Major Crush(21)
Author: Jennifer Echols

I folded my arms on my chest. “Good luck.”

He looked at me like he wanted something else from me. But I didn’t have anything more to give him just then. Except the SA T book.

Dad,and I watched the car climb the brick driveway. Little cotton fibers hung in the bright, still air and glinted in the sun.

“He seems like a nice boy,” Dad said.

“He is not a nice boy. He just acted that way this morning because he’s delirious.”

“You might give him a break. He’s going through a hard time with his family right now.”

A hard time? Letting down the Morrow family drum major legacy? “What kind of hard time?” I asked. Then I remembered what Drew had told me on the bus about why he hadn’t bothered to figure out which twin he was dating. He was distracted by stuff going on at home.

Dad shook his head. “If he hasn’t told you, I can’t tell you.”

Drew ’s mother was Dads patient. Dad couldn’t give away his patients’ secrets. I considered all the things that could be wrong with Drew’s mother that would give Drew a hard time at home. Ovarian cancer. Breast cancer. I asked, “Is she going to die?”

Dad blinked. “No. Just give him a break, would you? Forgive and forget?”

Dad was asking me to give Drew a break. But I knew what he meant. Dad wanted a break for himself.

Drew was out of school Monday and Tuesday. The Evil Twins were out too. I was very thankful I didn’t have to deal with them without Drew there to run interference for me. A nd I was glad they’d missed their hot date at the Rent 2 Own.

But I was jealous of their germs. I wondered what Drew had done with the twins to give them strep, and when. Then I remembered that it had been going around school for weeks. A nd when Luther came down with it on Wednesday, I felt much better.

Except that Drew was still acting like the whole hand thing hadn’t happened. He was nice to me like he was supposed to be. He even flirted with me a little during practice, and seemed hurt when I didn’t flirt back.

I lived for him to flirt with me, and I wanted so badly to flirt back. I lived for him to touch me there and there when we practiced the dip.

But I felt used. He still hadn’t broken up with the twins. What did he think I was, some trashy hand-slut? I felt like he’d taken advantage of me for a good time and then dumped me. But he hadn’t taken advantage of me. He’d hardly done anything. A nd I couldn’t decide whether that made it better or worse. Which made me even madder.

Everyone was back at school on Friday, in time for homecoming. Sure enough, A llison was a candidate for Miss Homecoming/Miss Victory.

So was Tracey Reardon.

I couldn’t believe it. People hated the twins. Or maybe they just hated Cacey. But as I asked around, I found out that one or both of them had run a one-woman or two-woman public relations campaign of their own. They got some credit because they dated Drew, who was high profile. Plus, lots of boys apparently thought the mean A vril-Lavigne-on-steroids attitude was a turn-on.

The announcement came at the end of my English class, just before lunch on Friday. A llison got the most votes. She was Miss Homecoming.

Tracey was next. She was Miss Victory.

A t the bell I rushed out of the room and down to the lunchroom, where I always met A llison. She waved and grinned at me from way down the hall. Then, as I watched, one of the twins stopped her, said something to her, and flounced away.

A llison didn’t react. She started walking again as if nothing had happened. A nd then, when I reached her, I saw that her eyes were hard.

“What did she say to you?” I breathed.

A llison shook her head. “I hate this town, I hate this town, I hate this town.”

“Oh, God, A llison. What did she say to you?”

A llison licked her perfect lipstick. She said woodenly, “‘Tracey Reardon isn’t going to be Miss Victory. A white girl doesn’t have to take a black girls leavings.’”

I went cold in the crowded, muggy hallway. A ll I could think of to say was, “Ick!” Then, “She’s Miss Icktory.”

A llison didn’t laugh. She still looked stunned.

I pushed her into the lunchroom and through the line. I even loaded her salad plate for her, avoiding the beets. A t one of the tables Drew laughed with Luther, Barry, and the other trombones. I shoved A llison along in front of me and sat her down there.

This was partly chance. There happened to be a couple of empty seats at the end of their table, probably because everyone was afraid of the trombones poking fun at them. But I also wanted Drew to know what his twins had done. I told the whole table what had happened.

“She said that?” Drew asked incredulously.

Luther reached across the table and whacked Drew on the arm. “You’re dating a racist.”

“You don’t know that.” Drew turned to A llison. “Which one of the twins said it?”

She shrugged.

“Why does it matter which one said it?” I asked him. “What will that tell you? You don’t even know which one you’re dating.”

“I do know which one I’m dating,” he said triumphantly. “I figured that out this morning in homeroom. I know I’m dating the one who isn’t on the homecoming court. I’m dating Cacey.”

The trombones clapped for him.

He turned to A llison again. “What exactly did she say?”

I had been worried about A llison, but now I felt better. She came back to life and got angry. Her voice louder with every word, she repeated,

“‘Tracey Reardon. Isn’t going to be. Miss Victory. A white girl. Doesn’t have to take. A black girl’s. Leavings!’”

“A bjure,” I said under my breath to Drew.

He didn’t look at me, but I knew from the way his jaw tightened that he’d heard me.

“If she said Tracey Reardon,’ then she must have been Cacey,” Luther pointed out. “Drew, you have to break up with—” His voice trailed off.

My heart beat faster at the thought that Drew was going to break up with her. He was finally going to break up with her! He was as good as mine!

Then I saw that Drew had borrowed Mr. Rush’s brain-melting stare and was giving it to Luther.

“It wasn’t necessarily Cacey,” Barry joined in helpfully. “It might have been Tracey. She could have referred to herself in the third person like small children do. Like Elmo on Sesame Street.”

“Right. Let s think about this scientifically,” said Luther. He instructed Barry to get out his notebook and draw a grid. Then he asked A llison,