Chapter Twelve:
UH OH!
It’s Saturday morning, I have my phone back, and I just got a text from Jacob! My heart drums happily. It’s rainy outside, dreary and still sort of dark, but I don’t care.
I quickly text him back, glancing toward the front door. I’m parked on the couch in the living room, on the lookout for Jana. We’re planning on riding bikes to the mall soon. Morty sits on the couch next to me, and I’m rubbing his belly.
Jacob is texting about this song, “Lemon Ginger Afternoon,” by this group called the Ramon Project. You’ve got to listen to it. It will blow your mind. Seriously. It’s heavy metal mixed with hip-hop. But then there’s some classical. And random sounds. Like a lawn mower and a baby crying.
I go to the link he sends. The song is like nothing I’ve ever heard. (Usually I just listen to pop music.) Just when it gets to be really out-of-control guitar/screaming/heavy-metal sounding, it morphs into what sounds like a violin concerto, and then it goes all hip-hop.
It’s really wild, I text Jacob. In a good way. You can’t even say what it is.
Exactly. You can’t just lump it into some category.
Like people.
Yup
Altho right now I’m pretty much a professional dog scratcher, I write. I look up. Jana should be showing up at any moment.
When the front door opens, I’ll stuff my phone under a cushion and leap into the kitchen so Jana won’t see that I’ve been texting Jacob. My stomach tightens. I should stop texting him, but I don’t want to.
Another ping. I glance down. Jacob has texted, Does 1:00 tomorrow at the library work?
Perfect, I text back.
Also it’s my birthday tomorrow.
I can’t text back, “I knew that,” since it would seem like I’m trying to memorize his life. But I’m excited that he wants to see me on his actual birthday! Instead I text, Is going to the library your birthday present? ha ha.
My grandparents took me out to dinner last night. And I’m having friends spend the night tonight. So I’m gonna milk this birthday thing all weekend.
Birthday week? I text back.
Birthday month! he writes.
I smile and send back the birthday cake emoji.
Since Jana will be here any second, I quickly put my cell on vibrate.
Footsteps thud from the hallway. Morty starts barking. Jana’s here!
I toss the phone into the sofa pillows, and I bolt up to race toward the kitchen and away from my phone.
But I don’t make it there. I’m standing a few feet from the couch, and I freeze as Jana charges into the living room with bright red cheeks. She looks angry. I swallow hard. Morty barks.
“So you know?” I say.
Yeah, it’s definitely too late for secrets now.
“Yeah, and I can’t believe it,” says Jana, her hands on her hips. “Fiona told me.”
Fiona, his cousin. Of course, Jacob told her that we were meeting at the library.
“I’m sorry. Jana, I’m so sorry, seriously.”
“What do you mean? It’s not your fault,” she says.
“I know it’s not my fault. It just happened,” I say, my heart pounding. “It’s just about taste, I guess.”
“Taste? What are you talking about?” Jana scrunches her forehead in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” I say, gulping.
She pulls out a sheet of paper out of her purse. “For the PTA Haunted House. We’re not on the same schedule. At all. Even though I signed up to work with you! I’ll be working with Fiona instead. I don’t know how it happened.”
“Oh, that. Yeah. That’s okay—it’s just one day.” I can feel relief washing over me.
Jana squints her eyes. “Wait a minute. What were you talking about? You weren’t talking about schedules. You said ‘it just happened,’ and something about taste.”
“Oh, I … I was just talking about how nobody can figure out why somebody like Fiona would have a cousin with as much good taste as Jacob.”
Jana looks at me strangely. “Okay, whatever.” She wipes her forehead as if it’s hot in the room. “You have such a serious look on your face.”
“It’s the debate. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
Morty starts barking at a squirrel outside until I shush him.
Uh oh. My phone peeks out from under the sofa cushion.
I reach back with my fingertips to poke it further back. I pray that the pillow doesn’t flop backwards, exposing my phone with Jacob’s text probably on the screen.
The pillow stays in place. Justice reigns in the universe.
“Ready to do some shopping?” asks Jana. “Afterward, we can get ready for our soccer game together.”
“Yes,” I say, “most definitely.”
Chapter Thirteen:
SHOP ’TIL WE DROP
At the mall, Jana and I stand in front of the cologne hut. Jana sprays a tester bottle, and the air smells like lemons and watermelon. The mall is packed, since it’s rainy today.
“We’re going to spray Jacob’s locker with cologne?” I ask.
Jana giggles. “Well, it is a very manly scent.”
I plug my nose. “Please, no. Eww.”
She grabs something called Watermelon Water, and I laugh. “Well, if Jacob likes watermelons a lot, then it’s perfect!”
The saleswoman notices us, and her smile becomes taut. She sticks her hands into her apron pocket. “How can I help you girls today?” she asks, her voice polite but tinged with an edge.
“Um, my friend is looking for something for her … friend … who is a boy,” I say.
Jana elbows me and turns red.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy leaning against the counter. He looks like Jacob. The same reddish-brown hair. My insides flip-flop. Oh no. The guy turns around, and he’s got zits all over his face and a weird mustache.
So not Jacob. Phew.
“Well,” says the saleswoman. “Let me know if you have any questions.” She turns to help a middle-aged woman wearing a raincoat that looks like a trench coat from a spy novel.
Jana is spritzing and pumping all of the bottles on the counter. Soon we’ll both smell like every scent combined into one. “We should go,” I say. “We don’t have a ton of time before we have to get ready for soccer.”
“There are still some scents to try!” Jana says. “But okay, fine. I’ll go.” She grabs a couple of free samples and zips them into the pocket of my backpack.
We thread around packs of people holding various shopping bags and head toward the arts and crafts store. I pop in my earbuds and listen to “Lemon Ginger Afternoon” and just start grinning.
Meanwhile, Jana is ticking off a list on her fingers. She taps me on the shoulder. “You’re not listening.”
“Sorry,” I say. “This song’s just so freaking awesome.” I hand Jana my headphones and she listens, wrinkling her face in distaste. She yanks off the buds and hands them back. “Since when do you listen to heavy metal?” I can tell she’s shocked. Jana is a total pop music girl.
“It’s not really heavy metal,” I protest.
Jana shakes her head. “Well, no thank you.”
“It’s also classical and hip-hop and—”
“I believe you. Where did you even find that song, anyway?”
My heart speeds up. “I, um … I came across it on Spotify.”
Jana shrugs. “Whatever. Anyway, we better get onto shopping essentials. This is what we need to decorate Jacob’s locker for his birthday: wrapping paper, ribbons, balloons, candy, sticky notes, and happy birthday banner.”
“That all sounds good,” I say as we maneuver around a new electric car on display in the center court. It’s part of some mall giveaway, and there’s actually a small line to buy raffle tickets.
When we get to the arts and crafts store, we go straight to the wrapping paper area. Jana picks out some red paper, but I suggest we get blue instead, since Jacob is
always wearing blue shirts. It’s probably his favorite color. It matches his amazing eyes too—but I don’t say that part aloud.
Next, Jana starts to grab a happy birthday banner, but I shake my head. “The foam letters will look better,” I say. “That way, we can spell out his name.” Then I grab a bunch of foam sticker soccer balls. “Jacob will love these.”
“Brilliant idea,” says Jana, looping her arm through mine.
After we purchase everything, we head to the candy store to pick up some treats—mini Snickers—to tape to the front of his locker. On our way, we pass by a jewelry store, and Jana slows down. She’s staring at a necklace that’s made of beads that look like little soccer balls. I make a note to come back later and check it out. I have a feeling it would be the perfect birthday present for Jana.
After the candy store, we go to a beauty discount place to pick out nail polish, cotton balls, and nail polish remover for Jana’s slumber party.
“We should play spin the bottle,” I say as we walk down the aisle to the nail polish section.
Jana’s eyes widen in surprise. “Are you kidding? My mom would kill me.”
“It’s not what you think. I’m talking about a game I read about online—it’s a nail polish game. You have a spinner and then whatever color you land on, you have to paint your nails that color. The game’s over when everyone’s nails are painted.”
“Oh, I love it! Let’s do it,” says Jana. “But where do we get the spinner?”
“We can just use the spinner from my old Hi Ho! Cherry-O game,” I say. “I’ll cover over the game box.”
Jana hugs me. “Oh, you are so crafty and artsy. Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun.”
We spend the next fifteen minutes debating colors, then pay for everything and decide to go to the food court for a snack. When Jana says she has to go to the bathroom, I tell her to meet me in front of our favorite ice cream place because I forgot that I needed to pick up a roll of Scotch tape for my mom.
This is such a lie. Instead, I race to the jewelry store and buy the soccer ball necklace, because it really is absolutely perfect for Jana. It’s a little expensive, but my Nana down in Virginia gave me a ton of birthday money this summer (my birthday is July twenty-second), and I hadn’t spent a lot of it. I spot this adorable heart key chain on sale, and I buy it too. Then I rush back to meet Jana at the ice cream place.
I’m hurrying past the south entrance when I pass a bunch of guys eating soft pretzels. Then I realize they aren’t just any bunch of guys. It’s Jacob with a group of his friends. Some I recognize. Some I don’t.
Do they see me? I hope not!
I can feel my ears turn pink as I hunker down into my hoodie.
“Hey, is that Maddie?” I can hear Jacob say.
“That definitely is,” yells Lukas.
“Hi,” I say, stopping. I really don’t have a choice.
“Hey, Maddie,” says Jacob. “Want some pretzels?” He holds up a bag. “We have lots.”
They smell good, but I really don’t have time. I look both ways for Jana. “Um, that’s okay.”
“Do you have a soccer game this afternoon?” he asks, while his friends huddle, looking at something on one of their phones.
“Yup,” I say.
“Me too.” Jacob looks back at his friends. They’re still huddling, but they keep on looking over at us. I’m not quite sure what they’re expecting to happen.
“Maybe I’ll see you,” I say lamely.
“Yeah. That’d be cool.”
“Well, I’ve got to meet a friend. So I better go.” I wave goodbye.
“All right, ’bye. See you later,” calls out Jacob.
As I start to walk away, his friends nudge him with their elbows.
I can feel myself blushing. They obviously know he’s meeting me at the library tomorrow afternoon, on his actual birthday.
A minute later, I’m startled when Jana is right in front of me. “Was that Jacob?” she asks. “I thought I saw him and his friends talking to you.”
“Um, yeah.” Oops.
“Why didn’t you text me to come?” Her eyes look murderous.
“There wasn’t time. Anyway, look at the bags you’re carrying!” I point to her see-through bags from the arts and crafts store. “Full of decorations for Jacob’s locker. It would ruin the surprise.”
“You’re right,” says Jana. She sighs. “What would I do without you?”
I smile, but my heart sinks because I had to tell another lie. My fingers clamp tightly onto the bag with Jana’s birthday presents inside. I did what I had to, I tell myself.
Chapter Fourteen:
GAME ON
A few hours later, I’m squeezing in for the group hug. Our soccer team just won a game against a really strong squad from Worcester. Luckily, the rain from this morning cleared up—the sky is pure blue, and it’s a perfect September Saturday.
“Go, Cheetahs!” we shout, our arms linked around each other.
Coach Willmert claps her hands. “Okay, Cheetahs! You played tough out there. Let’s keep it up. Remember to keep on hydrating and to rest up this weekend. See you at practice on Tuesday. Oh, and I’ll be sending you a message about the tournament coming up in October.” She grabs her clipboard, where she keeps all of our stats. “Just remember to keep communicating with each other on the field. There were some missed opportunities. We won and I’m proud of that, but I think there were moments where you weren’t connecting. Just keep talking. It’s vital.”
We break apart and everyone heads over to the line, where parents are folding up their camping chairs. Somewhere a lawnmower roars in the distance.
Jana wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. “I’m dead,” she says, picking up a water bottle. She chugs what is left, which isn’t a lot.
“You should be,” I say. “You were so awesome.”
Everyone’s busy packing up their soccer bags. Girls from our team pass by, high-fiving Jana.
“Five goals!” shouts Brianna Walton, jogging backwards. “You’re amazing.”
“It’s true,” I gush.
“Thanks,” says Jana, her face lit up with a smile.
“They tried to shut you down, but they couldn’t,” I say as we head toward Jana’s parents, who are putting away the team’s portable shade structure. Mrs. Patel is the team manager.
“That was a great game,” Jana says, stuffing her water bottle into her soccer backpack. “You were good, too, Maddie.”
“Thanks,” I say, but I know it’s not exactly true. I only played at the end of each half for about six minutes, when it was clear that we were up by a strong lead. “I didn’t let the other team score or anything.”
“Nope, you held steady.” Jana blocks a soccer ball zooming over from someone practicing on the field before it hits a grandpa packing up a chair.
Holding steady. It doesn’t sound very impressive. More like, Oh, congrats. You weren’t bad. You were mediocre and didn’t suck. But I know Jana means well. She’s always encouraging me.
My parents didn’t come to the game because Elvie’s chamber group had a concert. Mom and Dad never miss a concert. Anyway, there’s a ton of soccer games during the season. They’ll go to plenty of them. Plus, they only get to watch me play on the field for a dozen minutes anyway.
So this afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Patel will drive me home.
“That was a great game, girls,” says Mr. Patel, zipping up his windbreaker. “You didn’t relent.” He claps his hands together. “Ready to head home?”
Jana gazes past him to the field on the other side of ours. Her mouth suddenly drops open. “Dad, I’m not quite ready to leave.”
He looks around. Mrs. Patel stands engrossed in a conversation with another soccer mom. Gus, the Patels’ dog, sits next to her. “That makes two of you. Your mom hasn’t even noticed that another team is now on the field.” He glances at his phone. “How much more time do you need?”
Jana
shrugs. “Twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes? Are you going to get a new hairstyle? Paint your nails?”
“Dad, that’s so sexist.” Jana swings her backpack. “Really.” Her eyes glue onto the adjacent field. “A friend is playing and I want to support him.”
I look at Jana in confusion. “Who?” I ask. Jana nudges me with her elbow. Maybe Jana has a new crush. I start to feel hopeful.
“Yes, who? And a ‘him’? A boy?” Mr. Patel looks both amused and concerned.
“A friend, Dad. I’m sure you have stuff to do on your phone, right?” Mr. Patel works for an engineering firm. Jana is never quite sure what he does, but she says that there are a lot of buildings in downtown Boston that will weather any storm because of him.
“Fine,” Mr. Patel says. “Fifteen minutes. I’m sure your mom won’t notice.” He pauses. “So, Maddie—” Mr. Patel nods over at the adjacent field “—is this boy a friend of yours too?”
I peer at the field and try to figure out who Jana means. Then my eyes stop at the goal—and, specifically, who’s in the goal.
Jacob.
“Yes,” I say. “I know him. He’s a friend.” I emphasize the word friend.
“Okay, a friend of both of yours. Got it.” Mr. Patel unfolds his chair to sit down on it again. “Well, go for it. Cheer him on. But take some energy bars with you, please. You need some protein.” He pulls a couple of them out of a cooler. “They’re chocolate.”
“Thanks, Mr. Patel,” I say.
Jana gives him a thumbs-up, and she tears over to the sidelines of the other field. She starts immediately screaming and yelling for the Rattlers, Jacob’s team.
Not that they need any help. They’re completely dominating the field.
The other team, the Lightning Bolts, are in very orange uniforms and look like they are wearing themselves down on attacks against the Rattlers’ rock-solid back line. They charge down the field in a fury, but they can’t get anything in the goal. Jana and I both unwrap our PowerBars.
“What’s the score?” Jana asks a dad sitting in a chair next to his toddler, who’s playing with a truck.
Pumpkin Spice Secrets Page 8
