The Crushes (6 page)

Rule 4:
Find out what your crush likes—hobbies, sports, music! Then immerse yourself in it!

Sydney was due at the photo contest awards ceremony at four in the afternoon. She’d gotten up somewhere around nine
A.M.
and was already showered and dressed. She sat at the dining room table, her knee bobbing nervously. She tapped her pen against her open journal.

She’d sat down intending to write a bit about how she was feeling, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate.

“Syd?”

Sydney looked across the table at Drew. He was working on his essay for his college applications. Drew wasn’t going to waste one moment of the summer, not when his senior year was so close.

“What?” Sydney said, setting her pen in the open spine of her journal.

“I can’t seem to concentrate,” Drew said, grinning. “And you aren’t exactly concentrating either.”

Sydney sighed and rubbed her forehead. She’d never been so nervous in her life. Entering the contest at the hospital had sounded like fun, but now that she knew people were examining the photo and judging it, she wanted to take the submission back.

“Get up,” Drew said. “I have an idea.”

“What kind of an idea?” Sydney asked, looking over at him warily.

He shut his notebook, then her journal, and held his hand out to her. “I’ll take you to the fish store. It always helps calm you down.”

Ever since her mom and dad took her to the New York Aquarium in Brooklyn, Sydney had been in love with marine wildlife. Seeing fish just relaxed her, and she hadn’t been to the fish store here in Birch Falls in what seemed like months.

Drew was right—going might calm her down——something she desperately needed if she was going to make it to the awards ceremony without hurling.

“All right,” she said, slipping into her tennis shoes. “Let’s go.”

Drew turned left down Franklin Avenue, which would take them to the I-99 East.

“Umm, is it too late to ask you to take the side streets?” Sydney said as Drew flicked on his blinker and got into the on-ramp turn lane.

He glanced over at her. “I’m already getting on the freeway. Besides, it’s quicker this way.”

“Yeah, but…” She trailed off as the stoplight turned green and Drew turned. He sped up, hitting fifty miles an hour quickly and bringing the car up to seventy as he merged onto the highway.

“I just like the side streets,” Sydney said. “The highway is so…boring. It’s just traffic and concrete.”

Drew took her hand in his, squeezing gently. “We’ll take the side streets next time. And you can bring your camera if you want. We can make a day of it.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that. “Okay.”

At one in the afternoon, traffic wasn’t too bad. Drew drove at a steady seventy-five miles an hour passing only two cars on the way to the fish store. Sydney stared out the passenger-side window, silent, zoning out as the green interstate signs became a blur.

When they got off the freeway, slowing down felt good. Sydney snapped out of the quiet. “I’ve been thinking about buying an aquarium,” she said as they waited beneath a stoplight.

“Oh yeah? I’ve been thinking about getting a dog.”

Sydney instantly tensed. “What kind of dog?”

Sydney liked dogs, she just didn’t like big dogs. When she was eight, the neighbor’s chow mix bit her on the hand when she got too close to his food. Ever since then, big dogs freaked her out to the point she felt like panicking whenever she was around one.

“I don’t know,” Drew said. “I guess whatever kind I find that I like.”

“Just not anything too big?”

He shrugged, barely glancing at her. “I guess it’ll just depend on what I find.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the large strip mall, and they got out, the sun shining through thin, white clouds. Sydney took Drew’s hand as they walked up. This felt good, the two of them together, getting out and doing something.

“You mind if I go to Pet Shop real quick? See the dogs?” Drew asked. “Then I’ll come to the fish store.”

Sydney nodded, letting go of his hand. “Sure.”

They parted, Drew going inside Pet Shop on the left, Sydney going inside the fish store on the right. Inside the small specialty shop, the outside world faded away. Here, there were no ceiling lights, only the soft glow of aquarium lights. With dozens of aquariums lined up together on every side of the shop, it almost felt like Sydney was in the ocean itself.

“Hi there,” a man said behind the counter. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Just looking, thanks.”

Sydney bypassed the shelves of empty aquariums, the display of aquarium stones and sculptures, heading directly to the fish. She started at the goldfish, ducking down to watch their orange bodies darting around one another. She moved on to the guppies and fancy goldfish and then the tropical fish.

A display tank took up almost an entire wall. A sign above it said T
HE
G
REAT
C
ORAL
R
EEF
. There was green fluorescent mushroom coral and yellow colony polyp among other things. There were a few anemones and sponges.

Two vibrant clown fish swam lazily in front. A blue tang poked its head out from behind a rock as an auriga buttefly-fish swam past.

Sydney moved on to the other same-species tanks, stopping to admire the black sea horses. They were, by far, her favorite. She could sit and watch them all day as they seemed to float in the water.

How much would it cost to put together a new tank? Would her dad help her with the expenses? Maybe Drew would—“Syd!”

She startled and straightened as Drew rushed over. “Come to the pet store,” he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her next door. He held the door open at Pet Shop, smiling like a kid in a toy store. Sydney went in, and a cacophony of barking dogs sounded from the back. It smelled like wet dog and dry cat food here. Not a bad smell, just not something Sydney was used to.

“In the back,” Drew said, winding through the aisles of dog and cat food and then the hamster cages and plastic exercise balls. They finally reached the back corner of the store, where an arched opening led to another room. Above the archway read P
ET
L
AND
in big, blocky letters.

Sydney went in beneath the archway and looked around. On one side of the room, puppies yipped from small kennels and on the other side, larger, adult dogs barked and jumped against their cages.

“Hey,” a woman crooned. “Calm down, you guys.” Several of the adult dogs quieted, sitting on their hind legs eyeing the short, petite woman intently. She had long black hair braided down her spine. Oversize square glasses sat low on a crooked nose.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said to Drew. “This must be your girlfriend, then?” She offered her hand to Sydney and Sydney shook it.

“Hi,” Sydney said.

“Your boyfriend here said he couldn’t adopt anything without your blessing.” The woman smiled. “But you look like a girl who can handle a Husky.”

“Um…Husky?”

The woman went behind a partition wall and came back out with a large, fluffy dog on a leash, its tail wagging happily behind.

“His name is Bear,” the woman said. “And I think he was meant for you two.”

Drew crouched down and scratched Bear beneath the chin. “I think he likes me,” Drew cooed. The dog was mostly white save for a patch of light brown fur at the top of his head and a spot on his back.

“Isn’t he cute?” the woman said, the leash hanging loosely from her hand. “He has eyes just like you.”

Sydney had to admit, if Drew had a twin in dog form, here it was. But adopting it? Sure, it was sitting there nicely now, but what happened when Drew took it home and Sydney accidentally got in the way of its food?

Her shoulders tensed, remembering that dog from so long ago, snarling and snapping at her. She shuddered, rubbing her fingers over the scar on her right hand where the neighbor’s dog had bit her. The bite itself hadn’t been that bad. It’d bled, of course, but she hadn’t needed stitches. Sydney’s mom had wanted the dog put to sleep, but the neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Yates, had sworn over and over again that the dog would be kept behind a privacy fence.

They kept to their word but moved just a year later.

“So what do you think?” Drew asked, looking up at Sydney expectantly.

She’d never told him about the dog bite so long ago and the lingering effects of it.

She reached over tentatively and patted the dog on the back, far, far away from its mouth and teeth. It turned slowly, watching her with those striking blue eyes. Sydney stepped back, putting her hands safely in her shorts pockets. “He’s pretty.”

“Isn’t he?” the woman said, running her hand down the dog’s back. “I wish I could take him home, but I have too many already! My husband would kill me if I brought one more home.”

“Cathy?” Drew said. “Can you give us a minute with him?”

“Sure.” The woman, presumably Cathy, handed Drew Bear’s leash and disappeared into an office in the back.

Standing now, the dog reached Drew mid-thigh, that’s how big he was. Drew pulled his fingers absently through the tuft of fur on the dog’s forehead. “He only has today, I guess,” Drew said softly. “Nobody has adopted him yet because he’s so big.”

“He
is
big.”

Big dog meant big teeth and an even bigger bite. Another image of the neighbor dog snarling flashed through her mind. Sydney blinked, trying to keep the chill at bay.

“I think we should adopt him,” Drew said softly.

We?
Sydney thought. She half grinned, liking the way he put it. He wanted to adopt a dog together, like they were starting their very own family or something. Family was the one thing Sydney was lacking lately.

“He’s house-trained,” Drew added as if he were trying to sell a used car with leather interior.

Maybe it would be fun, having a dog that Sydney and Drew saved together. And getting a dog would follow rule number four because Sydney was immersing herself in something Drew liked.

“All right,” she finally said. “Let’s adopt him.”

“Did you hear that, Bear?” Drew said. “You’re saved!” Bear barked several times before coming over to Sydney. He sat on his hind legs and glanced up at her as if to say, “Can I lick you or something?”

“He fell in love with you quick,” Drew said. “Just like I did.”

Sydney smiled. She was hesitant about the whole thing, but saving this dog seemed to make Drew happy, and he was the only thing she had left.

Rule 9:
Be yourself! He will like you for the real you!

Sydney crossed her legs, hoping to stop her fidgeting. A moment later, her foot tapped impatiently on the carpet, making her knee bob up and down. Her trip to the fish store had calmed her down, but then Drew had talked her into adopting a dog, a big dog at that, and…

She let out a breath. Right now, she needed to focus on the photo contest awards ceremony.

Drew sat on one side of her, Raven on the other. Alexia, Ben, Kelly, and Todd were all there, too. Sydney hadn’t expected them to come, but Kelly surprised her by telling their friends. They’d all been waiting for Sydney in the front lobby of Children’s Hospital at the start of the ceremony.

To be honest, Sydney was glad they were here. Sure, losing in front of them would be disappointing, but she liked having their support for something she felt so awkward with. Photography was new to her. Not to mention, some
people might think it a waste of time. But her friends didn’t and that made Sydney grateful.

Within the ten minutes the group had been seated, the room filled up. They were in the conference room on the first floor of Children’s Hospital surrounded by at least a hundred red chairs. The panel of judges, two men and two women, sat quietly in their chairs on a dais at the front of the room.

Sydney’s knee bobbed faster.

“It’s all right,” Drew whispered, setting his hand on her leg. “No matter what, at least you entered, right?”

She nodded.

At five minutes after four, the room quieted as a man took the podium on the dais. He was older, mid-forties, with thinning gray hair and black-framed glasses. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m Eddison Gerald, director of public relations. I’m glad you all could be here. Welcome to the fifth annual Children’s Hospital photo contest. For those of you who are new, every year we take photo entries from amateur photographers. Those photos are hung in our art hall for the children to view, to give them something beautiful to look at as they go through difficult treatments, working toward better health.

“And, to encourage submissions, we award first, second, and third prizes every year. Now let me introduce you to our panel of judges.”

He stepped back, pointing to the man seated on the far left. “We have Roy Harrison, a critic at the Yale School of Art. Katie Taylor, a professor at the New York Institute of Photography. Jamie Munson, director of photography at
Shutter
magazine, and leading photographer Cook Porter
whose photos have been in magazines such as
National Geographic
. Please welcome them.”

The room applauded. Sydney clapped quietly, her fingers trembling. She didn’t recognize the names of the judges, but if their credentials were any indication, they were prominent figures in the industry. Who was she to enter her photo? They’d probably seen her entry and laughed, picking it apart.

“Can we go?” she whispered to Drew.

“What, now?” He frowned. “It just started. I don’t want to stand up in the middle of it.”

“You okay?” Raven asked. “You look pale.”

“This was a bad idea,” Sydney said as the clapping quieted down. “Those judges are serious about this, and I’m just an amateur!”

“It’s an amateur contest,” Kelly pointed out.

“Now,” Mr. Gerald said, stepping up to the microphone, “along with a free two-year subscription to
Shutter
magazine, our winners will receive some other valuable prizes. Third place will receive a hundred dollar prize. Second place will receive a two hundred dollar prize and first place will receive a five hundred dollar prize.”

The room applauded again, the sound seeming in rhythm with Sydney’s rapidly beating heart. She wasn’t going to win, but she really, really wanted to place somewhere in the top three. Did she actually have talent? Should she continue to explore photography?

This moment seemed like a declaration of her future path. She pictured herself going away to art school, becoming a photographer, traveling the world, taking photos that meant something.

But if she lost today, maybe she’d continue down the path she already had planned. School at Yale, a degree in something serious like science or business.

Suddenly that didn’t sound so exciting.

Mr. Gerald raised his hand and people quieted.

“Third place goes to…”

A woman entered the room through a side door. In her hands she held a picture frame covered with a white cloth. She stepped up on the dais, standing next to Mr. Gerald. He grabbed a corner of the cloth and pulled it off quickly, exposing a photograph of a pink flower and a bee sitting in the middle.

“Macy Bernard.”

A girl near the front of the room stood and made her way up to the dais. She shook Mr. Gerald’s hand and accepted a framed award certificate with her name on it.

“Second place goes to…”

Another woman entered the room and went up onstage carrying a picture. Mr. Gerald pulled off the cloth to show a picture of a large maple tree, bare of leaves, standing tall against a storm-darkened sky.

“Michael Shallen.”

An older man went onstage, took his award certificate, and stood off to the side with Macy.

“Now,” Mr. Gerald said, “for our grand prize winner.”

The last picture came out, covered in a white cloth. The woman holding it smiled wide, her feet soundless as she went up the two steps to the dais. She stopped at Mr. Gerald’s side and looked out as if trying to spot the winner in the crowd.

Sydney squeezed her eyes shut, tried to slow her beating heart. She felt light-headed, her fingers trembling, her breath coming too quickly.

I can’t be the winner, it’s not me…

“Oh my god,” Kelly said.

“Is that…” Raven trailed off.

Sydney opened her eyes. There was her picture, framed in a beautiful mahogany frame, held up for the entire room to see.

“Sydney Howard!” Mr. Gerald said.

The room clapped. Sydney’s friends stood up, whistled.

“Go up there!” Kelly said. “Go on!”

Sydney stood on shaky legs. She’d won? That was her picture, but maybe there’d been a mistake.

She made her way to the dais, went up the steps to Mr. Gerald’s side. He shook her hand, congratulated her. She thanked him and took her award certificate, her name written big and bold in elegant cursive writing.

She’d won and, in her heart, she was now Sydney Howard, amateur photographer. It was an official title, she thought, a title that reflected who she was on the inside. She wanted to shed the old Sydney, the prim, perfect, proper Sydney. The one who took all the AP classes and had Yale, Harvard, and Stanford on her to-apply college list.

It was time to do what she wanted to do. It was time to be herself.