Page 26 of A Scandal in Homeroom
“I didn’t know I was going on a date with a comedian,” I said.
“Have some faith, Miss Adler.”
“You can call me Reen, you know.”
“I prefer Irene, if you don’t mind,” he said. “There is something old-fashioned about your name. Like it comes from another time.”
“It was my grandmother’s name,” I admitted. Only I didn’t want to think about her or the woman who named me after her.
He started the engine then steered into the street, and I was somewhat impressed by how well he handled the car. There was no uncertainty in his driving.
“How long have you had your license?” I asked him.
“What license?”
“Uh duh, your driver’s license.”
“One needs a license to drive in the States? Odd. In London we only need a license to kill.”
“I swear to God Locke, one more lame joke from you and I’m out of here.”
He laughed and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Then I snorted and he only laughed harder.
By the time we got to the school, the parking lot was already filled. Locke found some space on a side street a block away. He made me wait in the car so he could open the door again, and I was ashamed to admit to myself how much I liked it.
Even though I was the one who told him he had to do it.
He was holding his hands together behind his back as he walked alongside me. At least a foot of space between us. No chance of him even attempting to reach for my hand. Which was good. I shoved my hands in my front jeans pockets.
“Is it my imagination, or have you gotten shorter?”
I looked down at my simple flats. “It’s the shoes. I thought we would be walking or else I might have…” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to finish that sentence. Then I screwed up all of that by blurting out. “Are you disappointed?”
“Disappointed?”
“With me. With how I’m dressed.”
I could see the confusion in his face. “No. I actually meant it before. You do look very nice.”
“Oh, cut the crap, Locke,” I snapped. Angry at him. Angrier at myself. “This isn’t how I normally dress, and you know it. You thought you were getting a hot chick as a date and instead it’s just me.”
He stepped in front of me so that I had to stop walking.
“Irene, look at me.”
“I don’t like Irene,” I muttered. “Everyone calls me Reen.”
“Irene,” he said sharply. “Look at me.”
I raised my eyes to look at him, not happy with his tone and about to tell him so.
“I don’t give two fucks what you’re wearing. You are, without question, the most beautiful girl in school and most likely in this entire town. I still don’t know exactly what you’re doing here tonight with me, but I can tell you the very last thing I am is disappointed. Do you believe me?”
I nodded. I did believe him. I let his words inside me, and it was strange, but they hurt my chest. In a good way.
“Now let’s go inside and get our fashion on,” he said, with a wry smile.
My anger gone, I returned his smile and the next thing I knew we were in the school auditorium surrounded by students and parents. A cacophony of conversations and noise, while we sat together, mostly not looking at each other.
