“Do you know if there’s going to be snacks here?” Micah’s asking. He’s rummaging through his bag. A bunch of papers come tumbling out and fall onto the floor. A kid walking by steps on one of them, leaving a huge dirty footprint on the front.
Micah doesn’t seem to notice. I sigh, then bend down and pick up the papers.
“Thanks,” he says, not even bothering to look as he crumples them and shoves them back into his bag. “There it is!” he says a minute later. He pulls out a half-empty bag of Cheetos and offers me one. “Want?”
“No.” They definitely look stale.
“Heeeeyyy,” an annoyingly familiar voice trills. “What are you guys doing?”
“Hey, Madison,” Micah says, sounding happy to see her. Which makes no sense. Who could be happy to see Madison? “Want some Cheetos?”
“No, thanks.” She smiles and twirls a lock of hair around her finger. She definitely wears extensions. There’s no way her hair curls that way naturally. It’s too perfect. I search her head for signs of clip-ins, but there are none. Does Madison have real hair extensions? The kind people pay thousands of dollars for?
Because that would be ridiculous. My dad won’t even let me use the clip-in ones. He says they’re unnecessary. I keep trying to tell him that most things in this world are unnecessary. And that if he’s that worried about it, maybe he should stop drinking so much bottled water.
“So what are you two lovebirds doing over here?” Madison asks, giving me and Micah a knowing smirk. “Wanted to get some alone time, did you?”
“Yup,” Micah says, putting his arm around me. “Just getting a little alone time.”
My mouth drops. Is Micah delusional? Why is he putting his arm around me? And what is he talking about, getting some alone time? We are not. He just came up to me while I was looking at a picture of a donkey/horse. Plus as far as he knows, I have a boyfriend.
“That’s so cute,” Madison says. “So are you guys, like, a thing now?”
“No,” I say at the same time Micah says, “Not officially.”
He pulls me closer to him. Wow. He actually has very strong arms. I wonder if he’s been working out. It’s really a shame that he’s kind of crazy, because he’s very good-looking. Not as good-looking as Brandon, of course.
“Kendall just broke up with Brandon,” Micah says sadly. “She’s going to need some time to process that.”
“How did you know I broke up with Brandon?” I ask.
“It’s all over school,” he says.
“It is?” How is it all over school? I didn’t even realize anyone in school knew that me and Brandon were together, and now people are talking about us breaking up? I know it’s totally shallow, but I get a little thrill thinking about it.
Madison’s smirk is still playing on her perfectly glossed lips. She’s probably the one who told everyone that me and Brandon broke up. I resist the urge to glare at her.
“You okay, Kendall?” she asks. “You seem a little sad.” She juts out her bottom lip, like she’s doing an impression of me. Which is crazy. I’m not even pouting.
“I’m not sad,” I say.
“Are you sure?” She looks at me suspiciously. She wants me to have some kind of meltdown so I’ll confess that I miss Brandon and she can feel all happy about my misery. Well! She has another thing coming.
“I’m sure. I’m really happy to be here with Micah.” I try to think of something I can do to prove it, so I reach into my pocket and pull out my hat, then pull it down over Micah’s head. “Ha-ha!” I say. “You’re wearing my hat!” It’s supposed to be playful and flirty, but I must not be a very good flirt, because the whole thing just seems kind of weird.
“Ew,” Micah says, pulling it off and handing it back to me. “No, thank you.”
“Ha-ha,” I try again. But I’m kind of insulted. Why doesn’t Micah want to wear my hat? It’s perfectly clean. And so is my hair. I just washed it this morning.
“Hello, students!” Mr. Jacobi says from the other side of the lobby. “If I can have your attention, please!”
Everyone kind of ignores him, probably because most people can’t hear him. The end of the day is the worst time to try to get kids to focus. We’re all too excited about finally being out of school.
“Hello, people!” Mr. Jacobi practically screams. “Can we all please quiet down? It’s never too early to start setting a good example for the young children we’re going to be tutoring.” He shakes his head and looks at the teacher standing next to him, the one with red hair he was talking to earlier. She gives him a sympathetic look, like she’s glad she’s spending her days taking care of little kids and teaching them to draw donkeys, instead of having to hang out with the likes of us.
Finally we all settle down.
Micah moves closer to me.
Like, uncomfortably close.
I’m about to move away, but then I see Madison watching us from the other side of the room. So I stay where I am.
“Excuse me,” Lily whispers, coming up behind me. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but can you please tell me why you’re the only one who can hear me?”
I put a blank look on my face and try to concentrate on what Mr. Jacobi is saying. Although, it’s hard to focus when he’s just going on and on about how he’s expecting us all to represent our school in the best light possible and blah, blah, blah.
“Hello?” Lily asks. “Kendall? I understand that I’m dead and all, but how come no one else can hear me?” She’s not being rude about it. She sounds legitimately bewildered. When I don’t answer her, she wanders away, back over to where Madison is standing. I watch her go, saying a silent thanks that she’s leaving me alone.
But as I move my eyes back up toward where Mr. Jacobi’s standing, I catch Brandon’s gaze. He’s standing next to Jason Fields and looking back to where I’m standing, obviously not paying any attention to what Mr. Jacobi is saying. My breath catches in my chest, and everything kind of stops, almost like the world switches over to slow motion. He’s wearing his gray-and-navy jacket, the one that makes him look like an Abercrombie model. Or at least a Disney star.
There’s a slightly sad expression on his face, and for a second I think maybe he’s going to come over and try to talk to me. Which I know is silly, since Mr. Jacobi is talking to us and everyone is actually being quiet for once, and if Brandon started coming over to me right now, it would definitely cause a disturbance.
But Brandon isn’t looking away, so I give him a tiny smile, and he starts to raise his hand, like maybe he’s going to wave. My heart thumps in my chest, and warmth rushes to my cheeks. If Brandon is waving at me, maybe he’s not as mad as I thought he was.
So I make my smile a little bigger, and he raises his hand a little more. My heart starts dancing around. If he waves, what am I going to do? Definitely I should wave back, but then what? Am I going to try to talk to him after tutoring? Should I text him? Should I—
At that moment, for some stupid reason, Micah reaches out and grabs my hand. Like, he is holding my hand.
And Brandon sees Micah do it. And then Brandon quickly moves his eyes back to Mr. Jacobi.
I drop Micah’s hand like it’s an explosive.
Great. A chance to maybe make some progress with Brandon, and what happens? It gets wrecked.
And the worst part of it all is that Madison Baker is watching the whole thing with a satisfied smile on her face.
* * *
The rest of the after-school meeting is a ridiculous waste of time. We’re supposed to get assigned students and peer groups, but Mr. Jacobi apparently got his wires crossed with the red-haired elementary school teacher and she didn’t have anything ready, so nothing gets accomplished except for all of us standing around getting lectured about being good role models.
The afternoon goes from bad to worse when I get home and my dad informs me that we (me, him, and his girlfriend, Cindy, are now apparently a “we,” according to my dad—how cozy) are going to Bes
t Buy to pick out a TV for my room.
“Why do I need a TV for my room?” I ask as my dad and I drive to meet Cindy at the mall. I’m being a brat. Of course I want a TV for my room. Who wouldn’t want a TV for their room? Watching Pretty Little Liars and The Vampire Diaries on my laptop is all well and good, but let’s face it—there’s no substitute for Ian Somerhalder on the big screen.
But up until now my dad has been anti-TV-in-my-room, believing that I’m going to hole up all day, watching movies and refusing to interact with society.
So if I want to watch TV, I have to do it in the living room. Which is probably why I’m suddenly now being allowed to have a TV in my room. Obviously, Cindy and my dad want the downstairs TV all to themselves. They want to, like, marginalize me to my room so they can hold hands on the couch while they watch sappy Nicholas Sparks movies.
Not that they have to worry. Since I have no friends and no boyfriend, I’ll be spending all of my time moping around my room anyway. My dad will probably blame it on the new TV and think that his worst fears are coming true.
“I just think it’s time for you to have one,” my dad says.
I roll my eyes as I get out of the car. Maybe after we’re done picking out the TV, he’ll let me go look at hair accessories. Maybe doing my hair in some fun new whimsical styles will make my mood more fun and whimsical.
Cindy’s waiting for us outside the store. She’s wearing this really nice camel-colored long wool coat that’s extremely stylish, but for some reason she has paired it with mom jeans.
“Hey, Cindy,” I say.
“Hi, Kendall.” She gives me a big smile, like she’s super-happy to see me. “I like your shirt.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I like your coat.”
“You do?” She beams. “It’s new.”
We walk inside and are immediately accosted by a salesperson wearing a nametag that says ROBBI. There’s an outline of an E after that, which obviously means his name is Robbie and a letter fell off somewhere.
“Hello,” he says. “And what are you shopping for today?”
“We’re just looking,” my dad says firmly, and I roll my eyes. My dad hates salespeople. Seriously, he totally refuses to ask for help with anything. When his doctor put him on a low-cholesterol diet and gave him a list of supplements that might help, he wandered around Whole Foods for half an hour before I talked to an employee without him noticing. It’s totally ridiculous.
“We’re looking for a TV,” I say now. If I’m going to be getting a TV, then I’m definitely going to need something high-end. If I’m going to be stuck in my room with no friends, eating my way through boxes of peanut butter cups, then I should at least be able to do it in high-def style.
“What size?” Robbie asks. “And do you like LCD or plasma?”
“LCD for sure,” a voice says behind me. “Plasma’s got a better picture, but the tubes always blow out, and then you have to replace them, and I honestly doubt your dad’s going to want do that.”
“Thanks,” I say automatically and turn around, expecting to see another Best Buy employee. But it’s not a Best Buy employee. It’s Lily. She’s peering at a display of heart rate monitors. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I put one of these on?” she asks, trying to touch them. But of course her hand just goes right through the display case. “Can you imagine?” She throws her head back and laughs. “You know, because I’m dead?” She laughs again.
“Who are you talking to?” my dad asks.
“Uh, Robbie, of course,” I say.
“But he asked you what kind of TV we wanted. There was nothing to thank him for.” My dad peers at Robbie like he’s some kind of con man instead of a college kid who’s probably working for minimum wage and just wants us to buy a TV so he can go on his break or whatever.
“I want an LCD,” I say. “That way we won’t have to keep replacing the bulbs.”
My dad looks at me in surprise.
“What?” I say defensively. “Just because I’m a girl, I can’t know about electronics?”
“No,” my dad says. “Not because you’re a girl. But because you’ve never showed any interest in anything technological before.”
“That’s such a lie,” I say. “Who’s the one who set up the wireless printer?”
“You set up the wireless printer?” Cindy asks. “That’s amazing!”
I can’t tell if she’s being nice or condescending. I decide to believe she’s being nice. “Thanks,” I say, beaming.
“Older people are so impressed with technology,” Lily muses. “Of course, I really shouldn’t be making fun of old people. They’re old and I’m dead, so honestly, they’re better off than I am.” She sighs and continues to look at the heart rate monitors.
She has a very good point. She actually seems kind of nice. Maybe I judged her too harshly just because she’s Madison Baker’s sister. Maybe Lily’s the nice one. So I probably shouldn’t judge Lily just because her sister is a brat.
Oh, well. It’s really not my concern anyway. Poor Lily is going to just have to find someone else to help her move on. I’ve decided I’m out of the ghost business for the foreseeable future.
“So here are our LCD TVs,” Robbie says, bringing us over to a section of the store and pointing to them with a flourish. All the TVs are tuned to SportsCenter. How lame.
“Can I turn the channel?” I ask.
“Be my guest.”
Robbie hands me the remote, and I turn to ABC Family, where they’re showing a rerun of a Vampire Diaries episode. Love it! I can just imagine snuggling up in my bed, watching this on the big screen.
“Now, don’t think we’re going to be buying any kind of protection plan,” my dad tells Robbie. “I read online that those things are rip-offs.”
“Okay,” Robbie says warily.
“Dad, you don’t have to be rude about it,” I say, giving Robbie what I hope is a friendly smile.
“I’ll tell you what’s rude,” my dad says. “Trying to get people to part with their hard-earned cash for something they’re not going to use.” He glares at Robbie again. Jeez. Talk about misplacing your anger.
I look to Cindy for help, but she’s just nodding along with my dad while she stares at the television screen. “What’s this actor’s name?” she asks.
“Ian Somerhalder.”
She gets a dreamy little smile on her face. Ew. I think Cindy likes what she sees.
“Don’t look so freaked out,” Lily whispers to me as she floats down the aisle. “She’s old, not blind.”
“Anyway,” my dad says. “We don’t want to be here all day, so let us know what the best-rated TV is and then I’ll google it on my phone to make sure you’re not being deceptive.”
“Why didn’t you just google it before you came in here?” Robbie asks sweetly. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not I was telling the truth.”
Wow. Robbie seemed so sedate, and now he’s getting smart with my dad. That’s definitely not going to go over well.
My dad’s lips set in a firm line, the same kind of line they get when he’s mad at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, his cell phone rings.
He looks down at the caller ID, and a look of surprise breaks out on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I have to take this.”
It’s probably one of his construction clients. Hopefully, a really demanding one who’s having some kind of complicated problem that’s going to take a long time to fix.
He hurries out of the store.
“What do you think of this one, Cindy?” I ask, not because I really value her opinion but because I need to break her out of her Ian Somerhalder daze.
“Ian Summerfield,” Cindy says, watching the screen.
“Somerhalder,” I correct.
“Is he in anything else?”
“I think he was in Lost.”
“Lost!” Her eyes brighten. “I’ve been meaning to watch that show. Do they have i
t on Netflix?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” Wow, she must really be in love with Ian Somerhalder. And now she’s getting all excited because she’ll be able to watch Lost to get her fix. I mean, how would she really explain to my dad that she wants to watch The Vampire Diaries?
“Ian Somerhalder is way too skinny,” Lily says. “He’s definitely nowhere near as cute as Channing Tatum.”
“Agreed,” I say, before I remember I’m not supposed to be talking to her.
“So!” I say, flipping through the channels. Obviously, if I want to get Cindy’s opinion, I’m going to have to get Ian Somerhalder’s face off the screen.
“Oh!” she says, seemingly startled. “Why did you change it?”
“Probably because you were drooling over that guy on television,” Robbie says, shaking his head. “All the girls want Ian Somerhalder. My girlfriend is obsessed with that guy. It’s annoying.”
“Aw,” I say. “I’m sure she thinks you’re just as good-looking as he is.” Robbie has frizzy hair and a little bit of acne, but beauty is only skin deep. I’m sure his girlfriend loves the way he looks. Otherwise, why would she be with him?
“No, she doesn’t,” Robbie grumbles.
“How do you know?” I ask. Click, click, click. I switch through the channels fast, trying to get a look at as many different programs as I can. I think it’s probably important to be diverse when it comes to figuring out picture quality.
“Because she says, ‘Wow, you really aren’t as good-looking as Ian Somerhalder.’ ”
“That’s really rude,” Lily says. She’s sitting on the floor of the store now, watching some kind of volleyball game playing on one of the screens on the bottom shelf.
“That’s really rude,” I echo. “It might be time for you to get a new girlfriend.”
“Yes,” Cindy chimes in. “If someone isn’t treating you with the respect you deserve, it’s time to find someone who will.”
Ghost of a Chance Page 5
