The Adventures of Jillian Spectre. Nic Tatano

      “I’ve, uh, got a date Friday night. Didn’t know if I could sleep late Saturday or if I needed to get home early.”

      She completely misses the implications of what I asked as a big smile grows. “A date, huh? Ryan taking you out?” Her voice goes up into a happy lilt.

      I finish putting the glasses on the top rack, close the dishwasher door and turn it on, then turn to face her. “Unfortunately not, mom.”

      She stops adding bracelets and her eyes narrow into a glare. “It’s not that Jake character, is it?” (It should be noted that the previously happy lilt in her voice has morphed into that of Linda Blair in The Exorcist.)

      “No, someone you don’t know.”

      “Name, age, arrest record.”

      Good God. “I’m having the CIA black ops team put together a dossier for you. They should be here any moment. His code name is Falcon.”

      “I have a right to know who my daughter might be…cavorting with.”

      “Well, I won’t be…cavorting…with a hooligan, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact I doubt I’ll be doing any cavorting at all.”

      She folds her arms and stands up straight. “Watch it, missy. I’m still your mother.”

      I exhale and roll my eyes. “Fine. His name is Will Carlisle, he’s a senior, very smart, captain of the wrestling team. Father’s a cop, so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

      “Long as he doesn’t get girls in trouble.”

      “Give me some credit, mom. I have no desire to push around a cereal covered toddler in Wal-Mart when I’m eighteen.”

      “So…a wrestluh?”

      “It’s not his career choice, mom. He wants to be a lawyuh in the fyoo-chuh.”

      She shoots me a sarcastic grimace at my attempt to mimic her accent. “My daughter, the smartass. But a lawyer is good,” she says, enunciating the word. She gives an approving nod, the demonic voice apparently having been exorcized. “Well, I guess he sounds okay. You like him as much as Ryan?”

      “I don’t like anyone as much as Ryan. But Will is nice and I haven’t been on a date in forever and I wanna get dressed up in something besides a cape. Besides, if I wait for Ryan to ask me out I’ll end up like the cat lady down the street.”

      “Does this…Will…have any powers?”

      “Nope, just a guy. Can’t read the future, can’t unhook my bra with his mind, can’t see the afterlife.”

      “Speaking of which…how are you doing with what you saw this weekend?”

      “I’m having trouble sleeping. Have you heard anything from The Summit yet?”

      “No, but Sebastien told me they would definitely have some news by the end of the week.”

      ***

      I’m pinning my strawberry tangles up on one side, giving me an asymmetrical look. Roxanne’s idea, and I must say I like what I see in the gold-framed mirror that sits atop my incredibly cluttered vanity. The style is very unique. Sorta slutty, but good. Might even keep it for school.

      My train of thought is broken as Mom’s voice comes floating gently up the stairs.

      “JILLIAN! YOUSE GONNA STAY UP THERE ALL NIGHT FUTZIN’ WIT YOUR HAIR, OR WHAT? YOUR DATE’S HERE!”

      I toss my comb on the vanity, proclaim myself as hot as humanly possible (which is probably luke warm to the average cute guy), and head down the stairs.

      Mom is waiting on the landing, looking up at me with a puzzled look on her face. I can tell she’s already made up her mind about the Pocket Chippendale. Mom wants tall, sweet Ryan. Well, join the club and take a number.

      I get halfway down the stairs and see my date standing next to the front door wearing a huge smile. “You look amazing,” he says.

      “Thank you, kind sir,” I say, admiring his outfit; a perfectly tailored blue blazer that shows off his incredible shoulders, khaki slacks, pale blue shirt and yellow tie. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

      He moves toward the bottom of the stairs and takes my hand when I reach the landing. I stand next to him and mom’s face drops as she takes in the couple heading off on a Friday night date.

      To say I’m towering over him is putting it mildly. The top of his head comes up to my shoulder. That little slit in my dress is right at eye level and he steals a glance. And smiles.

      Then he looks up at me, obviously used to this situation.

      ***

      A nice dinner, decent conversation, and a few dances later, I’m at the punchbowl getting a refill while my date takes a bathroom break. Ms. Henshaw, the old crone assistant principal, is channeling the Wicked Witch of the West with her wrinkled gaze as she makes sure some hooligan doesn’t spike the citrus punch which would result in serious cavorting. The music is not ear-splittingly loud, and thankfully not rap, a welcome change from the usual teenage gatherings that reach the decibel level of a jumbo jet with music lyrics that make little sense. So you can actually talk to people. Crepe paper streamers in the school colors, blue and orange, crisscross the ceiling while an old fashioned disco ball in the center sends a stream of reflections around the softly lit facility. It’s nice to be out with a guy; I’m having an okay time, but no fireworks.

      “Hey, Sparks.”

      I turn and find Ryan behind me, hands in pockets, smiling. Damn, he looks good in a suit. Math formulas, quick! “Hey, yourself.”

      “I was hoping to get you alone.”

      Okay, now I’m really confused. What the hell is this? Alone for what, a makeout session under the bleachers? Has seeing me with another guy made the jealousy light bulb turn on? “Well, you got me all to yourself for a few minutes. By the way, who’s your date?”

      “Don’t have one. Just came with some friends.”

      You gotta be kidding me. What a waste. All I can think of is he’d rather be here without a date than ask me out. “Oh. I just assumed—”

      “Listen, about Will. I happened to stand next to him earlier and I picked up some stuff he was thinking about.” He lightly touches my forearm, sending Roman candles through my body and stealing my breath for an instant. “He’s got something in mind that’s more than a goodnight kiss.”

      Great. I want him as a boyfriend and he wants to be big brother. “Geez, Ryan, a girl doesn’t need a mindreader to figure that out. He’s a teenage boy. Of course he wants more than a kiss. You all do.”

      I catch a glimpse of Roxanne on the dance floor and suddenly I’m channeling her spunk. I move closer, near enough to smell his Polo cologne, tilt my head down so that I’m looking up at him through my lashes like the bad little girl I desperately want to be, and give him my best soulful look while doing all I can to drop my voice to something sultry. “You know, Ryan, you wouldn’t have to worry about other guys I’m dating if you’d ask me out.”

      There, I said it. Did he get the message? C’mon, take the hint. Wait for it…

      “I just thought you should know, that’s all.”

      Annndddd…cue the palm slap to the forehead.

      “Thanks, Ryan, I appreciate it.”

      Ryan’s cell rings and he excuses himself just as Roxanne reaches the punch bowl. She notices he’s there and Will is not. “So…What’s the story here? You trading up?”

      I shake my head. “The latest episode of the young and the clueless. If I were the type of girl trying to make Ryan jealous