Lucas got to school early, and waited outside the gates for Kennedy to show up. He wanted to apologize for being so rude to her when they were at Starbucks. He leaned back on the stone wall with the earphones to his iPod stuck in his ears and listened to his new single. He bopped his head to the beat, and waited and watched. Though it was a private school, the girls all seemed to have their own style. Some wore their skirts short, others long. Some wore high-heels, while others wore flats. And they all seemed to carry designer purses, totes, or duffels. As Lucas watched the students file into the schoolyard, it occurred to him that he might not recognize his target. She and her sister looked so much alike, he was afraid that he would approach the wrong one. And no way was he giving an undue apology to the snobby twin.
I’ll wait to see her in class. At least with her sitting across from me in chemistry, I’m sure not to make a case of mistaken identity, Lucas thought and abandoned his post by the gate.
Lucas’ third and fourth periods dragged by. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he was entering chemistry class. He had rehearsed his speech in his first two classes, but the moment he sat at the lab bench, across from her, the words left his mind.
“Hi, uh, I’m Lucas Williams, but I never got your name,” he said to Kennedy.
She was reading over the hypothesis, and didn’t even hear—or see—him sit down. Kennedy looked up, and a smile sprang to her face. “Excuse me?”
“I asked you your name?”
“Oh, it’s Kennedy Mercier.”
“Mer-see-ay?” he said, pronouncing it phonetically. “That’s an odd last name.”
“It’s Creole. My dad’s family is from New Orleans,” she explained.
“Oh,” he said, staring into her warm brown eyes.
“Kennedy, I hope you have the hypothesis today,” Sid said, interrupting their getting-to-know-you session.
“Yep, got it right here,” she said, closing the folder, and handing it to her overzealous classmate.
“Hiii, Lucasss,” Reese sang as she joined the group.
“Yeah, hey. What up?”
“Nothing yet.” She winked her eye. “You wanna hang out after school?” she asked, and winked again.
“You got something in your eye?” he asked, ignoring her proposition.
“No, I don’t have anything in my eye. Why?”
“’Cause you keep blinking.”
Kennedy put her hand to her mouth, and giggled. She was used to seeing Reese work her magic on the cute boys in school, but she had never seen anyone shoot her down like Lucas had just done.
“Whatever!” Reese said, and flipped open her textbook.
Class started before Lucas could throw another insult Reese’s way. With the teacher talking, he didn’t want to interrupt class, but he also didn’t want Kennedy to leave without apologizing to her. He flipped open his spiral, scribbled a note, tore the paper off the silver coil, folded it up and handed it to Kennedy.
Kennedy unfolded the paper, which said, “I’m sorry about Starbucks.” She read it, but had no idea what it meant. She looked at Lucas and hunched her shoulders.
He scribbled another note, and handed it to her. “Meet me after school by the front gates.”
Kennedy mouthed, “Okay.”
Their little interchange didn’t go unnoticed. Reese and Sid were ogling them, but they were not the only people in class watching; so were Reagan and her crew. They were paying more attention to Lucas and Kennedy than to the teacher.
“So what do you think the note said?” Madison whispered to Reagan.
“He probably wants to borrow her notes. I bet he’s not too bright,” Reagan responded.
“No. That’s not it. He has to be smart in order to get into Walburton, scholarship or no scholarship.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He’s probably asking her about me. Why would he want Kennedy when I’m a much better choice? Not that I’d ever have three words to say to his poor ass, except, ‘Beat it, LOSER!’” Reagan said narcissistically, raising her voice slightly.
“Excuse me, Ms. Mercier, but if you have something more important to say, then I’ll be more than happy to let you teach class today,” Mrs. Vance said, catching Reagan in the act.
Reagan felt her face blush from embarrassment, and looked down at her textbook, as if she hadn’t uttered a word.
“Don’t get quiet on us now. A few minutes ago, you had plenty to say,” the teacher said, further embarrassing Reagan. “Do you or do you not want to take over my job?”
“No,” Reagan said, underneath her breath.
“Speak up, child!”
Kennedy wanted to bust out laughing. For once, the joke was on her sister, and she was glad. Reagan always seemed to get away with her snide remarks, but not this time. Kennedy looked over at Reagan, who had her head buried so far down her chest that it looked as if she didn’t have a neck.
“No, I do not want to run the class,” Reagan said, picking her head off her chest.
“I thought not. Now if you’ll apologize for interrupting the class, we can get back to business.”
“But I wasn’t the only one talking!” Reagan said, nearly shouting. She hated being called out like that, and if she had to go down, she wasn’t going alone.
Madison shot her a killer look.
Fed up with this unnecessary exchange, Mrs. Vance now had a nasty scowl painted on her face. “That may or may not be true. The truth of the matter is you are the one that I saw and heard, so it will be you that apologizes! Is that clear?”
“I’m sorry,” Reagan said, so low that the words were barely audible.
“We can’t hear you. Since you are having such a hard time projecting, I want you to come to the front of the class and apologize.”
All eyes were on Reagan as she reluctantly made her way to the head of the class.
Standing front and center, she looked out at her classmates. Reagan glanced at her sister who had a smirk plastered across her face; she was no doubt enjoying the PDH (Public Display of Humiliation). And that new boy Lucas was staring at her, obviously waiting for her to say something. Next Reagan cast her eyes on Madison who looked pissed, with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Ms. Mercier, we are all waiting,” Mrs. Vance said rather impatiently.
“I’m sorry for disturbing the class!” Reagan yelled, loud and clear, making sure that she was heard. She spoke so loud that she was sure the class next door also heard.
“Very well; you can take your seat now,” Mrs. Vance said, satisfied with the apology.
Feeling like a loser, Reagan slunk back to her seat with her ego totally shattered.
The class resumed, and before long the bell rang. Lucas and Kennedy went their separate ways to their different classes. When school let out, Lucas resumed his post by the stone wall, outside of the gates, and waited for Kennedy to show up. He looked up and down the street, and noticed a beautiful silverish-blue Mercedes Maybach waiting in front of the school. Damn, that car is BAD! I wonder who’s rolling in THAT? One day I’m gonna have a whip like that, Lucas thought as he admired the luxury ride.
Kennedy could see Lucas through the wrought-iron gates, and her heart began to pound faster. She didn’t know why he wanted to see her after school, and the thought of it was making her nervous.
“Hey, Lucas.” She smiled as she approached, trying to hide her nervousness.
He smiled back. “Hey, Kennedy. Uh…you wanna get something to drink?”
“Sure. There’s this great old-fashioned deli around the corner. They have the best egg-creams.”
“That sounds good.”
“It’s this way,” she said, and started walking away from the school, with Lucas by her side.
They walked down the block, and around the corner. The moment they stepped inside the deli, it was like stepping back in time. There was an antique glass pastry case in the front, displaying a variety of cannoli, cookies, brownies, and other delicious sweets. The booths were wooden, as were the tables and chairs. All the tables were topped with red-and-white, plaid cotton cloths, making the place look like a grandmother’s cozy kitchen. There was even a wooden bar with an old-fashioned soda fountain.
“Sit anywhere you like,” said the cashier standing behind the register near the door.
“Come on, let’s sit at the bar. It’s fun watching them make milkshakes and egg-creams,” Kennedy said.
“Okay.”
They walked over to the bar, and took seats on the chrome stools with the red leather seats.
“What can I get ya?” asked the guy behind the bar. He was wearing a red-and-white striped shirt and white, chef’s-type hat.
“What are you going to have?” Lucas asked Kennedy.
“Hmm.” She looked at the menu that was printed on the wall in front of her. “Let’s see. I think I’m going to have a chocolate milkshake.”
“I’ll have the same,” Lucas told the waiter. “I thought you would order the egg-cream, since you said they are so good here,” he said to her once the waiter was gone.
“I was, but I’m more in the mood for a thick shake instead. Soo…Lucas, what was that note about?”
Being in this throw-back deli with Kennedy made him forget all about the note, and why he had asked to see her after school. “Oh, the note. I wanted to apologize for how rude I was to you at Starbucks.”
Kennedy had been so surprised to see him that day, that she hadn’t even noticed that he was being rude. “I didn’t think you were acting rude. You rushed out of the place so fast, that I thought you really had to get home.”
“The reason I left in a hurry was because I thought that you were talking about me in the courtyard that day. But it wasn’t you; it was your sister,” he explained.
“Oh, I see. Don’t worry about it. Apology accepted.”
“Speaking of your sister, Mrs. Vance really put her on blast today.”
“Yeah, she finally got caught talking out of turn. Hey, you can consider her humiliation today as payback for her and her friends ragging on you,” Kennedy said.
“Now that’s an excellent thought!” He smiled, exposing his deep dimples.
As they were enjoying a laugh at Reagan’s expense, the waiter brought over one gigantic milkshake topped high with a mound of whipped-cream and two cherries on top, in a beautifully etched glass with two extra-long straws sticking out of each side. “Since you two ordered the same thing, I thought I’d put it in one of our sharing glasses, like we used to do years ago. Enjoy,” he said, and walked away.
Kennedy and Lucas looked at each other, and then at the humongous shake. “Wow!” they said in unison, and then began sipping out of their respective straws.
Lucas looked over at Kennedy, and couldn’t help but think how pretty she was. Not only was she Phine with a “Ph,” she was also cool. Most chicks he knew wouldn’t be caught dead in an old-fashioned deli, sharing a milkshake. No way! Girls these days were more interested in sucking down a Martini, trying to be grown. Kennedy obviously had morals, and he was digging that. Coming to Walburton is turning out to be better than I thought.
“So you think I can call you sometime?” he asked, coming up for air.
Kennedy nearly choked. She hadn’t expected him to ask for her number so soon. “Sure!” She scribbled down her number on a napkin and gave it to him.
Lucas stuck the napkin in his pocket, and continued with the shake. He and Kennedy sat there facing each other, sipping the shake, and staring at each other. They looked like two love-struck kids from the fifties. The only things missing were bobby socks and a letter jacket!