A nd then, over Drew’s shoulder, I saw Walter.
Or did I? He looked like Walter, but older. He’d gotten taller. A nd he’d grown a beard.
I’d already let Drew go in surprise at seeing Walter there. Now I was caught in an impossible situation. I wanted to go hug my best friend who wanted to be my boyfriend and who I did not want to be my boyfriend. If I didn’t, he’d be offended. With this added to the “talking to you is like talking to a girl” incident, he might never speak to me again.
But even more I wanted to keep hugging my partner who I wanted to be my boyfriend and who did not want to be my boyfriend. If I didn’t
…
Well, he didn’t. Drew turned to see what I was looking at, then walked away from me without another word to me. A s he passed Walter, he nodded and said evenly, “Walter.”
Walter said, “General.”
Drew punched Walter on the shoulder and kept walking.
“What’s eating him?” Walter asked me, rubbing his shoulder. Then he hugged me. He’d missed me. I would have missed him, too, except that so much had been going on with band, and Drew.
I wanted to be happy to see Walter. But I felt slightly nauseated.
Which, I assured myself, was because I’d skipped lunch.
His beard tickled my cheek. I pushed him away. “What’s with the scrub?”
He touched his chin. “A t school they call me a good ïà boy because I’m from the country. I grew the beard to make a point. I’d wear overalls, too, but as you know, my wardrobe is somewhat limited.”
“Speaking of which, new jeans?”
He stuck out his leg. “Thanks for noticing. Thrift store. New to me.”
“What’s the occasion? You do seem taller than the last time I saw you. Lots taller. Six inches taller.”
“Six inches in two weeks? I think that would be painful.” He still stared thoughtfully at his leg. I’d embarrassed him.
To change the subject, I asked, “What s in the box?” and realized too late that I didn’t want to know.
“I brought something for you,” he said. He showed me the clear plastic box with a homecoming corsage inside.
I peered at the chrysanthemum decorated in the school colors. It was no uglier than every other girls homecoming corsage, but it looked unspeakably ugly to me. Because when I put it on, it would mean that I was on a date with Walter Lloyd.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said, “since we’re already dating.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I heard you couldn’t go out with Barry Ekrivay because you and I are dating.”
“Drew just blurted that out to Barry so I wouldn’t have to go out with him.”
The big green eyes stared hard at me. The beard made Walter look older after only two weeks. But he also seemed wiser, like the green eyes were seeing something in me they hadn’t seen before.
Finally he said, “I’m glad Patton’s so worried about your virtue.”
“My virt—Walter, I challenge you to go two minutes without saying anything about sex. I’ll bet you can’t do it.” I looked at my watch.
“Two whole minutes? If I can do it, what’s the prize at the end? Can I choose?”
“That’s pretty good. Five seconds.” I looked back at the flower. “Walter, it’s so sweet that you brought me a corsage.” I meant to mean it. “But I can’t wear it while I’m directing. It’ll get in the way.”
“Good point. It might not survive with you waving your arms around. We don’t want you deflowering yourself all over the stadium.”
I slapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey!” he yelled. “One drum major per shoulder. You take the left, and Patton can have the right.”
“Walter,” I said in a low voice. “Please don’t call him that anymore. I’m trying to get along with him.”
“Yes, your highness.” He patted the box. “I’ll just hold this for you.”
“Good idea.”
We walked around to the concession stand, got Cokes, and pushed our way up the stands to the band section. The drums crowded around him at one point, cheering, “He’s back! Hey, bus boy!” Then A llison ran up squealing to hug him, but the majorettes distracted her. A football player’s pants were torn, and they were trying to figure out whether his nice naked fanny was showing or whether he wore flesh-colored pads.
Mostly Walter and I were alone for the third quarter off. I didn’t ask him why he hadn’t e-mailed me. I hoped he hadn’t really been that mad at me about our argument at the bus. I hoped he’d gotten busy with school and hadn’t had time to write. I hoped he was getting involved with activities there, new friends, girls. Of course, if that had happened, he wouldn’t have come home and half-asked me to homecoming without paying attention to my answer. I liked Walter so much—as a friend, hello!—and I hated the feeling that our friendship was about to fall backward off a cliff.
He told me he was amazed that the band, especially the drums, sounded so much better. I sketched for him why Drew and I had decided to get along. He didn’t seem interested. He told me stories about the weirdo art school kids who smoked pot and wore black.
Drew stood near the aisle with his brothers. He was a little taller than either of them. They laughed with him and told him he’d done a great job. He kept glancing past them to me like he wanted to introduce me to A nthony and reintroduce me to Christopher, who probably never noticed me when I was a freshman and he was drum major.
I didn’t know how to handle this. I couldn’t tell Walter I wanted to leave him to meet Drew Morrow’s brothers. Walter was only home for the weekend. Drew could have introduced me to his brothers at any time in the past month and a half that we’d been working together. It kind of irked me that Drew had suddenly decided I was worth knowing.
“Virginia,” Drew called sharply.
I looked up. It was fourth quarter. Behind me, the band was back in place. Depending on whether the team scored, we might have to play the fight song at any second. I should have been watching the game, not chatting with Walter.
I was such a slacker drum major! I was glad I had Drew there to be alert for me. When he didn’t have a fever.
“Virginia!” Drew stood in front of me, jaw clenched. He held out a hand to me.
“Cutting in?” Walter asked.
“Walter—,” Drew started.