Tangled #3

by Taylor Morris

  “Want to come with us?” I asked. I wiggled my eyebrows up and down, hoping she’d get the hint that she should come with us.

  “I can’t,” she replied. “Jonah and I have plans.” A grin flickered across her face, which should have told me this was hopeless, but I had to keep trying.

  “What could you guys possibly be doing that’s more important than finding the perfect shadow for Lizbeth?”

  “We’re going roller-skating,” she said, now with a full-on smile. And, I noticed as I peered more closely at her, a slight blush.

  “Roller-skating?”

  “I know it’s random.”

  “Completely.”

  “But I’m really excited. And you have to admit—rollerskating is fun.”

  I didn’t want to admit anything right then—especially defeat. I tried another approach—guilt. “The thing is, we all haven’t been out just the four of us in a long time. Everyone’s getting so crazy over boys that I think it’s important that we take time to remember our friends. Don’t you think? It’ll be like a sisterhood bonding thing.”

  “Speaking of boys,” she said, turning to me with a glance toward the lunch line. “How’d it go with Kyle yesterday?”

  My stomach sank. I’d wanted to talk to her about that, but not now, in the caf as Kyle and Jonah walked over to us.

  “It was fine,” I said. “But really, think about tonight because we’re going to—”

  “Eve, explain to Kyle the awesomeness of level seven,” Jonah interrupted. He plopped his lunch tray next to Eve’s and sat down. Kyle sat across from me.

  “Level seven of what?” I asked.

  “Alien Doom,” Jonah said, leaning around Eve to tell me.

  I felt my throat go dry. I knew Eve liked to play video games with Jonah, but I used to be Jonah’s main competitor. They were doing everything together. Jonah hadn’t even invited me over to play video games in forever.

  “I only made it that far because you showed me the trick,” Eve said.

  And now he was showing her the secrets to the game? He’d never do that for me! I had to put a stop to this, and now. I had to think fast, get her distracted, separate those two so I could ambush one of them. If I couldn’t get Eve alone now maybe I could work on Jonah, using Kyle as backup. I looked at my water bottle and thought of lunch the other day, when Eve accidentally knocked it all over me.

  I took a sip from the bottle, then set it down on the table near Eve. Then I innocently reached for a chip and—oops!—hit the bottle instead, sending it all down Eve’s shirt and pants.

  “Oh my gosh!” I said. “Eve, I’m so sorry!”

  Eve gasped, looking down at her pale pink jeans, now darkened with the water soaking through them and the ends of her loose white top. “Oh no,” she said. “I need napkins!”

  “You need paper towels,” I said, trying to blot her with my one measly napkin. “You better head to the bathroom.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, standing up.

  As she walked out—wet spot on her butt and all—Jonah said, “Smooth going, Mickey.”

  I swatted his arm.

  “Hey!” he said, grabbing his arm. “What’s that for?”

  “Sorry,” I said, checking to make sure Eve was out of earshot. “Could you guys go one night without seeing each other?”

  “Yes, we could,” he said, eyeing me warily. “But we’re going out tonight.”

  “I can’t believe you two,” I said, then sent a meaningful look in Kyle’s direction. Dude, help a girl out!

  “Yeah,” Kyle chimed in. “If you want, we can hang out tonight. Hit up the arcade—we haven’t done that in a while.”

  “Eve and I have plans,” Jonah said again.

  “Doing what?” Kyle asked.

  Jonah hesitated before saying to Kyle, “We’re going skating.”

  “As in boarding?”

  “As in roller,” Jonah said, his face turning red.

  Kyle busted out laughing. “What? You can’t be serious. Dude, we haven’t done that since, like, fifth grade.”

  “Shut up, man,” Jonah said, trying to regain his dignity. “If you ever get a girlfriend I won’t make fun of your dates.” Then, I swear, Jonah looked at me . . . and then Kyle did, too.

  “Listen, Jonah,” I said, looking toward the exit to the restrooms. Still clear. “This was your idea, wasn’t it? Roller-skating?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

  “Did she act kind of . . . I don’t know, weird when you suggested it?”

  “How should I know?” he said. “She’s a girl. You all act funny. You’ve been acting weird all day.”

  I looked at Kyle again, his brown eyes piercing into mine. He gave me a look like, “Have you?”

  “I have not,” I said to Jonah. “Look, Eve wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but . . . she has a truly heinous memory of roller-skating. She used to like going until Marla, her best friend at her old school, told her she didn’t want to be her friend anymore and ditched her at the roller rink. It’s hard enough to have any dignity in a pair of ugly brown boots with orange wheels that a million people before you have worn. But to get dumped in them, too? Now when Eve sees a pair of skates she basically breaks out in hives.”

  Jonah looked at me skeptically. “Then why’d she say yes?”

  “Because!” I said, trying to think of something believable. “She probably panicked. Who wants to tell their boyfriend that they don’t like his idea for a date? But I can tell you—she doesn’t want to go. It’s actually kind of bad that you suggested it. She was totally traumatized.”

  Jonah looked over at the exit. “Oh,” he said. “I don’t want her to feel bad.”

  I nodded. “Don’t say anything to her—especially in front us. Just, like, text her or something that you don’t want to go anymore. Really, you’ll be doing her a favor.”

  “Maybe we can do something else,” he suggested hopefully.

  “Jonah, have you not been listening?” I said.

  “Unless you come up with something big to do in the next few hours, you better just postpone. Seriously, you don’t want to suggest another major fail like roller-skating. I’m telling you, Eve’s really upset—she just hides it well.”

  Jonah considered this.

  “Dude, we can do something,” Kyle piped in. “Let’s hit the skate park after school, then check out the new games at the arcade in the mall.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Hi, Eve!” I said as she came back to the table.

  “Uh, hi, guys,” she said, looking at me suspiciously as she sat down. Her pants were sort of dry but, um, not really. It was an improvement, though. “Were you guys just talking about me?” She looked between the three of us. The three of us looked at one another.

  “Oh my gosh, Eve!” I said suddenly. “Our test! It’s next period. We should go study, right?”

  “Jonah said it wasn’t that hard,” Eve said. She gave me a weird look. “Are you okay, Mickey?”

  “Of course!” I replied. “I just didn’t have a study partner last night so if you wouldn’t mind helping me out now?” Really, I knew I was laying it on thick. “Come on, Eve. We can do a quick cram session.” I gathered up my stuff. Eve shrugged and then grabbed her stuff, too.

  “Probably a good idea,” she said. “You guys are too weird today.”

  I smiled as we walked out of the cafeteria. Score one for team Mickey and Kyle.

  CHAPTER 14

  “I finished the book but didn’t get what Boo Radley’s deal was,” I said to Eve. “Was that symbolism or something?”

  Eve and I sat in the empty halls near our English class, leaning against the lockers.

  “I think he represents, like, the good in people, no matter what they’ve been through,” she replied.

  “Right,” I said, writing it down. “The good in people.” Like the greater good of me helping Eve and Jonah see that their friends were important, too.

  “Jona
h said on the test we have to name two things Boo represents. We get a bonus for three. So the good in people is one,” she said. “And I think he also has something to do with Scout’s growth. Or maybe maturity? Because at the end she’s not afraid of him and even likes him, like she—” Eve’s phone beeped, indicating a new text had come in. She dug it out of her bag. “Like she sees him as not scary anymore.” Her brow furrowed as she read the text.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She shook her head, staring at the phone. She started to text something back, then stopped. “I think Jonah just canceled on me for tonight.”

  “What’d he say?” I asked.

  She held up the phone for me to read:

  Forget roller-skating. Sorry I suggested it!!!

  “What’s that about?” she asked, looking back at the screen.

  “Weird,” I said. “But Jonah and Kyle were talking at lunch about hanging out since they haven’t in so long. They mentioned the skate park and arcade.”

  “Really?” She looked up at me. Her wispy hair fell over her eyes but she didn’t brush it aside; she just let it hang there. “So he just bailed?”

  I felt my stomach start to clench. I didn’t want Eve to be sad or upset but I had to stick to the plan—because the plan would fix everything.

  She started texting back.

  “What are you writing?”

  When she finished she said, “I just wrote, ‘Okay, never mind I guess. I’ll just hang with the girls.’ If that’s still cool with you?”

  “Of course!” I said. “You’re always invited.”

  “Thanks, Mickey,” she said. She chucked her phone back in her bag, then sat quietly, flipping through her notes.

  “I’m really sorry, Eve,” I said. Having my friend miserable was not part of the plan.

  “It’s stupid,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just that tonight was kind of a big deal.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Not because of roller-skating or anything dumb like that. Even though I was excited about it. I mean, when was the last time we went roller-skating? Like, fifth grade. I thought it would be fun.”

  “I’m sure it would have been,” I said, starting to feel really bad. But we would have fun tonight, too. I promised myself that I would make sure Eve had the best night with her friends ever.

  “Tonight was going to be my first date,” she admitted. “My mom said you always remember your first date, and now this is what I’ll remember from mine.”

  “What about Monday afternoon?” I asked. “Wasn’t that a date? Ice cream and dinner and a game?”

  “No, not exactly,” she said. “All that just sort of happened. Except for the ice cream. That was planned. Something about tonight felt more official.”

  “Oh, Eve,” I said. What had I done? “I’m sure Jonah didn’t do it to be mean. He’s just a boy, you know?”

  She shifted her body to face me. “Yeah, but you know Jonah. It doesn’t seem like him to bail like this, does it?” She looked at me hopefully. I gulped.

  “I’m sure there’s a good reason,” I said. Yeah. Me. Could I feel any worse? “But we’ll have a blast tonight. I’m going to buy you everything at the concession stand, okay?”

  She forced a smile. “Thanks, Mickey. You’re a good friend.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The buzz and energy in Hello, Gorgeous! was at an all-time high on Friday afternoon. I was practically run over by stylists, clients, cameras, and a bunch of new people dressed in all black who I didn’t recognize: the Head Honchos.

  “It’s crazy in here,” I said to Megan. She had the phone resting on her shoulder while she looked something up on the computer. “What can I do?” I asked.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “We can totally use the help.”

  I looked around and realized the energy was high but not happy. Everyone looked frazzled.

  “Cecilia’s ‘experts,’” Megan said, making quotes with her fingers when she said experts, “are observing us before Cecilia makes her recommendations. They’re supposed to just watch, and maybe give little tips here and there, but everyone’s feeling the pressure. No one wants to be criticized on TV.”

  I watched Giancarlo, his hand on his hip as his “expert” showed him something with the scissors.

  “So she hasn’t made her recommendations yet?” I asked.

  “No, but those Honchos are causing enough grief for now. Giancarlo’s guy is some supposed big shot from Chicago. Award-winning this-or-that,” she said. “I didn’t catch the details.” We looked at Giancarlo and I could tell he was holding in a load of frustration as his Head Honcho hovered nearby.

  Megan looked me over and said, “You better get changed before you-know-who sees you and shames you on camera for not wearing your uniform.”

  “I’m already being shamed on camera for wearing it,” I said.

  As I walked to the back, several of the Head Honchos stood beside our stylists’ chairs, watching them closely and giving advice.

  “That is not how I do it,” Giancarlo said to a short young man with James Dean hair.

  “But that’s my point,” the man said. “The way you’re doing it leaves bad angles.”

  “Boy, I have been doing hair for twenty years. I don’t need some kid to—”

  “Again, that’s my point!” the guy said. “You’ve been doing it one way for so long that you don’t even know about the new techniques! If you’d just listen . . .”

  I kept walking to the back. I didn’t want to see a throwdown.

  “Hello, Mickey,” Mom said. Not exactly a warm greeting but at least she hadn’t banished me from the salon. She followed me into the break room carrying an armful of shampoos and conditioners.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “I mean, with the Head Honchos being here, watching all the stylists?”

  She set the bottles on the table. “It’s fine.”

  “I think Giancarlo is about to ultimate-fight with his assistant,” I said.

  “I think everyone is really learning a lot,” she said. But I could tell from the tone of her voice that she knew there was a very real possibility of a brawl. “How was your English test today?”

  “It was fine,” I said. “I think I did pretty well.” There had been an essay question about friendship, and how it relates to Boo Radley. I’d thought for a while on that, tapping my pen nervously on my desk. I thought of Eve, and how open and nice she always was—always real—and how that attitude made it easy to become friends with her. Eve’s no Boo, but it made me see that simple kindness can lead to friendship, as Scout learned at the end of the book when she was faced with ol’ Boo.

  “That’s great,” she said, and something about her attitude seemed too casual.

  “You seem more . . . relaxed since last night,” I said, nervous about bringing it up. I’ve learned that it’s best not to remind people of the pain and anguish you’ve caused them.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was a bit forced. She made room on the shelf and placed the bottles she’d brought up one by one. “The stylists are getting some help from the assistants but I’m sure they could still use a hand and a sweep. And don’t forget Rowan. See if she needs anything, too.”

  “You got it,” I said.

  I put on my smock and got to work. I started by sweeping Violet’s station. She was the calmest of the stylists today, but I guess she had to set a good example, being the manager and all.

  “Make sure those layers don’t create a shelf in the back of her head,” the Head Honcho directed.

  “I won’t,” Violet said calmly. Though I could see a look of panic in her eyes.

  This had probably already been a long day for everyone.

  A little later, Giancarlo asked me to please go get him a bottle of water from the back. He looked wiped. “And get me the sparkling, not the flat,” he said. “And chilled, not war
m.”

  Because it was Giancarlo I didn’t mind the terse tone of his voice—I knew he didn’t mean it.

  I got a small chilled bottle from the back, then started back up to the floor. As I passed the basement door, I thought I heard something, someone talking down there, but I wasn’t sure. I paused to listen. Suddenly, the door went flying open and I stumbled back away from it. Cecilia busted through, slamming the door behind her.

  “Mickey,” she said with a smile. Her black cat’s-eye glasses were looking a little dusty on the lenses but her red hair still held its springy curl. “Good to see you again. How’s the work going?”

  “Fine! Everything’s great.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled, wiping her hands on a towel. It was already covered in dirt. “The team is very lucky to have you here.”

  “So, uh . . . what’s happening down there?” I asked, trying to seem like I was just making friendly conversation.

  “We’re just looking at our options,” she said. “Have you found any more of those great vintage hair clips?” I couldn’t believe she’d remembered that from her first day here. She really did care about what I said and did.

  “No, not recently,” I said.

  “If you do, be sure to show me,” she said. “I do love vintage.”

  “Me too!” I said. “And, um, I’ll show you if I find anything.”

  Cecilia went out to the floor to check on her Head Honchos and I followed behind to deliver Giancarlo’s chilled, sparkling water. He was still red-faced over his Head Honcho’s suggestions (although I heard him use the word demands), but when he saw Cecilia he took a deep breath and continued cutting. I cautiously set the water on his station and backed away.

  Devon was going through something similar with her Head Honcho—an older woman who called her technique “old-fashioned and in big need of an update.” Of course Devon took great offense to this since she specialized in retro looks. But everyone managed to keep their mouths shut and just do the work. Mom wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Kristen and Lizbeth showed up at six thirty—half an hour early—looking extra fab. I had a feeling it had something to do with the cameras that were turning on them at that very moment.