by Denise Vega
I pulled my Nano out of my pocket and popped the earbuds in my ears. That way I could look like I was here without knowing they were. I’m so brilliant.
“Hey, Erin,” Jeff said, smiling as he entered the kitchen.
“Hey!” I hoped I sounded surprised to see him. “Where’s Chris?”
“Bathroom,” he said. He walked closer to me. He was so close I could see the dark stubble on his chin, could smell sweat and the sweet scent of detergent wafting up from his body.
“What are you listening to?” He tugged at my headphone wire.
I blinked, pulling out my right earbud. Cleaning it off, I handed it to him and he stuck it in his ear, nodding his head to the beat. I nodded along with him. We were sharing the same musical experience, our ears connected by a thin wire running between us. Electricity shot through me.
“Very cool,” Jeff said. “Mind if I check out your playlist?”
“Sure.” I pulled the Nano out of my pocket, then cleaned off the left earbud and handed them over. He listened for several minutes, walking around the kitchen, flipping to different songs. Then he gave it back.
“Very nice, Erin Swift. Thanks.”
“Anytime,” I said, surprised at how comfortable I felt. I wasn’t stuttering or flipping out or worried about what to say.
“So, what do you know about Winter Park?” Jeff asked.
“It rocks,” I said. “It has lots of different runs for different levels. So does the other mountain—Mary Jane—but Mary Jane also has a lot of extreme black runs. For the crazy people.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ll be doing any of those. I’m going up with a bunch of people on the Winter Park ski train,” he said. “I’ll need to find someone to ski the baby hills with me.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I’m going on the ski train, too,” I said. “February fourteenth.”
“No kidding?” Jeff said. “That’s when we’re going.”
Oh. My. God. The ski train with Jeff Massey on Valentine’s Day.
“Cool,” I said weakly. “Maybe I’ll see you.”
“Maybe you can tell me which runs won’t make me look like a fool,” Jeff said as Chris came in. “We don’t exactly have real mountains where I come from.”
I’d rather show you. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“You probably tear up the mountain,” Jeff said as Chris handed him a Coke.
“Chris is a much better skier than I am,” I said. “But I like it.”
“She’s a good skier.” Chris rubbed my head.
“Stop,” I said, ducking away. What was I, three years old? Sheesh. “Gotta go,” I said, remembering Jilly’s advice about leaving first.
“Hey, Erin.”
I turned at his voice. He stepped toward me so we were just inches from each other, then tapped me on the nose. “See you around.”
Wednesday, January 7
I’m never washing my nose again.
HOT— —METER
#1 Jeff Massey
#2 Jeff Massey
#3 Jeff Massey
#4 Jeff Massey
#5 Jeff Massey
#6 Jeff Massey
#7 Jeff Massey
#8 Jeff Massey
#9 Jeff Massey
#10 Jeff Massey
CHAPTER 32
INTERPERSONAL INTRIGUE
JILLY DIDN’T WANT TO GO to a Wash High basketball game when I asked—okay begged—her to go with me. It had been over a week since I’d seen Jeff and the nose touch had just about worn off. Rosie was going to the game but I also needed a best friend boy expert to back me up. I knew Jilly was worried about seeing Bus Boy, who would probably be there. She was now trying to get over him, rather than get him back.
“Aren’t you worried that Blake might be there?” she asked.
“Who cares?” I said. I had Jeff Massey. “You know, this is your chance to show Bus Boy you aren’t sitting around crying about him.”
“True.” Jilly furrowed her brow, considering. “Okay, I’ll go. But if this turns into a disaster, you’ll pay big time.”
We ended up sitting way up high, away from my mom and dad, who were chatting it up with some of the other parents. Jilly spent most of her time updating me on the fact that she didn’t see Blake anywhere and pretending she wasn’t scanning the crowd for Bus Boy.
“I guess I should be glad he isn’t here,” she said. “But I feel like torturing myself so I wish he was.”
Rosie patted her knee, then looked at the court. “That’s Eddie Abeyta,” she said, pointing to one of the shorter guys on the opposing team. “He’s wicked fast and an incredible ball handler. They’re going to need to watch him.”
I smiled. I could always count on Rosie to talk about other things besides boys. I turned my attention to the court and soon was caught up in the pregame action, especially when Jeff appeared.
The team was running layup drills and Jeff was making his easily. I loved the fluid way he sprinted to the basket, all one movement, as if the basketball was a part of his body until he released it, letting it bounce off the backboard and drop through the basket. He was even more exciting to watch when the game started, and I found myself moving back and forth between admiring how he played and just admiring him.
At halftime, we headed for the snack bar. Juggling our food in our hands, we wove through the crowd. As we got near the door of the gym, Jilly froze and grabbed my arm. Blake was walking toward us with his arm around some girl. His face registered surprise when he saw me. Then he looked pleased with himself.
“Hey, Blake,” I said, playing it cool. Inside my stomach did a little dance.
“You know her?” the girl asked him.
“Not really,” Blake said as he steered her to the snack bar line. He looked over her shoulder to sneer at me. I just shook my head.
“Oh, puh-leez,” Jilly said as we stepped back inside the gym. “He’s so not over you.”
“Not even close,” Rosie said.
“You’re saying that?” I asked Rosie, surprised. I didn’t think she noticed things like that.
“I’m not blind,” she said, shrugging.
When we got back to the bleachers, I scanned the bench. Jeff was looking right at me, grinning and toasting me with his water bottle. He waved and I waved back. Then he elbowed Chris, who turned around and shook his head at me.
“He waved at you!” Jilly squealed. “In front of everyone.”
I just sat there, grinning like a fool.
Washington won in overtime so the crowd was pretty pumped after the game. Rosie had seen a friend and went to talk to her. Jilly and I hung out near the bench looking for people we knew. I had tried to get Reede’s attention after the game but she was taking the long way around from the top bleachers and didn’t see me.
“Have you seen Jon?” Jilly asked for the tenth time. “I haven’t seen him and I’m glad.”
“You’re miserable,” I said. “And you’ll be even more miserable if you see him.”
Just then the team trickled out of the locker room. Jeff sauntered out, freshly showered, hair slightly damp against his skin. He was surrounded by people—mostly girls but some boys.
I turned away so he wouldn’t see me staring.
“This is crazy,” I said. “What am I doing?”
“Just have fun with it.”
“Says the girl who is suffering from the effects of having fun,” I said to Jilly.
“I plan to have fun again,” she said. “It’ll just take time.” She squinted across the gym in Jeff’s direction. “He’s walking toward us,” she said, smiling as if she was saying something completely different. “Okay, now he stopped to talk to some girl. Uh oh. I think she might—she might—no, it’s friend only.”
“He’s coming around the bend,” I said, “along the fence, leading by a length—” I spoke in a fake announcer voice, and we both started laughing.
“He’s—he’s—” Jilly gasped but she was still laughing too much
to get the words out.
“Must be a great joke.” Jeff Massey stood behind us, smiling that lopsided smile.
You mean nothing to me, my brain said, while my heart did the thumpity-thump.
He put one arm around me and one around Jilly. “Thanks for coming to the game, girls.”
I feel nothing—except the solid weight of his arm on my shoulders, the closeness of his face to my own, the warmth of his body against my side.
I swallowed hard. “It was really exciting,” I said with a squeak. “You did great.”
Jeff laughed, squeezing my shoulder before letting go. “I can get around the defense when I need to.” His friends chuckled. “I understand you’re a pretty decent player, Swift the Younger. Maybe you can teach me some of your moves.” He faked a pass to me and I pretended to catch it before the crowd sucked him into their midst and he was gone.
“He was so flirting with you,” Jilly said. “That whole ‘moves’ thing. He likes you.”
“He does not,” I said. “He’s just a big flirt.” But I loved that he was flirting with me. I sighed. “We’d better go find my parents.”
As we turned toward the bleachers, I nearly collided with someone.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, then nearly had a heart attack as I looked into a familiar face. “Sacks! Hey!”
Mark glanced at me before looking past me at the crowd leaving the gym. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”
“Just a friend of Chris’s,” I said.
Jilly looked over my shoulder and her eyes got wide. “He’s here.”
I glanced back. Bus Boy stood near the opposite set of bleachers, talking to some guys.
“Don’t go, Jilly,” I said. “Stay here.” I hoped it sounded like I was trying to help her get over Bus Boy, to be strong. But I was really saying: Please don’t leave me alone with Mark.
“I just want to say hi,” she said. “That’s all. Show him I’m mature and handling things, just like you said.”
“Jilly.”
She squeezed my arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Traitor.
I shifted uncomfortably next to Mark. “So, what a nail biter, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Standiford made that three-pointer to tie. That was awesome.”
I relaxed as we talked about the game, the best plays, who was on or off their game. By the time Jilly came back, we were laughing about last year at MBMS when I tripped in a game, fell flat on my face, and Steve got a picture of it and put it on the MBMS Intranet.
Jilly didn’t look so happy, though.
“So?” I asked.
“So he was happy to see me but he was in total friend mode. No BF vibe at all.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is he walking out with anyone?”
I glanced over her shoulder. “He’s with a bunch of people.”
“Boys and girls?”
“Yeah.”
“But not any one girl,” said another voice.
I whipped my head around. Reede stood behind us, sipping a Coke.
I furrowed my brow. “How can you tell?”
“Just the way he’s walking and talking. See the distance between him and that blonde girl? And how she’s holding her purse in the hand that’s closest to him? She doesn’t want him to touch her.”
“Interesting,” Mark said.
Something about his tone made me look at him. Reede seemed about to say something when her eyes widened. “Uh oh. Here comes the ’rent who doesn’t approve of me. Later.”
I looked up to see my mom walking towards us.
“Mark! It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Mrs. Swift.”
“What a game,” my dad said to Mark. “That three-pointer was amazing.” He and Mark talked for a few minutes while Jilly and I exchanged looks.
“Um, Dad?” I asked. “Jilly has to get home to help her mom.”
“Oh, right,” my dad said. “Good talking to you, Mark.”
“You, too, Mr. Swift.” But Mark was looking at me. I dropped my eyes and he turned and walked away, shoulders scrunched, his pants dragging the floor.
“Okay,” Jilly said, grabbing my arm. “That was a little too much excitement for one night.”
My dad looked at us but didn’t say anything. I had a feeling he and my mom both knew Jilly wasn’t just talking about the game.
Friday, January 16
THINGS THAT STINK
Reede thinks my mom doesn’t like her.
I don’t think my mom likes her.
I’m still madly in love w/ JM.
I think Mark knows I like JM.
HOT——METER
#1 Jeff Massey
#2 Jeff Massey
#3 Jeff Massey
#4 Jeff Massey
#5 Jeff Massey
#6 Jeff Massey
#7 Jeff Massey
#8 Jeff Massey
#9 Jeff Massey
#10 Jeff Massey
THINGS THAT ROCK
I’m still madly in love w/ JM! Why should I try 2 stop? I should enjoy it, like J said.
Only 1 more month till ski train—Jeff will be on the same ski train—it’s fate.
Jeff put his arm around me @ the game. Sure he put the other 1 around Jilly but he kept mine on longer & looked @ me more.
All of us r going 2 a movie this weekend—except Jilly & Reede… Jilly had something w/ her sis & I think Reede didn’t want 2 be seen w/ a bunch of 8th graders. Sometimes she’s really weird. I mean, SHE’S in 8th grade. Just cuz she acts older & hangs out w/ older people—why can’t she hang w/ us 2?
Whatever. It’ll be fun, but I wish I was going w/ JM—alone.
CHAPTER 33
BLIND DATE
THE THEATER WAS ABOUT HALF-FULL when we got there. We picked a row in the middle and settled in with our snacks—Rosie, me, Mark, Steve, Carla, and Tyler. Mark passed a huge tub of popcorn back and forth and then the previews came on. I settled back to watch. A few seconds into the third trailer, Rosie tapped my arm.
“Ex. Two rows back.” She jerked her head over her shoulder.
I looked. Kara sat with two of her friends, laughing as she watched the previews. I raised my eyebrows at Rosie. Since when was she the relationship drama police?
She shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”
I sighed. They were totally going to think I was on a date with Mark, even with our big group. Maybe I should try to switch seats with Rosie. But that might call attention to us. Better to play it cool, I thought, as I sank low in my seat.
“What are you doing?” Mark asked.
“Just trying to get comfortable.” I scooted my butt back and forth to prove my point.
During the movie, my elbow sometimes touched Mark’s as one of us reached for the Coke we were sharing, but I got away quickly and all was well.
I started imagining touching elbows with Jeff Massey, or feeling that hard bicep pressed against my arm. He’d smile over at me in the dark, lean in, and kiss me. He might drop his arm around my shoulders like he did at the game. Or maybe he’d reach out and take my hand in his, squeezing gently, neither of us sweating because we were so comfortable with each other.
My hand.
Someone was touching it.
No, someone was holding it.
I glanced down. Mark’s hand covered mine. It couldn’t be an accident because my hand was on my knee, nowhere near the Coke cup. He squeezed my hand and held on. I glanced at Rosie, but she was into the movie.
Mark Sacks was holding my hand. How many nights last year did I imagine a scene just like this one? And now it was here and all I could do was feel uncomfortable and wish it was Jeff’s hand. I didn’t want to hurt Mark’s feelings but I didn’t want to hold his hand either. I decided to tie my shoe, even though it didn’t need tying. I pulled my hand out from under his and leaned down. When I sat up, Mark had settled back, his elbows on the armrests.
I scootched my elbow behind his
. “No hogging the armrest,” I whispered into his ear.
He turned so his face was millimeters from mine. “Okay.” His soft buttery popcorn breath warmed my nose. Oh, no. He was going to kiss me. Mark Sacks was going to kiss me and half the school would see and why wasn’t he Jeff Massey?
I leaned down for a sip of Coke and his lips brushed the side of my head. He let out an impatient sigh and sat back hard in his seat.
We watched the rest of the movie without any whispers and I could tell Mark was trying not to touch me. He even stopped drinking the Coke, just sat with his arms over his chest.
When the movie was over, we all went to the bathroom, then waited in the lobby for Tyler to get a popcorn refill “for the road.”
Rosie shook her head. “Where does he put it all?”
“Bottomless pit,” I said, smiling as I tried to catch Mark’s eye. But he was busy talking to Carla, who seemed completely enthralled with him, even though Steve was at her elbow, staring at her. Then Carla said, “Uh oh,” and we all turned to look.
Kara and her friends stood in the lobby, watching us. Kara flipped her hair over her shoulder and strode toward the main doors, her friends hurrying to keep up.
“You need a ride?” Mark asked Carla.
“My mom could take you,” Steve chimed in.
“Um, no, I’m okay.” Carla seemed flustered by all the attention. Her eyes flicked to me before she dropped them to the ground.
“Okay,” Mark said. “See ya.” And he left the theater.
Tyler stepped up then, tossing back a handful of popcorn. “So, did I miss anything?”
All three of us looked at him.
“Okaaayy,” he said slowly. “I think I’ll wait outside with Sacks.”
When I got home I hopped on the Internet. My Buddy List showed Mark online.
Webqueen429: Sacks, you there?
The cursor blinked at me accusingly.
I watched his status. A second later, it changed from Online to Away.
Sighing, I closed the program and went up to my room.
Saturday, January 17