Chapter Seven - GRACIE

Gracie couldn’t help but smile as Mark pulled himself off the floor and into his seat. There was something strangely adorable about him. He was still a bit odd, no doubt, but she liked that he wasn’t cocky like the rest of the boys at school. He was easy to be around, and it was refreshing. She also couldn’t ignore the small thrill she had felt when he had fallen on top of her. She’d never been that physically close to a boy before. Gracie had dated, sure. She’d even kissed a couple of guys. But she had always been nervous they’d want more from her than she was willing to give.

Mark didn’t seem like that type of guy, though. Gracie caught his eye, but he immediately turned and faced the window.

“Are you all right?” she asked. Maybe he’d gotten hurt when he tripped.

Mark’s only response was a small shrug.

“I should have pulled my legs in more,” Gracie said. She noticed his cheeks were flushed, and she hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him.

Mark turned to her. “It wasn’t your fault.” He glanced at the students who were still settling into their seats, and for the first time, Gracie noticed that several of them kept looking his way. And it wasn’t with concern. She realized they were laughing at him. And he probably thought she had been too.

“For the record, you fall with style,” Gracie said, hoping to convey that she wasn’t like the others. “I never would have looked that good while tripping.”

Mark’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You think I look good?”

Now it was Gracie’s turn to blush. She laughed, trying to cover up her own embarrassment. She had never been smooth with boys. It was a miracle she’d had any boyfriends at all. Her longest relationship had miraculously survived a first date where she had peed her pants from laughing so hard.

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, well, you got that whole boy-next-door look going for you.”

Mark grinned. “I have to admit, that’s the first time someone has said that to me. What exactly are the traits of a boy next door?”

Gracie raised an eyebrow. “Traits?”

“Yeah, everything has traits that distinguish it from something else. Take whales, for example. Most people don’t know they are divided into two groups. One has baleen, which is a filter-feeder system, and two blow holes, and the other group has teeth and only one blow hole. So, what makes the ‘boy next door’ different from any other boy?”

Gracie blinked. She knew what a trait was, she had just never heard someone her age talk like they were still in science class.

Mark must have realized he had done something out of the ordinary, because he ducked his head and seemed to retreat into himself.

“Differences in traits, huh?” Gracie asked, dramatically tapping her chin with one finger. Mark looked up with a surprised expression, like he hadn’t expected her to answer his question. “Your typical teenage boy likes to show off for his friends, or girls. But it’s not like he’s going around and displaying his grades for everyone to see. He’s always doing dumb things to get attention. Like leaping off high walls or peeing off bridges.”

“People actually do that?” Mark asked, his face now contorted with disgust. “I’m never walking under a bridge again.”

Gracie laughed. “You and me both.” She paused. “Where was I? Oh, yes. Typical boys also spend hours at the gym to better their chances of getting onto the school sports teams. They tell their mothers they are doing it to increase their scholarship opportunities, but really they just want to increase their opportunities to get up a cheerleader’s skirt.”

Mark had never lost his look of disgust, which solidified for Gracie that he was most definitely not like anyone she’d ever met before.

“How do you stand being around all these Neanderthals?” he half-whispered.

“I don’t,” Gracie said. “That’s why I haven’t dated anyone in the last year and spend all my time with my friends. Alex’s boyfriend, Charlie, is the only guy I hang around, and he’s a rare exception to the rule.”

“They can’t all be that bad,” Mark said. “Statistically speaking, there should be a wide spectrum of types of boys at our school. Sure, a lot will land right in the middle of the bell curve. They’ll be the ones that are your ‘typical guy.’ They aren’t super great, but they aren’t bad either. As you move away from the middle, you’ll get your outliers. Some will be worse than the typical guy, and some will be like Charlie.” He hesitated. “And me. Good guys.”

Gracie wasn’t sure what to make of all the geek speak, but she had a basic understanding of statistics and could follow the conversation. If Mark were anyone else, she would have assumed he was like the rest, trying to show off. But she could already tell that he wasn’t.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not really fair for me to lump all guys together. I guess I’ve spent too much time with the guys that are on the wrong end of the spectrum. But on the other end, that’s where the boy next door lies…with the good guys,” she said. “They’re the ones that are unassuming and quietly making their way through the world. They aren’t out to make a name for themselves, but they take care of the people around them in small and meaningful ways.”

Mark looked like he wanted to say something, but was interrupted when Mrs. Krump stood at the front of the bus and called for everyone’s attention. She welcomed everyone and gave them the itinerary for the day. They’d stop every couple of hours for breaks, but would be on the bus for around ten hours that day. Everyone cheered when the bus doors shut and the engine started. Frankly, Gracie was shocked that twenty students had agreed to come on the school trip. Sure, it sounded awesome, but anyone who knew Mrs. Krump was terrified of her. Gracie’s friends couldn’t understand why she was purposely going on a trip—during spring break—where she’d have to be stuck with their history teacher for an entire week.

Of course, Gracie still hadn’t told them what had been going on at home—the endless days of taking care of her brothers and sisters…who she loved so much, she might add. She just loved them more as their sister than as their surrogate mother.

Gracie pulled out a book from the backpack she had stuffed full of things to do and snacks to eat during the long journey. She stuffed it down next to Mark’s duffel bag and rested her feet on top. Just as she had opened her book to where her bookmark lay, a guy who had sat down across the aisle tapped her knee.

“I have an empty seat next to me,” he whispered. “This is a long bus ride for you to have to sit by—” He motioned toward where Mark sat looking out the window at the passing landscape. It was late March and still cold. The blue skies and bright sun were deceiving.

Gracie frowned. “I don’t know you.” That wasn’t completely true. She had seen him around the halls at school. Everyone had. He was a senior and a star swimmer on their school’s team, and he acted like it. He was one of the ‘typical’ guys she had told Mark about.

“My name’s Cameron Taylor,” the guy said, extending his hand. “But my friends call me Cam.”

Gracie shook his hand. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Mark watching her out of the corner of his eye, though he seemed to be trying to do it stealthily. It wasn’t working. She turned back. “Well, Cameron,” she said, “I’m happy where I am, thank you.”

“R-really?” Cameron seemed shocked he’d been turned down in favor of someone like Mark.

“I’m already sitting with my friend, but I’m sure there is someone else who would love to sit with you.” The words had barely left Gracie’s lips when a brunette walked up and asked if the seat next to Cameron was taken. She kept glancing at her friends and smiling, like they had bet her to do it.

“Apparently not,” he said, flashing a wide smile toward the girl, though when he looked back at Gracie, his smile slipped.

Was it possible she had hurt his feelings? Whether or not she had, the fact was he had been more than happy to hurt Mark’s feelings. And Gracie wasn’t okay with that. She was sure Cameron would recover, but had she made a different choice, she wasn’t so sure Mark would have.

Gracie turned back to her book, pretending she didn’t see Mark’s stunned expression.

“What are you reading?” he asked after a moment.

She held up the book so he could see the cover. “Lord of the Flies.”

“Is that for your English class? I don’t remember having to read it.”

“No, I just wanted to.”

“Wow.” Mark looked impressed. “That’s a different kind of book than I expected to find someone like you reading.”

“What does that mean?” Gracie asked, lowering the book. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not.

Mark’s lips parted in surprise. “I think I’ve said the wrong thing again,” he said quickly. “I only meant that it’s a pretty dark storyline, and you’re always so upbeat and optimistic.”

She relaxed, wishing she wouldn’t have gotten defensive so quickly. “I prefer to think of it as interesting. Most people don’t get as much out of it as they could. This is the fourth time I’ve read it, and I’m still discovering symbolism that I hadn’t noticed before.”

There was a pause, and then Mark said, “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Turn down Cameron, I mean.”

“I know,” Gracie said, settling into her seat. “But why would I choose to spend time with him when I could spend time with you?” She couldn’t quite read Mark’s expression, and she wondered if she’d been too forward. She had meant it as a compliment—wanted him to know that he was just as good as any star swimmer—but maybe Mark had taken it differently than she had meant it.

After a moment, he gave her a tentative smile. “So, about those lost boys you’re reading about…”