Dan sat next to her in AP Chemistry, but never seemed to
have the requisite supplies. At the beginning of the year, she became his go-to
paper provider, and he’d agreed to be her lab partner. Lucky for her, he was
the most precise measurer she’d ever met, and that included her mom, who was
like Attila the Hun with measuring cups.
Everything was fine until February 8, when he’d leaned over
their lab table and asked if she had a hot date for Valentine’s Day. Her pencil
slipped, and instead of entering “NR” for the cross of Pb with Pb(NO3)2,
she blistered through the page with the tip of her Ticonderoga. “What did you
say?” she asked.
His dark hair flopped over his eyebrows, almost reaching his
cheekbones. “Here,” he said. “Let me do that. You’re messing it up again.”
Since that moment, she’d been haunted by the implications of his question. No
one had ever asked her out and she’d assumed no one ever would, not while she
had baby fat and bad skin.
One day during sophomore year, class president Javier
Benavides flung an arm around her after biology class. Javier’s friend said,
“Hey, is this your new girl?” Javier raised both hands quicker than a cowboy in
a calf-tying contest. “No way,” he’d said. “These are the ones you save for
marriage.” Emma had no idea what that meant, aside from the fact that it was
mortally embarrassing for Javier’s name to be linked with hers in any romantic
context. She was dating kryptonite—until February 8 at 11:42 a.m., when Dan
joked about her having a date on Valentine’s Day. This was no small thing.
She watched Dan and his friends walk toward her table. They
were heading for the main hall, its doorway just behind her. She liked the way
he walked, with slightly turned-out legs that weren’t bowed but definitely
weren’t straight. He had very smooth lips, while hers were always chapped. It
didn’t seem fair.
She tried to smile, in case he looked at her. The boys
shuffled by, talking about the match on Saturday. He didn’t see her. He didn’t
even look in her general direction. Story
of my life, she thought.
Jenni
Wiltz writes fiction and creative nonfiction. She's won national writing awards
for creative nonfiction and romantic suspense, including a 2011 Romance Writers
of America Kiss of Death Chapter's Daphne du Maurier Award for her novel, The
Cherbourg Jewels. She also writes thrillers, historical fiction, and
paranormal romance, and you may have seen her short stories in The
Portland Review, Gargoyle, and the Sacramento
News & Review. After earning bachelor’s degrees in English and history
and a Master’s degree in English, she worked as a web editor, a copywriter, and
a USAID grant program coordinator, which gave her the opportunity to travel to
Kenya. When she's not writing, she
enjoys reading, sewing, running, and genealogical research. She lives in Pilot Hill, California and has
not yet struck gold in her backyard. Visit her online at JenniWiltz.com.
Website: http://jenniwiltz.com
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JenniWiltz
Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JenniWiltz/posts
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/jenni_wiltz
Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/jenniwiltz/
Buy Links
Dan sat next to her in AP Chemistry, but never seemed to
have the requisite supplies. At the beginning of the year, she became his go-to
paper provider, and he’d agreed to be her lab partner. Lucky for her, he was
the most precise measurer she’d ever met, and that included her mom, who was
like Attila the Hun with measuring cups.
Everything was fine until February 8, when he’d leaned over
their lab table and asked if she had a hot date for Valentine’s Day. Her pencil
slipped, and instead of entering “NR” for the cross of Pb with Pb(NO3)2,
she blistered through the page with the tip of her Ticonderoga. “What did you
say?” she asked.
His dark hair flopped over his eyebrows, almost reaching his
cheekbones. “Here,” he said. “Let me do that. You’re messing it up again.”
Since that moment, she’d been haunted by the implications of his question. No
one had ever asked her out and she’d assumed no one ever would, not while she
had baby fat and bad skin.
One day during sophomore year, class president Javier
Benavides flung an arm around her after biology class. Javier’s friend said,
“Hey, is this your new girl?” Javier raised both hands quicker than a cowboy in
a calf-tying contest. “No way,” he’d said. “These are the ones you save for
marriage.” Emma had no idea what that meant, aside from the fact that it was
mortally embarrassing for Javier’s name to be linked with hers in any romantic
context. She was dating kryptonite—until February 8 at 11:42 a.m., when Dan
joked about her having a date on Valentine’s Day. This was no small thing.
She watched Dan and his friends walk toward her table. They
were heading for the main hall, its doorway just behind her. She liked the way
he walked, with slightly turned-out legs that weren’t bowed but definitely
weren’t straight. He had very smooth lips, while hers were always chapped. It
didn’t seem fair.
She tried to smile, in case he looked at her. The boys
shuffled by, talking about the match on Saturday. He didn’t see her. He didn’t
even look in her general direction. Story
of my life, she thought.
Jenni
Wiltz writes fiction and creative nonfiction. She's won national writing awards
for creative nonfiction and romantic suspense, including a 2011 Romance Writers
of America Kiss of Death Chapter's Daphne du Maurier Award for her novel, The
Cherbourg Jewels. She also writes thrillers, historical fiction, and
paranormal romance, and you may have seen her short stories in The
Portland Review, Gargoyle, and the Sacramento
News & Review. After earning bachelor’s degrees in English and history
and a Master’s degree in English, she worked as a web editor, a copywriter, and
a USAID grant program coordinator, which gave her the opportunity to travel to
Kenya. When she's not writing, she
enjoys reading, sewing, running, and genealogical research. She lives in Pilot Hill, California and has
not yet struck gold in her backyard. Visit her online at JenniWiltz.com.
Website: http://jenniwiltz.com
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JenniWiltz
Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JenniWiltz/posts
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/jenni_wiltz
Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/jenniwiltz/
Jenni
Wiltz writes fiction and creative nonfiction. She's won national writing awards
for creative nonfiction and romantic suspense, including a 2011 Romance Writers
of America Kiss of Death Chapter's Daphne du Maurier Award for her novel, The
Cherbourg Jewels. She also writes thrillers, historical fiction, and
paranormal romance, and you may have seen her short stories in The
Portland Review, Gargoyle, and the Sacramento
News & Review. After earning bachelor’s degrees in English and history
and a Master’s degree in English, she worked as a web editor, a copywriter, and
a USAID grant program coordinator, which gave her the opportunity to travel to
Kenya. When she's not writing, she
enjoys reading, sewing, running, and genealogical research. She lives in Pilot Hill, California and has
not yet struck gold in her backyard. Visit her online at JenniWiltz.com.
Website: http://jenniwiltz.com
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JenniWiltz
Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JenniWiltz/posts
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/jenni_wiltz
Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/jenniwiltz/
Buy Links
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