“That's what you get for your International Man of Mystery persona, buddy.” I told him. “Well, I just don't want people all up in my business, is all. I'm not exactly outgoing if you couldn't tell.” Clay conceded, looking at me for a moment as if I were one of those people he didn't want up in his business.
Well too bad Clayton Reed, I was going to be all up in your business. This guy was way too closed off and more than a little sad. I didn't think anyone could survive on such a lack of personal interaction. Maybe I was being pushy, but something told me that there was a part of Clay that needed this. Someone taking the time to know him, and to give a shit.
After a few more minutes of less awkward silence, Clay turned toward his Beamer. “Well, I'd better head home. Nice meeting you, Maggie.” He pulled open his door and stood there for a moment, as if trying to decide whether he really wanted to leave or not.
I moved away from his car, pulling my book bag onto my shoulder. I gave him a small wave. “Sure. It was nice meeting you too. Maybe I'll see you around.” I said noncommittally, though I knew I'd be hunting him down in the hallways first thing on Monday morning. Clay smirked at me again, as if he could read my thoughts. “I'm sure you will.” He started the engine and pulled out of his parking space. He gave a small salute and headed out of the parking lot. I stood there dumbly mute watching him go. I really hoped he didn't look in his rear view mirror and see me staring after him like that, but I just couldn't make myself move. Not until he was long gone.
“Wait! You actually spoke to him? Why did it take you this long to tell me? You should have said something immediately! This is major! What's he like?” Rachel shot off her questions at a rapid fire pace as we sat in my kitchen Saturday afternoon. We had just gotten back from seeing a really horrible romantic comedy, and we were trying to figure out what to do with the rest of our day. I had casually mentioned my conversation with Clay and she had jumped all over it.
I went to the refrigerator and got out a soda, tossing Rachel a bottle of water. Which, she missed and it hit the tile floor with a loud thud. “Nice catch DiMaggio.” I said sarcastically. Rachel flipped me her middle finger and leaned down to pick up the bottle. Once upright, she pushed it onto the counter and gave me the look that let me know I had a lot of explaining to do. “Do not evade, Maggie May Young! Answer my questions! I need to know everything about your exchange with Mr. Clayton Reed.”
I perched up on the stool beside my friend and slowly popped open my soda can. Then I took my time taking a long drink before setting it down on the counter. Rachel was ready to pop. “C'mon! Stop stalling! Tell me about him!”
It was at that moment that my mother decided to make an appearance. “Tell you about who?” She asked breezily as she took a glass from the cabinet. My face flamed red. I absolutely DID NOT want to discuss Clayton Reed in front of my mom. As much as I loved my parents, there were limits to what I wanted them to know. I stopped talking to my parents about my crushes around the time I started shaving my legs. It's not as though they would be weird or overly protective or anything, it was just too embarrassing.
“Claay-ton Reee-eed.” Rachel told her in a sing song voice. I shot her a dark look and she stuck her tongue out at me, whispering, “That's what you get.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. My mom came over with a glass of some gross mixture of herbs that she swore kept her healthy. “Clayton Reed? Who is that?” My mom asked, sitting on the stool on the other side of me. Great, she was preparing for a full on gossip fest. This would take awhile. I wanted to throttle Rachel.
“Nobody.” I evaded, drinking the last of my soda and getting up to throw it in the recycling bin. “Nobody my butt! He's the new hot guy at school is who.” Rachel eagerly volunteered, giving my mom a dramatic raise of her eyebrows. “Oh! Do tell Maggie May! I want to hear all about him!” My mom was enthused and really getting into the girl talk.
“Yes, do tell, Mags.” Rachel agreed, grinning at me. I turned my back on them as I rummaged through the pantry trying to find something to snack on. I wasn't really hungry, I just didn't want to look at them. No sense in getting ragged about the bright pink blush I could feel on my face. “Nothing really to tell. I spoke with him yesterday before leaving school. He's pretty funny, though he didn't have a whole lot to say.” I said, pulling out a package of Oreos and cramming one in my mouth. Yeah, it was my age old defense mechanism. Eating, so I didn't have to talk. Amazing that I wasn't 200 pounds by now.
“That's it? Come on, Maggie, what did you talk about? What does he look like?” My mom asked. “Oh he is really good looking, Mrs. Young. He has dark hair and dark eyes. He's pretty tall and has these awesome broad shoulders and cute as hell freckles on his nose and cheeks.” I was a little surprised at how much Rachel had noticed about Clayton. Considering he wasn't Daniel Lowe, I didn't think she'd pay him any attention.
“He sounds dreamy.” My mom said. I choked on my cookie. I cleared my throat. “Dreamy? Really, Mom? Did we enter a time warp and end up in 1950?” I asked her sarcastically. My mom rolled her eyes. Hmm, wonder where I got that particular facial expression from?
“Well, did he ask you out? Is he going to be your boyfriend?” My mom joked, getting up and throwing her arm around my shoulders, squeezing. I squirmed. “Uh, no. I'm not even sure I'm going to be his friend. He's pretty stand- offish.” “Maggie has a boyfriend.” Rachel teased. I threw my balled up napkin at her. “You are not helping here, Rach.” I muttered.
My mom laughed. “I'm just teasing, Maggie. But if this boy ever becomes something, you know we'd want to meet him.” My mom told me seriously. I clenched my teeth. Yeah, I knew that. As much as I would love for Clayton to be something more, I didn't want to go through that mortally humiliating rite of passage, otherwise known as meeting the parents.
“Sure.” I said dismissively. Rachel was trying really hard not to laugh at my discomfort. She would be getting an ear full as soon as my mom decided to leave the kitchen. “Well, you girls enjoy your afternoon. Dad and I are going to the Farmer's Market in Charlottesville. If you go out, don't forget your house key.” I nodded and was relieved when she left.
I whipped around to face Rachel who had already put her hands up in surrender. “Don't say it. You deserved it, stringing me along with the details like that.” She said. I frowned at her. “Using my mother as your weapon was a low blow and you know it.” I retorted. Rachel only grinned, not concerned by my irritation.