The Crush Dilemma (Dear Aubrey Book 1) Page 3

  Not that I was being selfish by suggesting Amber should move on with another date. I mean, that was sage advice. If Amber didn’t trust Jake, then she should find someone she did trust. And if that happened to leave Jake open to possibly dating a certain female Clark Kent look-alike—my favorite compliment ever—then what would be the harm?

  A ting-ting came from my computer’s speaker. Whoa! Another student seeking advice from Aubrey? Call the fire department, my column was en fuego (Spanish for “on fire.” Mr. Rimmer liked us to practice our foreign language skills whenever possible).

  http://www.dearaubrey.com

  Dear Aubrey,

  I’ve liked this guy for ages and we totally hooked up last night. He was kinda seeing my friend at the time, but they’re broken up now so it’s all good. The kicker is, he hasn’t called me. Should I send him another text message? Or does that make me stalker-esque?

  I’m so excited to be writing you! I know you’ll have the best advice. Also, there’s a rumor going around that you’re famous. Is that true?

  Love Addict

  Dear Love Addict,

  Where did you get that info on me? While I’m flattered, I have to say that if I were famous, my column would be in Teen Vogue not in the San Felipe High Scoop. Secondly, it’s not cool to poach on your friend’s guy. But if he didn’t call you, he’s not interested. You were a hookup. Nothing more. My advice? Think of his not calling you as karma, work on your loyalty skills, and don’t date guys unless they’re unattached.

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  HYPOTHESIS: Teenage girls betray their friends over boys.

  PURPOSE OF EXPERIMENT: If teen girls put their friends first, will teenage boys have no one to cheat with?

  CONCLUSION: To be determined.

  As soon as I posted my advice online, something occurred to me. Love Addict could totally be Trish Benson. After all, in the ladies’ room she’d said she had a problem she wanted to write Aubrey about and this is the next post I received. Trish also thought Aubrey was a celebrity and this girl did too.

  So, if Trish actually was Love Addict, then that must mean she hooked up with Jake at that new boy’s party. Poor Amber, to have her best friend betray her in such a huge way. I’d be crushed if Beth did that to me.

  Wait a minute, if these posts added up the way I suspected it did, then Jake really had cheated on Amber. The thought smacked me hard upside the head. I sat stunned for a moment, then gave a quick laugh. I was being crazy. Jake had way more character than that. At least he did back in the day. I refused to believe otherwise without solid proof.

  Ting-ting!

  The computer’s cheerful noise meant a new question had been posted. Wow. My column was really rolling. I quickly scanned the computer lab to make sure the sound hadn’t caught anyone’s attention. The few students in here were typing away seemingly unperturbed. I’d picked the cubicle in the back corner, but still—one couldn’t be too careful with one’s secret identity.

  The coast seemed clear so I opened the new post.

  http://www.dearaubrey.com

  Dear Aubrey,

  This is kind of embarrassing to ask over the Internet, but it’s not like you know who I am, so here goes. My sort-of-boyfriend wants me to go all the way with him, but each time we start to—you know—I freeze up. I think he’s losing patience and I worry my deadline is near. Maybe I’m just being a baby. It’s not the end of the world, it’s just sex. Should I give in and do it? I don’t want him to leave me.

  First Timer

  Dear First Timer,

  Not the end of the world, just the end of your VIRGINITY. Do you really want your first time to happen because of a deadline? Think of the big picture. You’re, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? If you’re going to be with this guy for the rest of your life, then what does it matter if he waits until you’re ready? If you’re not going to be with him forever, then who cares if he leaves today, tomorrow, or a month from now? Don’t let him pressure you. Your comfort zone is telling you no. I think you should listen.

  Stay real,

  Aubrey

  HYPOTHESIS: Teenage girls sleep with boys under pressure.

  PURPOSE OF EXPERIMENT: If teen girls stand up for themselves, will they find the “right” boy faster?

  CONCLUSION: To be determined.

  Significantly late to class—for the first time ever, might I add—I slid into a seat in the back row of AP Biology, feeling like a delinquent. Ms. Nixon flicked her gaze at me then continued her lecture. I turned my attention to her discussion on nutrition and how the government allowed candy companies to sell chocolate bars with up to six insect legs per bar.

  I wanted to ask Ms. Nixon if spiders, which are arachnids (not insects), were allowed two extra legs per bar since they have eight legs and not six. Quite perplexing. But before I could raise my hand, my mind drifted back to my Dear Aubrey column and whether or not Love Addict could be Trish Benson.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence that Love Addict had hooked up with a friend’s guy around the same time Amber felt Jake had cheated on her. The timelines were too close. Had Trish fooled around with Jake while he was still with Amber? Had Jake turned into a cheater?

  Writing my Dear Aubrey column was supposed to be a mental outlet. Instead, mixing my two realities made my head swim. I blamed Amber for this mess due to her confession in the ladies’ room. How was I supposed to give unbiased advice if I knew the parties involved?

  “Ms. Nixon?” Suzi Steiner, the girl seated in front of me, waved her hand madly as if desperate for permission to pee. “Uh, Ms. Nixon?”

  Our biology teacher spun away from the whiteboard. “Yes, Suzi?”

  Suzi wiggled in her seat. “Can we talk about . . . sex?”

  My eyes flared at the change in subject. I mean, seriously. How did the class topic go from insect legs in a candy bar to sex? I turned to my right and exchanged a look with Beth.

  “Well, not exactly, but what would you like to know?” Ms. Nixon took an empty chair from the front row, turned it around so she could face us students, and sat down.

  Suzi sucked in a breath. “I want to ask your opinion on the latest Dear Aubrey post.”

  Um, what?

  My hand popped straight up. Did I really want to hear everyone in class discuss my advice on a couple doing it? Even if my advice was not to do it? That would be a strong “no.” Before Ms. Nixon could call on me, I burst out with, “Didn’t we already study sex ed our sophomore year?”

  The class chuckled, and my cheeks heated.

  Ms. Nixon sighed. “It’s just a question about an advice column, Poppy. I think it’s fine. But to be fair, if anyone feels uncomfortable then he or she is welcome to wait in the hallway until we’re done.”

  Nobody moved.

  Wow. Discussing my advice column was bigger than goofing off in the hallway. Shocking. I raised a hand to my forehead, feeling slightly dizzy. This secret column was supposed to be a freeing experiment for tension release, not the hot topic at school.

  “Okay, then . . .” Ms. Nixon smiled and turned to Suzi, appearing eager to help. “What’s the question?”

  I noticed my hand was still in the air, so I lowered it in defeat. I turned to Beth for sympathy over the uncomfortable subject, but her attention was riveted on Suzi. Just great.

  “Well, did you read Dear Aubrey’s column?” Suzi asked.

  Ms. Nixon nodded. “I sure did.”

  My mouth dropped open. Our AP Biology teacher had read my column? I hadn’t anticipated the faculty reading it. At least she’d lurked and not asked advice. The thought of giving my forty-something teacher advice gave me the willies.

  “So you read the whole thing? Cool.” Suzi paused, looking around her, as if to make sure the entire class was listening. “Then you know Aubrey makes a big deal about losing your virginity because she wrote it all in caps.”

  “All caps means shouting,” Dillon Brady chimed in. “Everyone knows that.”

 
“Right.” The surprised expression on Suzi’s face showed she clearly hadn’t known that but she played it off pretty well. “Anyway, do you really think you need to be with someone, like, forever before you have sex with them? That seems extreme to me.”

  My mouth twitched in frustration. Forever? That’s not what I’d meant. I didn’t like people misinterpreting my advice. And it wasn’t like I could speak out and correct her. Did I need to be clearer in my next post? If only I could say something to clarify. . . .

  “Read slower next time.” Karen Warner—one of Amber and Trish’s cheerleader friends—filed her nails with a purple emery board as she spoke. “What Aubrey meant was if the relationship’s not going to last anyway, then you shouldn’t do something you’re not ready for. I feel sorry for any girl who lets a guy pressure them. That’s just weak.”

  “But you can’t expect a guy to wait forever,” Dillon argued with a lopsided grin.

  Karen pointed her emery board at him. “If a boy just wants to get laid, he can take a hike. Girls aren’t sex objects.”

  “That’s right!” Erika Scott cheered from the back.

  Dillon let out a slow smile. “That’s news to me.”

  “Everyone hear that?” Karen made eye contact with all of the girls in class, except me. Then, she turned back to Dillon. “Good luck getting a date to the winter formal.”

  Ms. Nixon waited a moment until it was clear nobody else was going to speak. “Did that answer your concerns, Suzi?”

  Suzi nodded, obviously not wanting to disagree with Karen Warner. “Sounds like Aubrey’s the go-to girl for advice. Is she a friend of yours, Karen?”

  Karen went back to filing her nails. “A girl that sure of herself is someone I’d definitely hang with.”

  Karen’s words made me feel all glowy inside and a smile stretched out across my face. I’d just received a compliment from Karen Warner from the It crowd. Finally, one of them actually respected me—well, Aubrey. I glanced up to find Beth staring at me.

  “You okay?” she mouthed.

  I nodded, then turned to study Karen, who thought my advice rocked. She wore her blonde hair twisted up in a clip that made her look effortlessly stylish. Her makeup was applied using bright colors that made her face sparkle. Her jeans and tank looked straight out of a fashion magazine and her nails were . . . no longer being filed. Our eyes met.

  She glared at me. “Why are you staring at me, Poppy-corn?”

  “Uhh . . .” My face heated as the entire class chuckled. Amber had apparently resurrected my mortifying elementary school nickname and shared it with Karen. “I’m n-not staring.”

  “Right.” She threw me an annoyed look. “You totally need to write Aubrey and ask her advice on how to act normal.”

  “Karen,” Ms. Nixon scolded. “That’s not nice.”

  Not nice, but definitely a reality check. Aubrey may be gaining popularity, but Poppy still held teen geek status and the It crowd sure didn’t want anything to do with me. How could Aubrey and I be the same person, yet be in totally different social groups?

  As Aubrey, I easily dished out advice and the It crowd ate it up. But as Poppy, I just slunked down in my seat and hoped the class would stop staring at me.

  Now that the sex discussion was over, Ms. Nixon stood and went back to her lecture on nutrition. Wishing I could live as my alter ego full-time, I turned to gaze out the window and caught the eye of the boy seated in the front row.

  Daniel Baker, the hot new boy.

  He’d been chewing on a pen, but when our eyes met, the corner of his mouth curved upward.

  A zing whipped through my chest, but I couldn’t look away—couldn’t stop wondering what that smile meant and why he’d directed it at me.

  ****

  After five minutes, journalism class—the only elective I deemed relevant to my collegiate future—turned into its usual organized chaos. Everyone worked on their own projects, voices buzzing as the staff went about their business. But today, I sat in the corner of the room—by myself (nothing new)—thinking about Daniel Baker’s smile.

  The new It boy had actually smiled at me. A friendly smile, too. Not as if he’d found it humorous that Karen had called me “abnormal” in front of the entire class. Surely he’d heard her insult and had seen everyone laughing at me. So, what had that smile meant?

  I stared at a hard copy of the San Felipe High Scoop, trying to push my confusion out of my mind and concentrate on my work at the newspaper. I scrutinized my photo in the newspaper staff shot, thinking I definitely had that Clark Kent vibe.

  “You look pretty there.” Mason peered over my shoulder, scaring the life out of me.

  I jerked backward, my breath catching in my throat. “I’m fairly certain you just shortened my life by several days. Please start wearing a bell.”

  “I’ll put that on my wish list,” he joked, sliding into the chair across from me.

  “What’s up?” I tossed the paper on the desk, wondering whether or not Amber had actually meant her Clark Kent comment as an insult. I owned contacts, but glasses were just easier. After a couple of hours, contacts dried my eyes out and made them feel scratchy. Besides, so what if I didn’t have twenty-twenty vision and the perfect complexion? Did that make me less of a human being than the It crowd?

  Mason let out a low whistle. “Something has you bugged. What’s going on?”

  Just wishing I had Aubrey’s guts and had asked Amber what she’d meant by that Clark Kent comment. But I wasn’t going to admit that to Mason. “Why do you ask?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Just making sure you aren’t upset with me.”

  “Why would you think that?” I asked, bringing my brows together. Mason could be ultra-sensitive and liked reassurance that all was well in our friendship.

  “I called you last night, but didn’t hear back from you,” he said.

  I vaguely remembered my little brother telling me Mason had called late last night, but I was so absorbed in formatting my Dear Aubrey column that I’d forgotten to call him back. “I’m sorry. The Creep told me, but I was . . . studying some more after you guys left.”

  Not a lie. Dear Aubrey counted as studying since the column earned me extra credit in school and my mini-thesis would be a great addition to my educational résumé.

  “So, there’s no other reason you didn’t call me back?” He studied me, while wringing his hands together in a way that made my stomach uneasy. “Good, because I was afraid you’d be mad at me for telling Beth about Amber first and—”

  “Hang on.” I shushed Mason as I overheard someone say my alter ego’s name. I just hoped they weren’t talking about the sex post.

  “What is it?” He dipped his head, causing his dark hair to fall across his forehead. His brown eyes went wide, like he did when he was ready to get the scoop for an article.

  “Shhh.” My stomach knotted as I stood, inching toward Ms. P’s desk as inconspicuously as possible. Mason gave me a weird look but followed close behind as I eavesdropped on Denise Jung and William Hall’s conversation.

  “Ms. P, it’s not fair that we weren’t offered the opportunity to write for Dear Aubrey.” Denise adjusted her rimless glasses. “You just know Mason’s going to be valedictorian eventually, so I need some kind of edge for my résumé.”

  Mason and I exchanged a look. “Competitive much?” I mouthed.

  He stifled a chuckle.

  “It’s not about our individual goals, Denise,” William said, in his usual condescending tone. “We need to focus on collaboration and success. The column’s up already, so we should move forward with its growth in a proactive way.”

  A proactive way with my secret identity? My jaw muscles tightened and I wanted to speak up and defend my column in case Ms. P was buying any of the thievery Denise and William were suggesting. I glanced up, studying my mentor’s face in order to gauge what she was thinking.

  Absolutely unreadable. No wonder I admired her.

  “An amicable solutio
n might be if we all took turns answering the posts,” Denise braved on, as if her suggestion was already a done deal. “We could swap weekly. The column would still be anonymous because only you would know who was assigned to answer each week.”

  “Denise, William, please.” Ms. P leaned back in her chair, holding a silver pen between her fingers as if she’d return to work at any second. “Go back to your assignments.”

  “But it’s not fair.” Denise made a motion like she was about to stomp her foot, but had thought better of it. “That column is being talked about all over school and I demand to know which one of us in here is writing as Aubrey.”

  Mason gave me an odd look and I blushed. Call me paranoid, but I suddenly felt afraid that he might connect my interest in the Dear Aubrey conversation with my actually being Aubrey.

  “Just to be clear, we’d need to set strict guidelines on the cleanliness of our responses,” William asserted. “Last period, Ms. Nixon’s class was discussing the pros and cons of a teenage couple having intercourse before marriage. As a proud member of the newspaper staff, I found the discussion highly offensive and inappropriate for school grounds. It affects all of our reputations, Ms. P.”

  He made a good point . . . except, wait a minute. That discussion hadn’t been brought into classroom by me or my advice column—er, Aubrey’s advice column. Suzi had posed the question about sex, probably just to get some attention.

  Denise leaned toward Ms. P’s desk and lowered her voice. “At least tell us who’s working the column now. Since we’re going to be collaborating with him or her, we deserve to know that much.”

  My entire body froze as I waited for Ms. P’s response. What if she revealed my identity and Jake found out I’d told Amber she should dump him? What if Trish found out Aubrey wasn’t a celebrity but the girl she’d been making fun of since elementary school? Or, what if First Timer learned that the girl giving her advice on sex had never even been kissed? They would all laugh at my lack of credentials and ridicule me for the rest of my high school days.