She Drives Me Crazy(63)
“She probably feels the way she does before a routine,” I say. “Anxious but excited.”
Danielle taps one of her color-coding highlighters on the desk. “God, I hope she gets it.”
“Me too.” I run through the list of possible candidates in my head, trying to see who could knock her out of the running. She has to be nominated with everything she does for both squads, right?
At lunch, the nominations are all anyone can talk about. Gunther and Danielle confirm they voted for Irene during preliminary ballots last week, but Kevin refuses to say who he voted for. We bug him over and over, but it’s no use; he keeps repeating “A man’s conscience is his own private terrain,” until Gunther squirts a ketchup packet at him.
By the time I get to Senior Horizons that afternoon, my stomach is in knots. I’m so nervous for Irene that I feel like it’s my nomination on the line. But when I glance across the room at her, she is poised and steely as ever. It’s not until we briefly meet each other’s eyes that I recognize her nerves. I nod encouragingly until she nods back.
When the end-of-day announcements finally come on, our principal prattles on about useless minutiae, plus another empty warning about messing with the marquee, before he clears his throat and announces the SAOY candidates.
“Darius Hart … Michael Lottke…,” he reads in his nasally voice. “Charlotte Pascal…”
There’s a surge of applause from half the people in the room. Charlotte smiles and tries to look demure, but to me she looks like a deranged sociopath. I hold my breath, pleading for Irene’s name.
“Irene Abraham…,” our principal drones.
“YES!” I shout, pounding my fist on the desk. My face flushes red, but it doesn’t matter: There’s enough noise from the rest of the classroom to cover up my outburst. Half my classmates are shouting some variation of “What? She’s a cheerleader!” while the other half are falling all over themselves to hug Irene. I forget myself and stand up to get a better look at her. She’s beaming, her smile radiant, her eyes as joyful as the old school picture on her Christmas tree.
“And, lastly, with a record number of write-in votes … Danielle Zander.”
Time freezes. My heart explodes in my chest. One fragile millisecond of silence—Danielle’s jaw falling open, her eyes wide and disbelieving—and then a roar of sound. People are shouting so loud my eardrums could burst. I’m wrapped around my best friend before I even realize it, and I’m squeezing her hands and yelling “You’re nominated! You’re nominated!” More people rush over to hug her—band kids and theater kids and every type of average kid—and when it finally hits her, she shines like a goddamn star.
The classroom is absolute chaos, people running to Charlotte or Irene or Danielle—or sometimes all three—while Mrs. Scuttlebaum yells in vain for us to sit down. Our principal is still talking on the intercom, but he’s nothing more than fuzzy white noise. And in the middle of the ruckus, in one lightning-hot moment, Irene meets my eyes and winks.
* * *
Later that day, after practice, the parking lot is rife with SAOY gossip. It’s unseasonably warm for February, and people are using the opportunity to hang out by their cars. Music streams across the lot, courtesy of the baseball team celebrating Darius Hart’s nomination. The soccer girls, fresh from practice, stretch on the grass near the marquee, which someone tweaked just this morning to read HAPPY VALENTITTIES DAY. Gunther and I sit on the trunk of my car, talking with Kevin, who just left the band room, and Danielle, who’s so hyper she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet. Again and again, we recap the moment her name was announced over the intercom. I’m bursting to go home and tell my family about it.
“Hey, Danielle, congratulations!” one of the band guys says as he passes by. He shifts his trumpet case and points to Kevin. “This guy has the best ideas. The second he told us he was writing you in, we all went for it. Anyway, good luck!”
Kevin flushes where he stands. Danielle blinks like she’s not sure what she heard.
“You wrote me in?” she asks. Her voice is tender. It’s such an intimate moment that I wish they could share it alone. Gunther and I trade awkward glances.
“Is that okay?” Kevin asks croakily. “I know I should’ve asked for your blessing, but I thought no one deserves it more than you—”
“Hey! Danielle!” Irene and Honey-Belle burst onto the scene. They smother Danielle with hugs; it takes her a moment to register they’re there. “Congratulations! This is incredible!”
Irene’s face is alight; she’s genuinely thrilled. Honey-Belle is so happy that she looks ready to float away from the earth.
“Oh—yeah—thanks!” Danielle says, hugging them back. “Congratulations to you, Irene!”
“I never thought I’d have two friends nominated!” Honey-Belle squeals. She spins over to Gunther and smushes his face between her hands. “Can you believe it? It’s like Christmas!”
Gunther grins like a total doof. “Coming from you, that really means something.”
I don’t realize I’m smiling so hard until my cheeks literally start to ache. I glance across the circle at Irene, who catches my eye and grins. It’s already occurred to me that I’m going to have to pick between her and Danielle on the voting form, but right now, I don’t care. There’s too much to be happy about.