A Longtime (and at one point Illegal) Crush Read Free Page B

her.”
    On the last night, the students had a dance on campus. Elsie had taken extra time to make sure she was beautiful, noticeable. Here, away from the usual setting of school, it felt like anything could happen.
    Kye was one of the chaperones for the dance. All night he stood in the corner of the room wearing a white, button-down shirt to indicate he was a teacher, not a student. That shirt was a Do Not Cross sign. His hands were thrust in his pockets, and he looked bored. How could Elsie keep from imagining what those hands would feel like on her shoulders, on her waist, slow dancing with her? Just once, she wanted to stand slow-dance close to him.
    She was eighteen. That made her an adult. In other times and places, girls were already married at eighteen. Certainly it wasn’t wrong to just dance with Kye.
    After the night was nearly over, Elsie finally got the courage to go talk to him. A fast song played, not a slow one, which made her request downright innocent.
    “Hey, Mr. McBride, ” she said, half-laughing as though the idea had just occurred to her, “let’s dance.”
    He shook his head. “I’m a chaperone.”
    “So, chaperones aren’t allowed to have any fun?”
    “Nope. It’s one of the chaperone bylaws. I have to be curmudgeonly, insist no one has fun, and I can’t dance.”
    “Come on,” she said, sending him a come-hither smile. “Just this once. I won’t report you to the curmudgeon police.”
    He gestured in the direction of a group of guys. A couple of freshmen stood nearest to the dance floor. “Try one of them. They look like they would say yes to you.”
    I t was a snub and Elsie felt its sting. Still, she smiled, shrugged, and strolled over toward the group he’d pointed at. She passed up the freshmen and walked over to a tall, rebellious-looking guy standing behind them. He had long, shaggy hair, gauges in his earlobes, and a beat up T-shirt. She not only asked him to dance, she danced in a way to show Kye that math wasn’t the only thing she excelled at. Every move, every twist of her hips and flip of her hair was for Kye. I’m not a little girl any more, she thought. I’m done waiting on the stairs.
    Her dance partner said his name was Bono—like the singer. She didn’t know who that was. He made small talk, which she mostly ignored. She was a dancer on a stage and this was a performance. When the song ended, Bono asked her to dance again. She said yes because it saved her the trouble of having to find a new guy to dance with. A slow song played, and she didn’t even mind Bono’s hand on her hips, because every time she glanced over at Kye, he was watching with an ever-present frown of disapproval.
    It made Elsie feel powerful. For so long, she had sat in the crowd watching him. Finally their positions were reversed.
    When the song ended, Bono took a step back from her. His long bangs nearly covered his eyes. “It’s hot in here. Do you want to go outside?”
    Her gaze cut back over to Kye. He was still watching her, still frowning. Why shouldn’t he see her go outside with one of the guys he’d suggested? If it caused him a pang of regret for blowing her off, good. He deserved it. She smiled at Bono. “Sure.”
    Bono smiled too. She hadn’t seen anything sinister in his smile. Not then. He made his way toward the door, and she threaded through the crowd after him, triumphant.
    When they walked outside into the darkness of the night, her triumphant feelings drained away. She was no longer making a point to Kye; she was standing outside with a guy she had no interest in. She looked him over again. Now that they were away from the dance crowd, his rebellious-looking hair just seemed pointlessly long. The huge holes in his ears were an obvious cry for attention. His smile was too broad, his gaze too intense.
    The cars in the parking lot sat in rows, their darkened headlights making them look like they were all part of the same dull stupor. A lamp in the distance cast off a