Like Jazz by Heather Blackmore Page B

that people wouldn’t necessarily run screaming from the building if they happened to see me. Okay?”
    She stared at me and bit her bottom lip, seeming to want to say more. She scooped a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth before continuing. “Okay. I’ll drop it, but only if you tell me which dress I should buy.”
    “Why don’t you ask Dirk?” It came out with more bite than I’d intended.
    Her eyes narrowed. “I’m asking you,” she said flatly. After several seconds of silence, she added, “Please.”
    I dodged. “I’m sure you’re a much better judge of this sort of thing.”
    “I’d like your opinion.”
    I gazed into my yogurt cup and stirred the contents with my spoon. “You can’t go wrong with any of them.” She didn’t respond. I continued stirring. Finally, I took a deep breath and looked at her. “The agave one.”
    She arched her ever-expressive left eyebrow. “Why?”
    My yogurt became interesting again, and I shifted my weight, crossing my legs under the table. “Because…” I shrugged and met her eyes. “It’s magnetic. Dangerous.” Her right eyebrow joined its counterpart. “If…I mean…that is, if you like that sort of thing,” I stammered. She tilted her head, waiting for me to continue. “If you want Dirk to be physically unable to keep his hands off you, that’s your dress. Hell, anyone. Geez, I could barely keep my hands to myself, and I’m not even a guy.” Please, God, tell me I didn’t just say that.
    “Oh, really?” she asked, as the corner of her mouth curled up slightly.
    “Crap, I didn’t mean I couldn’t. I meant, you know, generally speaking. It’s…you looked…” I swallowed with difficulty. “Um, alluring, I guess.”
    Sarah sat up even straighter than usual, her eyes searching mine as if she were trying to read my mind. Suddenly wondering once again if she could, and not wanting her to be able to, I jumped up abruptly, wishing to escape.
    “You finished? I should get home.”
    Sarah stood slowly and held out her hand to me. Bewildered, I stared at it, unable to comprehend what she wanted me to do. She reached forward, pulled my wrist toward her, gently withdrew the yogurt cup from my hand, gave me a teasing smile, and walked our cups over to the trash can. I grabbed the tote bag and followed her out.
    Once Sarah parked in front of my house, I pulled her tennis clothes and shoes out of the tote bag and placed them on the backseat. I reached for the door handle, holding my things in my other hand, and turned toward her.
    “Thanks for today,” I said as I opened the door. After I placed one foot in the street, I felt her hand on my upper left arm.
    “Why wouldn’t you tell me Kip asked you to Homecoming?”
    I spun my head around. “How could you possibly know that already?”
    She killed the engine. “Dirk and Kip are best friends. Of course I’d know. So why not tell me?”
    I closed the door and sat back before answering. “Because I’m not going. And I’m not a gossip. It wouldn’t be fair to Kip if I said anything.”
    She furrowed her brow. “Why wouldn’t you go? Kip’s one of the most sought-after boys in school. He’s sweet, thoughtful, and he happens to be a friend. I want to know why you’re not going.”
    “Are you always this nosy?”
    She gave me an artificial smile. “Yes. So get over it and tell me.”
    I focused on the glove compartment. “I don’t like being teased about how I look.”
    “He teased you? Kip ? That can’t be right. Kip’s like, the nicest guy I know. What did he say?”
    “You wouldn’t understand.”
    “Try me.”
    “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
    “Are you going to tell me?”
    “Are you going to tell him what I say? Or Dirk?”
    “You think I’d do that?” Sarah sounded genuinely taken aback.
    “I don’t know you well enough to know.”
    “Ouch.” She stared out her window.
    Several uncomfortably silent moments passed, all of which found me feeling like an ass. “I’m