Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) (8 page)

“What’s
he
doing here?”

“He gave up his Saturday morning and drove all the way here to cheer us on. Isn’t that sweet?” Erin waved back.

“Uh-huh.”

I have never been able to get Matt to go to anything I have ever participated in: bake sales, school plays, talent shows, and forget about asking him to come to something academic. For an event that even hinted at education he wouldn’t even bother to lie and say
‘maybe.’
And yet here he was.  It was clear Matt wasn’t here to cheer us on; he was here to see his
girlfriend
. A butterfly of jealousy fluttered through my belly.

The format chosen for the challenge is what’s known as a countdown round. Ten three-contestant teams stand at ten podiums. A problem is flashed up on a projector screen. A member from each team is chosen to answer the problem. You had three minutes to answer correctly.

Mrs. Brewster offered a few words of encouragement before leaving the three of us on stage and joining the others in the audience.

“Okay, I will decide who gets what question,” Tran said as soon as she was gone.

“Shouldn’t we talk about it? You don’t want to give anyone a question they can’t answer.”

“We studied this stuff. If you were paying attention, you could answer any question. Don’t blow this for us, Barnett.”

I was about to tell him it wasn’t me who was going to blow it, when the first question flashed up on the screen.

“I got it,” said Guy the moment the problem appeared. He hit the bell.
Ding!

“But—”

“I got it!” He repeated.  He shot Tran a defiant stare.

“Cool,” said Tran, although I could tell he wasn’t pleased. “Knock it out.”

Guy and four others got the problem right. We were on our way.

We each answered our questions correctly, and one by one, teams began falling by the wayside.

I was surprised at how many people showed up for the event. It wasn’t a full house, but there was a nice crowd cheering each time one of their sons, daughters, or classmates got something right. As schools began dropping out the cheering actually increased, as fans started choosing their favorites among those who remained.

The overwhelming favorite was Guy.

While most of the contestants worked frantically as they raced to figure out the problems, Guy breezed through his at a relaxed pace. And he was always the first one finished. It was as if he already knew what was coming.

The audience noticed his cool demeanor and bad boy charm and gravitated toward it. The biggest nerds in the county were in that audience, and this cool, handsome genius was one of them. I’m sure they all conjured up visions of themselves as suave and debonair, with easy-going smiles, yet smart as a whip. When they looked at Guy, they no longer saw themselves as goofy, geeky math nerds. They became polished, confident, and hip.  They cheered him on with gusto.

Finally, it was down to two schools, Glendale and Maricopa. For two rounds in a row, both schools answered all three questions correctly, and the room filled with tension. The Proctor called for a sudden-death round. Each school would put up its best competitor to tackle one killer problem. The first to answer correctly would be the champion.

Maricopa huddled over who to send up against us.

“I should go,” Tran said suddenly. We looked at him, stunned.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m captain. We’re all good. But I studied harder.”

Maricopa chose Ben Webster, who was clearly their best. The wait was on as we continued to huddle.

“I think Guy should go,” I said.

“That’s ‘cause you’re in love with him!” snapped Tran.

“What?”

“I see through you, Megan Barnett.”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a slow chant bubbled up in the crowd.
“Guy, Guy, Guy, Guy.”
We three looked at one another, not sure what to make of it. It was as if Guy had hypnotized them all.

“It’s a trick,” stammered Tran. “They want us to lose.”

We all knew that wasn’t true. As the moments passed the chanting began to build, until it seemed everyone: friends, strangers, even teachers were enthusiastically chanting the name:
“Guy, Guy, GUY.”

“I got this,” Guy said softly.

“But—”

He stepped forward. Rousing, boisterous applause filled the auditorium. It was as if he’d already won.

The problem chosen was a form of math called combinatorics. It was a mind-boggling problem whose answer would be a complicated mathematical equation. Guy completed it in two minutes flat. The crowd didn’t wait for the proctor to check his work and tell him if he was right. The moment he hit the bell, they broke into thunderous applause, amid more chants of
Guy, Guy, Guy, Guy, Guy...

#

We won.

We were carried out of the auditorium on waves of applause. I’d been to my share of math challenges, but never before had I witnessed the good-natured well wishes we received from all the competitors for winning. Because of Guy, we had achieved a geek version of rock star status.

I sat in the back between Tran and Guy on the bus ride home. As the bus pulled out of the lot we sang, “Who Let The Dogs Out”and then, “We Are The Champions.”

Erin came back and congratulated us. “You rocked! Matt and I were the ones leading the Guy cheers.”

Gradually the bus quieted. It was a stressful day, and many of the others began nodding off on the ride home. But not us. We were still feeding off the adrenaline that had fired us through the event.

“I’m captain.” Tran’s words came from a dark place.

“Not this again,” I squawked. “We won! Get over yourself.”

“I could have done that problem. Next time I decide,” is all he said before getting up and squeezing in next to Geoffrey.

Guy and I were finally alone. At first I didn’t notice; I was still concerned over Tran’s sudden departure.

“Let him go,” Guy said. “He’ll get over it.” He smiled and touched my arm. A jolt of electricity shot through me.

“Yeah. He will.” My belly fluttered.

“Actually, I’m glad he’s gone.” Guy’s knee brushed mine. He grinned at me, waiting for a response.

“Umm… I guess he just wanted to be the hero.”

“There can only be one hero,” he crooned softly, and he touched my hand.

Another jolt. No, bigger. Because of Guy’s touch, an electrical storm was raging inside me.

“Yeah.” The word fell from my lips, a soft tremor.
Get a grip, Megan! This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“And to the victor goes the spoils. Right?”

Huh? What does that mean? He leaned in.

“Right?” he repeated, his breath on my face.

“Yes… Right.”

He kissed me. At first his lips softly caressed mine, but then it slowly deepened.
He’s kissing me,
I thought.
Guy Matson is kissing
….
me!
And what a kiss. It was as if we were on a cloud somewhere and…

“Guy Matson and Megan Barnett...”

The voice of Mrs. Brewster brought me down from my cloud, and back to the little yellow school bus. I realized then my eyes had been closed. I opened them. Mrs. Brewster was standing in front of us, arms folded across her chest, looking not too happy.

“Separate! Now!”

Technically, I had my first kiss five years ago. Everyone thinks I did. We were at Erin’s tenth birthday party. The adults left us alone in the room, and someone suggested we play Seven Minutes In Heaven. Seven Minutes In Heaven is a kissing game. A boy and girl are selected to go into the closet and spend seven minutes kissing—in heaven, get it?

Someone suggested I go in the closet with Erin’s next door neighbor, Percy. Okay, it wasn’t someone, it was Erin. Percy was this really cute eleven-year-old who smelled of cookies and dirt.  I’d been crushing on him all summer.

Percy and I entered the closet and shut the door behind ourselves. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was about to spend seven… make that six and a half minutes in heaven with a really cute boy.  Inside the closet was dark. I could no longer see Percy. But I could hear him breathing.

“Um… Megan? Do you like me?” he whispered.

“Uh-huh.” The grunt was all I could muster with my heart thundering in my chest. But it seemed we both liked each other. It was time to get the tonsil hockey started. I didn’t care that my seven minutes had been reduced to five and a half. I was about to experience my first kiss.

“Percy?”

“Huh?”

“This is my first kiss, too,” I said to ease the tension.

“It is? Wow.”

Did he just chuckle?
I was irritated. “What do you mean
wow?
This is your first kiss, isn’t it?”

“Heck no! I kiss girls all the time.”

I was certain he was lying. This was his first kiss, too—unless you counted his Labrador retriever. “Well, Mr. Professional Kisser,” I said with a bit more sarcasm than intended. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

More silence. Percy was clearly an idiot. But I’d gone into that closet to experience my first kiss; there was no way I was coming out empty handed.

Just then, from the other side of the door: “Ten, nine, eight…”

“What’s that?” I asked, nervousness creeping into my voice.

“The countdown.”

“Kiss me!” I said in frantic a loud whisper.

I felt Percy getting closer, closer. I closed my eyes, puckered up.

Percy planted a wet one in the center of my forehead.
My forehead!

“…three, two, one.” The closet door yanked open. Percy and I exited amid loud cheers. Percy swooned and fanned himself while displaying a devilish grin. This prompted more, raucous cheers. Erin smiled at me and squealed “I knew it! I knew it!”

I winked at her. What else could I do? They were treating me as if I was the world’s greatest kisser. If I revealed that Percy was a fraud who was too scared to give me a real kiss, I’d lose my star status.

“You go, Hot Lips,” someone called. It was a nickname that lasted all summer.

#

HowToKiss.info
is a really cool website where girls, boys, even adults go to share their first kiss experiences. I enjoy dropping by the site. First kisses are important.

Even though Guy Matson was not my first kiss, when our lips touched, I knew in that moment that I had never been kissed before. When the kiss ended, there was a stinging in my lower lip. I realized that, as he was drawing away, his front teeth sank gently into the soft flesh and bit down.

Now, as I ran my tongue along the spot, I could still taste the salty sweetness of my own blood. It excited me all over again.

Sunday morning I was still reeling from the kiss—among other things—when Matt stopped by.

“You got kicked off the mathletes?”

That was the other things.  

When Mrs. Brewster discovered us kissing, in addition to separating us, she kicked us both off the team.

“Hey, no biggy,” I said, puffed up with fake bravado. “Who wants to hang out with a bunch of math geeks anyway?”

“What happened to your lip?”

“Bit it,” I said hurriedly, hoping my cheeks weren’t blushing red. “So, I see you spoke to
Erin
.” I said changing the subject. I knew it had to be her who blabbed. She was the only other person who knew.

He nodded. “What did Suze say? She must have hit the roof.”

“No, she did not hit the roof.” I was starting to get annoyed. “First off, she was happy that we won; secondly, she was pleased to hear that Guy is a math genius; and three—”

“You didn’t tell her.” His eyes widened.

“Three…” I continued, “she felt the team was interfering with my—”

“You didn’t
tell
her!” A cat that ate the canary smile appeared on his lips. “Wow, Megan!”

“You wanna hear number three or don’t you?”

“You didn’t tell your mother you got caught kissing a boy and were kicked off the mathletes.”

“Yet! I haven’t told her
yet
. See, that’s the difference between you and me. I wouldn’t ruin my mother’s day off with some bad news that can obviously wait.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You guys are so close. You used to tell her everything.” He moved to the pantry just off my mom’s office, where he grabbed the Tupperware cereal dispenser of Cheerios, and began popping Os into his mouth as if they were candy. Matt had been helping himself to snacks in our house since he was little. Cheerios were his favorite.

“I’m going to tell her. Just… not yet. By the way, do you really like Erin?” I said, changing the subject again. “I mean, the nerve of her, asking you to give up your Saturday to come to a math meet.” I chuckled. “Like you’re interested in math.”

“Going was my idea.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to see you guys in action.”

“Look Matt, Erin’s my friend. I don’t want to see her get hurt. I know dating one of the Brainy Bunch has been cool for a few weeks, but I’m sure you need to get back to your own kind. And the longer this goes on, the more it’s going to hurt when you dump her.”

“I’m not going to dump Erin. I like her,” he said softly. “A lot.”

An awkward silence arose between us. We stood looking at each other, suddenly strangers. I’d known Matt since kindergarten. He and Erin were my best friends, yet somehow the idea of them dating was starting to rub me the wrong way.

“Okay… good. Glad to hear it.”

“So, what are you gonna do about getting kicked off the mathletes?” He seemed concerned.

“Nothing. It was getting old for me anyway.”

He nodded. “Okay. So when are you going to tell Suze?”

“What do you care? Tomorrow,” I replied with a hint of annoyance. I knew it was a lie the moment the word left my lips.

#

Monday morning when I arrived at school, talk of my school bus escapade was circulating campus like a brush fire sprung up in dry weeds. I couldn’t get away from the sidelong stares, sneaky smiles, “way to go’s,” or the word “tramp” trailing me like a shadow.

For my part, I enjoyed the notoriety. In my eleven years of being a student, I had never gotten in trouble, never had a note sent home, never been sent to the principal’s office. I found the bad girl image that followed me liberating. The goody two shoes were off, and I liked the fit of the bad-girl boots.