by Kym Brunner
Lucy finally turned my way. “Liking your mom has nothing to do with it. ‘Do you like what she does for a living?’ is the question I’m interested in.”
I knew this was my test, but luckily, I’d already read the CliffsNotes. “That’s what I wanted to explain. She’s a scientist conducting research to save people from dying of heart attacks. She doesn’t do plastic surgery on pigs like you thought. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know what she did at work until the day I saw you guys protesting at the university.”
Haley rolled her eyes. “You live with the woman, so how could you not know?”
Lucy looked at me with a furrowed brow. “I guess I can believe that. A lot of kids don’t know what their parents really do at work. But is it true that she kills dogs?”
The bus’s wheels screeched as the driver braked to pick up our next passengers. I flicked the hair out of my eyes. “You know what? Does it really matter what my mom does or doesn’t do at her work? We’re two different people, with our own opinions and beliefs, and you shouldn’t judge me because of her.”
“That’s true. I wouldn’t want anyone judging me because of my crazy parents.” Lucy seemed satisfied with my response. “Let’s give him another chance, Haley. I think it’s great that Mercer still wants to be in HALT even if his mother doesn’t like it.” She smiled at me. “Welcome back.”
My face heated as panic clawed its way up my throat. I wanted out of the club and into her heart. She stared at me, waiting for an answer, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “That’s cool. I, uh, just can’t go to protests, if that’s okay.”
As soon as the words left my lips, I hated myself. Why didn’t I just tell her I quit but wanted to still hang out? I made myself a promise right then and there that I’d get out of this mess as soon as I had a chance to speak to Lucy privately. Just not this second. Not with Haley the Hater in the seat next to her.
Lucy’s pretty eyes stared down at her hands. “Well . . . that kind of works out because my parents said I couldn’t hang out with you anymore.”
My heart sank. “Oh.”
Lucy fiddled with her gold heart necklace. “But I’m sure once I tell them you don’t feel the same way as your mom, they won’t mind.” She looked at me with a mixture of emotions. Like relief and something else, but I couldn’t quite pin it. Confusion? Disbelief? What was that?
I wasn’t sure until she sighed and blessed me with the most incredible smile, one that transformed the roar of the rowdy students and the rumbling of the bus motor into a mellow buzz. And that was when I knew she liked me as much as I liked her. All I had left to do was go in for the kill, so to speak. If I handled things the way hawks did—with ferocity, skill, and courage—perhaps Lucy would be as helpless as a chipmunk when I turned on my charm and finally asked her out.
And this time, nothing was going to stop me.
EIGHTEEN
I STOOD NEAR CHARLIE’S AND REED’S LOCKERS, recounting the horrible scene at the Johnny Appleseed festival, my dad’s ultimatum, and ended with my fast-talking on the bus to smooth everything over. “Today at lunch, I’m taking the plunge and asking Lucy if she wants to hang out with me on Friday night.”
“Whoa! Is this the same meek Mercer who needed help asking Marcy Feldman to the graduation dance last year?” Charlie threw his books on the floor, and then used his foot to stuff his coat and mounds of gym clothes and other crap into his locker, before slamming it shut.
I rolled my eyes, both at his comment and the disgust level of his locker. “I didn’t need help, just advice.”
Charlie raised one eyebrow. “Advice in the form of me walking over there with you, and starting up a conversation with her that ended with ‘Mercer wants to know what you’re doing for the dance.’”
I pushed his shoulder, laughing. “Shut up. I wasn’t that bad.”
Reed grabbed a spiral notebook and his algebra book from his locker. “I’ve got some advice for you. Go out with someone you don’t have to lie to.”
“Oh, burn.” Charlie grinned, watching my reaction.
“Shut up, Reed. I did tell Lucy that I couldn’t go to any more protests.”
“Wait. So you’re still staying in HALT?” Charlie stuck a pen behind his ear.
I shrugged. “Not exactly. Things are still sort of up in the air.”
The bell rang and Reed slammed his locker. “Did you tell her about Flip?”
“Not yet, but soon,” I snapped, not liking his tone.
“Sure you will.” He shook his head as he walked away.
“Back off, Reed,” I called out, but he didn’t turn around.
I balled up my fists, settling for a weak fist pound on the locker. “Did you hear that? What a douche.”
Charlie pinched my shirtsleeve and pulled me the opposite way, toward our classes. “Eh, what does he know? He changes girlfriends faster than he changes oil. He’s like Lincoln—loves ’em and leaves ’em.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled. Was that what Lincoln was doing to Lauren? Or was Zola the one who’d be leaving? I didn’t want to think about that now. “So wait, are you saying Reed likes Lucy too?”
“Not that I know of. But like you told Flip the other day, ‘May the best man win.’ Go get her, Merky.” Before we parted ways, Charlie gave my upper arm a little punch. Seeing as it hurt only a little, I figured I must be getting stronger from all of my apprentice duties.
As I walked to the gym, I thought about Reed’s comment. Since when had he become Mr. Honest? He had copied my algebra homework before class tons of times. Did he tell every girl he liked the truth—that he spent every spare moment restoring old cars and dirt biking around Mount Trashmore? Did he mention that he got mostly C minuses and Ds on his report cards, and that was with tutoring help? I doubted it.
Besides, all this lying would end if Lucy and I started going out—which is exactly why I needed to ask her today. If she wasn’t interested in me, I’d come clean and these little lies would become one innocent little blip on my integrity radar. The thing that bothered me most, though, was the idea that Reed might like Lucy too. What happened to the bro code? Wasn’t he supposed to back down? I’m positive I made it clear I liked her way before he did.
When fifth period came, I nearly knocked people over in the halls trying to get to lunch. I needed to get there before Lucy took her seat with the Veggie Girls. I buzzed through the cafeteria line and bought two soft pretzels with cheese and a large Coke, not even bothering to grab a tray. I stood by the entrance to the cafeteria, balancing my two Styrofoam plates on top of each other, eyeing the swarms of students streaming past me. I must have looked like a dope standing there, but then Lucy walked right up to me and instantly upped my reputation.
“Hey, Mercer. What’re you standing here for?”
“I was waiting for you.” I motioned with my chin toward the courtyard. “You want to eat outside today? The weather’s nice for a change and . . .” I looked down at my feet and thought, And what? I want to ask you out when no one’s around in case you say no? “And the leaves are at their peak.”
The leaves are at their peak? That was something a grandmother would say, not a cool guy about to ask out the cutest girl in school. Not only that, but my statement was another lie. The leaves wouldn’t peak until mid-October. I knew because it was my job to rake the front lawn after the peak took a nosedive.
She gazed at me as if I were an adorable puppy—her eyes wide open, her lips puffed out in a cute way. “Aw, that’s sweet. I love it when the leaves change colors too. Should I go invite everyone else to come out with us?”
Here’s where I had to play it cool, or all could be lost. “Nah. Charlie and Reed said they wanted to entertain your friends, so I thought I’d let them go at it awhile. What do you think?”
She tilted her head ever so slightly, as if assessing me. I could tell by her expression she was quickly comprehending that I wanted us to be alone. I waited for her reply,
my mouth contorted into an awkward, frozen smile. If she declined, I’d feel as miserable as my stomach did at that very moment, but at least I’d know where we stood.
She held up a purple lunch bag. “Sure, why not? Let’s go.”
Yes! First hurdle over. We went through the double doors and out into the courtyard. It was quadruple the size of our family room and had a red maple in the center surrounded by a sitting wall. On the outskirts of the courtyard, there were benches, interspersed with prickly yellow and red bushes. Groups of twos and threes lounged around eating their lunches. I steered us to a sunny bench off by ourselves.
As we sat down, Lucy admired the massive maple tree. “The leaves didn’t turn out as pretty this year.”
I wanted to add, but you did, and then held back. It was way too cheesy, even though it was true. Her lips were shiny with lip gloss, and her gorgeous blond hair was draped over one shoulder, catching the sunlight every time she moved. I wondered what Lincoln would say if he were me right now: You look so hot, I might burn up if you don’t kiss me, or something equally lame. He’d told me that girls eat flattery up like chocolate and I should dispense it as if I owned a candy store. I decided I’d at least try to give her a compliment if I got another chance.
Lucy set her lunch bag on her lap and pulled out a pita sandwich. She took a bite and then sat sideways to face me. “When you lived in Wisconsin, did your family make huge mountains of leaves and burn them up in the yard?”
I nearly choked on my bite of pretzel in an effort to answer quickly. “All the time! Burning leaves is one of my favorite smells. You’d drive around the neighborhood, and everyone had huge smoldering piles of leaves. Not being able to do it in Illinois is another thing that sucks about being a FIB, huh?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Totally! Not to mention all the traffic here. Ugh!” She grimaced and crossed her eyes, making me laugh. “I start Driver’s Ed next semester. How about you?”
“Me too. But since my dad has a huge pick-up truck that looks impossible to drive, and my mom . . .” I paused, worried about bringing up my mother. But if I was going to be more honest, I couldn’t avoid talking about her. “My mom babies her sports car, so I probably won’t get to use it much.”
“Bummer. My mom doesn’t drive, but I’m pretty sure my dad is going to go all ‘commander general’ on me behind the wheel. He’s intense.”
We took bites of our sandwiches—Lucy thinking about driving and me wondering how I could drive this conversation toward going out on Friday. I peeked at my cell. Another fifteen minutes before the period ended. I didn’t want to ask her out until right before the bell, though. If she said no, this lunch would get awkward quickly.
Before I could find out what else she missed about Wisconsin, Lucy asked, “Did you hear that we’re planning a ‘HALT the Killing of Our Furry Friends Car Wash’ to raise money for that no-kill shelter—Joy’s Animal Salvation?” She bit into a celery stalk, crunching loudly.
“No, I hadn’t. When is it?” A huge blast of guilt pressed against my chest. If Dad found out . . . I swallowed hard. Wait a second. How could he be mad at me for raising money to help orphaned dogs and cats in an animal shelter? In my mind, it more or less made up for the ones my mom euthanized at work.
Reed’s advice leaked into my brain. Was all this conniving worth it? One glance at how cute Lucy looked in her skinny black T-shirt with a cartoon frog on it that read DON’T FROGGIN’ DISSECT ME, and I thought, oh yeah. She is totally worth it.
She paused a second. “Aren’t you worried your dad would get mad if he knew?”
As if she had read my mind! Her question so surprised me that the sip of Coke in my mouth went down the wrong pipe, making me cough. Lucy patted me on the back. Her gentle touch sent an awesome sensation through my body. “A little, I guess.”
She nodded. “I was nervous when I told my dad that you might come. Sorry to say, he went ballistic, yelling that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” She took a bite of her sandwich, not looking me in the eye.
“Oh.” My stomach felt as if a professional wrestler had not only flipped me to the mat but kicked me in the gut to boot. Asking her out now would be futile.
She swallowed fast and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “But then, in the middle of this long drawn-out lecture, I got so mad that I finally told him I could hang out with who I wanted and he couldn’t stop me.”
Holy crap. That had to mean something. I held back a smile. “Whoa. What’d he say when you told him that?”
Three dark-haired girls walked by, talking in Spanish so loudly that we both looked up. I wished they’d hurry past us so I could hear her answer.
Lucy shrugged, fiddling with her lunch bag. “He said I’d be grounded for a month if I ever talked to him like that again, and that if I knew what was good for me, I’d listen to his advice. So . . . maybe skip this event and only do the ones my father doesn’t come to?” She studied me, waiting for my response. Her message was as obvious as if written in spray paint on the bench we were sitting on: if we went out, our parents couldn’t know about it. Which definitely worked for me as well.
“Looks like we’re kind of in the same boat then.” I smiled at her and placed my hand on her knee, testing the waters to see if she moved her leg away. She didn’t. “But don’t worry. I’ll get you some pretty pink pillows to sit on or something so our boat will be comfy.”
Lucy laughed, easing the tension. “I prefer blue, actually.”
“Blue it is.” I squeezed her knee twice and let go, not wanting to push things too quickly. I grinned at her, thinking that if I did have to be on a sinking boat, there would be no one I’d rather be with. When she bit into her sandwich, I said, “I’m afraid to ask what you’re eating.”
“Cucumbers with cilantro and hummus. Want a bite?” She held it out to me.
I made a face. “Uh, no, thanks. I’ll stick to my pretzels and cheese. You want some?” I held out my mostly uneaten second pretzel.
“Sure. Thanks.” She pulled off a small section and dabbed it into my cheese. No, our cheese, which I thought was a rather cheesy thing to think.
“This was a great idea, Mercer. It’s really nice out here.” We both turned when the Hispanic girls screamed ten feet from us, swatting at some yellow jackets that had taken a liking to their lunches.
“I hate bees!” Lucy said, visibly shuddering. “My dad says that at this time of year, they get drunk on all the fermented apples lying around and freak out.”
I wanted to ask if her dad felt swatting a yellow jacket was abusive, but decided it might ruin the mood. When I saw some kids tossing their lunch bags into the trash, I knew the period was almost over. I glanced at the time. Three minutes left. Was that enough time?
Just do it already! my brain screamed.
I took a deep breath. “Speaking of freaky things, have you seen that movie, Flight of the Living Dead, yet? The reviews say it’s the scariest, goriest undead movie in ten years. Anyway, I was planning to check it out on Friday. You want to come with?”
For several unbearably long seconds, I detected a crazy look of dread on her face. Had I made a huge mistake? Reverse, back up. Pretend I didn’t ask.
Then she wiggled her fingers up by her face, repeating the tag line from the trailer using a spooky voice, “Come aboard the flight to hell.”
I laughed out loud, as much from relief as from humor. “I think you’d be the perfect flight attendant. So how about it? You want to go?”
She nodded. “I’d love to! That would be fun. Let’s see who else wants to go from our group, and maybe we can all go out for pizza after or something.”
My heart fell out of my chest and landed with a splat on the sidewalk. That was her way of telling me she didn’t want it to be just us. I clenched my teeth while keeping a smile on my face so as not to appear disappointed. I managed to nod. “Cool. I’ll ask Reed and Charlie if they want to go too.”
“And I’ll see what Haley a
nd Jeanette are doing. It’ll be awesome!” She zipped up her lunch bag and stood, waiting, while I tossed my trash. As we walked toward the door, she said, “I hope you all wear ear plugs, though, because I scream my head off at scary movies.”
“I’ll be screaming too,” I joked, adding, “but in a manly way, of course. It’ll be much more of an aaahhh! than an eeekkk!”
She laughed as the bell sounded. “Good, because I’ll need someone manly to hold my hand if I get too scared.” She bit her lip and shot me a coy look, waiting for my reaction.
I wanted to howl with joy. “As long as you don’t mind a tough guy with super‑buttery popcorn fingers. Or maybe even . . . a dead guy.” I made a scary face, turning my hands into claws and trudging toward her as if I were a zombie. She ran toward school, laughing and screaming.
Life was froggin’ great.
NINETEEN
I BUZZED ALONG ON A LUCY HIGH ALL AFTERNOON. I couldn’t wait until Friday night. I’d already mentioned the movie to Charlie and Reed, and they had both agreed to go. Although Reed seemed skeptical, he didn’t ask if I talked to Lucy about Flip. My only hope was that Lucy’s friends could come too, or she might change her mind if it was only me and two other guys. Or maybe she’d like that. Who knew? Girls were so hard to figure out.
On another great note, Dad made an amazing dinner: marinated venison with a side of mashed potatoes. Oh, and some creamed spinach that I pretty much ignored. When dinner was over, Dad picked up his plate and brought it to the sink. “Maddie, it’s your night to load the dishwasher. Mercer, let’s get outside. We only have about two hours before dark. Tonight we’re adding whistles to the plan. I’m interested to see how Flip does with this.”
“He’s going to rock,” I said, not entirely believing it myself.
“It can go either way,” Dad explained. “All birds have their own unique blend of personality quirks. You have to find out what works with each one to get them to cooperate.”