Maybe He Just Likes You

“[M]y stomach was doing this fluttery-moth sort of thing. Which wasn’t the same as a fluttery-butterfly thing. Because butterflies were soft and pretty, but moths just gave me the creeps.”

Mila establishes this metaphor early in the novel after one of the first touching incidents with the boys. Dee takes the popular saying about having butterflies in one’s stomach and turns it into an unpleasant, nervous feeling. Mila is not excited or giddy about her interactions with the boys in her class: She feels violated, confused, and uneasy. This metaphor serves as a reminder that although physical affection can be pleasant, it can also be deeply uncomfortable if it is unwelcome.

“When something happens, and it’s weird or embarrassing, you’re supposed to tell your best friends, aren’t you?”

Right after the first strange band room encounter with the basketball boys, Mila hesitates to tell Zara what happened. Mila knows Zara well enough to know that she will not react well to news that her crush, Leo, hugged her best friend and not her. Mila likes Zara, but at this moment, she realizes that she cannot trust Zara with her feelings. Zara will use the opportunity to lash out at Mila and hurt her best friend instead of comforting her, and Mila wants to avoid one more uncomfortable interaction.

“[M]aybe Tobias just likes you, Mila.”

This is the first time this idea is spoken out loud in the novel. Tobias has just forced a hug on Mila, and Omi attempts to explain the situation by suggesting that Tobias might just have a crush on Mila. This idea calls into question a bigger idea: If a boy is attracted to a girl, does that make it okay for him to force physical contact with her? These small interactions add up to a bigger picture and a glaring message about consent and personal boundaries when it comes to flirting.

“He was so there in the band room, the sound of his trumpet just taking over. As if all the air molecules belonged to him.”

Of all the basketball boys, Callum is the one that Mila is forced to interact with most directly. Mila sits next to Callum in band, and although she recognizes that he is a great musician, she also feels like he takes up more space than is fair. According to Mila, Callum behaves as if the whole band room is his, and this idea is acted out when Callum yells at Mila and tries to make her stop playing the trumpet in the empty band room in Chapter 51.

“[S]eventh grade boys can be very immature. [...] I can tell you from experience that the best course of action is to try to ignore them.”

At the heart of the #MeToo movement is the phrase many sexual assault survivors heard throughout their lives: “Boys will be boys.” Mr. Dolan’s remarks here dismiss the boys’ behavior as normal, and he places the responsibility on Mila to be the bigger person and try to tune the boys out. In a world where behavioral correction is seen as laborious and pointless, the onus is placed on the person being harassed to deal with the problem alone.

“How is this happening?! I thought we just agreed that this stuff was over. And why hasn’t anyone stopped it? Luis, Daniel, Annabel, Liana—” (77)

As Mila’s bullies become more brazen, Mila is confounded by the fact that people are watching the boys harass her but are doing nothing to help. Bystanders are often hesitant to get involved in conflicts that do not directly concern them, and this phenomenon is particularly widespread in schools. Young people might worry about being sucked into dramatic exchanges that could damage their reputation or cause physical, emotional, or social harm to them. Overwhelmingly, people like Mila’s classmates keep their heads down and tell themselves that bullying is none of their business, so they should just keep quiet and stay out of it.

“Maybe all the basketball boys have non-jerk sides, including Leo. They probably have moms who teach them not to touch strange dogs, and little brothers they tease, but just enough. [...] [T]hey know exactly when to stop. So why is it different when it comes to me?”

Mila’s interaction with Tobias in the park perplexes her. At school, Tobias behaves like his friends on the basketball team. He invades Mila’s space, touches her inappropriately and without consent, and he doesn’t seem concerned about protecting her from his friends. However, in the park, Tobias is gentle and kind to his younger siblings, and Mila cannot understand why boys like Tobias act one way at home and another way at school when their parents aren’t watching. The boys are obviously capable of compassion, but for some reason, they do not seem to think that Mila is worthy of this compassion.

“The important thing is to let your spirit yell out.”

Ms. Platt’s instructions in the karate class go beyond the dojo. Throughout the novel, Mila learns to tap into her own “spirit yell” as she faces the battle at school. Although Mila’s early attempts to assert her boundaries are ignored by her attackers, Mila learns how to tap into her own method of “spirit yelling.” She defends herself against a physical attack, blasts her trumpet to express her anger, and uses her words to express her feelings in a productive, meaningful way.

“Sometimes you could look at something right up close and still not know what you were seeing.”

Sometimes we are “too close” to a situation to fully understand how complex it really is. During Maybe He Just Likes You, Mila is in the middle of an ugly situation, and although she knows that something is wrong, she does not possess the perspective to fully understand what she is seeing. Mila was able to recognize bullying when it happened to Max because she was on the outside of the situation, but in this case, she is having a hard time processing her feelings and recognizing the bullying that is happening to her, especially because it looks “different” from the bullying that Max endured.

“Those boys are super awkward and stupid sometimes, but they aren’t monsters, right?”

Zara is quick to defend the basketball boys and dismiss Mila’s feelings. By using strong language such as “monsters,” Zara blames Mila for her feelings and tries to make Mila feel dramatic for raising alarms about the boys’ “jokes.” Zara’s line of questioning is meant to silence Mila and gaslight her into not talking about the bullying anymore because Zara is jealous of the “attention” Mila is getting from the boys.

“The way the basketball boys had cheered Tobias after the thing at my locker—it really had seemed like a game. A sport.”

When Mila learns about the existence of the scorecard, she is not surprised. After all, the boys have been treating her like a toy for their terrible game for weeks. By gamifying the harassment and assault, the boys are convincing themselves and each other that what they are doing isn’t so bad. If all of their friends are doing it, how can it possibly be bad, especially with model students like Callum, Dante, and Leo playing along?

“I’m a game? You score points by bumping into me? Maybe the hug is five points. And the butt grab is twenty-five. What are the comments worth?”

What the basketball boys don’t see (or rather, what they actively ignore or laugh off) is the toll that their game is taking on Mila. Mila is infuriated at the idea that the boys treat her like a piece of equipment for a game: a goal to be scored or a button to be pushed. The boys are objectifying Mila, and by treating her like an object instead of a person, they are taking away her autonomy and her ability to consent to the “game.”

“[T]he idea that I needed to hide myself made me feel like I’d done something wrong. Which I definitely hadn’t.”

Omi encourages Mila not to go anywhere alone and try to fade into the crowd. However, Mila resents this advice because it makes her feel she must change her life to protect herself from her bullies. Mila is angry that no one, including Omi, is interested in correcting the basketball boys’ behavior. Although Omi tries to be supportive, this suggestion is still a form of victim-blaming by making Mila responsible for avoiding the attacks.

“First rule of self-defense is: Don’t ask your attacker for validation. Never apologize for sticking up for yourself.”

When Mila tells the boys to leave her alone, stop touching her, and stop invading her space, she is met with great resistance. The boys tell her to lighten up, get a sense of humor, stop overreacting, and even to stop being “a psycho.” The harder Mila pushes back, the more the boys lean into their outrage and try to blame her for reacting to their antics. Mila is unapologetic, even when she is told that she should feel bad for saying no and standing up for herself.

“I told myself that even if I said the truth, every single detail, he’d listen to the basketball boys over me. [...] And if people heard what I’d told Mr. McCabe [...], they’d never stop gossiping and teasing.”

Mr. McCabe isn’t just the assistant principal: He is also the coach of the boys’ basketball team. Within the world of competitive sports, there exists a tight friendship similar to Mila and her friends’ Circle of Friendship. With some teams, this circle can grow a person’s character and make them a better person. However, after her conversation with Mr. Dolan, Mila believes that Mr. McCabe is so far in the circle that he will defend his players and allow their poor behavior to go unchecked.

“People don’t always hear the first time. Or they hear, but they don’t actually listen. So it’s up to you to tell them again.” 

Although Mila doesn’t tell her mother the specifics of what has been happening with her friends, her mother advises her to not give up and keep sharing her feelings. Mila starts to think about the basketball boys, and she tries to take her mother’s advice and “speak the language” of her bullies. If the boys want to humiliate Mila and treat her unfairly, then she will match their energy and respond in a way that gets through to them.

“And why was this even happening? Because I wouldn’t let Callum crowd by chair? Because I called him out for making comments about my sweater, and my butt? Kicked his shin? Embarrassed him in front of Mr. McCabe?”

Mila tries to join the game of untag to forget her troubles and be a kid again. However, Callum soon appears and takes over the space, forcing Mila to leave the game. Mila knows that Callum is trying to get back at her for fighting back against him and his friends, and just like Callum takes up space in the band room, he takes over any place where Mila wants to be as a power play.

“The Circle of Friendship wasn’t wrecked forever [...]. But maybe it was sort of a squishy egg shape now. And maybe something else was taking its place.”

Although the story begins with Mila, Omi, Max, and Zara gathered together in their “Circle of Friendship,” Mila knows that a shift has occurred by the end of the novel. She and her friends are all different people who process difficult situations in their own way, just like they each make the clothing choices that best suit them. The Circle of Friendship has changed, and it might not look the way Mila would have wanted, but she comes to realize that this change is for the better. After all, the Circle of Friendship might give way to something better and stronger.

“It doesn’t matter how well you play, or how much you’ve practiced. All anyone will notice is what’s under your shirt.”

Mila has spent weeks feeling objectified, tormented, and dismissed. Callum’s comment before Mila goes on stage is meant to rattle her self-confidence, and it does its job: Mila loves playing the trumpet, and she has been pouring all of her frustration and energy into honing her skills as a musician. Callum attempts to dismiss all of Mila’s hard work by reducing her to nothing more than a body to be looked at and sexualized. Mila reaches her breaking point, and she decides to act in a way that will get everyone’s attention on her own terms.

“[T]here’s been stuff going on for a while. Everyone here knows about it. And if they say they don’t, they’re lying.”

When the band concert ends in disaster, Samira speaks up and tells Ms. Fender that Mila has been harassed by the basketball boys for weeks. For a long time, it was Mila’s word against the boys’, and no one was willing to speak up on Mila’s behalf. Samira, who is one of the best musicians in Ms. Fender’s class, stands up for Mila and helps to validate her story in front of the entire band. This small act is pivotal, and Samira proves to be a true ally to Mila.

“Ms. Fender turned out to be a great listener. [...] And she never made me feel stupid, like I was ‘overreacting,’ like I didn’t know how to ‘take a joke.’ Also, she never told me to ‘just ignore them.’”

After speaking to Mr. Dolan early in the novel, Mila is afraid of going to any more adults and not being taken seriously. Mila thought that Ms. Fender didn’t like her that much, and she thought Ms. Fender might side with her star trumpet player, Callum. However, when the story of the harassment comes out, Mila is surprised by her band teacher’s compassion and attentiveness.

“Sexual harassment—and that’s what this sounds like to me, Mila—is something I take very seriously.”

Although Mila suspected that what was happening to her wasn’t run-of-the-mill “regular” bullying, Ms. Fender is the first one to name it: sexual harassment. While this term is often assigned to the adult world of workplace scandals and infamous movie directors, Dee uses Mila’s story to show how sexual harassment can take many forms and might even show up in unexpected places, like in a middle school band room or on a school bus. No one is too rich or too poor, too young or too old to be harassed.

“[W]hen school started, it was like you were next [...]. Although of course now the boys will just pick someone else.”

Mila notices that one student in particular—Liana—has a strange reaction to the harassment inflicted upon Mila. Liana disassociates and goes blank when the basketball boys are messing with Mila, and she later explains that some of the boys messed with her over the summer. Although Liana later joins Mila to confront her bullies, her story shows how difficult it can be for survivors of sexual harassment to speak up, even when it is happening right in front of them.