by Barbara Dee
We trudged out of the parking lot, both of us feeling so sorry for Espee that we could barely talk.
chapter 16
A couple of blocks later, Francesca suggested we go to I Scream “as a gesture of support to Espee,” who, she said, was probably rushing right home to snarf down an entire pint of ice cream. I didn’t argue; after what we’d just seen, the last thing I felt like doing was sitting at my computer and Googling the San Francisco Earthquake. Besides, I told myself, we owed something to Espee—maybe not sympathy–ice cream, but something real, something that would rescue her from Theo’s cruel rejection. I had no idea what it could be, but I wanted to go somewhere and think seriously about the situation. So I said yes to Francesca’s suggestion, even though I realized I’d probably be paying.
I Scream was crazy that afternoon, with a Cub Scout troop and a little kids’ birthday party spilling out of the back room. As soon as Francesca and I walked in the door, we dumped our school stuff on a corner table and ordered two large chocolate shakes from Zane’s dad. We’d just sat down with our shakes when Francesca announced that she desperately needed to go to the bathroom. “Don’t steal my shake,” she scolded, wagging her finger at me. “I’ll be able to tell.”
“Shut up,” I answered, sticking out my tongue at her.
For a few minutes I sat there giving myself chocolate brain-freeze and watching this sweaty magician-type blowing up balloon dachshunds for the screaming birthday kids. And then, all of a sudden, Zane appeared out of the back room. He was wearing an I SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM T-shirt and a Bob the Builder party hat. And for some reason, he walked over and sat down in the empty chair next to me, that boy way, with his legs spread far apart.
“Evie,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
“You were?” I wiped my chocolate mustache with the back of my hand.
“About Friday.” He blinked his beautiful gold-hazel eyes. “What about a movie?”
“What about one?” I said. And then it hit me. He was asking me to a movie.
HE WAS ASKING ME TO A MOVIE.
“Oh. Yeah, great,” I said casually. “That sounds … great.”
“We’ll talk,” he said, doing that head-jerk thing with his bangs. And then he got up from the table and walked back to the birthday room.
I nearly peed.
“Evie, are you okay?” Francesca asked like one-majillionth of a second later.
“Omigod,” I answered. I stared at her.
“Did something just happen?”
“YES,” I said. “Zane asked me out. To a MOVIE.”
“That’s wonderful!” She beamed at me. “It’s what you wanted, right?”
I nodded. “But, I mean. It’s unbelievable, Francesca. He barely even spoke to me before.”
Francesca sat down and took a long sip of milk shake. “Well, you should have a little more self-confidence, Evie. You’re a truly good person, you’re smart, you’re pretty, and my cousin liked you, so why shouldn’t Zane?”
“Your cousin?”
“Quentin, remember? The cute P.S. on that hideous card? So what do you think you’ll wear on Friday?”
“Wear?”
She laughed. “You’ll need an outfit. Want to borrow something from Aunt Sam?”
“NO,” I said, suddenly waking up. “I mean, no thanks! I’ll just dress normally. I mean, normal for me.”
“Well, what about those earrings?”
“You mean those gold dangly ones?”
“Just think about it, okay? You’ll want to look gorgeous for your date.”
“Yeah,” I said, grinning like an idiot. “I’ll think about it, Francesca.”
Then I floated home.
Grace was sitting at the kitchen table doing her AP Bio. “Hey, Evie,” she said as soon as I came in the door. “Are you okay? You look weird.”
“I’m absolutely perfect.” I sat down next to her. “Can I tell you something amazing?”
“If it’s quick.”
“Somebody asked me out.”
She stared at me. “You mean like on a date?”
I nodded.
“Whoa. Well, you’re not going, are you?”
“Sure I am. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re in seventh grade.” She frowned at me. “Does Mom know about this?”
“How could she? I just got home!”
“Well, you’d better tell her tonight. And you should realize she’ll probably say no.”
My heart was starting to bang. “Why should she? It’s just to the movies!”
“Evie, I never went out when I was in seventh grade.”
“Well, what does that have to do with me? You’re you, and I’m—”
“Too immature to be dating.”
“How would you know?” I could feel my armpits getting wet. “Besides, tons of people date in seventh grade!”
“Well, maybe that’s because they have messed-up priorities.”
“What?”
“Maybe they aren’t putting academics first. The way they should be, at your age.”
“So according to you,” I said in a loud ha-ha sort of voice, “unless I freak out the way you did in seventh grade, I’m totally messed up? Is that what you’re saying?”
Grace looked slapped. “I didn’t freak out, I focused. Unlike you, apparently.”
“What? I’m completely focused!”
“On what?”
“Lots of things.” I didn’t want to say “Theo and Espee,” so I added, “School. And also having a life.”
“Let me tell you something,” Grace said. “You can focus on school, or you can focus on having a life. You can’t focus on both.” Then she shut her book and stomped out of the kitchen.
Well, what does Grace know? I thought. Why CAN’T I have both? I remembered what Francesca had told me that night on the beach: “School is not the whole wide world.” Plenty of things were just as important—love, for example. Of course Grace wouldn’t understand this, because all she cared about was schoolwork. In fact, that was all my whole family seemed to care about—work, work, work. I suddenly felt sorry for them—sorry for everyone but Francesca, who actually asked herself cosmos questions and thought about things like soulmates. Even Espee understood that life was bigger than Blanton Middle School. If only she could be as blissfully happy as I was right now.
It turned out that Mom had an endless real estate dinner that night, so I couldn’t talk to her about the date business until the morning. Which was fine with me, actually. Because as long as she hadn’t said I couldn’t go, I could imagine Friday night any way I liked: me with earrings, me without earrings. That night I went to bed so ecstatic, I thought I might even wear my amber necklace to school tomorrow. After all, Nisha wasn’t talking to me, so she couldn’t tease me about the prehistoric mosquito. And since Zane had asked me out, it was okay to wear a (sort of) love token. Although maybe, I thought, it would be better to save it for Friday, in honor of my first-ever date.
I lay in bed for a long time wishing there were stars outside my window. And thinking: Necklace. Boyfriend. Love token.
Okay, not love token. But close enough.
And that was when I had the best, most incredible idea ever. Of my entire life.
chapter 17
It turned out Grace was right about one thing: Mom did have a have a problem with the whole Dating in Seventh Grade thing. But at breakfast on Thursday morning she said it would be okay with her if the movie was a “group outing.” Which meant that I could go if, like, fifteen people joined us, and we all wore identical T-shirts and went to the bathroom buddy-system. Okay, I’m exaggerating. But the bottom line was, as long as we invited a bunch more kids, I could have my movie date with Zane. So at 7:30, when I went to ring Francesca’s doorbell, I was still basically delirious.
Plus, I had spent the night thinking about My Incredible Idea, which I sprang on Francesca the second she opened the door.
“Remember that locket your aunt
’s boyfriend gave her? The one she doesn’t wear anymore?”
“Evie? What are you babbling about?” Francesca scowled at me in the sunlight, as if she’d just woken up thirty seconds ago. And she probably had: Her eyes were squinty, her hair was a snarled mess, and she was drinking something out of a stainless-steel commuter cup.
“The silver locket,” I reminded her. “With the fancy initials. It was in the box called ‘Vintage.’ You showed it to me, remember?”
“God, it’s too early in the day to remember anything. Come inside,” she grunted, and took a big sip from her cup. “You want some Mochaccino?”
A rabbit scampered across her feet, but she didn’t even notice.
“Listen to me, Francesca,” I said, the words just rushing out of my mouth. “You know how the letter didn’t work, how humiliated Espee felt in the parking lot yesterday? Well, she’ll never get anywhere with Theo if she just gives up! But what if she thought he loved her back? Don’t you think her body language would be different? And maybe even her clothes? And don’t you think Theo would look at her like, I don’t know what, but definitely not like a teacher?”
Francesca raised one eyebrow. “Go on.”
“So I’ve been thinking: What could convince Espee of Theo’s love? She’s feeling incredibly insecure right now, so it would have to be something specific. But also beautiful, because he’s an artist, right? And then I remembered that heart-shaped locket. I mean, I know she never wears jewelry, but I bet she would if she thought it was a love token. Because ‘SP, TR.’ How could it not be from Theo?”
“Tristan Royce, Theo Rafferty,” Francesca murmured. “Samantha Pattison, Stephanie Pierce.”
I grinned. “The very same initials. Isn’t it such an amazing coincidence, Francesca? Don’t you think it totally feels like fate?”
“Yes, it does,” she said slowly. “Un-cruel fate. So what are you saying? We should plant Samantha’s locket on her desk? Or maybe stick it in her mailbox?”
“Her desk is better.” As soon as I said that, I could feel my heart start to race. “I’ve been thinking about this all night. The faculty mailroom is too public. Somebody might see us.”
“Evie Webber,” Francesca said. She stared for about three more seconds, then threw her arms around me. “YOU are an UTTER GENIUS. Did you know that about yourself? Did you realize that you were an utter, utter—”
“Ack. You’re squeezing me.”
“Sorry. You’re ridiculously skin and bones. And an UTTER GENIUS. What an ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT IDEA. It’s gorgeous. No, it’s better than gorgeous. It’s … STAGGERINGLY EPIC.”
“Shh,” I said, beaming. “You’ll wake up Samantha.”
“She’s already up. Big audition this morning.” Her eyes widened. “Perfect timing, come to think of it. We can sneak upstairs and get the locket while she’s in the shower.”
“You mean now?”
“No time like the present.” She took one last gulp of Mochaccino and then we tiptoed quickly up the stairs. Without Francesca reminding me, I slipped off my shoes outside Samantha’s bedroom. Then we tiptoed inside.
“Don’t cry for me, Argentina,” Samantha was singing in her shower. “You were sup-posed to be immortal …”
“You stay here,” Francesca whispered. “I’ll get the locket.”
I suddenly remembered that the boxes were in the closet room on the other side of the bathroom. Francesca would have to sneak past her singing aunt both ways. “Wait! Won’t she see you?”
“Not through the steam,” she replied. And immediately I knew she’d done this before.
I stood barefoot in the fabulous boudoir listening to Samantha belt out show tunes, and also to the chandelier: plinka plinka plinka, the most beautiful faraway music. Only it wasn’t faraway, it was right here. And so was I. The weird thing was, I felt like I belonged. Even though of course I was totally trespassing.
“Got it,” Francesca mumbled as she burst out of the bathroom. “Now let’s get out of here. Fast!”
I grabbed my shoes and my backpack, and we ran out the door and all the way to Blanton Middle School, laughing like crazy.
Once we got to school, the big question was: How could we get the locket onto Espee’s desk without her—or anyone else, for that matter—noticing? Francesca had a fantastic plan: One of us would distract her, and the other one would slip inside the classroom and plant the locket on her desk.
“But since the whole thing is your idea, you get dibs,” she said, which I thought was incredibly generous.
I told her I wanted to plant the locket.
“Lovely,” Francesca said. “All right, Evie, let’s think. She usually gets a container of yogurt for lunch, right? So on her way upstairs from the lunchroom I’ll stop her to talk about U.S. History, and you’ll break into Spush.”
“Break in? Not break in, Francesca!”
“Go in. Walk in. Whatever you want to call it.”
“ Walk in is fine.” I considered the plan for a second. “Wait, wait! You’ll stop her to talk about U.S. History? Won’t that seem a little, uh, suspicious?”
“I’ll ask her about the San Francisco Earthquake, okay? Don’t worry about me. Everything is going to be absolutely perfect!”
Then Francesca handed me the locket, which I quickly rolled up in a tissue and stuffed into my pants pocket.
It all went according to plan. Francesca was a chatty talker, which meant I had plenty of time to position the locket perfectly on Espee’s overflowing desk. I have to admit that just being alone in Espee’s classroom was as big a thrill as standing all alone in Samantha’s boudoir—in a way, an even bigger thrill, because I knew I was doing something wonderful and important for someone who desperately needed my help. So I made the moment last as long as I could, listening to the classroom clock tick, and also to the busy humming sound of Espee’s computer.
Then I ran downstairs to the lunchroom, where Francesca was standing by the frozen yogurt machine, squirting herself a gigantic bowlful.
As soon as she saw me she put down her bowl. “How did it go?”
“It went,” I said.
We fist-bumped and grinned at each other.
“I’m so fantastically proud of you, Evie,” Francesca murmured, her green eyes shining. “You’re utterly transformed; you’re the opposite of paralyzed.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, it’s obvious. You’re like a whole new Evie Webber.”
A whole new Evie Webber. I actually felt goosebumps. Not the cold kind or the nervous kind. The incredibly happy-and-excited kind.
Then Francesca picked up her cardboard bowl and took an enormous spoonful of frozen yogurt. “And now,” she said, swallowing it all in one gulp, “we sit back, twiddle our thumbs, and wait to see what happens.”
chapter 18
We didn’t have to wait long.
As we were walking down the hall to Spush, we could see Espee standing in front of the classroom chatting with Kayla and Gaby, who was doing her car-alarm laugh. I couldn’t imagine why. Was Espee making some kind of joke? It was hard to imagine her saying something that Gaby would find so hysterically funny. On the other hand, Gaby was the type to laugh at anything.
Finally the horrible laughing stopped. And we were maybe ten steps away from them when I noticed something shiny around Espee’s neck.
It was the locket.
Tristan’s present to Samantha.
Which Espee was actually wearing.
“Francesca,” I said.
“Brilliant,” she murmured. “Stay calm, Evie.” Suddenly her voice sounded loud and cheerful. “Oh, hello, Ms. Pierce. Thanks for chatting with me before about the earthquake. Those books you recommended sound absolutely fantastic.”
Espee blinked. Whatever she’d just said to Gaby, she looked totally serious now. “Really? Well, I’m glad I was so helpful.”
“Oh, you were! I think I’ll stop by the library this afternoon and try to find them.”
&nbs
p; I wanted to add something impressive-sounding about my own research, but I could feel my cheeks burning stupidly, and I thought that at any moment I might burst into nervous giggles. Plus, I could see that Kayla was rolling her eyes at Gaby. So I poked Francesca.
“All right, well, see you inside,” she said brightly to Espee, and we walked into the room. As soon as we were inside, Francesca clapped her hands. “Yee-haw, it worked! She’s wearing the locket, so that’s Step One in the self-esteem makeover. Now we’ve got to get her out of those clothes and into something less tragic.”
“How?” I said, laughing. “You’re going to stuff one of Samantha’s sarongs into her mailbox?”
Francesca laughed too. “Yes, yes, perfect! Oh, Evie, you’re on fire! Do you think she likes tropical flowers?”
Of course all I could think about the entire Spush was planting the sarong—not in the mailbox, but somewhere private and discreet, like maybe in one of the cupboards in Espee’s classroom, or in the small closet where she stored her maps. I wanted to spend the afternoon planning this out with Francesca, and also settling on which sarong we’d steal from Samantha’s collection. But at dismissal Francesca told me she couldn’t, because one of her aunts—I think she said it was Beebee—was coming over to Samantha’s “just to check in.”
“Check in on what?” I asked, not even trying to hide my disappointment.
“Who knows. The rabbits, probably. Anyway, it’ll be a complete waste of my afternoon, but at least you’ll have some time to work on your movie date. Have you thought who else to ask yet?”
“Not really.” The truth was, I’d been so busy thinking about Espee’s love life, I hadn’t been focusing on Friday night. “So far there’s you, me, and Zane.”
“Not enough to satisfy Mom, I presume. What about Nisha and Lily?”
I shrugged. “I told you, Francesca. Things are sort of weird.”
Francesca frowned. “That utterly makes no sense. You should at least ask them if they’d like to go. It’s your first date—you shouldn’t exclude your best friends!”
