The Forever Crush (11 page)

“You don't like the Pink Locker Society?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Yes or no?” I asked.

“No.”

Progress—at least she was talking.

“How did you know it was me?” she said. “Are you going to tell my parents? Or my sister? Please don't tell Mrs. Kelbrock. I don't want to get kicked out of library club.”

“We're not going to tell anyone. Probably not, anyway. We didn't know it was you until tonight,” I said.

“Do you know about the Pink Locker Society?” she asked.

“Yes, you could say that. I'm—we're—the PLS. Piper, Kate, and me. We're the ones running the Web site.”

“But you guys are so nice,” Mimi said, more relaxed now.

“And you made those bookmarks and sent us those messages?”

She nodded.

I thought about everything Mimi had written, including her personal attacks on us. It was hard to connect all that to this scared sixth-grader in front of me. Her feet didn't even touch the floor. She was swinging them now, nervously.

“Why don't we go take the bookmarks out of the books?”

She nodded and guided me over to the fiction section. She pulled out the books and removed more than a dozen bookmarks. She handed them to me, like I was her mother and she was in trouble. Which she was. I told Kate and Piper to go back to the gym.

“I have it under control,” I said.

“We'll tell Forrest you're talking to two really hot twin guys,” Piper said.

The entire time we'd been tracking down Mimi I had completely forgotten about Forrest. It stung a little—the thought of walking back into that gym and seeing him with Lauren and Charlotte.

After we un-bookmarked the books, I asked Mimi more directly why she had done it. She said it was because the Pink Locker Society Web site made her scared and confused.

“I don't want to wear bras and go out with boys and get the curse and all that other weird stuff.”

“Growing up and getting your period is not a curse, Mimi,” I said, feeling a little like a big sister.

I had been mystified why she had done all this, but now it started to make a little sense. Other girls had written in to the Pink Locker Society with the same concern. Not a ton of them, but a few. Some said they were embarrassed because they still played with Barbies or because their mom said they needed a bra, but they didn't want to wear one.

It wasn't how I felt; I had always wanted to grow up and seem older. But I could see where a girl might feel this way. Mimi and I locked up the library and started walking toward the gym. I tried to use the time wisely. I told her that she shouldn't call other girls “trashy and cheap.”

“That hurt our feelings,” I said.

Mimi nodded.

I told her we had to keep the Pink Locker Society a secret to keep it running—even though some people were saying just the opposite. And I told her I wouldn't tell her sister. Then I told her what I knew to be true and she needed to hear most of all—that she wasn't the only one.

“Other girls are scared, too. But it will be okay. Growing up isn't bad and it happens a little at a time,” I said.

Mimi had caused us a lot of trouble, but something in me wanted to protect her. I had planned on telling Kate and Piper about Mom being pregnant at the basketball game. But so much had happened now, I couldn't find the energy.

It seemed much longer, but we had lost only an hour to the Mimi situation. The second basketball game had just begun. I caught Mimi's eye a few times back in the gym. I could hardly believe this was the same girl who we pulled out from under Mrs. Kelbrock's desk, the same girl who had been threatening us all this time.

We all felt a sense of accomplishment at having solved the mystery. It helped me not mind—well, at least not as much—that Forrest continued to sit with the Bouchards until very late in the game. When he did decide to join me, I saw Lauren and Charlotte turn around and watch him walk up the bleachers to where I was sitting.

“Nice of you to show up,” Piper said.

“Stop, Piper,” I said, even though I agreed with her.

Forrest sat alongside me until the game's end. The Patriots won in a squeaker. But I didn't have much to say to him. He didn't even ask where I was the whole time we were involved in the library caper. I wondered if he was seriously interested in Lauren or Charlotte, or both. I wasn't mad exactly. I guess I didn't feel much of anything, which was weird because I was so used to Forrest making me feel a whole lot of something.

Twenty-eight

The next day, we told Ms. Russo, who told Mrs. Percy and Mrs. Kelbrock, that the bookmark bandit had been caught. They were surprised to learn who it was, but as long as she stopped, they promised not to say anything. The day buzzed with holiday anticipation. We were off for the next two weeks, sailing right from Christmas through the New Year and Ms. Russo and Mr. Ford's wedding.

I was so happy to be invited to a real wedding. Most times, only adults are invited. And I was thrilled to have something fun to do on New Year's Eve. Past a certain age, you don't want to be kissing your mom and dad at midnight. Though I was fairly certain I wouldn't be kissing Forrest. I had dreamed of kissing him so many times that I puzzled over our actual kiss. It was fine—a slow and gentle kiss, not a pushy one—but it lacked a certain something.

For the wedding, I had a sparkly silver dress to wear and medium-high heels. For Christmas, Santa gave me some accessories, including a silver clutch handbag to match my dress.

The days following Christmas went slowly. My mother was feeling better. She said, “The second trimester is a dream,” which I took to mean she wasn't barfing up her breakfast anymore. I tried to be helpful and to keep busy. I went for runs most days and I made time for relatives and friends. I had sleepovers with Kate and Piper. One afternoon, I met Bet for tea. Again, I was tempted to just unload my backpack of untruths on her, but I'd been lying so long about Forrest, I couldn't quite form the words.

I found out what was worse than Forrest not getting me any Christmas gift. It was Forrest not getting me a present but asking me to tell people that he did. He stopped me at my locker before school let out for the holidays and asked me to tell everyone that he had given me a gift certificate to the Tuscan Oven.

“No one will know if we actually went to dinner,” he said. “Cool?”

“Sure, fine,” I said.

“People will ask what
you
got me,” he said. “What should I say?”

“Tell them I made you a huge batch of your favorite Christmas cookies.”

“What kind?”

“All sorts, but double batches of iced gingerbread and peanut butter chocolate chip.”

“That sounds incredible. You didn't actually do that, did you? 'Cause that would be awesome,” he said.

“No, maybe next year,” I said, smiling a little. It was the first time I let myself enjoy anything about him in weeks.

“'Kay,” he said. “I'll call you about the wedding. To set up rides.”

“Yep,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you, Jemma.”

I would be lying if I said I didn't think of him on Christmas. Christmas Eve to be exact. It's just one of those nights that stands out among the rest and makes you wish you were with the people that matter most to you. I love my family, don't get me wrong, but how cool would it be to spend Christmas Eve with your crush, especially if your crush liked you back?

I pictured myself at Gibraltar with Forrest and something inside me slammed on the brakes. It had always been so easy to imagine Forrest and me and everything working out beautifully. But for more than a month, I had tried the experiment. We'd spent time together. We'd talked more than ever before. He'd held my hand and put his arm around me at the movies. Forrest had even kissed me. But he didn't fall madly in love with me. If it hadn't happened during all this time, would he ever?

Twenty-nine

9:45 a.m.
14 hours and 15 minutes until midnight

New Year's Eve stands out among all other days in the calendar because of the big countdown. From the moment you wake up on December 31, the whole day is just tick-tocking away. I love when midnight gets close enough that the hour and minute countdown is inset in the corner of the TV screen. Sometimes I have a friend over to watch the ball drop, but usually it's Chinese food, sherbet punch, and then a midnight cheer with Mom and Dad. Next year, it would be me, Mom, Dad, and a baby to be named later.

But that was 365 days away. Tonight, I'd be counting down to the new year at Ms. Russo and Mr. Ford's wedding reception. What a beautiful relief it was to have somewhere really fun to be on this party night of all party nights. And at midnight, how mind-blowing would it be to have a boy kiss me at three—two—one, Happy New Year!!??

The anticipation was brutal as I lay in bed with the covers still tucked beneath my chin. I thought time would move faster if I forced myself back to sleep even for a little bit. When I did get up, I hoped my zebra-striped fuzzy slippers were in reach. It had snowed two days before—right between Christmas and New Year's—and it was icy cold outside. A waste of snow, I thought, because we were already off from school.

My silvery dress was hanging on my bedroom door, my new silver purse dangling from my doorknob. Could you wear too much silver to a winter wedding? I hoped not as I had metallic dressy sandals and planned to wear dangling silver snowflake earrings. Piper's mom once taught me this fashion rule: Always take off one accessory before leaving the house. It was supposed to prevent you from “overdoing it.” But I wasn't willing to forgo any of my silver items.

My happy dress-up thoughts were quickly overshadowed by more worrisome Forrest-related thoughts. What if he spent all his time with the Bouchard sisters, just like he did at the holiday basketball tournament? I pictured Lauren and Charlotte on either side of Forrest, each kissing one of his cheeks.

I knew I shouldn't be worried, since we were going to the wedding as dates. We planned to go together just like the other couples we knew. Piper and Dylan would be there, but Kate and Brett were no longer a pair. Just before Christmas, Brett had broken it off because he “wanted to see other people.” (At least this excused Kate from the boyfriend Christmas gift obligation.)

Kate briefly worried that Brett may have broken up with her because of the Fat or Not list, but I assured her that could not be it. She said she still liked Brett and was a little sad, but had also confessed that hanging out with him so much had gotten a little dull. In a way, she told Piper and me, she wished she had the courage to end the relationship first. But Kate didn't want to hurt Brett's feelings.

“It's better to be the dumper than the dumped,” Piper always told us. But so far none of us had taken her advice.

Thirty

11:30 a.m.
11 hours and 30 minutes until midnight

I finally woke up and found my fuzzy slippers. In the kitchen, I saw that Mom had already given me one of her dreaded chore lists. She liked to write them on index cards and even put a box next to each one so I could check off my progress. The list began with “put laundry away” and ended with “help undeck the halls.” I never liked returning the Christmas ornaments and decorations to the sad cardboard boxes and plastic tubs. Outside, my father was already unwinding the twinkly white Christmas lights from the shrubs and door frame. I protested that it was too early to take down the lights.

“It's supposed to snow again tonight,” he said. “And I don't want your mom out here on this ladder.”

With a baby on the way, Dad had become more protective of Mom. It was sweet. In recent weeks, he didn't want her bringing in the heavy groceries, crawling into the storage closet, or getting into arguments with me. I exchanged sparks with Mom from time to time, which he seemed to tolerate before, but no longer. Mom had invited me to help design the nursery for the baby. It took all my strength not to paint it pink, pink, pink. But Mom said, “What if it's a boy?” Yikes. What if?

When I was outside talking to Dad, I was surprised at how warm it was despite the four inches of snow on the ground. Everything remained coated in white except the roads, which were black and wet. The sun felt warm on my back through the fleece jacket I was wearing. I decided to go for a pre-lunch run. It got me (temporarily) out of my chores. I thought it might calm my high-strung mood and help pass the many hours I had ahead of me before I could start getting ready for the wedding.

I listened to the squeak-crunch of my sneakers on the wet ground. My breathing quickened but it was even and I felt like I wanted to keep going. I probably could have kept on running for hours with the shining sun overhead and the air cold enough to chill the back of my throat. I did not run in the direction of Forrest's house. I actually tried to put him out of my mind. It almost worked.

Bzzz-Bzzz.
It was my phone vibrating on my hip. I stopped near a square-shaped park with a gazebo in the middle. The grass was still snow-covered, but the crisscrossing pathways were clear.

“Jemma?” Piper said. “I am so upset I can't even speak.”

“Well, you are speaking.”

“No time for jokes. Dylan just broke up with me.”

“Oh, Pipes.”

“This has never happened to me before IN MY ENTIRE LIFE,” she said.

This made me feel sad for her but it also irritated me just a tad. Piper had already had more than a dozen supercute boyfriends. Literally none of them had ever broken up with her.

“Well, what did Dylan say?”

“He said, ‘It's not you. It's me.'”

“What
about
him?” I asked.

“That's just it. I don't know either. He dumped me in a text.”

“Cold.”

“I know. And my phone was charging so I didn't even see it until hours later. He already changed his Facebook status to ‘single.'”