Ink (10 page)

“
No, sir,” Tucker said, sitting up. Mr. Rudner returned to what he was doing, which was writing down the rules on the board. Tucker slid a paper across the table to me.

What’s your favorite ice cream?

I scribbled
vanilla,
and shoved it back.

He nodded, jotting something else down and sliding it over again.

I stared down at the paper.
Cone or cup?

I sighed, was he really asking me these mindless things right now? I wondered if he had an attention problem. I was sure I was going to fail biology at this rate.

Why does it matter?

Tucker took a little longer jotting his answer this time. I waited, going back to the board to make sure Mr. Rudner didn’t catch on. I didn’t want to be in trouble on the first day. I never was one to get in trouble at school. It was simple enough to follow simple rules.

I get the feeling watching you lick an ice cream cone would be hot
.


My stomach fluttered. And then I jumped inches off my seat as Mr. Rudner’s hand crashed down on the desk, stealing the note. Tucker didn’t seem to care. But I did.

Mr. Rudner walked to the front of the class.

“
Mr. Sinclair, come up here and share what was so fascinating that
you had to interrupt my class.”

Lydia smirked, completely amused with my embarrassment.

Tucker stood up.

“
I apologize, it won’t happen again,” I spoke up. Everyone in the class turned to me now, my cheeks warmed. I needed to keep him from reading this in front of the class. I would never live it down.

Tucker took the note from Mr. Rudner. He gave a little stretch, and then cleared his throat.

“
Sir, maybe an explanation would be better than verbatim?”

“
Off you go, Mr. Sinclair,” Mr. Rudner said, not budging.

Tucker cleared his throat. “What’s your favorite ice cream? Vanilla. Cone or cup? Why does it matter?” I literally cringed. “I get the feeling it would be hot watching you lick a cone.”

The class burst into laughter, some boys hooting and hollering. I even caught a couple perverted eyes in my direction. Tucker smirked, tossing the paper in the trash and taking his seat next to me.

Mr. Rudner wrapped his ruler against his desk, ending the laughter. Silence consumed the room. “Extracurricular activities, Mr. Sinclair, are to not be discussed in my room. Do you understand me?”

Tucker nodded. I gave a nod, not even allowing Mr. Rudner to ask me the same thing. He returned to the board. Once his back was to us I kicked Tucker under our desk. He grinned, and then shrugged his shoulders as to say
what are you going to do?

The bell rang, releasing me from first period. Tucker grabbed my biology books, carrying them with his. “Sorry about that.”

I stared up at him as I hugged my backpack to my chest. “I’m slowly getting past it. What’s your next period?”

He took his schedule out of his back pocket. “Sociology, Mrs. Long. Or as everyone else likes to call her, Mrs. Legs.”

I fiddled with my schedule, realizing we were in the same class again. A couple guys shoved past me. “I guess I am stuck with you another period,” I said, feeling a tad happy and a tad disappointed to have to deal with his short attention span again. “By the way, not to be rude, but are you supposed to be on Ritalin?”

Tucker laughed. “No. Mr. Rudner is just so boring. It’s hard to handle sitting there a whole period.”

I gave a nod, heading into Sociology.

The room was a bit different than any classroom I had ever seen before. Instead of chairs there were bean bags and mats on the floor.

“
What is this, preschool?” I asked Tucker.

The walls were lined with little cubbies and several enormous plants hung from all three windows. The classroom filled with a small group of rambunctious kids, everyone settling around the floor eagerly. I allowed Tucker to take my backpack and put it away. I stared around the room, confused.

Campbell grabbed my arm. “Hope, we’re in a class together!”

I smiled happily. Tucker took a seat on a bean bag. I sat down with Campbell. Tucker was busy chatting with one of his friends from the open house, a boy with shoulder length black hair. He wasn’t really that much to look at compared to Tucker, so I barely noticed anything that great about him.

“
I’m so glad you’re here. Biology was so embarrassing,” I said under my breath to Campbell. She made herself comfortable in her own beanbag. I opted out of the beanbags and decided sitting Indian style on the floor was good enough for me.

“
I might have heard something.” She smirked.

“
That quick,” I asked in awe.

“
Word travels fast at Ashwilder, or any school for that matter.” Campbell shrugged as the door opened. The group hushed as a tall, leggy blonde made it into the room. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and a sheer white blouse, her black bra apparent underneath. I raised an eyebrow. Since when were schools so slack on dress code?

“
Morning boys and girls,” she said coyly. She set her purse on her desk, and instead of sitting in her seat, she sat on top of the desk, crossing her long tan legs, her red high heels catching my attention.

“
How was summer?” she asked everyone.

I swallowed hard, feeling like I was part of some weird cult where we all sat on the ground worshiping this early thirties blonde goddess.

She brought a big black coffee mug up to her red lips, staring over the brim at me. “You, what’s your name?” she asked, taking a sip.

“
Hope,” I said, feeling self conscious.”

She nodded her head heavily. “I’m Mrs. Long, but you can call me Mrs. Legs.” Her eyes were crystal blue and piercing my aura as she blew on her coffee. I gave her a nod;
I was so not calling her Mrs. Legs
.

“
I saw you this summer on the beach, Mrs. Long,” Tucker pointed out. I turned. He was smiling ear to ear, his body on display for all to see. I wished I could always be as comfortable as he was all the time.

Mrs. Long hopped down from the desk, taking some papers as she went. “I know you did, Tuck. Those were nice swimming trunks, by the way.” She winked at him,
actually
winked at him. I shot Campbell a look. She was just as mesmerized with Mrs. Long as everyone else was.

“
So, Hope, are you more a bikini or one piece girl?” she asked, handing out papers to each of us.

I shook my head. “Excuse me? What does my bathing suit attire have to do with sociology?”

The class laughed.

Mrs. Long stood over me now. She handed me a paper with rules and regulations. I wondered if there were even any rules for this odd class.

“
I say bikini,” Tucker commented from the peanut gallery.

Campbell laughed along with the class.

“
I like to make my class fun. Sociology is the time to talk about everything. Nothing is off limits in here.” She moved to Campbell, handing her a paper. “My only rule is whatever goes on in here does not leave here.”

I couldn’t believe the school would hire such a slack teacher.
This was becoming more and more bizarre by the minute.

I raised a hand. “So if Tommy wanted to bring beer to school, that would be okay?”

The class laughed, finding me amusing yet again today. Tucker slid his bean bag next to me, his leg pressing against my knee. “I think what she’s saying is this is the class to learn and have fun. She doesn’t make rules as long as we act like civilized human beings.” He shot a smile at Mrs. Long.

“
That’s right, Tuck. Oh, and one other thing.” She ran a hand through her sun bleached hair “Don’t piss me off and we will be just fine. If you don’t believe me, ask my husband.” Her eyes met mine and held them for a couple seconds before she formed a dainty little smile.

I looked at the clock, begging it to speed up and get me away from this woman.

School was over for the day and I was glad. Eight periods full of all kinds of teachers. I was glad tomorrow was a day off. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to such a unique school. I gathered my clothes from the locker room of my dance class. The one Lynette, Tucker’s mom, taught. She was probably my only means of sanity in this school. She was so warm and sweet.

“
Good job today, Hope,” she told me, spraying disinfectant on the rails.

I zipped up my bag, coming back into the classroom. “Thanks.”

She did a fast swipe down the rail. “Are you enjoying school?”

I shrugged. “I really don’t know yet, it’s the first day.”

She nodded, agreeing with me. “Well, if you ever need anything I’m always here for you. You show a lot of promise as a dancer.”

I said goodbye, pushing out the school doors into the warm sunshine. I felt like I was immersed in artificial sun all day and finally back in real life.

Lydia and Campbell drove past me as I walked down the sidewalk. I was almost the last of the kids to leave. The only ones left were the kids busy in the library looking for books to read.

Someone let out a loud cat call. I turned to see Tucker leaning against his jeep with a couple friends. He waved me over. I had really hoped he’d left. I was content on the walk home. I was craving the walk home, actually.

“
It’s okay, I think I’ll walk,” I said, giving a weak smile. I did my best to pass by without any eye contact. The less I looked at him, the better chance of getting off the hook.

Tucker pushed off the jeep. He quickly got in front of me, blocking my path. I nearly stepped on his toes, coming to a stop. “Tucker, its really okay. I could use the fresh air.” I tried going around him, but he only grabbed my arm, his hand sliding down to mine, and then he slipped his fingers between mine. Another rush of butterflies whirled inside me.

“
Then I guess I’m walking too.” He told his friends goodbye, following me along the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, just let me walk. Finally, I gave in with a sigh. “Why are you so nice to me?”

“
My mother told me to always be nice to pretty girls,” he said teasingly.

My mind was back to the brief couple of seconds that we were holding hands. No matter what I tried I couldn’t get it out of my head. He knew how to drive a girl mad.

“
No, seriously, why are you always so nice to me?” I had to have an answer. Not some flirtatious joke. I wanted an answer. I was new in town, but my emotions weren’t. I had absolutely no experience when it came to boys and relationship type stuff. But I did have common sense, or so I thought.

Tucker ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just trying to get to know you. Maybe that’s just who I am.”

I looked at him, searching for sincerity. “Honest?”

He nodded, looking genuine enough, or maybe it was the stunningly good looks blinding my perception. “I like that you’re not from here. I like that you’re the new girl who has no idea about me. It’s a relief.”

I smiled. I really liked that answer.

“
So, once I walk you home, how about I come back by with my jeep and we can go get ice cream,” he said as we hit the beach, the beach houses minutes away.

“
Alright, sounds good. Gives me a chance to tell Dad where I’ll be too,” I agreed. I had to admit, I was a bit excited to be doing anything with Tucker.

“
Okay. So I’ll see you in about ten minutes.” He took off, running across the sand back toward the school.

Smitty’s was the popular hangout on the shore for teens. All the kids came to Smitty’s for frozen yogurt, ice cream or hamburgers. It wasn’t much to look at, not big enough to go inside. It was a small hut with about five picnic tables with red and white striped umbrellas.

I ran my tongue across my ice cream. The heat was making it melt quickly and I didn’t want to be a sticky mess. Tucker handed over a handful of napkins, sitting down next to me on the picnic table.

“
I swear I’m not looking.” He laughed, working on his cone with intensity. He straddled the bench, leaving me between his legs. I didn’t mind, it felt nothing more than normal anymore to be in close proximity to Tucker.

I rolled my eyes, doing my best to hurriedly eat. Now that the topic was back to my tongue I was starting to feel a bit shy all over again.

“
So what did you do back home?” Tucker questioned. I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, making sure I wasn’t messy before I answered.

“
A lot of dance lessons, played the piano and hung out with my best friend, Karsen.” I trailed my finger around the edge of my cone, collecting the melted ice cream and licking it from my finger.

Tucker’s eyes lit up as he watched my every move. “Are you going to show me your moves?” he smirked teasingly.

“
I only dance with boys that have rhythm.” I smiled.

He moved a little closer, his inner thigh close enough that I could feel the heat from his skin, “Ask anyone, I have rhythm.”