The Pledge (3 page)

Bree shrugged. “It's probably just a mistake,” she said. “Do we have any classes together?” We had been so busy catching up with our friends before coming into the auditorium that we hadn't even bothered to check.

It turned out we had lunch and dance class together, which I found funny since Bree was definitely not the dance type. She tripped over her own feet with every other step she took.

“Why'd you sign up for dance?” I asked, noticing our principal was finally wrapping up.

“The only other options were band, PE or ROTC. Can you see me doing any of those?” she asked.

“Good point,” I said. “Well, I'll just help you with the dances.”

“Of course you will,” she said. “Just like I'll help you with math.”

“Whatever,” I said, and we laughed. We were both straight-A students.

Bree and I had known each other since fifth grade, but it wasn't until freshman year that we really clicked. We had both gotten stuck taking band for some reason, and we spent a lot of time talking about ourselves and our families. We got to know each other really well, and I told her pretty much everything. Whereas I was into sports, Bree was more creative. She was on the yearbook staff, and she was a regular contributor to the school newspaper and creative-writing magazine.

“Where are you headed after homeroom?” she asked, as kids began to gather their things so they could leave.

“I'm supposed to go to English, but I have to straighten out my schedule first,” I said.

“Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch,” she said.

I nodded and waved.

I almost didn't make it to homeroom on time because kids kept stopping me to say hello. I slid into my seat just as the bell rang, then listened to another long list of instructions before our teacher, Ms. Ross, passed out cards for us to fill out our emergency information. Once that was done, I asked her if I could leave early to get my schedule changed, and she agreed.

It turned out to be a waste of my time since all the other classes were full.

English class was just about to start when I walked in, so I dropped in the first seat I saw, which happened to be at the front of the room. I grabbed a pen from my purse, and just as I was uncapping the pen, the top flew off. I reached down to get it and bumped heads with someone who was also reaching for it.

“Thank you,” I said, looking up for the first time. My heart went into overdrive because staring back at me was Allen Benson. “What are you doing here?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He laughed, and I blushed.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” I said. “It's just that this is a junior class, and you're a senior.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” he joked.

“You don't like being a senior?” I asked. That's all Bree and I talked about. The seniors ruled the school, and with that title came a world we could only dream about—dating, driving, prom, applying to college.

“Not when I have to double up on my English classes since I failed this one last year. If I want to graduate, I've got to take them both.”

“Why didn't you just go to summer school?” I asked, not believing I was talking with Allen Benson—the Allen Benson.

“I was in basketball camps all summer,” he said, “so I couldn't go.”

“I wasn't supposed to take this class until next semester, but I think it'll be fun. I love reading.”

“I might have to get you to tutor me,” he said.

“Not a problem,” I said, hoping I sounded confident, although inside I was sweating at the thought of spending time alone with him.

I stuck out my hand. “I'm Courtland Murphy, and you are?”

He gave a little laugh and engulfed his paw around my hand. “Cute. I'm Allen Benson. Nice to meet you, Miss Courtland. By the way, I like your outfit.”

Before I could respond, our teacher started class. “Good morning, students. I hope you all had a great summer.”

Ms. Watters glanced around the room, which was decorated in pink and green. “I see many of you remember my rules from last year.” I looked around in confusion, and Ms. Watters explained, “Wherever you sit on the first day of school is where you sit the entire semester.”

I groaned to myself. I hated sitting in the very front of the room since it made me an easy target for getting called on. It's not that I didn't know the answers—usually I did—but I didn't want kids to think I was as smart as I was. I had been teased enough for that in elementary school. I glanced over at Allen, and he was smiling at me.

“Did you know what she was going to do?” I asked when Ms. Watters went to her desk. He nodded. “So, why'd you sit in the front?”

“I figured if I was up here, maybe I'd pass the class.”

I nodded in understanding before I focused on Ms. Watters, who had started passing out the syllabus for the semester. It was printed on pink and green paper, and I assumed she was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority, which was confirmed when I spotted an AKA mug on her desk. As I took a sheet and passed the rest of the stack back, Allen slid me a piece of notebook paper.

I tried to pretend I wasn't fazed as I waited for Ms. Watters to get to the other side of the room before I opened it.

I GUESS YOU'RE STUCK WITH ME, it read, and I couldn't help but smile. I had never looked forward more to an English class in my life.

When I met Bree for lunch, I was still carrying around Allen's note like it was a Grammy award.

“Girl,” I said the minute I spotted her, “you will never guess who's in my English class.” I grabbed her arm and dragged her to the cafeteria line where Bree got a burger and fries and I picked up a salad. I didn't even get annoyed for the thousandth time that Bree could eat whatever she wanted without gaining weight.

“Are you going to tell me?” Bree asked, getting excited.

“I can show you better than I can tell you,” I said as we made our way to our table. We put down our trays, and I grabbed my purse and pulled out my wallet where I had safely tucked Allen's note. I passed it to Bree, who struggled to read the tiny writing.

“Who's it from?” she asked after finally deciphering it.

“Guess,” I said.

“Courtland,” Bree wailed, “just tell me.”

I pretended to shoot a basket, and after a second Bree caught on. “No,” she said, her eyes growing wide.

I nodded and grinned. “Yes,” I said.

“Allen Benson gave this to you?” she squealed.

I didn't say a word as I added dressing to my salad.

“Girl, I am so jealous. Tell me everything, and don't leave out any details.”

I hadn't gotten far before other members of Worth the Wait and some of the cheerleaders descended on the table. I gave Bree a look, letting her know I'd fill her in later. It's not that I didn't trust my other friends, but I didn't want to take any chances that people would be hating on me. I had been around enough females in general to know that they were messy and always looking for something to gossip about, so I kept my business to myself. That's something my momma had always told me, that whatever happened at home stayed there.

I looked at Allen's note about a hundred times more before school ended, and I thought about it through most of cheerleading practice although I nailed my toe touches and basket tosses. I guess Allen was training for basketball season because he was running around the track and looking so good in a pair of black shorts and a white T-shirt. He was drenched in sweat, which only made him look sexier. All the girls on the squad were talking about him, and I couldn't blame them.

As I was waiting for Momma to pick me up after practice, I looked at Allen's note again and smiled to myself, thinking how crazy it would be if we ended up dating. I couldn't help but laugh at the thought. There was no way Allen could be interested in me.

I glanced at my watch and noticed it was almost six o'clock. I realized I hadn't checked to see if Momma had left a message for me during practice, so I retrieved my phone.

Allen caught me off guard for the second time that day.

“You must have been reading my mind,” he said, causing me to drop my phone. He laughed as he picked it up and handed it to me. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's okay,” I said, holding on to the phone as tightly as I could with my slippery hands. “So how was I reading your mind?”

“When I saw you while I was running, I realized I didn't ask for your number during class. I was just thinking that if I saw you I was going to ask for it.”

I had stopped breathing when he said
number.
“My phone number?” I squeaked.

“Yeah,” he said, “if that's okay. I figured I need to have you on speed dial just in case I have a question about class.”

I tried not to let my disappointment show. He just wanted help with English. “Sure,” I said. “If you have a phone, I can program my number in for you.”

He shook his head. “I'd rather you write it down. That way, if my phone breaks, I'll still have it.”

“Okay,” I said, trying not to read anything into what he was saying. This was strictly about school, I kept telling myself, but obviously my stomach wasn't listening because it was doing flips like it was competing for the Olympic gold medal in gymnastics. I grabbed a notebook and a pen out of my bag and scribbled down my number.

“Give me your e-mail address, too,” he said.

I nodded and added it to the sheet, then tore it out of my notebook and handed it to him.

“I'll be in touch,” he said, folding the paper. He grabbed a set of keys from his gym bag, which was slung across his shoulder. “Hey, do you need a ride?”

Of course I wanted to say yes, but I knew Momma and Daddy would have a fit if I got in the car with a boy, so I played it off. “Nah, I'm cool. My ride will be here in a minute.”

“I don't bite,” he said, and I laughed.

“I know,” I said, twirling my Worth the Wait necklace, which I sometimes did when I got nervous. “Maybe I'll take you up on that offer some other time.”

“Maybe you should,” Allen said, stepping a little closer to me. I felt his breath on my cheek, and my heart sped up.

“That's a nice necklace,” he said. “Did your man give it to you?”

I laughed. “Actually, it's my purity necklace,” I said before I could stop myself. I blushed and looked at the ground, then glanced up at him to see his response.

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. “Yeah. My mom had me join this virgin club at my church, and each of the members got one of these necklaces.”

“I've heard about those clubs. I know a few other girls here are members. When did you join?”

“Last year,” I said. “I recruited some of the girls from school.” Allen made me feel so comfortable that I told him a few more details about Worth the Wait, and he seemed really impressed.

“So can guys join?” he asked.

“Sure. It's open to anyone who wants to take a vow of purity, although our group has mostly teenagers. I can get you more information if you want.”

Momma chose that moment to pull up, and, spotting me, she blew her horn and waved. I was so embarrassed.

“Is that your mom?” Allen asked.

I nodded, not believing my momma was messing up my game. She pulled up next to us and looked at Allen curiously. He smiled and walked up to her. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy. My name is Allen Benson. I was just keeping your daughter company while she waited for you.”

Momma smiled and shook his hand. “It's nice to meet you, Allen.” She stared at him for a second. “Haven't I seen you on TV?”

Allen shyly looked down at the ground. “Yes, ma'am,” he said.

“You're making quite a name for yourself, young man. I know your parents are proud.”

“They are,” he said.

Momma nodded. “And you're keeping up with your studies?”

“Momma,” I protested. I couldn't believe how she was grilling him like he was my man or something.

“Actually, that's what I was talking to your daughter about. I got behind in my classes last year, and I'm trying to play catch-up, and I was hoping she could tutor me in English.”

“You realize my daughter is only sixteen, and she can't date yet,” Momma said, looking him in the eye.

“Oh, no, ma'am,” Allen was quick to say, raising his hands and backing away like the thought of dating me repulsed him. “This is strictly about school. I was just telling her that I would call if I had any questions, and if it's okay with you, we can meet in the library during our study period so we can do our homework.”

Momma looked at him, trying to figure out if he was playing games. She must have believed him because she said, “I guess that will be fine. I don't know how much you guys will be able to get accomplished during an hour, so if you need to meet with her after school, I guess you could study at our house.”