Me & Timothy Cooper by Suzanne D. Williams

CHAPTER 1
     
    Timothy Cooper , with his sandy-colored hair and sparkling blue eyes , was an absolute dream. Too bad he didn’t notice me. Ever. Could be there were lots of prettier girls arou nd. Or could be we were only seven teen and he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship .
    I didn’t think I was ugly. In fact, I’d gotten comments from other boys saying different. I had brown eyes, nothing remarkable about that, but my lashes were long an d dark. I also had thick, brunette hair with a natural wave to it. Girls always envied my hair. Mor e than one told me every day was a good hair day where I was concerned .
    But maybe Timothy Cooper wasn’t interested in brunettes . Or maybe he liked girls with stick figures because I didn’t have one of those either. That was embarrassing at times. Mom would take me to the big department store in the middle of town, and we’d have to shop in the women’s department to find clothes. I simply couldn ’t wear those skinny, tight things made for girls my age.
    Now, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t f at – o verweight. Just curvy. Which seemed like a good thing for the future, b ut not so much for a girl who was trying to fit in. And I wanted to fit in badly. I wanted the in-crowd to treat me as equals and Timothy Cooper to look my way.
    But fate or the devil or whatever you believe in always conspired against me. Until our teacher, Mrs. Walker, decided to put us in pairs.
     
    ***
     
    “ Taylor Lawton , you will work with Timothy Cooper …”
    My head shot up from my desk into the eyes of the very boy I spent all my days thinking of, and my gut twisted . Me and Timothy Cooper? Work together? The twist in my gut became a stone .
    Then h e smiled, and the room became brighter than the noonday sun. “Guess you’re stuck with me,” he said.
    Heaven help me, being stuck with Timothy Cooper wasn’t such a bad thing.
    The teacher walked between us , her skirt swishing against her panty hose . “Now, this assignment,” she said , “will require you to share a bit about yourselves with each other, so you’ll need to schedule time after school to work together and b e sure to t ake good notes.”
    Time after school together with … with him ? The fist curled itself around my insides and yanked.
    Mrs. Walker fixed her gaze on my face , like she could see inside my head . “ P retend you’re writing a novel about the othe r person. A sk yourself w hat about their life you would put into the story and also, what you would change .”
    She moved back toward the front of the class. Lisa Maiton threw a wad of paper at her butt , and snickers broke out.
    “ O nce you’ ve compiled all the information, ” Mrs. Walker said , oblivious , “ write one to two page s , double- spaced. It’s due next Monday. That gives you the weekend to finish. T his assignment will teach us about writing and some about our fellow students as well. ”
    T he class began chattering as she turned away , everyo ne figuring out how and when to spend time with their partner, yet I sat there my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, my palms sweating.
    Write about Timothy Cooper. Share my life with Timothy Cooper. I didn’t know which was worse. Or better.
    “So … when you want to get together?” he asked.
    Monday, today was Monday. I gathered my thoughts. And this was the second week in March of 2010 . And my name was Taylor Marie Lawton . And–
    “ Taylor ?”
    I smacked my lips. I could use a glass of water. “Y-yes. Taylor ,” I said.
    He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a funny one.”
    A fun ny one what? Girl? Human being?
    He opened his book bag and remo ved his cell phone, poising his finger over the digital keypad . “What’s your number?”
    My number. Give my number to Timothy Cooper. Dear God. I wiped my hands on my blue jeans. This wasn’t happening to me. I rattled off my number.
    His thumb flicked across the keys. “Here, I’ll send you a text, then you’ll