Free Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown

“Come on.”
    I let her hold it down the stairs. Nobody even gives us a second look, because she’s Mary Carlson Bailey, goddess, and I’m another Foundation Baptist girl. Holding hands is a totally normal thing for girls to do. So why is it I’m blushing? She doesn’t let go until we bump into George.
    â€œWell, hello, George.” Mary Carlson’s head twists looking at him, then me, and I swear I see the flash go off in her mind. “You’re coming to Rob’s party, aren’t you?”
    â€œUm, well . . .” He trails off. George, I’ve learned, is a National Honor Society kid, cross-country runner, good church boy, and trombonist in the band. Football player parties, I’m guessing, are about as natural to him as they are to me.
    â€œWe’re going.” Mary Carlson thumbs back and forth between us. She looks at me. “It’d be fun if George was there, wouldn’t it, Joanna?”
    I shrug, my face as red as George’s. “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever.”
    â€œGood, it’s decided.” Mary Carlson beams and leans in, giving George a quick hug. “Thanks,” she says as her hair falls forward over his shoulder. I get a whiff of her shampoo. Something refreshing, like green tea and ginger.
    Then I wonder, why did she tell him thanks? Am I that much of a charity case?
    George’s glasses slip as he bobs his head in acknowledgment.
    We walk away and leave him gawking on the steps down to the band section. “Are you trying to hook me up?”
    â€œIs it a problem?”
    What do I say? “I guess not, but I’m not really looking for a boyfriend.” Totally not a lie.
    â€œTwo Diet Cokes, please. Or wait.” She looks at me. “Would you rather have regular?”
    â€œRegular’s good.”
    She turns. “Make that two Cokes, please.” Mary Carlson gives the concession attendant a ten-dollar bill as a roar sounds from the bleachers behind us. “Everybody wants a boyfriend, right? And George is sweet. He won’t get too handsy.”
    â€œHandsy?” She passes me a soda and I reach for it, leaving my side exposed.
    â€œYes, you know . . .” She reaches out, tickling me untilI curl in like a hermit crab. She pulls her hand back and makes grabby motions. “Handsy. Like you’re the football.”
    â€œUh. Um. I haven’t dated much.” Hooked up? Sure. Dated? Love? Not so much. Boys? Never.
    â€œYou’re lucky. I hate it. All the groping.” Then she blushes. “Does that make me sound weird? Jessica and Betsy are all about it. Betsy and Jake are actually having sex, which she loves to talk about. Gemma wants to be all about it if she could find a guy to handle her brainpower. But me? It sort of wigs me out.” She shrugs. “I guess I just haven’t gone out with the right guy.”
    Or girl, I think. “What about you and Chaz?”
    She sucks on her straw. “He’s pretty hot, isn’t he?”
    â€œYep.” He is. No denying it.
    â€œI don’t know.” She leads me back up the bleachers. “We tried to go out in middle school but I was really into golf and blew him off. He was an ass about it. Started some stupid rumor about me when I wouldn’t kiss him during a seven minutes in heaven game. Of course no one believed him, but that’s why B.T.B. dislikes him. I’m hesitant still about him, you know? Even though it was middle school, there’s not much I hate worse than liars. But maybe now that we’re older, he’s changed and he’ll have more magic than the other guys I’ve been with.”
    â€œBeen with?” Was it that kind of rumor? Did he lie about what they’d done?
    She stops and her mouth drops. “God, no. Not been with. I’m saving that. For love.” Then she rewards me with the smile and my stomach drops to my feet.

Nine
    THE MUSIC DOESN’T STOP AS we