Click Here (to find out how i survived seventh grade) (17 page)

I snuck a peek at him. He was staring at me, chewing the inside of his cheek. He was either going to burst out laughing or smack me for talking too much. But which one?

He didn’t do either. Instead, he opened the door wide, pulled out a short step ladder, and sat down. “You say he asked about your best friend?”

Startled, I nodded.

“And he thinks she’s cute?”

I nodded again.

“Is she on the same track as the two of you?”

I shook my head no.

Mr. Foslowski raised his fingers to his chin and scratched his goatee. “But you were friends with this boy. Before he said anything about your best friend.”

I nodded. Then I told him everything — about how “this boy” was one of the few people who never teased me about the PI, except when he knew I was ready to handle it. How we talked a lot about computers and other stuff, too, and he asked my advice. How he helped me figure out some things, too. The whole time I was talking, Mr. Foslowski just nodded every so often. When I finally stopped, he nodded one last time. “I’d say you’re lucky to have this friend.”

“But he’s not really my friend,” I said. “He was just nice to me so he could get to Jilly.” I clamped a hand over my mouth. I hadn’t used any names until now.

“But you just said you were friends before he knew about Jilly,” Mr. Foslowski pointed out. “Right?”

I thought about it. Walked through everything in my mind in the order it happened. “I guess. Maybe.”

Mr. Foslowski stood up, folded the ladder, and put it away. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but a good friend can be better than a boyfriend.” He reached into a jar and held out a cherry Tootsie Pop. “Friends are like a good Tootsie Pop. They last longer.” He chuckled. “That is, if you don’t bite them.”

Or they don’t bite you
, I thought. Then I sighed. I’d much rather have Mark like me more than a friend. Still, it was true that Mark and I were friends before he spotted Jilly on the stage that day. But could I be friends with him, knowing he liked Jilly more than a friend? And how fair was that? He didn’t even know her. It was all about her looks.

Sighing, I stood up and stepped toward the door. My watch read 4:30. I still had another hour to kill before Mom would be here to pick me up.

“They’re still in there working on those computers,” said Mr. Foslowski. “I was just over that way.”

Until he said that, I had fully intended to find another place to hide until my mom came. But now, suddenly, I had a different plan.

Mr. Foslowski raised an eyebrow. “Want me to walk you over?”

I shook my head. “I know the way.” I tucked the Tootsie Pop in my back pocket and strode down the hall. Then I stopped and turned. “Thanks.”

A hand appeared out of the closet and waved me away. Taking a deep breath, I put one Chuck in front of the other and kept going.

“Where did you go?” Tyler was in my face the minute I stepped into the computer lab. He acted like I’d been gone for days, not just ninety minutes.

“I had an emergency thing I had to deal with,” I said.

“Is everything okay?” Ms. Moreno had overheard me and her face filled with concern.

“Everything’s fine,” I said, guilt over the lie poking at me. “False alarm.” I attempted a smile. “I don’t have a note from the undertaker.”

Ms. Moreno returned my smile. “That’s okay. I’ll catch you up tomorrow.”

I nodded and dropped my backpack on the floor next to my computer and got to work. Not once did I glance over at the Mark cluster, though I thought I would leap out of my skin if I didn’t at least get one little peek. Once I got into the work, though, I mostly forgot about him. My group asked me questions and I answered them. I whipped the pages into shape, helped Tyler reformat his faculty interviews, and gave some eighth graders a lesson in image mapping. This is where I belonged. This is what I was good at.

“Okay, people, let’s wrap it up.” Mr. Arnett’s voice startled me. I looked up from my computer. It couldn’t be time to go. No way. But I could tell by the clock that it was. Of course, I’d only gotten an hour today, instead of the usual two and a half.

“Um, Erin?” Tyler was leaning toward me, still in his seat.

“Yeah, Tyler?”

“I was wondering. Do you want to, could you —”

Oh, no. Was he going to ask me out?

“— show me how to align an image again?”

I looked at him. “Oh. Sure.” Funny, I felt a little disappointed, rather than relieved, that he hadn’t asked me out or something. What was that about?

By the time I had shown Tyler all three alignment commands, the room was almost empty. The only ones left were Ms. Moreno, Mr. Arnett, Rosie, and Mark. Great.

“See you Thursday,” Tyler said as he headed out the door. “She had an emergency,” he said to Mark, like he had this inside information he was sharing. I couldn’t help smiling as I made sure all the computers in my cluster were logged off.

“So, what was the emergency?” Mark stood between two computers in two different clusters, blocking my exit. He had one thumb hitched under the strap of his backpack and his bangs were flung back, revealing both eyes.

“None of your business,” I said, avoiding those eyes.

“Yeah, I guess it isn’t.” He shifted his feet. “I waved, but I guess you didn’t see me.”

“I had to go,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “The emergency.” There was an awkward pause. “Look,” we both said at the same time. Then we laughed. That helped.

“I’m sorry I freaked out yesterday,” I said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

Mark nodded. “Friends?” He held out the hand that wasn’t holding his backpack.

“Friends,” I said, grasping his hand. It was warm, firm. The only other boy’s hands I’d touched were gross, sweaty ones when Jilly and I went to Skate City and a boy asked us to skate. I never wanted to skate with the boys, but Jilly did. They always seemed to come around in pairs, probably having done some rock-paper-scissors thing to decide who got to skate with Jilly. The loser skated with me.

“Um, Erin?”

“Huh?” I said, my focus back on Mark in the computer lab.

He nodded down at my hand, still clutching his.

“Oh, sorry.” My cheeks flamed and I turned away quickly, smacking my backpack into Rosie. “Sorry!” I said.

“That’s okay.” Rosie looked at both of us. “Did you two kiss and make up?”

It was Mark’s turn to blush. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him, and he smiled. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe he figured out why I was mad. Maybe he wouldn’t ask about Jilly anymore and he wouldn’t see her very much and maybe he’d forget about her.

Maybe computers never freeze and my feet will turn into a size 6 while I’m sleeping.

Tuesday, November 5

FYI, computers DO freeze and my feet did NOT shrink to a size 6 during the night. What does this mean in real life? 1st thing this a.m., Mark asked me Jilly’s name. Like I’m going to give out this kind of information. Mark went on to list everything I told him about Jilly, like he hung on my every word when it was about her, but not when it was about my latest web page. Can’t he just admire her from afar and not have to know her name, which would make her a real person?

But his cute face was all hopeful, waiting for my answer, so I decided to try doing this friend thing and told him her name, even though I had a large pit in my stomach, about the size of the one you see in movies that several unsuspecting people fall into in the middle of the jungle cuz it’s covered with leaves and stuff.

Well, nothing earth-shattering happened when I told him her name…sky didn’t fall and he didn’t suddenly see me in a new light and forget all about her. Oh, well…wishful thinking. So, I’m trying what Mr. Foslowski said to see if it’s true. It’s the Great Experiment. The results will no doubt be published widely in the scientific magazines.

PROBLEM:

Which lasts longer, boy friends or boyfriends? (aka, How long does a Tootsie Pop last?) This scientist, Erin P. Swift, has 1 thing to say about the Problem— WHO CARES? She wants Mark to declare his love for her.

HYPOTHESIS

Mark will continue to like Jilly, Jilly will fall for Mark, Erin P. Swift will be deleted, tossed in the trash where no 1 will see her, let alone find her and fall madly in love with her.

HYPOTHESIS

If they start going out, it will ruin everything.

Click
Yes
if you agree,
No
if you’re an idiot.

chapter 17