The One That I Want(28)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“I’m sorry about what I said to you,” I blurted. “I didn’t mean it. I guess I got really mad at you for understanding so much about me. You got a little too close for comfort. Like you said, knowing what your problems are doesn’t always help you solve them, and I—”

“Gemma,” he interrupted me. “I do want to hear this story, but can we talk about it later? I’m on the phone with Addison.”

I was so surprised that I let the silence stretch way too long.

I’d thought our relationship was important to him, but I was just his date’s friend after all.

“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. See ya.” He hung up.

I stared at my phone until my vision blurred with tears. Then I lay back on the bed and stared at the blurry lines of beadboard in the ornate dropped ceiling. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep and forget it all.

But I hadn’t practiced baton yet, except during band period at school. I’d taught fourth graders at the baton studio, but I was just showing them simple stuff like vertical spins. If I wasn’t perfecting my illusions, which I loved to do now that my thighs had shrunk, I didn’t feel like I’d practiced at all.

I snuck down into the dark yard, intending to practice only until midnight. But the more I tried not to think about Max, the angrier I got, and the faster I twirled. I stayed out until one.

* * *

All week at school, I worried about my upcoming date with Carter and Addison’s date with Max. People I vaguely knew continued to stop me in the hall and ask me in a friendly way if I was really dating the quarterback from East. One day during band practice, Delilah even whispered that she’d heard I’d made out with him—was that true? The only possible source of this rumor was Addison. And since Delilah managed to make everything sound like a compliment, I couldn’t tell whether Addison had spread this information to help me or hurt me.

Though I could take a guess. The vote for head majorette–elect was coming up in less than two weeks. If rumors were circulating about me, then Mrs. Baxter would think I wasn’t keeping my nose clean.

On Friday I still hadn’t heard the plan for our date that night. During a lull in band practice, when the director stood way up in the stands and made minute adjustments to the trombones standing in a curlicue on the football field, I slipped my phone from my pocket and checked my messages. Nothing. The idea of Carter calling me made my stomach go south, but I wanted to know whether we still had a date. More importantly, I wanted to know whether I would ever see Max again.

Addison walked over from her place on the thirty-five yard line to my place on the forty and plopped down beside me in the grass. “Ready for tonight? It sounds like a bore to me.”

I was loath to admit she knew something I didn’t, but that had been the case all along with us and these boys. “I haven’t talked to Carter,” I said. “Where are we going?”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “We’re seeing some kung fu movie at the Fox and getting coffee after. We need to hint that Carter should start coming up with these dates, not Max.”

I suppressed a laugh. The Fox was a gorgeous 1920s theater not far from where we lived. When it wasn’t hosting concerts or plays, it showed classic movies. Trust Max to find the most offbeat movie they showed. It sounded like a blast to me.

If Carter planned our date? Wow, it sounded like a chain restaurant and a blockbuster movie to me. What a yawn. Addison would love it.

“So Max called you?” I asked. “That’s great, right?”

She shook her head. “No, I got a text from Carter today.”

“But Max called you earlier in the week, right?”

“No, why?”

“Oh. I just figured he would, since he kissed you after the concert,” I said casually, even though my heart was pounding. Max had lied to me Friday night when he said he was on the phone with Addison. He’d been trying to make me jealous. Which must mean he liked me!

After that initial spike of adrenaline, though, I talked myself down off the ledge. He could have been trying to make me jealous, or more likely, he was angry that I’d yelled at him. He’d probably been mad and hadn’t wanted to talk to me when I’d called to apologize.

That was all.

“It was the lamest kiss ever,” Addison was saying. “I get a sexier kiss than that from my grandpa.”

Despite the fact that I’d talked myself out of thinking Max liked me, it made me happy that their kiss had been no big deal. If she hadn’t gotten into it, maybe he hadn’t either.

“But you”—she tapped my cell phone on my knee—“have been getting calls from Carter, right?”

“No.” I tried not to sound relieved about that. “Why?”

“Because it’s totally rude of him to ignore you after the way y’all were swapping slobber last Friday.”

She watched me to see if I reacted. I gave her my majorette grin. The very idea that she was spreading rumors about Carter and me made my stomach hurt. But if I let her see that, she would know what bothered me, and she would do more of it.

Standing up and brushing the grass off her butt, she said, “I’m gonna go talk to Susan,” without even trying to disguise that talking to me bored her. Susan was the head majorette. Addison made the rounds every day, ingratiating herself to all the majorettes so she could get their votes for head-elect. She was wasting a lot of energy if you asked me. There was no way I would be chosen, and Delilah only had a chance if she stopped turning ashen every time the band started the opening number.

Robert plopped down beside me the instant Addison stepped away, as if he’d been hovering, waiting for his opportunity. “Hey, Gemma.” With a giant nod, he gave his dyed-black hair a toss out of his eyes.

I just stared at him for a moment. He had a lot of nerve trying to share my forty yard line without asking. “Hey,” I said warily.

“Want to go out tonight?”

I had waited two whole years to hear those words, and Robert asked nonchalantly, like he was asking to borrow a dollar.

I wasn’t happy about the prospect of another night tolerating Carter and pining for Max, but it sure was nice to be able to tell Robert I had other things to do. “I have plans.”

“With that quarterback?” he asked. “I heard about that. But y’all aren’t serious, are you? How about tomorrow night?”