Boy Trouble

by Sheryl Berk

Ms. Bates said she was happy, and that was all Emma ever wanted to accomplish—even if it meant destroying a dozen donuts in the process.

  After she knew that Jordie was no longer a threat, Izzy decided she simply would not worry about asking Elton to be her date for the dance. She would take her time and calm her nerves before she asked him. But Emma was anxious to get her other BFF set. She hated leaving loose ends untied! Mr. Goddard and Ms. Bates were paired up, and Marty and Harriet looked so happy feeding each other french fries at the cafeteria table. She wanted Izzy to have the same joy in her life. Even if Izzy could wait patiently, she couldn’t!

  “Aren’t they the cutest?” Emma asked, watching Marty wipe ketchup off Harriet’s cheek with a napkin. “#relationshipgoals.”

  “Yuck!” Izzy said, turning around to see what she was mooning over. “I hate mushy couples.”

  “Speaking of which . . .” Emma began, grateful her friend had brought up the topic. “How are we going to make Elton and you a couple?”

  “We are not going to do anything. I am going to ask him . . . when I’m good and ready. I know you like to help, Emma, but trust me, I’ve got this.”

  Emma frowned. Why did Izzy have to be so stubborn? Couldn’t she see Emma was on a roll? She had to convince her to take action before it was too late. What if Elton said yes to someone else?

  “You know, I heard Elton telling some boys by the water fountain he wasn’t going to the dance at all,” she casually told her friend.

  Izzy stopped sipping her container of chocolate milk. “He said that? Well, what does he know?”

  “He doesn’t know you’re planning on asking him—so we better get to it!” Emma prodded her.

  “Ugh, there goes that we again!”

  Emma opened her binder where she had scribbled down an entire page of notes titled “Operation Elton.” She took out a pen and highlighted a few key points and began reading them to Izzy. “I was thinking you should ask him in a sporty way—something that speaks to him and is also so you.”

  Izzy looked puzzled. “What do you want me to do? Put it up on the big scoreboard: ‘Elton, will you go with me?’”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Emma jotted some more notes in her book. “Maybe during one of his soccer games?”

  “No way,” Izzy said. “No one is allowed to touch the scoreboard, especially when there’s a game in play.”

  “Elton loves to win, doesn’t he?” Emma continued thinking out loud.

  “Well, of course. Every athlete wants to win,” Izzy said. “I hate it when I lose one of my gymnastic meets.”

  “Then that’s it! You let him win. Challenge him to a race and when he crosses the finish line first, Harriet and I will be there waiting for him, holding a poster that says, ‘How’s this for a winning idea: Go with Izzy to the dance!’”

  Izzy stared. “You mean you want me to not do my best in a competition? You want me to purposely lose?”

  Emma shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is!” Izzy insisted. “It’s not what athletes do.”

  “Well, could ya do it just this once? If it makes Elton say yes to going to the dance with you?”

  Izzy considered. “I dunno, Emma. It just doesn’t feel . . . right.”

  “That’s because you’re thinking it’s a real race. It’s not. It’s just part of the plan. And it’s a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. You just have to make Elton want to race you.”

  “Well, that’s easy,” Izzy assured her. “His ego is bigger than a soccer field.”

  Emma put an arm around Izzy. “I know you can do this, Iz. And don’t think of it as losing a competition. Think of it as winning a date!”

  “I guess,” Izzy said, still hesitant. “If you think it’ll work.”

  “Think?” Emma replied. “I know it will, one hundred percent!”

  Emma made sure she and Izzy waited for the same school bus as Elton after school. They stood right behind him in line, talking loudly, so he could hear every word they were saying. If his ego was as big as Izzy had said, he was going to jump right in with his opinion. . . .

  “I can’t believe how fast you ran the track in gym class, Iz,” Emma began their staged conversation. “I’d hate to challenge you to a race.”

  “I’d hate to challenge me, too,” Izzy boasted. “My feet were literally lightning! I’m sure I have the fastest track time in all of Austen Middle.”

  Elton turned around to interrupt. “The fastest time? Yeah, right. Just stick to your balance beam and somersaults, Iz. I’ve been running track since fifth grade, and no one comes close to my time.”

  The corners of Izzy’s mouth began to twitch. She hadn’t wanted to fake this race, but Elton was insulting her athletic ability—and no one did that without a fight. “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” she taunted him.

  “I mean, a gymnast isn’t a track-team captain,” Elton continued. “I’m sure you’re really fast and all, but not as fast as me.”

  “I can totally beat you in a race,” Izzy countered. “Without breaking a sweat. And the loser has to buy the winner a Super Quadruple Scooper Sundae at Freddy’s.”

  Elton’s mouth was practically watering. “Twice around the track. The slowest runner buys.” They shook hands on it.

  “So how about tomorrow? During recess?” Emma suggested. “I’m happy to be an impartial judge at the finish line.”

  Elton smiled. “This is too easy. I almost feel bad. But I’ll ask a friend to be a judge, too—just to make sure no one cheats.”

  Izzy pointed a finger in his face. “Hah, as if I’d ever cheat! I don’t need to. I’m going to leave you in my dust.”

  “Better start counting your piggy-bank money to pay for my sundae!” he fired back.

  “Don’t underestimate girl power,” Izzy countered.

  Emma noticed how their faces were only inches apart as they bantered back and forth. It was so romantic! And Izzy was right; Elton couldn’t resist a challenge. Wait till he crossed that finish line and saw what was waiting for him!

  Izzy wasn’t the slightest bit worried about the race—but Harriet was a nervous wreck!

  “Do you think I put enough glitter on the poster?” she asked her two friends, dragging it with her as they made their way onto the field. “Maybe I should have made the letters bigger?”

  “Trust me, they’re big enough,” Izzy assured her. “He’ll be able to read it from way back on the track.”

  “But we don’t want him to see it,” Emma reminded them. “Not till the moment he crosses the finish line. That’s when we do the big reveal.”

  “What do we say?” Harriet asked. “Congrats! You win a date with Izzy?”

  Emma giggled. “We hold up the sign and let him read it. Then, Izzy, you step forward and say, ‘Surprise!’”

  Izzy was too busy stretching to pay attention. “Remember,” Emma told her. “You start running fast, then slow down and let Elton get way out in front of you.”

  “Well, maybe not that far in front,” Izzy said. “I think a few feet is plenty. I don’t want this to go to his head.”

  Emma rested a hand on her shoulder. “Iz, we’re doing this for Elton, remember? He needs to be excited and happy that he won.”

  “Fine, fine,” Izzy agreed. “I’ll go slower . . . eventually. After I let him see how wrong he was.”

  “You could even trip—or bend down to tie your shoelace,” Emma suggested. “Anything that doesn’t look too obvious that you’re letting him go ahead of you.”

  “Gee, maybe I could kick my sneaker off and run back to get it?” Izzy said, becoming annoyed.

  “Ooh, that’s good,” Harriet said, approvingly. “Elton would never suspect that.”

  Just then, Elton strode onto the field—with Jax by his side.

  “Uh-oh,” Emma muttered under her breath. Things between them were definitely improving, but they hadn’t completely made up yet.

  “What’s he doing here?” Harriet asked.<
br />
  Looking at me with those deep blue eyes, Emma thought.

  “Hey,” Jax said simply, walking over to them. “Elton asked me to watch the race.”

  “To make sure no one cheats,” Elton said, pointing at Izzy.

  “How would I do that?” Izzy asked. “Put wheels on my sneakers?”

  “Ya never know,” Elton answered. “You girls are tricky.”

  She held up her foot. “See? Just an ordinary pair of Nikes.”

  “I’ll just stand back here.” Jax motioned to where Harriet was waiting with the poster behind her back.

  “No!” Emma said, worried he’d discover their plan and give it away. “Stand with me. Right here by my side.”

  She noticed that Jax blushed ever so slightly at her suggestion. “Oh, okay,” he said.

  “So you get a good view of the race,” Emma added—just in case he was getting any ideas that she had forgiven him. She didn’t mind feeling his arm brush against her, but she had to make sure everything went perfectly for Izzy and Elton.

  “You’ll go all the way down there and take your places at the starting line,” Emma explained to the runners as she pointed to the opposite side of the field. “Then I’ll blow the whistle and you’ll start running as fast as you can around the track.”

  “‘As fast as you can,’” Elton echoed her. “Got that, Izzy? Because it’s not gonna be as fast as me.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. She was used to opposing teams trying to psych her out before a competition. “Whatever you say. Lemme know if you want me to give you a five-minute head start—’cause you’ll need it.” Izzy marched toward the starting line. “I’m ready,” she said. Elton quickly stopped stretching and ran to catch up to her.

  “Those two,” Emma said, shaking her head. “They’re so cute.”

  “Cute?” Jax suddenly piped up. Oops, she had forgotten he was standing right there. “I think they hate each other.”

  “Hate each other? Can’t you see they’re meant for each other?” Emma protested. “Honestly, Jax, how can you not see it?”

  “It sounded like they were fighting to me.”

  “Well, sometimes couples fight. It doesn’t mean they hate each other,” Emma insisted.

  “Really? So if they fight, they actually like each other?” He winked.

  Ugh, Emma thought, why did he have to flirt with her?

  “Okay, they’re in their places,” she changed the subject abruptly. She waved down the field and held her whistle in the air.

  “Do you want a countdown or something?” Jax asked. “Like, on your mark, get set, go?”

  Emma hadn’t actually thought about that but it sounded like a good idea. “Sure. Go for it.”

  He cleared his voice. “On your mark!” he shouted as Izzy and Elton readied their stances. “Get set! GO!”

  Emma blew the whistle and watched as her BFF and Elton began to bolt around the track.

  “Wow, Izzy is pretty fast,” Jax noted. “She’s keeping up with Elton.”

  That’s what you think, Emma chuckled to herself.

  “They’re halfway around the first lap,” Jax commented. “And they’re neck and neck.”

  Come on, Iz, slow down, Emma silently willed her. Stumble, trip, fall . . . anything! Just let Elton take the lead. Instead, Izzy began to speed up even more.

  “She should join the Austen track team,” Jax said, amazed. “She’s really fast.”

  Emma glanced back over her shoulder at Harriet who looked as concerned as she was. She motioned for her to step forward to the finish line.

  “What do we do now?” Harriet whispered to her.

  “Pray,” Emma said.

  Thankfully, Jax was now coaching Elton to pick up the pace. “Come on, Elton! Take it home! You got this!”

  I hope he’s got this, Emma thought. If not, Izzy is going to be dateless for the dance!

  Jax continued jumping up and down and waving Elton toward the finish line. But his cheering only seemed to make Izzy more determined to outrun her opponent. She pushed herself even harder as she came around the track for the second time.

  “She isn’t slowing down,” Harriet said, tugging on Emma’s sleeve. “What if she wins?”

  Emma hadn’t considered that possibility. She had gone over the plan with Izzy a dozen times and she knew what she had to do. But, when her friend got into competitive mode, there was nothing—and no one—that could stop her.

  As Emma watched, Izzy pulled in front of Elton and headed for the homestretch.

  “I don’t believe this!” Jax exclaimed.

  “Neither do I,” Emma said, shaking her head.

  As Izzy made her way toward the finish line, Elton was at least a full ten feet behind her. She crossed the line, waving her hands in the air.

  “I won! I did it! I beat the fastest boy on the track team!” she shouted. “I am the champion!”

  Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Iz? Could you not pay attention to any part of the plan?”

  Jax raised an eyebrow. “Plan? What plan?” Just then Elton crossed the finish line, huffing and puffing.

  “I won! I won!” Izzy bragged.

  Emma elbowed Izzy sharply in the ribs. “Izzy, you are killing any chance of this working.”

  “Wait, what is supposed to be working?” Jax repeated himself. “And what is this plan?”

  Emma gave Harriet a little shove. “Show Elton the poster.”

  “I can’t,” Harriet said, keeping it hidden behind her back. “It says, ‘How’s this for a winning idea?’ and he clearly lost.”

  “Oh, gimme that,” Izzy said, grabbing the poster out of her hands. She held it up. “Elton, do you wanna go to the dance with me or not?”

  Elton was still trying to catch his breath—so Jax spoke for him. “Hold on a second: Izzy was supposed to lose? That was your plan? To throw the race?”

  Emma shuffled her feet on the track. “Kinda. Maybe.”

  “But why?” Jax was absolutely outraged. “Why would you ever tell Izzy to do that?”

  “So Elton would like her and say yes,” Harriet tried to explain.

  Elton held up his hand. “Can I say something?”

  “Please,” Emma replied. “Anything.” She was getting tired of Jax scolding her.

  “Yes. I say yes.” Elton took Izzy’s hand.

  For the first time Emma could remember, she saw Izzy blush. “Really? You’ll go to the dance with me? Even after I kicked your butt?”

  “Of course! You’re competitive and never pull your punches. You drive me crazy, and that’s what I love about you. I haven’t had to run that hard all year. I liked it. But I have one condition.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?” Izzy smirked.

  “In the tradition of Sadie Hawkins, you pay for the sundaes.”

  Izzy handed off the poster to Harriet with her free hand. “Deal,” she said, hugging Elton. They walked off the field together, talking and laughing.

  “Wow,” Emma said, breathing a sigh of relief. “That went surprisingly well. Chalk up another couple going happily ever after to the Sadie Hawkins Dance.”

  “Emma, sometimes you go too far,” Jax corrected her. “Izzy didn’t need some crazy scheme to get Elton to say yes. She could have just asked him.”

  “But I used all this glitter,” Harriet said, looking down at her sign. “It would have gone to waste.”

  “I’m just saying that sometimes you think too much, Emma, and you get carried away. Izzy didn’t have to throw the race to get Elton to go with her. She just needed to be herself.”

  Emma considered what he was saying: It was her BFF’s competitive spirit and drive that made her so special. And Izzy had handled the situation just fine on her own; maybe she didn’t need to scheme after all? Maybe Jax was right?

  “So you think I’m a horrible person?” she asked him. “For telling Izzy to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.”

  Jax looked deep into her eyes. “No, I know you mean w
ell, Emma. But sometimes you make things more complicated than they need to be. You know?”

  Know what? Was he hinting that she should just ask him to the Sadie Hawkins Dance, right then and there? Was he trying to tell her he would say yes?

  “We’re gonna be late for next period,” Harriet said, tugging on her sleeve. “Let’s go, Em.”

  Emma jogged along with Harriet, leaving Jax trailing behind them. Still, she couldn’t help thinking about what he had just told her. Was all her plotting really unnecessary? Did she go too far? Then she remembered: Thanks to her advice, everyone was coupling up!

  Everyone, except her and Jax . . .

  That night, Emma had a dream: In it, she was climbing to the top of the Washington Monument, trying to reach Jax, who was seated at the tippy top, hovering above it on a cloud. Winston was holding a rope and pulling her up slowly on the Peter Pan harness.

  “You’ll never make it,” Jax taunted her from his seat. “You always get carried away and make things more complicated than they need to be, Emma.”

  Emma ignored him and continued scaling the monument, trying not to look down at the ground disappearing beneath her. Just as she got a few inches from Jax, Winston lost his grip and the rope slipped. He tried his best but couldn’t stop it. She felt herself tumbling down, down, down. . . .

  “Help! I’m falling!” she screamed.

  She suddenly felt her mom gently shaking her awake. “Emma, honey, it was just a bad dream. You’re okay.”

  “But it seemed so real,” Emma said, blinking her eyes open.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” her mom asked, tenderly stroking her hair and wiping away her tears.

  “Mom, how did you get Dad to date you?”

  Her mother hesitated, slightly embarrassed by the question. “Emma, it was more than twenty years ago.”

  “Please, Mom!”

  Mrs. Woods sat down on the edge of the bed. “Actually, he asked me out. I never thought I would be interested in dating a premed student—they all seemed so serious. But he changed my mind.”

  “So what did he do to convince you?”

  Her mom thought for a moment. “It’s not really what he did, but how he did it. He was very persistent.”