Crushing It

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Crushing It Page 12

by Joanne Levy


  “I know, Dad. We understand. Sort of. But does it have to be so much? We miss you, and some days . . .” My throat got really tight choking out the words.

  Dad took my hand in his big, warm one. “Kat? Some days what?”

  “Some days Mom looks really sad.”

  He was quiet for so long that I had to look up at him. His eyes looked sad now, and I had to glance away or I was going to start bawling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He squeezed my hand. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re one hundred percent right. I haven’t been putting my family first. That stops today.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really,” he said, tugging my hand. “Undo your seat belt so you can give me a hug.”

  I clicked the button and laughed when my dad pulled me into his arms. He squished me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe.

  “Let me go,” I said.

  “In a minute,” he said, but then did let me go after a final squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Kat.”

  I shrugged. “We all make mistakes, right?”

  “Where did you get all your smarts from?” he asked, smirking at me.

  “Mom, obviously.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’d better get inside. Let’s see if we can fix this thing with Tyler, too.”

  Ugh. Something told me that was going to be a lot harder than giving my father a dose of tough love.

  Chapter 21

  AS WE GOT OUT OF the car, I tried to take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I desperately wanted to see Tyler but was at the same time completely terrified to see him. I know that seems crazy, but my brain was all jumbled with stress over what had happened, and I was so worried he’d never forgive me. Dad seemed to think he would; I just hoped he was right.

  He pulled the door open, letting out the sounds of dogs barking. We walked down the hallway until we got to a doorway marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, and Dad stopped. “I’ll be back in the clinic doing surgeries for most of the day, but come get me when you’re done, all right?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He gave me a quick side hug. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, secretly thankful for the hug and the little pep talk. He left me there in the hall, so I took a deep breath and headed down to sign in and get my badge. I suddenly worried that Tyler hadn’t come at all. Maybe he wanted to avoid me so badly that he’d bail on volunteering.

  Yet with each step I realized more and more that he wouldn’t do that. Tyler is the kind of person who doesn’t bail on things, no matter how uncomfortable.

  So when I got to the desk and signed in, I wasn’t surprised to see his name on the line above where I put mine.

  “Your friend beat you in this morning,” Justine said as she walked up to the desk. “Sorry, but that means you’re on kennel duty today.”

  I nodded, feeling like I deserved to clean up poop after what I’d done to Tyler. “He’s already out walking?” I asked.

  “Yep, got here early,” she said. “He’s a nice boy.”

  “He sure is,” I agreed, putting down the pen and taking my badge from her hand.

  “You know where everything is?” Justine asked.

  I nodded and put on my badge.

  “Don’t forget the rubber boots,” she said.

  If I hadn’t already been somewhat convinced that Tyler hated me, four hours later I totally was. He’d come and gone several times, taking dogs out for walks while I cleaned kennels, and not once had he even looked at me, let alone talked to me. I tried to catch his eye a couple of times, but it was obvious he was avoiding me, so I gave up, throwing myself into cleaning.

  Tyler put away his last dog of the day as I was removing the rubber boots, goggles, and smock. I took my time, not wanting to run into him at the volunteer desk as we signed out and handed back our badges. By the time I went out there, he was gone, so I finished up and then went to find my dad. We left by the back door and drove around the building, where Tyler was standing at the bus stop.

  “Isn’t that Tyler?” Dad asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It didn’t go well, I presume.”

  “He hates my guts.”

  Without another word Dad pulled to the end of the lot—right at the street, so that Tyler was just a few feet from my side of the car—and pushed the button to make my window go down.

  “What are you doing?” I sputtered at Dad, but he decided not to hear me.

  He leaned toward me instead. “Tyler!” he yelled out the window. “Come on, get in.”

  Tyler shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll take the bus.”

  “Aren’t you going home?” Dad said.

  “He said he was going to take the bus,” I said quietly without moving my lips or taking my eyes off the windshield in front of me.

  “Yeah. It’s okay, though,” Tyler said.

  “Don’t be silly,” my father—the most infuriating man on the planet—said. “Get in. We don’t bite.”

  I might bite you, I thought. But then, as I sat there holding my breath, I saw out of the corner of my eye when Tyler realized he was beat. He trudged toward the car and opened the door behind me.

  “Thanks,” Tyler said. Of course, his voice made it obvious that the last place in the world he wanted to be was in the car with me.

  “How was your day today?” Dad asked. I was thankful that he was at least willing to make conversation with Tyler, since he had made this the most awkward drive ever.

  “Pretty good. I walked a lot of dogs.”

  “Did you take Daisy out? The Jack Russell mix?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s that back leg?”

  “She was limping a little, but it didn’t seem to slow her down.”

  I sat there and listened to them talk about the different dogs, and then they switched to football for a while. I kept my mouth shut, because the more they talked, the less tense Tyler seemed to be. In fact, by the time we pulled into our driveway, he sounded almost normal. At least until we got out of the car.

  Dad practically sprinted for the front door. I knew he was leaving us alone so we could talk. Once he disappeared inside the house, I called out Tyler’s name; but he was halfway to his own door.

  He froze and then slowly turned back to face me. Okay, so his not completely ignoring me was a good sign. Score one for Kat.

  “Can we talk about what happened?” I said, walking across the lawn toward him.

  He pursed his lips.

  “Please? I need to tell you—”

  He held up his hand to stop me.

  “No, Kat. I don’t think so.”

  “But we’re best friends,” I said, my voice squeaky.

  “Best friends don’t trick each other. Best friends don’t do what you did.” He shook his head. “I can’t talk to you. Not now, Kat.”

  As I stood there, he walked away from me. Again.

  Chapter 22

  ABOUT AN HOUR LATER I was sitting at the desk in the kitchen, furiously working on Hector: Ninja Cat to try to get my mind off Tyler, when Dad came along and put his hand on my shoulder. “Your mom and I are going out to a movie. We’d invite you, but you’re still grounded.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to go to a movie anyway, but I was glad that Dad was spending the rest of the afternoon with Mom. “Okay. Have fun.”

  “Laura did laundry earlier, so you’re on deck to do some raking this afternoon. Leaf bags are in the shed.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Sorry about Tyler,” Dad said. “I tried. I hoped he’d come around.”

  I stared down at my artwork and shrugged, not sure what else to say.

  “Keep at him. He just needs some time to start missing you, and then he’ll let you explain you never meant to hurt him.”

  “I guess.”

  “You ready?” Mom asked as she came into the kitchen with her jacket on and her purse over her shoulder. She had a smile on her face, making me glad I’d work
ed up the courage to talk to Dad.

  “Sure am,” Dad said. “I was just letting Kat know about the leaves.”

  “Okay, let’s go. We’ll bring home dinner after,” Mom said, looking at me. “How does Thai sound?”

  “Great. Sweet soy noodles, please,” I said, suddenly feeling a little better. I loved Thai food almost as much as I loved pizza.

  Dad gave my shoulder one last squeeze. “See you later, Kat. By the way, your comic looks great. Just don’t get caught up in it—those leaves won’t rake themselves.”

  “Thanks,” I said, flushing at his compliment, and pushed back from the desk as I heard them leave. He was right to worry that I might get caught up in working on my manga. Best to get my chore out of the way.

  I grabbed a hoodie and put it on before I made my way out the back to the shed. I collected the rake and the big paper bags to stuff the leaves into and then slipped on a pair of gardening gloves as I surveyed the yard. Most of the leaves came from the big oak tree, the one between my house and Tyler’s. I started on the far side of the backyard and made my way toward the tree, dragging the leaves over into a pile under the mostly empty branches.

  I thought about my manga as I raked, working out the illustrations that would go along with the story, and was surprised when, a while later, I looked down at what was now a huge pile of leaves sitting under the tree. I had a sudden urge to text Tyler to come out so we could jump in the pile from our favorite low branch. Except that he wouldn’t answer my text if I did.

  I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket just in case, but there was only one message from Olivia asking something about our homework. I messaged her and said I’d get back to her after I was done in the yard, then slipped the phone back in my pocket.

  As I grabbed the handle of the rake again, I looked up and noticed Tyler’s bedroom window was open a little. I thought about climbing the tree and yelling at him until he came to the window, but that didn’t seem like a great idea. Still, I had to figure out a way to get him to listen to me and understand that I was sorry. Dad had said to give him time, but I didn’t want to wait: What if he forgot about how we used to be best friends before I’d screwed everything up?

  As I stared up, I suddenly had the best idea.

  Chapter 23

  IT HAD BEEN A WHILE since I’d climbed the tree, but my hands still seemed to remember where all the best branches were, and I was up to the big one near Tyler’s window in no time. I secured myself, slid my backpack off my shoulders, and opened it to take out the envelope containing a page of Hector: Ninja Cat. It was my very best illustration, and a tiny part of me didn’t want to give it up, but most of me was okay with it if it meant I would get my best friend back. When I’d taken the page out of my book, I’d planned to write my apology on the illustration, but thought better of it and instead wrote it on a big sticky note, then slid it all into one of Dad’s big envelopes.

  I hung the backpack on a smaller branch and shimmied over toward Tyler’s window. I couldn’t see him in the room, but his bed was against the outside wall, so he could have been sitting there and I wouldn’t have known. I took a deep breath and leaned toward the window, as close as I safely could. Then I reached out and pushed the envelope through the opening. I waited for what felt like hours to see if Tyler would retrieve it, but I didn’t hear a sound, so either he was still ignoring me or he wasn’t in his room.

  With a sigh I grabbed my backpack, put it over my shoulders, and started down the tree again. I stopped at the last big branch, took out my phone, and opened up a message to him.

  Kat: there’s something in your room. Please look at it.

  Tyler: . . .

  I sat there on the branch waiting for his message to finish until my butt got so sore that I couldn’t stand it. Then I put the phone away and dropped into the big pile of leaves, trying not to scatter them too much, since I’d just have to rake them up again.

  Jumping in leaves is no fun to do on your own.

  I took off my backpack and put it just inside the back door so I could return to my raking.

  “Kat?”

  I whipped around to see Tyler standing there, his hands in his jeans pockets, a weird look on his face.

  He didn’t look mad, but he wasn’t exactly smiling, either. I wasn’t sure what to say, but his name slipped out of my mouth. “Ty . . .”

  “I liked your drawing,” he said. “It looks good. No, not just good—really amazing.”

  “Thanks,” I said, loving that he thought so.

  “Um . . .”

  I just stared at him, holding my breath as I waited for him to say whatever was coming next.

  “I . . . So I read your note.”

  “I really am sorry,” I blurted out, because I couldn’t wait one more second. “We . . . I . . . it was stupid what we did, and the last thing I meant to do was hurt you or make you mad at me.”

  He nodded. “I just don’t understand why you wanted me to be with her so bad that you would lie.”

  I shrugged, feeling my face getting really hot, but I simply couldn’t tell him the truth. I would die before admitting that I’d thought getting them together would get rid of my crush on him, that we could go back to being just friends. Anyway, as I stood there, looking at the leaves under my shoes, I realized that getting him together with Olivia never would have made my crush go away—how stupid had I been to think for a second that it would have?

  “I don’t know,” I said, kicking a few leaves toward the pile. “It made sense at the time. I thought you’d like her. She’s the kind of girl all guys like.”

  He exhaled and looked away. “Don’t you get it, Kat?”

  “Don’t I get what?”

  He cleared his throat. And then he coughed and cleared his throat a second time. I was about to ask him if he needed a cough drop or something when he blurted out, “I like you.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out as I stared at him, his words sinking in.

  He still hadn’t looked at me, but his eyes were now trained on the ground. His voice was quiet when he said, “Did you hear me?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “You’d better say it again.”

  His face was really pink as he came toward me. “I can’t believe you thought for a second that I’d pick her over you, and then you even tried to make her into you.”

  Was that what I’d done? “But she’s so tall. And pretty. And bubbly.”

  “She’s not you,” he said. He was coming so close; if it had been anyone else, I would have stepped away. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was him.

  “She’s graceful and doesn’t have glasses or braces.”

  “She isn’t you,” he repeated, his eyes on mine.

  “You like me?” I whispered.

  He snorted. “How many times do I have to say it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe once more.”

  He smiled, his eyes dropping away from mine. “Do you like me, Kat?”

  My heart was racing in my chest, and it was hard to breathe, but the dread I’d felt when I’d thought he hated my guts was replaced with a jittery, giddy feeling—like the time my parents told us we were going to Disney World.

  “Yes,” I said. “I do like you.”

  “More than a friend?” he asked, eyes still facing the ground.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  He looked up at me, and his face sort of fell. “What?”

  “I don’t know what that’s supposed to feel like,” I said, confused. “I mean, I want to be best friends again and play Zombie Slashers and talk manga and books with you, more than anything. But that’s friends, isn’t it?”

  “Best friends,” he said. “But . . . do you like me like me?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Maybe I don’t know the difference.”

  He leaned forward and grabbed my hand. It was kind of like when we were dancing, but a million times better: He was holding my hand because he wanted to (plus, my mom wasn’t watch
ing). I noticed that his hand wasn’t as sweaty this time. It felt nice. Weird and a bit scary, but mostly really nice. I thought about Olivia, and how holding her hand would never, ever feel like this.

  I was suddenly very, very sure. “Okay, I think I understand now. And yes, I like you like you.”

  “Good,” Tyler said, grinning as he squeezed my hand and pulled me closer. “I can’t wait to beat my girlfriend at Zombie Slashers.”

  I laughed. “You can try to beat your girlfriend at Zombie Slashers.”

  “Looking forward to it,” he said right before he leaned forward and gave me a kiss on my cheek. It was actually almost my ear, so I heard it more than felt it, but I hadn’t expected it and leaned back away from him.

  “Sorry,” he said, suddenly looking panicked.

  “It’s okay,” I said, my face heating up because it was very okay that he’d kissed me, but it was still a little embarrassing. “I was just surprised, and it was kind of loud, that’s all.”

  “Right,” he said, that piece of hair falling over his forehead distractingly. “Maybe I should try it again?”

  I nodded. “You should definitely try it again,” I said. “But first I need to finish these leaves or I’m going to be in big trouble. I’m already grounded.”

  Tyler let go of my one hand and took the rake from the other as he grinned at me. “We’d better get started, then, Kat,” he said as he started raking.

  “I like the way you think, Ty,” I said, grabbing a leaf bag to hold open for my best friend—er . . . boyfriend.

  Acknowledgments

  SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT WRITING Acknowledgments for a book is harder than writing the actual book. Those some people are right. I have so many people to thank for everything that has led to you holding this book in your hands and I have done a lot of worrying to make sure I haven’t missed anyone, so hopefully I haven’t.

  Starting with the people who very directly made this book happen, beginning with Caryn Wiseman, who is truly a hardworking and clever agent—thank you for your faith in me and your tireless efforts.

  To Amy Cloud, who took a chance on me and has been an amazing editor from day one (and who totally gets me, even at my dorkiest), my most heartfelt thanks. Another thank-you to the other fine folks at Simon & Schuster (NY): Mandy Veloso, Sarah Kwak, Laura Lyn DiSiena, Karen Sherman, and artist Angela Li, who illustrated the cutest cover ever, right down to Ty’s mysterious hair! Another shout-out to the folks at Simon & Schuster Canada, who love their local authors (and it shows!).

 

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