I got up real fast and grabbed my tray. Tina, seeing what I was doing, did the same.
“Well,” I said, “bye.”
Then we booked out of there.
On the way to drop off our trays, Tina was like, “What was that all about?” and I said I didn’t know. But I know one thing for sure:
For once, I’m kind of glad I’m not Lana Weinberger.
More Thursday, French
When I went to my locker after lunch to get my books for French, Josh was there. He was sort of leaning on his closed locker door, looking around. When he saw me coming, he straightened up and went, “Hey.”
And then he smiled. A big smile that showed all of his white teeth. His perfectly straight white teeth. I had to look away, those teeth were so perfect and so blindingly white.
I said, “Hey,” back. I was really embarrassed and all, since I had sort of seen him fighting with Lana a few minutes before. I figured he was probably waiting for her, and that the two of them would make up and probably French kiss all over the place, so I tried to work my combination as quickly as possible and get the heck out of there so I wouldn’t have to watch.
But Josh started talking to me. He said, “I really agree with what you said in the caf just now. You know, about respecting your body and everything. I think that’s really, you know, a cool attitude.”
I could feel my face start to burn. It was sort of like I was on fire. I concentrated on not dropping anything as I moved books around in my locker. It’s too bad my hair is so short now. I couldn’t duck my head to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Huh,” I said, real intelligently.
“So,” Josh said, “are you going to the dance with anyone, or not?”
I dropped my Algebra book. It went skittering across the hall. I stooped down to pick it up.
“Um,” I said, by way of answering his question.
I was down on my hands and knees, picking up old worksheets that had slid out of my Algebra book, when I saw these knees covered in gray flannel bend. Then Josh’s face was right next to mine.
“Here,” he said, and handed me my favorite pencil, the one with the feathery pom-pom on the end.
“Thanks,” I said. Then I made the mistake of looking into his too-blue eyes.
“No,” I said, real faintly, because that’s how his eyes made me feel: faint. “I’m not going to the dance with anyone.”
Then the bell rang.
Josh said, “Well, see you.” And then he left.
I am still in shock.
Josh Richter spoke to me. He actually spoke to me. Twice.
For the first time in like a month, I don’t care that I’m flunking Algebra. I don’t care that my mom is dating one of my teachers. I don’t care that I’m the heir to the throne of Genovia. I don’t even care that my best friend and I aren’t speaking.
I think Josh Richter might like me.
HOMEWORK
Algebra: ??? Can’t remember!!!
English: ??? Ask Shameeka
World Civ: ??? Ask Lilly. Forgot. Can’t ask Lilly. She’s not speaking to me.
G & T: none
French: ???