Major Crush(27)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“Nnnn,” I said, waving my hand between them. One could learn much from Mr. Rush. If one could stop oneself from saying “shit.” I stood and let Drew pull me toward the aisle, away from Walter.

We faced the field so Drew could watch the game. Or so Walter couldn’t see what we said. Drew put his arm around my waist so the band could see we were friends. Or so Walter would think we were more.

Drew said, “Walter has to go.”

“But it’s homecoming. A nd he’s home.”

“Virginia. Nobody in band gets to sit with their date during fourth quarter. That’s why we get third quarter off.”

“He’s not my—” I stopped. I guessed Walter was my date. I wasn’t sure. Technically, there had been no receipt of corsage.

I glanced behind me at Cacey up in the stands. Or the other one, whichever. She stared me down, trying to freeze me with her super-villain ice-vision.

She overflowed with corsage. This sucker was a huge chrysanthemum with all the bells and whistles—ribbons, golden plastic footballs, pipe cleaners shaped into the school letters.

I turned back to Drew. “Walter hasn’t been gone that long. He’s really still part of the band.”

“Then he should be in his section, with the drums.”

“He can’t do that. He’s not in band anymore.”

“Then send him out. Don’t try to argue logic backward and forward with me, Virginia. I just took the SA T.”

He had me; A nd Td had enough. “What do you care if he sits down here with me?”

“You know you wouldn’t let Cacey sit down here with me.”

“Of course I would. Let’s call her down. Walter and I would enjoy the pleasure of her company.”

Drew slipped his hand to my hip and bent his head closer to mine. “Look, Virginia. I’m discussing this with you calmly. I’m not stepping on your toes. I’m doing what I agreed to do in the meeting this afternoon with Mr. Rush. But in a minute, I’ll start yelling.”

“A ll right!” I yelled. A s I approached Walter, he stood. “Patton wants me out?”

I stopped myself from asking him again not to call Drew that. I was again beginning to think it fit. “Sorry,” I said.

“You don’t have to obey him, you know. You’re drum major too.”

“I told you. I’m trying to get along with him.”

“I know you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and moved toward the student section across the aisle from the band. “I’ll see you after.”

I couldn’t wait.

A fter the game A llison and I went home to change.. Walter waited at A llison’s house rather than mine because her parents liked him better.

This was perfect for my purposes. It made sense for the three of us to ride together to Barry Ekrivay’s party a mile around the lakeshore.

Otherwise, A llison would have taken her car, and Walter and I would have ridden together. A lone.

More good luck: When she got into the car, A llison sat on Walter’s corsage. Now I wouldn’t have to make a bad excuse about how wearing it would poke a hole in my Tshirt.

That’s where my luck ran out. My heart sank as I drove near Barry s house and saw how far away I’d have to park to get a place on the side of the road. I’d hope it would be a small party, so fewer people would see me with Walter. But Barry didn’t throw small parties.

With every step down the driveway, I felt more nauseated. But there was nothing else to do. I put a smile on my face before I walked into the house crowded with the entire band and lots more people from school.

I kept telling myself that no one would notice Walter and I were together. A fter all, I’d driven him to parties before. Nothing had changed. Let me repeat: There had been no official receipt of corsage.

Something had changed. Gator Smith stopped me and congratulated me on “finally hooking up.” Then Tonya, Paula, and Michelle called me over and told me that Walter was “soooo cuuuuuuuuuute!” Oh, dear.

It wasn’t that I was embarrassed to date Walter, himself. Tonya, Paula, and Michelle were right. He was very cute. A nd he was fun to watch as he walked around the party. He just laughed when the trombones quizzed him on his beard and the drums called him “bus boy.” He was only a sophomore, but he carried himself well around the seniors. Which was better than I could do half the time.

It was more a feeling of complete revulsion. My head told me that Walter and I would make a good couple. Despite my head, my body flinched when he touched me. But maybe this was normal for new couples, and as time passed, people got over the vague feeling of nausea.

Like I knew!

A nd oh, let’s not forget that I wanted to keep myself open for Drew. Who did not even seem to be at the party. Who must have been off having a private moment with Cacey.

I had a couple of tricks to keep the pressure off. I tried to get A llison to stay with Walter and me. Sometimes I lost Walter in the crowd. When he found me, I suggested that we also find A llison because she was there alone.

A llison flitted from group to group. I needed her to cling to me, and I tried to communicate this to her with special looks. But there’s just so much you can get across with gritted teeth and a raised eyebrow, even to your best friend.

My other trick was to haunt the buffet. Yes, there was actually a catered buffet set up in the kitchen. Dad always said Mr. Ekrivay threw money at his children to make up for leaving their mother. I thought Dad had a lot of nerve to say this.

A nyway, the buffet was very good, and I’d skipped lunch. I’d eaten a huge supper, but I was trying to get away from Walter here. I went back so many times that Barry, who refilled the trays from boxes in the refrigerator, probably thought I was coming on to him.

On my seventeenth return to the rec room with my mouth full, A llison tried to tell me something. We were near the stereo speakers, and I couldn’t hear her. I thought she said she was leaving.

Panic! She couldn’t leave. What if Barry ran out of food?

She motioned toward the front door. I followed her out onto the porch. Walter followed me.

The huge porch was packed with outdoor furniture. The furniture was packed with people making out. I spotted Gator Smith and Elke Villa, who I guess had settled whatever problems the Evil Twins had brought up between them.

Juliet Ekrivay was there too, with a senior football player. For shame. She was only in the ninth grade. But I’d had an unusually chaste ninth grade myself. A nd it was her porch.