"Jared!" I hissed under my breath again, waiting anxiously for him to pass over the worksheet the teacher had handed out. I had called him 3 times now and I was starting to think about giving up. I sighed heavily in frustration as he passed the stack of papers the wrong way and flopped back in his seat.
He's ignoring me again.
At least this was a welcome change from previous years when he used to go out of his way to torture me. Although, that was in grade school and I should be well over any past wrong-doings on his part. I peeked through the curtain of my hair, watching him as he stared out the window. He sighed, sinking lower in his chair and I quickly turned away. I looked down at my desk, thinking for a moment, before grabbing a pencil and throwing it at his leg. He didn't even look over. Now I was without a handout and a pencil! I stood up and stomped to the front, grabbing a copy from the extras sitting on the teacher's desk before barrelling down the isle, bending down and grabbing my poor pencil from under Jared's foot. He grunted as I pushed his leg out of the way. Ahhh...a reaction at last. But he still didn't look over and in defeat I returned to my desk.
I didn't have a crush on Jared. Truth be told, I didn't like him at all. He was always a very attractive guy: tall, dark and handsome. And now he was more attractive following his month long break from school. But all of my dealings with him had led me to view him warily. We had been born and raised in this town and up until I turned 12, he had tormented me. From pushing me down in the mud when we were three, ruining my new patent leather Maryjanes and BRAND NEW clean, white dress, to chopping off one of my pigtails with the classroom scissors when were 6 (that resulted in an unflattering boy haircut) to telling Paul all about how I had a crush on him when we were 11, Jared wasn't exactly my favourite person. When I turned 12, my father was diagnosed with cancer and my mom sent me to live with my grandmother for a year while they dealt with getting my father better.
I stayed with my grandmother until my father went into remission...and when I returned to La Push, it was like I was a new student. At least in Jared's eyes. He didn't torment me anymore. In fact, he didn't even look at me. Nothing. Blank. I was plastic wrap to him: clear, see-through, transparent. And for a couple years, I enjoyed my new role in Jared's life. Or lack there-of. But now it was just irritating! I mean, pass me my damn work, you douche bag! You can't not be aware that there is someone sitting directly to the left of you!
The bell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. I jumped out of my desk and bashed into Jared, dropping all of my books on the ground. He continued to push past me, followed out the door by my furious cry of "JERK!". My friend Amy knelt down beside me, picking up my scattered school supplies from where Jared had knocked them. She rolled her eyes at me as I huffily shoved everything in my bag.
"I swear...one day, I'm going to bite his ear!" I hissed out between my clenched teeth. She laughed, pulling me up off the floor.
"C'mon, Mike Tyson. School is over. I'll take you home."
That afternoon, Amy and I hung out at my place finishing up our homework so that we didn't have to do any over the weekend. Sounds dorky, but this was our routine since before I left La Push. It worked out well for us because we always had Friday night and all of Saturday and Sunday to do whatever, while everyone else had to work their asses off just to finish up in time for Monday. So, yes, we were awesome. Look at us.
Friday night found us having a girl-fest, movie night with a few of our classmates. Needless to say, I woke up Saturday with a sugar hangover and bags under my eyes. Throwing myself out of bed, I jumped in the shower, preparing for work.
Starting at the beginning of my junior year, I had talked myself into a job at the local library. It was tiny. Miniscule, really, but it was a job. And I loved it. I worked there Tuesdays and Thursdays after school and on Saturday in the afternoon. It didn't pay much, but it kept me in sunglasses, my true passion. I have a box full of them. Under my bed. I love them. Unfortunately, I didn't get to wear them often, on account of all the rain that we got here in La Push.
...Speaking of rain, I needed to get out in it so that I could get to work faster. I grabbed an apple from the kitchen and an umbrella from the closet on my way out the door. Unfurling the umbrella, I hopped off the step, deftly avoiding the large pool of rainwater that had collected at the bottom.
I loved the rain. Most of the time, anyways. There is nothing like skipping through puddles in gumboots, covered in protective rain gear, I thought, sighing happily. It was somewhere between my fifth and sixth puddle jump that I ran into a wall. A tall, fleshy wall. My umbrella fell out of my hands and I felt myself start to fall backwards into the puddle that I had so lately enjoyed. My free fall ended abruptly as two huge hands grabbed my arms and pulled me upright. I reached down and grasped my umbrella before looking up at my rescuer. Paul? I thought to myself. He hadn't been at school in almost a month. A month in which he'd grown almost a foot taller and had put on about 60 pounds of muscle. I gaped at him like a guppy out of water.
He winked at me before saying, "Kim! How you been?"
"I'm alright...where have you been? Did you disappear and do steroids for a month?" I looked him over again. He just smirked at me, so I continued. "Thanks for rescuing my butt from a wet fate," I turned kicking the puddle and glaring at it rebelliously. "Well...I'm off to work." I walked around him, waving as I went by.
"Hey, I'll walk with you."
We walked in silence for a minute or two before I said, "So, you're buddy-buddy with Jared. Why does he pretend I don't exist?"
Paul looked over at me and said, "You can't guess? Let me break things down for you. He harassed you for what? Six years? You know what it means when a little boy torments a little girl like that, right?" I looked at him blankly. No. Jared didn't have a crush on me. Not ever. And I told Paul that too, before kicking him in the shin and running away. He laughed after me, telling me that he'd see me later, but I ignored him, running up the stairs of the library and past the front desk.
Damn Paul.
All I thought about throughout my shift and well into my walk home was Jared and his possible Kim-session. I was willing to concede that he had possibly harboured feelings of a tender nature for me in our younger days, but how could I account for his inability to acknowledge me following my triumphant return to La Push? I just didn't understand what had happened to make him see through me. I could easily understand how he could get over any feelings he had for me after not seeing me for a year.
That I could understand.
And, I did appreciate the moratorium on torment he had instituted following my return, but to just ignore me? I mean...there aren't that many people on the reservation to begin with. Its not as if I was constantly in the midst of a crowd and he just literally couldn't see me due to all of the people surrounding me. I am short. I would get lost in a crowd. But that's neither here nor there because in La Push, crowds consist of 3-5 people. I'm not kidding. It's a small place.
This is a mystery. A mystery that I want solved. On Monday, I would force Jared to talk to me! And with that sudden and forceful thought, I waltzed into my house, greeted by the mouth-watering scent of my mom's lasagna.
Oh mama, you are my hero!