Kim has had a crush on Jared Lancer for a good solid year, but she's too shy to even look at him. She's doodled "Kimberly Lancer" in all her notebooks. So when Jared starts paying attention to her--in fact, a lot of attention--how is she supposed to react? Chapter three now up!
This is actually going to have a couple other chapters, rather than being a oneshot, so look out for updates fairly soon.
1. As If He Would Ever Look My Way
Rating 5/5 Word Count 637 Review this Chapter
Mrs. Kim Lancer.
I quickly scratched each name out after I wrote them, because, I mean, he did sit right next to me. Not that I would ever get up the nerve to talk to Jared Lancer. He was out of my league. Plus, he was in the La Push gang—Sam Uley and friends. People loved them.
One by one, certain boys had these major growth spurts, became total musclemen, and started hanging out with him. I’m making it sound way more noticeable than it really was—part of the only way I knew was that I could hear Jared talking to the boy on his other side, Paul Rivers. Paul was kind of a freak, in my opinion, because a) he was like the first one after Sam to go all muscled, and b) because you could practically trip over his backpack and he’d get really mad. One time I saw him start actually shaking, all over. I was scared, and I think at least some of my classmates were, too, but Jared put a hand on his shoulder and he eventually calmed down.
Anyway, trig was now my favorite class because I liked math and I liked Jared. What could be better? It was easier than English, which had more of the Quileute school bullies. Well, they weren't really bullies anymore, but they weren't nice. I had had a feeling that Jared and Paul both would have loved to stamp them like bugs, but it seemed a little unlikely, at least before the growth spurts, because both of them were smaller than the bullies.
And then all of a sudden Sam’s cronies towered over them—towered over everybody in the school—and English became more bearable as the suddenly smaller gang slunk into the shadows.
“Hey, Kim!” Jodi called, jogging over to my locker.
“Hi,” I said. Jodi was my oldest friend, possibly because we were so opposite. Yeah, our music tastes were close and we liked some of the same authors, but she was beautiful, short, and outgoing. I was the shy, unfortunate dweeb who had a lot of the same classes with her.
Then I caught her in the library one day checking out one of my all-time favorite books, and we started talking. And became friends. I mean, it wasn’t that sudden, it wasn’t like we started telling each other secrets instantly, but Jodi accepted me into her group.
“In math today—you should have seen him! —Jared was so checking you out,” Jodi said.
I blushed. “He was not.”
“How do you know? You practically never even look at him.”
So true. I had no idea whether or not he’d glanced my way for most of the year, actually. Once I formed a crush on someone, I was too embarrassed to look at them. Pointless? Yes. Incapacitating? Oh yes. But there wasn’t anything that I could do about it. I’d probably die of a heart attack if I ever forced myself to actually make conversation with Jared.
At this rate, I was never going to be able to talk to the boy. Sure, I sometimes had conversations with him—in my mind. I daydreamed that he was old-fashioned (mainly so my parents would approve), that he was sweet, the type of boy who would carry your books after school. Yes, I knew that no one did that any more, but what did it matter?
I daydreamed that he was totally in love with me.
I knew he wasn’t, and I was aware that there was a good possibility he never would be. I wasn’t extraordinary, or pretty, or outgoing.
That didn’t stop me from pretending. After all, what harm could thinking about it do?