Max and I

Chapter Ten

Meet me at the swings today at recess. I need to discuss something with you, Margaret. Ash.

That was the message I received that morning during reading. I looked puzzled at first and then looked at Ashley, who chuckled.

"What?" I said.

Ashley chuckled again.

I didn't get her at that moment and I tried to forget about it until lunchtime.

Lunchtime was a little different from other days. I sat alone and sipped my strawberry milk silently. I didn't want to eat my sandwich Mom had packed.

"What happened?" Ashley suddenly came up to me and saw me looking depressed.

I clamped my fingers together. I picked my nose which was dirty, and wiped it against my pants.

"I...I feel sick," I said.

"You sure?" Ashley picked her hair.

"I'm worried about everything, Ash. I'm worried about my crush mostly. Will you say anything about it?"

"No, no. I never talk to others about crushes. I like this guy named Ronan who's in eighth grade."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I say hi."

"No offense, honestly, but that's weak. I love this boy Max. He's kind of like my boyfriend."

"I see. Very nice."

"I'm lucky." I smiled.

"Yes, you are. How do you even relate to the Max-boy? He probably doesn't care about you."

"He likes me," I said.

"Ronan doesn't like me. I flirt with him but he always looks away at something else."

"Yeah, I don't really flirt a lot. But do you know the kid, um, what's his name? Oh. Christian? He flirted with me last year like crazy. But I still don't think he's a cool person. Brunetta said he's homeless."

"I think she is herself," Ashley said.

"Uh-huh. Maybe not. But she is a pain-in-the-butt."

"Very true."

Lunch was over and it was time to go out. I still felt bad; I hadn't lied. I met Ashley at the swings eating some pretzels. She was rocking back and forth. A hard gust of wind blew and made her hair fly all over her face.

"Tell the nurse," Ashley told me.

"OK. Bye, see ya, Ash." I went away and told the teacher outside I felt sick.

Mom picked me up and I had gotten a little better.

"Aw, poor baby," she said. She kissed my forehead, as if I was a little kid.

"Mom?" I said, once in the car.

"Yes, Margaret?"

"Can I speak to Max?"

"Only once you feel better and you don't feel sick anymore, my love." She started the car.

"I have a really desperate thing to talk about," I said. "It has to do with my crush and, never mind. Girly things."

"Is it really important?" Mom asked of me.

"Yes. I have a problem with our friendship."

"Why would you have a problem with a friendship? He's really nice to you, you say."