Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [15]
“She baked you cookies!” he repeated as if I’d missed the importance.
“So what?” I turned to get my bag, but Tim blocked my way.
“She wants to have your babies.”
I ignored that. He was insistent.
“The way to the heart is through the stomach, Logan!” I didn’t respond, but Mr. Elmer, who was passing by our table at the time, looked crushed. I guess he thought the anatomy lab had been lost on Tim.
“Tim,” I said, squirming around him. “She doesn’t like me like that.” Right? I mean, she said so yesterday. The cookies were probably just a way to say thank you. She just wanted to remind me that we were buddies, that she was there for me, and to forget about asking anyone else out; I was hooked.
Tim fingered a crumb on the table, sniffed it, and decided it was part of the frog. “Then can I have the cookies?”
Tammi was a lesser version of her sister. It was like someone had turned a strange knob and all aspects of Sage had decreased by about twenty-five percent: her height, the thunder of her voice, even the number of freckles. It was only in the area of chest size that Tammi beat out her sister; she had an almost impressive rack for a freshman.
I saw her after school that Monday, outside the cafeteria. She was tying her shoe in front of the butt-ugly mural that had been painted by the Class of 1982. A crowd of badly painted students (much more ethnically diverse than Boyer ever was) stood around an enormous bear, which was clad in Roman-style armor. The scene always reminded me of some sort of cult gathering; it was like the Boyer mascot was about to order a mass suicide.
Even though Tammi was dressed in conservative jeans and a sweater, there was no mistaking that this girl was Sage’s sister. When she stood up, I went to introduce myself.
“Logan?” she asked before I could say a word.
“How did …”
“It’s stitched on your jacket.” Her voice was much softer, much less intense, than her sister’s.
“You must be …”
“Right.” Tammi was staring at me like I was a used car with bad shocks and no radio. I regretted trying to start a conversation.
“So, Tammi, what do you think of …”
“It’s okay.” Tammi’s gaze made me feel like I was standing in front of a two-way mirror with five other guys as she decided which of us had snatched her purse. If I stared at a girl that way, she’d be justified in smacking my face. Eventually, she made eye contact.
“You and Sage snuck out together Friday, didn’t you?” She wasn’t accusing me. It was like when a cop asks you if you knew how fast you were going. It doesn’t matter how you answer.
“Uh …” I wasn’t sure what to say. Was Tammi planning on snitching to her parents? And why would she? I’d covered for Laura before; you never ratted out your own sister.
“It’s okay, Logan,” continued Tammi. “Sage told me she went to the movies with you.”
Great. I pictured the two sisters sitting in a darkened bedroom discussing my aborted kiss.
I dunno, Tammi, I guess he likes me, but, well … he rides a bike, and he actually grew up in a trailer. I think I’ll tell him I just want to be friends.
Tammi sucked in her cheeks, then peered up and down the hall and into the abandoned cafeteria. She motioned for me to lean in close.
“Logan, Sage shouldn’t be doing things like that. I think my parents know she lied. She could wind up in real trouble if she gets caught.”
If Tammi had been a hulking twenty-year-old marine I would have quailed at the warning. Coming from a fifteen-year-old semidwarf, it was just weird. Was she really such a goody-goody that she wanted to make sure Sage didn’t violate her parents’ insane restrictions? Didn’t she realize that she’d be forced to obey the same rules as her sister?
Tammi wasn’t finished. She spoke in such a soft whisper, I nearly had to bend at the waist to catch what she said next.
“Logan, I don’t mean that I want you to stay away from her. She says you’re a nice guy, and she needs a friend. But don’t convince her to sneak around. You might think it’s no big deal, but Sage