Rachel's Valentine Crush (10 page)

After dinner that night Rachel waited for her dad in the living room. It seemed like it took him forever to get
Robbie to sleep, but at last she heard his footsteps walking down the hall.

“Dad,” she said right away. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure, kiddo,” her father replied as he sat in his favorite armchair. “What's going on?”

“It's about tomorrow night,” Rachel began.

“Right, there's a dance at school, isn't there?” Mr. Wilson said. “Do you and Taylor need a ride?”

“Um, yeah, I mean, I do, but Taylor's going with Shane—”

“Shane? She's going to the dance with a boy?” Mr. Wilson asked in surprise. “I can't believe her parents would let her do that.”

A million warning lights started flashing in Rachel's mind, but she pressed on. The concert was in less than twenty-four hours. If she didn't tell her dad about it now, she might not get another chance.

“So the thing is,” she continued, “Brody Warner is giving a concert before the dance. Everyone in seventh and eighth grade got a free ticket, and—”

“I don't think so, Rachel,” Mr. Wilson interrupted her.

“Dad. Wait,” Rachel said, trying to control the frustration in her voice. “You didn't even let me finish—”

“That's because the answer is no,” Mr. Wilson replied calmly. “You're too young to go to a rock concert, kiddo. Maybe in three or four years.”

“But Dad! It's a huge deal!” Rachel said, raising her voice.

Grandma Nellie entered the living room with a worried look on her face. “Rachel, why don't you tell your dad why it's so important to you?” she suggested gently.

Rachel took a deep breath. She hadn't been planning to tell her dad about this, but if Grandma Nellie thought it was a good idea, maybe she should. The words rushed out of her mouth. “Brody's new album has this song, ‘Secret Crush.' And at the concert he's going to tell everyone who she is. It's been big news for weeks. In fact, there wasn't even a dance at school until Brody's concert was announced—”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. Wilson said. “You've known about the concert for
weeks
and you're just telling me now? Why didn't you mention it the other day?”

“Carl, hold on,” Grandma Nellie spoke up. “Rachel told me about the concert, and I think she should be allowed to go.”

Mr. Wilson stared at his mother in disbelief. “Why on
earth would you think that's your decision to make?” he asked.

“Because it was so obvious that you were going to say no without even thinking about it—” Rachel began.

“So you chose to lie to me instead?” Mr. Wilson said. “That just proves my point that you're too young for an event like this.”

“You're not letting me finish!” Rachel cried. “I do so much stuff around here and you never notice. It doesn't even matter how much I do because you keep treating me like a five-year-old! I'm
not
too young; I'm really responsible, but
you
just don't pay attention!”

“I don't appreciate that tone of voice,” snapped Mr. Wilson. “A responsible person wouldn't keep things from her father or talk to him that way. As punishment, you're not going to that dance tomorrow, Rachel, and you can forget about the concert.”

“That's
not fair
!” Rachel yelled. “I'm never allowed to do
anything
! I missed Brody's pool party last summer, I missed Brody's Chocolate Bar party, now I can miss Brody's concert and the Valentine's dance, even though every single one of my friends is allowed to go, and—”

“That's enough, Rachel!”

“It's not enough! Nothing I do is enough!” Rachel cried. “The concert is important to me, Dad! It
really matters
to me. Brody's been gone for
so long
and he's my friend. I miss him! And I've wondered and wondered and now I can finally find out who he likes—I can't believe you're going to make me miss it—”

Mr. Wilson looked confused. Then a sudden understanding dawned on his face. “You don't think
you're
Brody's crush, do you, Rachel?”

All the blood rushed to Rachel's face, burning her cheeks. Stinging tears sprung to her eyes as she realized what her father was really trying to say:
Rachel, there's no way a world-famous superstar could actually like
you.

“No,” Rachel said, her voice shaking. “Of course I don't think that. You're right, Dad. Brody Warner wouldn't waste his time on an immature, irresponsible
liar
like me.”

“Rachel—”

But it was too late. Rachel was already running down the hall to her bedroom, where it took all her resolve to shut the door quietly instead of slamming it like she wanted to. She curled up on her bed and burst into tears,
hiding her face in her pillow. Grandma Nellie knocked two separate times, but Rachel didn't answer. There was nothing that Grandma Nellie could say or do that would make her feel better.

When she was all cried out, Rachel took a deep, trembling breath and wiped her face. She didn't know what to do next. She was afraid to leave her room because she knew her dad must be furious at her. She was too upset to try to explain to him that she hadn't lied about the concert . . . and besides, it was really unfair that he had jumped to the conclusion that she had lied in the first place. The truth was, Rachel was really mad
and
frustrated
and
sad.

She sat down at her computer and decided to check her e-mail.

From: [email protected]

To: friends [list]

Date: February 13

Subject: Tomorrow night

Guys, it was awesome to see you last night. I wish I had more time to hang out with each one of you. Let's keep the party going, k? There's a VIP lounge at the arena and I'll be hanging out there before the concert. I put your names on the list, so if you can get to the arena early, stop by and chill. It's on the second floor—use the far-left stairs. See you tomorrow!

BRODY

That's great,
Rachel thought.
Another chance to see Brody . . . another chance to find out if Tammy was right . . . another fun thing my dad will make me miss.

Rachel deleted the e-mail without bothering to read it again. Then she turned off the light and went to bed.

IN THE GRAY LIGHT OF
Dawn Rachel's eyes snapped open. For a brief, wonderful moment she remembered that it was Valentine's Day, and in just a few more hours she would see Brody at the dance. The identity of Brody's secret crush would be revealed, and all of Rachel's questions would be answered at last.

Then, like a nightmare, the memory of fighting with her dad came rushing back. A heavy sadness settled over Rachel as she realized there would be no concert for her. No dance. And no time with Brody. What a long, miserable day stretched out before her. And how would she get through the evening, knowing what she was missing? It had been hard enough to sit at home while the Chocolate Bar party was happening downtown. Tonight would be about a million times worse.

Rachel walked across her bedroom and listened
carefully at the door. The house was very quiet—so quiet that she was certain that everyone else was still asleep. Moving soundlessly, Rachel crept down the hall to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cold cereal so that she could eat breakfast by herself. Yes, it was Valentine's Day, and that meant that Grandma Nellie would be making heart-shaped pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream—but Rachel didn't think she could choke down a single bite. And she certainly couldn't sit across the table from her father and act like nothing was wrong.

Back in her room Rachel crawled into bed and forced herself to fall asleep again. It was better than the alternative: watching the clock and counting down the hours to the loneliest night of her life.

The next time Rachel awoke, it was to a soft
tap-tap-tap
on her door. She rolled over in bed and waited for the knocking to stop. But when it didn't, she finally got up.

“Grandma Nellie, I just want to be alone right now,” Rachel said through the closed door.

“Actually, Rachel, it's me,” her dad's voice answered. “Can I come in?”

Rachel hesitated for a moment. She didn't feel ready
to face her dad, not after their terrible argument.

Then he added, “Please?”

Without speaking, Rachel opened the door. Mr. Wilson followed her into the room and sat down at the foot of the bed. Rachel perched on the edge of her desk and waited for him to speak.

“It's a funny thing, being a parent,” Mr. Wilson finally began. “It's like having a dozen different pairs of eyes at the same time. Because when I look at you, Rachel, I don't just see you as you are today. I see you when you were nine years old and you had your first solo in the choir, and the way your face glowed with happiness. I see you when you were five years old, on the first day of kindergarten—the way you skipped into the classroom without ever looking back. I see you when you were one, taking your very first steps away from me, and the big grin on your face as you realized, for the first time, what it felt like to be independent . . . for a moment, at least.

“You're growing up so fast, and sometimes it's hard for me to remember that you're not a little girl anymore. Because you're always going to be
my
little girl—no matter how big you are.”

Rachel stared at the floor. She wasn't quite sure what to say.

Mr. Wilson sighed. “You have to be patient with your old dad. I'm not very good at this. But I guess what I'm trying to say, Rachel, is that I'm sorry for last night. I'm not proud of the way I handled our argument.”

“I'm sorry too,” Rachel said. “I wasn't trying to lie to you, Dad. I was always going to tell you about the concert. I just waited too long, I think. Because I guess part of me always knew that you were going to say no, so until I asked, I could at least pretend that there was still a chance.”

“But I don't want to be the dad who always says no,” Mr. Wilson replied. “I don't want you to feel like you have to keep things from me. And most of all, I'm disappointed in myself for hurting your feelings. About—” Mr. Wilson paused to clear his throat, “about Brody—please understand where my reaction came from. I was honestly so surprised to realize that my sweet little girl is old enough to inspire love songs. But of course you are. And really, what's not to love?”

For the first time all day, Rachel smiled a little.

“I want you to go to the concert and the dance
tonight, Rachel,” Mr. Wilson said. “Because I know that you're old enough, and smart enough, to make good decisions—and to take care of yourself. After all, look at how much you do to take care of everyone else around here . . . every day.”

Rachel could hardly believe her ears. “Seriously?” she squealed. “Do you mean it, Dad?”

“I do,” he replied. “I love you, Rachel. And I hope that you have a wonderful time tonight.”

Rachel gave her dad a huge hug and kissed him on the cheek. Then she immediately started texting Taylor. The concert started in less than four hours—and Rachel needed her best friend more than ever!