Free Being Jamie Baker by Kelly Oram

worried. I thought about skipping, but I didn’t want to look like I was hiding from him after he saw me cry this weekend.
    Luckily, Ryan didn’t say anything to me during class, but he caught up to me like two seconds after I walked out the door. He’d flashed me a small smile as he walked out of the classroom, which he could tell I wasn’t happy about, so I thought I was safe. I thought for sure he’d just leave.
    I took my time getting out of the room just to be sure. Enough time that Mr. Edwards asked me if I had detention he didn’t know about. “Sorry, Mr. E. I was just kind of caught up in my book,” I lied.
    When Mr. Edwards got up from his desk and walked my direction I started gathering up my things.
    I wasn’t quite fast enough. “Interesting choice,” he said as he picked up the biography of Stephen King.
    “Hey, you said anyone.”
    “I’m not saying it was a bad choice.” Mr. Edwards chuckled at my defensiveness. “Stephen King is one of the greatest writers of our time.”
    That surprised me. “You like Stephen King?”
    “American literature isn’t just Mark Twain, Ms. Baker,” Mr. E. said with a wink. “I just find it interesting that you would choose the king of horror as the subject of your book report. Generally, people choose someone they can relate to on a personal level.” Which is exactly why I chose him , I wanted to say. But I didn’t want a lecture and a referral to my guidance counselor’s office, so instead I grumbled, “He’s a lot more interesting than Ryan Miller,” as I snatched the book back from Mr. Edwards. I was still a little sore about being forced to have a partner.
    Mr. Edwards laughed at me and then stepped out of my way so I could leave the room. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Baker,” he called after me.
    Mr. Edwards had successfully distracted me enough that I’d forgotten all about Ryan until I walked out of the room and found him waiting for me. I groaned as he peeled himself away from the wall and began keeping pace at my side.
    He didn’t say anything at first, which I thought was weird, and he was a little cautious when he finally spoke. I was surprised because it was the first time I’d ever heard him sound even remotely nervous. “How are you?” he asked.
    “Peachy,” I grumbled, refusing to look his direction.
    “Oh, come on, Jamie. You’re not still mad at me, are you?” I didn’t answer that. I was still furious, just not for the reason he thought. I went back to ignoring him, but he only waited for a second before trying again. “I finished my paper already. Do you want to read it?”
    “What, no parties? No hot dates?”
    “Yeah.” He laughed, a little embarrassed. “I’m not usually such an overachiever, but I was so worried about you after what happened that I didn’t really feel like going out. And since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I figured, why not?”
    Ryan was really starting to irritate me. I couldn’t tell if he really liked me or if he was just trying to score. I mean, Friday night in my room he was this incredible guy. He listened, he cheered me up, he promised not to tell any of my secrets—and so far he’d kept that promise—but then what was all that about earlier, with Mike?
    “I’m really sorry for upsetting you the other night.” He sighed when I didn’t respond. “I wasn’t trying to brush off your past. It’s just that you seem like an awesome person when you let your guard down. I wish everyone could see you the way I saw you the other night.” I was so touched by his apology that I finally looked at him and regretted it immediately because it turned me all gooey on the inside.
    Seriously, how does he do that?
    Suddenly I wasn’t mad anymore, but that was actually a bad thing. I slapped my hands over my face, rubbing at my eyes as I attempted to control my frustration. It was obvious I was softened a little by his confession, and I expected him to call me on it, but he didn’t. Instead he