The Difference Between You and Me(37)
DID YOU KNOW that StarMart uses unfair sweatshop labor in poor countries to make its cheap products?
DID YOU KNOW THAT STARMART HAS STRUCK A DEAL TO PAY FOR SOME OF VANDER’S ATHLETIC EXPENSES AND ALSO THIS YEAR’S FALL FORMAL?
DANCING AT THE STARMART FALL FORMAL IS LIKE DANCING ON THE BACKS OF SWEATSHOP WORKERS!
DANCING AT THE STARMART FALL FORMAL IS LIKE DANCING ON THE GRAVES OF LOCAL BUSINESSES!
IS THAT THE KIND OF DANCING
LET STUDENT COUNCIL KNOW HOW YOU FEEL!
COME TO THE MEETING ON WEDNESDAY!
OR GO TO WWW.SPRAWLWATCH.NET!
12
Jesse
Jesse hovers a little ways down the hall from the door to Room A23 at 2:42 p.m. on Wednesday, half waiting impatiently for Esther to show up, and half trying to pretend that what’s about to happen isn’t actually about to happen. Her whole body is buzzing with a fizzy mix of terror and eagerness; she bounces up and down and flexes her toes inside her boots, using every spare centimeter of wiggle room they allow. The student council meeting is supposed to start at 2:45. T minus three minutes to Emily vs. Esther.
It’s all gone according to plan so far. The posters went up super early on Monday morning—Jesse and Esther managed to slip into school at the crack of dawn with the custodians, so they were able to sweep through the building unhindered by Snediker, blitzing posters onto every wall with rapid, preplanned precision. (No precious seconds were lost fumbling for tape this time—Jesse came prepared with two rolls of it clipped to her belt loop on a carabiner, like a Boy Scout going for his Office Supplies badge.) By the time first period was over on Monday, the whole school was humming lightly with talk about StarMart, kids questioning each other in the halls about the dance, Mr. Kennerley bringing it up as a case study in Jesse’s social studies class. Between sixth and seventh periods, Esther caught Jesse’s eye in the hall and flashed her a thrilling, significant smile—StarMart out of Vander NOW! had already become a couple kids’ status updates, and Jesse could feel the whole thing simmering, gathering steam, about to take off.
But on Monday night, Jesse lay in bed wide awake for hours, her eyes glazed open, her mind racing with thoughts about Emily. Around and around she went. First she thought, I have to warn her. I have to tell her that I’m about to come in and bomb her next student council meeting. Then she thought, No, she’s not going to love that I’m doing this. Then: Maybe Esther’s right—maybe Emily will totally be on our side once she finds out the truth about StarMart. Maybe she’s already decided to cut StarMart out of the dance now that she’s seen the posters! And then: What am I thinking, remember the Handi Snak incident? There’s no way Emily’s going to let StarMart go so easily. And then finally: Anyway, what if I tell her what we’re doing and she refuses to kiss me? What if she refuses to ever kiss me again? I can’t tell her. I have to tell her. I can’t tell her.
By Tuesday afternoon, when Jesse arrived at the handicapped bathroom on the second floor of the Minot Library, she was practically wall-eyed with sleep deprivation and panic. But in the end, the decision was made for her. The moment she saw Emily, the moment Emily reached for her hand, the words I have to tell you something vaporized from Jesse’s tongue. The only thing to do, it seemed to Jesse then, was to slip into Emily’s arms, pull out Emily’s ponytail, kiss down Emily’s open throat, and stay quiet.
Now Jesse’s standing outside the door to Room A23, feeling like nothing could be worse than missing the beginning of this meeting and having to barge in with Esther after it’s already underway. Maybe she should just go inside and wait for Esther there. But Emily is almost certainly in there already, and the only fate worse than having to barge in disruptively with Esther is having to walk into that room, and come face-to-face with Emily, who has no idea she’s about to see her, alone.
Because despite herself, despite the fear of exposure and the seriousness of her mission and the strong possibility that something disastrous is about to go down, knowing that Emily is so close right now fills Jesse with desire. Bold, uncontrollable desire, so that over and over again Jesse imagines flinging open the door to A23 and striding across the room to wherever Emily is sitting and grabbing her by the hand, hauling her to her feet, and dragging her out into the hall to kiss her. Again and again she imagines it: the shock on the faces of the other student council members, Emily’s stunned acquiescence, her stumbling along behind Jesse into the hall, the sweet feeling of her arms looping around Jesse’s neck as Jesse pushes her back against the lockers and—