The Trouble With Crushes

        "You so wanna do her, don't you?!"
       
        As if the words of my friend, Gunther, could help me any. But he's right. She's so beautiful, so perfect, so...

        "Heh! Forget it, man! The only way you're getting her is in your dreams!"

        ... So out of my league. Okay. Let me start by mentioning a few key details so you're not so perplexed the whole time. My name is Andrew Matthews, best known as most invisible teenager on Earth, and the guy making the smart-ass comments, sitting right in front of me at our lunch table, is the one I mentioned earlier, Gunther.

        The girl we are talking about is barely seven-and-a-half feet away from me and sitting with all of the preps, the people I'll never be. Her name is Stacey. She has the face of a goddess, the temper of short-fuse dynamite, hair as dark brown as dark chocolate with auburn touches throughout, and the body of an hourglass. And God, how much I'd like to wrap my hands around it... Of course, then she'd kill me.

          "Dude," said Royce, who was placed right beside me. "You keep staring at her, she'll notice. Then she'll get all touchy, come over here, and whoop yer ass. And I'm not prepared to clean that up!"

          "I know," I replied as I kept my eyes on her arched back. "There's just too much about her that keeps me looking. She's a friggin' magnet."

          "Thank you for your wonderful words, Liberacci." Collin called, as he walked over to our table and sat beside Gunther. "If you like her so much, go up and talk to her."
         
          I laughed. That's just rich. A nerd like me goes and talks to a beautiful girl like her. Nothing doing, man! "In a million years, Collin. Plus, I love my face. I don't need Richard beating it up."

        Richard McFillard, king of the football field, is the new contestant on "Who Wants To Get Down Stacey's Pants?". He has a nine-out-ot-ten chance of succeeding. And he always does. I have a snowball's chance in Hell, undoubtedly. Then, for that moment, Gunther thought that he struck the gold in the idea mine.

        "You could do what my cousin Eli did."
       
        "And what would that be, Gun-Slinger?" I remarked as I turned to him. I'm never impressed with Gunther's ideas. One year, he had the four of us dress in Speedos and run around town in the dead of night, exclaiming with pride that his older brother did it once and didn't get caught. So, at midnight, we went running with the wind making us as cold as a Queen Bee's heart. The police caught us and had us escorted home. My mom is STILL too embarassed to mention it in full detail to anyone.

          "You could stalk her for a night. See what she does, find her interests."

          I wasn't shocked when it sounded like a stupid idea. The last thing I needed was to obtain a restraint order from the girl of my dreams and her big, bad, lawyer of a father.

          "Gunther. you are a dumbass! Do I look like I need to spend a night in jail?" I snapped, in no mood for ridiculously idiotic ideas.

          "Fine, then I triple-dare ya, you frickin' chicken!"

          Them's fightin' words in a man's book. Even if the words are from a goober whose arms are flapping like that of a distressed chicken. I huffed, and I puffed. I was about to take Gunther up on that, and sadly, there was no stopping my mouth when I started talking.

          "Fine, Gum-Shoe. I'll do it. I'll stalk her for a night."

            Gunther crossed his arms in victory. He smirked as if he were the most clever person in the world, which isn't going to happen anytime soon. He just knew which buttons to push. The bell for seventh period rang, and I turned around, hopeful for one last glance at Stacey. But surprise, surprise! She was gone, probably in Richard's arms. I sighed, giving a miniature bang with my fist onto the wooden table. I grabbed my books and headed to calculus.

            At 4:35 pm, I was at home and up the stairs, neither of my parents at home and my older sister probably out at the mall, ready to party hearty with her "astute" college friends. I ran up the stairs and walked down the hallway, opening the first door, my bedroom door, with extreme caution. Ever since my mom got my cat Xavier neutered, he has dubbed me his personal torture object.

            When I found that the cat had not taken refuge in my room, I threw my backpack across the floor, and then I threw myself down onto my bed. I breathed deeply, contemplating how I was going to spy on Stacey. After sitting up, the multiple excuses to why I would not be at home this evening came flowing in. Not even seventy-five percent were believable. So, instead, I just prayed that my parents would be completely inebriated by 8 pm tonight.

            "Andy, dinner time!" The voice, which belonged to my mother, sounded like that of a wino. I was in the clear. It was 7:30. Only half an hour left until I risk my life to get the girl I have been vying for for so long.

            I rushed downstairs, barely dodging the cat. I walked past my dad's office, which had a note on the door that read:

            At work. Don't know when I'll be home.
                                            Love,
                                              Jared

            That was the key phrase that meant "Hey, I'm sleeping around tonight. I'll see you tomorrow." My prayers were answered. Of course, that also explains why mom was drunk. This means she's bringing someone over, and now she needs a reason to kick me out of the house. I walked into the kitchen, giving the best pitiful look I could.

            "Hey, sweetie," my mom said, cigarette in one hand, wine glass in the other. "Okay, so, you're going to have to make yourself a sandwich or something. I'm kind of... "

            Drunk?

            "... by right now, so I'm sorry." She adds a smile to her catch phrase. Well, busy wasn't the word I was thinking of, but it was the secret code for drunk, so bingo. Now for the excuse.

            "Well, I was thinking that I could go grab a bite with Royce and stay over at his house for the night." I rubbed my neck, nervous beyond a reasonable doubt.

            Mom stared at me for a second, a look that seemed like suspicion. Maybe she wasn't drunk enough. I closed my eyes, begging for her to fall for that one.

            "Sure, honey. It's good that you like to spend time with your boyfriends. It's important for a young man's character." She emphasized by jabbing her finger in the air, almost falling over in the process. She smiled widely. Hook, line, and sinker.

            I packed my things and hauled ass out of the house. I decided to hide in the bushes for a few short minutes. It was 7:45 when I looked down at my watch. I still had time. By 7:48, a car pulled up, and I knew it wasn't my dad's, because he doesn't believe in Buicks. Plus, the man who stepped out of the car looked like he belonged in some Latino version of 'Desperate Housewives.' I chuckled and ducked out, running up the street in the opposite direction.

            After hitting Lincoln Street, I stopped at the corner, took a piece of paper out of my coat pocket, and looked at the words scrawled on it: 319 Balthasar Ave. I looked up at the street signs posted at the intersection. Balthasar went to the left, and so did I. I booked it until I was two houses away, then I snuck into the backyard of 315 Balthasar and made my way over. Thank God no one in my neighborhood believes in alarms, or my ass would be grass.

            I ran my way to the left side of the backyard, where a great oak was growing. Making my way up the oak, I watched my footing. The last thing I wanted to do was slip down and kill myself in front of Stacey's house. I found her window pretty easily, seeing as it was the only creamy orange room in the house. I jumped onto her balcony and opened the window.

            Now, I'm definitely sure that no one in this town cares about their safety anymore.

            "Okay, mom! I heard you! I'm working on it right now!" The voice, which I quickly recognized as Stacey's, was right outside her bedroom door.

            "Shit! " I whispered as I looked for a good place to hide. Then it hit me. The cliche of all cliches! The closet. I rushed for it and quietly opened the door, slipping myself safely inside as she opened her bedroom door. I left a crack for me to see through, so that I can catch a good glimpse of Stacey's lifestyle.

              She closed the door and walked over to her desk, jotting something down on paper. I could hear the loud scratches. She was probably writing in her diary about how shitty her mom is. Go figure; I'm more than sure that my sister Stefanie does the same thing about our parents, though I could care less. She grunted loudly as she tossed something across the room. It hit the wal with a dull thud. She stormed over, standing right in front of the closet door. I held my freath as deep as I could without being heard. She was only in her bra and underpants. Not even a foot away from me. I was ready to turn blue just as she walked away from the doors. Someone opened the door and closed it again. I thought it was Stacey until I heard another voice.

            "Stacey, I don't see why you're being so difficult." It must have been her mother.

            "Maybe you shouldn't call me your little whore in front of all of your little friends then." Her fuse was lit, ladies and gentlemen!

          "Well, look at you, sweetie! Parading around in your undies," she said, chuckling as if someone presented a quirky and witty satire to her a week ago. "You scream it."

          I could almost hear Stacey's teeth gritting. "Just leave and let me be, please." She emphasized the last part as if she were going to pull a muscle saying it. The door closed again. I could hear Stacey dropping her weight on her bed. She was sniffling. I so badly wanted to leap out of the closet, wrap my arms around her, and dry off her tears. Then, I heard a thud from behind me. I turned around to see that I knocked down all of her dresses. I just threw myself into the porcelain shithole.

        All of a sudden, the closet door swung open, and before me was a pissed-off Stacey Meyers in her skivvies.

          "Hey, Stace." I said, waving slightly. I knew that I was in for it now.

          "How in God's name did you get in here,nerd?" She was tapping her foot now. She wasn't going to wait for an answer.

            "You really should lock your windows." I said as I weakly chuckled.

            She was preparing to scream. "MO----"
         
              I grabbed her mouth as quickly as I could, making sure she couldn't finish. I pushed a finger up to my pursed lips, signalling her to be quiet. She grabbed my hand and moved it from her mouth as I removed my finger from my lips.

            "Why the Hell are you here?" She whispered.

            "I got dared to stalk you for the night."

              "Honey, what was that?" This time, the question was stated in a husky male voice. I knew I was screwed. Stacey never took her angry eyes off of me for a second as she answered, and I never took my pleading eyes off of hers.

              "Nothing, dad. Everything's fine."

              I sighed deeply and smiled. "Thanks. You saved my ass."

              She didn't change her expression. "Look. I'm going to get some clothes on, you are going to sneak back out of my window, and I'm going to take you home. Got it?"

              Unlike her, I changed my expression greatly. I knew now that my chances to get her were past nonexistant. "Yeah, I understand." I smiled just a bit to show her that I got the point.

                I crawled back out the window onto the front lawn and waited patiently for Stacey to appear. My head was lowered as I tried to wipe my eyes of the tears that had formed from Satcey's ice-cold expression of hate. Why should I be crying, though?! I KNEW damn well that I didn't have a chance.

              "Dammit!" I whispered as I kicked the grass.

                The front door slammed shut, and Stacey walked over to me. I raised my head to find that Stacey's expression had softened, but only infinitesimally. It wasn't enough to tell a difference, even though I could. I tried smiling, but I just found myself frowning.

              "So, where do you live?"

                I pondered a second, thinking of lying. Then, I said, "Just walk me to the Mickey D's near here. I don't feel like going home tonight."

                She stared at me for a moment, as if the answer to one of the world's greatest mysteries was in my eyes. "Suit yourself." She sighed.

              We started our long journey across town. We crept past sleeping cul-de-sacs and homes lining the streets. I looked over and down Lincoln Street, my eyes seeking the Buick that was parked in front of my house, but it was too far away to see. I sighed ad looked ahead. Stacey looked over at me and then back in front of her.

            "So," she finally said after a long silence. "What's your name? And how do you know mine?"

            "Heh!" I chuckled loudly."Who doesn't know your name? As for mine, it's Andrew. Andrew Matthews."

              "Oh. You're the really smart guy who keeps winning all of those rewards for the really hard classes." She said, sweeping hair out of her face.

              I smiled. She knew who I was. Barely, yeah, but she still knew me. "Wow. You heard of me. That's cool."

              I looked over to see her smile. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get some of those awards, too, you know, so I get a little pissed when I hear your name and not mine." She chuckled a bit. So, she has brains to go with her body. Yes! I have scored the jackpot!

            "You don't really like your parents, do you?" I inquired.

            Her face resumed to that of anger. "Why is it any of your business."

            "Because. I know how you feel, Stacey."

              She glared at me. "You'll never know how I feel, so don't act like you--"

              I put my hand up and stopped where I was. I turned to face her. I took a deep sigh, looked down the street, and then returned my gaze to her. "My mom is a drunk who smokes three packs a day, my dad does coke, and both of my parents are swingers."

              Stacey's mouth dropped three feet. She closed it quickly and looked around. She opened her mouth again. "Wow. Sorry, I-- I didn't know. I'm so sorry. My life is nothing like that. I mean, my mom's a bitch, and my dad doesn't give a flying rat's ass, but whoa. I didn't know."

              "That's okay," I laughed. "Not many people do." We continued to walk down the empty street. We got to McDonald's at about 10:00 pm. I turned to say good- bye, but Stacey put her hand up to my mouth, preventing speech.

              "Let's go somewhere. My parents don't care what time I get back. How 'bout you?" I smiled and nodded my head. We ran off down the way we came.

                We reached Radford Ave. and made a left until we reached a house that was shaking with booming music and flashing with flourescent lights. An epileptic person wouldn't have survived for a second here.

              "Come on, Andrew." Stacey said, holding my hand and pulling me forward. We entered the party house. None of the people were recognizable, but that's the fun thing about parties in this neighborhood. You just walk in to them. We began to dance (even though I can't bust a damn move to save my life).

              "You're not too bad." Stacey said, trying hard not to chuckle.

              "Don't lie." I said, trying to be heard over the music.

                She leaned in closer, putting her body up against mine and placing my haands on her hips. "This doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" She asked. She knew I didn't have experience in this area. Brilliant.

                "I'm just fine. Don't worry." We danced for a while, clearing out with everyone else at about 1:23 am.

                We strolled down the street, two very identical people on the inside with no particular place to go and no particular urge to go home. We walked to a park outside of town. I dropped my stuff down and looked at my watch. 2:30 am. I figured that the night had been going well for what it's worth. Stacey was sitting at the edge of the park, facing away from the town. I went and sat beside her.

                She looked over at me with a look of perpexity. "Why were you stalking me tonight?" I was desperately hoping she wouldn't ask that.

                I took a deep breath in and told her everything. "My buddy Gunther said that I should stalk you to figure out what you were like. I knew that I had no chance with you anyway, so I told him he was an idiot. He called me a chicken, then I said I'd take him on and stalk you. There." I looked over to find her laughing. "What's so funny?"

              "You could have just come up and said hi. That is alot easier than stalking. And getting caught." She was smiling widely now.

              I looked at her, trying very hard not to look amused at first but laughing soon afterwards. "That's not funny."

              "Yes, it is!"

              We stopped laughing and just smiled now. I coughed a little and looked away, a classic move. She brought her knees up to her chest and held them there. I looked up at the sky, at the stars. It made the sky look like a big freckled face. I sighed and glanced over at Stacey, who was still staring at the ground with her knees to her chest. She looked at me; for a moment our gaze was locked.  I brought my head forward as she did and brushed her lips with mine. Then, her hands stroked the side of my face, and she pushed her lips onto mine. For me, this seemed like forever, but in no time, I had fallen over, Stacey on top of me. But, the Hell if I had the intention of getting back up!

            She moved her hands from my face down to my jacket, unzipping it as her hand moved downward. I moved my head away for a second to catch my breath and them pushed my lips back against hers. I ran my fingers through her hair and then unzipped her hoodie.

            I have scored, but dammit, I don't know what I'm doing! HELP!

              Or at least I didn't until she moved my hands for me. She held my hand over her breast, and I cupped it. Then, Stacey backed away. She started to chuckle.
 
              "Maybe we should take this one step at a time," she whispered, as she got off of me, leaving her jacket unzipped.

              "Well," I said breathlessly. "No time like the present."

              She laughed again and shook her head. "Not tonight, Kemosabe." I smiled and sighed. I got up and glanced at my watch. 3:12 am.

              "So, what now?" I asked, looking over at Stacey.

                She looked back at me, then at the ground, then shrugged. She looked at me again. "Want to spend the night in the park?" She asked, grinning widely. I shrugged and then nodded.

                I laid myself slowly to the ground, and Stacey took her place beside me. She fell asleep quickly, and I wasn't too far behind her. We woke up some time after, because there were lights in the sky, brighter than the stars. The sun was rising. I looked my watch in worry. 5:59 am. I looked at Stacey who was standing up, just as worried as I was.

              "Shit!" She said, pacing back and forth.

              "Looks like we need to run, huh?"

              We booked our way back into town, dodging cars and joggers. I got Stacey home by 6:55 am, just before her mom came in. She pulled off an excuse, saying she got in t 11:00 last night, but everyone was asleep, which must have worked, because her mom was satisfied. She came back to the window, looking at me with soft, brown eyes, unlike the ones I had received the night before.

              "I'll see you later, Andrew." She smiled and kissed me on the nose.

              "Alright," I said, kissing her back.

                I hurried down the tree and got to Royce's house by 7:10 and changed by 7:20. Royce looked at me with anticipation of news on Stacey. "So?"

              "Later." I said, not too worried about that. "Has my mom called yet?"

              "Nope."

              "Good. Then she won't at all. She's probably got a big-ass hangover."

              By the time lunch came around, I found Stacey sitting at a different table all by herself. I looked at her, sighed, and then smiled gently.

              "Bet you didn't stalk her!" Gunther jeered.

                "He did." Royce vouched. I told him everything on the bus. I couldn't leave my number one amigo out!

                "Then go sit with her." Collin chimed in.

                I simply grinned at them and walked away. I made my way over to the empty table, praying that she hadn't forgotten last night, that she wouldn't ridicule me or jeer at me. She looked up, not a frown of disgust but a grin on her face. She put down her Coke can and then took a glance over at my friends then hers, making sure that both were watching carefully. Then, she placed her hand on top of mine and then kissed me deeply. After she pulled away, I looked over at Gunther, who was slack-jawed.

              "I win."