Crush Alert (9 page)

“Well, I’m done with boys,” Maeve blurted out. “They just make you miserable. Playing with your heart and
stomping all over it till it…bursts like a balloon!”

“That’s kind of harsh, Maeve,” Avery commented.

Maeve’s chin quivered as she placed her hands flat on the table and stood up. “And another thing. It isn’t cool for friends to steal other friends’ crushes. That is the ultimate in betrayal. It’s just like that Bette Davis movie
All About Eve
where the famous actress becomes friends with the girl who wants to be an actress too, and the other actress tries to steal away her boyfriend and take away her roles and…”

The BSG stared at her in confusion.

“Maeve. What in the world
are
you talking about?” Katani asked.

Maeve threw up her arms in frustration. “Bette Davis was a famous movie star a long time ago, and she…you should see the movie.” Maeve pointed at Avery, a suspicious hint of tears in her eyes.

Suddenly the table went silent.

Avery felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Dude!” Dillon said. “Pete Wexler was dissing the Brady Man, and I need someone with solid Patriots knowledge on my side. Come on.”

Avery gratefully let him drag her over to the boys’ table. She’d rather talk about football than deal with Maeve’s sudden attack of weirdness.

Maeve stared after them in silent outrage. Finally she jumped up from her seat. “That’s it! I’m out of here.” She flounced out of the cafeteria.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” Isabel said in a hushed voice. “It’s a love triangle.”

Charlotte momentarily forgot about her own problems and nodded. “I think you’re right. This is terrible. Maeve likes Dillon, Dillon likes Avery, and Avery likes…who?”

“Avery’s in love with fun,” Katani said, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“Maybe Avery is secretly crushing on Dillon?” asked Charlotte.

“Well, she
is
always hanging around the boy,” Isabel said. “And they’re always goofing around a lot, punching each other and stuff. Isn’t that one of the signals?” She took a bite of her sandwich and slowly chewed as she mulled the whole thing over.

“Poor Maeve,” said Charlotte. “I totally know how she feels. When you think your crush has been stolen away from you by a girl you thought was your friend…it really hurts.”

“Charlotte?”

She looked up from her sandwich, her body stiffening.
Nick.
“Yes?” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Nick looked down at his shoes. “Uh…could I talk to you for a minute?”

“I’m kind of busy now,” Charlotte said abruptly.

Nick looked at Katani, who looked at Isabel, who looked at Charlotte, who looked down at her hands. Nick turned and walked away.

“Charlotte!” her friends gasped.

“What?” She shrugged.

I
zzy, are you sure you don’t want to come play basketball? We really need another player for four on four,” pleaded Avery. “Besides…we could totally use the famous Isabel Martinez jump shot!” She laughed.

“I can’t, Ave,” answered Isabel, sorry to disappoint her friend. “I really wish I could play, but I’m on the decorating committee, remember? We’re going to turn the basketball court into a Valentine wonderland!”

The last bell of school had just rung, and Avery and Isabel were standing at their lockers. Kids streamed all around them, opening lockers, shouting to friends, and pointing to Isabel’s pink posters advertising the dance.

“Friday night—dance fever, dude!” an eighth-grader shouted to his friend across the hall. “You coming?”

The friend nodded. “Sure thing!”

Isabel smiled. This
was
going to be such an awesome dance. Everyone was getting really excited! She couldn’t wait to go shopping with her sister.

She and Avery walked down the hall together, and Isabel stopped at the door to the art room. When she opened the door, the scent of watercolors mixed with white glue and paper wafted through the air. “This smell always gets my creativity flowing,” she told her friend.

Avery peeked around the door, too. All the long, wooden tables were cleared off except one, which was full of bags from the local craft shop. Betsy was dumping them out, frantically looking for something.

“I’m sure I bought a ruler!” the head of the decorating committee exclaimed, to no one in particular. “How can we make sure the hearts are symmetrical without one?”

“The art room has rulers,” a short, dark-haired boy said, holding one up for Betsy to inspect.

Betsy rubbed a finger along the ancient wooden edge. “It’s full of dents.”

Isabel held back a laugh. She was totally messy when it came to art…papers and brushes and paint flew everywhere, and she never needed a ruler! In fact,
reminder for later,
she was going to have to tell Betsy that the hearts would look more fun if they were all different shapes and sizes and a little off kilter. But she would do that in a minute,
after
Betsy calmed down.

“Are you seriously going to attack the hoops with all that pink stuff?” Avery pointed to the pile of pink and red streamers, balloons, glitter, and metallic papers Betsy had dumped out of the shopping bags.

“Not today,” Isabel assured her sporty friend. “Today we’re just making decorations. We’ll put them up tomorrow.”

Avery took a few steps away from the door. “Well, it’s wayyy too much pink for me! If you finish early, Dillon and I could really use you at b-ball.” And with a wave, she was off to the gym.

“Ave, wait!” Isabel followed her out into the hall, letting the art room door close. Ever since lunch yesterday she’d been meaning to talk to Avery. Isabel wished Charlotte had said something about Dillon—she was so much better with words—but Charlotte was too upset about Nick to pay attention to anything else.

“Look,” Isabel said. “I have to ask you something, and it’s a little…awkward…but…I guess…well, here goes….” She took a deep breath. “How do you feel about Dillon?”

“Uhhh…he’s my friend,” Avery answered, looking at Isabel like she had two heads. “Why?”

Isabel looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Do you like,
like
him?”

Avery stared at Isabel, a confused look on her face. “Yeah, everybody likes Dillon!”

“Ahh.” Isabel sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. Avery Madden clearly was not processing the subtleties of romance. She was just going to have to spell it out for her. Isabel looked around the hall again to make sure no one was listening.

“Izzy, I have to go,” Avery said impatiently. “The guys are waiting for me.” And she began walking away.

“Just a sec, Ave. This is important.” Isabel lowered her voice and followed Avery.

“Here it is in a nutshell, Ave. Maeve likes Dillon as
in, really
likes
him, as in, has a huge crush on him.” Isabel explained. “But he only ever pays attention to you, so she’s, well, I think she’s pretty jealous.”

Avery fished a quarter out of her pocket and ran it along the grate on a nearby locker. “So that’s why she’s been acting all bizarre-o around me.”

Isabel shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” She was a little surprised at Avery’s laidback response to the situation. But, that was Avery.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Avery spun the quarter around in her fingers. “Dillon’s my friend. I can’t just stop hanging out with him!”

“I don’t know.” Isabel sighed, glad that she’d finally said something. “Maybe talk to Maeve?”

Avery nodded. “Sure. I can do that. We wouldn’t want our buddy Maeve moping at the dance! I’ll talk to her later. Gotta go.” With that, she bounced off down the hall.

Isabel headed back into the art room hoping she had done the right thing and wondering whether Avery understood how complicated a “love triangle” could get.

A Forget-Me-Not

Isabel was hard at work painting a gigantic cardboard heart when a familiar figure strolled into the art room.

“Kevin!” she waved.

He lifted a drawing out of his portfolio and laid it on the table next to her. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hearts, hearts, and more hearts!” Both of them laughed. Isabel’s table was covered with pink and purple hearts of all shapes and sizes.

“You definitely have a heart-fest going on,” Kevin commented with a wry grin.

Isabel looked over his shoulder. He was working on a black-and-white portrait of an older woman sitting on a beach chair near the ocean. There was a photograph taped above the drawing, and the resemblance was remarkable.

“What do you think of these waves?” Kevin asked. “I’m having trouble making them, you know…frothy…. It’s for my grandmother,” he added, a little embarrassed. “So don’t make fun of my froth,” he joked. But Isabel knew that he was really serious. Kevin’s art meant a lot to him and he wanted things to look the way he thought they should. The way he saw them in his mind.

“Did you try a kneaded eraser?” Isabel found one in her backpack. It looked like a wad of chewed-up gray gum, but it was her favorite art supply. When she wasn’t drawing, she could twist and shape it like a tiny piece of clay. She showed him the technique on a corner of notebook paper.

“This is great, Isabel,” he told her, his face brightening.

While Kevin worked on his waves, Isabel mixed up a magenta color for the next cardboard heart. “Aren’t these decorations fabulous? I’m so excited about the dance! Are you going?” she asked, expecting the “yeah” answer she’d been hearing in the halls all day.

She’d kind of had a vision running through her head all day. It seemed really simple. Kevin would show up in the art room like he almost always did after school, they’d talk about the dance, and somehow, they’d end up going together.

But that’s not what happened.

Kevin put down the eraser and looked up at her with a confused expression. “Isabel,” he said. “You
can’t
go to the dance.”

“I can’t?” she responded, not really understanding.

“No!” Kevin looked at her strangely. “Don’t you remember…?” he asked.

“Remember what?” Isabel asked nervously. Her hands began to shake as she wondered what she had forgotten that was so important that she couldn’t go to the dance.

“You know…art night at Jeri’s Place,” he prompted. “You said you would go.”

Best Buddies

“Dude, I can’t believe we couldn’t play basketball,” Avery complained, walking home with Dillon and the Trentini twins. They’d gotten to the gym only to discover all the hoops raised up into the ceiling in preparation for the dance the next night. Even worse, the janitor was in there sweeping and wouldn’t even let them practice passing and dribbling.

“Yeah, seriously, couldn’t they wait until tomorrow to clean the place?” grumbled Billy.

A winter breeze whisked around them, causing the tree leaves above to sway and tremble with each gust, but the air remained unusually warm.

“If only it would snow!” Avery complained. “I’d teach you guys some of the freestyle board tricks I learned in Colorado….”

She picked up a pebble and skimmed it across a muddy
puddle. “Oh, well,” she joked. “I guess an essay about my favorite poem is just as much fun….”

Dillon laughed. “Dude, you have a favorite poem?”

“No way.” Avery grinned. “I have to call Charlotte to help me pick one.”

“What’s up with Ms. R and that assignment?” Billy Trentini groaned. “She never gives homework over the weekend.”

Dillon knelt down to tie his shoe. “Teachers act like kids have nothing better to do than homework. I mean, when are we supposed to have fun?”

Josh Trentini jumped up and touched a low-hanging tree branch overhead. “Yeah. A guy should have the right to relax all weekend without worrying about doing more schoolwork.”

“Josh, you’re not even going to start your essay until Monday morning, so why are you complaining, dude?” his twin brother, Billy, quipped, and gave him a friendly shove.

Josh stumbled into Avery, knocking her off balance for a moment. “Hey!” she shouted. “Watch it, guys!”

The Trentini twins grinned. “Sorry, shorty,” Josh said as he ruffled her hair.

Avery glared as the twins took off down the street toward their house. Sometimes Josh Tentini really got on her nerves. It seemed like he never let a day go by without reminding her she was vertically challenged.
What a dweeb,
Avery thought as she adjusted her backpack.

“So are you going to the basketball game?” Dillon asked, kicking a small rock down the sidewalk as they went along.

Avery brightened. “You mean the one at Brookline High?”

“Yeah.”

“Definitely. My brother Scott says they’re gonna go all the way to the state championships this year.”

Dillon grinned at her. “Okay. If you had to choose only one sport to play and you had to give all the others up, which one would you choose?”

“Oh,” Avery said. “That’s a no-brainer. Soccer, of course! What about you?” She shook out her ponytail and looked up at the sky. If it didn’t snow, maybe they’d be able to organize another pickup soccer game. Only she’d be sure not to let anyone make fun of Maeve this time. That is, if she even wanted to play!

Dillon thought for a moment. “I don’t know. In a way, I think I’d have to stick with basketball. I mean, I can totally see myself becoming the next Michael Jordan.”

Avery chortled. “Dream on, dude.”

Dillon ignored her like he always did. “But then again, I’m really into soccer, too. I mean, I could take on David Beckham.”

Avery looked at him like he had two heads. “What world are you living in, boy? There’s only one Beckham,” she challenged him.

“But maybe you could be his teammate or something. After all, you are definitely the best player in our league.” Avery smiled over at Dillon. She believed in telling the truth about someone’s sports abilities.

The two friends crossed the street, dodging a kid on a bike who was too busy listening to his iPod to
realize he was about to turn them into pancakes.

“You really think so, Ave? I could play with Beckham?” The usually confident Dillon actually sounded a little surprised that Avery thought he was that good. “But”—he looked over at her, a devilish smile on his face—“check this out: Dillon Johnson, star pitcher at the World Series!” he bragged, and threw a pebble across the park.

Avery cuffed him on the arm. “Now you’re getting delusional.”

Dillon turned to her and gave her a goofy grin. “Or I could always become a tenth-degree black belt at tae kwon do.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “I think you should focus on graduating from junior high first.”

Dillon shrugged. “Hey, a guy can dream, right?”

They walked in silence for a while. Avery loved this time of day, when everybody started coming home from school and work. She was finally free to jump and shout and do whatever she wanted, and this warm thaw made her feel like running the rest of the way home.

“Come on, Dillon!” she shouted. “Race you!”

As she ran, taking huge gasps of air, she thought about what Isabel had said: “Do you like,
like
Dillon?” He was extremely easy to hang out with, and never seemed to care how she looked or what she said. The two of them could just chill out, like buddies.
Does that mean I
like
him?

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Slow down, dude!”

They stopped, leaning against the wall of a shop. Dillon said something, muffled by his heavy breathing. It sounded like, “Want to show ants?”

“Huh?” Avery asked. “What did you say?”

Dillon ran a hand through his blond hair. He looked at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. She stood straight.

“Avery, you’re such a spaz sometimes. I said, ‘Do you wanna go to the dance?’”

“The dance?”

Dillon playfully punched her in the shoulder. “Yeah, the Valentine’s Day Dance. You’re going, right?”

“Of course I’m going,” she said calmly, but inside she was shaking.
Oh. Wow
, Avery thought.
Dillon is asking me to the dance. Oh, boy. Trouble on Beacon Street.
Maeve would totally flip out if she said yes, but how could she say no? Dillon was, like, her best friend after the BSG!

Shaking her head back and forth, she looked up at him, her entire body twitching. “Hold up. I can’t go with you. You
have
to go with Maeve!”

Dillon stared at her with his mouth open. “What are you talking about?” he gasped. “Not
Maeve.
She…well, she’s just too, well…she wouldn’t go with me!” he stammered.

“You are so goofy.” Avery shook her head. “Maeve is totally crushing on you right now. And I mean, totally.”

“Totally?” He looked concerned.

She stood with all her weight on one leg, her hands on her hips. “Totally, dude.”

“But—”

“But, nothing,” said Avery, glaring at him. “Maeve really likes you, so there’s no way I’m going to the dance with you. Period. She’d be absolutely miserable, and I could never do that to one of my best friends. So you need to ask her to the dance.” She narrowed her eyes. “Because
if you don’t…I might have to join another pickup soccer team.”