Sock it to Me, Santa! (3 page)

I started seeing Jamie everywhere. He wasn’t in any of my classes, but he was around. Since when was his locker twelve down from mine? Did the door always stick like that when he tried to open it? Did he always kick it with the toe of his shoe when he closed it? If I’d been on his left instead of his right, I could’ve peeked in. I bet he was the kinda guy who had pictures taped on the inside of the door.

And since when did Jamie have Mr. Murphy third period? How many times had he stood in a huddle outside the door, waiting to enter the classroom as I walked out? For a moment I wondered if he’d ever noticed me, if I’d ever stood out from the crowd the way he suddenly seemed to.

Since when did Jamie sit at the lunch table directly behind mine? How often had we sat back to back, stuffing our faces with the same greasy food? Was their table always that empty — just Jamie and his two girl friends?

Since when did we pass each other in the hall between fourth and fifth period? Did he always hug his books to his chest like that? Did he always walk with his head down when his friends weren’t with him?
 

And since when, when I saw him laughing with his friends, did I wish I were in on the conversation, too?

I told myself that my J-dar was only this finely tuned because of the gift exchange. I merely wanted to find out what he was like so I could give him something better than a lousy necktie. I needed to know more about him, but I couldn’t just walk up and talk to him. That would be too obvious. He’d either realize I was his Secret Santa, or he’d think I had a crush on him. I couldn’t ask around about him either. Then other people would think I had a crush on him. It was an impossible situation.

Once I got home from school, I decided to try a different approach. Cyberstalking. I looked Jamie up on Facebook, but his information was private. The only thing I was able to see was his profile picture (a white cat with black splotches) and a silly quote from Dr. Seuss about being who you are and saying what you feel. That wasn’t much help. It wasn’t until I scoured our school’s webpage and found out Mrs. Swanson sponsored knitting club on Tuesdays that I forged a plan.

* * * * *

I was first to arrive at Mrs. Swanson’s room after school. I asked her if I could get some help with my homework and feigned ignorance while she walked me through a few math problems. I sat in a strategic location that allowed me to keep one eye on the door and one on my paper. As the knitters trickled in, they pushed the desks out of the way so they could all sit on the floor in a big circle.

“Where’s Jamie?” one of the girls asked as she plopped down and rummaged through her bag.

“He’ll be here,” Kimberly said. “He told me he’s starting a new project today. Something special.”

“Speak of the devil,” another girl said, and my eyes flew to the door.

When Jamie entered the room, his eyes found mine, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Ryan?” Mrs. Swanson said, tapping my paper. “Are you listening?”

“Huh?” I looked down at my work. “Sorry. I think I get it now. Can I stay here and work on it some more — in case I have questions?”

“Sure,” Mrs. Swanson said, rising from her seat. “Let me know if you need help.”

When I looked back at Jamie, he had turned to face his friends.

“Cool pants,” one of the girls said to him.

I glanced at his jeans and my heart stopped. My tie! I’d seen Jamie earlier in the day but hadn’t looked below the belt.

“He’s gonna make me a pair once I find the right tie,” Kimberly said.

Jamie had cut the seams on the outside of the legs open and had sewn the tie into them from the knee down.

Kimberly patted the space beside her, urging Jamie to sit down.

“Awesome idea,” Denise said. “You could’ve picked a better tie, though.”

Jamie ran his fingers over the polka dotted silk. “I like it,” he said softly.

I felt myself getting choked up and had to look away. He was actually wearing the tie!

The knitters continued to chat about nothing. It sounded mostly like gossip, and Jamie didn’t say much. I was supposed to be gaining insight into Jamie’s psyche, but so far, I hadn’t learned much.

“What’s that you’re making, Jamie?” Denise asked.
 

I glanced at Jamie and our eyes met briefly.

“Umm…” He hesitated. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What do you mean, you haven’t decided? You can’t just — oh! It’s a surprise, isn’t it?”

He smiled.

“Fine,” she said, pouting. “Be mysterious.”

The girl on Jamie’s right leaned over and peeked into his bag. “Black and white yarn,” she said. “That’s not like you.”

Jamie snatched up his bag and moved it to his other side.

“Who crapped in your Fruit Loops this morning?” the girl said to him.

Jamie gave her a playful shove. He glanced over to find me staring again, and I quickly looked down at my paper. I’d done two problems in the last twenty minutes.

The knitters went back to knitting. Mrs. Swanson sat at her desk and graded papers. I tried to look busy as I eavesdropped on conversations about boys in school, boys on TV, boys on the radio. And they say guys have one-track minds? The knitters were over-the-top boy crazy. Jamie didn’t say much, but I wondered if he was boy crazy, too. I wondered what kind of boys he liked. Did he go for the jock types with big muscles? Or did he go for average looking guys with shaggy blond hair, like mine? Not that it mattered.

Eventually, the knitters started to pack up and say their goodbyes. I waited until they’d all left before I headed out. As soon as I exited the building, a cold wind slapped at my face, and I zipped my coat all the way up to my chin. I was halfway to my car when I heard the shouting.

“Get the fuck off me!” someone cried. It sounded like Jamie.

I turned in the direction of the noise and saw a mass of bodies in the distance. Jamie was on the ground with three guys on top of him. I only recognized him because I could see the bottoms of his legs kicking wildly, the polka dots revealing his identity. My first instinct was to hide, to save my own ass, but a sick feeling spreading through my gut wouldn’t let me take the coward’s way out.

“Hey!” I screamed as I ran towards them, terrified that I was about to get my ass handed to me.

Jamie struggled under the weight of the bodies and screamed obscenities at his attackers.

“Hey!” I yelled again as I got closer.

The three boys suddenly got up and bolted down the sidewalk.

“Shit, are you okay?” I said as I dropped my bag and kneeled beside Jamie.

“Fine,” he said, his voice sharp.

As I stood, I reached for his arm to help him up.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, jerking his arm away.

“I’m sorry.” I looked at him closely, trying to assess the damage. No blood. No visible bruises. My eyes swept down his body, and then stopped at his feet. I instantly understood what had happened. Trevor and his goons had taken Jamie’s shoes. They hadn’t intended to hurt him, just humiliate him. It was their thing. The shoes would be on display tomorrow morning, hanging from the power lines in front of the school.

“My favorite shoes,” Jamie grumbled.

I looked at his feet again and smiled.

“It isn’t funny, asshole.”

“Shit — no, I know. It’s just — your socks…” Jamie’s socks were bright blue and covered with little rainbows and happy-faced clouds.

Jamie scowled at me then scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, it’s been fun,” he spat out. “Gotta go.”

“Wait—”

He turned his head toward me and arched an eyebrow.

“Let me give you a ride home.”

“I can walk,” he said, his voice cold and mouth turned down.

“You can’t walk home in the snow without shoes,” I said. “Only grandparents get to say they’ve done that.”

He didn’t laugh at my joke, and neither one of us moved for several moments.

He sighed loudly. “My toes are already numb.”

“Come on,” I said, nodding my head towards the lot. “I’m parked right over there.”

Jamie hoisted his bag on his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said softly as I led the way to my car.

* * * * *

We didn’t speak as we walked across the lot. The way Jamie clung to the strap of his bag with both hands and walked a step behind me made me think he was considering bolting, and I didn’t want to risk spooking him. When we got to my car, I walked to the passenger-side door first.

“How chivalrous,” he said sarcastically.

“Huh? Oh. No, I just need to clear off the seat. I’m not used to having people in my car.”

I threw my junk into the back seat of my old Civic and then moved out of his way. I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Jamie fastened his seatbelt, then shivered violently.
 

“It should heat up in a minute,” I said.

He drew his legs up, resting his heels on the edge of the seat, and then pulled off his socks.

I stared at his bare feet as he flexed his toes, and a funny feeling shot through my body. “Wha — what are you doing?”

“My socks are wet,” he said matter-of-factly. “Why? Do you have a thing about feet?”

“Huh?” I swallowed hard and glanced at his feet again. My insides were stirring, and my outsides were beginning to stir as well. I was suddenly glad I’d decided to leave my coat on when I’d thrown the rest of my stuff in the back seat.

“I can put them back on,” he said. “If it bothers you.”

“N-n-no.” I gestured towards the floor. “You can stick them under the vent to dry.”

Jamie smiled at me, and I resisted the urge to tug the bottom of my coat down further. I knew my arousal wasn’t visible. As long as I didn’t do anything to draw attention to it, I’d be fine.

As we approached the first stop light, Jamie gave me directions to his house.
 

“That’s a long walk,” I said. “Do you walk that every day?”

He shook his head. “No, I usually get a ride from my friend, but she can’t stay late on Tuesdays.”

“That sucks,” I said, and then chuckled. “Man, you must really like to knit.”

“What’s it to you?”
 

 
My eyes were on the road, but I could hear the tension in his voice.
 

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s cool. Just — people might not harass you so much if you were more low-key, you know?”

“I’m not gonna let bullies keep me from being myself or doing things I like.”

For such a small guy, he was a lot stronger than I was.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “Don’t listen to me.” After a few moments of silence I added, “Hey, my mom works at Craft Magnet. I don’t know if you shop there for your… knitting stuff.”

Jamie’s voice softened. “Yeah, I like that place.”

As we slowed to a stop, I looked over at him. “Next time you go, ask for Charlotte. If you tell her you know me, she might give you a discount.”

He smiled, and I found it difficult to look away. When he brought his feet up to sit Indian style in his seat, I glanced down at his toes. I rested my hand on the gear shift, mere inches from the bottom of his bare foot. An image flashed through my head of me running my fingers along his sole. The skin looked soft there, and I wondered if he was ticklish.

I was hard. Really hard. What the hell? Since when had I developed a foot fetish?

“Uh…Ryan?” Jamie said.

I snapped my head up to find him grinning.
 

“The light’s been green for a while now.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. Guess I zoned out there for a minute.”

Jamie wiggled his toes. Smug bastard.

“So how’s the Secret Santa thing going?” Jamie said.

My heart stopped. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Have you made your gift for this week?”

“Uh…I’m working on it.”

I glanced at him in an effort to gauge his expression, but his face was turned toward the window. I hoped to God he wasn’t on to me.

“I lucked out,” he said. “Amber’s pretty easy to please.”

“Oh. Yeah, I figured you got her. She really liked that scarf.”

“Yeah, I was glad. What did you make?”

“Well, I botched my first attempt.” Shit, what was I saying? TMI! TMI!

“Oh?”

I fiddled with the temperature controls. “Are you hot? I can turn this down a little.”

“I’m fine. But you can turn it down if you want. You’re wearing that heavy coat.”

I’m usually not much of a blusher, but I could feel the heat reach my face as I thought of what was lurking under my coat. “Hey, isn’t your street coming up here soon?”

Jamie directed me through the final few turns. I pulled up to the curb in front of his house, but left the car running. He looked at me as though he was expecting me to say something, but I was at a loss for words.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “Do you wanna come inside for awhile?”

“What?” I said, inching further away in my seat. “Why would I wanna do that?”

His expression hardened and he quickly opened the door.
 

I hadn’t intended the words to come out like that. He’d just caught me off guard.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said in a rush as he scurried out of the car.

I watched him run up the driveway in his bare feet. He’d forgotten to take his socks. “Jamie!” I called out to him, but he disappeared inside his house without looking back.

* * * * *

I drove home feeling like a complete jerk. I’d obviously upset Jamie. What did he expect, though — inviting me in like that? Did he think we were friends just because I gave him a ride home? Did he think we were more than friends? Oh, God. Had the foot-staring debacle set off his gaydar? Did he know about me? Is that why he’d invited me in?
 

I just wanted to get home, pop in my earphones, and forget about everyone and everything for a while. I couldn’t deal with it all right then.

At dinner that night, my mom brought up the gift exchange. “Have you decided if you’re coming to the workshop tomorrow evening? You still need to make a gift for Jamie, right?”

“That didn’t work out so well last time,” I said.