Double Takes
"Oh no."
Those two
words echoed from Tyler Connell's mouth disbelievingly as he stared at the
wall… or more precisely, the poster on the wall.
"Oh no
what?" Hank Beecham, who was desperately trying to figure out how to conjugate
the verb s'excuser before the French test in two minutes, had no time to
follow his best friend's eyes to the offending poster. "Oh no, Hank's going to
be kicked off the honor roll if he doesn't figure this out, and he isn't going
to figure this out anytime soon, so he can kiss the honor roll goodbye?" He
flipped a couple of pages. "Good, here it is. Now I have to conjugate
savoir. Man, do you know what the past participle of ecrire is?"
"Oh no,"
repeated Tyler. Hank suddenly realized something was wrong and looked up from
the French textbook to the poster.
"Homecoming
Dance, the 23rd from 7:30 to 9:30," read Hank. "Come on, Tyler, you
knew that homecoming was this Saturday, didn't you?"
"I hate
homecomings," Tyler informed Hank, who smiled.
"After that
soap opera episode between you and Val last year, who wouldn't? I mean, dang,
that was close. You could have seriously put some damage into your relationship
with that. Past participle of prendre?"
"Pris,"
answered Tyler, choosing to ignore the rest of Hank's statement. "Je prends, tu
prends, il prend, nous prenons, vous prenez, ils prennent."
"Thanks,"
exclaimed Hank jovially. "Indirect pronoun for him?"
"Lui,"
stated Tyler absent-mindedly, staring past Hank to a certain blonde and her
locker. Hank looked up from scribbling notes—thankfully, it was a test you
could use your notes in—to see what was distracting Tyler.
Of course,
it wasn't a surprise to find that he was staring directly at Val Lanier.
"I'm going
to—be right back," Tyler said, taking off across the hallway. Hank sighed.
"Whatever
happened to friends over girls?" he sighed. "Pronoun for direct plural… les…or
was it le? Shoot…"
*
"Does
anyone actually have a date to homecoming out of us four?" Tyler asked the rest
of the squad. The question was, of course, intended to find out if Val had a
date, but it was a lot less awkward to ask in the guise of asking the rest… if
that made sense… he wasn't sure any of his thoughts or reasons made sense,
especially not lately and especially not in front of Val.
"I already
signed up for staying at the station," Jamie informed him. "Caitie and I made
enough of a bang last year to last us a while… though," he added, musing, "if
we borrowed Melanie Chaun's car we could make a splash as well. If there was
any pun with the toilet and the splash, it was intended."
"Well, at
least I'm not letting her drive this time," said Hank, then immediately slammed
his lips shut. "Oops."
"You're
going with Melanie Chaun?" Jamie snickered. "Again? I thought you hated it last
time!"
"She's not
so bad," fumbled Hank. "I mean, she dresses kind of normally now, and she's
nice, I guess…"
"You asked
her, didn't you? She didn't ask you, you asked her!" Val crowed with a grin.
"Hank likes Melanie!"
"You
do?" Tyler couldn't believe it. Hank hadn't told him? "You didn't
tell me… I mean, you know whom I like and all—" Oops. That wasn't supposed to
come out.
"Ooh, who
do you like?" Val leaned forward eagerly with a grin. Tyler turned bright red.
"No one,"
he mumbled. "And Hank, if you tell her, I'll tell everyone at school you like
Melanie… including Melanie."
"Why can't
I know?" inquired Val. "Hank knows."
"You're a
girl. Girls talk." Oh, great. Now Val would get into her feminist mood.
"Oh, come
on. I wouldn't tell anyone."
"No."
"Val, who
are you going with?" Hank interrupted loudly. If he didn't help Tyler, the
truth might actually get out… and that would not be good. At all.
"No one.
Yet," she added as an afterthought, looking sideways at Tyler. "But I want to
go, so I'll probably accept whoever asks next. I mean, if they're nice and
all."
Jamie and
Hank exchanged glances, then glared meaningfully at Tyler.
"So," he
began uncomfortably, "you wouldn't, like, want to go, 'cause we could… I mean,
if you're not going with anyone else, we could, like, go toget—"
The alarm
went off; the gazes broke, awkwardly; and they ran to the ambulance.
"It always
happens," Tyler muttered. "Always."
*
"So, Val,
are you going to the dance?" Tyler inquired awkwardly. Two days before the
dance, and of course she would have a date, but there was always hope…
Val flushed
red. "Actually, Toby Renault asked me this morning, and I accepted—I mean, I
didn't want to be without a date or anything."
"The guy on
the basketball team? Who thinks he's related to a car?" Great. He hadn't moved
fast enough, and now the girl he liked was going with a guy who thought his
relatives were made of metal.
"Yeah, that
would be him," she agreed, turning even more red. "Why?"
"I was
just—I mean, I would just—no reason," he lied, faking a smile. "Just
wondering."
"Oh." So he
wasn't going to ask her to the dance anyway, was he? He was just wondering, as
a friend, if one of his friends was going… because if she didn't have a date,
they could always go together and have a great time…
Get over
yourself, she instructed herself with disgust, he doesn't like you…
at least not in the way you like him.
*
"Hey,
Tyler, wait up!" Becca Miller was chasing him through the hallways of the
school. Even though he was late to class, Tyler sighed and slowed for the
brunette. Becca was on the diving team, popular, and on the honor roll—yet
another overachiever, though she wasn't always that nice.
"Yeah?"
"Well,
I don't really have a date for the dance," she admitted with a small smile,
"and I heard you didn't either… so you want to go together?"
Over
Becca's head, Tyler's eyes caught Val, standing at her locker, talking to Toby
Renault. He groaned inwardly—wasn't this exactly what had happened last year?
Dèja vu…
He
looked back down at Becca.
"Sure."
"Great.
Pick me up at 7:30. Walk me to History," she commanded. Tyler smiled a fake
smile, and, with a last look towards Val, began walking with Becca up the
stairs. He didn't see Val look back at him with jealousy of Becca and longing.
Dèja
vu, dèja vu, dèja vu.
*
"So
did Tyler finally ask you?" Joanne Lanier asked Val, upon the request to go
shopping for a dress for homecoming.
"No.
I'm going with Toby Renault."
"Car
Boy?" questioned Brooke, entering the room. Val glared.
"Yes.
Car Boy."
"Sheesh,
I didn't say anything. I mean, heck, if you want to think your great
grandfather is a Mercedes-Benz lying in a junkyard somewhere, go ahead, I won't
argue."
"Look,
honey, I said this last year and I still testify it today," said Joanne,
ignoring her younger daughter's mumblings. "Going with the wrong guy is worse
than not going at all."
"Mom,
I want to be able to tell my grandchildren someday that I at least went to the
senior homecoming. Especially considering I was nominated for queen," she
added.
"You
failed to mention that fact earlier," Joanne pointed out with a grin. "I'm not
saying you shouldn't go—I'm just saying you might not enjoy it very much with
the wrong guy."
"Maybe
Car Boy is the right guy," said Val uncertainly.
"And
maybe pigs can squawk like chickens while they fly around the green moon at
night," agreed Brooke. "And maybe Tyler wants to go with Becca Miller. Yeah,
that's likely."
"He's
going with Becca Miller?" That particular bit of information had not
been mentioned to her yet.
"Yup,
the first-class slut," verified Brooke.
"Brooke!"
Joanne reprimanded.
"It's
true," insisted Brooke. "I mean, she is…and even us middle-school kids know it…
I mean, it's not like she doesn't…"
*
"Tyler,
please don't wear your beeper," complained Becca. "I mean, what if it goes off
while we're dancing? I could never live it down."
"I'm
on call," he reminded her. "I have to wear it." Why do I always get stuck
with the dates that can't just leave me alone about my beeper? Val would never—
Except
Val wasn't his date. So that was out of the question.
"Oh,
fine," groaned Becca, as if it was her who was being faulted. Tyler decided he
really did not like Becca Miller very much.
"Hey,
Tyler!" The familiar voice pulled Tyler out of his reverie about how much he
disliked Becca Miller. He turned around.
That
was a bad idea, because that caused him to stare at her. And Val didn't need to
see him staring at her. Neither did Becca. Neither did Toby Renault. Of course,
with her standing there, looking completely gorgeous in an icy blue formfitting
dress with thin straps that he found complete enemies because all they did was
make her more beautiful, which caused him to stare at her more, it was
hard not to.
"You
look… great," he said with a grin. Friend, friend, friend, friend, friend, the
voice in his head chanted. "Hey, Toby."
"Hey,"
agreed Toby without interest. Tyler looked at him strangely and realized that
Toby's tie had miniscule silver cars on it—cars so small they looked like tiny
dots.
Val
caught his gaze and mouthed, "He's kind of obsessed."
Tyler
grinned.
"Tyler,
let's go," whined Becca. "I wanna dance." Tyler shrugged.
"Later,
Val."
"See
you."
*
An
hour later, Val and Tyler both ended up at the refreshments table, watching
Becca and Toby dance.
"I
think our dates really hit it off tonight, huh?" Tyler said with a grin.
"Do
you like her?" Val watched his reaction closely.
"Nah,
not really. She's sort of a pain in the… yeah."
That
made Val smile. "Toby's a little obsessive over cars. We spent ten minutes
getting into the car because he didn't want me to damage the seat. I mean, God,
I'm not heavy enough so that I'll squash the seat!"
Tyler
laughed. "Not nearly."
There
was a long silence as they stood there, shifting feet nervously, trying to
figure out if they should ask the other to dance or if the other one was going
to or if they should keep talking or… what.
"You
want to go outside? Like, get some air?"
"Yeah,"
Val said quickly. Anything to just get out of this dance and all the
awkwardness of it.
They
walked quickly out the door into the cool night air. Val breathed deeply.
"This
feels good. The gym's all… stifling." Small talk was so much easier than deep
conversations.
"Yeah,
I know."
Val
wandered over to a picnic table and sat down on it. Tyler followed her actions,
and they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Val spoke.
"Tyler?"
"Yeah?"
"Last
year, at homecoming? Were you going to ask me? I mean, did you ever consider it
even the smallest bit?" Her voice was scared, as if she was about to step off
of a cliff and she didn't know whether she would fly or fall.
"Yes."
"You
wanted to ask me?"
"I
was going to, but then Rebound Machine came up to your locker and started
talking to you, and Caitie said he was asking you out, and I just assumed you'd
say yes—or at least you'd be more likely to say yes to him than to me. And then
Heather came up and made me walk her to History and then she asked me… and I
didn't know you had turned him down. Then you got mad at me because… well, I
don't know why."
"Because
Caitie told me that Jamie said that Kirsten Banks said that Tommy Rondall said
that…"
"When
you finish this sentence, will you be all grown up?" Tyler asked, but his voice
was gentle, much more so than when Val had said it a year ago. They were so
close…he could kiss her if he wanted to—if she wanted him to…
"…That
you asked Heather," finished Val with a smile.
"Never."
"And
then…this year? Were you going to ask me?"
"Car
Boy got to you first."
"Don't
we all wish he had never done that? And that I had never accepted?" she
inquired softly.
"I
certainly do."
"Would
you honestly, though, have wanted to dance with me?" She was asking so much
more than what it seemed, and they both knew it.
Tyler
got up and stood in front of her. "I still do. Valerie Lanier, could I have
this dance?" He proffered his hand with a grin. Val smiled in return.
"Definitely."
She
took his hand and stood up, letting go of his fingers to put her hands on his
shoulders in a fluid motion.
"I
don't think this is really music to slow dance to," Tyler admitted, listening
to the band bang out chords on their guitars.
"I
can't really hear the music anymore," replied Val, slowly tightening the
embrace to bring them closer.
"Yeah…
me neither." So close… so close… so very close… a couple moments ticked by
without talking. "You know, there was sort of something besides dancing I
wanted to do," he told her.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What
was it?"
"This."
Slowly…
slowly… it seemed like everything was slow motion as their eyes closed and they
drew closer—and closer—and—
BEEP.
Their
pagers went off just as their lips were literally a hair's breadth from each
other. They leapt apart and stared at each other, unsure of what was going on.
"I—we—that—we
should go," said Tyler, settling for that. Val nodded and followed his brisk
walk to the parking lot. God, what was going on here?
*
"Where
does it hurt?" Val asked the elderly woman who had apparently fallen down the
stairs.
"My
leg," she moaned. "I'm sorry to trouble you young ones, but it just hurts so
much…" She slipped off into unconsciousness.
"Going
into shock, leg broken in two places, relatively stable position," diagnosed
Tyler. "Count of three, get her up. One, two, three, up!"
They
slid the woman into the back of the ambulance and Jamie hopped in after the
stretcher to monitor vitals.
The
doors slammed shut.
*
Thud…
thud… thud…
"You
aren't going back to the dance?" asked Val curiously, emerging from the
building to step onto the basketball court. Tyler was dribbling the ball gently
on the concrete. He poised for a shot, unperturbed by Val's sudden appearance.
"Nah.
I don't want to see Becca Miller again anyway." The ball swished into the hoop.
"You?"
"I've
heard enough about cars to last me thirty nine years…and then some," she
laughed. Tyler smiled and threw her the ball.
"One-on-one?"
he asked. Val shot the ball and watched it go in.
"You're
just trying to avoid talking about it, you know," she informed him as he
dribbled the ball.
"About
what?" It bounced off the rim. Tyler turned to her, forgetting the orange ball
as he took a couple of steps closer to Val.
"Earlier."
She took a step towards him—but the distance was still so far.
"Earlier?"
A step.
"At
the dance." A step.
"Outside?"
Two steps—he'd never get to her if he didn't speed up.
"Tyler,
you know what I mean! Stop pretending you don't!" She stopped moving as a tear
gathered in her eye. "I don't know what you thought happened, but we almost
kissed… didn't we?"
Five
steps and he was close enough to reach out and touch her… but he couldn't touch
her. That was breaking a barrier… wasn't it?
"Yes."
He swallowed. Maybe that wasn't what she wanted. Maybe he was the only one who
had wanted the kiss.
"Did
you—want to kiss me?" Val ventured uncertainly, taking a small step towards him
so that they were essentially pressed together by invisible forces.
"Yes."
"Why?"
she inquired.
"Because—I—you—because—"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
"Because
you felt like kissing someone? Because I was there? Because you wanted to ruin
our friendship?" Val's eyes grew slightly angry. "Because your date abandoned
you and you wanted someone to hang all over you?"
"Because
I like you, okay? Because I've liked you for almost two years now! Because I
find you incredibly and excruciatingly attractive and because you're absolutely
perfect! Is that good enough or do you want me to continue?" Val was staring at
him now, with complete surprise. Tyler sighed. "Just forget it, okay? I already
get that you don't like me." He shook his head and began to walk away.
"Wait."
Val grabbed his sleeve and turned him towards her. "I can't dance alone."
"What?"
He didn't understand… did she want to dance with him? Knowing that he
liked her? Knowing they might end up kissing again? That meant she didn't hate
him…thank God…
"Will
you dance with me?"
"There's
no music."
"I
wouldn't be able to hear it anyway," she told him, sliding her arms around his
neck for the second time that night.
"Val—"
"Shh.
Don't argue," she requested, resting her head on his shoulder.
"You
know I'm just going to end up kissing you, don't you?"
"Did
I ever say I didn't want you to?"
"I
guess if you put it that way…"
Val
smiled. "Guess what?"
"What?"
Their lips were so close together he could feel her breath stinging his mouth
teasingly.
"I
like you too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Tyler
grinned and brought his lips to hers with all the softness of a spring breeze.
"Told you so," he murmured, pulling away.
"I'm
not resisting, am I?" she responded, reconnecting their mouths.
It
felt so right to be kissing her. He wanted to feel guilty because maybe
he'd end up hurting her, maybe he was invading her personal space too much,
but—he couldn't, not when it felt so incredibly perfect.
"You
need to stop being so good at kissing," he informed her, catching his breath.
Val grinned.
"That
was a compliment, right?" she inquired. Tyler returned the grin.
"Oh,
well, definitely."
"Good."
"Everyone's
going to rub this in our faces. Us liking each other, I mean."
"Do
you care what everyone thinks?"
"Not
right now."
Tyler
tightened his grip on Val and they danced in silence.
YAY! Suckiness! I'm back from
camp, in case you hadn't noticed. FF.N is not being my friend. Is it being
yours? Whoo, I'm also hyper. Bye… please review. PLEASE??? Pretty
PLEEEEEEEEEASE?
---IVY
