Idol Urges by Ruby Bassett

attitude.” She took another sip of her drink and peered out to nowhere. “I first spotted him getting on his gear to hang glide off a cliff. What set him apart was how nonchalant he was. Everyone else was nervous or excited, but your dad, he just smiled like he was going for a walk in the park. He drew people into him.”
    “And then he left them high and dry.” Wendy added.
    “That’s true. But there’s something powerful about that kind of personality. You have that confidence. It’s what Franco sees. It’s what—”
    A car horn beeped twice outside. Wendy got up to peep outside.
    “Oh, crap! It’s Gloria. I completely forgot I told her I’d go out to a club with her tonight.”
    “Perfect,” her mom said. “Go get drunk with Gloria. It’ll be more fun than hanging around here.”
    “No way. Mom, go tell her I’m sick in bed.” The horn honked again. “Come on, Mom.”
    “I’m not lying to your friend for you.” Her mother carried her drink into her bedroom. “I’m going to read my book.”
    A knock beat on the door. “I know you’re there. Don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me,” Gloria called from outside.
    Wendy opened the door. “I’m chickening out on you.”
    “Why?”
    “I failed the chemistry test.”
    “So staying home tonight’s going to change your grade?” Gloria set her fists on her hips.
    “No, but I’m in no mood to meet people. You wouldn’t want your friends’ first impression of me to be a wet blanket.”
    Gloria blew out a heavy breath. “I know not to argue when you dig your heels in. But you have to promise to come another time.”
    “I promise. Really, when I’m done moping.”
    “Okay. See ya.” Gloria walked back to her car. “I’m not giving up on you,” she called over her shoulder.
    “I know,” Wendy called back.
    She probably would go with Gloria one of these days. But first she had to prove her mother wrong. There wasn’t a shred of her father in her. She had no wild side.
    ****
    Lulled by the motion of the bus, Wendy forced her eyes to stay focused on the chemical symbols in her textbook. She had failed the test, just as she suspected. Her teacher had been forgiving and offered her a chance to redeem herself—a make-up test scheduled for eight AM Saturday morning. He would weight the test, so that if she got an A it would only count as a B, but it was better than nothing. That left her three days to study.
    This week, she wouldn’t go out with Gloria, or over to Susan’s house, or even look at Franco. Anytime not at work would be spent with her head in this textbook. The bus’s brakes squeaked to a halt and jolted Wendy. She scrambled to gather her bag and get off at her stop.
    Two blocks from her house, it might as well have been two miles. She had pulled laundry duty today and her muscles ached. Her legs plodded around the corner. Her head cast down, she only spied Franco’s black El Camino when she was almost at her front door.
    “Can I carry your book bag? It looks like it weighs a ton.” His smile liquefied her insides.
    “No thanks. I got it.” But Wendy yearned to give him the bag. Nothing would ease her burden than to have him carry the load, even if it was only for the last few feet. “What are you doing here?”
    “I was at my cousin’s house. He lives nearby. So I thought I’d come over and see if you were around. Your house was dark. I was going to leave, but I saw you turn the corner.”
    “Oh.” Even in the dark, Wendy could see his bright green eyes and his thick black hair reflect the moonlight.
    “I was thinking about Saturday. Maybe we could make a whole day of it. I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll go to the restaurant. I’ll make a picnic brunch for the beach. And we could take my uncle’s sailboat out. I’m not too bad as a captain. I’m a better chef, but if we stay close to the shore I can promise we won’t be blown out to sea.” He lifted her bag and swung it on his shoulder. With his