty, Chelsea, Jason, Amber, myself and Evan. Several conversations carry on at once, and I try to take part in all of them, but it's not easy. Evan leans in to me. "I'm gonna go grab a cookie, you want one?" His warm breath tickles my ear, and my body starts to tingle.

"No, thanks," I manage to answer as he scoots his chair back and makes his way to the lunch line.

Chelsea abandons her chair and takes Evan's. "So, you and Evan, huh?"

"What?" I whip my head around, confusion and embarrassment probably marring my features.

"I mean, you guys have a thing, don't you?" Chelsea pries.

"A thing?"
Could she know? Does she know about my crush? Am I that obvious?

Oh my God. If Chelsea notices, maybe Evan does too.

My body heats up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I mean, you guys are sort of dating, aren't you?" Chelsea continues her line of embarrassing questioning.

I start to choke, and instantly all eyes are one me. I raise my hand, and I manage to get out an "I'm good." After my spaz attack, I answer Chelsea's question. "Evan and I are just friends. We are not dating.
Just friends."

Chelsea scoots closer. "Really, 'cause I thought…" Chelsea begins, but I immediately interrupt her.

"You thought wrong, Chelsea. We're just friends—nothing more. Why would you think…"

Now, it's Chelsea's turn to cut me off. "I just thought…I don't know…you guys seem close, like really close…like couples close. I didn't want to…if you guys were something…more…" Her words fade.

"Chelsea, do you…um…like Evan or something?" As I ask her, I feel my heart sink.

She blushes.
"A little. Maybe. I don't know. Evan just seems…" Chelsea gets that dreamy look in her eyes—a look I am all too familiar with.

Shit.

My heart sinks even further. "Chelsea, we're just friends."

"
Who's just friends?" Evans voice cuts through our private conversation.

"Um…" I utter, unsure what else to say and turn to Chelsea for help.

"Just girl talk; no boys allowed," Chelsea offers.

Evan looks to me for further information. "Yep,
girl talk," I confirm, my skin blazing.

Evan shrugs and sits in Chelsea's abandoned seat. I let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Nice save, huh? Anyway, if you guys are just friends, then you won't mind if I…if I see if Evan's interested in me? You know, maybe ask him out or something?" Chelsea's voice is filled with hope. I think my heart just left the building.

Hopeful?
Chelsea doesn't need to feel hopeful. She's beautiful, and smart, and funny. Evan will definitely go out with her. No hope needed. What do I do, though? Do I lie and tell her no, I seriously doubt he'd be interested at all—ever. Or, do I push aside my feelings for Evan, since there's absolutely no
hope
for anything more, and tell her to go for it? Right now, I totally hate my life.

"We're just friends, Chelsea. If you
wanna ask him out, then ask him out." I try to be indifferent.