Author's Notes: I finally finished this chapter :D Sorry about the wait. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to Deidre, Angel and the repeat reviewers for all the great feedback!!
Chapter Fourteen — Baby Don't Get Hooked On MeIt had been a fragmented weekend.
Tamsin was very glad that she was able to spend some time with Ronnie after having been so busy during the past week, but she still couldn't stop thinking about the strange awareness that came over her whenever Michael was near. She knew when he was in the same room as she, knew when he was looking at her, knew when he was coming her way. It was disturbing.
She thought the English assignment would be the last of it, but then she found out that afternoon that Michael had joined the Silhouette staff. The editors were only too happy to have him after he showed them samples of his work that were published in a Seattle magazine. "Melissa looks like she's recruited the blue-chip rookie of the season," Liz laughed in the girls' room after the latest staff meeting. "I can't blame her, though — I mean, he's been published in a real magazine with paying subscribers and everything!"
"That's quite a coup for someone his age," Tamsin agreed.
"Yeah, but it's no surprise given his IQ. I heard it's rated above 'Superior.'"
Tamsin's ears pricked up for some reason. "Is it?" she asked nonchalantly.
"That's what I heard. He acts like it, too. We have Chemistry and Social Studies together and the teachers just love him."
She gave a funny little laugh. "That sounds creepy."
Liz gave her a playful slug on the shoulder. "You know what I mean."
"Do the students love him, too?"
The younger girl looked confused. "What?"
Tamsin blushed. She could not believe she was pumping Liz for information on Michael. "You know…do they think of him as a nerd or something? Does he have any friends?" Does he have any girlfriends? I can't believe I'm asking this!
Liz shrugged. "Well, the people in class are pretty polite to him, but I don't see him hanging out with anyone in particular." She then chuckled. "Robin thinks he's cute."
"He's not bad-looking."
"Yeah, and he's smart, too. I guess he's pretty cute," Liz finally admitted, "but he's not my type."
"Oh?" Tamsin asked as they finally left the girls' room. They had stayed inside a bit longer than usual for some reason. "And what is your type?"
"Hey, Liz," a male voice said presently. "Ready to go?"
It was Ryan. He was standing out in the hall, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. A dull flush stole over his cheeks when he saw that Liz wasn't alone. "Hey, Tamsin."
"Hi, Ryan," Tamsin replied. She looked on in amazement when the blond boy, his face now flaming, took her friend's hand.
"Uh, do you need a ride anywhere?" he asked her.
She grinned and shook her head. This was unbelievable and yet somehow so right. "No, thank you."
"See you tomorrow, then."
"Yeah, see you. Take care." Tamsin smiled at her friend. "'Bye, Liz."
Liz shot her a sheepish grin. "I couldn't believe it, either," she said.
* * *
There were many familiar faces in the library that Thursday as Uncle Jon's students prepared for the oral reports they would be giving in class the next day. It was a good thing that she and Michael had begun their research early, Tamsin thought as she said hi to Blue for the fifth time in the past half-hour. With all of Ronnie's friends dropping by to check on her, they would not have been able to get much done if they had decided to cram like many others were doing. "It was a great idea to research about the social situation at the time and see whether it fit the sentiment of the poem," she complimented Michael.
He smiled. "Thanks. Hopefully, Mr. Graham will eat it up."
"He does appreciate it if you go the extra mile on an assignment. So, I will be talking about the interpretation of the poem on a personal level, and you'll be doing the thing about the social situation?"
"That's right."
"I'd better mention it in the beginning of the report. To show teamwork or something."
"Good idea," Michael said as he watched her make a note on her index card. "I think this is going to be a great presentation."
Tamsin smiled. "So do I." She put down her pen and stretched her cramped fingers. "Well, I'd say we're done, wouldn't you?"
"And with plenty of time to spare," he agreed. "Hey, how about hanging out someplace? You know, to celebrate the completion of our report?"
She blushed and shifted uneasily in her seat. "Uh, our report won't be done until tomorrow, when we actually present it."
"So, how about we go hang out someplace tomorrow?"
"Oh, I shouldn't," she blurted out. "I mean I couldn't."
"Why not? Are you on a diet?" Michael regarded her intently. "You don't need one, you know."
"No, it's not that," she stammered. "I—"
Just then, a very familiar form materialized by their table. "Hey, Tamsin. Hey, Mike."
"Hi, Ronnie." Tamsin smiled brightly up at the blond boy and at his English partner. "Hi, Alison."
"Hi, Tamsin," the brown-haired girl replied with a smile. "Finished with your report?"
"Yeah, just about."
"Lucky you. We still have quite a bit to do."
"We'll be done in plenty of time, though," Ronnie added.
Tamsin smiled and patted his arm. "Of course you will."
He grinned at her, and then glanced at Michael, who had been watching the exchange. "Hey, listen," Ronnie said to Tamsin, "are you still coming to dinner at our house tomorrow?" He arched an eyebrow. "My mom's been cooking since Monday and she'll be really upset if you just suddenly canceled!"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she assured him, letting her hand slide down his arm to squeeze his hand.
He grinned and squeezed back. "Good."
* * *
The next day, February 2nd, was Ground Hog Day. On the radio, it was announced that a ground hog had ventured out of its hole and not been frightened of its shadow, signifying that an end to winter was nigh. "Thank God," Gerry remarked as he wheeled to English class with his friends that afternoon. "I was getting sick of sticking to the cold metal on my wheelchair."
"Ouch." Tamsin winced sympathetically. "What I don't like is the static. I can barely touch anything."
The Titans chuckled and Ronnie grinned. Just moments ago, she had snatched her hand back from Ronnie with a little hiss of pain. "Stop trying to pin it on the static, Tamsin!" Alan joked. "Why don't you just admit that there are real sparks between you and Sunshine?"
"It's not just Ronnie," she told him. "I can't touch anything without a spark jumping out at me. It must be my electrifying personality."
They were laughing when they entered the classroom and Uncle Jon smiled at the sight of them. "Ready to give your reports?" he asked brightly.
"As ready as we'll ever be," Blue replied. "But that doesn't mean you can make us go first, though."
Uncle Jon chuckled as the final bell rang. "Noted. All right, everyone," he said to the class, "please take your seats so that we may begin."
"Good luck," Ronnie told Tamsin, touching her hand before following his friends to their seats in the back row.
Michael gave her a small, reassuring smile as she took her own seat next to him. "We'll do just fine."
"I know," she replied as Uncle Jon began calling pairs forward to give their reports.
Ronnie and Alison were called on first to deliver their report on Sylvia Plath's "Mirror." Tamsin was happy to note that they sounded prepared even though they had been rushing to finish their research yesterday afternoon. She smiled and led the applause when they were done, hoping that she and Michael would sound just as good when their turn came.
Modesty aside, their report turned out even better than Tamsin had expected. They had outlined their report and so each had a good idea of what the other was going to say. They switched off effortlessly, as synchronized as a pair of flying trapeze artists.
Tamsin stood back as Michael took over. She was glowing from what she felt had been a damn good speech. She was sure that she had covered everything and her audience had laughed all her jokes.
Michael wasn't making any jokes, but he spoke confidently, barely glancing at the 3x5's in his hand. He moved well, too. Tamsin watched him pace behind the teacher's table, exuding this unbelievable energy. He would make a good actor, she thought. She imagined him on Broadway. Perhaps he would write as well as star in a play that would change the world.
Perhaps she could help him with his lines.
Just then, Tamsin caught sight of Ronnie grinning proudly at her. She managed a smile in return, embarrassed by her thoughts.
* * *
That night, Tamsin had dinner at the Basses' as planned.
"It is getting a bit warmer," Ronnie observed as he escorted Tamsin up the frozen driveway to the Basses' front door.
She laughed. "Behold the power of suggestion." But in truth, the weather was no longer as dry as it had been a few days ago. There was a definite hint of moisture, of thawing, in the air.
They reached the front door and Ronnie opened it to let her through. "Hey, Mom, Dad, we're here," he hollered as he helped Tamsin out of her coat and hung it on a peg in the hall closet.
Col. and Mrs. Bass appeared as Ronnie was putting away his own coat. "Good evening," Tamsin greeted them politely.
"Hello there, Tamsin," Col. Bass replied. "Happy Ground Hog Day."
"Happy Ground Hog Day," she echoed with a smile, and proffered the covered dish she was holding to Ronnie's mother. "This is for you. Thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Mrs. Bass told her. "It's always a pleasure having you here."
Ronnie took a deep breath as they walked toward the living room. The scents of spicy meat, onions and cinnamon blended together with a dozen others into a combination that made his mouth water. "Dinner sure smells good, Mom."
"Thank you, dear." His mother smiled at him, then at Tamsin. "I hope you like Mexican food, Tamsin."
"I haven't really had it," she admitted, "but I'm always willing to try something new."
"Good for you," Col. Bass praised. "Now, Ronnie, here, was quite the picky eater when he was younger…"
They sat down to a dinner of guacamole, chicken enchiladas, and sweet corn salad. A platter of fried "elephants' ears" pastries waited on the sideboard. "Well, I must say that it's very nice to see you again," Mrs. Bass said as she passed Tamsin the salad. "We haven't seen you around much lately."
"Well, we've all been rather busy," Tamsin replied as she spooned some onto her plate. "Besides finishing up on college applications, we had a lot of schoolwork."
"You were saying something about an English report the other day," Col. Bass remarked to his son. "How did that go?"
"Pretty good," Ronnie replied. "It wasn't anything major — we just had to report in class about a poem Mr. Graham assigned us, that's all." He smiled at Tamsin. "Tamsin's group gave the best one."
She blushed at the compliment. "Yours was very good, too."
"Yeah, well, yours was impressive." The words kind of stuck in his craw because he was in a way saying something nice about Michael Cardinal, but he got them out nonetheless. "It was a great idea to apply your poem to the social situation at the time it was written."
"We just got lucky that they fit together so well."
Mrs. Bass smiled and helped herself to another enchilada. "Have you decided on a major, Tamsin?" she asked.
Tamsin smiled and shrugged. "Right now it's a toss-up between English and maybe something in business. My mom says either one is fine, but I'm trying to look for a major that's both interesting and practical."
"Ronnie is thinking of majoring in business, too," Col. Bass said. He grinned. "But I guess you already know that."
* * *
"You didn't have to drive me home," Tamsin said as the Basses' car pulled up outside her house after dinner that night.
"Sure I did," Ronnie replied. "We can't have you going home by yourself at this time of night."
He helped her out of the car and they started up the front walk, toward the porch light that shone warmly in the still, silent night. The patches of snow on the lawn, reflecting the golden light, glittered like piles of yellow diamonds. "It is getting warmer," Tamsin remarked.
Ronnie chuckled and took her hand to keep her from slipping. "You could have agreed with me when I said so earlier."
"Well, I didn't feel it earlier. It must have been all the chili."
"Oops, sorry about that. My dad and I like it really spicy."
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I wasn't complaining, even though it was really spicy." They came to a stop outside her door. "Well, good night."
"Good night." He leaned down and kissed her, lips moving warmly over hers, cupping her cheek tenderly with his free hand. He pulled away only when the porch light started blinking, a sure sign that Mr. Graham was just inside, waiting for Tamsin to come in. "Sweet dreams."
"After a kiss like that, I'm sure I will."
Ronnie chuckled. "Me, too. I'll call you tomorrow, all right?" He smiled when she nodded. "We really should start planning for Valentine's Day. It's coming up soon."
"Yeah, OK."
* * *
Tamsin called New York the next evening and was startled at how tired her mother sounded. "Mom! You sound terrible!"
"I had a really tough rehearsal today, Tamsin," Diana replied wearily.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Were you sleeping when I called? Maybe I should call back tomorrow when you're more rested."
"That won't be necessary, sweetie. I can stand to talk for a while."
She twisted the telephone cord around her index finger. It snagged briefly on the charm bracelet Ronnie had given her. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired, sweetie, but very glad to hear from you."
Tamsin smiled. "Tell me about that play you're in right now."
"Ah, I'm afraid it's still off-Broadway," her mother told her, "but it's very interesting. It's a hospital drama and I play the star patient."
"Well, you've always been good at playing sick, helpless people," she laughed, remembering the countless mornings her mother had spent draped on the couch, nursing a hangover from last night's wild party.
"Very funny."
"I was just kidding, Mom."
"I know, sweetie."
She drummed her fingers on the countertop all through the short pause that followed. "Are you sure you're feeling all right, Mom? I really think I should just call back another time and let you get some rest."
"It's up to you."
Tamsin cringed. Her mother sounded terrible. "I guess I'll just call you back tomorrow. I'm feeling really guilty right now."
"And besides, Mr. Wonderful might also be trying to call you?"
She laughed. "That's right, but I was thinking more about you than I was about him back there."
"Someday I really should speak to that boy. Goodness knows how far you two have gone and I haven't even met him."
"You barely missed anything, Mom," Tamsin replied, her cheeks red. "So, I guess I'll talk to you some other time, OK?"
"All right, darling."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
* * *
We really should start planning for Valentine's Day. It's coming up soon.
For a long time afterward, Ronnie would remember what he had said that night on her doorstep and kick himself because, as it happened, they never made it to Valentine's Day.
It all fell apart on the evening of February 10th, when he had taken her to the Hill for the second and last time.
"Ronnie," Tamsin murmured as her head bumped gently against the Charger's passenger-side window, "I think we should stop."
He chuckled and nipped her earlobe. "You think? You're not sure?"
She laughed shakily and tried to twist away. "No, I'm sure. We don't want another cop to come by and really get an eyeful, now, do we?"
"No, I guess not." Ronnie sighed and sat back, holding her quietly until his heartbeat returned to normal. "This is getting harder and harder," he observed, running a lazy hand over her back. She stayed rigid in his arms. "Hey, you're tense. Is anything wrong?"
"No," Tamsin replied, slipping out of his embrace. "Not really."
He watched her turn away from him. "Tamsin, something's wrong. Is this about your mom?"
She shook her head as she began drawing a flower on the misty windowpane. "I spoke to her last weekend and she sounded tired and I am worried about her, but that's not it."
"What is it, then? Talk to me. Maybe I can help."
She laughed again. Her laughter sounded unusually high and shrill to both of them. "No, you can't."
"Well, sometimes it helps just to talk about it, and I'm willing to listen."
"Are you?"
"Yes, Tamsin; now, what is it that's bothering you?"
Tamsin was silent for a moment. He heard her take a deep breath before she turned to look at him. "What if I told you I wanted to go out with another guy?"
Ronnie's entire chest seized up. It was just like the time Kip Tyler had tackled him during the game against Groveton earlier in the school year. No, this was worse. But he forced himself to take a deep breath and release it slowly. "Ah."
"Yeah." She dropped her gaze and fidgeted with the charm on the bracelet he had given her. "Ronnie, I'm not unhappy. You've been—you are wonderful, and I care about you a lot. It's just that you're my first…my first boyfriend, and…"
It was the first time she had ever called him her boyfriend and it had to be when she was dumping him. "And you want a chance to play the field," he said.
"I want to be able to make an informed decision."
Ronnie bowed his head. A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself because he remembered that phrase from Ms. Johnson's Social Studies class. "Everyone has that right, especially when it comes to choosing the people they're going to spend the rest of their lives with. I'm not saying you and I are going to do that, of course, but—anyway, I know what you mean."
There was a tense silence. "So…are you letting me go?" Tamsin ventured.
"Well, I can't make you stay."
"Ronnie, please don't be mad at me. I want us to still be friends."
"I'm not mad, Tamsin," he assured her. "And I want us to still be friends, too."
"I'm really sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about. You didn't do anything wrong."
There was a clinking sound and when Ronnie looked up, he saw that she was removing her bracelet. "I can give this back to you, if you want," Tamsin offered.
"No. Keep it." He reached out to refasten it around her wrist. "It's a gift…from one friend to another."
She smiled tremulously and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."
Tamsin then leaned over to give him a goodbye kiss. She was aiming for his cheek, but Ronnie turned his head at the last moment so that their lips met one brief, final time. He stroked her cheek as she drew back. "Well, I guess I'd better drive you home, then."
He started the car and they drove back to Gartner Street in silence. On the way there, Carole King began to sing "It's Too Late" on the radio. Ronnie thought the melancholy song added the crowning touch to the evening.
And it's too late, baby
Now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died
And I can't hide and I just can't fake it…
Concluding Remarks: I hope I managed to show that Tamsin is really interested in Michael. Please let me know if I did OK — reviews make great birthday gifts! ;-)