Meant to Be

Page 8

Instead he looked at me with a nasty look on his face. “Oh I get it. You’re not into guys,” he said, looking suggestively between Sam and me.
“Go bother…..” my words caught in my throat as another person joined our group. I looked up to see Mark standing beside me, and he was not happy.
He had caught the end of the exchange, and I could feel the anger vibrating off of him.
“Maybe a trip to the Dean’s office will clean up your language,” he said.
“Is that a threat?” the boy asked in a mocking voice. “Maybe the Dean would like to hear how you’ve taken an interest in our new student. Everyone’s talking about how the two of you were ogling each other in class. No, I don’t think you’ll be talking to the Dean anytime soon,” he said in the same mocking voice as he turned and sauntered off.
Mark started to go after him. “Don’t,” I said in a low voice, putting my hand on his arm.
My touch stopped him in his tracks. The connection was as strong as ever. “Everyone’s watching, you have to walk away and act like nothing happened,” I said in a low voice. “Otherwise our secret will be out sooner than we wanted.”
Mark looked at me one last time, glancing at the spot where the softball had struck my head.
“It’s fine. I’ll go to the nurse’s station and get some ice,” I said. “Besides, the nurse and I are already friends.”
Mark reached up his hand, as if to touch the sore spot.
I took a step back. “No you can’t, I said glancing around. “Everyone’s still watching.” Please go to class, I’ll meet you later,” I pleaded, suddenly choking back tears. The pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
Finally, he walked away and I let out a bent up breath. “So much for keeping it a secret,” I said to Sam in a shaky voice.
Sam had remained silent during the whole confrontation, but I could tell she was going to burst if I didn’t fill her in on all the details.
“Come on, I’ll explain on the way to the clinic,” I said, grabbing onto her elbow, for once my emotions behaved.
By the time we reached the clinic, I had given Sam a basic idea of what Mark and I had discussed earlier that morning.
“You again,” said the same elderly nurse from the day before. “What can I do for you today?”
“I got hit in the head by a softball and I think it may have cut my head a little. I was wondering if I could get some ice.”
“Come around the counter and let me check it over.”
I walked around the counter and sat on the padded stool the nurse pulled up for me.
The nurse clucked as she checked over my head.
“You were right, you have a cut and a small bump, where it hit your head,” she said as she placed a wet cold washcloth to the wound.
I winced as the cloth touched my head. The side of my head was definitely tender to the touch.
“I’ll get you some ice. Do you want to stay here for a while?”
“No, I don’t want to miss homeroom two days in a row. Can I take the ice with me?”
“Of course you can.”
Sam and I said our goodbyes and headed out the door.
“Are you sure your head’s okay?”
“Yeah, it only hurts if I touch it. What a jerk that guy was,” I commented.
“Oh, you’ll see many of those around here. Most of the students here were born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and are used to getting whatever they want. Having mommy and daddy bail them out of trouble is the norm. You and Mark will have to be careful. That guy was Matt Farrell, and he’s a number one jerk. He seems to get a high out of messing with people. His dad’s loaded, so he’s used to getting his own way.”
“Keeping our feelings secret seemed so simple this morning,” I muttered as we walked through the classroom door.
The rest of the morning passed without anymore incidents, and even though I heard no more comments, I could still tell that many of the students were speculating about what had happened that morning.
Though I knew I should be concerned about what they were discussing, I was more anxious to see Mark again. Now that I knew who he was, and had spent part of the morning with him, I didn’t like being separated from him at all. Which left me wondering how Sam felt not being with her guy all day? She had filled me in with a few sketchy details in-between classes on how she had been able to find her dream guy. I was able to glean the basics, like the fact that he was our age, but graduated early and was taking college courses. I intended to find out more after school.
The hours seemed to be going in slow motion as I waited for fifth period to arrive. In my head, I was mentally counting down the minutes and was relieved when fourth period ended.
Grabbing my stuff, I hurried off to meet Sam.
We both opted to eat inside, hoping to avoid another scene. We settled on a bench outside of the school library.
“How was fourth period?” Sam asked, as she unwrapped her tuna sandwich.
“It was fine. I was supposed to be reading, but I was too anxious to focus on the book. It’s a good thing I’m a speed reader, or I would fall behind in class,”
Sam didn’t have to ask me why I was anxious, she already knew. It was nice that we shared so many common bonds; it saved us from having to explain every little detail.
I took a big bite out of my own sandwich, just as the person I had been obsessing about all day walked around the corner. I sucked in a quick breath, causing the bite of sandwich to go down the wrong tube.
Coughing out of control, I reached for my bottle of water to try and wash the sandwich down and stop the coughing fit. Mark reached over, patting me on the back which made the situation worse. His touch flustered me; already choking, I could not handle losing the limited air I had in my lungs.
“I don’t think she can breathe with you touching her,” Sam commented, in a dry voice.
Mark looked at me. I confirmed Sam was right by a nod of my head.
“I’m Sam,” she said, holding her hand out, giving me an opportunity to pull myself together.
I was disgusted with myself. So much for acting cool and collected, I thought as I wiped the tears from my eyes.
Mark reached out to shake Sam’s hand. I could tell by the way he raised his eyebrows that he experienced the same connection with Sam as I did.
“I’m Mark, or for you, Mr. Russo for the next few months of school,” Mark said with a smile.
I finally stopped choking like some idiot.
“Better now?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
I could tell that he liked the fact that he had such an impact on me. It wasn’t like I could hide it though; just sitting by him had my heart racing to a tempo I was slowly getting used to.
“Will you meet me at the park after school?” he asked me in a more serious voice.
I felt warmed by his words. He acted like he wanted to be with me every bit as much as I needed to be with him.
“Yeah, I can meet you, but Sam has to come along too. That way it won’t be a lie if I tell my mom I’m going to the park with Sam. You will just happen to be there,” I said with a smile, as I found another loop hole in the need to know category.
“Is that okay with you?” I asked Sam.
“Sure, Shawn wants all of us to get together anyways.”
“Who’s Shawn?” Mark asked, momentarily confused.
“Sam’s boyfriend; I mentioned him briefly to you this morning,” I said subtly, reminding him that they had a lot in common with us.
“That’s right,” Mark said. “Well, I better head off to class,” He reached out to brush back the hair that covered the lump on my head. He frowned when he saw my injury.
“That guy’s lucky I’m an intern. I could have laid him out when I saw him chuck that softball at your head. It was all I could do to control myself. Does it hurt?” He inquired.
“No,” I lied. Truth was it had been throbbing for most of the day.
I could tell that Mark saw right through my lie. He glanced down the hall to make sure we were alone and then bent over to press his lips against the bump.
Once again, my breath caught in my lungs. I was sure I would never breathe again. His lips erased all the pain, and instead warmth spread throughout every vein in my body.
By the time I could breathe again, he was gone.
“Wow! That was intense. I could feel the heat radiating off the two of you.” Sam said, with laughter in her voice.
“Not to change the subject, but I have a question for you. Why did Matt call you fridge earlier?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s a joke all the guys have. When I first moved here, a lot of them asked me out. I of course turned them down, so to cover up their bruised egos, they started calling me frigid, which eventually led to fridge. They’re jerks. Even if I wasn’t taken, I wouldn’t give them the time of day,” Sam said with disgust.
I agreed with her. All these years I had thought going to a private school would be great, but when you were surrounded by a bunch of spoiled people, it leaves a lot to be desired.
The bell rang as Sam and I gathered up our trash and threw it in the receptacle. I knew the next fifty minutes would be tough. Everyone in the class would be watching Mark and me to see if we ogled each other. I’m sure it would make their year if we made a spectacle of ourselves.
Sam and I grabbed the same seats we sat in the day before. I pulled out my notebook and sat ready to take notes. I felt everyone’s eyes boring into me when Mark walked in the room. I kept my eyes firmly on the paper in front of me and thought of him as Mr. Russo.
He started right into the history lesson, and soon the scratching of pencils on paper could be heard throughout the room as all the students took notes on the day’s lesson. He had an engaging voice and everyone was soon listening to him with rapt attention as he lectured about Europe during the turn of the century. If he ever decided to pursue a career in education, he would make an excellent teacher; even the gossip hounds were silent as he grabbed their attention with his warm voice.
He walked up and down the aisles as he lectured, and each time he passed me, my breath would catch and my heart would race. His voice soothed me like none had ever done before. I could have listened to him talk forever. His voice seemed to hold the nourishment my body craved.
Before I knew it, the bell rang. I finally looked up and met his eyes. I could tell the class had been just as tough for him.
He gave me a half smile as I gathered up my belongings. As Sam and I passed him, once again I felt him press something in my hand.
I did not open my hand until I left his classroom, but when I did, I saw another note and a small wrapped chocolate. I smiled. I had mentioned my addiction to chocolate during our morning talk. I placed the chocolate carefully in my bag.
Sam looked at me with interest.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I think I’ll save it. It’s the first thing he’s ever given me,” I said, feeling slightly self conscious.
I opened the note as Sam and I walked down the hall. There were only six words on the paper.
I can’t wait to see you.
My palms grew sweaty. It was hard to believe that he liked me even though it was quite obvious just how ordinary I was. It would be one thing if I was as cute and bubbly as Sam. I felt a slight feeling of panic, wondering if he would change his mind.
The rest of the day passed quickly and I was pleased that I was at least able to concentrate more attentively on my afternoon classes than the day before. I would have hated to try to explain to my mom if my grades took a nosedive.
After the last bell rang, Sam and I both pulled out our cell phones to call our parents. I turned on my phone and saw that I had a voicemail from my mom. Hitting the button to retrieve the voicemail, I listened to the message.
“Hi, honey. I hope you don’t mind. I heard there’s an art seminar this afternoon in Aptos and I wanted to go check it out. I hate to abandon you two nights in a row. I promise we’ll catch up tomorrow night. Call me if you have any problems.”
Well, that worked out perfectly. No need to lie or find an alibi. I was free to meet Mark with no guilt. I felt giddy at my good fortune that we could spend the whole afternoon together.
“They said it was fine,” Sam said as she dialed another number. She stepped away and I discreetly turned away to give her a little privacy.
“Shawn says he will meet us at the park.”
“Great, let’s go,” I said in an impatient voice. I was ready to see Mark again. It had only been two hours, but I felt a small distinct ache from the separation.
We walked swiftly to the park.
Mark was already there sitting on the top of a picnic table under a big shady oak tree. It should be a sin to look as good as he did, I thought as I once again admired his physique.
He stood up as we approached.
“Hey Sam, how’s it going?”
“Oh you know, my best friends dating our teacher’s intern. I’m dating some guy I dreamt about my whole life and oh yeah, I share some kind of mystical connection with my friend and the intern,” Sam quipped in a dry voice.
Mark and I burst out laughing.
Put that way, the whole situation seemed like some crazy story you would read about in the Enquirer. Sam was right, in the last thirty six hours our lives had taken a drastic turn.
A few minutes later, Sam’s whole face lit up as she spotted someone walking toward us from the parking lot. She got up and practically bounced to his side, not bothering to even contain her enthusiasm. Sam gave him what I could only describe as a scorching kiss and then dragged him over to us.
“Krista, Mark, this is Shawn,” Sam said with shining eyes.
I reached out to shake his hand. The now familiar electricity flowed between our hands. I was expecting it, but it was obviously a shock for Shawn.
“Wow,” he said.
“Told you,” Sam said, laughing at his expression.
He was expecting it when he shook Mark’s hand, but it was clear that he was as confused as the rest of us over the bizarre situation.
For the next hour, we sat at the picnic table comparing stories. Shawn, like me, had been adopted at a young age. His adoptive parents split up five years ago, but he was fine about it. He felt his adoptive mom never wanted children and only went along with it to please his adoptive dad. “My adoptive dad was no gem,” was all he said when I tried to ask him about it.
Out of the four of us, Mark was the only one who had been raised by his biological parent. We had no idea why, if we were all tied together in some way, why the rest of us had been abandoned.
Sam then filled Mark in on her past. She appeared to be glossing over a lot of the details, but we saw through them and I reached over to pat her hand. I already knew from small tidbits Sam had given me that her childhood had sucked. Eventually we ran out of steam and our conversation trailed off. We sat in silence for awhile analyzing all the information we lacked.