The Crush Dilemma (Dear Aubrey Book 1)

by Hatler, Susan

  Plus, for this one day, giving advice as Aubrey had made me feel like I mattered at this school. That my opinions were not only valid, but praised. My heart pounded in my chest and I could hear a mental tick-tock, tick-tock of a clock as I waited to hear my fate. . . .

  Ms. P blinked, then tapped her pen against her opposite palm. “It’s an anonymous column, Denise. The advice column is a school project for a student here at the high school. That’s all I can tell you without violating that student’s confidentiality.”

  “So, the columnist isn’t in this class?” Mason asked.

  Ms. P gave a cursory glance at each of us. “Please respect the person’s privacy, everyone. If you don’t have enough work to keep you busy, I can remedy that,” she added, then turned back to whatever she’d been doing.

  The air whooshed out of my chest, relief sweeping through me.

  William and Denise exchanged defeated looks, making it obvious they had coordinated their efforts. I couldn’t believe my own classmates had been lobbying to find out Aubrey’s real identity. How had my advice become all that on day one?

  Mason slung his arm over my shoulder as I headed back to my desk. “It’s obvious you were interested in writing the column, too. If it’s worth anything, I can’t see you working on Dear Aubrey anyway.”

  I slipped into my seat, frowning. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem . . . too smart to write a gossip column.”

  “First of all, Dear Aubrey is not a gossip column, it’s an advice column. Secondly, you don’t think Aubrey sounds smart?”

  “How would I know? It’s not like I’ve read the column.”

  I couldn’t help but feel defensive. “Well, maybe you should read the column before forming an opinion on its merit. Aren’t you the one always talking about facts before conclusions?”

  He chuckled. “Okay, relax, I’ll read the column.”

  “Maybe you should even pose a question for Dear Aubrey to receive the full effect.” I tried to keep my voice light, in a joking way, even though I truly felt my column deserved a fair shot before he gave his opinion. Mason was one of my best friends and I respected his opinion. If he thought my column was lame. . . Well, I just hoped he didn’t. “Be sure to report back to me on your findings,” I said.

  “Will do.”

  “Excellent.” I turned my attention back to the newspaper on my desk, but couldn’t stop thinking about Mason’s assessment that Dear Aubrey wasn’t a good fit for me. How could one of my best friends not know how much I loved reading people’s questions, mulling over their dilemmas, and giving them advice?

  Well, probably because I’d never told him my dream to be a psychologist. I’d never told anyone my dream career. I dropped my chin on my fist. I longed to help people, but who was I to counsel people when I couldn’t even talk to the It girls without stuttering?

  But what I worried about most of all was what Mason would think of Aubrey after he read the column. Because what Aubrey has to say is exactly what I want to say—but hold back for fear of repercussions. In a way, Aubrey is more me than I am in real life. My stomach tightened. What if my best friend didn’t like the real me? What would I do then?

  Chapter Four

  http://www.dearaubrey.com

  Dear Aubrey,

  I’m not sure what kind of credentials you have to be giving sound advice, but I guess this is worth a shot. There’s someone I’m interested in. A girl. I’ve liked her for awhile now and have hinted that we’d make a good couple. I’m pretty certain she’s hinting back that she likes me, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. What’s your professional advice?

  Curious George

  Dear Curious George,

  Great question about this girl you’re interested in. Your situation is one I’m sure many people can relate to. Just to be clear, though, I’m a student at this high school and am not a professional. But I’m happy to give you this teen girl’s advice and maybe a new perspective will help you with your crush dilemma.

  So here’s what I think you should do. . . I know it’s hard putting yourself out there, but I recommend you stop trying to interpret your friend’s hints and just ask her on a date. That way you’ll find out for sure if she likes you, too.

  Good luck and don’t forget to follow up with me on the results!

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  HYPOTHESIS: Teenage boys try to read girls’ hints before asking them out.

  PURPOSE OF EXPERIMENT: Get them to take the risk and try for love.

  CONCLUSION: To be determined.

  I posted my answer to Curious George, but his comment about my credentials made me question if I really was qualified to give advice. Let’s face it, I’ve had zero training—no practical dating experience either, considering I’d been asked out, uh, never. But at the same time I agreed with Aubrey that a new perspective could be helpful.

  Plus, the buzz around school was that Aubrey was the go-to girl for advice. Surely that meant I was doing a good job, credentials or not. I hoped my advice to Curious George helped him build up some courage to talk to this girl he liked. Maybe she even liked him back and had been waiting this whole time for him to make a move. Swoon!

  Or, um, he was about to get shot down. Yeah, not so swoony.

  But even if the girl Curious George liked didn’t feel the same way about him, then at least he wouldn’t be stuck wasting his time wondering if he had a shot with her or not. Better to find out the truth than waste time on an unrequited crush.

  How could Mason think I wouldn’t love helping people like this? Hopefully, once he saw this latest post, he would think I’d given good advice to Curious George and then he wouldn’t be so critical of Aubrey. Not that he knew Aubrey was me, but if he told me what he thought of Aubrey then I would know what he thought of the real me. Not that he’d know that I knew, but still.

  My secret advice column was getting more complicated by the minute.

  I shook my head and turned back to my cell phone’s Internet screen to check the next post.

  http://www.dearaubrey.com

  Dear Aubrey,

  I know best friends are supposed to tell each other everything, but I’m keeping a secret from mine. I feel like I can’t live up to her expectations. At the same time, I really admire her and don’t want her to think less of me if I tell her my secret. I hope I’m not a terrible best friend. What do you think?

  Friend Girl

  Dear Friend Girl,

  I’m sorry you’re having trouble with your bff. Guess what, though? If you can’t reveal your secret to her, then you probably aren’t that good of friends. Unless you’re honest with her, she doesn’t even know the real you. If you think she’s worth it, spill your guts. Her reaction will define your friendship, trust me.

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  HYPOTHESIS: People have trouble talking honestly to their friends.

  PURPOSE OF EXPERIMENT: Be yourself and hope they like you anyway.

  CONCLUSION: Don’t I wish I knew the results on this one.

  After school, I slammed my locker shut feeling bad for Friend Girl who had posted on the Dear Aubrey column. She claimed to be keeping a secret from her best friend and I could so relate. Actually, I had multiple secrets. Why was it hard to confide in my own best friends? I mean, wasn’t that what best friends were for? Sharing each other’s hopes and dreams, and supporting each other?

  Maybe I should tell Beth and Mason about my goal to become a psychologist. But even the mere thought of telling them made my stomach curl. I knew they wouldn’t laugh in my face or anything. They weren’t cruel. But what if they thought I didn’t have what it took to be a psych major? I was pretty sure that would crush me.

  With a sigh, I headed toward the library because—in addition to all of my regular studies—I’d committed to tutoring two of Mr. Erickson’s students in U.S. History. And Mr. Erickson had just told me who I’d be tutoring: Jake Taylor, and Daniel
Baker!

  Me, tutoring two It boys—one of them being my long time crush who was newly single, and the other one who had given me that half-smile I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  My stomach flip-flopped with either excitement or nausea. Probably both. I mean, tutoring Jake and Daniel for the next month? Talk about too much for my nerves. I braced myself as I turned down the hall toward the library, hoping neither of the guys would notice the faded pink yogurt stain on their tutor’s chest.

  “Poppy?” Beth’s voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw her running in her sequined white flats—must be new?—until she caught up with me. “I’m glad I caught you. I need to talk to you,” she said, sounding winded. “It’s important.”

  “Sure.” I started to smile, but when I saw Beth’s animated face, I thought of Friend Girl and felt like a complete hypocrite. Actually, that was what I’d been thinking ever since I’d written and posted my gut response.

  I mean, who was I to advise Friend Girl that failing to tell her best friend the truth meant that they weren’t close? Did that mean Beth and I weren’t truly best friends either? I wanted to tell Beth I was so over and done with The Pact. But I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, or have her be upset with me. Aubrey would’ve totally called me out on my wimpiness.

  I must have looked as depressed as I felt because Beth squinted her eyes at me and laid her hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

  See? Someone who wasn’t a true friend wouldn’t care enough to check me for a fever. I shouldn’t be such a coward about talking to her. My stomach clenched. “I’m fine. It’s just . . .” I stumbled, unable to get the words out. “I don’t know.”

  “Is this about Dear Aubrey?” she asked.

  My eyes grew wide. “Huh?”

  “A lot of the It crowd is glomming onto Aubrey’s column, and some even claim they know her.” She chewed on her glitter-polished thumbnail like a hamster nibbling on a pellet. “It’s making me feel more unpopular than normal. So I thought that might be bothering you, too?”

  “Um, no.” My alter ego was a highly sought after advice columnist, so I didn’t exactly feel unpopular. Well, part of me didn’t. But something about the way Beth was attacking her nail bothered me. “Since when do you care about being popular?” I asked.

  “I don’t.” She snorted. Or tried to. It wasn’t very convincing.

  “Walk with me so I’m not late.” I checked my watch, then gave Beth a sideways glance as I hurried toward the library with her trotting along at my side. I’d never heard her worry about being unpopular before. So weird. And when had she bought those sparkly shoes?

  I might not be a very good friend for keeping Dear Aubrey a secret, or not telling her I felt done with The Pact, but at least I could try and find out what was bothering her. What was the point of giving advice to strangers if you couldn’t even help your best friend? In fact, maybe I should take my own advice and open up to her right now. I cleared my throat.

  “There’s something I should tell you.” I sucked in a breath and hugged my books to my chest. “It’s kind of a confession.”

  She stopped just outside of the library door, swiveling to face me. “Sure, you can tell me anything.” With her eyes covered by silver aviator sunglasses, I couldn’t see the expression in her eyes, but her voice sounded tight.

  “Okay, well, I don’t want to upset you, but it’s about The Sacred Pact,” I started, wanting to explain that while I was tired of it, I’d never get tired of her. “I—”

  “I’m sick to death of The Sacred Pact,” Beth blurted out.

  “W-What?” I guess shock didn’t do much for my ability to speak. An awkward silence ensued.

  “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I know how important The Pact is to you. But we made that up in junior high and it feels childish to me now. Old school. I know you believe in The Pact whole-heartedly, but I need to be myself. You’re my best friend and that means I should be able to tell you anything.” She paused, staring at me. “You might hate me now, but there’s more.”

  My eyes widened. “More?”

  She nodded. “I’m constantly thinking about the fun parties the It crowd has, even though their extracurricular activities have nothing to do with long-term goals. I’m ready to try new things—just for the excitement of it.”

  “Are you blitzing me?” I asked. Wait, did I just say blitzing? That was Amber’s word, not mine. Oh, fabulous. Between Aubrey, Amber, Trish and Karen, I’d totally lost my own vocabulary.

  “I love you, Poppy.” She pushed her sunglasses down her nose and peered over them. “I don’t want anything to come between us. But, for me, not everything in life has to be about being productive. The It crowd has so much fun and I want to be part of that.”

  “Part of the It crowd?” I asked, unable to believe my ears.

  She nodded. “I truly value your opinion above everybody’s and I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she went on. “You’re going to think it’s frivolous, but I wrote to Dear Aubrey about our relationship. She said if we were truly best friends then I should be able to tell you honestly how I feel. So I am.”

  “You wrote to Aubrey?” My mouth dropped open as it hit me that, an hour ago, I’d given my best friend advice about how to talk to me. I’d even kind of insulted myself. Oh, the oddness. I shook my head. “I can’t believe you wrote Dear Aubrey.”

  She shook her head and sniffled. “I knew you’d be mad.”

  “Confused would be a better word,” I said, stunned. Aghast. Any of those assessments would be accurate. My best friend had gone to my secret persona to get advice on how to talk to me. How whacked was that? “I’m not mad, Beth. Just . . . surprised.”

  “You’re not mad? Really?”

  I shook my head. “Believe me when I say that I agree with Aubrey’s advice. You should be able to tell me anything.”

  “So, you’re okay if we put The Sacred Pact to rest? It was fun and all when we were young, but we’re juniors, you know?”

  I nodded. “I totally agree.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Her eyes suddenly watered. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this forever. Aubrey was totally right about opening up to you. In addition to wanting to go to an It party, I also want to start dating. And if my grades drop to a 3.9 because of my social life, then I’m okay with that.”

  “Now you’re talking crazy,” I joked, since Beth was throwing me off guard. I hadn’t even considered she might feel the same way I did about The Pact. And I’d had no idea she was interested in the It crowd—still didn’t understand that one. But she’d opened up to me even though it had been hard for her. I totally admired her for that. Now more than ever I wanted to confide everything to her, even about my alter ego. But would I still be able to give honest and open advice to kids if she knew Aubrey was me? I wasn’t sure.

  I checked my watch. “Can we talk more later? I promised Mr. Erickson I’d tutor a couple of his students at three o’clock—Jake Taylor and Daniel Baker—in U.S. History and it’s almost three right now—”

  “Jake and Daniel?” She grabbed my arm and squealed. “This is the kind of thing I’m talking about! How’d you score that tutoring gig? I want in. Can I tutor one of them? Please? Or, I could be your assistant . . .”

  I pondered having Beth help me out. She really was an excellent tutor—and aced everything involving U.S. History. But I felt nervous about talking to Jake after all these years, especially since he and Amber had finally broken up. And I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that smile—half-smile, or whatever—from newbie Daniel Baker. It was all too much. “Not this time, but thanks for offering.”

  She faux pouted. “You just want them all to yourself.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I laughed, and Daniel’s half-grin flashed in my head. I forced the image out of my mind and reached for my best friend’s hand. “Beth, I’m sorry you had to write Dear Aubrey for advice on how to talk to me. We ca
n tell each other anything. And if you want to go to parties, then you should go to parties.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.

  “Not like anyone from the It crowd would actually invite me to a party, anyway. But if I did go to one . . do you promise that wouldn’t affect our friendship?” Her tone said she didn’t buy that, and she gave me a skeptical look.

  “I promise.” I gave her a big hug, assured her we’d talk more later, then pulled open the library door and slipped inside. I glanced around the library but neither of the guys were here yet. Probably a good thing since Beth’s questioning tone still nagged at me.

  I’d given Beth my word that it wouldn’t bother me if she went to a party and I felt the need to prove that to her. Whose party should she go to, though? How could she score an invite? Not like I had any experience in this area. But it would be rude for her to just drop by someone’s house unannounced and without a proper invitation, right? What if the host made fun of her for coming and kicked her out?

  Suddenly, I had an idea.

  Finding an empty table in the library, I plopped my books down, pulled out my phone, and typed furiously to the private email address that had been left by my first commenter on Dear Aubrey.

  Dear Confused,

  I have a huge favor to ask, but need it kept as a secret between us. Would you take Beth Cooper to a party? She’s in your grade and is a really sweet girl. Maybe you could introduce her around, too? I can’t really explain why I need this favor, but I’d really appreciate your help and I think it will help with your situation as well. Let me know.