Flipped (20 page)

My heart lurched. What was she laughing about? What were they talking about? How could she sit there and look so… beautiful?

I felt myself spinning out of control. It was weird. Like I couldn't even steer my own body. I'd always thought Jon was pretty cool, but right then I wanted to go over and throw him across the room.

Shelly grabbed my arm and said, “Bryce, are you all right? You look…I don't know… possessed or something.”

“What? Oh.” I tried taking a deep breath. “What are you staring at?” Miranda asked. They both
looked over their shoulders, then shrugged and went back to picking at their food.

But I couldn't stop myself from looking again. And in the back of my mind, I could hear my grandfather's voice saying, “The choices you make now will affect you for the rest of your life. Do the right thing….”

Do the right thing….

Do the right thing….

Miranda shook me out of it, asking, “Bryce? Are you in there? I asked, what are
you
going to do this summer?”

“I don't know,” I snapped.

“Hey, maybe you can spend some time up at the lake with us!” Shelly said.

It was torture. I wanted to scream, Shut up! Leave me alone! I wanted to run out of the building and keep
on
running until I didn't feel like this anymore.

“Lunch is really delicious, Bryce.” Miranda's voice was floating around. “Bryce? Did you hear me? This is really a spectacular lunch.”

A simple little thank you would've sufficed. But could I come up with a simple little thank you? No. I turned on her and said, “Can we not talk about food or tans or hair?”

She gave me an uppity little smile. “Well, what
do
you want to talk about, then?”

I blinked at her, then at Shelly. “How about perpetual motion? Know anything about that?”

“Perpetual what?”

Miranda starts laughing.

“What?” I ask her. “What's so funny?”

She looks at me a minute, then snickers. “I didn't realize I'd bid on an intellectual.”

“Hey… I'm plenty smart!”

“Yeah?” Miranda giggles. “Can you
spell
intellectual?”

“He is too smart, Miranda.”

“Oh, stop kissing up, Shelly. You're trying to tell me you're after his
brain
? God, it's making me sick to watch you grovel.”

“Grovel? Excuse me?”

“You heard me. He's not going to take you to the grad dance anyway, so just give it up, why don't you?”

And with that, it was all over. One of my mom's flaky apple tarts got ground into Miranda's hair; the extra ranch dressing got smeared into Shelly's. And before Mrs. McClure could say, In the name of Boosters! What are you
doing
? they were rolling on the floor, scratching each other's makeup off.

I took this opportunity to leave my table and head for Juli's. I grabbed her by the hand and said, “I've got to talk to you.”

She sort of half-stands and says, “What? What's going on, Bryce? Why are they fighting?”

“Excuse us a minute, would you, Jon?” I pull her away from the table, but there's no place to go. And I've got her hand in mine, and I just can't
think
. So I stop right there in the middle of the room and look at her. At that
face
. I want to touch her cheek and see what it feels like. I want to touch her hair, it looks so incredibly soft.

“Bryce,” she whispers. “What's wrong?”

I can barely breathe as I ask her, “Do you like him?”

“Do I… you mean Jon?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sure. He's nice and — ”

“No, do you
like
him?” My heart was pounding through my chest as I took her other hand and waited.

“Well, no. I mean, not like
that
….”

No! She said no! I didn't care where I was, I didn't care who saw. I wanted, just
had
to kiss her. I leaned in, closed my eyes, and then …

She broke away from me.

Suddenly, the room was dead quiet. Miranda and Shelly stared at me through their slimy hair, everyone was looking at me like I'd blown my entire circuit board, and I just stood there, trying to reel in my lips and pull myself back together.

Mrs. McClure took me by the shoulders, guided me to my chair, and told me, “You sit here, and you stay here!” Then she hauled Miranda and Shelly outside, scolding them and telling them to find separate bathrooms and clean up while she ran down the janitor to mop up their mess.

I sat there by myself and didn't even care about covering up. I just wanted to be with her. To talk to her. To hold her hand again.

To kiss her.

Before school was out, I tried to talk to her again, but every time I got close, she'd dodge me. And then when the final bell rang, she disappeared. I looked everywhere for her, but she was just gone.

Garrett, however, wasn't. He tracked me down and said, “Dude! Tell me it isn't true!”

I didn't say a word. I just headed for the bike racks, still hoping to find Juli.

“Oh, man …it
is
true!”

“Leave me alone, Garrett.”

“You get hooked up with the two finest chicks on campus, then bail on them for
Juli
?”

“You don't understand.”

“You're right, dude. I completely don't understand. Did you seriously try to
kiss
her? I couldn't believe that part. We're talking Julianna Baker? Your nightmare neighbor? The know-it-all nuisance? The coop poop babe?”

I stopped cold and shoved him. Just laid into him with both hands and shoved. “That was a long time ago, man. Knock it off!”

Garrett put both hands up, but moved in at me. “Dude, you have flipped, you know that?”

“Just back off, would you?”

He blocked my path. “I can't believe this! Two hours ago you were the man. The man! The whole school was on their knees before you! Now look at you. You're, like, a social
hazard
.” He snorted and said, “And, dude, the truth is, if you're gonna be like this, I don't need the association.”

I got right in his face and said, “Good! 'Cause you know what? Neither do I!”

I shoved him aside and ran.

I wound up walking home. In my pinchy shoes, with dirty dishes clanking inside my sticky picnic hamper, this basket boy hiked all the way home. And there was a battle raging inside me. The old Bryce wanted to go back in time, wanted to hang with Garrett and shoot the breeze, wanted to hate Juli Baker again.

Wanted to be the man.

But in my heart I knew the old Bryce was toast. There was no going back. Not to Garrett or Shelly or Miranda or any of the other people who wouldn't understand. Juli
was
different, but after all these years that didn't bother me anymore.

I liked it.

I liked
her
.

And every time I saw her, she seemed more beautiful. She just seemed to glow. I'm not talking like a hundred-watt bulb; she just had this warmth to her. Maybe it came from climbing that tree. Maybe it came from singing to chickens. Maybe it came from whacking at two-by-fours and dreaming about perpetual motion. I don't know. All I know is that compared to her, Shelly and Miranda seemed so…ordinary.

I'd never felt like this before. Ever. And just admitting it to myself instead of hiding from it made me feel strong. Happy. I took off my shoes and socks and stuffed them in the basket. My tie whipped over my shoulder as I ran home barefoot, and I realized that Garrett was right about one thing — I
had
flipped.

Completely.

I trucked down our street and spotted her bike lying on its side on the driveway. She was home!

I rang the bell until I thought it would break.

No answer.

I pounded on her door.

No answer.

I went home and called on the phone, and finally,
finally
her mother answers. “Bryce? No, I'm sorry. She
doesn't want to talk.” Then she whispers, “Give her a little time, won't you?”

I gave her an hour. Almost. Then I went across the street. “Please, Mrs. Baker. I've got to see her!”

“She's locked herself in her room, dear. Why don't you try phoning tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? I couldn't wait until tomorrow! So I went around the side of their house, climbed the fence, and knocked on her window. “Juli! Juli,
please
. I've got to see you.”

Her curtains didn't open, but the back door did, and out came Mrs. Baker to shoo me away.

When I got home, my granddad was waiting at the front door. “Bryce, what is going on? You've been running back and forth to the Bakers', climbing over their fence…. You're acting like the world's on fire!”

I blurted, “I can't believe this! I just can't believe this! She won't talk to me!”

He led me into the front room, saying, “Who won't talk to you?”

“Juli!”

He hesitated. “Is she … mad at you?”

“I don't know!”

“Does she have reason to be mad at you?”

“No! Yes! I mean, I don't know!”

“Well, what happened?”

“I tried to kiss her! In front of this whole room of people, while I was supposed to be having that stupid basket boy lunch with Shelly and Miranda, I tried to kiss her!”

Slowly a smile spread across his face. “You did?”

“I was, like,
possessed
. I couldn't stop myself! But she pulled away and…” I looked out the window at the Bakers' house. “And now she won't talk to me!”

Very quietly my grandfather said, “Maybe she thinks this is all a little sudden?”

“But it's not!”

“It's not?”

“No, I mean …” I turned to him. “It started with that stupid newspaper article. And I don't know… I've been weirded out ever since. She doesn't look the same, she doesn't sound the same, she doesn't even seem like the same person to me!” I stared out the window at the Bakers'. “She's… she's just different.”

My grandfather stood beside me and looked across the street, too. “No, Bryce,” he said softly. “She's the same as she's always been; you're the one who's changed.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder and whispered, “And, son, from here on out, you'll never be the same again.”

Maybe my grandfather's happy about all this, but I'm miserable. I can't eat; I can't watch TV; I can't seem to do anything.

So I went to bed early, but I can't sleep. I've watched her house from my window for hours now. I've stared at the sky; I've counted sheep. But man, I can't stop kicking myself for what an idiot I've been all these years.

And now how am I going to make her listen to me? I'd scale that monster sycamore if I could. Right to the top. And I'd yell her name across the rooftops for the whole world to hear.

And since you know what a tree-climbing weenie I am, I think it's pretty clear that I'm willing to do anything to get her to talk to me. Man, I'll dive after her into a chicken coop full of poop if that's what it takes. I'll ride my bike all the stinkin' way to school for the rest of eternity if it means being with her.

Something. I've got to come up with
some
thing to show her that I've changed. To prove to her that I understand.

But what? How do I show her that I'm not the guy she thinks I am? How do I erase everything I've done and start over?

Maybe I can't. Maybe it just can not be done. But if I've learned one thing from Juli Baker, it's that I've got to put my whole heart and soul into it and try.

Whatever happens, I know that my grandfather's right about one thing.

I'll never be the same again.

The Monday after the Loskis' dinner party, Darla tracked me down at school and forced Bryce Loski back into my brain. “Jules! Whoa, girl, wait up! How have you been?”

“I'm fine, Darla, how are you?”

“No, seriously,” she whispered. “Are you doing okay?” She shifted her backpack and looked over each shoulder. “I got to thinking, you know, that was just so cold of Bryce. Especially since you've got that soft spot for him.”

“Who told you that?”

“Like I haven't got eyes? Come on, girl. It's a given. Which is why I got to worryin' about you. Are you seriously all right?”

“Yes, I am. But thanks for thinking about me.” I eyed her and said, “And Darla? It's not a given anymore.”