Miss Taken by Sue Seabury Page A

and knock-off sneakers for
heaven’s sake. The girl who can’t remember to bring them for gym
half the time promenades about town like this? I need to have that
fashion consultation with her, stat.
    “Hey, Diana.”
    Diana smiled expectantly. “Hello, Jane. Is
Trey at home?”
    Oh, brother. I couldn’t even smile at my own
pun. “I’m not sure. I just got here myself.” Even though I had not
mentally checked into the house until a few minutes ago, it was odd
I hadn’t registered any of the usual Trey noises, such as his
snuffling around the pantry like a truffle pig.
    “Well, can I come in?”
    “Oh, sorry, of course,” I moved out of the
way. “Maybe he’s in the basement.”
    He was there, on my laundry pile. Well,
technically they’re his clothes, but he’s too lazy to move them, so
I consider them to part of my lumbar support system. A sickish wave
washed over me as I wondered if he had overheard the scream session
I had had with Mom. I waved Diana off to the excitement of watching
a basketball game with Trey in the basement and went up to my
room.
    It did not cheer me up at all to think that
my contour pile of laundry was being wasted on one poorly dressed
girl who was imagining that she was on a Valentine’s Day date with
my dorky brother who was probably totally unaware of this
fantasy.
    I lay on my uncontoured bed and tried to
figure things out. Most important question: how dire was the
situation with Ned? I hoped he was just driving around, blowing off
steam and not out picking up a one night stand to drown his sorrows
in and from whom he would contract some incurable illness.
    I pictured myself as Jane Nightingale sitting
loyally beside him as he lay on his deathbed, listening with great
forbearance as he apologized profusely for his mistake. Wiping his
sweaty brow, Jane Nightingale reminded him gently not to jump to
conclusions about things like a silly kiss at a locker and how it
definitely wasn’t worth catching deadly diseases over.
    I was being ridiculously melodramatic, but
the whole thing was ridiculous. I, Jane Grey, who had never even
been kissed by a boy as of September of her freshman year of high
school now had two boys battling over me. I hoped Ned would do
battle for me. Images of pistols at thirty paces filled my mind.
Ned would be quite striking in a top hat and tails, but with that
lazy eye, Kyle would probably be the better shot.
    Fantasies of jousting matches, rescues from
high towers and shoot-outs in tumbleweed strewn towns lasted until
Mom called me down for dinner.
    Diana was still there, and apparently
staying, although there were some distinctly uncomfortable looks
crossing her face. Trey even seemed a little ill at ease, which was
unusual for him. I shuddered to think what Mom had cooked up as a
Valentine’s Day ‘treat’ and felt depressed all over again about the
great dinner I was missing out on with Ned.
    “I’m sorry it’s not very exciting,” my mother
disclaimed. “Your father has a meeting tonight and I wasn’t really
expecting anyone else to be around.”
    Using my magical laser contacts, I
incinerated my mother for her insensitivity about my lost date. But
when she rematerialized with a platter of spaghetti and meatballs,
I allowed her to live. Even though it was fabricated from turkey or
some other low-fat, unpopular animal that doesn’t taste nearly as
good as the stuff with all the cholesterol and she had combined it
with chewy whole grain pasta, it did the trick. I definitely felt
calmer.
    Mom made a big deal over Diana’s brownies,
although I could see she was calculating how much butter went into
them and how little she thought that Diana needed the second
one.
    Okay, so maybe I was thinking the same thing
after she scarfed down more than her fair share of truffles that
morning.
    Thoughts of truffles reminded me of Ned. My
throat closed up.
    Diana can have all the junk food she
wants.
    Scooping up his fourth or fifth brownie -
it’s hard to keep