Girls Acting Catty (10 page)

And the cause behind my fluttery-feeling stomach whenever he was around?

It's because I had a crush on him. Jason. Yes, Jason, my almost stepbrother. Jason, who's twenty years old, as in nine whole years older than me. Jason, with his beautiful wavy dark hair, and big brown eyes, and deep drawly voice.

He's the last guy I'd choose to like, if I could choose that kind of thing.

This was bad. No, this was a disaster.

chapter ten
crushed

I
t wasn't fair that my first crush was on someone so old. And someone I was practically related to. Someone I'd actually
be
related to in just three short weeks. I wanted to deny my feelings, but I couldn't ignore the signs.

Whenever I saw Jason, my stomach felt queasy, but in a good way. Like I was speeding toward a roller-coaster loop, and I love roller coasters—especially ones that go upside down. Whenever I headed downstairs, I hoped to run into him. I wanted him to ask me how school was, or what kind of music I liked, or how I felt about having chickpeas in our salad that night. (Had anyone else suggested it I'd have said, “Yuck.” But since it was Jason I'd said, “Sure, that sounds delicious.”)

But wait a second. Maybe that's just what it's like to have a big brother. Maybe I'm supposed to want to see him all the time. How would I know, since I'd never had one before? It didn't have to be a crush, did it? I needed to investigate and knew exactly where to turn.

After avoiding Jason all weekend, I found Emma at her locker first thing on Monday. “How did you know you liked Corn Dog Joe?” I asked.

Emma's eyes sparkled just hearing his name. “Oh, it's complicated,” she said. “I guess it was his smile. The first time I saw it, well, my heart went all melty, and I started feeling feverish. I've always thought boys in braces were super-cute. But Joe's braces look cuter than the rest. It's like his are shinier, and they glint more in the sun.”

“Huh,” I said.

Jason didn't wear braces. His teeth were perfectly straight and he had the sweetest smile.

“And he dresses so well, too. His T-shirts are always pressed and clean, not all wrinkled and stained like a lot of boys' at school. Haven't you noticed how his jeans always have a perfectly straight crease? He always rolls the cuffs just once, and just three quarters of an inch. I think he actually measures. I want to ask, but I don't want to embarrass him or anything. I know most people would find that dorky but I think it's cool. Like, geek-chic, which apparently is making a comeback. That's what Claire says, anyway.”

“That's it?” I asked.

She blinked at me and tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um, isn't there more to it?”

“Of course,” she gushed. “Most of it can't be put into words, though. I think about him all the time, and it's just this feeling that's hard to describe. Oh, and did you know he has a pet rat?”

“Ew!”

“No, it's cool. They're actually very smart animals,” she assured me, as she closed her locker. “He's not a sewer rat or anything. His name is Darwin, and he's got this twitchy little pink nose and the tiniest, softest ears. That's what Joe says, anyway. I haven't met Darwin. I have seen lots of pictures, though, and he's the cutest.”

I had a hard time conceiving of how a pet rat could be cute, but she seemed so sure. I just nodded. And then the first bell rang and Emma raced to class.

Braced-faced smiles, creased jeans, and non-sewer rats added up to Emma's crush, which all seemed kind of weird. But at the same time, I could relate. After all, I liked the way Jason ate clementines, peeling off the skin in one long, unbroken curl. I didn't even care that he sometimes left those curls on the kitchen counter.

And another thing? Sometimes when Jason wore a bandana to hold back his hair, he looked like a pirate. Not an evil pirate—just a cute, thoughtful one with a heart of gold. And did I mention that he knows how to juggle? Not just tennis balls or apples. He can juggle a spatula, a banana, and a shoe, all at the same time.

But thinking about all of Jason's great qualities wasn't helping my situation. I needed to make myself snap out of this crush thing. So I decided to come up with a list of excuses not to like him. (Besides the obvious, I mean— that we were about to be related to each other.)

Surely he had plenty of negative qualities. I just wasn't thinking hard enough. As soon as I got to English I pulled out my notebook and started a list.

1) Yesterday, Jason left his wet towel on the bathroom floor.

2) His dad is bald, so that means he will be someday too. I think.

3) He's a vegetarian, and bacon cheeseburgers are my favorite food.

4) He lives in Switzerland. That's too far away. After the wedding, I won't see him again for who knows how long?

5) He sleeps too late and watches too much TV. Although maybe that's just because he's on vacation.

6) He's a boy and all boys are dogs. Well, maybe not all boys are dogs. Maybe it's just middle school boys who have canine-like tendencies.

7) And speaking of dogs— mine likes him better, which just isn't fair.

I read over the list. It didn't really convince me, which was unfortunate.

“Annabelle Stevens,” Mr. Beller called.

I slammed my notebook closed and looked up. Mr. Beller sighed, like I'd physically pained him.

“Sorry,” I said, grinning sheepishly.

“Sorry is not the correct answer. And I'd appreciate it if you'd humor me and at least pretend like you're paying attention.”

I folded my hands on my desk and faced forward, determined to concentrate and not think about Jason at all.

Mr. Beller was talking about our next book report, so I took a few notes. But soon I found myself wondering how long he'd been a teacher here, and if Jason had ever been one of his students. If not, did Jason maybe have a class in this very same room? I wondered how old my desk was. Maybe it's the same one that Jason had. Maybe his gum was stuck to the bottom of it . . .

Okay, that's a gross thought. Hopefully they clean the desk bottoms every year. And maybe Jason doesn't even like gum. I'd never seen him chew it. Was that possible? Does anyone not like gum? How weird would that be? Part of me hoped this was the case so I could add it to my list of reasons not to like him. Although maybe that would fall under the category of vegetarianism, as in “food-related reasons” . . . which maybe shouldn't be a reason at all because who cares? Despite what they tell us in health class. You are not what you eat.

Clearly, not thinking about Jason wasn't working out so well. But at least I managed to get through the entire morning without embarrassing myself (again).

By the time I got to science, I had a new plan. I figured I was going about things in the wrong way, just trying to shake my crush. Like Emma said, the feelings were hard to describe. They were just there, and they weren't going away. So maybe what I needed was a replacement crush. Someone to transfer my feelings to. If I could find someone else to like, someone more appropriate, someone in my grade, for instance, then all my problems would be solved.

I stared at Oliver. I'd always thought he was cute, and I had to admit he was nice—for a boy— and the right age. We were in the same lab group and sat next to each other, so it would be easy to pass notes back and forth. But what would I write in a note to Oliver? My mind was blank, which clearly meant I didn't like him. I mean, I
liked
him but I didn't
like
him like him. Plus, he was still going out with Jesse. Things between my crowd and Taylor's were bad enough. I didn't want to give them another reason to hate us.

I looked to my left. Tobias wasn't even a candidate. The guy was too annoying to like, and not cute at all. Still, there were other boys in class. The table behind us was full of them. I turned around to look. Jonathan was cleaning his glasses with the bottom of his T-shirt. He had floppy blond hair and nice brown eyes. Not as deep and soulful as Jason's eyes, but they had potential.

“Um, do you have a staring problem?” he asked me.

Aaargh!

I turned back around without answering him. Middle school boys were so immature! This would never work.

chapter eleven
being green

A
whole week went by and I still hadn't found a new boy to like. But unfortunately, it seemed like maybe someone else had. My friends and I were minding our own business at lunch on Wednesday, when Taylor and Jesse, the Jolly Green Giant walked— no, strutted—by.

They kept talking to one another, and didn't even glance our way. Someone who didn't know any better would assume they didn't notice we were there. But they
didn't
look at us in such an obvious way; we knew they saw us and were doing it on purpose.

They stopped at the other end of our table, right behind Corn Dog Joe.

Jesse seemed hesitant, but Taylor sort of shoved her and said, “Give it to him.”

So Jesse tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a note.

Joe smiled up at Jesse, like they were friends or something, and then shoved the note into his back pocket without reading it.

Then they headed back to their table. Although this time? When they passed us? Taylor smirked. Like she'd won some game that we didn't know we were playing.

“Um, what was that about?” asked Yumi.

“Yeah, why'd she just give a note to your boyfriend?” asked Claire.

“You don't think she wants to get back together with him, do you?” Emma asked.

“There's no way,” said Rachel.

“You know what Taylor said to me in PE last week?” I asked. “That Emma should look out, because Joe isn't over Jesse.” I turned to Emma. “She called you a rebound chick.”

Emma gasped.

“Wait, when did this happen?” asked Rachel.

“I don't know—maybe a week ago.”

“And you're just telling us now?” asked Claire.

“I'm sorry, I didn't really know what—”

“Wait, what did she say, exactly?” asked Emma.

I shrugged. “Something about Joe being heartbroken over Jesse, but I don't think it's true. Joe doesn't seem heartbroken.”

We all glanced toward the “boy” end of our table. Joe and the other Corn Dog Boys were making armpit farts.

“He seems okay to me,” said Rachel.

“Maybe he's just masking his heartbreak with raunchy behavior,” Emma whispered.

“Then that would mean he's been heartbroken for his whole, entire life,” said Claire.

Emma bit her bottom lip.

“Don't worry. Taylor doesn't know what she's talking about,” said Rachel.

“It's Jesse's fault.” Emma huffed. “Jesse and those stupid stalks of celery. I'm surprised her skin doesn't turn green.”

We all looked at her, completely confused.

“You know how people who eat too many carrots turn orange?” asked Emma.

“Um, no,” said Rachel. “What are you talking about?”

“It's because of the carotene pigment,” Emma explained. “When too much of it builds up in your bloodstream, it'll change the color of your skin. The process is called carotenemia.”

“And green vegetables do that too?” asked Yumi.

“No, that's just wishful thinking.” Emma glanced down at her lunch: tuna sandwich, chips, and apple slices, all in a row. “I don't think it's true, anyway.”

“You've gotta wonder what's up with the green thing,” said Yumi.

“Maybe she has some rare condition that makes it impossible to digest non-green foods,” said Emma.

I shrugged. “Or it could just be some crash diet.”

“No,” said Claire. “She's always eating green gummy worms. What kind of diet would allow that? I don't know about the food thing, but I have a theory about her clothes. I think she's under the mistaken impression that, fashionwise, green is the new black.”