Left-Handed

“Okay, so last night I went to Drew’s, but when I got there I was whisked away by a magical portal that lead me to a forest of fairies. All the poor fairies would talk about was this evil dragon that kept torching their flower gardens. Naturally I was their only choice as a hero, so they outfitted me with armor and a sword and set me off to sure doom.” I glanced at Russ to see him holding in laughter. “Now this dragon was absolutely beastly and the first thing it did was breathe fire at my sword, burning my hand and making the steel too hot to hold. I thought I was a sure goner. But then my fairy guardian dropped a spear next to me and, left-handed and all, I stuck the spike up through its jugular and out the top of its scaly head!”

“Thom, man, are you sure you don’t partake in any drug-like activities?” he asked, giggling. “No, but how did you really burn your hand?”

“Okay, okay,” I admitted, “I spilled a cup of tea on it.”
“That’s it? Not so glorious now, eh?”
“No,” I agreed.

“I thought Drew was supposed to hang out with Emma last night?”
“He did until she had to leave. Why?”

He shrugged. “Between you and me, I kinda wish they’d break up.”
“Me too.” Looking around at the rest of my English class I saw that we weren’t the only ones not working and started to pack up my things. “Russ, who asked who out?” Somehow this little piece of information had managed to elude me. I needed to know.

“I think it was Emma asked Drew out.” If that was true, then maybe if I followed my dad’s advice and talked to Drew, he would break up with her. Maybe he didn’t want to be with her anymore but just needed an extra push to go through with it.

After Mr. Sharon handed out the project information packets he began to read from the paper. “It is a generally accepted premise that a yellow light at a traffic intersection should last long enough that a car traveling at the posted speed can either apply the brakes and comfortably and safely decelerate to a stop prior to reaching the front of the intersection, or maintain the same speed and pass at least half-way through the intersection before the yellow light turns red.

“If a driver traveling at the posted speed cannot do either of the two options, then the traffic signal, specifically the time duration of the yellow light, is considered unsafe.
“Your mission is to analyze a minimum of six intersections around Fords to evaluate the safety of the traffic signals. Furthermore, you will study the effect of such variables as reaction time, acceleration, car speed, road conditions (which subsequently effect accelerations), and visibility factors for at least one Fords intersection.

“Your lab reports are due the Friday after Halloween, November 5. None will be accepted late, so make sure they’re in on time.” Mr. Sharon nodded at the end of his monologue and left the floor.

“Hey, when do you want to start ours?”
“Uh, just call me later or something, Finn. We can come up with a plan then.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, averting his eyes marginally. Suddenly he brightened visibly. “Bright Eyes is supposed to come around here on their next tour.”

I chuckled. “You gonna go?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he said enthusiastically as the bell rang and we turned opposite ways from the entrance. “You should too!” he yelled. I smiled inwardly at his invitation. It wasn’t very often that one was asked to do something by Finn Devon.

Approximately two minutes and twenty-nine seconds later (that’s approximately bullshit, by the way) I arrived at our lunch spot. This time feeling too lazy to walk the extra three feet to the one under the tree, I plopped down on the slab most in the open.

I didn’t have to wait long for someone to join me; Drew dropped next to me five seconds after I did. “How’s your hand?” he asked lifting it carefully to look before I could give him an answer.

“It’s all right, I guess. Probably be fine by Monday,” I said, not really interested in the healing process as long as my fingers didn’t actually become shrimp and scuttle away from me while I was sleeping.

“Well that’s good. That means I won’t be expecting any lawsuits from you anytime soon. ‘Excuse me, Mr. Pynchon, you will need to be present in court on this date for the damages your tea has cost the prosecution, Mr. Fisher.’,” he remarked, laughing. He stroked my hand twice as if petting a dog and then put it back on the stone where he found it.

“You’d better put it back.” I smiled and turned slightly away, feigning a sudden interest in my shoes. Wondering how much of a girl that must make me I was taken aback yet again when his lips brushed my cheek. And really, if he didn’t stop giving me heart attacks every time he kissed me I was sure to die very young. Although I’d probably go in euphoria, which would be okay.

With his face tinged a bit pink and mine surely reddening and the rest of our lunch party on its way, Drew moved to an adjacent seat while nearly every alarm bell I possessed went off. Talk to him! Hide from Emma! I have to go pee! Talk to him!But later for that, obviously the only proper thing to do now would be to put on an innocent face and act natural. Naturally innocent.

Luckily there wasn’t any time for awkwardness before Mel started screaming and jumping up and down. “What is it, a spider?” Russ joked from behind her, maneuvering his food tray away from the path of her flailing arms.

“No, dimwit. I got the jacket!” she revealed in a mix between crossness and excitement.

The jacket was made from jean material and boasted a large patch on the back bearing the Minor Threat logo, which Mel was happy to display for us by twirling around multiple times, I thought perhaps a bit excessively.

Russ, the only one with a lunch this particular day, had just crammed the last French fry into his mouth when Drew appeared to realize something that we both should have immediately. “Hey, where’s Emma?”

“I think she’s sick or something because she wasn’t in study hall today, which means I’ll have to get all excited about my jacket again next time I see her,” Mel complained.

“Oh don’t worry; I’m sure you can muster up some more of that Minor Threat cheer. I don’t know ‘bout you guys but I’ve noticed that it doesn’t seem to ever run out,” Russ winked.

“Anyone up for a Minor Threat celebration? It’s Friday, I’ve got nothing to do. We need to plan for Halloween next week...”

Drew was immediately shut down by the simultaneous excuse from Mel and me. “Work.”

“Russ?” Drew whimpered, his expression sad and needy.

He shrugged apologetically. “Gotta help the old man tonight. Sorry, dude.”

***

“I’m sorry, ma’am, your coupon is expired,” I said, handing it back after I’d seen that the date printed on the back was 4/17/07.

The lady who had tried to use it ripped it out of my good hand and scrutinized it closely. Instead of letting me get on with the transaction she defiantly began to hassle me. “You switched it back there, didn’t you? I know your store gimmicks,” she claimed, her loose chin wobbling. “I won’t be fooled! Especially by a clerk who doesn’t dress properly for the job!” she went on.

“Ma’am,” I started, my ears reddening, “I don’t cheat people out of money. I follow the dress code, by the way. And I think you’re rude. Now are you going to pay or should I cancel the sale?” I put on an extremely fake smile, hoping she wouldn’t get too riled up or go berserk.

I could see that she was gritting her teeth as she pulled out a number of bills from a wallet that mirrored her girth. The lady then slammed them onto the counter, grabbed the bags I’d previously filled with her purchases and stormed out of the store. I was glad to see her go.

The next and last customer in line was not much more pleasant, although she didn’t resort to verbal insults. She just wrinkled her sixteen year old nose in distaste as she pushed a folded t-shirt onto the counter. The sale went much more smoothly and she left without so much as another wrinkled nose.
Seconds later, as she was prone to do, Mel slipped in next to me smirking. “I told you it was the lip ring,” she whispered, nudging me. “Did Whale Lady attack you?” she asked, returning to normal volume.

I bowed my head in acknowledgement. “Bitch.”
“Maybe you should just take it out before you come to work?”
“Nah, that’s too much work.”

Mel stroked her chin as if she had a beard and looked around the store pensively. In no time at all she clasped her hands together, suddenly thrilled. “Oh my God! I’ve got it! Next shift we have you have to take one of those shirts over there,” she said, pointing across the store to a pile of shirts for males. “Make sure it’s very tight-fitting. And then act flamboyant!”

I frowned. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Mel grinned. “Oh come on, silly, it’s obvious! Women love gay men; they feel connected to them. Plus that way you won’t get shit for your lip ring; you’ll be like automatically excused for your odd fashion sense.”

I looked at her incredulously. “But that sounds shitty.”

“No, I’m being serious. Next time you’re being given the eye, they’ll stop and think ‘Hey, this kid’s gay. No need for the eye.’ and then they’ll move on happily and you’ll be happy too,” she said smugly.

“Well I suppose it might be worth a try. It’ll be fun for you at least,” I said grudgingly. If any part of her plan went wrong I’d have her head for sure.

Just then, Shirley, our rather disagreeable co-worker, walked in to start her shift. She was eighteen, a full number above us and an adult. Around Shirley, she worked hard to make you know that you were inferior, which I suppose made her the opposite of Shirley Temple. Although, she did sport blonde hair, just not the actress’ staple set of curls.

“Any unsatisfied customers on your watch this eve, Melon? Thomas?”

Mel snorted, apparently more amused at the thought of being turned into a fruit than insulted by it. “Maybe things like that happen while you’re in charge, Sherbet, but I assure you that we,” she gestured to both herself and me, “are more than capable of handling things,” she finished airily.

The newly christened Sherbet made what sounded oddly like a choking noise and hurried away mildly undignified. As soon as she’d turned her back I gave Mel a high-five and congratulated her on her ingenious thinking.

“You really couldn’t have pulled that off better, Mel,” I said, pleased that Shirley most likely wouldn’t bother us for the rest of the night.

“Just a quick thinker is all. And you know, she couldn’t think of anything for your name,” she remarked, eyes narrowing slightly. “Surely there is one. Great, this’ll keep me up all night, I suspect...” she trailed off.

***

Lying awake in bed with my fan droning in the corner, as it was oddly hot for a night at the end of October, I contemplated my recent lack of progress in the area that I called simply, Drew. He’d managed a whole two sneak attacks in less than 48 hours and still I’d failed at saying something.

On the other hand, the increased rate of said encounters, lack of drunkenness, and even public daring seemed to indicate that Drew was indeed serious about whatever it was we were doing. The whatever did point to cheating on Emma, though, which didn’t seem to be necessary for my health; I was having a hard time convincing myself of innocence on that one.

The trick to bringing it up with Drew without him going ballistic, which was an unfortunate side effect of being friends with him sometimes, eluded me. Obviously it had to be before he started molesting my lips, otherwise it would do no good. Maybe I could startle him into actually going out with me for real. Maybe if I just commanded him he’d do it...sleep...