Crush by Laura Susan Johnson Page A

girls…
I want to be his friend…
I’m “popular.” I’m constantly surrounded by people…football teammates, fawning girls, the journalism staff, but I have no real friends. Ray and Benny are the closest thing, but I can’t say that I’m “friends” with either of them.
I don’t have friends. I have laughs in the locker room. I have groupies, each hoping they’re next on my list of conquests. I have colleagues that I discuss the latest campus news with.
That’s all.
I haven’t known how lonelyI am.
I want Jamie to be myfriend. And I want to be his.
I’ve always wanted to be his friend.
I could never hate him.
But I’ve been a prick to him.
Because I’m scared.
I’m fighting a losing battle with my attraction to him, and I don’t want to fight anymore.
If he likes me and I like him, whyshouldn’t we see where this leads? Whyshould we care what the world thinks?
But, I do care. I am afraid of what people will think.
There isn’t a person on earth besides my Mom who truly cares about my happiness in life. Yeah, she’s flubbed up and made me mad at her, but all her actions have had the best intentions. Nobodyelse gives a shit whether I’m happyor not.
But they’re sure going to have something to say if I let them see I love Jamie. The Asshole, Queen Bitch, Ray, Benny, the guys at school, the girls…They’d crucifyme if I dared to reveal mycrush on the petite freshman with the bright red and yellow hair and the spectral blue eyes.
I’m worse than the ones who openlyhate him, because I’m a poltroon…I’m afraid to face the truth, afraid to stand up and tell the world.
That I want Jamie.
    The Panther plans an article about Jamie’s bashing. I recommend to our advisor, Mrs. Collins, that the piece should mention that the beating was motivated by false rumors spread about the town, that it’s a hate crime, and that the victim should not be named, because he has already been bashed twice, and to name him would put him in danger of being attacked yet again.
    She disagrees, “We don’t know it’s a hate crime.” “He was beaten up once before this! It is a hate crime!” She shakes her gray head stubbornly. “I’m not going to
    publish an article based on your opinion , Tam. We’re mentioning you as a hero, because you drove the boyto the E.R. We will keep him anonymous for his protection, but we’re not going to call it a gay-bashing when we don’t even know if the boyis gay, or if those rumors even were the cause!”
    I argue with her for a half hour, but the entire journalism staff ends up overruling me. They’re yellow down the back.
Just like me.
    After the latest battering, Jamie’s not the same. When he’s released from the hospital, his right arm encased in hard plaster, he approaches me, guardedly says, “Thank you for getting me to the hospital.”
    “Are you alright?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Sure?”
He shrugs.
“I’m glad they didn’t mention Jamie’s name in the paper,”
    Stacysays.
“I told them theyshouldn’t, for his own safety,” I reply. Jamie speaks up then, “Who cares?! Everyone knows it’s
me!”I feel so bad for him, and I feel stupid.
    A short time later, Ray begins driving Stacy and Jamie, negating myneed to follow him.
Weeks go by, and whenever I look his way, expecting to see him gazing at me, smiling at me, and then averting his eyes, he’s looking elsewhere.
Enough dirty looks and grouchy snarls have worked. I’ve finallygotten through. He can’t have me.
So whydo I feel so fucking wretched?
After all, I can’t stay here…I’ve gotta go, and follow my dream…there’s no real opportunity here like there is in Los Angeles, and I’ve been planning to leave right after graduation forever.
It’s best this way. I can’t have anyattachments here. Besides, we’ll never make it. Nobodyaround here will abide it. Everyone we know would be opposed, except maybe Mr. Tafford and Stacy.
I’d like to think myMom would be supportive about it.
But