by Cassie Mae
“She…um…I…it’s like this…”
Ryan comes up behind Lexie covering her eyes. “Guess who.”
Saved by my best friend.
“A loser.”
“Takes one to know one,” Ryan says and drops his hands. Lexie turns around and smacks him on the chest, but he just smiles. “So what’d I miss?”
“I was talking to Nate before you so rudely interrupted.”
“You weren’t talking to him. You were demanding answers. Big difference.”
“Is there?”
Ryan pokes her in the side, and she twists his finger until he breaks free.
“Yes,” he squeals.
“By the way. Kaylee is on her way to her locker. You know. In case you wanted to know.” Ryan nods toward the school and before Lexie can go back into interrogation mode, I take off.
My feet smack the pavement, and I swear as the outside turns into lockers and hallways, I just broke a Guinness World Record. I come to a stumbling stop, latching onto the corner of the wall to keep me from going down.
There she is. Perfect and beautiful like always except now there’s a sadness in her gaze, a brokenness in the way she puts her books in her locker. The ray of happiness she exuded with no effort at all is dull, darkened. And it’s all my fault.
I take my hat off, ready to accept defeat, when her big green eyes catch mine. We just stand there, staring at each other, neither one of us taking a step toward the other.
The only thing I want is to hold her in my arms. Pull her close, kiss her head, and tell her just how sorry I am. But there’s one thing holding me back—the fear that she won’t want to be there. That she’ll pull away and beat my chest again, tell me she hates me and never wants to see me. I don’t think my heart can take that.
So instead of going to her, I offer her up the slightest of smiles, tip my hat at her and head to first period. Alone.
***
I see Kaylee in the hall and go up to her, but as the first word leaves my mouth she mumbles something and takes off. She should be in lunch, and I could try again. But she never shows.
According to Lexie, she isn’t feeling well and went home early. She’s convinced Lexie she’s come down with something and doesn’t want to get anyone sick which is why she isn’t talking to me.
Lexie believes her just because she doesn’t think Kaylee can be within ten feet of me without jumping my bones. If she only knew that now it’s the total opposite. The sight of me probably disgusts her.
I sit at our lunch table and try to act as normal as possible, scribbling in my notebook. Only problem is, there’s not much you can hide from the ones who know you better than they know themselves. Kaylee may have fooled Lexie, but there’s no way I can. I’m a magician not an actor.
Lexie takes a big bite of her turkey sandwich while Ryan picks at his fries. “So are you going to tell us?” Lexie asks around the food in her mouth.
“No.”
Lexie goes to talk but Ryan holds his hand up. “Lex, if he doesn’t want to talk he doesn’t have to talk.”
“Fine then. I’ll just stop at Kaylee’s after school.”
“And how are you getting there?” Ryan asks.
“You.”
“We have to walk Brewster.”
I say a silent prayer for Lexie’s dog walking job. I honestly don’t know why I care so much about Lexie not finding out. Kaylee needs someone. Lexie could be there for her. But that’s just it. I want to be the one that is there for her.
“After we walk Brewster. We have to pass her street anyway.”
“Actually,” I say a little too loud. Lexie steals a fry off Ryan’s plate and looks up at me, her eyebrow cocked. “I kind of need a new magician’s assistant. Would you be interested?”
“Hell no,” Lexie says.
“But the talent show is only a week away and—”
“Lex, how can you say no to that face?” Ryan grabs my chin and turns it toward her. I pout my lip and bat my eyelashes.
“Ugh! Fine!”
“Now was that so hard?” Ryan asks her.
“Yes,” she mutters.
Ryan gives her an exaggerated hug then turns to me. “I’ll drop her at your place around four.”
I hate to replace Kaylee, but I have no choice. She won’t talk to me.
Lexie spots Sean douchebag Dixon, and her gaze darts to him. Ryan’s eyes drop for a brief second before he shakes it off and looks at me.
He nods his head toward me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that I have a partner now, but Kaylee…”
Understanding flashes across Ryan’s face.
“Swing dancing isn’t easy. I don’t know how she’ll find someone so last minute.”
Ryan smiles. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
***
“So you just get in the box, squeeze against the side after I close you up, and then don’t move. Pretty easy,” I say to Lexie and hold the door open for her.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Easy for the guy in charge of the sharp objects and not stuck inside this death trap.”
“No one has ever died in the zigzag box.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“Yes.”
Instead of moving toward the box she takes a step back.“So if I Wikipedia this I won’t find any cases of death by zigzag box?”
“No. Now can you just get in?”
She sighs loudly then finally steps into the box. I shut the door, and she sucks in a deep breath.
“You okay?”
She wiggles around. “How the hell did Kaylee fit her boobs in here?”
I honestly don’t know. And the last thing I want to think about is Kaylee or her amazing body. How she is the perfect assistant and the reason my act was going to kick major butt. Or how, even if you take the show away, we are still a perfect match.
A blood curdling scream comes from the box, and Lexie starts banging on the door. “Spider! Let me out! Omigod. Omigod. Omigod. Out. Out. Now. Now. NOW!”
I rip the box open, and Lexie jumps out, screaming and swatting at herself. “I’m gonna die. Get it off. Get it off.” She smacks and swats the back of her arm so I spin her around, knowing damn well if I don’t kill this spider, Lexie will have a heart attack. I know CPR, but it doesn’t mean I ever want to use it.
I search for the killer beast then laugh my ass off.
“Did you get it?”
“You mean this?” I ask and move my hand to Lexie’s face. She screams and jumps back, tripping on my magic wand and landing ass-first on my floor.
“It’s your own hair,” I say through my laughs before I offer a hand.
“Not funny,” she says and latches onto me, and I pull her to her feet.
“Can we please just get through this trick?”
“Sorry Nate, but there is no way in hell I’m going back in there.”
Great. I don’t have an assistant, I don’t have an act. But come to think of it none of that matters anyway. Not without Kaylee.
Chapter 17
I stare at the contents of my locker, not sure if I’m happy or sad to see the newest blue notecard sitting on top of my Chemistry book. Marcus keeps waggling his eyebrows at me, and I laugh and act embarrassed like I usually do, even though I’m not really feeling it.
He goes off with his new boyfriend, the bell rings about a minute after he leaves, and I’m still staring at the note.
I don’t want to read it. The guy should know Nate’s my boyfriend, even though the last week has been rough on us, we never technically broke up. I’m just sad, and I think Nate is keeping his distance because I was a complete witch with a capital B. But there’s so much space between us now I feel like I have to cross the ocean just to get back to him.
Nate’s still my boyfriend. So I slam the locker shut and make my way to last period.
***
“Know your partner! Know yourself!” Ava calls out to the clas
s. Ryan’s eyebrow twitches as he raises it at her. I point at a long scar I haven’t noticed before.
“What happened?” I ask, while he tries to master a simple box-step.
“Nate convinced me I could fly.” He grins. “Yeah… I couldn’t.”
“Guess he’s not that good of a magician.” I wince as Ryan crushes my pinky toe.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and I try to put some space between us, but he trips into me. I’m laughing as Ava gives us an exasperated look, and Ryan composes himself. “I really think you should’ve called Nate for this.”
I shrug. Ryan sets his hand on my waist and pulls me close without asking any more prodding questions. I secretly thank him for not pushing it out of me. But not pushing actually makes me want to talk about it.
“I’ve been sad,” I say over his shoulder.
“Because of Nate?”
I shake my head. “No… not really.”
Ryan’s hand tightens around mine, and I get no warning before he attempts to spin me out. I fumble and trip and laugh my way back into his arms.
“Then why are you sad?” he asks.
I let my chin rest on his shoulder, hoping he keeps to the side-to-side step so I don’t fall on my rear.
“My best friend died.”
He stops dancing. “Oh man, Kaylee… I’m sorry.”
A tiny laugh slips through my lips, and I pat his shoulder. “He was a gerbil.”
He jerks back to look at me, and I give him a pathetic smile, like, yes, my best friend was a pet. He pushes his lips together and clears his throat.
“Well… that’s just as devastating.”
“Thanks.” I shake my head and settle it back on his shoulder. “Mr. Pippi would’ve liked you.”
“Mr. who?”
“Pippi. My gerbil.”
He shakes with laughter, making my head bounce. “How’d you come up with that name? Was he a pisser?”
“Pippi, not pee-pee.” I lightly smack his arm. “Twelve-year-old.”
He laughs again, spins me out right into another dancer. His face goes “Oops” as he pulls me back in. He really needs to stop trying now.
“So that’s why you haven’t been around? You’ve been holding his funeral services?”
“I’ve just needed to be sad for a while. I think Nate understands that.” The lie falls from my mouth so naturally I even believe it myself.
“All right, dancers,” Ava says, changing the slow music to a faster number. “Time for the Lindy Hop.”
Ryan backs away looking like a deer in the headlights. We both gaze down at my ruby red shoes that he’s totally scuffed. I pat his shoulder and say, “Don’t worry. I think I have that one down.”
“Maybe Nate can go over it with you one more time before your dad’s thing.”
I nod and smile, but it takes a lot of effort. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m see-through with my emotions or if Ryan is just really intuitive, but he takes a deep breath and pulls me into a hug. I squeeze him back.
“Yeah,” I say, “maybe.”
***
Mr. Pippi’s cage looks so sad without him. Water half full since he hasn’t been here to drink it. Wheel sitting untouched. Not like he touched it all that much, unless I was sleeping. I’d wake up to the rattling and pretend to throw my pillow at him.
My Pandora changes songs to I’ve Got the Magic in Me and I quickly skip the track.
“I thought you liked that song,” Dad says from the doorway. He’s wearing his Saturday shirt that says SL,UT from when we went skiing in Utah last year. I tried to explain to him that the shirt is a joke. That is says “Slut” but he’s determined to believe that the Mormons wouldn’t sell something like that. It just stands for Salt Lake, Utah. I’ve exhausted the argument, so I don’t say anything about his wardrobe.
“Can we talk for a minute?” he asks.
I pat a spot on the bed, and he shuffles into the room. His nose crinkles at my messy floor.
“You really need to clean your room, bug.”
“I know where all my stuff is,” I counter.
He shakes his head, sits on the edge of the twin and looks at the empty cage. “I’m sorry about Mr. Pippi.”
I nod, staring at the cage as well. I really should throw it out, or sell it, or something.
He sucks in a large breath, and I flick my eyes to him gazing at his interlocked fingers in his lap. “And I’m sorry for my part in it.”
“Your part?”
“Nate was only trying to cheer you up because your mother and I were fighting.”
“Again,” I say, and then snap my lips shut. Dad just nods.
“Yes, again. And she wouldn’t have even been here if I’d just handled—” He stops, flushes as red as a fire truck and slides so far on the edge of the bed I’m worried he might fall off. “I should’ve handled it better,” he finishes, eyeing the mattress.
“You mean walking in on me and my boyfriend?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, running his hand over his graying hair. “I’ve considered myself lucky. Raising a teenage daughter on my own has been drama-free so far. You’ve kept to yourself, eaten dinner with me every night, come home with excellent grades…” He pauses looking at my overflowing laundry basket. “The only thing I berate you about is the state of your room.”
“You do?” I tease, and he laughs. Then he shakes his head at the floor.
“When this boy came into the picture, I wasn’t prepared. I’d noticed a change in you. And I didn’t realize how unhappy you were until I saw you extremely happy.”
I bite my lip, turn to the cage, and focus on the blue and yellow wheel. I don’t think I was ever unhappy, I just didn’t know what I was missing. Not a boyfriend exactly… but friends. “It wasn’t just him.”
“The other two I met as well?”
I pick at the door on the cage, throat clogging up at how lonely I was—how lonely I’ve let myself become again.
“I didn’t have any friends, Dad.” My voice catches, and I swallow hard, keeping my tears away.
“I know.” His voice catches too. I turn to look at him. “I don’t understand why, but I know.”
I lift a shoulder, bumping a braid into my cheek. “It’s hard for me. I’m outgoing and loud so people think I have an easy time making friends. But really, I’ve been so afraid to ask the preschool questions, ‘Can I hang out with you guys?’ ‘Can I sit with you?’ ‘Anyone want to come to my house to watch a movie?’ I’m totally upbeat, but too shy to see what people really think about me. I’m a walking oxymoron.”
“Did you get the courage to ask, then?”
“Not really. Nate asked me. See, I’m approachable, I think. I’m friendly with everyone, but I don’t fit anywhere. I’m the puzzle piece that was stuck inside the wrong box, and I hopped out desperately trying to find the box I belong to. With Lexie and Ryan and… and Nate, I finally feel like I fit.”
“Do you want them to be your friends even if Nate isn’t your”—he takes a deep breath—“your boyfriend?”
I stifle a giggle, feeling the awkwardness roll off his tongue with the word.
“Yeah. I’m just not sure if they will. I think I ruined it. First time I get friends and I totally overreacted and made a complete idiot of myself. And I don’t even know what to say to him to make it better.”
Dad pats the spot next to him, and I slide on the bed and cuddle into his side. He plays with one of my braids and squeezes me tight.
“You get that uncertainty from me,” he says, voice gruff. “But once you find the people you fit with, talking comes easier.”
I smile. “Like Mr. Pippi.”
“And me. You always have me.”
My heart thumps heavy, and I squeeze him back.
“I know.”
Chapter 18
Kaylee looks so damn beautiful today. She is in her typical braids, a pair of jeans and a cute t-shirt with a monkey on it, and even though it is pretty much the same look s
he has every day, today is different. Maybe it’s because we haven’t talked, and any chance I get to look at her is a blessing. Or maybe it’s because I miss the feel of her lips on mine, the way our hands fit perfectly together and how she should be in my arms instead of dodging me in the halls.
Whatever it is, I can’t stop staring. Though every time I try to find the guts to go to her, I turn the other way like the biggest freaking coward around.
“Dude,” Ryan says, and I snap my eyes away from my fedora and place it back on my head.
“Huh?”
“You okay?” he asks as he pulls his head out from under the hood of the Lincoln.
“Sure. I’m good.”
“Good. Can you hand me the wrench then?” He points to the toolbox to my left.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” I grab the wrench and hand it to him. I may not know how to fix an engine or whatever he’s tuning up under there, but I’m usually a darn good tool getter. I’m just distracted today.
There was one moment in gym when I glanced across the field and our eyes caught for the briefest of seconds. Even a field apart I could see the beautiful green depths and the way her teeth slid over her perfect bottom lip.
“Dude.”
She isn’t her usual perky self though, and I know she lost her best friend, but part of me wishes some of that sadness has to do with me. It’s probably selfish to think that—hell I know it is—I just miss her so much, and the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely is believing she misses me, too.
“Dude.”
I won’t know unless I suck it up and talk to her. Be a man. Nick told me to just let her go. He may be my brother, but when it comes to girls, he’s an asshole. He’s never had what Kaylee and I had. Have.
“Okay, what the hell?” Ryan tosses the wrench into the tool box and leans against the grill of the Lincoln.
