by Denise Vega
“Thanks for the adventure, Erin Swift,” he said.
“It was a blast,” I said. “Sorry again about the tickets.”
“No worries,” he said, squeezing my knee. He left his hand there, sending electricity up my thigh. He held my eyes for a moment and I saw—what?—something that made me shiver. I smiled.
“So, yeah,” he said, patting my knee once before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Maybe we’ll do it again sometime. Tell your bro I’ll catch him later.”
“Right,” I said, hardly able to contain myself. He totally wanted to kiss me. I could tell. I wasn’t sure what stopped him—my age, the fact that he was friends with my brother, or something else—but, for that moment, he had wanted to.
That’s all I needed to know.
Thursday, January 22
ONE THING I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH
In btween being a total butthead, Mark admitted he was jealous of Jeff.
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 SEND ME OFF THE PLANET
JM totally wanted 2 kiss me yesterday!!!!! I KNOW he did. Next time we’re together, he WILL… or maybe I’ll kiss him. Wahoo! Maybe on the ski train, in front of Mark & every1.
Chris heard abt my “spin” in Massey’s new ’stang… couldn’t believe I got 2 ride in it b4 he did… that we rode w/ the top down. Wicked, he said.
Chris didn’t say anything abt the tix, which means Jeff didn’t tell him. How cool is that? Most guys would totally brag abt speeding & getting pulled over but Jeff didn’t.
I rode in a hot sports car w/ Jeff Massey w/out wearing a seatbelt, got stopped by cops, & got away w/ it. We share a secret. It will bind us together 4ever.
Jilly squealed @ all the right places when I told her… she called me Wild Girl.
Reede went crazy when I told her… told me I was smokin’.
THINGS THAT ARE KIND OF ANNOYING BUT NOT ENOUGH TO BRING ME BACK TO EARTH
Mom was pretty cool when I got home but freaked abt the top being down on Jeff’s car. Like I might get pneumonia or something from the cold air.
Mom asked if I had a crush on JM. That makes it sound SO middle school. I’m in LOVE. But I didn’t tell her that. I told her we were just friends… she said good cuz he’s a lot older & she didn’t want me 2 get hurt & btw, don’t 4get u can’t date till u r a lot older & not guys who r almost 3 years older than u. I KNOW. She gave me this lecture w/ Blake… blah, blah, blah.
And what’s w/ this getting hurt thing? R she & Mark in on this 2gether? They both need 2 stay out of my biz!
Mom also pulled some twisted adult psychology: “That’s my smart girl. I never have to worry about you.”
Ugh. Why did that feel like a bad thing?
Probably cuz I’m wild. I’m smokin’. I SO rock.
CHAPTER 36
SLOPELESS IN DENVER
FEBRUARY WAS MBMS EIGHTH GRADE girls’ basketball. We practiced once a week and had a game once a week so I had to fit it in around I-Club. It wasn’t Jamball or Gold Crown but it was still fun. We had some decent players and won our first game easily. Our second game was on a Wednesday at home so a lot of people stayed after school to watch and hang out.
When the game was over—we won—and we’d showered and changed, I headed back into the gym. Mark was talking to Carla near the water fountain, which I had to pass to get to my parents. My shoulders tensed. Would he say something mean? Would I? How did it come to this?
As I got nearer, Mark glanced up. Our eyes met briefly before he stepped closer to Carla to let me pass, even though there was a good five to six feet between us. Hello?
Mark turned his back. “So, do you think you can?” he asked Carla.
“I don’t know.” She glanced at me. “Hi, Erin.”
“Hey, Carla.”
Mark reached out and squeezed Carla’s arm. “Let me know, okay?”
Carla looked flustered. “Yeah, okay.”
He walked away without even a backward glance at me. Carla and I stood awkwardly for a few moments.
“So, good game,” Carla said.
“Thanks.” I could tell something was on her mind so I stayed where I was.
Finally she cleared her throat. “Look,” she said, “Mark just asked me to play basketball with him Friday after school. I know you two aren’t going out or anything but I don’t know. I feel like I need to ask you if it’s okay.”
I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. Mark was shooting hoops with someone besides me? And someone who didn’t even know how to play? He hated playing with newbies. Did he like Carla now? Or was he just trying to make me jealous? And why was I even asking these questions? Jeff Massey and I bonded over a speeding ticket and he almost kissed me. I didn’t have time for this middle school drama.
“You don’t need my permission,” I said, the MES (Mature Erin Smile) coming easily. “Have fun.”
The Saturday of the ski train, I woke up with my throat so swollen I could barely swallow. My head and nose felt like someone had stuffed them with cotton before shoving my head into a trash compactor.
“I’m sick,” I whispered hoarsely into the phone when I called Jilly. “I can’t go.” I was crying, too, which only made the stuffiness worse. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t going to be on that train. I’d gotten online and researched Jeff’s car and was all ready to talk to him about it. And I was seriously thinking about kissing him. I had planned to just ignore Mark and have fun.
“But you have to go,” Jilly wailed. “Who’s going to sit with me?”
“Sit with Mark,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be glad I’m not going.”
“Oh, Erin, I can’t believe it,” she said. “Do you think it had something to do with driving eighty miles an hour with the top down in that convertible?”
“No,” I said. “But my mom sure thought so.” When she came to check on me this morning, she shook her head. “I can’t believe he was so irresponsible. What was he thinking? It was freezing out.”
“Mom, three people in my homeroom were out sick last week with this same flu. I’m sure it wasn’t the car.”
“I’ll report in as soon as I can,” Jilly said before we hung up.
My mom got me some orange juice and vitamin C and put me back to bed. I was able to sleep most of the day, but fitfully. One minute I was hot, tossing my covers off, the next I was shivering as if I sat in a tub of ice cubes.
Chris avoided me all day. “I don’t want to catch what you’ve got,” he said. “I’ve got too much going on.”
I slept, watched TV, read, and listened to Jilly’s messages, which didn’t say much except “having fun, but we miss you” because she knew my mom might listen to them first.
I imagined Jeff on the train and on the slopes, heartbroken without me, barely able to have a good time knowing I was practically on my deathbed because of course he knew about my illness with our amazing psychic connection. Maybe he had stayed in the lodge all day worrying about me, ignoring any girls who might be around, waiting until he could check in on me because he didn’t get cell service on the mountain and—
“Erin?” Chris knocked on the door later that night. “You alive?”
I burrowed deeper under my covers. “Barely.”
“Jeff’s on my cell,” Chris said, raising an eyebrow in. “He wants to talk to you.”
Omigod. He was really calling. But how was I going to talk to him? I sounded like I had beans up my nose.
“Erin? Do you want to talk to him or not?”
I held out my hand for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Erin? Jeff.” Oh, that voice. “Missed you on the train. Your cute little friend from the m
all told me you were sick.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It stinks.” It came out more like “it thinks” which made me feel stupid. And how cute did he think Jilly was? Cute enough to take for a ride in his Mustang? Now that she and Bus Boy had broken up, she was fair game.
“And,” Jeff said, interrupting my panic attack, “I thought you’d like to know that I was able to lower my fines and drop the points for the tickets.”
Our secret. “So you charmed them,” I said. “I’m not surprised.”
“Yeah, well.”
He paused and I could sense he was going to hang up. Quick, Erin. Come up with something.
“Um, so I meant to ask you if your Mustang is a GT? I can’t remember.”
“Yeah, it is.” His voice perked up. “That’s cool that you asked.” He started explaining some of the features under the hood. I remembered a few from my research but others were a complete mystery. I listened to his voice, smiling contentedly. “… so I went with the V-8.”
“That’s great, Jeff. Wow.”
“Well, I hope you feel better,” he said. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll hit the slopes together sometime.”
“That would be great.” It would be beyond great. It would be stupendifabulous.
“Okay, can you put your bro on now?” Jeff asked. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Sunday, February 15
THINGS THAT ROCK BEYOND ALL ROCKING
I may have a ski date w/ Jeff Massey. Okay, we didn’t talk abt an actual date but maybe we’ll hit the slopes 2gether like he said. Man… riding the lift together… skiing thru trees… maybe getting “lost.” Oh, yeah.
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
Jilly called & told me every1 missed me on the ski train—except Mark I’m sure—he still h8s me… J said MS started out skiing w/ Steve & Tyler but then went off w/ Rosie & Carla cuz they were better skiers… Jilly was stuck w/ Steve… said he made her laugh a lot & she had fun but being w/ Steve made her miss Bus Boy.
J said she saw JM in another train car & he was w/ a ton of people, lots of girls but not 2 worry… said none looked like a gf. He said hi 2 her & asked where I was & then—as we know—he CALLED ME.
Erin P. Massey…
CHAPTER 37
UPSIDE DOWN
THE OFFICIAL MOLLY BROWN MIDDLE School website launched without a hitch on Tuesday, February 24. Well, no hitches except the pictures Steve posted of Carla in her Thanksgiving play costume, spitting out something all over the floor. You wouldn’t have known it was her if you hadn’t seen the play but pretty much everyone at school had so they all knew.
“That wasn’t supposed to go live,” Steve said when Carla came storming into the computer lab after school. “I was just showing it to a few people.”
“Steven.” Ms. Moreno sighed. “Didn’t you learn anything from your mistakes last year?”
“I—I—”
“You gave me that unsweetened chocolate after the play on purpose,” Carla said, poking her pen at his chest, backing him up against the wall.
“I didn’t know it was unsweetened,” Steve said, holding up his arms to ward off another poke. “It was an accident.”
“Like it was an accident that you had your camera right there, ready to take a picture of me gagging and spitting?”
Steve looked guilty. “But you’re so cute when you’re spitting.”
Carla’s face registered surprise—and maybe a little pleasure—before she got back to business. “Nice try, Anderson, but you’re dead meat. Erin’s going to help me get back at you when you least expect it.” She turned to me. “Right, Erin?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“I don’t want any flame wars,” Ms. Moreno said. “You people settle this thing in a mature fashion—offline.”
“How about Sumo wrestling?” Tyler said and everyone laughed, easing the tension.
Steve glanced at Mark. “A little help?”
“You dug yourself into this one, dude,” Mark said.
“But you’re not going to let Swift get back at me, are you?”
“Swift does what she wants,” Mark said, turning away to close down his computer.
“So, I heard about a raging party on the 12th.” Reede and I were at our locker Friday morning. “We are totally going.”
I wrinkled my nose. I had never been to a party that I could have called “raging.” It sounded a little out of my league. Reede shoved me with her shoulder, smiling mischievously.
“Your joyriding buddy is going to be there.”
“Jeff? Jeff’s going to the party?” My heart skipped a beat. “How do you know?”
“I have my sources,” Reede said, looking mysterious. She squinted, thinking. “I guess you’ll need a cover since your parents are… you know.”
I frowned. Of course she wouldn’t need a cover. Her parents were totally cool.
“A sleepover or something,” Reede continued. “Parties like this don’t start until late.”
“Parties like what?” Jilly had come up, with Rosie close behind.
“High school parties,” Reede said.
Jilly stared at me. “No way are you going to a high school party.”
“Why not?” I asked, suddenly determined to go.
“Well, you’re—you know—not really—”
“It’s not something you would do,” Rosie finished. “You’d have to lie to your parents.”
“I’ve lied to my parents before,” I said, sounding braver than I felt. “Besides, I’m so sick of not getting to do things.” I turned to Reede. “I’m totally going.”
“That’s my girl,” Reede said, throwing her arm around me. “Who else is in?” she asked, looking at Jilly and Rosie.
“Not me,” Rosie said. She looked me in the eye, shaking her head slightly. I felt a surge of irritation at her disapproval. She was the one who said I should do anything I could to get Jeff when she was over on Halloween.
I looked at Jilly, ready to fire back if she gave me grief, too.
“You really want to do this, Erin?” Jilly asked.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be your cover.”
By the time school got out, Jilly had the entire party plan worked out. I would pretend to spend the night at her house—perfect because we slept over at each other’s houses so much, our parents never called to check in. And she was lending me her cell so I could call my parents on it and they could call me. They’d see her name on the Caller ID and assume I was with her.
Brilliant.
“And if they call the house number,” she said, “I’ll tell them you’re in the bathroom and then call you so you can call them.”
“But what if your parents answer?”
“They won’t,” Jilly said. “I always answer. They’re always joking that it’s my phone, even though I have a cell, that no one ever calls them.”
I hugged her. “You’re so awesome. I owe you big time.”
Monday morning we sat in history, watching Mr. Perkins go nuts about the Civil War. He had images of soldiers from both the north and the south projected on the board and was discussing the south’s position when the loudspeaker buzzed. Mr. Perkins flicked off the LCD projector and turned on the lights.
“Please excuse the interruption, but we have an important announcement.” Mrs. Porter’s voice sounded higher than usual. “Mr. Foslowski, our long time custodian, suffered a heart attack last night and is in the hospital.”
The classroom seemed to collapse in on itself. I felt like I was looking down a long dark tunnel. I gripped my desk for support as people around me started talking. It was all I could do to keep from falling over.
“He is not allowed visitors but would welcome cards and notes from students,” Mrs. Porter continued. I blinked rapidly, then took a breath, the room coming back into focus. If he wanted cards, that meant he was okay, right? I waited for Mrs. Porter to say more. I thought I heard her blow her nose. “Mr. Foslowski has been a valuable part of our school community for nearly twenty years. We ask each of you to keep him and his family in your thoughts and prayers. We will keep you apprised of his condition and of what we can do to support them.” Another voice said something and we heard Mrs. Porter again, clearly talking to someone else while the intercom was still on. “Yes, I said ‘prayers’ over the loudspeaker and if the ACLU wants to come after me, so be it. This is Mr. Foslowsi.”
The speaker crackled again, then went dead. We listened to the hum of the radiator and the clock ticking the seconds slowly by.
Mr. Perkins cleared his throat. “I think it would be best to take the rest of the class to write something to Mr. Foslowski if you are so inclined. I will collect them at the end of the period and make sure they get to him.”
No one moved for several seconds. Then Rosie took a piece of paper out of her folder and started to write. A few others did the same.
I picked up my pen, then dropped it. The room seemed to grow warmer by the second. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Mr. F had a heart attack.
Mr. F was in the hospital.
I bolted from the room, hardly hearing Mr. Perkins calling after me.
“They can’t mean me,” I said to my mom when she came to pick me up. Mrs. Porter knew about my family’s friendship with Mr. F and had agreed to let me go home early. “I want to see him.” I needed to see him. Needed to make sure he was really okay.
When we got home, Dad and Chris were waiting for us in the living room.
“He’s in intensive care right now,” my dad said as my mom and I sat down next to each other on the couch. “No one can visit except immediate family.”
“I am immediate family,” I said.