Before The Boys Say No Part 4

He leaned in to me earnestly. "I'm saying that you're the real deal. You're like the women in those paintings. You're a piece of art."

That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Seriously. Especially the way I looked right then. I felt my eyes tearing up. I tried to stop them, but I couldn't. The tears ran down my cheeks. I grabbed a napkin and swiped at them, wincing at the roughness on my burned skin.

"You are so nice, Brody."

"I mean it, Bea. Don't let people make you feel less than you are. Between the two of us, they're the ones with the problem. I mean, they've gotta be real insecure if they have to try to make other people feel bad."

I couldn't believe I was hearing those words from Brody. That's what Lanie and her friends did all the time. But they had nothing to be insecure about. I wondered if he was including them when he said that.

"Thanks, Brody," I whispered. I really needed to blow my nose, but that would not be pretty.

He grinned and picked up his pizza. "Come on. Eat with me."

I laughed and grabbed my slice. "How come you want to be a chef?" I asked in between bites.

He pushed the rest of his pizza in his mouth and reached for a third slice. "I've always loved cooking. Of course, my dad couldn't stand it. I would rather bake a cake than go play football. Don't go telling anyone that."

I shook my head and reached for my third slice. I was starting to feel full, but the pizza was so good and it was nice to have a chance to talk with Brody without interruptions.

"Anyway," he continued, "I got the chance to spend the summer in Italy. I spent most of my time begging the chefs to let me watch them. You know when you just have this feeling inside about something--it's just so right for you?"

I nodded. "That's how I feel about debate."

"Yeah. Well, that's when I decided I was going to be a chef, too. Of course, I can't tell my parents. My dad wants me to play football and my mom--she just wants me to be successful. Status means a lot to them. They're part of the country club and all that."

"Just tell them how you feel," I said softly.

He shook his head. "It's not like it is in your family, Bea. You don't know how lucky you are to be able to share your feelings with your parents."

"Yeah? Well, a lot of good it's done. They're still determined to find me a husband. After all, that's what good Italian girls do--get married and have babies."

Brody laughed. I loved the way the light hit his blue eyes and made them sparkle. I was going to cherish this time with him. I knew I wouldn't have another chance to be alone with him once school started.

He wiped his mouth and sighed. "I'm full."

I put the rest of my pizza back on the plate. Our time together was done. I slowly stood with him and grabbed the pizza pan from the table. He still had the kitchen to clean. It was so late, but I followed him back and started wiping the counters and putting away food and spices while he scrubbed the grill.

It was past one in the morning before I locked the restaurant doors. Brody gave me a small hug and walked me to my car. Just like that, we said goodnight and went our separate ways. I felt like I was floating on a cloud for the rest of the week. Too bad that feeling couldn't last forever.

CHAPTER 4.

If there's anything I truly detest, it's being late. That's how I started the first day of my senior year. My alarm did not go off. Don't ask me why. I checked it three times before I went to bed. I had exactly twenty-four minutes to make it to my first cla.s.s.

I jumped up with a cry and made a mad dash to the bathroom. It was locked. I heard my mom's voice humming in the shower. I couldn't believe it. She knew I had to get ready. Dad was singing down the hall so I knew he was using his bathroom.

I rushed back to my room and started pulling on my clothes. Mom and Marge had taken me out shopping for school clothes. They tried to push me into some tight fitting s.h.i.+rts, insisting I show off my figure, but I refused. I wanted to hide my b.o.o.bs, not accentuate them. I settled on some loose fitting tops and jeans. What I really enjoyed was shopping for debate clothes. I found the most intimidating suits I could and matched blouses with them. This was my final year in debate and I was going out with a bang. Of course, Mom and Marge didn't enjoy suit shopping at all. Especially when I threw out all their advice to show a little cleavage and wear something softer.

"But you'll scare the boys away in those suits," Mom protested.

"That's the point, Mom. I want to scare the boys and the girls."

Mom also took me to Kitty, her hair dresser. I loved my trim and the way I walked out of there with silky, s.h.i.+ny locks. Of course, no way could I do that on my own. I don't care how many hair products Kitty insisted I needed, I just couldn't do my own hair.

I looked at the clock, feeling panic setting in. My yellow s.h.i.+rt looked about as good as I was going to find for the first day of school. I pulled on a pair of jeans that hung slightly over my hips. That was the problem with my body shape. The pants fits tight in the hips and really loose in the waist. To avoid highlighting the size of my hips, I had to just bear with the loose waist jeans.

I brushed out my hair. It was fizzy as usual. I squirted some of the leave in conditioner on it that Kitty had persuaded me to buy. It did help a little. A dash of mascara and lipgloss and that was all I had time for. My skin still had splotchy dry spots where it had peeled off. I'd just have to deal with it.

"You all ready?" Mom asked from the doorway. "I turned off your alarm so you could catch a little more sleep."

"Mom," I yelled. "You turned off my alarm? I'm freaking out here. I'm going to be late for school."

"Well, honey, I heard you up late last night and knew you needed your beauty rest for the big day. Besides, you were snoring pretty loud when I came to check on you earlier."

I just shook my head and scrambled to grab my school items. "Where's my other shoe?"

Mom walked into the room and pulled up some discarded shoes. There was the other sandal. She handed it to me with a rueful smile. I couldn't be mad at her for long. She was always trying to help me.

"Bye," I yelled and ran out of the house. I had twelve minutes to get to school. We only lived a couple minutes away, but I knew traffic was going to be heavy. Dad had gotten my car fixed and I appreciated the lack of shaking I had put up with before.

I arrived at school with almost every other senior. It seemed we were all running late. The only difference was that it bothered me. They seemed to enjoy sauntering in late and getting attention.

I found a parking spot and darted to my first cla.s.s. English. I was so excited to be in Ms. McEnroy's cla.s.s. She was hard, but fair. I slid into a seat just as the first bell rang. Half the cla.s.s was still missing. Ms. McEnroy made small talk with us as other students filed in to fill the desks.

My breath caught in my throat when Brody appeared. He didn't see me and was forced to take a seat at the front of the room. I wondered why he was so late. He had already made friends with a lot of the kids over the summer, so he seemed right at home in the school.

I forced my attention to Ms. McEnroy as she went over her expectations for the cla.s.s and gave us a copy of the syllabus. And just like that, I was back in school. Only this was senior year.

I floated from cla.s.s to cla.s.s, waving to kids that I hadn't seen all summer. Johanna caught up with me in between cla.s.ses. She looked cute in her khakis and silky blouse. It had yellow daisies all over it which suited her.

She grabbed my elbow excitedly. "Dale Jerry just asked me to Homecoming. Can you believe that? On the first day of school."

I tried to swallow my jealousy. It's not that I wasn't happy for Johanna; it's just that I knew I wouldn't have a date. And it was my senior year.

"That's great," I said with a forced smile.

She could read me. She knew I was faking it and why. "I could ask him if he has a friend so we can double date," she offered.

"Don't be crazy," I said. "Besides, I'm going to be so busy with debate."

"How's your new partner?"

"He's--he's really getting it," I said. "Look, I need to run. Debate's next and I don't want to be late."

"Sure," Johanna replied. "Want to meet at lunch?"

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder as I rushed to debate cla.s.s. Jared was already at the door, waiting on me. He was wearing jeans and a green T-s.h.i.+rt with boots. Standard Aggie uniform. He proudly flashed a large silver belt buckle at me.

"Look here, Beatrice. I won first place in my division at the rodeo."

"That's great," I muttered in a low voice. "Now, let's focus on debate. Just don't talk in here, okay? I'll do the talking for both of us."

He nodded. I was glad he let me take the lead. He followed me into the cla.s.sroom that was buzzing with activity. The noise died down when I entered. All eyes turned to Jared. The champion had arrived and the curiosity about my new partner was high. At least that's what I was telling myself. Until I heard the snorts of laughter. Jared made me look desperate for a partner. I was, but I didn't want everyone else to know that.

Mr. Robarb stood up from his desk with a grin. "I was wondering when you were going to get here, Beatrice. This your new partner?"

"This is Jared," I said, trying not to bite my lip from nervousness.

"Jared, glad to have you with us," Mr. Robarb said. "You've got a good partner there. We're excited to see you both in action."

Poor Jared. He was out of his league and he knew it. He mumbled something and took a quick seat by the door. I sat down behind him. Not because I wanted to; I was just afraid he was going to make a run for the door and I could catch him before he escaped.

I could feel the eyes of the other students throughout cla.s.s. I was unusually quiet. In the past, I pretty much ran the debate squad and Mr. Robarb sat on the sidelines. This year, everyone felt a change. No longer was I the champion to chase, but I was the big fat mouth to squash. All those years of running my mouth had caught up with me. I felt myself losing confidence as I sat with my b.u.t.t squeezed into the seat.

I had to form some kind of strategy or all those hours spent researching was going to be wasted. Besides, I wanted that state trophy so bad I could taste it. I might look like the underdog going into our first debate in two weeks, but I refused to go down without a fight.

Jared, on the other hand, looked like a dog slinking away with his tail between his legs before he had even begun the fight. He had slid so far down on his seat that only his head was peeping over the back of it. I reached out and popped his ear with my pencil. He grabbed the red spot my pencil left and turned his head to look at me. I motioned for him to sit up. Grudgingly, he obliged.

After cla.s.s, he darted out the door without a word to me. Sue and Jason came up to me, hardly able to contain their gloating.

"Is this Jared's first year in debate?" Jason asked with a knowing grin.

"Yep," I replied, shuffling some loose papers I pulled from my backpack.

"Well, good luck with that," he said and walked away with Sue scurrying to keep up. I heard them laughing in the hall and felt my face getting hot.

Leslie sauntered up, felling full of herself. Next to me, she was the strongest debater. And she had the Blimp on her side. He could think quickly on his feet, but just had problems voicing his thoughts out loud. She was pretty confident in them winning state this year.

"Hi Beatrice," she said cooly. "Looks like you've got a lot of work to do with that one."

"Hey Leslie," I said. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started for the door, but she grabbed my arm.

"Serves you right, you know. You can only be a dictator for so long before someone knocks you off your throne," she said in a low voice.

I shook her arm off and stared her in the eyes. "You think you're going to knock me off my throne, Leslie? Sue and Jason have a better chance than you."

Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to retort, but I didn't give her a chance. I s.h.i.+fted my backpack and hurried to the door. Outside, I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure Jared would even be back, but at least the first day back in the debate room was over.

"Hey, Bea," Brody yelled from outside a cla.s.sroom across the courtyard.

He was standing with some other guys who looked at me with curiosity. I remembered our talk, so I ignored my first instinct to turn and run the other way. I gave him a smile and waved. Guess what? It felt good to see other kids around me gasp with surprise. Especially Leslie, who had followed me outside to try to continue her tirade.

I felt a confidence in my step as I walked to lunch. Having Brody as a friend just might help me in school. Or not. Lanie and her troupe of girls pushed past me just then, elbowing me out of the way. So much for any confidence I had felt a minute ago.

I paid for a bagged lunch and made my way to the table Johanna and I had eaten at since ninth grade. But she wasn't there. I searched the crowd of kids gathered at tables and spotted her daisy s.h.i.+rt in the middle of a group of kids. She was sitting next to Dale Jerry. She was so busy laughing at something he said that she didn't notice me standing at our table. Alone.

I sat down and opened the bag of lunch. It was a turkey sandwich on soggy white bread. A bag of cheap, stale chips and an applesauce made up the rest of the lunch. I didn't feel hungry, after all. As a matter of fact, I felt like throwing up. I took the lunch bag and threw it into the trash.

There was nowhere to hide out at lunch, so I went to the bathroom and locked myself into a stall. I could hear girls come and go, laughing and talking about vain and shallow things. I didn't fit in. Oh, I fooled myself with debate. I didn't fit in there either, but I forced my way in like a bull in a china shop. I was a big girl who didn't have anyone to hang out with at lunch.

I stayed in the stall until I heard the bell ring. There was a last minute rush of girls in the bathroom to check makeup and teeth. I took advantage of the activity and snuck out of the stall, unnoticed.

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully. I was happy to hear the final bell and rush out of the cla.s.sroom with the other kids to go home. Except, I had to go to work.

Aunt Roma greeted me at the door, full of smiles and questions. I gave her short answers and went to pull an ap.r.o.n on. She rounded the corner and crossed her arms to watch me.

"What's up, b.u.t.tercup?" She had called me that as I little girl and it was weird to hear her say it now that I was older.

"Aunt Roma," I sighed. "How come I have such a problem making friends?"

"No offense, honey, but I don't see you trying to make friends," she replied.

"I guess. It's kind of crazy, but for the first time, I really felt lonely. Johanna already has a date for Homecoming and she sat next to him at lunch. Then, everyone laughed at my debate partner and Leslie called me a dictator. I guess I just need to wait till debate is in full swing."

"I think you hide behind your debate," she said bluntly. "This is your senior year. Why don't you give it up and live a little?"

I gasped out loud. Give up my precious debate? Never. Aunt Roma knew how I felt about debate. I couldn't believe those words would ever come out of her mouth.

"Listen, honey," she said with a sigh. "You've been on this crazy debate team throughout high school. You don't give yourself a chance to date, and the few times you've had a chance to date a guy, you blow it with your big Italian mouth."

"I can't argue with that, Aunt Roma, but I'm not giving up debate. This is my last year and I've invested too much time preparing. Besides, I would never give those kids the satisfaction of seeing me give up. They're all waiting for my demise."

Aunt Roma laughed. "Don't be so dramatic, Bea. No one wants to see your demise."

"Those debate vultures do," I insisted.

"Think about it," she urged. "Date or debate?"

"I want both," I groaned. "And don't say anything to Mom or Dad. They'll have me a long line of old men lined up to take me to Homecoming."

The door opened just then so Aunt Roma rushed to greet the customers. Dean was whistling at the counter. I went around to see if I needed to deliver anything to the floor. Two baskets of breadsticks were waiting under the heat lamp.

"I heard what you said to Aunt Roma," he said quietly.

"Pig," I hissed. "Stop spying on me."

"Aunt Roma's right, Bea. You've got to watch your mouth. Sure, we talk that way in front of the family, but no one outside us understands."

"Thanks for your advice, Dean, but I didn't ask for it."

I grabbed the breadsticks and started out to the floor. His only response was to start whistling again. I knew he was right. My big fat mouth had caused me more enemies than friends. Being soft just wasn't in my nature though.