Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) (20 page)

“Well,” Jilly said, “I hope you had
fun.
”

“I did,” I said. “A lot more than I ever had with you.”

Jilly’s eyes flashed hurt but before either one of us could say more, the bus lurched to a stop and the door squeaked open.
Jilly climbed on and slid into an empty seat, pressing up against the window. She stuck her earbuds in her ears, then cranked
the volume on her Nano.

I flopped down in a seat in the last row. I felt bad about saying what I’d said but if she hadn’t been so snotty, I wouldn’t
have said it.

“What’s up with you and Hennessey?” Rosie asked when she got on, sitting down in the spot that would have been Jilly’s if
she wasn’t being a turd.

“She’s mad because I went to the mall with Reede.”

“Oh.”

I couldn’t tell if that was an “Oh, that explains it” kind of oh, or an “Oh, so you went to the mall with Reede?” oh.

“We invited her but she didn’t want to go.”

“She’ll come around,” Rosie said. She held out her vocab book. “Quiz me?”

I nodded as I took the book. Why couldn’t Jilly be as cool as Rosie about things?

*   *   *

After school, on my way to I-Club, I told Mr. F about Jilly being mad at me. I didn’t mention what I’d said to her about having
more fun with Reede at the mall.

“You and Jilly…” He couldn’t finish. He gripped the broom handle, knuckles white. He sucked in a raspy breath as he clutched
his chest.

I reached out to him. “Are you okay?”

He waved me away, taking in a few more breaths before the color returned to his face. “I’m fine, fine,” he said. “Old age
can really slow you down.” He smiled weakly and I felt my return smile falter. “Don’t you worry about me, Erin Swift,” he
said, jabbing a finger at me. “You’ve got enough to deal with.” He nodded his head and pushed the broom again. “You and Jilly
will work it out,” he said. “Remember the wisdom of the Pop.”

I nodded uncertainly. Last year he’d said good friends were like Tootsie Pops because they lasted a long time—unless you bit
them.

I looked at him carefully. His cheeks seemed slightly pinker. “Things will be fine,” he said, patting my arm.

“I hope you’re right.” I wasn’t just talking about Jilly.

“Of course I’m right.” He pushed the trash can into the gym as the first bell rang. “You’d better get going, young lady.”

“Right.” We knocked fists and I took a few steps before looking back. Mr. F’s movements were slow and measured as he lifted
the large dust mop. Like he was afraid the mop might break.

Or
he
would.

When I got home after I-Club, I couldn’t get Mr. F out of my head. I called his house and talked to Mrs. F.

“Sometimes he overdoes it, Erin,” she said, sighing. “I tell him he needs to slow down but you know how he is.”

“So it’s nothing serious?”

“Stubbornness can be pretty serious,” she said, chuckling. “But I don’t think you have to worry. You’re sweet to call, Erin.”

I felt better after we hung up and started thinking about what Mr. F had said about Jilly. It was stupid to be mad. This was
Jilly, my best friend since kindergarten. I had to talk to her.

“I’m sorry, Erin,” Mrs. Hennessey said when I called. “She’s in the middle of something right now.”

Yeah. In the middle of still being mad at me.

“Will you tell her I called?”

“Of course.”

The doorbell rang a few minutes after I hung up.

“Erin!” my mom called up the stairs.

“Blake’s here.”

Blake? What was he doing here?

“I hope it’s okay that I came over,” he was saying to my mom as I jogged down the stairs.

“Of course, Blake,” my mom answered. “You’re always welcome.”

She walked back to the kitchen and I stood awkwardly in front of him.

“Jilly sent me a crazy text this morning and then I didn’t hear from you,” he said.

“She’s mad at me,” I said, “so you’d better not send any more texts.”

“I wish you had your own cell phone,” he said.

“I know,” I said, but just as I said it, I had this random thought that maybe I was glad for once because I wasn’t sure I
wanted to be sending texts back and forth with Blake.

Where did that come from?

I looked at him. He was still cute but not as. I’d never noticed that one eye seemed a little higher than the other, and his
eyebrows were kind of bushy. He stepped toward me.

“Hey,” he said.

He had bad breath. Ugh.

“Hey,” I replied, trying not to breathe through my nose.

Blake glanced over my shoulder toward the kitchen, then took my hand and led me into the living room. He kissed me and I kissed
him back, trying to ignore the fact that bad breath meant a bad taste in my mouth. No way was I feeling the tingle. He put
his arms around me and tried for some tongue action but all I could think about was that if I had to keep smelling his bad
breath I might gag or worse.

I pulled away and smiled apologetically. “There are spies everywhere in this house.”

Blake gave me a slight smile. “I should get back anyway—I’ve got a ton of homework.” He turned back toward the door. “But
let’s plan something for this weekend. Tell your parents you’re going over to Jilly’s and we’ll meet on our own.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. Geez, this guy
liked
me. Me, Erin Penelope Swift. I
had
to like him back. I just had to.

“Sure,” I said. “We could go back to DQ or maybe the Y.”

“Too many people,” he said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “How about the park? Our tree spot?”

I gave him my biggest smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

After he left, I went back upstairs and unloaded my backpack onto my desk—was there a teacher who hadn’t given out homework?
I was picturing myself alone with Blake at “our tree spot,” trying to sort out my feelings, when the phone rang.

“Erin?” Mark’s voice sounded weird.

“Are you okay?”

He sucked in a breath. “Can I come over?”

I guess he was talking to Miss Sensitivity again. I glanced at the stack of books on my desk, then at my assignment notebook.

“Sure,” I said. “Come on over.”

KARA WAS NOT OKAY. IN fact, she was standing at my locker when I got to school Friday morning. She hadn’t been on the bus
so I figured maybe she was sick or pretending to be, after the breakup. But there she was at my locker, lips tight, eyes boring
into me.

My heart sped up, and I almost turned around and ran the other way. But I needed to get stuff out of my locker, and I didn’t
want to be a wimp, so I kept walking. She usually didn’t wear a lot of makeup but she had on a lot today. It wasn’t really
hiding her puffy eyes.

“Hey, Kara,” I said, but I couldn’t look at her. I focused on my combination, fumbling twice so I had to start over.

“You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” I said, but I sounded fake, even to me.

“He called you last night afterward, didn’t he? God, I can’t believe he called you.” Her voice cracked on “you” and I bit
my lip. How would she feel if she knew he’d not only called, but come over to my house? Sucking in my breath, I turned to
face her. Her eyes were bright but she wasn’t crying—yet. Good for her.

“I’m really sorry, Kara.”

“I bet you are,” she said, crossing her arms. “Now you can have him all to yourself.”

“What?”

“Oh, quit acting so innocent, Erin,” Kara said. “You’ve liked him for forever. Mark ‘Cute Boy’ Sacks.” She wiggled her hips,
her voice mimicking. “Oh he’s a Hot tamale, oh, I wish I could kiss him instead of my pillow.”

My cheeks burned. The things I wrote in my blog last year would haunt me forever.

Her eyes narrowed. “And I bet you made up this high school boyfriend just to make me think you didn’t like him.”

“I did
not
make up Blake Thornton and I don’t like Mark, okay?”

She straightened up as if she hadn’t even heard. “Well,
I’ve
kissed Mark and
you
haven’t.” Then her face seemed to sink into itself. “Have you?”

“WHAT?” Now I was mad. “I have
not
kissed him, Kara.” That stupid kiss we had last year totally didn’t count. Besides, that was before they started going out.
“We’re just friends.” I turned back to my locker, pulling out the books I needed for first period.

“Yeah, right,” Kara said. “Every time I’m looking for him, he’s with you. When I called him, he was always talking to you.
Erin, Erin, Erin. It’s all about Erin.”

I slammed the locker. “Mark and I are just friends,” I said. “I’m really sorry he doesn’t like you anymore, but it’s not my
fault.”

Kara looked down. “Yes, it is,” she said, her voice quiet. “You stole him away from me.”

“I didn’t,” I said. “I don’t like him like that.”

“But,” Kara said, the tears coming now, spilling softly down her cheeks. “He likes
you
like that.”

When I got to history later, Reede stopped me at the door. “Told you.”

I narrowed my eyes, still reeling from Kara’s words. “Did you say something to them?”

“What?” Reede snorted. “Why would I?”

“You were so sure and now they’re broken up.”

“You thought I’d do something to make them break up?” Reede laughed. “They didn’t need any help.”

“So you didn’t say anything to either one of them?”

Reede shook her head. “Promise.” She held up two fingers, her face solemn. “I would never lie to a girl who is lusted after
by high school guys.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. I believed her. She hadn’t done anything to split them up.