Cherish the Moment Chapter Two

Chapter Two

We've been looking at each other for most of the first month of school. I'm talking about Jacob Shapiro. He transferred here from Spencer Jr. High cause his family moved to this area of town. He said his parents had been wanting to move to this part of the city for some time, but his mom was very choosy about what kind of home she wanted, and also, they'd moved from Los Angeles and weren't sure in which part of the city they wanted to live till after they got here. Anyway, he showed up at Thomas Stone Jr. High this year and I just can't stop thinking about him.

He has dark, curly hair that's getting a bit long—he must have just gotten it cut before school started. I wonder each day how long it'll get before he cuts it again. I imagine him sleeping at night, his curls growing quietly and steadily. Then I imagine him waking up in the morning and running a hand through his hair, feeling the curls. Sometimes I want to brush past him and let my hand accidentally fall across his hair. But I know I'd never do that. Katie would, though. She's terribly bold.

I was standing behind him on line for lunch, buying some 1% milk. "Hi," he said. My heart did a kind of double leap and the pit of my stomach gave that little lurch you get when you go downhill on a roller coaster. I hoped my face wasn't doing the same thing.

"Hi," I said back, kicking myself because I couldn't think of a clever, original reply to his hi. Gosh, why do the TV shows make it look so easy?

"Are you eating lunch with your girlfriends today?" he asked. He has really dark brown eyes. My heart and stomach went into a repeat of the last routine. I hoped if we got to be friends that I wouldn't have this constant strain on my organs.

"Well, um, I was, uh…but actually I…," boy, did I feel stupid. I mean, he's just another person. I swallowed. This was not going well. He was going to wish he hadn't have even started talking to me, he'd be glad to at least have found out that Jereena Crane wasn't a prospect. Grace Kelly never had that problem, though I think Joanne Woodward did, at least in some of her movies. Why can't I be smooth like…

"Cause if you're not, I thought we might sit together."

I thought we might sit together. Oh. That was simple. I smoothed my hair and gave what I hoped was a carefree smile. The flip-flops my insides were doing were becoming very exhausting. "That would be great!" I exclaimed, forgetting all about how cool I wanted to sound.

He smiled. He has a big, deep dimple on his left cheek. What a cutie! The line was moving forward and we made our purchases in silence. We weren't comfortable enough to make small talk. It's not like with my girlfriends. Annie and I can chat during anything. I even remember an aftershock to an earthquake. Annie and I were on the phone talking about something and wham, a big tremor. I was talking at the time and I don't think I even paused, except to say, "Did you feel that aftershock?" She had, but it didn't distract her, either.

After I paid for my milk and he paid for an orange, we found an area in a corner right behind the quad. I had a turkey sandwich which I tried to bite into daintily, but that's almost impossible. I wish there were some instructions on how to eat when you first meet a boy. I almost didn't want to eat, but I was so hungry. Some girls can skip meals, but I just get too hungry. He pulled a meat sandwich out of his lunch bag. I offered him some of my milk.

He shook his head. "I have a meat sandwich. I can't have dairy and meat," he said matter-of-factly. I just sort of stared. Maybe he has a disease or some nutritional imbalance. Maybe it's some form of diabetes. I know there's sugar in milk, lactose I think it's called. How do you ask a boy you barely even know if he's got something sad and awful going on with his body?

"Uh,...sure...okay," I stammered. Nuts, this was going terribly. I was like one of these overly tall boys who trip over furniture, only I was doing it with words. My stomach wasn't flip-flopping anymore, but I was so tense my appetite had left. My sandwich looked suddenly like leftover leftovers.

Jacob had started on his sandwich and took out a box of grape juice. "You see," he explained patiently, as if I hadn't said or done anything out of the ordinary, "my family keeps Kosher."

I guess he felt that must have explained it. He continued eating. Okay, I thought, my turn. I tried to think of some intelligent way to say I hadn't the foggiest idea what he was talking about, except that it was a Jewish something. That much I understood. I mean, I wasn't born yesterday. But how do you say that you don't understand something that the other person thinks you do? Trying to learn all these rules is nerve-wracking! I just looked at him, watching him calmly chewing, probably having no problem of thinking what to say and figuring I was a real twinkie. Try as I might, all the scholarly-sounding questions seemed to float by like little bubbles that would pop if I touched them. Was I a dork or what? But I just couldn't think of anything grown-up-sounding to say, so what finally came out was, "Jacob, except for that Kosher is a Jewish thing, I have no idea what you're talking about." There, I'd said it.

"I'm sorry, Jereena. Kosher just means Jewish laws about diet, like which foods we can and can't eat together. There's lots of rules. We've always eaten Kosher, so I'm just real used to it. I guess I forget to explain it. I forget that other people might not have a clue." He smiled at me, and that dimple brought back the flip-flops. I wanted so badly to reached out and ruffle his curls. Instead I smiled back and took another bite of my sandwich. Oh yeah, my appetite was back.

Lunch-time always seems to go by so quickly. No sooner had Jacob and I gotten over that awkward moment, then lunch was over. Of course it was about forty minutes later, but it seemed to go by like a good dream. The bad dreams never end soon enough. The good dreams are over while you're still surrounded in their delights. It's like that last bite of chocolate. It never lasts long enough. Jacob and I just talked about, well...stuff. Movies we've liked, places we've been. Nothing serious or anything, just, things. But it was so pleasant. I mean, I stopped thinking about how I sounded and looked, and was just simply there. I don't know that I've ever felt that way around a boy. I usually get so tongue-tied that I sometimes have to think when a boy asks me my name. It is so embarrassing.

by

Jody Lynn Perry

Rated "G"