The Incomparable Edie Wells

“And by doing this, you prove that x is equal to y...”

Sometimes I wonder how my geometry teacher can manage to lecture us for a solid two hours about the same topic. I can feel my eyelids start to slide shut as Mr. Nicholas drones on in a disturbingly peaceful monotone, which doesn't help my case. This was sixth period, and instead of being free like Parker and Maggie, I was sitting her in math class pretending to pay attention, when all I really want is to fall asleep.

My gaze shifts to my right. Well, okay, that's not the only thing.

Levi isn't actually paying attention to the lecture, either. He's texting just below the edge of his desk, particularly oblivious to the fact that we aren't supposed to have them on, period, much less use them in the middle of the period. It bugs me a little, since I know he's not going to get caught because he's popular. I would, if I were stupid enough to try it. I'm not.

I let a quiet sigh escape my lips as I turn back to the teacher, who looks annoyed at best.

“Fine,” he spits, his eyes narrowing in my direction. I slide down a little in my seat. “Since you obviously can't concentrate, I'll let you work with a partner. You have the rest of the period to do both page thirty-eight and page thirty-nine. Due Monday.”

I pound my fist on the desk. Just my luck. Nicole, the only person in this class I even talk to, is absent, so I'm stuck without a partner. And it sucks to have to explain awkwardly to the teacher that no one in this class would be caught dead with someone so low on the List. It just doesn't happen.

I let out a noise in frustration.

“Did - Did you just growl?” a confused voice asks next to me.

My heart nearly stops. I turn to Levi, who's looking at me expectantly with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hair is spiked up and his brown eyes sparkle in amusement. He shocks me so much that it takes me a few seconds to figure out that he's, well, laughing at me.

I duck my head down, hoping that my ringlets will put themselves to good use and actually hide my burning cheeks. “Maybe. Y'know, school spirit, and all that.”

How our school's mascot ended up being a bulldog, I'll never know.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nice. You know, we could use some more of that at the games,” he smiles, and I can almost hear my heart rate triple in speed.

I laugh nervously. “Yeah. Maybe then we'll actually win one.” I have an incredible urge to find duct tape and put it over my mouth, in a last-ditch effort to keep my mouth from making any more stupid words. Of course, it's common knowledge that our football team, well, sucks, but that's not something you tell the captain.

But instead of lunging at me in an angry rage, demanding I take it back, Levi just laughs. I never noticed how his nose wrinkles when he laughs. I mentally slap myself to keep from drooling. “True that.”

He glances at Mr. Nicholas, who's sending a suspicious glance in our direction. Have I mentioned before that my geometry teacher, um, hates me? I don't have solid proof of this, but I get this... feeling. That, and the fact that Rhett had him for, like, three years.

Yeah, that probably has something to do with it.

“So, Edie,” he murmurs lowly, and my heart skips a beat because hello, he actually knows my name, “Have you gone to any of the games so far?” He flashes me a smile, and his eyes glitter with something like curiosity. Interest.

For a second I don't breathe. I'm still trying to accept the fact that Levi Smith actually knows who I am, not to mention that he sounds like he wants to know if I've watched him play before. Breathe, Edie, breathe. “Uh, nope,” I manage to say, though the wavering in my voice would be audible to a deaf person. “Haven't gotten a chance yet. Maybe tonight,” I add quickly, remembering that it had been announced earlier in the day. We're going up against out biggest rival – and it's our smallest chance of winning the entire season. By far.

He smiles again. “Cool. Maybe I'll look for afterward.”

Um, okay. Either Levi is suddenly taking an interest in me, or I'm going crazy. I start to think it's the second one. I mean, why else would I be completely awake in geometry class? Never, that's when. So I chalk it up to dreaming. But then I figure I might as well play along with it, you know? So smile back, a little flirtatiously – thanks to being around Anna's catlike grin so often – and say a very anticlimactic “Sure.”

What? I'm not the best at, well, speaking.

I'm thankful that he still finds the situation amusing, because I'm about to explode from blushing too much.

“Miss Wells, Mr. Smith. Interesting pair. I trust you'll have both pages done when I check next class?” Mr. Nicholas suddenly says from over my shoulder, in a tone that clearly isn't meant to be so light-hearted as his words.

I swallow hard and look up at him. I nod numbly, hoping that if I don't talk to him, he'll go away. After all, this is still a dream, and you don't have to talk to the bad people in dreams, right?

His mouth sets, as if he's expecting me to respond. When I don't, he strides to the front of the classroom to start lecturing another boy who has mysteriously fallen asleep in the middle of sixth period.

I let out a sigh of relief. A few more minutes and Mr. Nicholas would turn into a gigantic, fire-breathing dragon. And then Levi would save me, and live happily ever after.

Okay, even my dreams don't end like that.

Before I know what's going on, the bell rings and ninety percent of the class leaps out of their seats, rushing toward the door like everyone does last period on a Friday. I take a deep breath and begin to pack my things together, carefully adjusting my pleated skirt and blouse. I'm aware of two eyes watching my every move, and I silently hope to God they're not Mr. Nicholas'. Because that would just be creepy.

I turn around to see Levi, watching me with his backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and a curious expression on his face, like I'm some kind of puzzle he can't solve. Not yet.

“I wasn't joking about the game,” he finally says, ducking his head towards his chest almost shyly. I have the urge to rub my eyes to check if I'm actually seeing this. Because this doesn't happen. Ever. “You should come. You're on the newspaper, right? Why don't you write an article about it or something?”

Instead of pointing out that all I do is layout stuff, and no actual writing until someone gets sick and can't find an alternate, I just give him a friendly smile. “That actually sounds pretty cool. Maybe I'll check it out.” I shrug, trying to be nonchalant, even though my heart is beating faster than that one time I ran a mile in seven minutes. “But, hey, if I don't, good luck tonight.”

He nods. “Thanks. See you later then.”

And then I follow him out of the classroom, dazed. Did that really just happen?

-[-]-

I go through the motions of any normal afternoon: walking home in the hundred-degree weather, sweating like no tomorrow, while simultaneously texting Maggie the newest developments of geometry class. She freaks out, demanding that we have to go, and that she'll pick Parker and me up at seven. I sigh and agree, mostly because I don't have anything to do tonight, but partly because... well, I'm curious if Levi really meant what he says.

Does Levi Smith really want me at his game?

As soon as I'm home, two speeding blurs of motion attach to my bare legs, screaming kid-like names at each other.

I roll my eyes as I untangle Casey and Grace from my legs. “Guys, really? What's the problem now?”

I cross my arms over my chest as I stare at the two of them, waiting for an answer from them. Grace - the older of the two of my half-siblings and the most ironically named, since she's one of the clumsiest people I've met - looks a lot like Riley, in that the has the same unruly platinum blonde hair. Freckles dot her pale white skin and her big blue eyes glitter with excitement behind her choppy bangs. Typical first-grader, missing teeth, scabby knees, and all.

Casey, who's a year younger and in kindergarten, is surprisingly the quieter of the two. He looks a lot like my dad, with cropped brown hair and wide gray eyes that are constantly observing the world around him. He likes art and reading more than actual physical playing, but if Grace provokes him, he'll do just about anything.

“He took my pony!” Grace wails, pointing an accusing finger at her brother.

“No I didn't!” he protests, holding up his hands in an I'm-innocent motion. One of which is holding Grace's pony figurine.

I give him a blank look. “Case, you have it in your hand.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it!”

I roll my eyes. “I really don't get paid enough for this,” I mutter under my breath, plucking the toy from Casey's hand and giving it back to Grace, who squeals in delight and runs away before Casey can catch her. I ruffle the hair on his head as he runs after her, their laughter pealing through the house.

I trudge into my room and flop on the bed, staring at the ceiling blankly for a few minutes.

My eyes snap open.

What am I going to wear?