9th Grade, High School
Age: 14-15
January 2007
…
TJ leans against Spinelli's locker, lazily batting the strings of his hoodie while he waits for her. They agreed this morning to stop by Mr. Dudikoff's classroom before lunch to officially put their names into the running for class president and vice president. Names have to be in by the end of the week, so there's no point in waiting. Instead, they can get all the information and prepare for battle against the stiff competition TJ is sure they'll be up against.
He looks up and glances down the hallway to see if Spinelli is visible yet. Her class before lunch is in the basement, in a corner of the school about as physically far from her locker as possible. She is nowhere to be seen and he inwardly groans at what he sees instead.
Ashley Quinlan crosses her arms. "You're, like, totally blocking my locker, Detloser."
The administrative staff that assigns the lockers couldn't have possibly known the animosity between Ashley Q and Spinelli when they assigned the two girls lockers immediately next to each other. It had to have been random, with the incoming freshmen assigned to lockers all over the school building. Completely random, but unfortunate nonetheless.
TJ inches just slightly over and flashes a sarcastic smile.
"My apologies, I had no idea," he says, his voice too sweet to be serious. He nods to the group of girls standing behind her. "Ashleys."
Ashley Q rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath, slightly pushing him as she steps forward. While she's busy at the locker, Ashley A takes a half step toward him.
"So, a little birdy told me that you're running for class president," Ashley A says.
TJ's eyes narrow at her smirk. "Your bird might have heard right."
Ashley B and Ashley T look between each other. An identical smirk to Ashley A's form on their faces as they turn back.
"If that's the case, we would like to offer our services toward your campaign," Ashley A continues. "Our endorsement would go a long way."
TJ stares at Ashley A, trying to figure her out. The Ashleys are not altruistic. Every action they have taken since kindergarten has been done to further some agenda of theirs. As Gretchen would say, every action has an equal and opposite reaction – for the Ashleys, they ensure that those reactions garner them some sort of gain, be it monetary, social, or a mixture of both. But as he watches her, her smirk unwavering and her stare impenetrable, he can't see how assisting him in becoming president would benefit her in the slightest.
"What's in it for you?"
"Pour moi?" Ashley A says, sounding outraged.
He raises an eyebrow in response, knowing she'll break if he doesn't respond. And she does, just as she always does.
Ashley A's shoulders sink just slightly and she rolls her eyes.
"So, like, if you get elected now, you'll be president for sophomore year as well," she says. "And I'm sure you haven't, like, looked forward enough to realize what sophomores are responsible for."
She's right. He did know that they wouldn't be doing another election at the end of the school year like they'll do as sophomores and juniors. An election in January, followed by an election in May or June doesn't make much sense, so instead the president elected midway through freshman year is also president for sophomore year as well. Then, elections for junior year are held at the end of the spring semester, just as they will be for senior year. But TJ wasn't focused on sophomore year presidential duties. At the moment, all he has thought about is how he can possibly win.
Unfortunately for him, the Ashleys seem to know more than he does.
"And what are sophomores responsible for?"
"Homecoming," they say in unison.
"Sophomores do homecoming and obviously juniors and seniors do the proms," Ashley B adds, speaking slowly as if talking to a toddler, her arms crossed and hip out to the side. "Like, get with the program, Detweiler."
TJ nods his head and looks among the Ashleys. "So, you all want to be in charge of homecoming. That way you can boss everyone around like you did with the hall and floats this year."
"Look, we totally didn't boss people around," Ashley B says, her hands moving to her hips. "We gave instructions. It's not our fault if, like, no one can follow an order."
"I remember it slightly differently," TJ says.
"TJ, it's mutually beneficial," Ashley T says, speaking up for the first time. TJ turns toward her and she gives a small smile. "We endorse. You get to be president. We get to plan homecoming. Win-win."
"So, who are you running with anyway? Vince?" Ashley B asks, barely letting Ashley T finish. "I suppose you two might be popular enough to squeak out a win without us, but it totally won't be a given."
"I'm running with Spinelli."
All the Ashleys turn to look at each other.
"Really?" Ashley A says, eyebrows raised. When she speaks again, she talks to herself. "Interesting."
Ashley Q slams her locker door and snorts. "Yeah, forget it. You freaks will need all the help we can give."
"I think we'll be just fine." He turns to Ashley A. "So, thanks, but we're good."
"Dig your own grave then," Ashley Q sings, linking arms with Ashley B.
The two giggle and turn, cackling through the hallway. Ashley T stays in place, eyes on Ashley A, who is still staring at TJ with a calculating look.
"Yes?" He draws out the word as he says it.
She shrugs and steps back to stand in line with Ashley T.
"Well, best of luck." She eyes something over his shoulder and then smirks. "We'll start planning for homecoming. Like Ashley Q said, you'll need all the help you can get."
She and Ashley T both turn and begin to follow the other Ashleys down the hall. He shakes his head. Three and a half more years and he'll never have to deal with the Ashleys again.
"What did they want?"
TJ looks over his shoulder to see Spinelli standing beside him, arms crossed and watching Ashley A and Ashley T following the other two. He steps out of the way so she can get into her locker and she keeps her eyes on the Ashleys as she moves to unlock it. She finally looks away while she spins the combination and TJ takes up his spot leaning against Ashley Q's locker.
He shrugs. "They wanted to wish us luck."
Spinelli snorts as she opens the door. "Yeah. Sure. And the earth is flat."
"They want to plan homecoming," he tells her as she kneels on the ground, removing books and folders from her backpack and stuffing them in her locker. "So, I guess that means they want us to win because they think we'll let them."
"Pfft."
Spinelli stands, reaching for her science textbook before slamming the door behind her. She holds the book against her chest and shakes her head.
"They can go right ahead for all I care," she says. "Planning that sounds like downright torture."
"Oh, I think we could definitely plan it," he replies.
"Yeah, but the question is, do we want to?"
When she starts to smile, he realizes she is thinking the same thing he is thinking. No, neither of them have any desire to plan a dance. But someone they know would.
"Mikey," they say together.
They both chuckle and he throws his head over his shoulder to gesture down the hall.
"Ready to sign your life away to this campaign?"
She rolls her eyes and starts walking beside him. "Didn't realize I was signing in blood."
"The Ashleys seem to think we need a lot of help," he teases.
"We probably do," she teases back. She pauses for a moment and he turns, stopping with her and waiting to see what she has to say next. "You're not second guessing this, right?"
He shakes his head.
"Nah." She grins and he tugs on one of her braids. "Yesterday a girl gave me some pretty good advice about giving things a shot."
"Good," she says. She starts walking again and he falls into stride next to her. "It was weird seeing you down on yourself like that."
He puts his arm around her shoulder. "Well, you helped me out of that funk. Just goes to show how important a good support system is."
He gives her shoulders a squeeze, but leaves his arm where it is as they continue down the hallway toward Dudikoff's physics classroom. When they arrive, no one else is around. TJ knocks on the doorframe as they enter, catching Dudikoff's attention. He looks up from packets of classwork that he's grading.
"TJ, Spinelli," he greets with a warm smile. "You two here for election stuff?"
TJ nods. "Yeah, what do we need to do?
Dudikoff leans across his desk and grabs a piece of paper and a pen.
"I need you both to sign this. Whoevers running for president and VP on each line," he says, gesturing with his fingers to the two separate lines as he sets the paper in front of them. "And then I'll give you a packet that has all the rules about posters and speech length and that kind of stuff."
TJ grabs the pen first and takes a quick glance at the list. There is only one other duo at the moment – Adam Hamilton and James Phillips. He knows of them. They both went to Washington Middle School and play different sports than TJ does. Adam, or AZ as he's called, plays soccer and lacrosse. James does as well and is a pretty talented hurdler on the track team. He doesn't know much about either of them personally, but AZ can sometimes come off as having an air of superiority to him.
He is surprised not to see CJ. Maybe she just hasn't come yet. She would be a good leader as well.
He passes the pen to Spinelli and takes the information packet from Dudikoff, who explains the basics. They have to prepare a speech that they'll deliver in the gym for all the freshmen the day before the election. There is a time limit to be aware of and a couple of rules for any posters they want to make. Otherwise, it seems to be pretty much fair game.
"Any questions?" Dudikoff asks. Both shake their heads. "Alright, well that's all you need from me. Good luck, guys! You'd be great!"
When they walk out of the room, Spinelli elbows TJ in the side. "I think the Dude is rooting for you."
TJ rolls his eyes. "You mean, he's rooting for us. And he probably says that to everyone."
She shrugs. "I don't know. He seemed a little over-excited to me." She smirks. "His eyes lit up when he saw you. Perfect presidential material is definitely what he was thinking."
"Well, the Dude doesn't vote, so it doesn't matter," he says. "We're going to need to make a solid campaign. Once Vince gets his hands on it, hopefully we won't need the Ashleys."
Spinelli nods her head slowly and looks down at her shoes. TJ frowns at her sudden change in demeanor and stops her in the hallway. "Hey?"
"How did Vince take it when you told him you chose me as VP?" she asks slowly.
"I haven't talked to Vince yet," he tells her.
He and Spinelli had spent most of their free time last night on his English paper and then spent a few hours before bed discussing the election on the phone. They had been late this morning, as usual, and so he hadn't had a chance to talk to Vince yet. He doesn't have class with him until after lunch.
Spinelli's eyes widen.
"You haven't?" she asks. "And the Ashleys already know?"
"I really don't think it's going to be that big of a deal, Spin."
"You don't think he's gonna care if he finds out from the Ashleys and not you?"
He honestly doesn't think Vince cares much for school politics anymore. Vince is so busy with sports and the last time he ran for any sort of office was at Third Street. Once Gretchen beat him in fourth grade, and she actually started to make use of the position by creating her council of students and talking to Principal Prickly about topics pertinent to the students, Vince threw everything he had each year into making sure Gretchen won the next class election. TJ figured Vince would do much of the same for him.
"Well, if the Ashleys were going to tell him, the Ashleys have already told him," he says. "And besides, I really don't think it's going to be a big deal. It's not like I told him he was going to be VP or anything and then changed my mind without telling him."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Over Spinelli's shoulder, he sees one of the doors to the outside open and close. It spurs an idea in his head to get her mind off of Vince and back in a good mood. He glances around for a clock, knowing there isn't much time left in their lunch period, but wants to make sure before he acts. He smiles when he finds the clock on the wall. Ten minutes. There's less than ten minutes left before the warning bell. What's the point in going to the cafeteria for less than ten minutes?
He reaches forward and takes the science book out of Spinelli's arms so he can grab her hand.
"Here, come on," he says, starting to lead her down the hall toward the door. "Let's go this way."
"Where are we going?"
"On an adventure!"
He doesn't need to look back to know Spinelli is rolling her eyes.
The two make it to the doorway and he looks over both shoulders. The hallways are silent, everyone either in the lunch room or in classrooms. He pushes open the door and the two walk out. Only seniors are allowed to leave school grounds during lunch, but he doesn't intend on leaving. Sitting on the stairs isn't technically leaving.
"We're not supposed to be out here," Spinelli says.
"Since when have you ever been afraid to bend the rules?"
TJ sits down on the steps and looks up at Spinelli, who shakes her head and sits down beside him.
"You're a bad influence," she says.
"We're not technically breaking any rules." He smirks and inches his face close to hers so their noses are almost touching. "We're bending them."
Neither moves backward. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his lips and he wets his own in response.
"Well, aren't rules meant to be broken?" she says, her eyes darting down to his lips.
"Who's the bad influence now?"
He is having such a hard time controlling himself around her and in moments like these he doesn't care. His heart begins to pound in his chest, aching at the realization that she is right there. She is right there and to hell with the consequences.
But before he can make any moves one way or the other, Spinelli does instead. She leans forward and touches her lips to his. It only lasts a split second. His head is spinning when she jumps back. She grabs her book off the step and leaps to her feet.
"Oh, my God," she mutters. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh God."
He finally shakes out of it and looks up at her. She has her science textbook clutched to her chest, her eyes the size of saucers.
"Spin," he says, standing up.
She takes a step back and cuts him off.
"That didn't happen," she says, shaking her head. "Forget it happened."
"Spin!"
She is shaking. Her breathing is audible, quivering with her body. She takes another step back.
"TJ, forget that happened."
Then she turns on her heel, opens the door, and runs back into the building.
He sits back down on the steps and puts his face in his hands. The voice in his head is oddly reminiscent of Becky's. This is what happens when you play with fire, it says. He's such an idiot. He should go after her, but he knows Spinelli. She is long gone by now, hiding in a place he can't find her. Probably locked herself in the stall of a girls bathroom to catch her breath and sober her appearance before class starts. The last thing she would want would be to walk into class as flustered as she is now.
This is all his fault.
He stands up and starts to walk toward the gym, where his last class of the day is held. He is thankful he's a little early so he can sit on the bench and try to think through what just happened. Spinelli's first reaction to kissing him was to tell him to forget it. He can't say it doesn't hurt a bit, even though he's fairly sure Spinelli still likes him. Her reaction does shake his confidence in that a tad, but knowing her, she's embarrassed. And of course she is because he's been so wishy-washy and ambiguous with her.
He had been trying to figure out what to do to avoid hurting everyone. Unfortunately, judging from Spinelli's reaction, he has already done that. If he hadn't, she wouldn't have run for the hills.
The warning bell rings and he quickly changes into his gym clothes before everyone else shows up. He walks out into the open gym and sighs.
This is absolutely not the way he wanted any of this to go. How does he fix it?
"Hey, man."
He looks up to see Vince walking toward him. Vince stands next to him and starts stretching his arms, tossing his left arm across his chest and pulling on it with his right.
"You never showed up at lunch."
TJ grinds his teeth and stares at the ground.
"Yeah, Spin and I went down to Dudikoff's room to fill out election stuff."
It's not a lie.
"You and Spin?"
TJ nearly gives himself whiplash from the force of his neck turning to look at Vince. Did someone see what happened? How does Vince know already? If Randall was trailing them and saw, the whole school probably knows by now. Spinelli will never forgive him if that's the case.
When he doesn't respond, Vince clarifies, "So, you're running with Spin?"
TJ's stomach stops bubbling and he comes back down to reality. Randall didn't see. The school doesn't know about the mess he caused. It's just the election.
He shakes out of it and focuses back on Vince.
"Yeah, I asked her to be VP." And hopefully what just happened at lunch doesn't make her change her mind.
He keeps the last part to himself.
Vince doesn't respond. Given how Vince had responded to him yesterday, TJ had originally thought Vince might be a little excited for him to run. If not excited, at least congratulatory. But Vince just keeps stretching the same arm with a blank face.
Maybe Spinelli was right. Maybe he did underestimate Vince's potential interest in school politics.
"I figured you're so busy with sports," TJ continues, telling Vince exactly what he told Spinelli when he asked her yesterday. "And, let's be honest here, Gretch and I were never great group project partners, and this is basically a giant group project. I'd rather not make her hate me."
Vince grunts and finally switches his arm to stretch the right one.
"Yeah. I don't believe that."
"What do you mean?" TJ still feels awful remembering how he made Gretchen feel the time they were partnered in Ms. Grotke's class. "Gretchen would get so frustrated with me it would be a miracle if we got anything done."
Vince drops his arms and turns, looking at TJ for a few moments without saying a word. TJ's gut drops at Vince's stare. His friend's jaw is tightly clenched and eyes slightly narrowed. He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs.
"No," Vince says. "I mean, I don't believe that that's the reason why you asked Spin. But you don't seem to want to tell me the truth anymore."
TJ can feel his heart pounding in his chest.
"Vince–"
"No." Vince holds his hand up and looks over his shoulder to where a few of their classmates are making their way over. "I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm just going to get mad."
He shakes his head and turns around, waving to Phil and the twins.
TJ watches Vince turn, his body rooted in place, too frozen to follow after him. His gut turns, much like it did in fourth grade as he watched each of his friends storm off in different directions on the playground. Deep down, he knew this was coming. Part of him even knew it was deceitful, but he just didn't know what to do. So, instead of doing anything, he ignored the tension. He let it fester. Now Vince is angry and who knows when Spinelli will talk to him again.
He lets out a breath, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. He really messed this one up.
He gives Vince space during gym. He joins another team for the agility station and when they're racing he doesn't even attempt to keep up. If he lets Vince cool off during gym, maybe he'll be more accepting of his apology later.
After class, he lets Vince walk in the locker room first and hangs back in the gym to enter last. He quickly opens his locker and changes, grabbing his bag and then walking toward his friend. Vince has on his basketball practice jersey, his backpack and coat still in his locker.
"Hey, um, do you want to talk now?"
Vince shuts his locker door and sighs. "I have practice now, so not really."
"Yeah, that's fine," TJ says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just want to say I'm sorry. I should have come to talk to you about vice president."
Vince glares and crosses his arms over his chest.
"You really don't get it," he says. He shakes his head. "TJ, I don't care that Spinelli is going to be vice president. Sure, I'm a little jealous because I think I would have done a better job, but I'm upset about the fact that you have kept me out of this whole situation by lying about it."
TJ looks down at his shoes.
"Just say it. You like her. I don't care. I'm not going to tell anyone," Vince continues. "But don't lie to my face about it and then turn around and tell me I'm your best friend."
A dark chuckle crosses his lips. "Oh, wait. That was just me assuming because you don't have a best friend. You have a group. A group that you've basically fractured because you, what, don't want anyone to know you like Spinelli? Well, newsflash, the entire school knows. Except, maybe, Spinelli herself."
Vince blows out a breath and scuffs his sneaker on the locker room floor.
"Sorry," Vince mutters. "This is why I didn't want to get into it right now. I wanted to cool off."
"Yeah, sorry," TJ mumbles. "I kind of forced it."
"Yeah. You did." Vince shakes his head. "Well, why don't you walk Spinelli home or whatever and when you're done, I'll be shooting my free throws at Third Street. If you want to talk."
"Yeah." TJ keeps his head down but nods. "Yeah, I'll see you later."
TJ turns and walks out of the locker room. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and sighs, thinking about the mess he's made. His stomach churns. He honestly did not mean to hurt anyone and if he had realized what was happening…would he have changed his actions? He would like to say absolutely, but now he's not so sure what he would have done.
He was even lying to himself, convincing himself that what he was doing was beneficial to the entire group. But in reality, it was selfish. Maybe he's not such a great leader after all.
His shoulder hits something.
"Hey, watch it, Detweiler!"
He looks up to see Menlo rubbing his arm, glaring at him, as he walks past. TJ groans and apologizes but Menlo just huffs and continues walking toward the double doors leading out of the school. TJ adjusts his backpack on his shoulders and tries to get out of his own head at least until he leaves the school hallway.
A hand falls on his shoulder. He looks up to see Mikey standing beside him.
"You look troubled, my friend."
TJ shrugs. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"Let's go to Kelso's," Mikey says, giving him a gentle nudge toward the school exit. "That has always been a good place to work through our troubles."
TJ nods and the two begin walking toward the neighborhood store. The silence would typically be comfortable, but today it's suffocating.
Mikey speaks. "I take it you spoke with Vince."
"Don't act so surprised," TJ grumbles. Then he bites his tongue and takes a breath, beginning again with a less aggressive tone. "I know you know what's going on."
Mikey considers it for a moment before speaking.
"Lunch wasn't the most pleasant we've ever had once it became obvious that you and Spinelli weren't coming," he says. "I think Vince's feelings were hurt that he didn't hear the news from you, his best friend."
TJ runs his hand over his face. "I didn't want to hurt anyone and I ended up hurting everyone."
Mikey rests his hand on TJ's shoulder again.
"Life is confusing and trying to appease everyone never works in our favor," Mikey says.
"But, I'm the leader!" TJ insists. "I'm supposed to make sure everyone sticks together!"
Mikey removes his hand from TJ's shoulder. He doesn't respond to the words at first. TJ watches as Mikey's faces morphs, brows furrow and then relax. His mouth tenses into a straight line and then he grits his teeth.
"TJ, can I say something I think may be important even if you don't agree?"
TJ nods.
"You see yourself as our leader and you absolutely were. Once. And you were a great one at that," Mikey says. "You were and still are the glue to our group of friends in so many ways. But we're not ten years old anymore and maybe we don't need a leader in the same way we once did. Maybe now that we're older we need something different, something more important."
"Something more important?" TJ says. He frowns. What's more important than a leader?
"We need you whole."
TJ fights back rolling his eyes. He should have realized Mikey would bring in some mumbo jumbo feelings talk. TJ doesn't need theoreticals. He needs to know how to fix Vince's anger and figure out what is going on with Spinelli. And once he does that, he should probably check in on Gretchen and Gus, who he feels like he has barely spoken to all year about anything of any importance.
"You spend all of your time worried about us, more than I think you worry about yourself, and I'm afraid that it weighs on you too much," Mikey says. "It is not your responsibility to ensure that every one of us feels equal at all times. We all know that's not the case. We can understand that we're closer to certain people than others, but we also know it doesn't make us any less part of the group. All any of us in this world really wants is to feel included."
TJ finds another pebble to kick.
"So, TJ, I know you won't agree but I think the most important thing you can do for all of us is to work on you. Work on your relationships with Vince and Spinelli and worry less about how we'll all handle it," Mikey finishes. "We'll adapt better than you think."
The two boys walk a ways in silence, letting the words sink in. When they turn the corner and TJ can see Kelso's in the distance, he pats Mikey's arm.
"Actually, Mikey, can I have a raincheck on Kelso's? I need to figure some stuff out."
Mikey nods, smiling. "Of course, my friend."
TJ turns around, heading back toward the school to get his bike, his mind spinning. He has a lot of explaining to do.
…
Thanks for reading. See you in January Part 3.