Chapter 2: Bailey, Master Hacker

Last night kept coming back to my mind all day. I wondered if there was just something missing in me that I couldn’t be sexy, but I dismissed that though. It was a learning curve. Maybe he was right, and I needed to learn to be sexier, I thought as I sat behind him on the bus. Most seniors drove, but we couldn’t afford a car, so we both rode the bus home. Addy and Becky were both going to cross country, so I didn’t see them at all after school. God, I’m kind of a loser. I hardly have any friends. I’m too quiet. Whatever.

I had my head plunked against the cold bus window waiting for it to start banging me over and over again when the bus would start rolling. My brother sat down a few rows up, he didn’t even acknowledge me. He was deep in conversation with some boys about some boysuff.

I sighed and stared at him. Would it kill him to be nice to me? It was then that I noticed he was staring out the window eyes fixed on something. I followed his gaze and saw he was staring at some of the soccer girls. There’s a lot of cross-over between the soccer girls and the cross country girls. But the ones that aren’t in cross country often run together before soccer season starts to keep their conditioning. I guess they caught his eye, because he was straight up staring. Not the kind of half-hearted glances at my legs, but straight up, jaw hanging open, hypnotized ogling.

Spence, Rashmi, Celeste, I counted amongst them, the other 2 were probably juniors. Last year’s JV soccer players, I figured. It would be stupid for me to just go up to him and ask him, “Is that what you like?” For one thing, his stare said it all. I guess my body could use a little TLC. Me and my scrawny chicken legs, I decided, needed to go for a run.

The bus pulled up to our stop and we shuffled off. I was kind of surprised to see him waiting for me.

“Hey,” I smiled at him.

He gave me a head nod and took out his earbuds.

“You rode the bus today?”

“Good catch detective.”

“No, I mean, why? Drew?”

“Drew’s ... busy.”

I wanted to ask more, and I was about to but he shot me a look that just said don’t bother so I let it drop. We walked back the rest of the way and I casually let it drop that I was going to go running.

He chuckled.

I sneered.

“You? Exercise? Aren’t you like, allergic to sweat?”

“No, I exercise,” I lied.

“Please you’re going to run like one block and collapse.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m going to go 2 miles.”

“Oh man, Bails, don’t hurt yourself. I’d be shocked if you made it one mile. Actually, if you go 1 mile, I bet I’ll have to come peel you off the sidewalk with a shovel. Maybe try a half mile”

I scowled at him with fiercely pursed lips.

He laughed out ringing and bright and looked at me with an amusement I hadn’t seen in a while. His big wide smile, the same smile he used to give me when I brought him a really cool bug back when I was a little tomboy. He muzzied up my hair, and chuckled, “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

I wanted to keep scowling at him, I mean, he was being a dick: totally patronizing, condescending, just being a complete Brian. But at the same time, my heart was leaping. Cute. He used the word cute. Okay maybe not leaping, maybe flip flopping? I dunno, it was confusing. Angering cause I didn’t want to be cute, I wanted to be more than cute. I really didn’t want to be tiny cute non-threatening lil’ sis. I fumed. Finally I found words, “I’m going to do it. I’m going to run a mile, you’ll see.” Lame, I know, but it felt strong at the time.

He just smiled, nodded, and patted me on the shoulder.

I got home and stripped out of my school clothes. I wish I had real athletic wear like they have on TV, then I could have put on a sports bra and spandex shorts, like those Victoria’s Secret models wear in their athletic line. I had to settle for another t-shirt and short shorts. I didn’t even have a sports bra at all. I guess I could have gone without, I don’t expect to be banging myself in the face with what little I’ve got. Instead I grabbed a halter style blue swim top, since it’s almost the same thing.

After an agonizing, greuling, painful, no good mile, I had a lot more respect for Constance the Queen. My lungs burned, my legs ached, and I just wanted to stop, but I was half a mile out from home. I finished the loop half walking, but I made it back. Finally, triumphant pride welling in my chest, I jogged to the backyard and called up to my brother’s window. He didn’t come to it. I yelled again to the same response. I thought about throwing pebbles, but the grass wasn’t giving me anything to throw. Frustrated, I just took off my shirt, balled it up and hurled it at the window. It hit with a thunk.

“What?!” He yelled down.

“One! And a half! Miles!” I yelled between breaths, “Suck it!”

I couldn’t tell his reaction, the window was dark with the sunset shining at that angle. He could be watching me, for all I knew. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but if he was, I decided I was going to torture him some more. After all, I was feeling saucy and confident, head full of endorphins and stuff.

If he was looking, he would have seen me start stretching. Bending over and spreading my legs wide. My butt was sticking straight up at his window, and I was hardly wearing anything at all. I did a lunging stretch and reached my arms up feeling the warmth of the sunset. My long bare arms felt good in the cool air, moist sweat drying. I imagined him staring at me as I stretched out on the grass. I tucked a foot behind my bottom and leaned all the way back. I may not have a lot on top, but at least I have flat abs, and I know he’d have to admit I looked good if he was watching me stretch out. I turned back to his window to go get my shirt and let out a yelp at what I saw. Instantly, I crossed my arms over my chest - it was our neighbor Mr. Gadsten in a dirty t-shirt and jeans standing over a bag of clippings with his hands on his hips. I couldn’t tell if he was staring at me from behind his mirrored shades.

The yelp caught his attention. “Hello Bailey,” he said with a casual wave as he turned to look at me.

“Hi, Mister Gadsten,” I decided to act casual, making conscious effort to put my hand down over my belly, fidgeted it to my hip, but that was too casual, then back across my belly where it held onto my other arm. I gave him a half wave with the other hand. I hoped he wouldn’t notice how nervous I was.

“Hope, I didn’t startle you,” he offered. There was only a three foot chain link fence and some shrubbery separating the two lots. It’s pretty much impossible not to see your neighbor when you’re in the backyard. I hadn’t even thought of that, and I was so wrapped up in posing and stretching that I didn’t even notice him. How long had he been there?

“No, just didn’t see you,” I crossed my arms. There was no need for me to be embarrassed. I mean plenty of people had seen me wearing less at the local city pool. The old me would have run and grabbed my shirt to cover up, but I decided to just be natural. I wasn’t some boring prude like Brian thought.

“Getting some exercise?”

I gestured back, “Just doing some stretching. I ran two miles today,” I lied.

“That’s good,” he nodded. “Want to know the key to fitness?”

I shrugged.

“Consistency. Keep at it and you’ll reach your goals.” I couldn’t tell where he was looking behind his shades, but I felt the weight of his gaze on me. Maybe I was imagining it, I mean, with all this trying to look sexy I was probably seeing leers where there were none. Still, the thought of it was kind of exciting. I mean, he was an actual adult type man. He bent down and picked up two bags of yard stuff. He looked at me with a grin and added, “And yard work makes great exercise.”