Like This And Like That (5 page)

Read Like This And Like That Online

Authors: Nia Stephens

BOOK: Like This And Like That
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Seth smiled. “Oh, that's easy. If you really want to impress this guy, wear nothing. That would impress me.”
Gemma laughed, relieved that the uncomfortable moment was over.
“Clear off all desks and no talking!” Mr. Simms, their biology teacher, commanded from the front of the room. “Time for a pop quiz.”
Gemma placed her books into the wire basket underneath her seat, preparing herself to fail another surprise bio quiz.
“Have fun tonight,” Seth whispered.
She mouthed back,
Thanks.
 
“You look good. Don't worry about it,” Maria reassured her. Gemma and Maria were in Gemma's bedroom, having shopped all afternoon after school. They must have tried on every piece of clothing under the sun, finally settling on a short denim skirt and a tank top with a pair of strappy beige sandals. Since the weather had been unseasonably warm this December, Gemma figured she could rock the outfit without the fear of chilly night air.
She was still nervous about seeing Drew for the first time. That's why she suggested they go to a party Taylor was having—at least there would be other people she knew there. And if he was as sweet as his texts, she'd be happy to show him off. It was kind of strange that she was spending all this time perfecting her look for a guy she basically knew nothing about, aside from the fact that he had a penchant for flowers and could text up a storm.
“I don't look like a hoochie mamma, do I?” Gemma asked, concerned. She wanted to make the perfect impression and that impression was
not
slutty.
“Can you bend over without showing your cheeks?” Maria asked, tilting her head critically.
Quickly, Gemma jumped out of the skirt and put on a pair of low riders.
“I didn't say to change,” Maria pointed out.
“Yeah, but if you had to ask, then it's too short. How does this look?”
Maria nodded. “Sexy but classy.”
“How's the hair?” Gemma asked as she nervously patted down any strands that may have gotten loose.
Maria circled around Gemma, nodding. “Girl, it's all good in the hood.”
The doorbell rang, startling them both. Gemma's heart thumped double-time. She gripped Maria's wrists.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Gemma demanded.
“Chica, I would never lie to you.”
A moment later Gemma's mother called from downstairs, informing her that Drew was waiting in the living room with Gemma's dad. Both girls' eyes popped at the same thought: Gemma's dad could not be left alone with a date for more than fifteen seconds. That was how long it took him to decide to tell a bad, bad joke or to attack the poor boy with a baseball bat. Not that he had ever actually hit one of Gemma's dates. But he had seriously considered it.
Maria pushed Gemma out the door. “Go, go, go, before Drew go, go,
goes
.”
When Gemma reached the bottom step, she saw her dad sitting with Drew in the living room. Her dad's face was a frozen mask of disapproval. Not good. Gemma's heart sank when she saw the red baseball hat turned backward on the guy sitting across from her dad.
When she entered the room her dad stood up. “Hey, sweetheart. I was just making conversation with this young fellow here.”
Slowly, Drew stood up. Gemma's jaw dropped, and as she took in deep breaths to calm her frazzling nerves, she got a complete look at his getup. In addition to the backward baseball cap, he had on a pair of baggy jeans big enough for two of her dads to fit in. They hung low around his hips, and Gemma could swear the top of his boxers was peeking out. There were flashy diamond studs in both ears and he sported a pair of dark sunglasses that made him look like a fly—or maybe Fitty's long-lost cousin, 40 Cent.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Drew said, mimicking her dad.
Gemma almost fell over. His voice sounded like a cheap imitation of Barry White. Gemma glanced back to Maria, sitting on the top step. Maria shrugged and mouthed,
Relax. Have fun
. But the expression on her face read more like,
WTF?
Drew took Gemma's arm and led her to the door. Mr. Williams shot Gemma a
what's with this guy?
look. All she could do was shrug. Baffled expressions were being exchanged throughout the room.
“Be home early,” her dad yelled to them as they headed out the door.
“Not a problem,” Gemma mumbled under her breath.
“So, you wanna hit the floor?” Drew asked. They had only been at Taylor's party about fifteen minutes and already Gemma was regretting inviting Drew. Well, she regretted inviting him as soon as she saw him in his pseudo-gangsta-rapper costume. In the car ride over he barely spoke, and now, whenever he asked her a question she couldn't hear him over the music. Since arriving all she had done was shrug and smile. She tried this same tactic with his latest inquiry, not realizing what she was getting herself into.
“Great,” he said, grabbing her hand and standing up.
“Whoa, wait. What are you doing?” Gemma said, snatching her hand back.
“I thought you wanted to dance?”
Gemma's heart sank. “Oh, I thought you asked if I wanted something to drink.” She felt as if everyone in the room was already staring at them. She seriously did not want to get out there in front of everyone and be even more of a spectacle. And if Drew's outfit was any kind of indicator, she was afraid to find out what his moves were.
He looked disappointed but said, “Okay. I'll be right back.” Gemma exhaled as he left for the kitchen, relieved that she was finally getting a break from him. She found it difficult to believe that this was the same guy that had IMd her sweet little messages all week. Had sent her roses and loved romantic poetry. She glanced around the room wishing Ashton Kutcher would jump out from behind the couch and yell,
You've just been punk'd!
“Hey,” Seth said, walking up to her. “What's up? Didn't expect to see you here.”
Gemma flushed. She didn't want to have to introduce Seth to Drew, especially after how excited she had been in bio. “Just hanging out. What about you?” She silently prayed that Drew would take a loooooong time to get their drinks.
“Same.”
Gemma nodded uncomfortably. “I guess I'll see you around.”
As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Seth said, “Oh yeah, aren't you out with Mr. Prince Charming tonight?” He glanced around, apparently looking for her date.
Gemma spotted Drew returning with two plastic cups. Was there any way she could disappear into the floor? Teleport out of there? Make Drew, or Seth—or herself—vanish?
Drew handed her a cup. “Thanks,” she said, hoping he brought her something that could relax her a little more than straight punch. She took a huge gulp. No such luck, it was root beer.
There they were, the three of them looking at each other like lab specimens. It would have been funny if Gemma wasn't the one smack in the middle of this pathetic scene. Finally, Drew extended a hand to Seth. “I'm Drew.”
With a perplexed expression, Seth looked from Drew to Gemma and back to Drew. Finally he extended his hand as well. “I'm Seth.”
The two boys shook hands and then Drew draped his arm around Gemma's shoulders. “So how do you two know each other?”
“From school,” Gemma said. She flinched a little as Drew squeezed her shoulder.
“Oh, school? A wonderful thing school is,” Drew said with a nod.
Who is this guy
? Gemma thought.
Who talks like that
?
Seth seemed quite amused by the whole thing. They continued standing there in excruciating silence. Even the loud music blaring from the speakers did nothing to ease the tension.
Seth finally said, “I'll catch you later.” He then checked out Drew from head to toe one last time and walked off.
Gemma shrugged off Drew's hand and took another sip of her soda. Oh, why couldn't the punch be spiked?
“This party is slammin',” Drew said.
Slammin'?
Gemma rolled her eyes. She had to admit defeat. She could not take this date anymore. She needed to escape.
The DJ slowed the music down. Couples who had been hidden away in dark corners found their way to the center of the dance floor. Gemma could feel Drew looking at her. She knew what was coming next.
“Would you like to dance?”
Realizing she was not getting out of there until she agreed to dance with him at least once, she turned and said, “Sure.”
He smiled and steered her to the middle of the floor.
Awkwardly, Drew placed his hands on her waist. At first, their bodies pressed together felt uncomfortable, but then as she relaxed, Gemma felt more at ease. This close to him, she could tell that he worked out. That was a plus. It wasn't that Drew was bad-looking, he just covered it all up with his whack sense of style.
When the song ended, the DJ put on another slow record. They kept dancing. Gemma realized Drew was actually pretty good. Then the bomb dropped. First his hands eased up and down her back. She excused that. But when his hands found their way a little too far south, she readjusted them back to her hips. Five seconds later, his hands found their way back down south. This time she pushed him away.
“Drew, I have to go,” Gemma blurted. She spun around and headed back to the couch. She sat down and rummaged in the cushions for her purse.
“Why?” Drew said, sitting beside her. There was genuine concern on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I'd never want to do anything to offend you.” He finally sounded like the Drew she had been corresponding with this past week.
“Drew, this just isn't working,” she told him. A few of the partygoers plopped down in the recliner next to them and proceeded to talk loudly, trying to be heard over the music.
“I'll take you home if that's what you want,” Drew said.
“Thank you. I'd appreciate that.”
Drew stood up, took one step, and somehow managed to trip. Probably the huge, baggy, super-low-riding pants got in the way of his feet. He flopped to the ground with a thud. The entire party, including Seth, turned and stared. For those that happened to miss Drew's gangsta outfit when he first walked in the door—and there weren't many—they were sure getting an eyeful now. Slowly, Gemma bent down to help him up.
“You all right, man?” Seth asked, handing Drew a tissue. “That looked like it hurt.”
“He's okay,” Gemma said, tugging on Drew's arm. Drew held the tissue to his bleeding nose. Although she wasn't the one who fell, her face was as flushed as if she were. Forcing herself not to meet anyone's eyes, Gemma steered Drew out the front door.
The perfect ending for this date
, she thought.
They reached his car. Even though he was pressing a tissue to his nose, which he held pointed into the air, he still opened the door for her.
“I'm sorry you didn't have a good time at the party,” he said once they were in the car.
“It's not the party—”
“Then what?” He dabbed at his nose with the bloody, crumpled tissue. “What's the problem?”
Gemma hesitated for a minute. She hated hurting anyone's feelings, especially someone with a bloody nose. Then she decided she had to be honest. “It's you. It's like you're not even the same guy that I have been talking to all week. It's like you're his evil twin brother.”
There was silence in the car for a few uncomfortable moments. Drew looked down as his shoulders began to shake. Gemma reached over and put her hand on his shoulder, fearing that she may have made him cry. When he looked up, she saw that he was laughing, not crying.
“I told my buddy that I couldn't play this off,” he said, gasping for air. His reaction made her start laughing.

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