She Drives Me Crazy(29)

The crowd cheers. I high-five a slightly less nervous Danielle, and as we run to the other side of the court to play defense, I can’t help grinning.



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We win that first game, and then our second game the following week, and somehow we end up rolling into an undefeated season. November becomes a flurry of practice-practice-game, practice-practice-game, and I’m high on the rhythm of it, the sweet exhaustion I feel after each practice, the crisp, bright air on my cheeks when Irene and I break out of the gym every evening.

A few weeks into the season—and my new “relationship”—I get word of an opportunity I’ve been itching for.

“Charlotte Pascal’s house,” Gunther says abruptly when we plop down for lunch. “Have you heard?”

“No?”

“It’s all anyone’s talking about. She’s throwing a party over Thanksgiving break.”

“So?” Danielle asks.

“So I think we should go,” Gunther says bracingly. “I’m in the mood for another ‘senior fundraiser’ to liven up my social scene.”

Danielle half turns to Kevin. “What do you think? Are you gonna go?”

“Yeah, why not?” Kevin says, shrugging. “It’s something new. The only other party I’ve been to was with band kids and it was … underwhelming.”

“I heard Charlotte’s still dating that Candlehawk bro,” Gunther says through a mouthful of sandwich. “Honey-Belle was telling me about it.”

I study him. “Since when do you and Honey-Belle talk?”

“We talk sometimes,” Gunther says, his voice high-pitched.

“Does she still think your name is Grover?” Kevin asks.

Gunther ignores him. “She said the guy’s a total toolbag. He told Charlotte he’d only come to her party if she invited his Candlehawk classmates, too.”

My ears perk up. “All his Candlehawk classmates?”

“Why does that—” Danielle starts to say, but then she stops. Her expression darkens. “Scottie, no.”

“What?” Kevin asks.

I scratch the back of my neck, trying to seem casual. “I was just wondering.”

“She’s wondering whether Tally will be there.”

“What? Why?” Gunther says, licking the mustard at the corner of his mouth. “You’re dating Irene now.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m just considering whether she would be there,” I say carefully. “I mean, I’m not above making her jealous.”

Kevin snorts into his Gatorade. Danielle squeezes her eyes shut like she’s praying for patience. I don’t care; I have a new mission.

I find Irene after lunch. “Hey,” I say, leaning up against her locker. “Did you hear about Charlotte’s party?”

Her eyes turn stormy. “What about it?”

“It’s next weekend, once break starts.” I lower my voice. “Our first public outing together.”

“I’m not going to Charlotte’s party,” Irene says, slamming her locker.

I follow her as she stalks off, grabbing hold of her backpack to slow her down. My basketball button stares up at me. “Um? Why not?”

“Because I despise her. Which you already know. Everyone knows.”

“Candlehawk people will be there,” I insist. “Tally will be there.”

“Who cares? We can flaunt our sexy relationship in front of her at the Candlehawk game. I thought that was your goal.”

“No,” I say, getting heated now. “We agreed this was part of the deal: You helping me make Tally jealous.”

Irene spins around by the Language Hall. She pulls me into a room two doors down.

“This is a teachers’ lounge,” I say as she snaps the door shut.

“Only the language teachers use it, and they all have third block classes.”

I squint at her. “You’ve come in here before?”

She ignores the question. “I’m not going to Charlotte’s house.”

“You don’t have to talk to her,” I say impatiently. “For God’s sake, there’ll be a million people there. You can hang with me and Danielle and Honey-Belle.”

Irene looks ready to incinerate me with her stare. “Don’t push me on this, Zajac.”

“What’s your problem with Charlotte, anyway?” I ask, even though I know the rumor from Gunther.

Her eyes flash. “That’s none of your business. You’re not entitled to know or understand how I feel about people.”

I straighten my back, keeping my eyes hard on her. “This was part of the deal.”

Irene stands tall, holding her ground. “If you can’t bend on this one thing, the deal is off. You don’t get to treat me like some escort for hire. I understand that to you I’m just some ‘hot girl’ with social capital, and for the most part, I’ve let you get away with that, but this is too far. I’m a person with feelings and boundaries. Get your head out of your ass and respect that, or we’re done.”

She wrenches the door open and sweeps out of the room, and I’m left standing in her wake, completely dazed.



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