Lindsay's Surprise Crush (6 page)

She texted Nick and asked him. He didn't respond.

With a sigh she put down her phone and went upstairs to do her homework. Her All About Me project was mostly done, but she had several subjects to go.

An hour later her phone buzzed. It was a text from Nick.

It was a phone number and nothing else. No
hey, here you go,
or
it was fun today
or anything. Just the number, which she assumed was Troy's. She didn't respond to Nick.

She typed a message to Troy, wording it carefully so she didn't appear too pushy or too flirty—just friendly.

Hey what's up. Heard you guys played great yesterday.

Almost immediately, she got a response from Troy.

Yeah we did pretty well ha ha.

That's awesome well c u tomorrow at school maybe. g2g

Ok c u.

She clicked off her phone and smiled. Flirting was kind of fun. But she would keep it casual like that and not let things progress too far. She would never break Rosie's heart by actually saying yes to Troy for the dance. But maybe just a little more flirting—next time in front of Nick—wouldn't do any harm.

Her phone buzzed, causing her to jump. But it was just Rosie calling.

“Hey,” Lindsay said cautiously. Had Rosie somehow heard about Troy? Her stomach felt like she'd swallowed a coiled spring.

“Hey,” said Rosie. “There's something awkward I need to tell you.”

Lindsay swallowed. “Oh . . . kaaaaay,” she said. “What's up?”

“Well you know how you and I said we might maybe hang out together this Friday night? Well, now I can't. Because, see, there's this party? On Friday? And the awkward thing is, I don't think you're invited and I didn't want you to find out and be upset.”

The spring in her stomach uncoiled, but only partly. All thoughts of Troy vanished from Lindsay's mind. “Oh. Okay. Thanks for telling me,” she said. Her mind was roiling. Had she done something really terrible she wasn't even aware of? Was the whole grade mad at her for some reason?

“See, it's a soccer team party. Sort of,” said Rosie quickly. “But see, it's . . . it's at Cassidy's house. And she's invited the girls' team and the boys' team so for sure Corrine and Ava and I will be there, but I heard that a few of her other nonsoccer friends are also invited. And I guess her house is really fancy and they're going to cater it with real waiters and they've got a DJ and dancing and she has a huge pool that's heated so we'll be able to go swimming
even if it's cold.” She stopped, perhaps thinking she'd shared a little too much information. “Anyway, I just felt bad that you might find out about it and wonder why I was going.”

“That's fine. Thanks for telling me, Rosie.” Lindsay spoke the words with effort, but she forced her voice to sound casual, unconcerned.

“Oh, good, so you're not mad?” Rosie sounded relieved.

“No, of course I'm not mad. Why should I be mad?” lied Lindsay. “Oops, gotta go, my mom's calling me. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

She clicked off and just sat there quietly, but her lips quivered a little. Who cared? Who cared if Cassidy was having some big party that sounded like it would be extremely fun, and that Nick would be there, and that Rosie was going, and Ava and Corrine for sure, and probably also Sasha and Bella and Chloe and Jenn, because they were really popular but she wasn't? Was it the end of the world that she wasn't invited?

Kind of.

THE SECOND WEEK OF SCHOOL HAD NONE OF THE
excitement and novelty of the first week, and twice the homework. For the first few days, Lindsay avoided Nick as best she could. Luckily they only had homeroom and lunch together. A few times she overheard kids talking about Cassidy's party, but she tried not to pay attention. So what if there was a big party for mostly the soccer players? She didn't even like soccer very much. She knew that Rosie was trying to be sensitive and to shush people up when she drew close, and while she appreciated Rosie's effort, it didn't help much. It really stunk to be excluded. Because Troy was an eighth grader, she had no classes with him, and on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, she saw Troy only in the lunchroom. The first time, at lunch on Monday, she barely registered who he was until he had passed by with his tray, and then she kicked herself for
not saying hi. He hadn't even looked her way, though. She wondered if Nick had been playing a mean trick on her or something. What if it was all a hoax? What if Troy had never even said that to Nick about wanting to ask her to the dance? She dismissed that. Nick might have turned stuck-up, but he wasn't mean. He wouldn't set her up for humiliation like that.

The second time she saw Troy, at lunch on Tuesday, she was standing next to Rosie and didn't even see him coming, until Rosie drew in her breath sharply and clutched Lindsay's arm so tightly Lindsay almost dropped her tray. Then she realized what was happening. The two girls stood stock still as Troy passed by with a group of eighth-grade boys.

This time he looked up as he passed by and jerked his chin up, by way of greeting. “ 'Sup,” he said in their general direction, not looking directly at either girl, and kept going.

“He said hello!” squealed Rosie in Lindsay's ear. “And here I thought he didn't even know I was alive!”

Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. Maybe she should tell Rosie about Troy and how he might possibly be asking Lindsay to the dance but that she planned to say no.
No, she couldn't do that. What if Rosie thought she was doing it just to get back at her about the party? She really didn't blame Rosie for wanting to go, but maybe Rosie would think she did. Plus, he hadn't actually asked her. It wasn't really an issue yet. She'd wait and see what happened.

On the way to social studies on Tuesday afternoon, Cassidy stopped Lindsay in the hallway. She looked amazing with her glossy hair bouncing around her shoulders. She had on a perfectly cut white T-shirt, jeans, and a thick belt. Lindsay was pretty sure the T-shirt hadn't come out of Cassidy's dad's drawer. It was probably designer.

“Hey, Lindsay, Corrine told me she heard that you are an awesome piano player,” said Cassidy. “Is that true?”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes. Was Cassidy making fun of her? Being a classical musician just wasn't something really popular kids did, and Lindsay and Cassidy both knew it. All the band kids sat together at lunch, and even though some were really nice, and a few were really smart, they were just hopelessly unpopular. Was Cassidy about to ask her why she didn't sit with them at lunch?

“Yeah, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“That's so cool. I wish I could play,” said Cassidy. “Guess I'll stick to soccer, though,” she added. “The guys are way cuter than the ones in the band!” She giggled and kept moving.

Lindsay wanted to call after her to tell her that piano wasn't even a band instrument, but she thought better of it. Why start another conversation with her when Cassidy would probably just turn it into a reminder of how she got to spend all her time with Nick, and Lindsay didn't? Lindsay was cranky. Why was Cassidy asking her about piano anyway? Did she want to know if Nick liked piano?

That Thursday Lindsay found the perfect opportunity to be seen with Troy in sight of Nick.

The boys' team had a game across town against their biggest rivals. She knew they'd all be assembling at the end of the parking lot closest to the gym. She worked out the whole “chance encounter,” even going to her locker before last period to collect her stuff so she wouldn't have to take the time after the bell rang at the end of the day.

That gave her a full seven or eight minutes to happen to pass by the boys' team before her bus left. They'd been excused five minutes early, so she knew they'd be there.

She dashed toward the hallway leading to the gym, heading down the stairs and out that exit door. Sure enough, there were the boys, standing around in their uniforms, joking and laughing with one another. She spotted Troy right away. He was teaching some new soccer kick to Nick. She slowed down and caught her breath, and then walked slowly and casually past the boys toward where the buses were lining up.

Troy saw her and stopped demonstrating whatever kick he'd been showing Nick. He said something to Nick and trotted across the grass toward her. She pretended not to see him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Oh! Hi!” she said, pretending to be surprised. “I had to, um, do something at the gym so I came out that way. Looks like you guys have a game today. Who are you playing?”

“We play Crosby. They're good but we can beat them.”

“Oh! Well, good luck. Guess I should hustle off to my bus.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Nick had moved over to another clump of his teammates. He
was standing next to them quietly, not participating in their conversation. He looked annoyed. Good.

“Hey, hold up a second,” said Troy.

She stopped. Oh no. Her heart thumped as she realized he was going to ask her to the dance.

“I was just wondering. You know the harvest dance coming up?”

Think, think, think,
she said to herself, feeling panicky. “Oh, yeah, I know, I heard about it!” she said, speaking quickly. “It sounds like it's going to be really fun but I can't go which is really too bad but anyway I have to get to my bus I think it's about to leave good luck in your game hope you win see you bye!” She just had time to note the look of confusion that registered on Troy's face before she turned and trotted in the direction of the throngs of kids at the other end of the parking lot.

She was the last one onto the bus, and there were almost no seats left.

There was one, though. Right next to David Costello. He was sitting toward the front, with the other uncool sixth graders. When he saw her get on, he immediately scooted over to the window so she could sit down. Of all the people to see at a time like this.

She said hello quickly, and then sank down into the seat and breathed out a long sigh. That had been awkward. She hadn't expected Troy to ask her so quickly. All she'd meant to do was to let Nick see her flirting with him, just so Nick would realize how obnoxious
he
looked, flirting with Cassidy.

The question was, would Troy tell Nick that he'd asked her and that she'd turned him down? Well, she hadn't exactly given him a chance to ask her. Maybe Troy wouldn't mention anything to Nick.

She wondered if she should tell Rosie about the whole thing. But Rosie would definitely get upset. And the last thing Lindsay wanted to do was to upset Rosie. She was beginning to regret that she hadn't just told Rosie the truth from the beginning. She hated having a secret from her. The odds were against Rosie even finding out, but still . . . Lindsay felt like she had handled the whole situation the wrong way.

“Boo.”

She turned. David Costello was grinning at her with those big purple braces. As her eyes moved past the braces, she noticed for the first time that David's eyes were a startling shade of blue and rimmed with thick, dark lashes.

“You're awfully thoughtful this afternoon,” he said in that loud voice of his.

“It's complicated,” Lindsay replied, not really in the mood to chat. Hopefully David would get the hint.

Or not. “Saw you talking to that soccer dude, what's-his-name, just now. You do lead an exciting life, don't you?”

She frowned. “Sometimes it's a little too exciting.”

“Hey, I have this really cool duet. You want to try playing it sometime?” He pulled a slim music volume from the backpack at his feet and showed it to her.

“ ‘Concertino in E-flat major for piano and clarinet,' ” read Lindsay. She shook her head and pushed it back toward him. “I don't think so, thanks.”

“It's a great piece,” he persisted. “And don't worry, it's not like I'm suggesting it because I ‘like' you,” he said, using air quotes.

“Oh, well,
that's
a relief,” she said, smiling a little. What was that word again that her dad would use to describe this kid?
Cheeky.
David Costello was definitely cheeky.

“Yeah, you're not really my type. Plus, I have my eye on someone else,” he continued, nodding contentedly.
“A seventh grader. She's gorgeous.”

Lindsay suppressed her urge to giggle. Where did this kid get all that confidence? He was short. He had purple braces. Still, there was something kind of charming about him. He was comfortable in his own skin. He was easy to talk to, almost like the way Nick used to be easy to talk to.

“Listen, thanks anyway,” she said, “but my social life is complicated enough right now. I don't really need to further damage my already-damaged reputation by being seen in the band room practicing some dorky music—no offense.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”