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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: EIGHTH GRADE

D A T E : February - May 2010

✖ prepubescent romance ✖

There were more things going on besides the awkwardly arranged relationship between Kole and I. Sure, dating was a pretty big deal in eighth grade (Like, nobody dated. What was up with that?), but eighth grade was more than just prepubescent romance. It was the eighth step into the adult world, and every grade was a level up from the next.

Most of the time, there was some big BANG that would just hit a person upside the head, sort of like an initiation to make sure they're ready for high school. Joni's initiation was most likely when her parents signed her up for extra classes so she'd be able to skip ahead in math and science, because while her English was swell, everything else kind of suffered due to her massive reading list that took up an entire page in her notebook. The classes were awful, and I can't believe she even made it through them alive. She had to skip out on a bunch of our usual hangouts because of them.

Clara was a special case because we never really talked to her much during eighth grade. It wasn't until near the end of the year that she started hanging with us again, and while we were all pretty stoked about that, it was weird having her back in the group. It was clear she wasn't the same carefree person that she was before, but the track season seemed to lighten up her mood a bit, and since it involved practice with all of us nerds, she was sort of forced to converse with us again.

Whatever was going on with Clara before wasn't all that relevant in conversation, but I picked up that there was still something off with her just like there was with Landon. He started acting different around the middle of the year, like how he stopped talking out in class, and he spent a lot of time over at Joni's house. I mean, it was normal to have slumber parties (even with Landon being a guy—he was trustworthy), but we'd limited it to the weekends. Joni briefly mentioned that he'd slept over three nights out of the week, and it was so abrupt her parents grew suspicious.

"Gawd, they're so nosey. It's embarrassing. I can't believe they're threatening to call his parents," Joni complained over the phone on a late Tuesday night. Tuesdays she had lessons with a tutor, and afterwards her parents gave her phone privileges after eight o' clock.

"C'mon, you're exaggerating," I said. They probably just inquired about Landon's home life, and Joni was blowing it all out of proportions like she was living some grand book plot that involved dramatic twists and turns.

"Am not! Listen, and I'm not joking, either. Sunday night when he stayed over, my mom musta checked in on us, like, three times."

"That's what parenting is! Being threatened by boys staying over in their daughter's room," I told her as I strolled over to my bed where Puck laid, passed out on the pillows. I hopped on next to him and plucked at the burs in his shaggy fur.

"We weren't even sleeping in my room, okay. I'm not a total idiot."

"Well, why's he been staying over so much then?" I ask, and she let out an exasperated sigh through the phone line.

"Ugh, I dunno. His parents are pissing him off is all I know, so I don't want my mom nosing around in their business. It's between them, isn't it? I mean, if that is the case."

I supposed she was defending Landon mainly because he was our friend, and he wanted privacy, but parents didn't understand those types of boundaries. To them, we were just kids, unsure about what exactly it was we were doing, and what type of message we were giving off if we decided to stay over at a friend's house for more than just a handful of nights.

We hung up after an hour of chitchat, and I went downstairs to return the phone to its cradle. In the home office I heard Mom clicking away at her keyboard, and at the kitchen table Lucas with all his school papers spread out on the surface.

"How's Joni?" he inquired when I came out from around the corner.

I paused in the hallway entrance before moving on with a muffled, "Fine."

"Where's Puck?"

"Sleeping. I took him down by the beach earlier so he's pretty tired," I told him. As usual, I opened up the refrigerator, and not satisfied by its contents, closed the door and moved on to the pantry. It was nine o' clock, so I decided on a small cup of trail mix when the phone rang.

Mom hollered my name to answer it—I was standing two paces away from it, but it wasn't like she could see me from all the way in the office. I picked it up with a brisk, "Hello?"

"Skye? Oh, yes, hello sweetie how are you?" Grandma Hemming, of course. She was probably watching her favorite late night talk show while fashioning a pink scarf for Valentines day, and the holiday hearts probably made her think of her adorable granddaughter, and also her daughter.

After casual, snippety chitchat with Grandma, I passed the phone on to Mom, who ceased typing to answer it. I left the 'rents to do their thing, climbing the stairs as I heard Mom say, "Thanks for getting back to me—oh that's great! How's dad?"

Upstairs, there wasn't much else to do than snack on trail mix, my head resting up against Puck's side, and the day weighing heavy on my mind. I royally sucked at eighth grade science—chemistry wasn't my thing. I tried to remember the daily quiz today from US History, but I guessed on all those anyways so it wasn't like I could remember a single word from it.

After finishing my trail mix, I got ready for bed, and started my daily schedule of recalling the deeper events—not so much school, school, but the people at school. What I said to them, ridiculously embarrassing things I did that day, the look on Olivia's face when I'd gone and missed three free-throws in a row during gym. Gawd, was that humiliating or what?

And then I thought about sitting in US History after finishing the quiz, and I wondered if anyone caught me staring off into space, which just so happened to be the back of Kole's head. He sat near the front because he never talked or anything, and the teacher was worried it was because he wasn't paying attention. It also just so happened that a lot of the "populars" liked to whisper in the middle of class, doodle instead of take notes, and not know the answer when called on.

Just like that, Bluebell was moved front and center, the spot directly in front of Kole where I could see perfectly when the teacher turned away, and Bluebell would go and slide a carefully folded note onto his desk, right at the corner where he kept his pencils all in line.

After watching him pass the note back up with his neat handwriting on the other side, I stared down at my notebook and mused myself with such certainty, "There's no way I'm going to confront him about this. How would that make me look? Would he think I liked him? That I was jealous? Because I'm so not jealous!"

At lunch my group all sat at one of the few longer tables. It fit about fifteen people, and I always kept my spot slightly off center from the middle of all the commotion where Lizzie and Olivia often threw food at each other. That day I found myself subconsciously zoning again, this time across the cafeteria where Bluebell's gang sat at the circular tables, expanding across three of them, each grouped specific to their extracurriculars. Bluebell, being a dancer, sat with the other athletic girls. My cousin Victoria sat at the table next to Bluebell's, where the competitive brainiacs sat in line with the musicians, who collected based on where their band seat statuses were.

I didn't say it out loud, because everyone at our table was pretty much on the same page with the "populars". We all loathed them for one reason or another. Charlotte, Olivia's twin, hated Heather Browen's guts because she was always favored by the coaches despite the fact that she just barely made par. Yui, with her quiet demeanor and all, wanted to strangle Kristen Bee for all her perfection in the field of the arts, which even extended to her voice talent that drove Landon up the wall when she got a solo in the school's talent show.

"Ooh! You know there's a dance coming up, right? We should have a slumber party or something," Lizzie suggested from across the table. "I'll bring the Cheetos, but don't expect anything else outta me."

"Wait, when's the dance?" I asked. Had this completely flown over my head or something?

"It's at the end of the month, but then there's the whole 'eighth grade graduation' thing—there's a dance after that, too," Joni informed us, and put on her serious face as she continued, "We gotta have a blow out bash for that one. I'm talkin' bonfire, fireworks, and movie night."

Joni didn't even have to say it because we all knew that eighth grade graduation would have to be the biggest event since upgrading from elementary school to middle school. It'd have to be par with Homecoming, which was the biggest event of the entire high school, and while we weren't invited to it yet, next year would be our year.

While dances were fun and all, I always tended to leave early because it'd get annoying later in the night. They played the same ten songs, and when we'd really start partying (making the huge circle and having someone breakdance in the middle), the "populars" would barge in and take over like it was "totally their idea" and we were the ones crashing the party.

One time, I even got elbowed in the face (by accident) by Duncan, one of Ryan's friends, who profusely apologized once he realized it was me. If it was Clara he'd bumped, she would have been the one in the bathroom without an apology, which made me feel awful even though it never even happened. I'd rather not have any connections to them at all if it meant even Duncan thought he was too high up to say sorry to my other friends.

It was all pretty lousy if ya ask me. Even if we had slumber parties, I'd ask Mom to come up with an excuse, like, "My mom says I have to go to my grandparents tomorrow morning, sorry!" and ditch the whole thing. Don't get me wrong, it was a helluva lot of fun when I was participating in it, but when I muse over what I'd rather do—dance all night and hang with friends... or cuddle with Puck and read a book?—I'd stay at home and read.

Call me an introvert, but it was true. I found out that I didn't just have to hang with people to dull the commotion in my mind, because reading a book pretty much did that for me.

In the midst of all this inner turmoil and the talk about planning a slumber party—Ooh, we gotta play Wii! Bring Mario Kart, oh wait! Just Dance!—my internal radar picked up the casual approach of Kole, who was making his way across the cafeteria to head to the boy's bathroom. He passed by a teacher patrolling the cafeteria, and was asked to remove his beanie before moving on, and as he slipped it off his head, he caught my eye and waved.

My entire face went red as a tomato—gawd, nothing was worse than being caught staring at a boy ya thought was actually decent. Nonetheless, I managed a weak wave and promptly turned back to my food, to prevent myself from looking elsewhere, namely Bluebell. Had she seen him wave to me? Could you tell my face was red from that far away?

The thing about the table we always sat at—one of the few longer tables in the cafeteria—was that it was in direct line of the bathroom, and in order to get there, students would have to walk behind our table to get to them.

Kole skimmed by us, and gave me a playful nudge in the shoulder when Joni perked up and said, "Hi Kole! Takin' care of business?" I think I might die of embarrassment.

"Gotta do what ya gotta do," he answered, causing our entire table to erupt into obnoxious giggles that would've made me thrown up if I wasn't in public. From beside me I was glad Landon had the good sense not to laugh, and only rolled his eyes.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Kole, Olivia was leaning over the table at me and going, "Hey, hey, Skye! Didya see that? He was all over you!"

"He just nudged me-"

"Oh my gosh, you're right! They're practically married!" Joni whispered, sarcasm leaking over her words that caused Lizzie to crack up and Olivia to sit back down and mutter, "But seriously though..."

Middle school crushes were obnoxious as all hell. I knew this for a fact after every time someone at our table had a crush, and so-and-so happened to go to the bathroom, everyone was all over them like they were officially OTP. Sometimes my friends wouldn't voice the fact that they saw so-and-so, but everyone knew they were walking to the bathroom, and would give discrete glances at the "lucky friend" who was now red with embarrassment.

The entire year they all assumed that I had some weird fetish for Kole, but really, I just needed someone to play video games with, and it just so happened that I liked him... as a friend.

But that didn't change the fact that everyone in the school thought we'd make the perfect couple, and Bluebell made a strangely strong effort to convince them otherwise.

Bluebell was a special case in our grade, because she was the first to date anyone and be online official about it for over a month. Her unnaturally good looks, skin that defied female puberty, and semi-decent athletic skills made her one of the most desirable girls in the eighth grade class. It made sense that the most popular guy in the grade, Ryan, with all his tanned skin, jock-type athletic skills, and good humor, would be drawn to her as soon as the thought occurred to him. It took a while though—practically half the school year—before they came out as a couple.

They only dated for two months, though, which was around the time she started passing notes to Kole, and even offered to be his lab partner in the fourth quarter of the year.

It was disgusting. Flirting was gross, dating was weird, and kissing was unheard of, which was maybe why I nearly threw up at the dance at the end of the month.

Middle school dances weren't fancy, so no one dressed up because there was more to do than just dance the whole time. The gym was open to play basketball, so most of the guys went there, and the main hall was open with tables so students could drink soda and eat snacks. The smaller gymnasium was where the DJ was, and that was where I went with my friends to get the party going.

Joni dragged Landon and I out onto the dance floor and spun us around so the three of us had to hold on to keep from being ricocheted off into the atmosphere. I laughed like a maniac until she let go, and I staggered around like a madman until I could see clearly again. Once I'd steadied myself, she jumped up and poked me on the side of the head, saying, "Hey, where'd your glasses go? Did you drop them when we got in?"

I reached up, almost alarmed, until I remembered I didn't even come wearing glasses. "Oh, right, I got contacts last week. It was tough to put 'em in so I don't wear them to school."

"What?!" Landon shrieked, leaning in to get a good look at my face. "No kidding! Joni's mom wears contacts, right?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind 'em," Joni admitted when she'd never been the one to wear glasses and contacts since fourth grade. She giggled and pushed me in the arm. "Ya look good in them! I forgot what you looked like without your glasses!"

To be honest, I felt kind of naked without them at first, but I figured it was like wearing a bikini in the beginning of summer. That felt pretty naked too, since it was basically just a glorified bra and underwear set.

Joni shimmied her way into the middle of our group, and started the break-dancing circle. Landon and I never really contributed to it--sometimes he would, but lately he hadn't been in the mood. Dances in middle school were always awkward because no one really knew how to dance, but when no when really knew how to dance, then we were all just sort of leveled out. I was sure the DJ got a kick out of it, seeing us all floundering around like beached whales.

It got pretty sweaty in the gymnasium, and I was wearing a short-sleeved sweatshirt when I should have gone with a tank top, so I nudged Landon, who had stuck by my side that whole night, and suggested we ditch the dancing for a while and play some basketball. He agreed and we rolled out into the school hallway, and down to the main corridor where Landon insisted on getting a Coke to boost his energy.

"The only time I'm good at sports is when I'm hyper," he informed me. "Anything else is just too much."

"Tell me about it. I'm sort of relieved I'm not doing track this year--sports literally kill me," I said just as we passed the doorway into the gym where the sound of basketballs hitting the floor resonated across the walls. We walked all the way across the gym to the empty stage where Landon could set his Coke while we played.

As we walked over there, he asked me, "How'd Lucas take it?"

"He wasn't too mad. I guess he was just hoping I'd turn out to be a star athlete or something," I told him, picking out a basketball and, quick as lightning, jolted at him like I was going to chuck the ball into his face. He flinched and whined about me not playing fair.

We shot a few baskets until we'd each got two through the net before trying to slam dunk the ball by Landon holding me up by the waist so I could reach the rim. The trouble was, my hair kept getting in his face, and I couldn't for the life of me make my arms two inches longer. I ended up just flicking my wrist and bouncing it off the backboard before Landon collapsed in a heap of exhaustion.

"You're gonna crush me at this rate!" he complained as I rolled off him, laughing hysterically in the process.

"Sorry I weigh so gosh darn much," I joked, pinching his arm and wriggling it about. "Or maybe you just need to bench more."

"That'll be the day," he huffed as he rolled off his bum and onto his feet. He looked around and cried, "Where'd the ball go!"

When I'd flicked the ball through the net, it'd rebounded off of my foot and ricocheted onto the gymnasium stage. I spied the orange across the wood where it stopped on the edge of a black curtain, so what I did was I leapt up onto the stage and walked right over to the basketball, picked it up, and turned right back around.

That was my mistake.

There was no way to avoid seeing it at that point, and even if I would've known, I still had to walk across the stage, and completely pass by them a second time. The first time I was oblivious to it because they'd gone and hid off where the big red curtain—the one everyone saw as the stage crew reeled it off to the sides—and were sitting up against the black brick where the curtain intersected the wall.

At that point I had the strongest urge to scream and chuck the basketball straight at their heads, but Landon was standing right over there practically on the other side of the curtain drinking his goddamn Coke. Instead of stall there like a malfunctioning car, I booked it off the stage.

And that was when Bluebell pulled away from Kole, her hand on his cheek, and his eyes partially closed until they flew wide open at the sight of me. I wasn't even sure he recognized it was me until I sprung off the stage and tried to fashion an escape from my limited resources. All I had was a basketball and Landon.

By the time I'd tossed the ball past Landon to the crate where they were all stored, I heard Kole stammering from behind the curtain, "Whoa, whoa, wait, Skye! Skye, hold up!"

I'd barely made it anywhere, and for some odd reason, I was suddenly so calm that I turned around and faced him as he jumped down from the stage, shocking the hell out of Landon. He swallowed down the gulp of Coke that was in his mouth and managed to say, "Hey Kole, what's up?"

Kole just looked panicked at that moment, and gave him a slight wave as he exhaled heavily and looked frantically between both of my eyes. "Skye, I—I like your eyes. I mean—your contacts. You're wearing contacts, what happened to your glasses?"

I felt like I had a role to play, and that maybe I was supposed to keep the conversation going and pretend like Bluebitch wasn't coming around the curtain now, or that maybe I should bring it up, point her out and demand why he was kissing her, but I couldn't. But seeing her made me furious again—she'd gone and tainted Kole like she probably had Ryan, and any other guy she'd come in contact with that fell foolishly head over heels for her.

Then I did the stupidest thing I'd probably ever done in my entire life.

There was only one thought—one idiotic thought—that contemplated what it'd be like to punch something, and a second later Kole was on the ground with a bloody nose.