Currently Unpublished 
CHAPTER ONE OF MALINA AND THE LOST ART By Pam Keaton
“Your house is haunted. Can I have your fries?”
Malina snapped the paperback book shut with an irritated sigh. Until that moment, she had successfully ignored the cocky boy’s attempts to goad her into conversation. For the first few minutes, he tried sitting beside her, nudging her shoulder playfully with his own. Next, he made several loud sighs indicating how bored and lonely he was. After that, he leaned his body over the table so he could put his face between Malina’s and the book she was using to keep her mind off his antics.
Pushing the paperback to the side, Malina glanced nervously around the lunch room. She was relieved to find that none of the other students seemed overly interested in her current embarrassment. They had, apparently, been amused enough by the spectacle the boy had just made of her back in the classroom. Just when she’d thought they could be friends.
When Malina Miller became the “new girl” in school two years earlier, she was surprised and flattered by the stir her arrival caused. It was a small school with a few pretty girls, but those girls had, apparently, become “old news” to the boys of Georgetown Elementary.
Before class that day, as Malina stood waiting for the teacher to provide the necessary textbooks, a couple of boys ambled into the room. They stayed just long enough to be introduced to the slender new girl with long blond hair; then they slipped back out. A few minutes later, Malina heard the squeak of rushing sneakers and excited whispers as a group of boys pushed into the room. She had never before seen such wide eyes and goofy grins.
Some amazing transformation must have taken place in Malina since being a “complete nobody” at her old school. For the next several weeks, nearly every time she left her desk to sharpen a pencil or throw away some trash, she returned to find a folded love note from a different boy urging her to be his girlfriend.
There seemed to be some sort of understanding between the boys as to who would seek her favor and in what order. As soon as she turned one down, the next candidate’s note appeared. Malina wasn’t trying to hurt anyone’s feelings or string them along. The special attention was very new to her; and although she was flattered, the whole idea of fifth graders going steady seemed silly. It would be years before they were old enough to go on a real date.
The boys didn’t realize that they were going about it all wrong. Their forwardness with her and cockiness with each other only succeeded in turning her off to them all. After a while, she stopped answering the notes. Whenever she found one on her desk, after reading it with only minor interest, she stuck the note inside her art supply box. When the notes started taking up too much room, she carried the box to the garbage can and emptied it. She didn’t do it for a show. In fact, it never even occurred to her that someone might be watching.
It wasn’t that Malina disliked the boys. It was just that the way they asked her to be their girlfriend without even getting to know her first made “going steady.” seem trivial. She was convinced that her indifference was hurting no one; since she knew it wasn’t possible that any of the boys knew her well enough to really like her.
After a while, the notes got fewer and farther between. Malina had made it clear who all she was not going to go steady with. By that time, it was also clear to Malina which of the boys were not going to ask. A total of five boys from her class had not left a note on Malina’s desk. Nick and Brad were best friends with Brent Matthews, the first boy who had asked her. Presumably, they valued Brent’s friendship too much to try their own luck. Jack and Tom were the class nerds who, no doubt, figured they didn’t have a chance. That left Jeff Richards.
Jeff Richards was sort of cute and kind of funny. He was neither a geek nor a punk. He participated in class some but was sort of quiet most of the time. He was not disrespectful to the teacher. Nor was he the class clown. So far, he had been nice enough to Malina but not overly attentive. All of this, combined, made Jeff Richards interesting to Malina. She didn’t know him very well, but he had that much going for him.
Malina’s mistake had been to admit that interest to a group of girls who said they couldn’t believe she didn’t like any of the boys at Georgetown Elementary. The girls thoroughly embarrassed Malina by showing an instant and unanimous revulsion to the very idea. They laughed scornfully at her lack of taste and assured her that she would change her mind once she got to know him better. Malina was informed that the boy wasn’t very smart, didn’t bathe regularly, often wore dirty clothes to school, and probably used drugs. While Malina had not yet seen any of that herself, the reaction from the girls gave her no reason to doubt it and caused her to regret even mentioning the name Jeff Richards.
As it turned out, it was too late for that. The girls could not contain their glee…or their secret. Within minutes it was all over the school that the boy who had captured the attention of the much sought after “new girl” was none other than the “loser”, Jeff Richards. Unfortunately, that was only the beginning.
All along, Jeff had not been disinterested in Malina at all but had merely been certain of being shot down like everyone else. The revelation of Malina’s interest was all it took to push the boy over the edge. For weeks, Malina found note…after note…after note asking her to go steady with him. It wasn’t just notes either. Sometimes, he sent other students to ask on his behalf. Often, he even plopped down beside her on the classroom’s communal sofa and asked her himself. Malina was always painfully aware of the finger pointing and giggly whispering that Jeff’s constant wooing caused. None of the other boys had ever put her on the spot like that.
Malina had come to understand that the scathing remarks made by the girls about Jeff’s character were not entirely true. He didn’t fit into the clean-cut, rich-kid mold that most girls would appreciate, but he never actually seemed dirty. His non-name-brand clothes were a little wrinkly sometimes, and his wavy dark brown hair was a bit long. Sometimes he balled up his blue jean jacket and rested his head on it to sleep in class, but he usually knew the answer when the teacher called on him. Malina decided that he was more disinterested than dumb or on drugs. The end result was the same, though. The majority of the fifth grade class saw him as a “loser”, and his overt attention to Malina was embarrassing.
Although her latest and most persistent admirer reminded her regularly that his intentions were unchanged, the “new girl” mystique eventually wore off and Malina, too, became “old hat” to most of the boys at Georgetown Elementary. By the time they all moved on to Georgetown Middle School, Malina regretted that she had not been more receptive to some of those boys. Having spent more time around them, she really liked a couple of them. They, however, had decided to move on; and move on they did.
In elementary school, the displays of affection had been holding hands or saving a place for each other in the lunch line. Now, Malina regularly witnessed couples walking the halls with their hands stuck possessively in each others back pockets. It was nothing to see embraces, deep kissing, and a few flat out make-out sessions that the teachers had to break up. If those kids did that kind of thing in school, how far must they be going in private?
Malina wasn’t that kind of girl; but that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend. Unfortunately, it seemed like “that kind of girl” was the only kind that boys in middle school were interested in. Either that or they didn’t risk rejection as easily as they used to, and they had decided that Malina rated too high on the risk-of-rejection scale. Well, she supposed that was her own fault, and she comforted herself with the belief that someday she would have a great boyfriend. She didn’t come to school to meet boys anyway; she came to learn. She would just keep her head down and try not to draw too much unwanted attention to herself.
That was a good idea, and it might have worked, if there were no such person as Jeff Richards. All through sixth grade, and now in seventh, he remained dedicated in his efforts to get Malina to admit that she still liked him. She told him several times that she had never really liked him that way, but he persisted in leaving heart shaped drawings with their initials on her locker and having a carnation brought to her class on Sweetest day. Those things didn’t embarrass her as much anymore since the other students had stopped teasing her about him a long time ago. Jeff had remained good-natured about the continued rejection, and he wasn’t constantly around being a nuisance. She had gotten used to him, occasionally, seeking her out during a school assembly or sitting with her at lunch and stealing her fries. He even made her laugh sometimes. They were almost like friends.
That was the problem. She’d let her guard down. She’d gotten too soft. Today she paid for that, right in the middle of Miss Roser’s third period English class, while they were going over the previous day’s homework. When Miss Roser asked the class if anyone had any questions, Jeff Richards raised his hand.
“Yes, I have a question,” he said. “Would you please ask Malina Miller why she won’t go steady with me?” Just like that. Just as innocent as you please.
Malina’s eyes widened, and she instantly felt the heat rising into her cheeks as the entire class gasped, giggled, and guffawed. Then, Miss Roser, instead of getting angry and yelling at him for disturbing the class, turned to Malina and asked her.
“Yes, Malina, why won’t you go with Jeff Richards?” Not only that, but several of the other students followed up with, “Yeah, why not?”
The silence and collective questioning gaze told Malina that her classmates were, actually, waiting for an answer.
“Well, I like him but just not in that way.” She knew that was a lame answer. That’s what everyone says when someone asks them out and they don’t want to go. She couldn’t help it, though; it was the truth.
Malina still could not believe it. For the next ten minutes, the whole seventh grade third period English class discussed and reminisced about how Malina had never gone with anyone who had asked her. Brent Matthews, a boy that Malina had developed a real crush on, laughed and told the teacher how, back in fifth grade, Malina got so many love notes that she saved them up in her art supply box. Every so often, he said, she took her box up to the trash can and threw all the notes away at once; and there were a bunch of them.
The whole class seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially Jeff Richards. He sat back and listened, beaming with pride. Her classmates weren’t trying to make Malina feel like a tease or anything like that, but it was still extremely embarrassing. The only good part about the whole thing was finding out that Brent Matthews still remembered how he used to like Malina. Back when she was the “new girl,” Brent was the first boy who asked her to be his girlfriend. He was now the one that she most regretted having snubbed. The class bell had ended the horrifying discussion at least an hour ago, but Malina’s stomach still did flip-flops when she remembered how Brent had looked directly into her eyes from across the room and smiled. That was the first time since fifth grade that he had paid any special attention to her.
Now, here was that goofball, Jeff Richards, trying to act like nothing had even happened. He was eating her French fries—again—and trying to be cute.
“That’s it?” Malina demanded. “That’s what you’re going with to get me to talk to you again? ‘Your house is haunted. Can I have your fries?’” He wasn’t a bit sorry.
“Oh come on,” he said. “You’re not really mad. I saw the look on your face when Matthews started talking about those love notes from fifth grade.”
Malina never told Jeff that she liked Brent Matthews, but she didn’t deny it last year when he picked up on it. Jeff had witnessed the gooey-eyed way she looked at Brent whenever he and his friends walked past her science classroom. Jeff had, instantly, teased her about it; and she was afraid that he would use it against her in some way. Surprisingly, he never did.
Jeff was right. She wasn’t all that mad at him, but she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook yet. She might talk to him, but she would be snippy about it.
“Shut up!” Malina spat at him only half-heartedly as she shoved his shoulder. He rolled with the shove and flashed her a knowing smile.
“What are you talking about anyway?” Malina asked. “Who says my house is haunted?”
“I did. Didn’t you just hear me?” When Malina rolled her eyes, he decided not to push his luck.
“People talk about it every once in a while,” he said.
“What people?” Malina asked. Jeff shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand in a non-specific way.
“You know. People.”
“What do PEOPLEsay?” Malina mimicked his hand motion as she pressed for details.
“Oh, no real specific things. Just that it’s a huge old run down house, and it’s spooky. I haven’t heard about any ghosts or anything, but I heard that something really bad has happened to everyone who ever owned it. Not sure what, though. I think somebody died or disappeared…” He trailed off.
“Thanks.” Malina said sarcastically. “You’re a real fountain of information.” She pushed the rest of her fries over to him, stuck the paperback in her purse, and started gathering her lunch scraps and used napkin onto her tray. “Well my house is definitely huge and definitely old, but it’s not as run down as it used to be. I can see why people think it’s spooky; but when my parents are finished renovating it, I’m sure it will be very nice.”
“You should have me come over for a visit late some night. We can turn off the lights and tell ghost stories or…something.” Jeff winked suggestively as he chewed up the last French fry.
“Gotcha.” Malina said slowly as she backed toward the nearby trashcan, holding her tray in front of her. She winked back in an overly dramatic way and continued to hold his gaze as she flashed him a syrupy smile. “Never gonna happen,” she teased. Then she turned, dumped her garbage into the trashcan, and stacked her tray on top with the others. She smiled when she heard him chuckle.
He called to her as she walked toward the doorway. “Well, if you find any dead or “disappeared” people in your haunted house, you be sure to let me know, okay?” Without turning or missing a beat, Malina raised a hand in a dismissive wave as she left the cafeteria.
“I’ll get right on that.”
