The Dating Debate Read online

  After we created the poster and had copies made, we had one more problem. “When are we going to hang these?” I asked.

  “I bet we could get into the building super early tomorrow,” Lisa said. “And hang them before anyone else comes in.”

  I groaned. “I hate super early. It’s a terrible time to go anywhere.”

  “It’s for the library,” Lisa reminded me. “And bragging rights after we beat West.”

  “Since it’s for the library, I’ll tell West I’m helping you with something so I won’t need a ride to school tomorrow.” Would he be willing to give me a ride home from school once he saw the posters? That was another question.

  Lisa picked me up psycho-early the next morning. We spent an hour taping posters onto every flat surface in the school building. When we were down to half a dozen, I checked my cell. West should be showing up soon. And I knew just how I wanted to greet him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  West

  Driving to school Monday morning, I couldn’t help thinking Nina was up to something. The way she had evaded answering my questions when I asked why she was riding to school with Lisa was a dead giveaway.

  As soon as I stepped foot into the building I was smacked in the face by the neon orange posters lining the hallways that said: Keep the Hilmer Library Open. Recycle a Different Building.

  Even if I hadn’t caught Nina in the act of taping one of the posters above my locker, I would have guessed she was behind this.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “Or that sign is going to become a paper airplane.”

  Nina turned around and grinned at me like she was quite satisfied with herself. “Come on. It’s a little funny.”

  “It’s not,” I said. “Unless you want pro-recycling bumper stickers in an equally ugly neon color plastered all over your Jeep, go post your sign somewhere else.”

  “I have several responses to that. First off, these signs are not ugly. They’re a bright happy shade of orange meant to catch people’s eyes.”

  “Or blind them,” I said.

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “Second, it’s not like I’m anti-recycling. And thirdly—”

  “Third-ly? Is that even a real word?”

  She laughed. “If it wasn’t before, it is now. So…thirdly, if you put bumper stickers on my Jeep, I’ll put Hello Kitty stickers all over your car.”

  “Hello Kitty?” I had a hard time pretending to be annoyed because she seemed to be having such a good time stating her case. “What does a glittery cat have to do with the library versus recycling center argument?”

  “Not much, but I bought a bunch on clearance at the bookstore so they’re my go-to revenge stickers of the moment. And we’re not arguing.” She smiled and moved closer. “We’re debating.” She pulled on the strap of my backpack so I’d lean forward. “It’s fun.” And then she kissed me. My brain pointed out that Nina was a strange girl who got turned on by arguing. My body didn’t care. I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  There were catcalls and some laughter. She pulled away from me and said, “See, this is fun.”

  “I still don’t understand your form of crazy,” I said. “But it’s working for me.”

  Nina chuckled and continued down the hall toward her locker. Matt and Charlie stood off to the side, with judgmental looks on their faces. “What?”

  “She distracted you.” Charlie pointed at the shiny new poster that hung above my locker. The one I’d sort of forgotten about when she’d kissed me.

  I might have walked away and left it up there. “Sneaky, argumentative, hippy chick,” I muttered under my breath as I tore the poster down.

  I planned on talking to Mr. Grant about the whole library project in social studies. I hadn’t planned on him bringing it up to the entire class.

  “Students, even though it’s Monday, I’m sure you noticed the posters in the hallway this morning. There’s a group of concerned students and citizens who don’t want Hilmer Library closed until the new library is built.”

  There went my extra credit.

  “Some of you may have heard there were squatters in the basement of the building. My brother-in-law sent some men in to clean the basement out. Instead of going ahead with the plan to rehab the building as soon as possible, we’ve decided to let each group make its case and then whoever wants to can sign a petition so that you all can see democracy in action on a personal level.”

  Nina probably loved this. “Not to be selfish, but how will this affect our extra credit?”

  “I’m assuming you’re still pro-recycling center?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can choose to create posters and hang them up or hand out fliers.”

  “I just wanted to hit something with a sledgehammer,” I said, only sort of joking.

  Mr. Grant laughed. “You may still get your chance. In the meantime, you can meet with other students and develop a campaign strategy.”

  This was not what I had signed up for.

  “You might be interested to know that the recycling company has several posters about the benefits of recycling on their website, which you can print out.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “So I should print those out and give them to other students to hand out or hang up?” Delegating, I could do.

  “Yes, and keep a journal of your efforts. When the dust settles I’ll give you credit on your effort, not on whether your side wins or not.”

  Good to know, but I was going to win. I just needed to come up with a strategy. Toward the end of class Mr. Grant let me use one of the classroom computers. I pulled up the recycling center and printed out some educational posters. Then I scanned the site for any free promotional swag they might hand out. They offered combs. That was boring. Key tags. Yawn.

  Mr. Grant came over to check on me. “What are you looking for?”

  “I hoped to find some sort of giveaway that would get students to sign our petition.”

  “You can try,” he said. “But I don’t think you’ll find anything from the recycling centers for free that students will care about.”

  He was right. What would make students sign a petition? “Could we do a raffle? If you sign the petition, your name is entered for some sort of prize?”

  “You could, but we don’t have a budget. Maybe a local restaurant would donate a gift certificate if you put their logo on your poster.”

  This was becoming too complicated. “Do you know anyone who might help out?”

  “Let’s ask the class.” He announced the plan and asked the question.

  A girl raised her hand. “My aunt opened a new pizza restaurant downtown. She’d probably donate a meal for the free advertising.”

  And now I had a plan.

  After school, I found Nina waiting in the parking lot by my car. She smiled at me but didn’t look quite sure of herself. “So can I text Lisa that you’re giving me a ride home?”

  “Are you armed with Hello Kitty stickers?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  I clicked my key fob. “Then you can get in the car.”

  She climbed in. As I drove home, she said, “So I heard a rumor you’re offering a pizza raffle to anyone who signs your petition.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.” And really I couldn’t because the girl hadn’t talked to her aunt yet.

  “The library ladies already have a petition,” she said. “I guess whatever signatures we gather will be added to theirs.”

  “Sounds like a gang for grandmothers,” I said. “Beware the library ladies.”

  …

  Nina

  “Never underestimate the power of a reader, no matter how old they are. I bet those ladies are tied into all sorts of restaurants and stores in town. Maybe I could ask one of them to donate a raffle prize.”

  “You’re going to try to out-raffle me, aren’t you?” West asked.

  “Now that you mention it.” I laughed,
but I didn’t want this to become awkward. “How about we make a promise that no matter what happens with the library, we won’t get mad at each other.”

  “I’ll get extra credit based on my efforts, no matter what ends up happening, so I can agree to that. I’d like to point out that you’re the one with a temper.”

  I laughed. “I’m not the only one with a temper.”

  “Let me rephrase that,” he said. “You’re extremely argumentative.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” I poked him in the shoulder. “See what I did there?”

  He snorted but didn’t comment. Things seemed comfortable between us, which was nice. I guess we’d wait and see what the future would bring. It was weird now that Valentine’s Day was over. For so long that date had been something we were working toward. Now I guess we were taking things day by day.

  “Want to come over for some dog fur and banana bread?” I asked when he parked in the driveway.

  A look of horror crossed his face. “There isn’t any dog fur in the banana bread…right?”

  I made no promises. “Of course not. Unless a piece drifted into the batter.”

  “I may never eat at your house again.” The look of revulsion on his face made it hard not to laugh.

  “You’ve already eaten at my house several times, so even if there is the occasional stray piece of dog fur in your food, it hasn’t killed you yet.”

  “I’m going to pretend we never had this conversation, because your mom is a good cook and home-cooked meals are a rarity at my house.” West climbed out of the car and walked toward my front door.

  I followed after him, thinking he needed a hug and how sad it was that no one cooked for him.

  After West left to meet up with his cousins, I took Gidget out into the backyard to throw the Frisbee. The light was on in the kitchen at his house, so I snuck a glance. A woman, who I assumed was West’s mom, looked out the window. Maybe if I didn’t make direct eye contact I wouldn’t scare her off.

  When Gidget was panting like crazy, I stopped throwing and checked the window. West’s mom smiled and gave a small wave. Progress. I returned her greeting and she gestured that I should come closer. That was unexpected.

  Moving slowly so I wouldn’t scare her off, I walked across the yard toward the window. West’s mom didn’t look sick, but she did look a little nervous and lost, kind of like someone who walked into a party but wasn’t sure they’d been invited.

  When I was a few feet from the window, I said, “Hello, I’m Nina. You must be West’s mom.”

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you.” She pointed at Gidget. “Your dog is so pretty.”

  “Thank you.” I reached down to pet her head. “She’s a good girl.”

  “Can I pet her?” she asked.

  “Sure.” A little voice in my head wondered if this was a good idea. His mom would know better than to do anything to risk her own health, right?

  “Bring her to the back door,” his mom said and then she disappeared from view.

  I walked Gidget to the patio door. Was this okay? Should I text West?

  His mom pulled back the curtain, which normally blocked the view through the patio doors. She stood there on the other side of the sliding glass door with an uncertain look on her face. She placed her hand on the door handle and then drew it back, hesitating. Through the glass door I could see what wasn’t visible from the kitchen window. Her pink robe was frayed at the edges. The pajamas she wore underneath appeared clean, but she had on two different slippers. Weird.

  Slowly, she slid the door open and held her hand out toward Gidget. “Hello, girl.”

  Gidget sniffed West’s mom’s hand and then leaned into her touch. Very gently, his mom ran her hand over Gidget’s head and ears. Blonde fur drifted through the air.

  “She sheds a lot,” I said.

  “Oh my. Yes, she does,” West’s mom said. “But I don’t mind.”

  “West is such a neat freak,” I said. “It really bothered him at first.”

  “He gets that from his father.” She squatted down to pet Gidget, and I saw past her into the kitchen, which was normal. What wasn’t normal was the stack of Rubbermaid boxes I could see in the living room. And not just a few boxes. The small slice of living room I could see was nothing but boxes stacked one on top of another.

  It felt like cold marbles were rolling around in my stomach. “Are you moving?”

  “No.” She stood. “Why do you ask?”

  “The boxes,” I said. “I thought maybe you were packing.”

  “No.” She smiled. “West’s dad likes to organize all of my things.”

  Something about this wasn’t adding up. “What kinds of things?”

  She backed up a step. “Would you like to see?”

  Gidget must have thought West’s mom was inviting her inside because she trotted right into the kitchen and headed for the living room.

  “I’m sorry.” I followed after Gidget. As soon as I crossed the threshold to the living room, the smell of mildew and dust hit me. It smelled ten times worse than the Hilmer Library ever had. And I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. Boxes upon boxes were stacked everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. They were stacked floor to ceiling leaving a small passage to the front door. If there was furniture in the living room, it was no longer visible.

  Poor West. All the times I’d teased him about being a neat freak…and all his comments about dust and mildew and not wanting to bring anything into his house…it all made tragic sense now. Tears pricked my eyes.

  “These are my things.” West’s mom sounded so proud.

  I couldn’t look at her. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I focused on Gidget. “Wow. You have a lot of stuff.” I needed to get out of there. Quickly.

  “I’ve been collecting for years.”

  I did my best to keep a happy expression on my face. Grabbing Gidget’s collar, I turned to head back toward the kitchen. His mom stood there with a dreamy expression on her face, like her house was full of rare treasures. “I can see that. I better get Gidget out of here before she accidentally knocks over your boxes.”

  “Oh…that’s probably a good idea.” She headed back to the kitchen.

  I followed leading Gidget back out the patio door. “It was nice meeting you,” I said.

  “You, too.” She looked past me. “Oh, hello, West.”

  My stomach dropped to my shoes. West stood there, pale faced, with his fists clenched.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  West

  All I could do was stand there and stare, trying to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of me. Nina stood there talking to my mom. Not only that, she was coming out of my house. She’d been in the house. She’d seen the boxes. She knew. “Nina, what are you doing?”

  “Your mom asked to pet Gidget,” she said.

  Everything I’d been hiding for so long was exposed. The look of pity on Nina’s face made me want to punch something.

  “Aren’t you proud of me?” my mom said. “I spoke to someone.”

  She was oblivious to the panic running through my veins like ice water. Was this what I wanted, for her to talk to people? I wasn’t sure anymore. To head off any type of meltdown, I nodded. “I’m proud of you. You should talk to people.”

  “Gidget is so sweet,” my mom said. “And I like Nina, too.”

  Nina laughed, but it sounded forced.

  “Mom, why don’t you start a pot of coffee while I walk Nina back to her house?”

  “Okay, dear.” She went back into the house and shut the door.

  “West?” Nina came toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “Not here.” I couldn’t risk my mom overhearing. I put my arm on Nina’s shoulder and guided her back to her yard. My head was pounding. When we reached the picnic table I sat. Now what?

  “It’s okay,” Nina said.

  The absurdity of her statement made me laugh. “No. It’s not. And what in the hell did you think you were doin
g going over there? I told you never to bother my mother. I told you not to disturb her. She’s sick.”

  Nina sucked in a breath. “I was trying to be kind. She waved me over. She wanted to pet Gidget. And you don’t get to be mad at me because I never lied to you like you have lied to me.”

  “I lied to you? When?”

  She leaned in. “You made me think your mom was sick, like she had cancer or something. She’s not sick at all.”

  If only that were true. “She’s not? Do you seriously think stacking boxes floor to ceiling throughout the entire house is the act of a healthy person?”

  “No. But you could have told me about your mom and her issues,” Nina said. “I told you everything.”

  “Your drama is in the past,” I said. “And mine is happening right now. Besides, I didn’t lie to you; I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

  “That’s the same thing,” she said.

  “It’s not.” I heard the sound of my dad’s Humvee pulling up the drive. Time for damage control. “I don’t have time for this. I have to go.”

  I ran to the back door and entered the kitchen to find my mom sitting at the table drinking coffee like nothing was wrong, like our entire lives weren’t about to come crashing down. “You can’t tell Dad about Nina,” I said.

  She waved my concerns away. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

  My dad came into the house carrying a bucket of KFC. He looked at her face and then at mine. “What did I miss?”

  My mom launched into her tale about talking to Nina and petting Gidget. Thankfully, she didn’t mention that Nina had been in the house. My father listened and smiled in all the right places, but the smile appeared strained. “That’s nice, honey.” He turned away from us and grabbed plates, knives, and forks. Then he set out the chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

  He filled a plate and took a seat. I grabbed some food and sat at the table, eating it mechanically, waiting for all hell to break loose.