Much Ado About Something

by Michelle Ray

  “No, not picky at all,” he said sarcastically. “A girl like that should be a cinch to find.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and thought about it. I knew what he meant, but I didn’t get it. Why was that too much to ask? They seemed like basic qualities to me. And until I found them, I was fine not getting serious.

  Beatriz Garcia Rojas Sometimes enough is enough.

  Beatriz

  After cleaning up for Ben, I went to my locker and noticed I had a few minutes left of lunch. I knew I ought to swing by the yearbook room and see if there were any senior page submissions to deal with, but I was tired and annoyed and just wanted to find somewhere quiet to sit. I headed for my favorite spot on campus: a garden created to commemorate a student lost in a war decades before. It was creepy if you thought about why it was made, but otherwise it was peaceful. And peace was what I needed just then.

  I was trudging down a small set of steps, hoping I would hear the bell ring over the drip of the waterfall, when someone called, “B!” It was Maggie.

  I whirled around and snapped, “What do you want?”

  Maggie’s mouth froze in a shocked O. Even so, I couldn’t figure out how she could be surprised that I was this mad, given what had happened at the party.

  “I–I wanted—” Maggie spluttered.

  Somehow her pinking cheeks just annoyed me more. “Don’t apologize and don’t explain,” I said, yanking at the strap of my bag. “I get it, Maggie. A guy — the sidekick of a mean, small-minded, petty piece of crap — is interested in you and you’re willing to sacrifice your friendship over it. Fan-frickin’-tastic. I hope Bryce is really good to you and that you stay together forever, because if you don’t, who or what exactly are you going to have left?”

  I had practiced what I wanted to say over and over since Friday night and couldn’t believe I actually had the opportunity to say it. When does that ever happen? And yet, as soon as I saw her face, my pleasure dwindled. She went paler (if that was possible) and her eyes got all watery. Oh man. Her reaction made my stomach hurt.

  Before I could cave and I take it all back, I tossed my hair over my shoulders and moved as quickly as I could into the shadows of the garden, leaving Maggie to stand in stunned silence. The day sucked and it was only halfway through.

  Caitlin Vaill Student council — where grievances are aired.

  Ben

  Peter, Clay and I ran onto the field together after school, but before we could start practice, Coach told me I’d better go to the student council meeting before Mr. Werner, the faculty coordinator, impeached me.

  After Coach left, Peter said what I was thinking: “I bet B’s responsible for that. Mr. Werner’s too cool to care. B knows you hate going to meetings and missing practice, so it’s like two punishments in one.”

  I shrugged and shuffled off, totally pissed.

  Everyone was just settling in when I opened the door to Mr. Werner’s office. The other kids actually stopped what they were doing when they saw me. Like jaw–dropped-open, jab-your-buddy-in-the-ribs stopped. I waved and acted cool, which pretty much meant flashing my biggest smile, easing to an empty chair, and drawling, “So, what’d I miss?”

  Kids laughed with me, but everyone knew the victory was B’s. She didn’t even bother hiding her smug face. Fine. She won. But I would move the meeting along if I could so I might make it back in time for at least part of practice.

  Beatriz

  I couldn’t help but stare at Ben with amazed irritation. Within seconds, he had taken over the meeting. Mr. Werner was leaning back in his swivel chair half-listening and was, I realized, probably thinking about his family’s upcoming camping trip. I wanted Mr. Werner to stop Ben. To say, “B has been doing fine without you. Let her run things.” I guess my complaining about Ben’s not being at the meetings had led to this, but I had just wanted him, you know, removed from his position. That sounds terrible, but he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to do and there should be a consequence. And not one that caused me more aggravation.

  Ben had done nothing to help when we were redoing the lab earlier, and now, after ditching this group for weeks, he would get the credit for the work I had done. Again. It was so unfair! And after everything else I’d dealt with that day, I definitely wasn’t at my best.

  “Ben,” I finally said, more sharply than necessary, startling everyone including Mr. Werner, whose feet fell off of his desk. “If you’re making all these plans, does it mean you’ll to be here to execute them?”

  Ben twisted his mouth. “You’re usually the queen of executions.”

  I didn’t smile, though others snickered around us. Oh good. Not only was he “helping” by making more work for me, but he was also finding new ways to insult me. Benny, Benny, Ben. How did I hate you? Let me count the ways.

  I saw him swallow hard before saying, “Uh, I figure I’ll help get things going and then we’ll delegate.”

  I groaned. “Get things going” meant he was trying to still make part of practice that day, and “delegate” meant to me because the other members had to run everything past the presidents. And only one president would follow through. Yours truly.

  “Mr. Werner,” I practically shouted, despite my desire to stay cool, and the coffee in his ‘I Break for Moose’ mug sloshed over onto the carpet. He bent to blot it with a tissue, and though I should have helped, I was overcome with the need to plead my case instead. “I think anyone here today should commit to actually doing something.”

  Mr. Werner sighed and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. He wiped the side of his mug and tossed the tissue into the trash. The council awaited his answer with gleeful anticipation. It occurred to me that the group had been hoping Ben would show up at a meeting just to see what sparks would fly. Mr. Werner did not appear to share their sentiment. “B, I understand your concern. Mr. Richardson has been a less than active member of our little band of brothers—”

  “And sisters,” chimed in the Vaill twins, who were the 8th grade reps.

  “Yes, yes, ladies.” He waved his mug again and more coffee sloshed out.

  Ben opened his mouth to protest, but Mr. Werner stopped him as he leaned to blot again. “Ben, pick something you can fit into your schedule. And B, gentle down.”

  Gentle down? Gentle down? When did Ben’s lack of commitment morph into a character flaw of mine? I had every right not to gentle anywhere and —

  Mr. Werner picked up a copy of Camping Quarterly and added, “Listen, folks, I have about 200 science tests to grade when I get home tonight and I need a little mental vacation before the madness begins. Please be civil and let’s wrap this up. It’s a dance, not an invasion.”

  “What do you plan on doing?” Ben asked.

  Unable to hide my exhaustion at the thought, I said with a sigh, “Everything.”

  To my shock, Ben asked sweetly, “What can I help you with?”

  I fumbled a bit. “Uh, well, we’re among the only ones who can drive, so we can pick up decorations.”

  “It’s a date.”

  The underclassmen snickered again. “Great choice of words, Ben,” I thought, and grabbed the pad of paper out of his hands.

  “Well, Ben, we don’t have to do it for a while—”

  More snickering.

  “Honestly, people,” I snapped. They were so immature. Keeping this in mind, I chose my words carefully. “Ben, we can go in a few weeks.”

  He nodded solemnly and I stood to get a highlighter. I spotted Ben checking out my legs, and wished it wasn’t fashionable for girls to wear uniform skirts so short. I pulled at the hem, but was able to cover absolutely nothing. With as much authority as I could muster while feeling nearly naked, I said, “Okay everyone, what jobs are left to be done and what will our timeline be?”

  Peter Donato Can an old dog learn new tricks?

  Ben

  The meeting dragged on until the end of the after-school activity block, which meant I had missed the entire practice. Not even that glimpse
of B’s amazing thighs was enough to make it worthwhile. Even after I offered to help and tried to be nice, she still acted like I was being a jerk. How could she not tell the difference between sarcasm and a serious offer? Especially from me? There was no winning. Whatever. I wasn’t quitting as president. Student council would look good on my college applications and it was kind of fun to be in charge. When B let me.

  When the bell rang, I grabbed my backpack, hoping I could at least catch the guys and figure out where they were eating after practice. My mom hated that I went out for a meal before dinner, but it shouldn’t have been an issue. When wasn’t I starving by dinnertime even after a burger and fries, and how often was she around to feed me a real meal anyway?

  The locker room was empty and I assumed Coach had made the team go for a mile run through the hilly neighborhood and they would be back in a few minutes. I loosened my tie and pulled out my physics textbook, deciding to read ahead to see what the next day’s lesson was. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of B by not getting it. Again.

  Don’t comment. I admit it: I cared.

  My locker was tucked in a corner, and just as I settled down in the shadows, Peter and Clay came in. They didn’t notice me sitting there and headed straight for the showers, so I took advantage of the time to work.

  Someone flipped on the stereo and they guys started talking. I tried to tune it all out until I heard my name.

  “So Clay,” called out Peter, “What were you saying about Ben? That B is in love with him?”

  My textbook slipped between my legs, but I caught it before it hit the floor.

  Clay answered, “That’s what I heard. I never thought she would fall for any guy. Least of all Richardson. Again.”

  “I know,” said Peter. “Surprising. But I guess all that noise was to hide that she still has feelings for him.”

  I set the book down, ready to go ask them about it, but I was afraid they wouldn’t tell me. Instead I crept a little closer to keep listening.

  Clay said, “Keep it down. Hope told me in confidence.”

  My mouth dropped open. Hope? Did B tell her or was Hope guessing?

  I was about to move even closer when the showers were turned off. I scampered back to my side of the lockers and pressed myself against them, my breath short.

  “She’d kill me if she knew I told you, so don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Clay said, squishing across the painted concrete floor. “B says she loves Ben with a passion. It’s pretty surprising.”

  “‘With a passion?’ Passionately hateful, maybe. I don’t buy it,” Peter said.

  I heard them spinning their locks and clanging the doors open and literally covered my mouth with my hands to keep from shouting, “Are you kidding?”

  Clay said to Peter, “I don’t think she would say it if it wasn’t true. B’s a lot of things, but she’s not a liar.”

  “Have you noticed any signs of love?”

  “W-well . . .” Clay stammered.

  After a silence that was suspiciously long, I heard Peter start to cackle. “I just remembered something,” he said. “I was in class with B and I saw her doodling. And no joke, it was B + B with a heart around it.”

  The guys howled together, and Clay hooted, “No way!”

  Couldn’t’ve said it better myself.

  Finally, I heard Peter ask, “Dude, has B asked Ben how he feels?”

  Clay answered quickly. “No. She swears she never will and that’s what’s killing her. She said she keeps starting texts and emails to him, but then she trashes them.”

  Lockers clanged shut and I snuck closer.

  Clay explained, “Hope says just thinking about telling him makes B sick since she knows that he’d mock her if she told him — because she would mock him if the situation were reversed.”

  “Maybe someone else should tell him,” suggested Peter.

  “No,” insisted Clay. “We can’t do that to B.”

  I heard footsteps and ducked around the lockers just as Peter walked to the door and turned, waiting for Clay. “Yeah, I don’t want her to get hurt. She’s sweet, when she’s not mad about something. And she’s so smart. Except for being dumb enough to like Ben.”

  Ouch.

  Clay called out, “Love makes idiots out of all of us, man. I feel kind of sorry for her.”

  Peter leaned against the door handle. “I wish she were in love with me. I asked her out but she said no. I guess it was because of Ben. No other reason for it.”

  Out they went, the door clanging behind them.

  Wait. Peter asked B out? I wanted to punch him.

  I shoved my textbook in my backpack and opened the door slowly, trying not to let the latch clank. I listened but didn’t hear anything, so I peeked out. No one was there. I eased the door shut, but it betrayed me with a metallic snap at the last second. I heard some snickers, but then Peter said, “Uh . . . Ben’s great. B could do worse,” on the landing of the stairwell above.

  I crept closer, my back against the rail.

  Clay agreed. “He’s fun. And sometimes he’s witty.”

  Sometimes?

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t tell him about B’s feelings?” Peter asked.

  “No way. Let her get over it. I’m sure Hope will convince her that it’s a bad idea. I mean, he really hurt her before and it seems like opening that can of worms can’t do anyone any good.”

  Ouch again. Why was I so stupid when I was with Beatriz? And I had no idea my friends blamed me.

  I watched them go out and cross the field toward Hope. She was standing alone, clearly waiting for Clay. Pitiful. Clay slowed down for a second and smiled at her. Then he leaned close to whisper to her. She smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet, her perfect teeth flashing as she laced her fingers through his. I would have been nauseated if I wasn’t so preoccupied by what Peter and Clay had said.

  B liked me.

  B. Liked. Me.

  I sat down to think. Against the odds, after everything we’d been through, she still liked me.

  I knew it! No seriously. It had to be. All that venom was a cover for her liking me. What other explanation could there be?

  Peter and Clay said B would hide her feelings, that she was too proud and too hurt to let me know the truth. I whispered to myself, “Should I let her know that I like her, too?”

  Wait. I did?

  Maybe.

  Who was I kidding? I did. Absolutely. She pissed me off, for sure, but she was hot and brilliant and I liked her. Always had. I knew I could fix everything. B might try to convince herself it was a bad idea, but I knew I could change her mind. I was pretty persuasive when I wanted to be.

  I also knew my friends were gonna tease me for having been so down on love all this time. But I could take it.

  I rose with determination and decided to find B. To my surprise, when I looked out the window, I spotted her marching across the grass toward me like some nasty governess in an old movie. I studied her to see if the exaggerated annoyance might be an attempt to hide her feelings, but she seemed genuinely aggravated.

  “God, Ben,” she began when I met her outside. “I thought you’d never come out.”

  I said nothing and smiled. This seemed to catch her off guard, so I smiled bigger. This made her face squish up. And not in a pretty way.

  “Anyway,” she said, with traces of suspicion coating each word, “I just bumped into Hope, and she told me to tell you that they’re all going out for food.”

  She waited for an answer, but all I did was stand there with my mouth open. No joke. I couldn’t help myself. I was too busy staring at her gorgeous lips and thinking about kissing them. Damn.

  Bryce Krunk Something wicked this way comes.

  John Crotalus Oh, you see B, too?

  Beatriz

  So I came out of the meeting, still kind of annoyed, and met up with Hope. The second she spotted Clay, she got all gooey and literally forgot I was standing next to her. I was all for them getting toge
ther, but this didn’t bode well.

  He leaned in and whispered something that I couldn’t hear and she giggled. Looking at me weird, she said really sweetly, “B, can you, like, go in to Ben and tell him we’re going out to eat?”

  I leveled my gaze at her and said, “No.” Look, I wasn’t walking all that way even if she asked with her cute puppy-dog eyes.

  “Please?” she asked, stealing a glance at Clay and batting her lashes at me.

  Fine. She wanted a minute alone with him. I would be nice. Again.

  When I got to Ben, he had this dreamy, drooly look, and I wondered if he’d walked into the girls’ locker room by accident or something.

  He didn’t even answer when I spoke to him. Whatever. I turned away grumbling, “Why Hope couldn’t just tell you herself I have no idea.”

  “B,” Ben said, and I turned around. “Thank you so much for taking the trouble to tell me.”

  That was weird, right?

  I was sure that he wanted something, so I cocked my head and waited. He said nothing else, but smiled again. I loved that smile and felt a little kick in my stomach, but he was freaking me out. I squinted and said, “It wasn’t any more trouble for me to tell you than it was for you to thank me for saying it. If it had been a big deal, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “So you liked bringing me the message?”

  This made me wonder if making him come to the student council meeting was a mistake. He was probably pissed about how I acted and, from the look of things, he got a little nutty if he didn’t get to burn off some energy after school.

  “Sure,” I said, still a little thrown. “As much as I enjoy taking my cat to get de-clawed. See you later, Ben.”

  Ben

  She was just going to leave. I had to keep her a second longer so I could test Clay’s theory. “Hey,” I called after her, “you going to eat, too?”