Page 130 of Burnout
“This boy I like told me he had a crush on someone but couldn’t tell me who. My friend Janet says that means it’s me, but I’m not sure. I went through our class roster guessing and he said no to everyone.”
“O-kay,” Knox says the word slowly. “What do you need my advice on?”
“Does he like me?” she asks, a hint of exasperation in her tone. “And how do I get him to tell me?”
Knox’s brows lift and he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but no words come out. He rubs the back of his neck. He’s so out of his depth right now it’s hilarious.
I jump in to save him. “When you went through everyone in your class, did you ask him if he liked you?”
Her face pales. “No way. I’d die of embarrassment if he laughed or something.”
Fair. First crushes are tricky and so are first rejections.
“You go to Valley Middle School, right?” Knox asks.
“Yeah. Why?” Hope’s mouth purses as she studies him.
“If he laughs, I’ll have to pay him a visit the next time I’m in town.”
I press my lips together to fight a laugh. Do I think he’s kidding? Absolutely not.
“Knooooox.” She groans.
“Okay.” He gets a contemplative look and then nods. “Yeah, I think your friend Janet is probably right and that he’s trying to tell you he likes you without actually saying it. He’s being evasive for the same reason you haven’t told him how you feel. You can either wait him out or ask him.”
Her smile falls, but she nods.
“If you ask him, then at least you’ll know. You don’t want to waste time on some boy who doesn’t realize how awesome you are.”
“Yeah,” she says solemnly.
“If he doesn’t like you, he’s an idiot,” Knox tells her. “You’re the coolest kid I know.”
Her full smile returns. “You’re right. I’m amazing. Thanks, Knox!”
With that, Hope hands me the phone back and takes off to warm up.
Laughing, I bring the phone back out in front of myself so I’m in the frame. “I think you just made her day.”
My boyfriend lets out a breath that puffs out his cheeks. “Growing up with brothers did not prepare me for girl talk.”
“You did good.”
His shoulders slump and he shakes his head. “I really hope I don’t have to make an emergency trip back to tell off a middle schooler.”
“If anything, it better be an emergency trip so I can kiss the crap out of you.”
“Not kissing you definitely feels like an emergency,” he says with a smirk.
On Friday after class, I get back to the dorm and have a note in my mailbox that I have a package being held at the front desk.
The girl working lights up when she sees me. Standing, she grabs the big vase of pink roses on a desk behind her and holds them out to me.
“Somebody is awfully smitten with you. This is the third time this week,” she says.
It’s actually the fourth, but someone else was working on Tuesday afternoon.
“Thank you.” I take them from her and bring the flowers closer to sniff them.
