Major Crush(25)
Author: Jennifer Echols

he gestured to Mr. Rush—“you keep threatening to fire me. Was I supposed to win the third contest? Would that have been good enough?”

“Don’t take it personally, Morrow,” said Mr. Rush. “I was only manipulating you.”

Drew didn’t react to what Mr. Rush said. He looked straight ahead, through Mr. Rush. “My granddad worked his whole life in the cotton mill.

My dad has worked his whole life in the cotton mill. There was no way I was going to work in that cotton mill, ever.”

He closed his eyes, took in a long breath, and let it out slowly. His shoulders sagged. He said quietly, “I wanted to go to veterinary school.”

“Lots of people go to the junior college for the first two years, to save money,” I suggested. “Then they transfer to A uburn.”

“Both my brothers went to the junior college,” Drew said, nodding. “A nd do you know what they’re doing now?”

I winced. “Working in the cotton mill?”

“They’re working in the cotton mill!” He was shaking. I wondered if his father had ever allowed him to get this upset in his life.

Drew said to the filing cabinet behind Mr. Rush, “God, they keep after me all the time, telling me what to do, and telling me how irresponsible I am. Sometimes I start to believe it. I should go ahead and get a job in the mill. It’s inevitable anyway, right? Drop out of school. Move in with my brother. Send my parents money to pay them back for raising me. Help finance their new push to populate the earth.”

I looked at Mr. Rush in alarm.

He shook his head at me: Don’t worry.

Don’t worry! I put my hand over Drew’s trembling hand on the edge of his chair, and squeezed, and didn’t let go. Then I asked Mr. Rush,

“Did they teach you to do this in your education classes in college?”

“No,” Mr. Rush said. “In fact, if my advisor saw this, she’d shit right now.”

“You’re not listening to me!” Drew shouted.

“Yes, we are,” Mr. Rush said in a soothing psychiatrist voice I’d never heard from him. Like he’d learned something in his education classes after all.

“No, you’re not,” Drew said. “You’re from Big Pine. Big Pine doesn’t have a cotton mill.”

“Big Pine has a paper mill,” Mr. Rush said in the same low voice. “My dad works in the paper mill.”

I saw then that Mr. Rush might talk tough to Drew, and Drew might lash back at Mr. Rush, but they got from each other something they didn’t get from the men in their families.

They understood each other.

In his normal voice Drew said, “I feel … better.” He squeezed my hand back and looked over at me, half-smiling.

“Isn’t that amazing?” Mr. Rush said. “Talking about your feelings helps you let go of your anger. A nd it takes a lot of energy to be angry all the time.”

“You should know,” I said.

“I’m working on it. I need to work on it some more because Martineaux thinks I’m a nutcase.”

I jumped as the heavy door to the band room crashed open. The line of boys dropped instrument cases on the floor with periodic thunks, and a saxophone player warmed up with scales and arpeggios. Just like the day in Drew’s truck, it had seemed for the last half hour like the world had been shut out, and there was no one but me and Drew.

A nd—oh yeah—our insane band director.

Mr. Rush stood up behind his desk. But I wasn’t ready to go. I couldn’t bare my feelings to Drew (and our insane band director), and listen to Drew bare his feelings to me (and our insane band director), and suddenly face the band again like snapping my fingers. I didn’t think Drew could either.

I let Drew’s hand go and slipped my arm protectively around him.

Mr. Rush got my message. “I’ll be in big trouble if I let you make out in my office.”

“I feel fed up,” I told him. “Would you please stop saying that Drew and I are making out or feeling each other up? Would you please stop trying to trick Drew into saying he thinks I’m pretty? Drew and I are friends. Just friends.”

Mr. Rush gave me the stare.

A nd this time I had to look away.

He stood there for a moment more. Just long enough to make me feel as uncomfortable as possible. Then he said, “I’ll go direct band practice. Remember the band? The marching band?” He opened the office door, letting in the giggles of freshman girls and the loud honks of the trombone chasing them. “Come out when you’re ready.” He closed the door behind him.

When Mr. Rush was with us and I’d held Drew’s hand, I was just trying to hold Drew steady. Now that Drew and I were alone again, the tingle returned. I rubbed my hand on his back, and fire shot up my arm.

He took several long, slow breaths, like he was trying to collect himself. Then he turned to me. His dark eyes glistened. He said again, “I feel better.”

I reached out a finger to touch a tear at the corner of his lashes.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.. Then he looked around on the floor beneath his chair.

“Did you lose your shoes again?” I asked.

“No, my bravado.” He laughed. “I know I left it around here somewhere.”

A llison looked beautiful reigning over the homecoming float, and of course she had the pageant smile and the pageant wave down pat. Sure enough, Tracey refused to ride on the float as Miss Victory. Good riddance. The homecoming committee pulled the crepe paper letters spelling MISS VICTORY out of the chicken wire on the back of the float and replaced them with white toilet paper before the parade started.

The parade went great. The band sounded terrific, and the crowd cheered wildly as we passed through the downtown streets, as if we did not suck. Drew and I were relieved because we hadn’t practiced the parade formation very much. We’d been too busy perfecting the halftime show for the contest the next weekend.

Then, at the homecoming game, the halftime show went great. This was the first game our hometown crowd had seen us in non-suck-o mode. When Drew and I did the dip, I felt the force of the crowd’s noise hit me in the side of the face. A nd at the end of the show, they went crazy again. The standing ovation was longer and louder than the one in Llama Town.

Drew and I brought up the rear of the band marching off the field. A s soon as we passed through the fence, we turned to each other and grabbed each other in a long hug.

Even though we did not like each other as more than friends. Because Drew was dating Miss Icktory s twin sister.