Miss Taken (21 page)

I could hear Ned’s smirk as he said,
“Barefoot and coatless, huh? What about topless? Or bottomless?
Would you have done that for me?”

I swatted him hard, or tried to, but it was
awkward inside a car. On the recoil I managed to bang my knuckles
against the steering wheel which made the horn go off.

I rubbed my injured knuckles and tried not to
let any tears fall.

Then the most beautiful sound reached my
ears. Ned laughing.

Well, to be perfectly honest, at first I was
still a little pissed off about his jerky comments and thought he
might be laughing because I hurt myself.

But then he said, “Let’s get out of here,” in
the same way he did after the dance and I knew we were on the road
to making up.

And hopefully out.

Strange but true scientific fact: Fish do not
have ears.

The hum of the engine was the only sound in
the car for the first few minutes of the ride. Then Ned glanced at
me slyly as he reached for the radio dial. When the music came on,
it was the mix tape I had made him, starting right at the beginning
with “My Hero, Zero.” I wasn’t about to sing along this time, but
when it got to the part about “how wonderful you are, we could
never reach the stars,” I gave Ned a pointed look.

“So that was the complimentary part?”

“Yes! Yes, the whole thing is about how
wonderful and unappreciated a number it is!” Why were we going over
all this again?

The next song was Sheena Easton, “Telephone.”
Nearly forgot about that one. It was a little angry, but it was
exactly how I felt when he didn’t answer the phone all that first
weekend.

Ned was smirking again. “So, here you were
mad at me for not answering the phone?”

I grimaced. “You didn’t answer the phone
after...it happened.” That was all I was willing to say on the
subject.

“You didn’t leave me a message though.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“You sure called a lot for someone with
nothing to say.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that he was there
and just not answering. “So you were home?”

“The answer machine recorded all the
hang-ups. All fifteen of them.” Ned was giddy with the joy of
torturing me.

“I didn’t know it would do that,” I said
softly. To myself I added, At least he had kept track.

“We went to New York that weekend, by the
way. Or I should say, my mom proposed going at the last minute. She
wanted to take Sophie to a bunch of museums and so I tagged along.
I needed to get the hell out of town.”

As far as I was concerned, we had spent
enough time talking about Sophie for one day.

“Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?” came up next
and my finger itched to hit the ‘stop’ button. But I made it
through with only a minimal smirking from Ned. After that was
something sweeter, “Every Breath You Take.” When “Woman in Love”
came on, I sang along softly with the more pertinent parts even
though it is totally schmaltzy. If he had listened to my tape, and
I could tell he had, how could he have stayed unaffected by it for
an entire weekend?

“So did you go to New York this weekend too
and that’s why we aren’t going out until now?” I asked cockily.

Ned became serious suddenly. “No. It really
took all weekend for Sophie to convince me. And, if you recall, I
wasn’t totally convinced until about ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, yeah.” My poor, abused heart descended
several inches into my abdominal cavity. “Wait a sec. Sophie?”

“Yeah. You really should thank her.”

“Oh, well it’s a shame we didn’t give her a
lift today so I could have done that.” The sarcasm was dripping off
my bottom lip.

Ned gave me an eyebrow. “Seriously. She kept
telling me how sad you looked.”

Maybe she’s not such a bad kid after all.

“But that’s not what convinced me.”

We had arrived at the rez so I had to wait to
hear what it was that had convinced him while we parked. The rain
that had been threatening started. It was just spitting, but that
combined with the temperature didn’t make either of us want to get
out of the warm, dry car.

Ned killed the engine and the music stopped.
We now had uncomfortable silence and not even the excuse of passing
scenery or the road to pay attention to.

“So, what did Sof-ee say?” I was still having
trouble remembering to call her by her real name.

“She told me...” Ned stuck a knuckle in his
eye. I could barely believe my eyes. He was starting to cry.

I waited with bated breath to hear what
Sophie could have possibly said in my favor that moved him so
much.

“She said...she had fought with her brother
that morning about whose turn it was to clean up the breakfast
dishes. She said...” Ned poked his eyes again. “She said, she told
him that she hoped he would drown out there.”

The ping of sleet on the windshield was the
only sound in the car.

Ned cleared his throat and said, “She told me
not to ever waste time being angry with the people I love.”

That Sophie is one smart girl.

“So,” said Ned. “Did you really mean what you
said back at school?”

“Which part?”

“The part about walking home topless.”

“I didn’t say that...” I stopped because of
course he was just teasing me.

I knew what he was asking about. He was
talking about when I dropped the L-bomb.

I said to the window, “I meant everything I
said back at school.”

Ned put his hands on either side of my face
and turned it so I had no choice but to look at him. My heart
started racing. I will definitely be needing one of those
replacements soon.

“You love me, huh?”

Goose bumps broke out all over my body.
Thoughts of piloerection made my face heat up. Thinking about being
topless or bottomless right now made me blush even more. I was glad
I was completely covered. Not a good look for me in any case, but
with bumpy dry winter skin a definite no.

I nodded a little, which was hard to do with
him holding my head. He let go.

Damn. I was sure a kiss was in the cards
there.

He was looking at me in a funny way, kind of
stern, so I lamed out. “I mean, I think I do. It hurt so much when
you wouldn’t talk to me, or even look at me without that angry
brick-wall face. Which is kind of what you look like now, so please
stop.”

Ned nixed the bricks. He took my hand but
even this was awkward the way we were twisted in our seats. “Let’s
sit in the back,” he suggested.

In order to accomplish this, we had to get
out of the car in the rain and then push a lever to climb into the
back seat because the car was a two-door. Since we were hurrying to
avoid getting wet or letting too much cold air in, we managed to
bonk foreheads. Then we had to maneuver to close the doors, which
allowed me to hit the top of my skull on the roof of the car, and
then my chin on the headrest, thereby creating symmetrical bruising
on all sides of my head.

We sat there nursing our injuries for a few
seconds and then Ned said, “Allow me.” He took my battered cranium,
rubbed it for a second and then swooped in and kissed me.

It was possibly the sweetest kiss ever in the
history of the world.

I was willing for all discussion to end and
have this go on for the rest of our date, but Ned sat back to look
at me. “I missed you too, you and your electric blue eyes.”

Why in the heck did he have to bring that up?
I told myself to just be glad we were back together and not to
screw it up by saying anything recriminatory. I smiled silently and
- I hoped - pleasantly.

Ned continued, musing to himself aloud, “I’m
not sure what love is like - remember who my parents are - but I
really missed you. It could also be why I was so mad.”

Although it was not related to the present
topic of whether or not we loved each other, which was more
interesting for sure, the topic of his parents was also pretty
interesting.

“That reminds me. Your dad. You two look
exactly alike.”

Ned was thoughtful for a second. “You
think?”

“Definitely. If you could look in a magic
mirror that aged you twenty-five or thirty years, your dad is what
you would see.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “I hope you mean on the
outside only.”

“Of course, of course. You’re your own person
on the inside. But I just meant...after that story you told me, I
was expecting some blond Norwegian or something.”

Ned pouted. “Huh. I never noticed.”

We were on such good terms again, I didn’t
want to ruin to by making any rude eye movements. It was time to
steer this conversation back in the right direction. I leaned in to
get it started.

The windows were thoroughly fogged when Ned
said, “I hate to say it, but I have to be getting home.”

“Okay,” I answered, trying to keep the groans
of disappointment to a minimum.

As we drove home, “Leather and Lace” came up
on my mix tape that I was starting to regret ever having given to
him. I could see Ned glancing at me out of the corner of his eye,
lips twitching, desperate for a good smirk.

“So, tell me. If I decide to move to
Switzerland and take up goatherding, will you give me that lacy
shirt of yours?”

I glared at him.

He went on mercilessly, “What leather I could
trade for it?...Oh, of course, I’ll get you some lederhosen. You
know, so you can mix and match.” Ned sounded exactly like that
hyena from the first day of school. He was laughing so hard I was
afraid he was going to drive off the road.

Since we had only just patched things up, I
laughed along politely.

But seriously, that blouse is so pretty.

Ned could tell that I was not overly amused.
He cleared his throat. “I never got the leather and lace bit. What
are they, cross-dressers?”

This time I could laugh more genuinely. I
punched him playfully in the arm for making fun of my gal Stevie.
“Well, if you’re serious about not understanding, then I think it
means that she wants some his toughness and for him to take some of
her gentleness.”

Ugh. I sounded like a dork, interpreting the
song like some kind of reviewer. Why hadn’t I just laughed and left
it alone?

“Oh,” he said nodding, seeming to seriously
consider my explanation for a minute. Then he said, “But I kind of
liked picturing Don in a dress and Stevie in chaps and chains.”

This time I laughed along with him. At that
moment, I felt like my heart might burst for happiness. Thoughts of
spring break in New York City were the furthest thing from my
mind.

We spent every spare minute together that
week, including a date on Friday night. Ned wanted to go see a
movie at the multiplex at the mall. “I hate it that you went there
with that guy first.” He was back to avoiding saying Kyle’s
name.

Strange but true scientific fact: Male hippos
defecate and urinate during the courtship ritual. To make
themselves even more attractive, they use their tail as a fan to
spray it about.

I will definitely start carrying a poncho
whenever I leave the house.

I was even feeling kindly disposed enough
toward the world to ask Hannah if she wanted to meet for tutoring
on Saturday. She gave me the once over before saying, “Sure.
Great.”

I for one was totally willing to let the past
be forgotten, especially after my Friday night date with Ned. My
face was tingling pleasantly from being rubbed raw by his stubble.
If I concentrated hard enough, I could still feel his hand in the
back pocket of my jeans.

The only part I regretted was the greasy
fries that were also still with me.

“Hey!” I called out, extra-cheerful.

“Hey,” replied Hannah warily.

I guess we weren’t going to be able to just
drop it. I took the bull by the horns. “So, I don’t care that you
went out with Kyle. I mean, I did care, but I don’t now. I’m back
with Ned and don’t care one bit about Kyle.” There. Arrow-straight,
99% honest and only 1% bitter. Maybe even just 1/2%.

Hannah didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Then, “I know.”

Of course she knew. She always knows
everything.

“I mean it, so let’s just let bygones be
bygones and do some math.” I turned the pages in my book
energetically looking for where we had left off.

Hannah flipped open her book to a random page
without taking her eyes off me. She seemed to be on the verge of
saying something not math-related so I cut her off with: “So how
did you find the geometry?”

Thankfully Hannah decided to let the boys go
and talk angles instead.

We made it all the way through the hour
without straying from the topic of math. I was very relieved. It
will only get easier after this, I thought. As we were packing up I
said conversationally, “So, you doing anything tonight?” without at
all meaning to pry into her dating plans. Of course she took it the
wrong way.

“I’m not going out with Kyle, if that’s your
question.”

“I really meant what I said, he can go back
to his exotic island for all I care. He’s a decent lab partner in
biology, but Raj is over mono now so...” Hmm. That sounded a little
bitter.

“His exotic island? What are you talking
about?”

“Kyle told me he was from some place like
Tahiti or something.”

Hannah snorted and rolled her eyes. “What a
loser. He’s from Rhode Island.”

Her phrasing was little ambiguous. I hoped it
was ambiguous. I decided not to ask who the ‘loser’ was.

Hannah was still laughing to herself. “What
an idiot.”

This was going too far. “Okay, that’s enough,
don’t you think? Don’t forget this ‘loser idiot’ is helping you
with your math.”

Hannah put her hand on my arm, “I didn’t mean
you. I meant him.” She laughed some more. Even in ugly florescent
lighting, her golden tresses shimmer.