The Crush Dilemma (Dear Aubrey Book 1)

by Hatler, Susan

  “Beth, I—”

  “I talked to Mason,” she interrupted.

  “You . . . he . . . what?” I didn’t sound vastly intelligent but did this mean Beth hadn’t heard Trish’s theory (and the truth) that I was Aubrey? It took a moment for me to recover and my stomach chose that moment to growl. I pulled out my sandwich and took a bite. “Tell me what happened and start from the beginning.”

  “Right before lunch, I walked up to Mason in the hall, prepared to tell him how much I like him.” Her voice was sharp and bright and I knew her well enough to know that that meant that she was just a quarter-inch from breaking down and crying.

  Oh boy. “And?”

  “He friend-zoned me before I ever got it out of my mouth. He also said he likes Amber. He has actual feelings for her. I blew my chance, Poppy. Mason has a girlfriend now.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I gave her hand a squeeze. My day had just managed to get even worse. After all of these years hoping, I now knew that Beth and Mason were never going to happen. The sandwich stuck in my throat, choking me.

  “He’s totally crushed out on her,” Beth pronounced gloomily. “My heart is broken.”

  We both glanced over at the It table. Amber was giggling and pushing some kind of dessert into Mason’s mouth. He grinned, swallowed, then leaned over and kissed her. Right there, in front of everyone. They looked like a happy new couple. And my best friend was heartbroken.

  I had no advice and there wasn’t anything I could do to help. I couldn’t breathe past the huge knot in my stomach and now that knot wasn’t just for me but for Beth. I’d ruined everyone’s life with my advice and I had no idea how to fix any of it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  http://www.dearaubrey.com

  Dear Aubrey,

  Thanks for being so real. I’ve been trying to be someone I’m not in order to fit in. But after reading your column, I’m working on just being myself. I’m pretty geeky and I know I’ll never be part of the It crowd, but maybe I belong at this school anyway. What do you think?

  Best,

  Huge Geek

  Dear Huge Geek,

  I’m glad my column’s helped you be real. I get you’re feeling “left out” and I’ll bet a lot of students at San Felipe High can relate. Just know that whatever label you give yourself—geek, athlete, It crowd, or whatever—everyone’s got a bit of each label in them. We all belong at this school and I’m glad you’re starting to be yourself.

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  HYPOTHESIS: Teens feel they don’t belong at this school.

  PURPOSE OF EXPERIMENT: Get teens to be themselves and understand we’re not so different from each other.

  CONCLUSION: Maybe I should take my own advice.

  Later that evening, I was contemplating the post on Dear Aubrey from Huge Geek along with my response. Under my secret identity, I spoke my true mind and was myself but when I did that in real life—aka: calling my mom a dictator—it disrupted my “good girl” status. I didn’t like getting grounded or feeling like I’d disappointed her.

  Ready to put more effort into making my mom happy, I’d already started dinner when she arrived home. She gave me a grateful look as she and Stephen came through the front door. Unfortunately, his chubby little face was streaked with tears. I watched as he launched himself on the living room couch and then switched on the TV.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

  Mom headed for the refrigerator. “He lost his jacket at school. I told him I’m not buying him another new one. He needs to understand the financial consequences. I’m not made of money.”

  “Oh.” I blinked, wanting to understand. I knew being a single parent couldn’t be easy, especially with our dad living across the country. I felt sure Stephen didn’t mean to lose his jacket. Accidents happen, right? But I decided to keep my mouth shut so as not to stir up trouble.

  Mom picked up the mail from where I’d set it down. She groaned and sat down in a chair, sorting through the stack with a grim expression. I suspected the envelopes contained bills, and no way did I want to be around when she unloaded. So I set the pot of marinara sauce to simmer on the stove and headed for the living room.

  Stephen sat on the floor, engrossed in some animated show. I sat beside him and put an arm around him. He rested his head on my shoulder. My phone went off and I reached for it. Daniel’s name appeared on the screen, which made my belly do a somersault.

  I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Daniel. What are you up to?”

  “I’m cooking dinner because my mom had to work late again. What are you doing?”

  “Yeah, my mom had to work late, too.” There was an air of fatalism in his voice that made me laugh. “I’m doing homework.”

  “U.S. History?”

  “You guessed it.” He chuckled, the soft sound giving me a goofy smile. “I actually can’t talk. My mom will freak if she sees I’m not studying. But I wanted to at least say hi.”

  He wanted to say hi to me? Swoon. I hugged Stephen a little tighter and my goofy grin turned into a huge smile. “I’m glad you called.”

  “Me, too. I’m glad we’re friends.”

  My stomach sank. He just wanted to talk to me as a friend? I shouldn’t have felt disappointed but tears filled my eyes. I suddenly blurted, “I’m beyond socially awkward. Aren’t I?”

  “You’re not socially awkward.” His voice was firm. Then a long stretch of silence came across the line. Finally, he said, “I’d better go. I just wanted to make sure we’re good.”

  My throat ached with all the things I wanted to say still. How much I really liked him was first on my list. But if he’d had feelings for me then they were obviously gone. He’d friend-zoned me just like Mason had done with Beth. I bit my lip. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you at school.” I hung up. At least he and I were friends. That was better than nothing. Stephen yawned and I shook him a little. “Hey, don’t fall asleep. I’m making spaghetti, your favorite.”

  He smiled up at me. “Thanks, Poppy.”

  I gave him a kiss before I got up and went back to the kitchen. The sauce smelled good and the angel hair pasta was already draining in the colander. I started to set the table while my mom just sat there, her face pointed into the pile of bills and junk mail.

  She looked beyond stressed out. What kind of advice would Aubrey give my mom?

  Dear Frazzled Mom,

  I’m sure single parenthood is no picnic, but this stress isn’t healthy and it’s rubbing off on your kids. Maybe take up yoga or a meditation class during your lunch hour. Your kids need more from you than constant criticism. They’re hurting as much as you are.

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  Okay, those were things I wanted to say to my mom, but why was I thinking of saying them as Aubrey? If I had something to say then I should “be real” and just say it, right?

  I sucked in a breath. “Mom?”

  She didn’t even glance up. “Hey, hold on a second, okay?”

  I waited, holding a plate in front of me like a shield as she ran her fingers down a bill, the paper crackling slightly as she did so.

  When she looked back up at me her eyes were troubled. “Poppy, is something going on at school you want to tell me about?”

  I clutched the plate more tightly, wondering if the school had written her a letter about my dismal progress report in P.E. I gulped. “Um, no. Why?”

  “You haven’t been acting like yourself.”

  “I could say the same about you.” I set the plate down carefully. I stared at her. “My dad left me. Just like he left Stephen. All we have is you. But it feels like I can’t do anything right in your eyes. Now I see you’ve started to treat Stephen the same way.”

  Her mouth formed an “o.” “Did you honestly just say that to me?”

  “Yes,” I said, knowing it
was too late to take it back. “It’s true, too. You’re all we have but you’re always harping on us to do more.” I turned to the sink and took the colander—with the still-steaming pasta in it—out of the sink and then dumped the pasta into a bowl. “It isn’t fair, you know. I mean, we do our best.”

  The sound of her chair scraping back was very loud. “Life’s hard, Poppy. That’s the reality. I’m preparing you to be able to take care of yourself. Do you want to struggle like I do?”

  “No.” I set the strainer down and faced her. “Look, I’ve never been divorced. Or paid bills. I just know it isn’t right that we’re supposed to support you when you work late, but you don’t support us right back. You just expect us to do more.”

  Oh, boy. She looked mad. I wrung my hands together and avoided her gaze.

  She sat back down. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Me, too.” I grabbed the bowl of pasta, dumped the sauce into it, and mixed it all up. Then I took out the bowl of salad I’d made. I set both bowls on the dining room table and called for Stephen.

  My mom sat motionless and silent in her chair. Guilt ate at me. Why hadn’t I just stayed quiet? Speaking my mind obviously hadn’t made anything better.

  Mom sighed. “I’m sorry money’s so tight and things aren’t the best.”

  “Not your fault.” I attacked my plate, twirling noodles around the tines of my fork while cutting them with my spoon. “I’m just saying it would be nice to be praised sometimes.”

  We started eating dinner in an awkward silence. Now that I’d told my mom how I felt, I had the sudden urge to tell her about everything that had happened lately. My column, my progress report, and how things had gotten so out of whack. Would she even listen, though? How could she listen when all she could think about was the mound of bills?

  “Thank you for making dinner tonight,” Mom said, her voice quiet.

  My gaze shot to hers and we exchanged a look that made my throat tighten.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, a small weight lifting from my shoulders. I’d said what I thought and she’d heard me. I knew it had been hard for her to give me that small bit of appreciation. But it was a step in the right direction.

  ****

  I arrived early to school the next morning and sat on a bench in the nearly empty courtyard. I’d gotten here early because I wanted to clear my head. I couldn’t seem to do that at home after my talk with my mom last night, and there was no way I could relax during the school day with people staring at me and whispering due to the rumor.

  Enjoying the morning sun and cool breeze, I absorbed myself in a U.S. History assignment. I hadn’t finished the chapter I was reading when a shadow fell over me. I glanced up to see Daniel standing there. My heart unwittingly squeezed.

  He looked beyond gorgeous, as usual. His muscular arms—lean from sports—showed beneath the short sleeves of his shirt and I stared at them, wondering how I’d ever thought Jake’s arms were so appealing. Daniel’s green eyes with gold flecks peered down at me, causing a little frisson of joy in my chest, until I reminded myself we’d only ever be friends.

  “Is anyone sitting here?” he asked.

  “No.” I scooted over a little on the bench.

  He took a spot next to me. “What are you working on?”

  “Trying to finish this U.S. History assignment.”

  He squinted at my laptop screen. “You need some help?”

  I brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Oh, you’re an expert now?”

  He gave me a smug grin. “I had a great tutor. By the way, I owe you a basketball lesson. I shouldn’t have stopped helping you. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, touched by his apology. Basketball was definitely a problem on my mind. Plus, my home life was a mess. Trish was literally wrecking my social life by convincing people I’d hooked up with Jake, which meant that Amber might have it out for me too. I had no idea how long Aubrey could hold Amber off but it was a sure bet that it wouldn’t be all the way to graduation. I looked back at the laptop. “I could use some help, actually.”

  His mouth curved upward. “What don’t you understand?”

  I lifted one shoulder. “I’m too distracted with life problems to concentrate on U.S. History.”

  “Oh.” His hand nudged mine, sending tingles up my arm. I remembered him holding my hand before, and wished he would do that again. “What’s going on?”

  I thought about telling him, then shook my head. “I’m having a problem with . . . one of your friends. So it would be really awkward to tell you about it.”

  His eyes peered into mine. “Poppy, you can talk to me.”

  Something in the way he was looking at me made me able to say, “It’s Trish. She hates me and she’s spreading the worst kind of gossip, which you’ve already heard. Everyone seems to believe the rumor and I don’t know how to stop her.” I shifted and our bodies touched, just briefly, but enough to make a swarm of butterflies flutter in my belly. “She literally cornered me in the restroom yesterday, threatening me. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You don’t have anything to prove,” he said, then tapped his fingers on his cell phone’s key pad. “If people want to believe a rumor, then that’s their problem.”

  “Well, it’s sort of mine, too,” I said, watching him type. “What are you doing?”

  He flashed a quick smile. “Helping you with the U.S. History assignment.”

  “Really? Now if someone could just help me with the rest of my problems.”

  He turned to face me. We sat there, looking at each other. I really wanted to tell him how much I liked him—as more than a friend—and that the worst mistake I’d made lately was believing that he hadn’t wanted to meet up with me at Crush. I also wanted to ask him about the whipped cream on his shirt from when Mason’s car was vandalized. I still couldn’t image Daniel doing something so mean. But for some reason, I couldn’t make myself say the words.

  His knees brushed mine. Morning sunshine poured down on us. My heart skipped a whole lot of beats. Finally, he took my hand. “I’m here for you, Poppy. As a friend.”

  My throat clenched up. There was that “friend” word again. But I was still touched. “You know hanging out with me might ruin your social status, right?”

  “It would be worth it.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  He nodded, leaning a little closer. The sunlight shone down on his soft brown hair and the strong slant of his cheek. My pulse went crazy. He was so close I could feel his breath against my cheek. Ever so slowly, he leaned toward me and I moved toward him. Was he going to kiss me? If so, I was definitely going to kiss him back.

  Our mouths became really close. Only centimeters apart.

  “Hey, Daniel!” a familiar male voice shouted.

  My head snapped up and I saw Mason coming toward us. He took a seat next to Daniel. “What are you doing here so early?”

  I looked around. It wasn’t that early anymore. The place had begun to fill up with students and I hadn’t even noticed that happen. I also hadn’t noticed Trish arrive but she stood across the courtyard, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

  I hadn’t told Daniel that Trish liked him. I’d purposely left that part out. In truth, I had wrecked Trish’s party. I sort of owed her that favor of silence. Besides, there were some things girls just shouldn’t do to each other and that was one of them. I didn’t like how she treated me but that didn’t mean I had to stoop to her level or start a bunch of problems for her. Or embarrass her any more than I had by suggesting everyone go to Crush instead of her party.

  Daniel chatted with Mason for a few minutes before I gathered up my stuff. Daniel and I had first period together but he had to go to his locker first in a different hall. Whatever moment we’d shared before Mason’s arrival was gone now. So we headed off in different directions, but Mason walked along beside me.

  I nudged his arm.“Hey, thanks for helping me out at Crush.”

>   Mason gave me a long look. “You’re welcome. How are things with Daniel?”

  “Huh? We’re just friends.” Unfortunately.

  Mason rolled his head on his neck. “Poppy, you’re one of my best friends. But sometimes you keep your head under the sand.”

  I clutched at my bag. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Trish walked by us. “Watch out now. She’s a boyfriend stealer.”

  Mason gave her an annoyed look. “Trish, go away.”

  At any other time I would’ve been happy to have someone stand up to Trish Benson for me. But right then I braced myself that she might blurt out I was Aubrey. For some reason I couldn’t understand, she didn’t. Odd. What was she up to?

  “I’ll see you later, Mason.” I practically dashed in the opposite direction away from him. I hated being such a coward. I hated that revealing my secret identity made me feel so vulnerable. Maybe I never should’ve started Dear Aubrey in the first place.

  ****

  I was amazed and thankful that Daniel hadn’t flirted with Trish in first period today. In fact, he’d saved a seat for me by the window and spent most of the period tapping my arm with his pencil and whispering in my ear. I had to admit I liked his attention. A lot.

  When lunch rolled around, Beth and Daniel had saved me a seat at our usual table and I took it warily. Trish and Jake weren’t at the It table and neither were Amber and Mason. I hoped they weren’t having a discussion about yours truly.

  Beth was telling Daniel and me about her Spanish teacher getting on her case over her sub-par accent, when the cafeteria speakers came to life with a loud crackle and pop. Then a long whine of feedback tore through the room.

  I clapped a hand to my right ear and glared at the ceiling. Yikes!

  “Attention students,” came a disembodied voice. “Attention students. There’s a special assembly in the main gymnasium today at one o’clock. I repeat, there is a special assembly in the gymnasium at one o’clock.”