Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) (34 page)

“GOOD LUCK.” JILLY GAVE MY arm a squeeze as she left me near Mark’s locker Monday morning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t,” I said, “but I have to try something.”

My heart raced when I saw Mark walking down the hall with two guys I didn’t know too well. When he saw me he stopped, then
set his mouth in a straight line and kept coming.

“Can I talk to you?” I asked, stepping back as he opened his locker.

Mark glanced at one of the boys. “You do the algebra homework?”

I bit my lip. He was acting like I wasn’t even there.

“Do I ever do the algebra homework, bro?” the boy asked. He glanced at me, then back at Mark. “Want us to meet you later?”

“Nah,” Mark said, pulling out his books and closing his locker. “I’m done here.”

I stood there, staring at his locker, feeling like an idiot, feeling like a whole canyon had just opened up between us, not
just a dozen feet of linoleum.

Tuesday wasn’t much better than Monday. Mark ignored me in class and he and Tyler sat with some other people at lunch.

“I didn’t know he could hold a grudge,” I said to Rosie. “What else don’t I know?”

“Just give him space and a chance to get a reality check,” Rosie said.

After school we had an I-Club meeting. We were counting down to the big launch next month so everything was being checked
and double-checked. It was a good thing everyone was so busy. No one noticed that Mark and I never said a word to each other.

Except Reede.

“I feel a chill in the air,” she said as she leaned over my shoulder, watching as I made some color adjustments to the website
background.

“Yeah, well it’s not coming from me,” I said.

“Told you he’s into you,” Reede said. “But don’t worry, it’ll work out.”

“What will work out?” Serena sat down at the computer next to mine, pulling up the Contact Us page she was working on last
week.

“Nothing,” I said.

Serena clicked a few things on the screen. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Mark Sacks hasn’t been within
twenty feet of you all day?”

Okay, so maybe other people had noticed.

“Can we just focus on our pages?” I said.

When it was time to go, Mark and Tyler were the first two out the door. I gathered my stuff and told Rosie to save me a seat
on the activities bus.

Mr. F was pulling a trash can and bucket out of the custodian’s closet when I walked up. He looked down the hall, where Mark
stood with a group of guys. “It looks like there’s trouble between two of my favorite people.”

“I guess I blew it,” I said. “Somehow I sent him the wrong signals and I don’t know how I did that.”

Mr. F tugged a tissue out of his pocket and wiped his brow. “Sometimes people see what they want to see, not what’s really
there.”

“I guess.” I walked with him for a few steps. “What should I do?”

“Be his friend.”

“He won’t let me.”

“Give him time and don’t give up,” Mr. F said.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, geez, my bus is going to leave,” I said. “Thanks, Mr. F. See you tomorrow.” We knocked
fists and I took off.

That night I got to talk to Jeff because Chris wasn’t home yet. Apparently he wasn’t picking up his cell so Jeff had called
the house. I was so excited that at first I couldn’t say much except “uh huh” when he asked me a question, even when I didn’t
hear the question. I just liked listening to him so I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes, letting the sound
of his voice wash over me.

“So, you really eat raw pig’s eyes in the morning?”

“Uh huh—what?”

He chuckled through the phone. “Just making sure you were listening. I didn’t realize I was so boring.”

“You’re not boring,” I said quickly, afraid he might hang up. “I was just distracted by the TV. I’m turning it off.”
Whew. Okay. Get a grip, Erin. Think of something to say.
“So, are you ready for the Winter Park trip?”

“I went up skiing last weekend and will probably go up again this weekend,” he said. “Hope I won’t look too bad in front of
the ladies.”

Twinge. But of course there would be other girls. Girls his own age. What was I
thinking
?

Mature. Be mature.
“You’re a good athlete. You’ll do fine.”

“Thanks, Swift the Younger,” Jeff said. “I appreciate that. So maybe I’ll see you on the train. And on the slopes. You wouldn’t
laugh at a North Carolina boy, would you?”

“Never,” I said.

“Cool. Tell your bro to give me a call when he gets in.”

The next day I was determined to give Mark his space and be his friend. I didn’t avoid him but I didn’t approach him either.
I felt him staring at the back of my head all through history but he never poked me with his pencil or flipped my hair. And
when the bell rang at the end of class, he jumped out of his seat like he’d been shot out of it. Unfortunately, he didn’t
have a good grip on his books and stuff so everything went flying. I picked up some papers that had slipped under a desk and
handed them to him. He took them without a word.

“I’m still your friend,” I said, “even if you’re not mine.”

He tried to get around me but I stepped over, blocking his exit.

“This is stupid,” I said. “Why can’t we be friends?”

Mark shook his head. “I guess
I’m
stupid,” he said. “I thought you felt… whatever.”

“I’m sorry if I did something to make you think… something,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.” I sucked in a breath and let it out.
At least we were talking, even if it was about as comfortable as sitting on the push-pins that Serena put on my chair in second
grade. “It’s just, well, it took me by surprise,” I said. “But I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Mark pushed me aside. “Too late.”

I followed him out into the hall. “It doesn’t have to be.”

He stopped so suddenly, I nearly ran into him. Whirling around, he faced me. “Is it that guy from the game? Do you like him?”

The question threw me off guard. “I—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?” He shook his head, disgusted. “You like him, Erin. It’s obvious. But get a grip. He’s
in
high school.
”

“So?”

“So, he’ll never go out with you.”

My stomach clenched. “I don’t even like him, okay?”

“Right,” Mark said, turning away. “Just don’t do something stupid.”

“You’re stupid!” I shouted, not caring how immature it sounded to say that. I stomped away, my eyes pricking. Blinking quickly,
I tried not to sniffle until I was way down the hall, far away from stupid Mark Sacks and his stupid comment.