Crush Alert (10 page)

Dillon backed away from the determined glint in her eye. “Uh…okay…okay, Avery. Don’t go all psycho on me. Chill.” He grinned and put his palms up.

Avery’s face transformed as a victorious smile spread across it. “So, you’ll ask her. Right?”

Dillon said, “Yeah. Sure. Maeve’s okay. Besides, Billy would pulverize me if you quit. You’re the best forward we have right now.”

Avery smiled, relief washing through her. Everything was going to be okay. “That’s right. Trust me. You’d be meat loaf.”

They started walking again—not saying anything. Avery chewed on her lower lip, suddenly feeling very weird about what had just happened. She had turned down Dillon Johnson—Mr. Popular—and made him promise to take Maeve.
Is there something wrong with this picture
? Avery wondered as Dillon stared at his sneakers.
I don’t have a crush on him, Maeve likes him, so he should ask Maeve. Right?

“Well, uh…gotta go. See ya!” Avery turned and ran down her street as fast as she could. She just knew that if she didn’t escape now, she would say something stupid. Besides, what if Dillon like…like, LIKED her?

“See ya!” Dillon called as she raced away, her sneakers pounding on the sidewalk.

Absolutely Everyone Is Going

Isabel’s paintbrush dripped magenta all over the cardboard heart, and she didn’t even notice. “I know about art
night at Jeri’s Place, but why can’t I go to the dance?” Isabel asked, wishing Kevin would stop frowning like that. What was going on?

“Jeri’s Place,” he repeated. “Valentine’s Crafts.”

“Yeah! Okay, Saturday at seven, right?” Isabel insisted. Kevin had asked her about a month ago if she could help him out teaching art to little kids at the homeless shelter. But what did that have to do with the dance?

“It’s not on Saturday. It’s tomorrow, Friday, at seven.” Kevin sounded annoyed. He kept pulling her eraser apart and squishing it back together while his drawing lay on the table, untouched.

“What? You never said Friday!” Isabel’s face grew hot. She could have sworn it was Saturday! She never would have promised to do something the night of the Valentine’s dance.

“It was
always
Friday,” Kevin answered, his voice rising. “You said you could come, and I promised we’d be there.”

Betsy looked over from a table across the room where she was trying to measure something with one of the art room’s less-than-perfect rulers. Isabel ignored her. “I’m almost done with these hearts!” Betsy said, and turned away when she saw Isabel’s expression.

“But everyone’s going to the dance!” Isabel protested. “Everyone!”

“I’m not going,” Kevin answered in a firm voice. “I made a promise, and those kids are expecting us!”

Isabel felt her stomach lurch. What about her posters? And her decorations? And the shopping trip with Elena
Maria and the BSG this afternoon? All she’d been thinking about for a week was this dance, and in just five minutes—poof—she wasn’t going?

“I…I…have to get going,” she said, backing toward the door. “My sister’s waiting for me.”

“Isabel, you promised,” Kevin called after her.

W
hen Avery reached the front porch of her house, her breath was coming in quick gasps. And it wasn’t just because she had been moving fast enough to outrun a cheetah. Dillon was cool—he gave her noogies, talked about the Patriots, and raced her to the cafeteria after science class. But suddenly things had changed. Dillon had asked her to the dance. He wanted to go with
her
—Avery Koh Madden—who never thought about going to the dance with anyone. But then again, he seemed okay about taking Maeve to the dance too!

What a crazy, mixed-up situation,
Avery thought. She fished the house key out of her backpack, opened the door, and charged into the front hallway, dropping her backpack on the floor with a thud. She knew her mom would make her pick it up as soon as she saw it, but for now, Avery just couldn’t be bothered.

Then she heard her mom’s music.
Oh no, not the Cyndi Lauper CD again
. Avery groaned to herself. All her mom’s favorite singers from the 80s and 90s sounded like they needed looser clothing and a serious reality check.

Avery ran upstairs toward her mother’s bedroom and knocked on the door.
Maybe Mom can give me some advice on the Dillon situation
, she thought.

“Come in,” her mom’s voice rang out above the synthesizers and drum machines.

“Is that a new dress?” Avery asked, her eyes widening. Her mom looked drop-dead gorgeous—like one of those ladies on TV advertising hair products.

Mrs. Madden flashed Avery a huge smile. “Yes, it’s new.” She turned back toward the full-length mirror and primped in the glass. “Do you like it?”

“It’s all right,” Avery admitted grudgingly. “But why did you buy it?”

“Sometimes a girl just needs a new dress!” Mrs. Madden announced, like her daughter understood this feeling exactly. “I saw it in the store and couldn’t pass it up. It’s a perfect dinner dress, don’t you think?”

Dinner!
Avery remembered. The secret date with Mr. Ramsey! That’s why her mom bought that dress. That’s why she was posing like a model in front of the mirror in teetering high heels.

“Sure, Mom. It looks good,” Avery said, backing out of the room. She mentally scratched her mom off the list of people she could talk to about the whole Dillon-Maeve thing. It looked like her mom had her own romantic
business to worry about…which Avery didn’t really want to think about yet. Thinking about her mother and Mr. Ramsey gave her a headache!

“Don’t forget, sweetie!” her mom called down the hall. “Isabel’s sister is coming by in half an hour so you can all go to the mall to shop for your big dance! We should take a picture together when you get back. Two beautiful Madden women!”

“Uh…okay.” Avery had completely forgotten about the mall. Elena Maria had offered to take them all on Monday.
A dress is the last thing in the world I need right now.
She retreated into her room and closed the door, then cranked up her own music—loud enough to drown out her mom’s tunes from the age of the dinosaurs, and then took Walter, her snake, out of his terrarium. Walter always made her laugh.

All Alone

Charlotte dragged her feet the whole walk home from school. Nick had tried to talk to her again, more than once, but she didn’t want to hear his apologies or excuses. They would only make it all worse.

A gust of wind swept up her new Kgirl hairdo and slapped the neatly curled ends against her nose and chin. The warm weather spell seemed to be ending, and a slight chill in the air made her think of snow.
Maybe it will be a blizzard, and they’ll cancel school tomorrow
, Charlotte thought, picking up the pace a little.
No school, no dance!

She climbed up to the Tower to check her e-mail before taking Marty out. Sure enough, there was a message from Sophie.

Charlotte hit reply and stared at the empty text box. But there was nothing she really wanted to say.
I’ll think of something on Marty’s walk,
she told herself, and went down to her bedroom to find the little dude.

“Come on, Marty,” Charlotte sang in her happiest voice. “It’s time for your walk!”

Marty was still curled up under her bed. To get him to eat, she had to slide his bowls into the dust-strewn darkness. It looked like a nice place to be: in a cave, alone, where no one could find him, except those he loved most.

Marty stuck his nose out from beneath the bed skirt and whined a little.

“I know, I promise we’ll come right back.” Charlotte grabbed his leash and held out a treat from her pocket. Marty followed her out the door into the gusty street.

“I thought Nick liked me,” she told Marty as they walked toward the park. “Sophie says he still does, but she’s in Paris.”

They passed a gate where remnants of snow still hung to the metal bars. Marty trotted along, head down, not at all interested in sniffing the gate. Charlotte sighed. “What’s wrong with us, Marty?”

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

“Yum! I just love Montoya’s hot chocolate! It’s just the absolute best in the world.” Maeve took a sip of her favorite drink from her favorite bakery and grinned at Riley, who sat across the tiny table with a sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

Maeve watched him drum his fingers on the smooth
surface.
Was he tapping out the rhythm to a new song?

“Hot chocolate, hot chocolate, what would I do, without you?” Riley sang to his finger drum beat.

Maeve laughed and inhaled the heavenly scents of brewing coffee, fresh-baked pastries, and, of course, hot chocolate. She could almost forget that the dance was tomorrow night and not a single boy had asked her. Or that the rest of the BSG were going to the mall this afternoon to shop for dresses, but she had dance class…the one activity in her hectic life that she didn’t want to miss, even for shopping!

It was amazing what a ginormous chocolate chip cookie and a hot chocolate could do for a girl with a lot on her mind. Maeve pictured the dress she’d seen at Think Pink, the one with a flared skirt in a daring color only the boldest redhead would ever wear….

“Maeve?” Riley finished the last bite of one of the bakery’s special ham and pickle sandwiches.

“Hmmm?” She leaned forward, hoping he would make up another funny song, or something. Or maybe they could talk about that cool new indie band he had mentioned at school. I mean, that was why he suggested she come hang out with him, right? But as soon as she looked at him, Riley started looking everywhere in the bakery except at her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Maeve demanded, noticing that Riley’s face had suddenly paled. “You’re not sick or something, are you?”

Riley looked up, startled. “What? Huh? No! I’m not sick…I’m just…just…thinking.”

“Good. We don’t want anyone getting sick before the
big dance,” Maeve said as she took another long sip of her perfectly delicious hot chocolate. She had to admit, Riley always seemed a little bit nervous whenever she talked to him. Maybe that was just the way he was.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked. Studying Riley over the brim of her mug, she couldn’t help but notice how he was looking really cute that afternoon. His dark green T-shirt accentuated the color of his eyes.

Riley leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Maeve, uh…I’d like…”

Before he could finish, she sprang from her seat, her face alight with barely contained excitement. “OMG! It’s Dillon!” She tucked some hair behind one ear and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. It wouldn’t do for her to approach him with chocolate smeared across her mouth. Definitely not cool. “I’m going to ask him to sit with us.”

After all,
Maeve thought,
what is it my dad always says: “It ain’t over till it’s over.” Maybe I still have a chance…for a date to the dance!
She giggled at her rhyme.

“Maeve, wait!” Riley said as she bounded away, but in her excitement, she didn’t hear him call out. Rushing through the bakery doors, she practically tackled Dillon, who stumbled backward as she dragged him inside Montoya’s.

“Dillon!” she gushed, her blue eyes twinkling. “What a surprise! Why don’t you join Riley and me for some…light refreshments?” Maeve loved the sound of “light refreshments.” It sounded like something Audrey Hepburn, her favorite old-time movie star, would say.

“Huh?” asked Dillon as he allowed himself to be ushered into a chair next to Maeve’s.

Riley mumbled, “What’s up, man?” and knocked fists with Dillon in greeting.

Maeve didn’t even notice how flustered both boys looked. She sat down gracefully, rested her chin in her hands, and gazed at Dillon with a dazzled expression on her face. “It’s so good to see you again, Dillon.”

“Uh, we just saw each other a few hours ago at school,” Dillon said as he scooted his chair a little farther away from hers.

Maeve laughed, her best sparkling, actress-y laughter, making quite a few customers turn in their seats to see what was going on. She tried to quiet the thudding of her heart.
Okay, Maeve. Play it cool
, she told herself.
Pretend you’re Audrey in
Sabrina
—sophisticated, clever, mysterious.

“So…Dillon…what brings you here?” she asked as she tossed her red curls over her shoulder.

“Well, I was just passing by…” Dillon paused, glancing around. Riley was glowering. Both Maeve and Dillon noticed. What was up with that? They both shrugged at the same time.

“Uhhh…” Dillon continued, “you pulled me in here…so…you want to go to the Valentine’s Day Dance with me?”

Maeve squealed with delight and bounced in her seat. “Oh, my gosh, Dillon. I’d absolutely adore going with you to the dance. How kind of you to ask me!”

“Great!” Dillon stood up. “I’ll be going, then—”

Riley suddenly slammed his glass down on the table. Both Maeve and Dillon jumped.

“You okay?” Maeve asked. “You really aren’t acting like yourself, Riley.”

“Yeah, dude.” Dillon agreed. “You look kind of weird.”

“I’m fine,” Riley mumbled tensely, once again looking everywhere except at Maeve.

“Anyway,” Maeve said, and without missing a beat, went on. “Dillon! I need to go shopping for a dress and we’ll have to color-coordinate our outfits so that we don’t clash and you know I’m a redhead so we have to be very careful as to what color we choose to go with…”

Dillon looked around like a squirrel trapped in a cage while Maeve rattled on.
Fa la la la,
she was singing to herself in her head.
Everything is turning out just like I imagined!

“Well, I gotta go, Maeve,” Dillon announced, and jumped up.

“Me too! I think my mom’s out there waiting to take me to dance class. Feel better, Riley,” she called out as she tagged after Dillon.

“I’m not sick,” he mumbled, then slumped down in his chair and opened up a battered notebook. He took out a pen and began to write.

In the car on the way to dance class from the bakery, Maeve opened up her laptop. “Mom,” she announced. “Dillon Johnson has asked me to the Valentine’s Day Dance! There is so much to do, I just have to get it all down before I forget!”