Unlovable (10 page)

She pounced.
“Keep your hands off Seth!”

If looks could
kill
! I ignored her.

“
What makes you think you
can steal him away from me?” She ran a condescending glare up and
down my length. I felt stupid. She was right, but it still hurt to
hear.

“
Of course, if you’re giving
him what he wants, he may stay with you until boredom sets in,
which in your case,” she eyeballed me again, “shouldn’t take too
awfully long.”

I took a paper towel, ran it under the
cold water, and wrung it out before pressing it to my sore puffy
eyes. “I’m not after him. Maybe he’s after me, did you ever think
of that?” I hoped to get under her skin a little with my comment.
Okay, maybe a lot.

Bingo! She had thought of it and it
bothered her, a great deal I’d guess by her shrill laugh. She moved
closer.

“
Like I said, if you’re
giving him what he wants, he may stick around for a while. Maggie,
guys like him only play with girls like you, if you catch my
meaning.” I did. “But they fall in love with the good girls, like
me.”

“
Let me get this straight.
You’re saying popular guys prefer egocentric, stuck up, snotty
girls, correct?” I wanted to sound as if I were simply gathering
information, like a poor misguided soul, and she was teaching me
one of life’s great mysteries.

“
No, stupid. They play with
the trampy girls until they tire of them, or use them up. They
marry the good girls.”

“
I guess that would explain
why he’s dating you at the moment and not me. He’s obviously not
ready for marriage. I mean, seriously, he is only eighteen.” Good
one, Maggie. I attempted to fix my pathetic hair and gave up, and
settled on adjusting my pathetic sweater instead before turning to
leave.

Hillary had other plans. She drew up
in my face, so close I could smell her sour breath. What did she
have for lunch anyway?

“
He’s mine, and a simple
piece of trailer trash like you doesn’t stand a chance against
someone like me. Capice?”

“
Why are you so worried
then?” Her eyes flared at my question. She looked intimidating, if
not downright evil. I decided to try to smooth things over, sort
of.

“
I’m not interested in him.
He’s shallow and stuck up, a perfect match for you!” Despite the
smug grin on my face, I knew he was none of those things. “We’re
just friends, not even friends really, more like acquaintances. He
means nothing to me.” A twinge of guilt pricked at my heart with
the comment. It bothered me more than having her in my personal
space at the moment.

“
Maybe punching in your ugly
face will help you to remember he’s off limits.” Her threat took me
by surprise, I had no idea cheerleaders punched people. She pulled
her fist back and threw it forward toward my face. Luckily, I’d
spent years dodging empty booze bottles lobbed at me by my mother
and promptly ducked out of the way. Her fist slammed into the
mirror and it cracked.

“
You’re crazy!” I started
for the door, but she caught my sweater, and jerking me around, she
took another swing. My arm shot up to block it. The blow made
contact with my forearm causing a bitter sting. Before she could
hit me again, the bathroom door popped opened and in walked the
Vice Principal, Mrs. Volkel. Hillary immediately released my
sweater.

“
May I inquire as to why two
of my best students are in
this
bathroom during the lunch break? You are both
aware that only the restrooms next to the cafeteria are to be used
during this hour, correct?” She had her hands on her hips and an
annoyed frown on her mouth.

“
Hi, Mrs. Volkel.” Hillary
was all s
accharine
smiles and
lucent
charm, the evil glint in her eyes had completely vanished.
Astounding. “Love your shoes, are they new?”

“
Yes, they are.” Mrs. Volkel
relaxed, dropping her hands to her side. Hillary sounded genuinely
charming, in a sick, twisted kind of way. “I purchased them
at
Carmichaels
during their after-Christmas sale.”

“
That place is expensive,
I’m envious.” She flashed a fake smile. Mrs. Volkel bought it,
hook, line and sinker. She was actually impressed by the fact that
a popular cheerleader thought her shoes were cute. Pitiable
really.

Watching her spin her evil
web, I thought back to our tenth grade year. She and some of her
friends set up an internet site entitled
GeeksWeBe.com
. She posted
mean-spirited photos, along with acerbic commentary on fellow
students who had committed, in her words,
a fashion faux pas.
The unforgivable
trespasses included such things as: poofy bangs, tee shirts tucked
into slacks, and the dreaded fanny pack. If she hadn’t been forced
to shut down the site after posting a photo of the science teacher
wearing socks with sandals, my sweater would have surely made the
list. She also charmed her way out of a suspension by claiming her
goal was to help the fashion misfits. Yeah, right!

“
Shoe trouble is why Maggie
and I are in here, Mrs. Volkel.” I looked at Hillary wondering what
instant lie Little Miss Webmaster had come up with this time. “She
broke her shoe, and I brought her here to see if it could be fixed
somehow. I didn’t want the other students to see her like this,
they might make fun of her, more than they already do, I
mean.”
Ouch!

“
Hillary, you are a real
role model for other students.” Mrs. Volkel looked as if she were
about to cry. Me, I wanted to throw up. “Were you able to fix her
shoe?” She dabbed the corner of her left eye.

“
No, it’s not a very good
quality shoe,”
aka-cheap
, “it can’t be fixed. The
good news is it’s easily replaced. I saw a pair almost exactly like
them in the window of a discount store on Saturday. I’ll drive her
over there after school,” she said, flashing another fake smile.
“I’d hate for her to ride the bus with a broken shoe.”

“
Thank you for your
kindness.” She patted Hillary on the arm.

I’d had enough and limped toward the
door.

“
Wait a minute, do either of
you know how this mirror got broken?” I looked at Hillary, anxious
to see her next performance.

“
Not a clue, it was already
broken when we came in here.” Another perfect lie. Not a muscle on
her face twitched, not a hint
anywhere
on her face she was lying.
The girl should be charging for this show.

“
It was probably one of
those kids from the bad side of town.” I winked before adding, “You
know how they are.”

Mrs. Volkel gave me an uncomfortable
look. “Yes, um, well, we’ll never know. I’ll put in a work order to
have it fixed before someone gets hurt on the broken pieces. Off to
class, ladies, the bell is about to ring.”

I rushed out, wanting to get to
culinary class before the halls filled and everyone saw me hobbling
along. I sat in my usual back corner trying to understand how my
simple boring life had suddenly gone crazy.

“
How are you doing?” My
breath caught in my throat. Stealth technology had nothing on this
guy. It’s as if he appears out of thin air. “Sorry, I didn’t mean
to startle you,” Seth said, putting his hand on mine. The warmth of
it reminded me of how warm his mouth was, and I slowly pulled my
hand away pretending to look for something in my book
bag.

“
I’m better, thanks.” I
threw him a quick smile and returned to my bag keeping up my
pretense.

“
Is this a new outfit? I
like it.” My face flushed at his compliment, I buried it deeper
inside my bag.

“
Thank you. No.”

“
How’s your shoe? Were you
able to fix it?”

“
No, it’s
hopeless.”

“
Let me take a look at
it.”

“
Don’t worry about it,
they’re cheap shoes,” I said, as if it were no big deal that I now
had only one pair of shoes to my name; one pair with the toe ripped
out.

“
Maggie, the shop teacher’s
a genius, he can fix anything. Let me run it over and see what he
can do.”

Figuring there was nothing to lose, I
handed him the shoe. Maybe now I wouldn’t be mysteriously partnered
to cook with him if he weren’t here, something I hadn’t been able
to avoid yet. I watched him saunter out the door before turning my
attention to Mrs. Gianchi.

“
Class, today we’re going to
have a contest.” She was perched atop of her stool once more with a
sunflower print apron on. “By the stoves I’ve placed several
different ingredients, and if you’d like to use it, a cookbook.
Your assignment is to come up with something spectacular to eat.
Your creations will be judged on taste, presentation, and
creativity.”

I’m dead. My cooking skills were poor
at best. My only hope was a talented partner. I looked around
trying to remember who always did well in class.

“
Your creation has to be
completely finished including cooking time within one hour. To make
this fair we’ll draw names to determine who you’ll be partnered
with. If your last name starts with the letters A through L you’ll
pull a name out of the bowl.”

Finally some good news! The odds of
choosing Seth’s name were pretty slim. Just in case, I stood back
refusing to take a turn until someone else drew out his
first.

I waited and waited, but no
one drew Seth’s name.
This cannot be
happening
! It came down to my boy-crazy
friend Julie and me; still I waited. “Julie, your partner is Erin
Steel,” Mrs. Gianchi said, reading the slip of paper. “Which means,
Maggie, you’ll be working with …” she pulled out the last piece of
paper, “Seth.” I mouthed as she read it aloud.

“
Mrs. Gianchi, Seth isn’t
here, should—”

“
I’m back.” His voice made
my stomach quiver, in a good way. “Look, your shoe’s as good as
new,” he said, handing it to me.

It did look as good as new, better
actually, you couldn’t tell it had been broken. I put the shoe back
on, twisting it around to see if it would hold. Solid, of course,
would it dare be anything less?

“
Thanks.”

“
What’s the assignment? By
the way, how’d you rig it so we’d be partners again? You didn’t
bribe Mrs. Gianchi did you?” His eyes narrowed
playfully.

I ignored his last two questions and
explained the assignment. You would have thought he’d won a million
dollars. “This is great, we can create whatever we want!” I’m glad
he found it exciting because my perception was entirely different.
He looked over the ingredients and thumbed through the cookbook
before tossing it aside.

“
Are you up for an
adventure?”

“
Sure, why not?” What else
could possibly go wrong today? He started dividing the ingredients
into different sized portions. I leaned up against the stove and
looked around the room at what the others were doing.

“
Maggie, we’re a team,
remember?”

“
I’m a lousy cook, besides I
have no idea what you’re doing.”

“
I’m going to show you. When
we’re done, not only will we win the contest, you’ll also know
everything there is to know about garlic,” he said, presenting me
with a large white clove of the stinky stuff.

“
I hate garlic, I think.” He
grinned widely at my pinched expression.

“
Well, you won’t after
today.” He explained what herbs worked best with what foods, and he
was passionate about properly cooking the meat. I learned how
to
pan sear
it to
preserve the moisture and how to use a meat thermometer. “It tastes
better if you don’t cook the life out of it,” he said.

We chopped carrots and
onions, mixed together flour and some of the herbs, combining it
all together before pouring it over the
cheap
–according to Seth–steak we’d
browned earlier. By the time we were done, my head was so stuffed
full of information, it was a miracle it didn’t spill out my ears.
I found him very enjoyable to be around when he wasn’t flirting. He
had me laughing more than once with tears streaming down my face.
We finished with ten minutes sparing.

“
Try it.” I shook my head,
no garlic. “Here, Maggie, smell it.” I took a small whiff of the
creation as he finished arranging the meal perfectly on a plate
down to a small sprig of parsley, for color and your breath, he
informed me. It smelled wonderful.

“
Okay, okay, I’ll try it.”
He spooned up a small bite and fed it to me. It tasted
wonderful.

“
Mmmm! What are you going to
call it?” I grabbed a spoon and shoveled another scoop into my
mouth.

“
I can’t decide. How about
’Bit of Heaven.’ What do you think? Too over the top isn’t
it?”

“
It certainly fits. This is
amazing." I took another bite. “Any other ideas?”

“
Seth and Maggie, you’re
next,” Mrs. Gianchi said, interrupting him. “Let’s see what you’ve
created. Presentation; lovely, Maggie, full marks. Did you use all
the ingredients?” She looked over at our counter. “Good, however,
the real test will be in the taste.” Seth handed her a fork. “It
certainly smells delicious.” She took a small bite, “Marvelous! The
meat is incredibly moist. Have you decided on a name for the
dish?”