The Samantha Project (28 page)

“Haven’t you eaten today? Is your fridge empty again?” Her tone softened to one of a concerned mother. “Oh, you poor thang. I’ll get you some pancakes and eggs. Harold!” she yelled to an old guy behind the counter who was reading a newspaper. “Pancakes and two eggs, scrambled.” The man seemed annoyed but slowly put down his paper and headed toward the kitchen.

The waitress sat down across from me. “What’s with your hair today, Brittany? It’s a wavy mess. You just get out of bed? And what’s with those clothes? I never seen you in nothin’ but minis and short shorts.”

I decided to play along to see where this was going. “Yeah. I wanted to change my look a little. And I wasn’t feeling good this morning, so I slept in.” Angie looked concerned again. “Oh, but I feel fine now.”

“Angie! Coffee!” Harold yelled from the kitchen. I looked over to see the retirees all holding up their coffee cups. Angie raced up to get the coffee, then disappeared in the kitchen.
 

I sat there and looked out the window. Country music played softly in the background. It felt good to sit and relax for a moment. I thought about what Angie had said and tried to figure out what it meant. In such a small town, I couldn’t believe there was some girl who looked just like me.
 

Angie arrived with my plate of food. The pancakes were light and fluffy and the eggs were perfectly scrambled. My stomach growled at the sight and smell of real food.
 

Angie brought me a big glass of orange juice. Before she could sit down again, two new customers walked in. She walked over to greet them. “Hey there, boys. Haven’t seen you two for a while. Sit where you want. I’ll get ya’ll some coffee.”

The men sat down in the booth behind me. I was enjoying my pancakes too much to even look back. But I could feel their presence and I had a strong sense that I knew these men, or at least one of them. I couldn’t explain it. There was a familiarity that I didn’t understand. I considered that the men could be from GlobalLife, sent there to get me. Or maybe they were cops. I heard them talking and listened in on their conversation.

“I thought you didn’t like this diner.” The voice seemed to come from an older man. He didn’t have an accent like Angie’s, so I assumed he wasn’t originally from the area.
 

“I don’t know why I wanted to come here. I just had this urge to.” This time a younger man was speaking. “Maybe I was craving Harold’s greasy sausage and bad coffee,” he said, laughing.
 

As he spoke, I felt a strong sense that he was the one I knew and not the old man. I continued to listen in, but eventually lost interest when they started talking about sports. When I finished eating, I turned to glance behind me.
 

Before I could get a look, Angie was back to pick up my plate. “Wow, you must’ve been hungry. You usually just pick at your food—always worried ’bout your figure and lookin’ good for them boys.”

I smiled but said nothing.
 

“I’m gonna take these back to the kitchen and then I’m gonna grab my purse and take you to school. Don’t go tryin’ to run outta here either! You’re goin’ to school and if you don’t, I’ll be tellin’ your mother.”

She walked off. The men behind me stopped talking. I felt it would be too obvious to turn back and look at them. But my feeling of familiarity toward the young guy was getting even stronger. Angie brought their food over, her purse slung over one shoulder.

“Jack, I got to run this little darlin’ over to school. It’ll be real quick. You need anything else before I go?”

“No, we’re good. Thanks,” Jack said.

“Brittany, let’s go.” Angie waved me over. I got up and was finally able to turn around and check out the men in the booth behind me. The old man looked to be in his fifties, with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He had a beard and mustache and reminded me of one of my dad’s professor friends.
 

I glanced across the booth to look at the other guy, who had been sitting directly behind me. My stomach dropped and I felt lightheaded. I
did
know this guy. I
had
seen him before. But not in real life. It was the guy from my dream! The dream I had on the bus. The one I was too embarrassed to tell Ruby about. The dream I said was about Colin.
 

The guy was exactly how he looked in the dream. Sandy blond hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tan skin. Muscles. I could feel myself blushing just looking at him.

The guy felt me staring and looked up. His eyes locked on mine. I didn’t look away. I couldn’t stop staring at him. It seemed that he, too, felt some type of familiarity. The feeling seemed to take him by surprise because he dropped his fork, making a loud ding sound on the plate.
 

The sound startled Jack and he looked up. Angie broke the tension. She grabbed my arm and shook it.

“Brittany. Don’t stare. It’s rude. Besides, you know Erik, don’t you? He’s just a year or so older than you. He went to your school for cryin’ out loud. Wasn’t that long ago he graduated. Teenagers. Never could understand them. Even when I was one.” Angie laughed, looking over at Jack.

“Nice to see you, Brittany.” Jack held his hand out toward me but the look on his face showed that he didn’t believe I was Brittany.
 

“Yes, nice to meet, I mean, see you, too.” I shook his hand, then looked back at the guy I now knew as Erik.

Erik seemed confused. I could tell his mind was trying to figure out if I really was this Brittany girl from his high school. “You’re a cheerleader, right?”

“Um, yeah, that’s right.” I played along, but I could feel both Erik and Jack questioning my words.

Before Erik could continue, Angie started pulling me out the door. “Well, I gotta get her back to school. Enjoy your food there boys and I’ll be back real quick.” Angie grabbed me closer so she could whisper. “Brittany, stop that. What’d I tell you ’bout starin’?”
 

But I couldn’t stop looking back at Erik. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him. And I didn’t know why.
 

Angie had an old red pickup truck behind the diner. When we got in, she started lecturing me. “Why do you got to go starin’ at boys like that? Lord knows that boy is a looker—heck, if I weren’t so old, I might—” she stopped herself. “At any rate, it ain’t good manners to stare. And you ain’t gonna get anywhere in life by bein’ boy crazy. Boys are trouble, Brittany. Pretty girl like you gets sucked in by their charm. And soon enough you’re pregnant, droppin’ out of high school, and stuck in this old town to die.”

I let Angie talk, nodding now and then to make her think I was listening. But all I could think about was this guy, Erik. I had to know who he was. Finally, I interrupted Angie, after not hearing a word she had said. “I don’t really remember Erik from school. Are you sure he went there?”
 

“What are you talkin’ about him for? Did you even hear a word I said? I swear, I think there’s somethin’ wrong with the brain at your age.”

“I just wondered how old he is, where he lives.”

Angie shook her head, giving up on talking sense into me. “I suppose he’s around 19, maybe 20. Jack and him live way outside of town. A farm somewhere off a dirt road. I don’t know exactly where. They don’t come into town much. Fact, I was surprised to see ’em today. Haven’t seen ’em in the diner for months.”

The high school was just a few miles out of town. Angie pulled into a side parking lot. It must have been a lunch break because people were sitting outside at tables—a sight you’d never see at a Minnesota school in January.
 

“I don’t wanna see you skippin’ class again, Brittany,” Angie said, waving me out of the car. “You get your butt in that school, you hear me? Or I swear, I’m tellin’ your mom. She’s doin’ my nails when I get off work today. You know how us ladies get loose lips when we’re at the salon.”
 

I nodded, then got out of the truck. “And brush your hair, girl,” Angie yelled out the window as she drove away.
 

I made sure she was out of viewing distance. Then I ran over to a row of thick bushes away from the lunch tables and ducked down so people couldn’t see me. The scene wasn’t that different from my old school. The jocks were gathered together at what appeared to be the best tables, hidden under some shade trees that shielded them from the hot sun. The cheerleaders were nestled among them, some sitting on the tables to show off their short skirts.
 

The next tables had the wanna-bes who listened to and watched whatever was going on at the jocks’ and cheerleaders’ section. After that was the quiet group, who minded their own business, wishing high school would just end already.
 

Erik said I was a cheerleader, I thought. I looked back over at the group of cheerleaders. None of them were eating. A few had cans of diet soda, but most of them were busy applying lip gloss, whispering to each other, or messing with their hair. I wondered if I should go over there and pretend to be this “Brittany” person.
 

“Hey, Brittany.” A guy pulled up in an old red mustang convertible. “Brittany!” He continued to call out the name as he got out of the car. Everyone looked at him. Oohs and ahhs started coming from the crowd.
 

“Oh my God, Brittany. That car is so hot,” I heard one cheerleader say to another girl. I looked closer to see that the girl looked a little like me. The guy from the car went up to the girl and picked her up, planting his lips on hers.
 

“Hey, babe. So what do you think? Sweet car, right? Let’s go for a ride and then maybe . . .” He put her down and slapped her backside.
 

She laughed and ran over to the car, closer to where I was hiding. From there, I could see her face better. She didn’t just look a
little
like me. She looked almost
exactly
like me, except for the overdone makeup. She had dark hair just like mine but she straightened it so it was smooth and shiny, which explained Angie’s comments about my hair. She had my eyes, too, and we seemed to be the same height.
 

“I love it Blake! This car is awesome!” Brittany jumped into the front seat, then looked up at her boyfriend who was about six two and all muscle. Had to be a football player—which was top dog at any high school, but especially in Texas, where football ruled. “I can’t go for a ride until after school, Blake. You know if I miss one more class they’re kickin’ me out. And then I won’t graduate.”

“Damn you, Brittany! Why you gotta be like that?” Blake went from excited to enraged in a second. He got into the driver’s seat and yelled at Brittany looking like he was about to explode. “Get out! Now!”

“But, Blake . . .” She gave him the whiny voice and sad eyes. Blake leaned over her and pushed the passenger side door open. He put his huge hand on Brittany’s arm and shoved her out, spilling her onto the dusty parking lot. One of the blond cheerleaders ran over and helped Brittany get up.
 

“Blake, don’t push her like that,” the cheerleader said as she pulled Brittany away from the car.

Blake ignored the two girls and turned toward the other cheerleaders. “Amber, you wanna ride in my new car?”

A girl with a very dark tan and very long, blond hair pushed her way through the other cheerleaders to the car. She leaned down over Blake, greeting him with her cleavage. “Sure, baby. Love to.”

Amber sauntered over to the passenger side and got in. Blake revved the engine, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Amber’s bare leg, as her short skirt barely covered anything.

The two of them peeled out of the parking lot, leaving a trail of dust in the air.
 

“Bitch,” Brittany said, crossing her arms and watching them speed away. A red-headed cheerleader had joined the blond cheerleader to help console Brittany.
 

“I should have gone with him,” Brittany said. “Who cares about school. What’s it gonna do for me anyway? I’ll be a hairdresser like my mom. Stuck in this stupid town. I don’t need school for that. I need Blake. He’s my only hope outta here, ya know? That football scholarship is gonna take him places.”

“Britt, he’s just mad. He’ll get over it. You know he loves you.” The blond girl tried to sound convincing.
 

“Yeah, well he’s gonna love Amber in about 10 minutes,” Brittany replied. The girls said nothing, knowing it was true.
 

“He’s taking you to prom, right? So he’s gotta love you. He doesn’t care about Amber,” the red-haired girl chimed in, trying to sound hopeful.

“That’s like months from now. He’ll probably change his mind by then.” Brittany looked like she might cry.
 

“Britt, don’t say stuff like that. You’re head cheerleader. He’s quarterback of the football team. You have to go together.”
 

The red-haired cheerleader gave the blond cheerleader an annoyed look. “What she means is that even if you weren’t head cheerleader, he would still go with you because you’re meant to be together. You’re soulmates.”
 

The statement seemed to cheer Brittany up. A bell rang and the girls started to head toward the school. A wanna-be girl ran to catch up with Brittany. “You left your algebra book. Here, I got it for you.”
 

Brittany turned to look at the girl, who was about 50 pounds overweight and struggling with acne. “God, get away from me. And don’t touch my stuff.” She grabbed the book from the girl and turned back to her friends. “Why do some people have to be so ugly?” she said loud enough for the wanna-be girl to overhear.
 

“So they can stare at us and have something to aspire to,” the blond cheerleader responded, laughing as she let the school door slam in the wanna-be’s face.

I felt like I was back in high school. So much had happened since my last day of school that I hadn’t even given it a thought. But now, here I was—different high school but the same characters, same scenes.
 

After everyone had filed into the school, I sat down under a giant shade tree trying to understand what I had just witnessed. Who was this Brittany girl and why did she look almost exactly like me? My parents didn’t have any siblings, so Brittany couldn’t be a cousin. I wondered if the whole thing was a coincidence. Lots of people look similar. Maybe I simply happened to run into the person who looked just like me.