Maybe Me Page 9

  When I was done, she did a little clap. Then she said, “Hey, I have a new shirt you should totally try on. I bet you’d look amazing in it.”

  She pulled it out from her closet.

  It was really pretty. I thought maybe she was going to let me borrow it. Maybe because I showed her some awesome new dance moves she could work into her cheer routine? (Yeah, I had no idea why she was being so nice to me. But I kept coming up with stuff I thought was plausible.) I was actually beginning to think maybe, possibly she wanted to be my actual friend, not just my ‘semi-friend’ anymore. I didn’t really care either way.

  So …

  “Okay,” I said with a shrug. I took her fancy shirt and was about to pull off mine, when suddenly I heard a voice.

  “Wait!” the male voice said. “Jazz, don’t change. I’m here. I’m watching.”

  My heart ricocheted off my rib-cage. What the—????

  I quickly pulled my shirt back down and looked around the room, bewildered, embarrassed, and CONFUSED!!!!

  “I’m on the computer,” the voice explained.

  I whipped toward the open laptop on Sabrina’s desk.

  With a red face, Sabrina quickly hit a button on the computer and poof—there was Jonah on the screen.

  JONAH!!!!!!

  Mr. Peeping Tom.

  Apparently, we were on video-chat, but Sabrina had turned off the view from our end—so Jonah could see us, but all we could see was a blank screen … until Jonah outed Sabrina. (And himself.)

  Man! She had totally let him stalk me!!!

  “Sorry,” Jonah said quickly, sounding sincerely apologetic. “I just wanted to see you dance, Jazz—that was it. Don’t be mad at Sabrina, though. I paid her to let me.”

  But at the same time he said that, he also texted me: “But she let me pay her, and she flirted with me … and she doesn’t seem like a very good friend to you.”

  No. She didn’t!

  I threw her shirt at her and stormed out of her house. She didn’t come after me, apologizing, or anything. (Sabrina is slime.)

  Down the block a ways, Jonah was waiting for me. Like he knew I was going to come storming by any second. (Stalker!!!)

  “I just wanted to see you dance, Jazz—that was it,” he said. “And see you acting normal—not like you do when I’m around. Since you act like I’m a stalker.”

  “Which you ARE!” I yelled. “You said Sabrina’s not a good friend, but neither are you.”

  He winced at my words, like I slugged him, hard, but also like he knew it was true.

  Good. ‘Cause it was.

  “You’re not any better of a friend than she is,” I yelled.

  He set his jaw muscles. “Well, I stopped you from changing in front of me.”

  Okay, point taken. Sabrina was the devil. And okay, he was better than the devil. (But hey, who isn’t?)

  “Just stay away from me,” I growled at him.

  With resign he slowly nodded. “Okay.”

  ***

  Jonah did stay away from me after that. It was like he knew he blew it. Any chance he had with me (and face it, he didn’t have any after peeking in my window—and having Luke threaten to kill him if he came anywhere near me ever again). But still, it was like that day he knew: I was nothing but disturbed by him now.

  Right after that, freaky Lily moved into town. She seemed to sway Jonah’s attention. Like actually held it and kept it away from me—well, as far as I knew anyway. That is, until Jonah’s car collided into mine and I went into that freakin’ coma.

  Then his psycho stalker feelings for me seemed to zoom back to the surface.

  And suddenly he’s back to stalking me. With a vengeance.

  CHAPTER 6

  Alone in my room, I contemplate Jonah. What exactly is going on in his strange mind? First he took over my locker—the only place at school that is mine—now he’s manipulating my crush-struck sister. It’s as though he is forcing his way into everything in my life.

  Finally, I grab my guitar and start to play. Sometimes playing helps calm me down. Sometimes. But not tonight. The thought haunts my brain—Jonah in my room, alone—tucking me in my bed. Shudder, shudder.

  It’s beyond creepy.

  Thump, thump.

  There’s a knock at my window. I swear, I jump like a mile in the air. But it’s not Jonah come from Stalker-Ville. It’s Luke from next-door. So I guess I’ll be okay. Eventually. Though my heart is still pounding wild and crazy. But now it’s just because it’s Luke. (Luke!!!) (At my window!!!)

  Luke gives me the peace sign, then opens my window.

  “Hey,” he says, coming in as though he does this sort of thing all the time, which he doesn’t. Anymore.

  “Hey,” I tell him back, glancing around my room. It’s kind of embarrassing having him come in like this, my bra and underwear from yesterday in a heap at his feet. That’s something I could do without.

  Still, of course I’m thrilled to see him. But I play it chill. You know, since I’m ‘friend zoned.’ And he has Miss Gorgeous High, Gia, totally in ‘girlfriend zone.’ Totally. Ugh! I hate her so much. (Mostly because she hates me. But I would probably hate her anyway. You know, since she has Luke all gaga eyed over her—this week. He’ll probably be on to someone new next week though. So, ha!) (Well, sort of.) Anyway, they fight all the time. Okay … mostly about me suddenly. But no way am I going to feel guilty. He’ll dump her soon. He dumps them all.

  I kick at a pair of dirty socks at my feet and tell him mildly, “You almost gave me a heart-attack.” (But I don’t explain why my heart was attacking—that I was struck with fantasy-visions of him coming through my window, lovingly taking me into his awesome Luke-arms and kissing me blind. No-o. No need for him to know that—ever. You know, since there’s that big neon stamp on my forehead, “Friend Zone.” Still, I can’t get the memory of him holding me in his arms this morning at school out of my mushy brain. It makes it so I can barely look at him. Since I’m all mushed-up about it. Blush.)

  “Sorry,” he says, apologizing about my him-induced heart attack (that he innocently thinks is just from shock—and not blazing hot lust). “I’ve been texting you all day,” he says, “but you never wrote me back.” He straddles the chair at my desk. “And I would’ve used the door, only it’s kind of late. I thought maybe your mom would be mad.”

  “She wouldn’t.” My mom is really calm. It takes a lot to make her mad.

  “Yeah, well,” Luke raises his brow, “then I guess I used the window for old-time’s sake.”

  Since I can’t think of anything to say to that, I just nod.

  Back when we were kids Luke and I used to crawl through each other’s windows all the time. We never used doors. But that was a long time ago. Before he became super popular. And before I started wearing a bra.

  “How are you doing?” His voice is all gentle. It tugs at my heart.

  I put down my guitar. “Smokin.’”

  He breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, you sounded smokin.’ I heard you through the window. You’re getting really good.”

  I shrug, but I’m embarrassingly pleased. That means a lot coming from Luke. He’s been playing a long time. He’s awesome.

  He picks up my guitar and plays something now. It’s soft and pretty and kind of sad. I wonder if he wrote it himself. He writes most of his band’s songs—the good ones anyway.

  I sit listening to him in gooey awe.

  He catches me gazing at him all dreamy-eyed and smiles. “You like it?”

  I nod, realizing I’ve been holding my breath—ogling and admiring. And totally fantasizing. I clear my throat and wipe my now drenched palms on my jeans. “It’s pretty.” I clear my throat again, trying to shake the mushy-crush-y thoughts swimming through my stalker-girl brain. I stammer out, “Did you write it yourself?”

  He plays a little more. “Yeah.” He peeks up at me as he plays, “I’m writing it for you.”

  My lips part. Whoa.

  Tingles whoosh through
me, sparking and dancing and making me dizzy.

  He gazes at me curiously. The way his heated eyes are glued to mine has me on fire.

  We’re totally silent, just looking at each other. All the air inside me is tangled in my throat. I seriously can’t breathe.

  My heart is thumping so hard and loud he can probably hear it. I mean, he’s STARING at me, and he’s writing me a song!!!!! I might actually die from this. Too much happiness. And adrenaline.

  His eyes stay on mine. “I’ve been overly preoccupied about you lately,” he says softly. “Are you all right?”

  I swallow. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  I have to look away. Like a dork. Cuz I can feel my face turning red from his stare. My heart is pounding wayyy too hard.

  He’s just worried about me. We’re just friends, We’re just friends, We’re just friends. I keep trying to remind myself of that so I don’t burst into confetti and a flippin’ rainbow from his hungry gaze.

  You have to admit though, this moment is totally awesome and magical. The way he is staring at me all hungry and longing-like. Swoon!!! And, come on, he wrote me a song! (And he’s STARING at me!!!!!)

  But there’s something gross that is totally ruining the magic of the moment. At least for me. ‘Cause now that we’re silent, we can hear Renee through my wall. Her room is right next to mine. She keeps giggling. Obviously she’s talking to Jonah. It kind of blows chunks on my moment.

  Luke raises his eyebrows, like: “What’s up?”

  “That’s Renee,” I tell him. “She’s on the phone.”

  “Is she talking to your stalker?—Jonah?”

  ‘Yeah, the psycho suddenly trying to wheedle his way into every cranny of my life,’ I want to tell him, sort of bad. But I don’t. Luke will destroy Jonah. Seriously. He’ll kill him. I never said a word to him about the “gifts” Jonah has been leaving me since the coma. I haven’t told anyone. But Luke is the last person I would tell. Unless I want Jonah dead. (Face it though, the dude is pushing it.)

  “They were together all during lunch,” Luke says. “Getting close.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, kind of feeling like I might barf.

  Luke eyes me, like he’s searching my reaction. “The guy’s okay now, though?—right? He’s staying away from you?” He lifts a brow, “Gia says he’s cool.” Luke breathes out a soft laugh, “But what does she know?—she likes me.”

  I can’t help smiling. Luke is the most adorable guy in our whole school. But he’s really modest about it and he’s not just faking. He has no idea what he does to my heart. Seriously. He knows what he does to other girls’ hearts. But he truly believes we’re ‘just friends.’ (He’s selectively blind.)

  We’re silent for a moment, just looking at each other again. It’s kind of weird. (You know, since Luke used to give me wedgies and nooggies. But look deep into my eyes?—no. Never. He never used to do this. Ever.)

  Finally, Luke breaks the silence, though his eyes stay on me still sort of hungry-like. His voice is all soft and full of reverie, “When, you were in that coma—I had nightmares. The whole time you were in it,” he says softly.

  He ducks his head, his dark hair masking his gorgeous brown eyes. “I don’t know if you get this—but it was kind of cool for me when Ally left, because then you turned to me. And I liked that. You turning to me again. Being my best friend again. But then you went into that coma and it was like—‘No way, I just got her back, I can’t lose her. I’ll die if I lose her.’”

  His eyes peek up at me, almost shy. “I went to the hospital every day.”

  “I know. My mom told me.”

  “I’d go there and just watch you…. I was afraid you were going to die.” He stares into my eyes, then down at his hands. “I kept thinking, if she dies—I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  He looks up at me. “Jazz,” he pauses, “you’re my best friend.”

  A jet of warmth shoots through me. I feel all tingling and funny. I mean, it’s not like he said, ‘I love you’ or anything. Still, my heart is pounding all wild and doing acrobats.

  “You’re my best-friend, too,” I whisper.

  His eyes stay on me still all heated, then he looks away, running a hand over his face. “I brought you this,” he says, pulling out Bananas, the stuffed monkey I won for him at the carnival last year.

  “Bananas!” I hold the little monkey in my arms and squeeze him tight.

  Luke says softly, “He’s just a loner, though. Until you feel better.”

  I burrow my face into his soft fur. “Thanks.”

  I’d given Bananas to Luke as a birthday present last year, as when we were eight he tried for hours to win a monkey just like it.

  On his birthday his eyes lit up when I gave it to him. He’d laughed, “I’d been trying to win the monkey for you.” He put an arm around me (one of the few times he ever did). “Thanks, bro! He’ll be our band’s mascot.”

  Then Luke had brought the cute little monkey to every gig his band played after that, tying him to Matt’s drums. Every single gig.

  For some reason that had touched me. Probably way more than it should.

  Hugging Bananas, I look up and I’m suddenly flooded with warmth. ‘Cause Luke is watching me. The way he’s gazing, it’s as though he’s been doing it a long time. My heart flutters.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he says, clearing his throat. “I should probably go.”

  “Oh.”

  I walk him to the window, wanting him to stay. Forever.

  But, well, he probably has his girlfriend to trot off to.

  Sob.

  When he gets to the window he turns to me, like he has something important to say. For a moment our eyes meet. I melt under his gaze. His eyes glisten. They seem to tell me they love me. My heart is beating so fast.

  I hold my breath as he draws his face near mine. My whole body ignites. I can hear him breathing, feel the warmth of his Luke-breath on my cheek and lips. I’m on fire, everything inside me exploding. So filled with want. And wonder. My heart flying, realizing my dreams are actually about to come true. I’m going to feel Luke’s mouth—finally. But no. He gives a slight groan, backing away. “Things have definitely changed between us,” he says in a husky voice. “I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”

  I’m breathless.

  All I can do is stare at him, my heart pounding like it’s going to jump out of my chest. I get what he’s saying (I think)—I mean, he’s never come close to kissing me before—nothing even slightly like that. However, I almost died from disappointment that he didn’t cave. Do it. Crash his luscious Luke lips on mine—send me to heaven. The thought that he almost did has me panting. And the world spinning. And me seeing stars.

  Yet what comes out of my mouth is, “I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” he gives a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t explain what’s going on in my confused head, though,” he gives me another sad smile “—‘cause it’s pretty confusing.”

  He touches my hair. “Goodnight, Jazz.”

  Then he’s gone, out my window and probably off to Gia’s. To kiss her blind.

  Sigh.

  CHAPTER 7

  Only like, a moment after Luke leaves, there is a knock at my bedroom door. (So I know it’s not Renee—you know, cuz the person knocked.)

  It’s Ally!!!!!

  ALLY!!!!

  I hug her tight, tight, tight. It’s only been a week since I saw her last, but still—Ally! Yay!!!

  She makes my heart feel all warm and happy.

  Ally brought Destiny with her though, so sad-face. (Not that I don’t love Destiny, but Ally is my best friend and now is living in another state—three hours away—so I’d like to have her all to myself.) But I’m sure Ally brought Destiny along as a nice surprise for me. (Ally doesn’t realize Destiny is annoying.) (Ally is oblivious to all things mean.)

  “I heard you went back to school today,” Ally says, hugging me again, like she’s wor
ried about me. She kept driving up to see me when I was, you know, comatose. Now I think she’s like Luke, a little worried I’m just going to up and go coma-girl again. Everyone keeps acting that way. (It’s kind of nice actually.)

  “I brought you cookies to celebrate,” Ally says. “But they’re in your kitchen—I didn’t want to bring them upstairs in case Renee caught me on the way.”

  Renee eats all of Ally’s baking treats. (Ally is a baker, big time.) (Renee is a hog.) (Big time.)

  “I hid them in the cupboard with the plates,” Ally says. She eyes me worriedly. “Is Jonah still freaking you out?”

  I nod, then glare at Destiny. Since, you know, she gave Jonah permission to totally invade my life. (I didn’t want to be locker-partners with Destiny in the first place—now you can see why. The girl is not right in the head…. Maaaan, she makes me miss Ally.)

  I grit my teeth, “Destiny let him be my locker partner.”

  Ally gasps. “No way!”

  Destiny puts her hands on her hips. Then she goes on like she can defend herself—which she totally can’t. The truth simply is, Jonah is hot. And Destiny is a sucker for a hot guy. Any hot guy. Even a psycho stalker one. As has now been proven.

  “What?!” Destiny says, looking all defensive. “He’s CUTE. And he obviously likes Jazz. And for once she doesn’t have a boyfriend hanging on her. So why not give Dreamy Jonah a chance?”

  “Because he’s Stalker Jonah,” I growl.

  “Wait! Shh,” Ally hushes us in the middle of our arguing, waving her hands around crazily for us to be quiet.

  (?????)

  She tilts her head, then gasps.

  She breathes out all anxious-like, “Griffin’s here.”

  Before I can register what she’s saying, she dashes for my closet. And hides!!!

  I blurt out in astonishment, “What?!”