The Stillburrow Crush

I knew he had caller ID because he spat out, "What?" I gri

Then I hung up on him.

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62

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

Chapter Five

"Miss Paxton. Can I have a word with you?" I closed my eyes and slid further into my seat. The bell had just rung, dismissing class. I should've been free to go, free from dreaded trigonometry. My teacher, however, thought otherwise. I was tempted to tell Mr. Underhill—or Mr. Under-the-Hill as Marty'd always called him—that no, he could not have a word with me. But I knew that wouldn't go over so swell. So I gave a miserable nod and gathered my books. I'd just taken my history test the hour before. And Mr. Decker hadn't asked a single question about Appomattox Court House. I glared at Abby Eggrow for misguiding me when I passed her in the hall. But she was busy gossiping with Jill and Liz and didn't notice me at all. Big surprise, huh?

And then I'd gotten to trig only to realize we had an assignment due—an assignment I'd completely forgotten about. Of course.

I'd arrived early, sat in the back next to E.T., and waited for Luke to arrive. I had no idea what to expect from him. OK, I did have one idea. I expected him to completely ignore me. And I wasn't wrong.

He was chatting with Nathan Bates when he strolled in. His book bag was slung over his shoulder and he smiled, showing off that stu

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

he caught sight of some football players across the room. He and Nathan went to sit with them. E.T. was rambling off something in my ear. He sounded eager about what he was saying.

"So...what do you think?" he finally paused to ask. I glanced at him. "I think you sound like an adult on a Peanuts show. All I heard was blah, blah, blah." Thank goodness E.T. was used to my being so blunt. He was a good buddy—the biggest geek I'd ever met—but a good buddy. E.T. Fitz, short for Elmer Theodore Fitz, was the prime target for ridicule at SEC. First of all, he was unlucky enough to be the middle son of Mr. and Mrs. Fitz who ran the funeral home in Stillburrow, which meant he grew up in a house where corpses were laid out in his basement on a regular basis. Plus, he was named Elmer. And since his last name started with an F, circumstances begged he be called Elmer Fudd. But the jokes didn't stop there.

Elmer was a genius. He was the president of the math club and if SEC had boasted a history or chess club, he would've been president of them too. He was proud of his wits, though. He once told me when I was sitting by him in the lunchroom, that at times he felt so smart he thought his head would explode from all the knowledge it contained. I told him to grow up. Then I took his chocolate milk and drank it. Elmer endured the ridicule very well. Usually, he didn't understand he was the brunt of the laughter. Either that or he ignored it with style. After seeing the movie E.T.: The Extra- Terrestrial for the first time, he decided he wanted to be referred to as E.T. from then on. He declared it was his 64

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

favorite movie and it had remained his favorite ever since. He was so excited he already had the initials for it, he went around telling everyone to call him that.

His classmates heartily agreed, because he kind of looked like the alien with his short legs and overly big head. E.T. never caught on that he was actually being made fun of whenever someone used his nickname, and I didn't have the heart to tell him. So the name stuck. And he liked it. Therefore, I couldn't complain.

Despite his braininess, E.T. sometimes seemed like the senile family pet—partly deaf and limping around on three legs. Everyone complained about him but no one had the heart to put him out of his misery. I had to love him, though. He was my best friend.

"About journalism class," E.T. was saying, snapping me back to attention. "I think we should move the survey I took about who believes in ghosts to page one." I made a face of horror. It took me hours to figure out where to place each article in The Central Record. And I became a tad testy when anyone questioned the end results of my layouts.

"I've already set Miss Bowman's retirement a

He put on his thinking face, where he scrunched up his mouth and wrinkled his nose. I prepared to shoot down any idea he had, so when all he said was a thoughtful, "Oh," I had to pause a second before I realized he wasn't going to argue with me.

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The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

But as soon as I let out a sigh of relief, he said, "Can we switch it with the sports section, then?" I snorted. "Yeah, right. That'd go over real well."

"But we're between seasons. Football and volleyball are over for the year and basketball hasn't even had a game yet."

"I don't care," I said. "We're not moving sports to the back page."

Actually, I agreed with E.T. on this score. The only things we had for the sports section in our next issue were a few pictures of the first day of basketball practice and a couple of quotes from the coach about how he thought the year would turn out. But I wasn't stupid. Sports were a big—no, a huge—

deal to the citizens of Stillburrow. Putting the sports section on the very back page, where obituaries were usually kept, would be like digging my own grave. Every parent and child who went to any sports game (and that was about ninety percent of the town) would throw a fit if the sports section was moved from its usual spot on page two. I'd probably lose my editing post.

But I never got around to explaining this to E.T. because Under-the-hill started class and asked everyone to pass their assignments forward. Quickly I whispered to E.T., asking which assignment that was. But Under-the-hill caught me talking and said, "Miss Paxton, where's your assignment?" So then the entire class grew quiet and stared at me, which made me search for the nearest place to hide. I could tell I even had Luke's attention because I knew what his stare felt like.

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The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

Mumbling, I admitted I'd forgotten about the assignment and Under-the-hill went into a ten-minute lecture on forgetfulness. All the while, I sunk deeper and deeper into my chair.

That should've been the end of my horror. I certainly thought it served as an overly just punishment. But no. Under-the-hill had to call me up to his desk to stay after class as well.

People glanced at me as they shuffled out. I waited till my row was clear before I approached his desk, but not everyone was gone. Luke was still across the room, gathering his supplies. I swore he was dawdling on purpose to hear me get ripped into. But I just wanted the speech to get underway and over with, so I ignored Carter's presence. Under-the-hill sighed wearily when he looked up at me. He slid off his glasses and rubbed his nose. "Miss Paxton, need I remind you what your grade is in this class?" I shuffled the pile of books in my arms because they suddenly felt heavy. "No."

"This class is primarily for seniors. I've let a few juniors join only because I thought they were ready. Now I had my doubts about you but you're usually a hard worker..." I gritted my teeth and silently cursed E.T. for pressuring me into taking this stupid course with him. He'd been all gung-ho for trigonometry and he'd begged me to take it too. I saw Luke across the room, finally rising from his chair and I glared, but he managed to keep his gaze from mine. The coward.