The Forever Crush (9 page)

Her question startled me speechless. It took a while for me to remember that at least to the outside world, he was my boyfriend. It would have been normal for me to talk about him from time to time. But I had nothing to say. Or, rather, there was nothing I
could
say about him and this whole crazy situation.

“It's all good,” I said, smiling a tight smile.

Twenty-four

You are a link in a pink chain. Do you know the explorer, Sally Ride? Ride, born 1951, was the first woman to be sent into outer space. Far out!

I was glad to see we had finally entered a more recent century with these e-mails. I read them a little more closely now that I knew who was sending them. Mrs. Percy did not become some warm and fuzzy presence overnight. But I was happy to know such a formidable woman was on our side. I tried to imagine myself as an astronaut. Scary, but wow, what a view.

The most wonderful time of the year inspired a holiday-themed dinner and a movie. It was at Clem's house again because her parents were among the most tolerant. Mr. and Mrs. Caritas always retired to their bedroom when we arrived. After taking coats and saying hellos, it was rare to see them hanging around. When you're thirteen, that's exactly the amount of parental contact you'd like to have when your friends are over.

Clem and Beau made a modified Christmas dinner. There was turkey and mashed potatoes and Christmas cookies for dessert. The house smelled warm and wonderful and put me in a holiday mood. I was doubly jazzed for both Christmas and the upcoming wedding.

Looking back on this second dinner and a movie night, I can see that I was overexcited and revving too high. For one thing, I was talking a little faster than usual. I seriously couldn't stop myself. I was just so happy to be there, happy I'd be sitting next to Forrest at the table, and happy to be spending the evening at what was nearly a grown-up dinner party. We didn't need to go out again in the cold because Clem decided our movie would be old Christmas specials that she had downloaded.

“I hope you like turkey,” I told Forrest, and he laughed. I was not about to fall for the same trick he pulled last time with the pad thai.

I said the food was amazing, which started a domino-effect of more compliments from other people. Clem basked in the praise.

“Clem could have her own cooking show,” Beau said.

“I totalllyyy could,” Clem cooed.

I looked at her and wondered what it was like to be her. I tried to imagine owning that face and that body and being paid good money just for someone to take pictures of me. Frankly, it was easier to imagine myself hurtling through space like Sally Ride.

“Who wants cleanup duty?” Clem called out when everyone was stuffed.

Unable to stop myself, I said I would do it. Forrest, feeling the pressure, said he would help me. Everyone cleared the table of dishes, bowls, and glasses and went to get started on the movies. First up was
The Grinch
.

The kitchen, unlike the candlelit dining room, was an utter disaster. The big roasting pan that held the turkey was brown with baked-on grease and full of bones and turkey goo. Potato skins sat in heaps on the countertop and the sink was full of dishes Clem and Beau had used in their prep work.

“Great idea, Jem. I'd rather be washing dishes than watching
The Grinch
with my friends,” Forrest said.

I turned to face the mountain of dishes in the sink and started sudsing and rinsing them.

“I'm sorry. I was just trying to help Clem, since she made all this stuff. You don't have to clean up if you don't want to,” I said.

“Okay,” Forrest said bluntly.

I got into a rhythm at the sink so it took me a while to realize he had gone. He just left me alone in the kitchen, like Cinderella. But what could I do? I would look freakish if I just wandered back into the family room. And I couldn't exactly go tell him to get back in here, like I was his mom.

A real boyfriend would have stayed. He might have put on some music, blown into the soap bubbles so they sprayed on me, or even taken the opportunity to kiss me in the privacy of a foreign kitchen. But the reality was that Forrest was just my forever crush—not a boyfriend. And right now, in the quiet of Clem's kitchen, I was thinking that he wasn't even that great of a friend.

I heard the swinging door creak and spun around hoping that Forrest had returned. But it was Clem's sister, Mimi. This time she was in regular pink flannel pajamas, not a tutu.

“Are there any cookies left?” she said. “I like the snowmen with white icing.”

I found the tin of cookies for her and she poured a glass of milk.

“Why are you in here alone?” Mimi asked.

The question caught me off guard. I couldn't say the truth and I was getting tired of lying all the time.

“My boyfriend was helping me but he left.”

“Boyfriend” stuck in my throat like a bone. Even when I tried not to lie, I lied.

“I don't want a boyfriend,” Mimi said.

“No?” I said, “You don't have a crush on anyone?”

“No,” she said. “Boys are gross.”

“Yeah, I used to think that, too. But then something happens and some of them aren't gross anymore.”

In fact, one of them is so not gross that I think about him all the time
.

“I can help you,” Mimi said. “I know how to load the dishwasher.”

So we worked together, efficient as sisters, until the kitchen was clean. I even wiped off every countertop. Then I turned off the overhead lights and switched on the light over the stove, like a nightlight, just like my mom did.

Back in the family room, everyone was gathered in twosomes, except for Forrest. This wasn't exactly a makeout party, but everyone looked really cozy. I sat near Forrest but not super-near him. He hardly looked up when I came in. Moments later he stood up and walked out. Bathroom. I took it as my opportunity. I followed him and waited a polite distance from the door. As I stood in the hallway, a door down the hall inched open and I saw a sliver of light. I prayed it wasn't Mr. or Mrs. Caritas. I was having a bad time but I didn't want to break the spell that we were having an adult-free party. It was Mimi again.

“Hey, Mimi,” I said, “C'mere.”

I had forgotten to ask her about library club and the bookmark bandit.

She widened her door. “Clem says I can't come out.”

“Just for a minute.”

She approached me and I asked if she was in library club.

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought so. This is kind of secret, but I wanted to know if you ever saw anything unusual at library club—like someone putting bookmarks in some of the books.”

“Um, no,” she said.

She turned and fast-walked toward her room. I was going to stop her but Forrest opened the bathroom door.

“Forrest, hey. Can I talk to you outside?”

“Why? There's another movie starting.
Peanuts
, I think.”

“I just need to.”

He followed me to the front porch and I closed the door behind us.

“I'm worried about something,” I said.

“What?'

“Well, Piper told me that people are saying stuff about us.”

“Like what?”

“That they, um, don't understand why we're a couple. Because you've dated all these, you know, hot girls.”

I fake-coughed out of nervousness. He looked at me blankly, so I had to press on.

“People don't believe that you like me. For real, anyway. That's what it sounded like.”

“Jem, this is exactly what I'm talking about. All these people always in my business. I'll go out with whoever I want. What does it matter to them?”

“I don't know. I guess I thought you should know that people don't—well, some people might not—believe the act.”

“I don't care who believes what. And you shouldn't either.”

“So that's it?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to the wedding?”

“Yeah, we can go together, if you want.”

“That's what people—other couples—are doing. You know, it's New Year's and everything,” I said.

I was talking to his back now because he had turned to go back into the house. I thought about pulling on the hood of his gray sweatshirt, to stop him like a dog on a leash. I resisted the urge. Forrest pulled on the doorknob but it wouldn't go.

“Jemma, you locked the door.”

“I didn't lock it. It must have locked automatically.”

“Great, we're stuck out here.”

I felt a stab of sadness. First, he left me alone in the kitchen. Then he blamed me for something I didn't even do.

I saw Forrest's hand reach for the doorbell.

“Don't ring the bell! We'll wake up her parents.”

“It's freezing. We can't stay out here 'til eleven.”

Forrest took me by the elbow and led me out into the yard, aiming for the back of the house, where the family room was. I wish I could tell you he was holding my arm like an escort. But he was clutching my elbow just to steer me this way and that way. It was pitch-black and the ground was unsteady below my feet. I worried about stepping on a wild animal or dog poop. I let Forrest lead me. Step by step, we edged our way around the house, looking for the milky blue light of the TV.

“Birdbath,” Forrest said as he helped maneuver us around it.

It took awhile and we went slowly, together, in the dark.

“Patio furniture,” he said.

It didn't look like patio furniture. They were shapeless forms shrouded in protective canvas covers. Summer felt a long way off. It was cold enough to snow. Would snowflakes change Forrest's mood? I hoped it would snow at the wedding. Finally, we saw the family room windows on the back of Clem's house and had only to go up and knock.

“Now you have me thinking like they do,” Forrest said.

“What?”

“The only good explanation for us to be out here is, you know.”

“Oh,” I said.

He grabbed my hand and pointed us toward the family room, where there was a patio door. I was cold and my cheeks were flushed, from the cold and/or the conversation. I was trying to make sense of this outdoor adventure and shake out the important parts.

But before I could, Forrest positioned himself between me and the patio door. People could probably see us from inside, I thought. We were standing face-to-face. He looked at me and then I saw his eyes close, his head tilt, and the ever-closer image of his lips coming toward mine. I flinched and then tried to prepare in a nanosecond. I closed my eyes, I tilted my head left, then right, and felt his lips touch mine. He held them there maybe two seconds and pulled back. He smiled at me. My insides melted like marshmallow inside a s'more. I smiled, too. Then Forrest pulled the handle of the patio door.

Piper rushed to the door to let us in.

“Oooh-OOOH-ooh,” Piper sang out.

I had a fierce urge to run to the bathroom so I could—I don't know—examine my lips to see if they looked any different. I didn't know what you were supposed to do after you got your first kiss. I was making it up as I went along. I sat down next to Forrest, but not too close.

The girls at the party looked up at us in what I swore looked like jealousy. Forrest McCann had kissed me under a cold, starlit, almost-Christmas December sky. They probably wondered what that felt like. It all happened so fast, I wasn't sure I even knew.

Twenty-five

Ms. Russo made a surprise appearance at Tuesday's Pink Locker Society meeting. This time, we heard her
clomp-clomp-clomp
down the school basement stairs. We were temporarily terrified, but then the shadowy figure edged closer and said, “Yoo-hoo, girls. Don't panic. It's just me.”

She pulled up a chair and joined our circle.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I needed to get word to you. Mrs. Kelbrock said she just can't keep ahead of the bookmarks anymore.”

“What does that mean? She's just going to let it get out in the open? Principal F. will shut us down in ten seconds flat,” Piper said.

“I know, it's frustrating,” Ms. Russo said, “but she does have more to do than sift through all the library books for renegade bookmarks.”

“We have to catch the person who's doing it,” I said.

“Is that right, Sherlock?” Piper said.

“We're just going to have to get more serious about watching the video surveillance of the library,” Kate said. “If they keep showing up, someone's doing it and they could be caught red-handed on that tape.”

“Good idea, but may I offer another suggestion?” Ms. Russo said. “This one comes from Mrs. Percy.”

Ms. Russo said the two of them talked and she sent a note. Ms. Russo pulled it out of her pocket and cleared her throat.

Dear Girls,

Kudos and laurels for your continued work on the Pink Locker Society! I sympathize with the bookmark issue, but perhaps this is the right moment to allow the PLS to come out in the open. Why spend so much energy trying to hide your light under a bushel basket? Sure, Principal F. may raise a stink, but your supporters are more vast than you know. Then you could forget about the bookmarks. Free speech and all that.

Yours pinkly,

Mrs. Percy

It was intriguing, but also entirely crazy. We'll just let Principal F. and our parents find out and everything will magically turn out fine? I doubted it. I doubted it very much.

“Mrs. P.'s absolutely right,” Piper said.

“It does make a certain amount of sense,” Kate said.

It was like they read my mind and decided to think the exact opposite.

“You're both completely off track,” I said, reminded of the GPS voice on my dad's car.

Kate and Piper turned and looked at me.

“Does anybody except me remember what happened last time?” I said.