ANOTHER JUNIE-THING

Can't tell if I like this or not. D: It might be more effective when contextualized in the flashback-inducing heart-to-heart, but eeeeh.

(but mostly who REALLY cares about dramatic teen romances?)

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In tenth grade I got myself elected vice president of our debate club. I might as well have been the president, however, as our was always skipping meetings in favor of an ACT prep course and studying for her AP classes.

Logan had matriculated into my school again, and so he was forced to stay after school with me during meetings. He usually went to the computer lab, but it wasn’t always opened to students and sometimes he’d sit in the back of our room and make faces at me.

Jennifer was also a freshmen. I knew her through debate club, although she hadn’t officially joined and only attended meetings to “see what it was like.” She was always there when Logan came.

Months passed and she eventually joined. She won an award at the district’s debate tournament. The following year she ran for secretary and got the position. A week before thanksgiving break, she caught me in the bathroom between classes and told me she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Can’t stand what anymore?” I asked, washing my hands. To my surprise, she began to cry.

“L– L– Logan,” she managed to sob out. I frowned.

“Yeah, Logan’s an ass,” I agreed. She just cried harder.

“Has he been nasty to you?” I asked, wiping my hands on my pants. There were never any paper towels. “I know he has the maturity of an eight-year-old, but he’s not a bad guy. He probably doesn’t mean it–”

“No,” she howled. “He won’t– he’s not–” She said something that didn’t make any sense.

I put an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. “What’s he not doing?” I asked gently.

“He won’t like me back,” she sniffled.

My mind screeched to a halt. It had never occurred to me that girls could be attracted Logan of all people. He was– he was– ew.

“Come again?” I said, just to be sure I was hearing her right.

“I’ve asked him out four times now,” she said, wiping tears from her face. “He just won’t give me a chance.”

The first bell rang, indicating we only had two minutes to get to class. I bit my lip. “Oh, that sucks,” I said.

“Could you– could you talk to him?” she asked me meekly. She looked so miserable I agreed.

After dinner, I cornered Logan in the hall. “Did you know Jennifer has a mad crush on you?” I asked, grinning.

“Oh no,” Logan said and turned and power walked in the opposite direction. I followed, and he sped into a run. He barreled into the living room, but found his way blocked by the couch. He stopped and I ran into him, sending us both toppling over the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?” Matthew said, pausing the video game he was playing with Chris.

“Logan’s got a girlfriend,” I sang, rolling over and sitting up properly.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Logan whined, mimicking my actions. “She’s more like a stalker.”

“I’m too young to hear this,” said Chris and unpaused the video game. The sound of dramatic shouts and punching noises filled the room.

“What’s she been doing?” I asked.

Logan winced. “She just… she’s always talking to me.”

“Aw, poor you,” I said. “How dare she talk to you.”

He frowned back at me. “I wouldn’t mind her talking to me if that’s all she did. But if I talk back, she thinks that means something and that there should be more, and then she asks me out and I have to say no and she cries.” He paused. “Why do girls always cry?”

I shoved his shoulder. “We don’t always cry.”

“Nope,” said Chris over the din of his game, “some very special ones just have panic attacks and braid their hair.”

I looked for something to throw. There wasn’t anything. “You’re a brat,” I said. “And you used to be a huge cry baby.”

Chris shrugged.

“Do you like someone else?” I asked Logan.

“Not really.”

“Then why not take her out on one measly date? You might like it.”

“Or,” replied Logan, getting to his feet, “I could have zero interest in her and not.” He stalked off to his room. I joined my other brothers sitting on the carpet.

“Can I play?”

“No,” they chorused.

I founded Jennifer at lunch the next day.

“I tried, but he’s just not interested,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”

She was silent as she slowly unpacked her lunch and spread it across the table. She didn’t cry like Logan said she would, but she stared at her tupperware salad as if it were somewhere very far away.

“Why not?” She asked. Her voice cracked.

I didn’t know what to tell her. “He’s not worth it,” I said finally. “Trust me. He has like no personal hygiene.”

To my surprise, she glared at me, her noise and eyebrows wrinkling.

“You know, everyone tells me that. That– that if a boy doesn’t like me back, he’s not worth my time, that he doesn’t deserve me,” she said, her voice steadying as it filled with anger. “Hasn’t anyone thought that maybe I pick who is worthy of my time?”

“But–” I started. What was the point in getting upset over someone you couldn’t have?

“And I find it very insulting,” she went on, her eyes moving from mine back down to her salad, “that other people think they can judge what’s right for me and– and who I like.” The pitch of her voice rose hysterically. “I know it’s just to make me feel better, but it makes me feel worse.”

I hesitated, then reached over and took one of her hands in mine. “Sorry, sorry,” I shushed. “I just– I mean, Logan’s a nice guy, but he’s my brother and it’s hard for me to, uh” –I tried to think of the most political way to put it– “visualize the situ–”

“Tell me honestly,” Jennifer said. “What’s wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough? Not funny enough?”

I pulled my hands away from her and started scratching the inside of my wrist nervously under the table.

“I don’t think,” I said slowly, “there’s anything wrong with you. Logan said he didn’t mind talking to you. He’s just not interested in dating you.” It sounded stupid, but I couldn’t come up with a better way to explain it.

She slumped back in her chair as if hope has left her and taken her spine with it.

“What do I do now?” she asked.

“Go on with your life?” I tried.

“Is there a way to make someone love you?” she asked.

“Probably not,” I said.

I drove Logan and myself home after picking Mathew up from tennis practice. Logan managed to find the most annoying radio station and turned the volume up to ridiculous levels. I turned it off.

“So Jennifer’s really torn up about you,” I said conversationally.

From the back seat, Mathew groaned, “Not this again.”

“I told you, I’m not taking her out,” Logan said and shifted to stare out the window. “Just because she likes me on creepy stalker levels doesn’t mean I have to like her back.”

I raised my eyebrows at the road ahead. “You were serious about the stalker thing?”

Logan snorted. “Of course not. She just… why does she keep trying?”

“Yeah,” Mathew chimed in, “Why would anyone try to ask out Logan, much less continuously?”

“Shut it,” Logan said at the same time I asked, “What exactly don’t you like about her?”

“Geez,” Logan said, leaning over to turn the radio back on, “Why are you so obsessed with this? Can’t I just not like her?”

“I figure if you had a girlfriend, you’d be around less to bug me less,” I retorted.

“Why are you going this way?” Mathew asked. “Mom wanted us to pick up ground beef for dinner.”

I swore and did an illegal U-turn. I never brought up Jennifer again to Logan because what was I supposed to do? Guilt him into loving her?