He's smart. He's handsome. He's 22!

When I walked into math class the next day, Tom Cruise was in the room.

I don't know how he got there. I don't know what he was doing. I don't know how long he was going to stay.

But here's what I did know: My knees were weak. There was not enough air in the room. And I was not dreaming.

There I was, Stacey McGill, native New Yorker. I was used to celebrities on the streets of NYC. I could pass them by with just a casual glance.

But this was different. As I walked to my seat, I could not feel my feet touch the ground.

My brain? Total mush. I'd start to put a thought together, then HE would smile at something. Dimples would crease his cheeks, and I'd be gone. Lost. His slate blue eyes would flash across the room, and it was nuclear meltdown time. Then he'd run his hand through his wavy, light brown hair, and I was afraid they would have to scrape me off the floor.

Do I sound like I was in love? I was. But somewhere, deep in the back of my pea-soupy brain, some little germs of reality were coming together. This was not really Tom Cruise. Tom Cruise would not be in a math class a Stoneybrook Middle School. He would not be fiddling with a piece of chalk, talking to Mr. Z., glancing down at a sheet on the desk.

That didn't matter, though. It didn't change the way he looked, or the effect he was having on me.

But it didn't sink in who it really was, until Mr. Z. turned to the class and spoke.

"Okay, everybody," he said, just after the bell rang. "I'm pleased to introduce your new teacher, Mr. Ellenburg."

My heart stopped.

This was Wesley Ellenburg.

I had to let that idea sink in. I felt like an idiot for not having realized it right away. But I had an excuse. I had taken temporary leave of my senses.

Stacey's Big Crush
Published by Scholastic Inc. 1996
ISBN: 0590456679