The Flip Side (12 page)

“Oh?”

“Student council thing. I told you I was serving as secretary for extra credit in government.”

“Honestly, Charlie. . . .”

“I know, I know—but if it weren't for school, I wouldn't be meeting some cool new people.” As if on cue, my phone dings, and Gwen raises an eyebrow at me. I glance at the text, and my heart speeds up. It's Bobby.

Had fun last night.

I hesitate, knowing I should ignore it. Now is my time with Gwen.

“Who is it?” she asks. “You're blushing.”

“Bobby.”

“That guy from the movie?”

“Yes.”

“Why is he texting you?”

I quickly explain about last night, then say, “It's no big deal,” even as I text him back.

Me too.

Want to grab a bite somewhere?

I smile.
Can't. With a friend right now.

Later.

I slip my phone back into my shorts pocket.

“You like him,” Gwen says.

“Yeah, I do.” I can feel the disapproval shimmering off her. “Take a right up here. There's a little park.”

A few minutes later Gwen and I are sitting on swings, our feet planted, just rocking back and forth.

“Did you notice I have a navigation system?” Gwen asks, and I'm glad we're turning the conversation back to her car, which was the whole point of our outing.

“No, I didn't. That's cool. You'll never get lost.”

“The map is on the console, but you didn't notice it because you were distracted. I know you like him, but what if he causes you to be inattentive or all dreamy-like at competition? What are you not going to notice?”

Groaning, with my foot I flick a pebble toward the grass. “I won't be distracted, Gwennie. And at competition I won't have my cell phone on me.”

“But won't you be wondering if there's a text waiting for you? I would. If I had a guy interested in me, I'd be thinking about him all the time. My focus would be fractured, and I'd have this little nagging piece wondering what he was doing.”

I shoot out of the swing, twist around, and face her. “Bobby is not going to distract me. We're not dating. He hasn't asked me out. He just gave me a ride.” Although the text he just sent was sort of asking me out. “And he doesn't keep texting me when he knows I'm busy.” He's respectful that way, never intruding.

“So you're going to tell him you're busy preparing for the Olympic trials?”

I dig my toe into the dirt. “No.”

“We've worked so hard for this, Charlie. You know how any alteration in our routine can throw us off. And guys are unpredictable. You don't want to end up like Coach Rachel.”

She's right, and yet . . .

“He wouldn't do anything to ruin my Olympic chances, Gwen.”

“Do you know that for sure?” she asks. “What if you have a fight right before trials or—”

“We're not dating!” I exclaim, frustrated because I'd begun to think maybe we could. “I don't even know if we're friends.”

“You don't text people who aren't your friends.”

“If you met him—”

“You won't even let me meet Zoe.”

With a growl I drop back down onto the swing. “He broke up with his girlfriend because she wanted so much attention. He doesn't like a lot of attention.”

“You're going to have a lot of attention after the trials.”

“If I make the team.”

“He's making you doubt.”

“No, he's not. I want it all. The regular life and the spotlight. I know I have to make sacrifices right now for the spotlight.”

“We all do. My dad told me to go easy on school for a while. With trials so close, my parents want me to focus on gym.”

I swallow as I think of my stack of books at home. “That's probably good advice.”

“If I can't finish junior year now, it won't be the end of the world. I can always come back to my studies in the summer . . . like, after the Olympics in August.”

“Right.” For Gwen, setting assignments and tests aside is not a big deal. For me, on the other hand . . .

I heave a sigh. At least if I can pull off the rest of this semester, I won't have school hanging over my head when the Olympics start. I will be free and clear, totally focused. “Since ignoring school isn't an option for me, I need to get home to study.”

“That's an additional reason why you don't need a boyfriend pulling you in another direction right now,” she emphasizes.

“No boyfriend.” Not that Bobby has said he wants that role in my life. Still, as we walk back to the car, I keep hoping to feel a buzz in my pocket, to get a text from Bobby.

•  •  •

When I walk into Alto's classroom on Wednesday for the student council meeting, I notice two things straightaway. Bobby isn't sitting by Kristine, and his arm is draped over the back of the seat of the empty desk beside him, as though he's been saving it. He grins at me, straightens, and his arm falls away, an invitation for me to sit there. Two other seats are open. I have to choose.

Ignoring Gwen's warnings that are going off in my head, I take the seat beside Bobby. His grin grows; his dimple winks at me. I don't even bother taking my lunch out of its sack, because my stomach is knotting up so tightly that I know I won't be able to eat.

The last two council members rush in and noisily take their chairs. Kristine calls the meeting to order, but she certainly doesn't sound happy to do it.

I call roll, pass out the minutes that I typed up—feel a sense of pride when they get a satisfactory nod from Alto and are approved by the council. I glance over at Bobby. He winks at me, and I refrain from adding that to the notes I'm taking for the next set of minutes.

Kristine clears her throat harshly, and I give a little jump. When I look at her, she narrows her eyes back at me. “First order of business,” she says curtly, “is the venue for prom.”

The motion to use the skating rink passes unanimously.

“With that out of the way, I'm going to adjourn the meeting,” Kristine says.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I close up my notebook. Typing up these minutes will be a snap. The short meeting gives me time to meet up with Zoe in the lunchroom so that I can quickly eat my sandwich and veggies.

“We'll use the time to break up into our individual committees to discuss plans. Food committee, back corner by the window. Decorating committee, opposite corner. Bobby, we'll just meet here.”

“We figured everything out Saturday night,” Bobby says. “I thought I could help out the food committee.”

“We have a few things to discuss,” Kristine says.

Bobby leans toward me, and his breath tickles my cheek as he says, “I have an idea for the food caterer. I'll text you later.”

I'm glad someone has an idea regarding food, because when I join my group, the guys on my committee are just exchanging video game strategies.

“Uh, excuse me.” My interruption causes them to stare at me like I've sprouted three heads. “Shouldn't we discuss food?”

“Hot dogs,” Brandon says.

“Really?”

“We don't care.” Alex's words confirm my suspicions. “Just do whatever you want.”

“But we're supposed to decide together.”

“We decided that whatever you want is what we want.” Brandon looks to the other two guys for confirmation. They nod.

“But I might not even be on the student council by the time prom gets here,” I remind them. “I'm only temporary.”

“I went to see Mandy yesterday,” Alex says. “I don't think she's coming back this year.”

What? Wait!
This was supposed to be for only a couple of weeks.

When the bell rings, I stop to have a word with Mr. Alto. “So how is Mandy doing?” I ask. “Any idea when she'll be back?”

“I don't know if she will be back before school's out—but if she does return, her mom wants her to take it easy. She's resigned from the student council.”

“So what does that mean? For me, specifically?”

He smiles as though he's about to tell me that I aced an exam. “It means you get to finish out her term.” He holds up the minutes. “These were excellent, by the way. I'm impressed, Charlotte.”

“Impressed enough to give me an A in the class?”

He chuckles. “Impressed enough to not give you a C.”

I'm still reeling when I walk out into the hallway. Zoe is waiting for me.

“Are you okay?” she asks as we head for our lockers. “You look like you're trying to process bad news.”

“I'm not getting off student council anytime soon.”

“Bummer.”

“No, that's just it. I'm not upset about it. That's what I'm trying to process. It's a little more fun than I thought it would be.” I've never had time to be this involved in any school club or organization. It's giving me the sort of high school experience that I envisioned when I decided to return to public school in the first place.

“Are you going to run for student council next year?” Zoe asks.

Am I? If I make the Olympic team this year, everyone will know who I am by then. I'd probably win—but it would be Charlie winning, not Charlotte. People would vote for me because of my gymnastics record, not my school record. On the other hand, that will be a part of my life that I can't escape. “I don't know.”

“If you run, I'll run.”

Smiling, I look at her. “Really?”

“Sure. We could take over.”

“It's not a dictatorship.” Which I would have never said before I attended a meeting.

“I know. I was just . . . Oh, looks like we'll have to discuss this later.” She's wearing a big smile. “Have fun.”

I don't know what she's talking about, until I near my locker and see Bobby standing there. “Hey,” I say to him.

“Hey. What did your committee decide about the food?”

“We didn't.” Then I remember what he said before we broke into our committees. “You said you had an idea?”

“My aunt has a catering business. She'll have some ideas. We could go talk with her, see what she suggests. I can't do it during the week because I have wrestling practice after school until seven, then there's homework, et cetera. So I was thinking Saturday evening.”

“We?” I ask.

“She'll give you a better deal if she thinks you're a friend of mine.”

I want to ask him if I am a friend of his. I have to be, if he's going to this much trouble for me. I'm a little surprised by how happy the thought makes me. “I hate to take up your time with this. You're not on the food committee.”

“I don't mind. I don't have any plans for Saturday.”

“Okay, then. That would be great.”

“I'll pick you up around four.”

“Would it be all right if I ask Zoe to go with us?” I need someone else's opinion about the food for prom, because it's too easy for me to say yes to things when Bobby grins at me.

“Sure. Michael can come too. The more the merrier.”

He says good-bye. I'm smiling as I open my locker and grab my lit book. I slam the door closed and nearly jump out of my skin because Zoe is right there, almost in my face.

“Did he ask you to prom?” she asks excitedly.

“No.” I'm not even going to go there, because as tempting as it is, it would be a bad idea on so many levels. “But we're going to check out some refreshment possibilities for prom. Would you and Michael want to come?”

She shakes her head. “Mom won't agree to a date.”

“It's not a date,” I remind her, grinning. “It's a food-scouting-for-prom expedition.”

A smile lights up her face, and her eyes glow. “Brilliant! She has to say yes to that.” She gives me a hug. “Thanks, Charlotte. You're the bestest friend ever!”

Watching her skip down the hallway, I can't help but think that the bestest friend ever wouldn't keep secrets from her.

My parents don't object to my going on a food scouting expedition with Bobby. They aren't hovering in the entryway when he arrives either. Although, Josh is there.

“Hey, man!” he says, going through some sort of strange ritual with Bobby that includes sliding palms and tapping knuckles.

“How's it going?” Bobby asks.

“Good. I finally asked Morgan Whitcomb to prom, and she said yes.”

“You're going to prom?” I ask, a bit dazed. I had no idea he was interested or that he even liked anyone.

“Yeah.”

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Of course they know. I need a tux. Don't look so shocked.”

“Sorry. I just didn't realize you were interested in prom.”

“I'm not. But I'm interested in Morgan.”

I've never met her, and he's never mentioned her before, but then, we don't typically share that sort of information.

Josh looks at Bobby. “Are you going to prom? I figured we could double.”

I shove on Josh's shoulder. “You can't just invite yourself along,” I point out. He and Bobby don't hang out together, and it makes me uncomfortable that Josh is using this opportunity to barge into Bobby's life.

“It doesn't hurt to ask,” Josh says.

I want to tell him that it makes him look desperate. He's acting toward Bobby just like I expect people to act toward me when my truth comes out.

Bobby's cheeks turn red, and he avoids looking at me. “I haven't decided,” he says quietly.

“But you're doing all this stuff to make prom happen,” Josh says.

“That's because we're on student council. And we need to get to it.”

We walk outside.

“Just let me know!” Josh calls out before closing the door.

“I can't believe my brother just invited himself to go to prom with you,” I say as we head for Bobby's car.