Page 43
Story: The Perfect Hit
Holding out a bag of Almond Joy candy bars in one hand, I waited until she took it before handing her a note that said,It would be a ‘Joy’ to go to the spring dance with you.
She looked down at it and then back up at me, confused. Had I spelled something wrong? “This is it?”
I might have panicked for a few seconds and then nodded. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I finally answered you,” I said, glancing around the theater.
“I know it’s an answer, but you’re supposed to make a big deal about it. I mean, I asked you in front of the school.” Marcy had started using her hands, emphasizing each word and causing me to back up a step.
Frowning, I said, “I didn’t know there was a manual on how to answer someone.” The words sounded more like a hiss as I was trying to keep anyone else from overhearing our conversation.
She looked disappointed, and I had to shrug it off, knowing I could only do so much with what I had to work with.
“Okay,” she said, dropping the bag of candy on top of her backpack.
I could tell something was off and wondered what to do about it. I didn’t need to deal with another girl’s emotions. Hazel had already been all over the place as it was.
Luckily, play practice began, and I breathed out a sigh that our game had finished early enough to get there.
Hazel walked into the auditorium like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and that she hadn’t just stepped all over my heart. Inside, I was both furious and falling apart. Of course, the girl I liked wouldn’t like me back. But dating the new kid from California? That was more cliché than anything I’d been doing in trying to break boundaries.
We began working through each scene, and I tried to hold in my irritation. Marcy finally pushed me offstage when the others weren’t looking and asked, “What’s the problem?”
“I’m just having an off—"
“Are you two okay back here?” Hazel asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
Marcy leaned in, pressing her palm against my chest, and turned to glance at Hazel with a grin. “Of course. We’re just trying to get into character.”
My eyes went wide, and I saw that this might look a little more flirty than it was meant to be.
With her lips pinched, Hazel’s gaze darted between me and Marcy, a quick look of hurt flashing across her face. “Well, let’s get back to practice, then. We don’t have much time until the final performance.”
Once Hazel turned her back, I whirled around to face Marcy. “What was that?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Marcy asked, her eyes wider than the white lights above us.
“We’re going to the dance together, but that doesn’t mean we’re together.” I took a moment and breathed, knowing I needed to be a little more understanding when I continued. “I’m sorry, Marcy. I appreciate you helping me with my lines and guiding me through this process. And I’m excited about the dance, but I just wanted you to know that I like someone, and I don’t want to hurt you when I can’t return your feelings.”
Her jaw moved back and forth, and then a tear rolled down her cheek. “Okay, I appreciate your honesty. I just thought you were a lot different.”
I frowned, trying to understand where she’d gotten that impression. I’d only started talking to her a few weeks ago during the play, and she was acting as though she’d known me forever.
“A lot different than what?” I ventured.
“Than the rest of the guys at the school. You’re always doing nice things for the other girls and for Hazel. You open doors and help carry books…” She let her words trail off, and her eyes got wide again. “You like Hazel.”
“We’re just friends.”
Famous last words. I just hoped she didn’t do anything to permanently damage my relationship with my best friend.
27
Hazel
Iswallowed and opened my eyes to see what configuration Brynn had come up with this time. Between my schedule and Adam’s, we barely had time to figure out a costume, and I’d assigned it to Brynn since she’d gotten me into this mess in the first place.The idea of going to a dance made my brain short-circuit, and I was tempted to call Adam and tell him I was sick.
Brynn attached what looked to be a paper towel tube to my head, although she’d put some white paper around it with red lines down the sides.
“Why do I have a partial straw on my head?” I asked, laughing at the thought.
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