It's My Life - Stacie Ramey Page 0,17
breathe out. No girls sit at the hockey table. Eric says it’s practically forbidden.
“Give me one good reason,” Simon demands.
Ben’s smile gets more wry, if that’s possible. “I’ll give you three reasons.” He holds up one finger. “First of all, because the guidance counselors and the nurses give the things away for free.” Another finger goes up. “Second, I do not want to know who is doing who here on campus.” Ben looks at me. We both pretend to shudder. “Third. You know what, we don’t really need a third reason because the first two were so good. But if you must have a third reason to be satisfied, it is simply this: I am the Marketing Academy president, and what I say, goes.”
“That’s right.” I snap my fingers in front of Simon’s face.
Ben turns to me. “Girl, you’ve got a mean streak.” Everyone gets silent. His dimples show. “And I like it.”
“That’s what he said,” Simon chimes in.
Ben’s eyes go wide for the tiniest second before streamlining to pissed. He points away from our table. “Out. Out of my sight.”
“You can’t throw me out!”
“No one talks about Jenna like that in front of me.”
Julian stops directly behind Simon. “There a problem?”
Chip, one of the hockey players, claps Julian on the back. “Keep cool, man.”
Julian turns, hands Chip his tray. “The coolest.” Then he rotates back to face Simon and puts his strong hands under Simon’s armpits.
“What the… I didn’t do anything.”
Julian lifts him to his feet, where Simon stands gaping. Julian pushes him forward. “Keep not doing anything away from Jenna.”
My face heats. Embarrassment is one of those things my body can process right away.
“You okay, Jenna?” Julian asks.
My tongue is anchored right to the bottom of my mouth. Get it together, Jenna, Jennifer’s voice bites at me, and somehow I manage to spit out a very weak “Sure, sure.”
Chip gives Julian a “what’s up?” look.
“She’s Eric’s little sister.”
“Just don’t get suspended for fighting. You’re practically on probation already for grades. We need you, man.”
It’s Julian’s turn to blush, and I wish I could help him like he helped me. His hazel eyes fall on mine. Kind, sweet eyes. “It’s been a while, huh?” he says.
For a split second it feels like how it used to between us when we’d shoot baskets at the hoop Dad put up in our driveway for me to practice my balance. I had a decent free throw back then, and sometimes that would make Julian look at me like I was special.
Ben grabs my hand under the table. Squeezes it to remind me that the boy actually said something to me and politeness dictates that I answer him.
“Yeah.” Could I be more articulate?
“We just moved back,” he says. “Different house. Across town.”
The boy is saying all of these short choppy sentences, and I can’t decide if that means he’s uncomfortable, shy, or just hoping to end this convo quickly. Ben squeezes my hand again, this time pretty hard, and I almost cry out, but instead I say. “It’s nice having you…back.”
Oh my God, I did not just say that.
Chip puts his hand on Julian’s neck. “Say goodbye, man.” Julian waves weakly while Chip forces him forward. “You gotta get focused on two things, grades and hockey. That’s it.”
The sounds of the lunchroom pick back up as if they had been paused for that nerve racking exchange with Julian and someone somewhere hit play. I still can’t breathe or focus or deal with anything. My mind desperately goes over every single moment of the last few minutes. Ben lets go of my hand and takes out his phone.
“We still need to plan our big three,” Ben talks above the roar. “Freshman Tours. Trunk or Treat. Homecoming. Who’s ready to take lead?”
I usually love watching all the game play and politics of the marketing kids’ table. Watching sophomores try to upstage juniors. Everyone hoping their pet project will make it into the showcase and eventually move on to competition and hopefully regionals, states, and then nationals. Today, I could care less about all the machinations. I only care about what’s going on at Julian’s table…or more importantly, inside his head.
From where I’m sitting I can see Julian pull out his phone. How I wish I could zoom into his screen. He’s texting someone. Who? I watch as his face stays even, no lighting up for whoever is texting him. Crisis averted. For now.
Although, at some point, Tori will be texting him. Helping him with English