“Sorry, Sash.” She slipped her arms into her coat. “Thanks to you, this essay is going to take me forever.”
“Good luck,” I called as she headed down the cereal aisle to the door. I’d handed in my essay early, so I had plenty of time to work on the flyer. But I wanted the flyer to be perfect. The more tickets we sold, the more money we raised for the Senior Center.
I opened up my computer and stared at the blank page.
When my phone pinged, I picked it up. It was a text from Kevin, asking me what time acro was. Why was Kevin texting me about that? There was a special acro dance workshop that afternoon at JayJay’s with a big-time dancer from New York City, but Kevin knew I wasn’t going. The workshop cost seventy-five dollars … so even if I was into acro, it would’ve been too expensive.
Me: idk
Kevin: Huh?
Me: I’m not going. Remember?
Kevin: Sorry. Texident!
Texident—Kevin claimed he made up the word. I’m sure he didn’t, but considering how many times he’d sent me a text thinking I was Karly, he should have. I wondered who he thought he was texting. It definitely wasn’t Karly. It must’ve been someone in his acro dance class. I sent him a smiley face emoji and put down my phone.
I started on the flyer, but nothing I did looked good. All the clip art seemed too basic and the fonts I chose just seemed wrong. After about twenty minutes when I’d deleted the same three lines about five times, I took a break and headed to the bathroom.
On the way back to the table, I passed Pete posting a flyer on the Market’s Community Bulletin Board.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.” A thumbtack dropped out of his hand.
I picked it up and pushed the tack into the corner of the colorful flyer Pete was hanging.
“Thanks.”
“Downtown D’Lights,” I read the words off the flyer. “I forgot that was coming up.” D’Lights was an annual event organized by the Main Street store owners to promote downtown holiday shopping. It was a night when shops stayed open late, giving away candy and door prizes, and there were a bunch of free activities. The downtown businesses went all out with decorations, especially with light displays.
“Yeah. It’s this Saturday. We’re setting up a hot chocolate stand by the ice skating rink,” Pete said. “It’ll be between the tree and the menorah.”
“Nice,” I said, staring at the flyer, which looked like it had been hand-drawn. “That’s really artistic.” I pointed to the lettering. Holiday lights were drawn to look like they were hanging off each word.
“You think?”
I nodded. “I wish I could come up with something like that for the Holidaze Spectacular.” I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flyer.
“What are you doing?” Pete asked.
“Posting it to Instagram,” I said as I headed back to the table.
Within seconds, I had twenty likes and a string of comments. The first one was from Kevin: Be there.
Did that mean something? I opened up my Google doc and read the final two clues.
He compliments you.
He tries to impress you.
“Did you finish your social studies essay?” Pete’s voice startled me. I looked up. He was sitting at the table next to mine, drawing on a piece of butcher-block paper spread in front of him.
“Yeah.”
“Me too.” He set down his pen. “What’re you working on now?”
“Uh …” I closed the Google doc and opened up the blank document. “The Holidaze Spectacular flyer. I told Ms. Kumar I’d have something by tomorrow, but I’m having trouble coming up with ideas.”
“You want help?”
“Sure!” As Pete walked toward me, I smiled, noticing the toes of his sneakers were again covered in what looked like powdered sugar.
Pete sat down next to me. “Let’s see what you have so far.”
I pointed to the computer.
“Well.” He looked at the blank screen. “You’ve got to start somewhere. I’ve got an idea.” He went over and grabbed his pen and a section of the butcher-block paper, and started sketching a stage with curtains. “We could put the wording here.” He pointed to space between the curtains. “Add a string of lights. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a really good artist.” I was impressed—who knew Pete was so talented? I glanced back over at the Community Bulletin Board. “You did the flyer for Dowtown D’Lights, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Pete smiled.
Just then my stomach felt funny—fluttery, kind of queasy. But I ignored it and focused on the flyer. Mostly I tossed out ideas and Pete drew them, showing me what they would look like. Before I knew it, Mom called to tell me it was time for dinner.
“I’ll work on it some more, “Pete said. “Then I’ll bring it to the meeting tomorrow. Okay?”
“That would be amazing.” I stood up.
Smiling wide, Pete stood up too. “Good.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little dizzy. I hoped I wasn’t coming down with something. I definitely didn’t have time to get sick. I had way too much to do.
Outside Sugarman’s, I popped in my earbuds and put “Winter Dreams” on repeat. With the fresh air on my face, I sang and danced all the way home, feeling great.
Chapter Nine
THE HAT
I arrived at school early on Monday morning to set up for the mitten and hat drive. First, I hung up the poster I’d made for it. (I probably could’ve used Pete’s artistic skills, but it was fine. Actually, my red and white bubble letters looked pretty good.) Then I started to set up the artificial tree—Mr. Thomas had left the box in the hall for me. As I pulled out the top section of branches, a gust of cold air hit my back.
“You need help?” It was Ryan. Before I could answer, he dropped his backpack next to mine.
“Thanks,” I said as we lifted it up together and secured it into place. The tree was very pink. Very neon.
“What’s it for?” Ryan stood back, taking off his hat and stuffing it in his pocket.
I pointed to my poster on the wall. “You want to donate?” More kids entered the school, more blasts of cold air.
“Sure.” Ryan picked up his backpack. “And you should talk to the Knitting Club—maybe they could make stuff.”
“That’s a good idea!”
“Nice tree!” Kevin stood behind us, unzipping his coat.
“What’s up?” Ryan fist bumped Kevin.
I straightened a bent branch and then stepped back; the bare tree looked a little sad. “I hope we can fill it.”
“You’ve got this, Sash.” Kevin smiled. “Think about what you did with the food drive. You’re good at this.”
I stepped forward to fix another branch. Had Kevin just complimented me? Uh … yes!
“Kev?” I wanted to ask him about his social studies essay (and make sure he’d finished it), but when I turned back, Kevin and Ryan were already gone—halfway down the hallway. “Wait up!” I called, swinging my backpack onto my shoulder. As I ran to catch up, I was thinking about the crush checklist.
He compliments you. Check. Only one clue left and then I would know if Kevin liked me for sure.
“We need to step up the publicity.” Ms. Kumar stood in front of her desk at our Monday lunch meeting for the Holidaze Spectacular. “The town paper has been running a Save the Date ad for a few weeks, but now’s the time to promote on social media. Pete and Sasha made an excellent flyer.”
“It was really Pete,” I said as Kevin patted my shoulder and whispered, “Great job.” Then he picked up his sandwich and took a big bite.
Ms. Kumar continued, “Sasha and Pete, you’ll be in charge of making copies.” She nodded at us. “But the rest of you will need to help distribute them.”
“I’ll help,” Kevin mumbled, his mouth full of food.
“I have good news,” Ms. Kumar said. “The auditorium is available for you all to practice during lunch this week and next.” She lifted up
a clipboard. “Sign-ups will be here.” She put the clipboard on her desk. A couple of kids in the front row lurched forward to sign up right then, but Ms. Kumar told them they needed to wait until she finished.
I slumped in my seat. There was no point to Kevin and me signing up, not with Karly at Quiz Bowl practice every day at lunch. It burned me that all the other acts were going to have the advantage of practicing on the stage while we wouldn’t have the chance until the dress rehearsal. Thank you, Karly.
Then Ms. Kumar led us to the auditorium. Someone from the school yearbook was meeting us there to take a photograph. In the hall, I walked next to Kevin, but he was laughing with Ryan about something that happened at the acro dance workshop the day before, so it was hard to get his attention.
“Are you okay with the flyer?” Pete walked on the other side of me. “I made a few changes.”
“It looks great!” I said. It really did. “Hey, I had another idea for publicity. I was thinking of making a short video, like a commercial. We could put it online. Ms. Kumar said it was a good idea. Want to help?”
“Sure,” Pete said.
“Okay, cool.” My stomach felt jittery. I knew I shouldn’t have had that soda.
Once inside the auditorium, we all posed while the photographer snapped a few shots. I sat in the front with my legs hanging over the edge of the stage.
“Awesome!” Kevin said from behind me. Turning around, I saw him pop a shiny black top hat on his head.
Where did he get that? It was ridiculous looking—too big, too shiny, too much like something a middle-aged magician would wear at a little kid’s birthday party.
When Ms. Kumar dismissed us, I stood up and walked over to Kevin, pointing at the hat.
“Awesome, huh?” He tugged on the brim. “It’ll look great with the morph suit.”
“Uh, no.”
“No? What do you mean—no?”
“You’re not wearing that for our performance.”
“Come on, Sash.” He turned his head from side to side, posing. “You love it, right?”
“Definitely not. Where’d you get it?”
Kevin glanced over at Ryan, who had just jumped off the stage. “Hey, Ryan!”
Ryan swiveled back around.
“Thanks!” Kevin called, tapping the top of the hat.
“I know why he gave it to you,” I said as I watched Ryan leave the auditorium. “He wants to win. The judge from the Summer Academy won’t take us seriously if you wear that ridiculous hat. She’ll be so distracted by it, she won’t even see our performance.”
“I think it’s just what we need.” Kevin ran his hand along the brim. “It’s classic.”
“Classic? Remember our theme? Candy canes?”
“We could add a few of the appliqués.” He touched the sides.
“To the hat?” I pulled it off his head. “Never,” I said, hiding it behind my back. Kevin lurched forward, trying to grab it back.
We were both laughing hard, but there was no way I was going to let him wear that hat. When the drama teacher walked in, Kevin stopped. Then, with the hat in my hand, I jumped off the stage.
“See ya!” I called, waving the top hat as I ran out of the auditorium.
After ballet class at JayJay’s, Karly and I sat on the bench outside the studio. We were waiting for Kevin to finish his class.
“You know, everyone else in the show is getting stage time to rehearse during lunch.” I lifted up my water bottle and took a sip.
“I know.” Karly stared into the ballet studio in front of us where a class of tutu-wearing preschoolers wobbled as they pliéed. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? That’s all you can say?”
“Sash, I know it sucks, but I really care about Quiz Bowl. And the tournament is in eleven days.”
“You’ve told me.”
Karly nodded, but she didn’t say anything.
“Did you see the hat Kevin wants to wear for our routine?” I took another drink of water.
“Yeah.” Karly untied the ribbons on her pointe shoes. Stretching out her legs, she flexed her feet. “I take it the hat is not Sasha-approved.”
“Definitely not. But don’t worry. I’m keeping it away from him until after the show.”
“I kind of liked it!”
“What? Are you kidding me?” I grabbed my sweatshirt from my bag.
“I don’t know. I thought it was … fresh.”
“Seriously?” I put on my sweatshirt. “Fresh?”
“Fresh?” Kevin approached. “You two want to see something fresh?”
“Sure.” Karly rolled her eyes as she stood up.
Kevin looked directly at me. “Get ready to be impressed.”
I smiled as Karly and I followed Kevin into the acro dance studio.
“Hey,” Ryan waved, his back to us. He faced the mirror.
“You ready?” Kevin asked; Ryan nodded.
Karly and I watched as the two of them did a bunch of stunts. They finished with coordinated front walkovers.
Karly and I clapped as they bowed.
“Impressive,” I said.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Kevin winked, then made a goofy face.
Ryan said something about the acro workshop they went to the day before, but I wasn’t listening, I was thinking how Kevin had wanted to impress me.
He tries to impress you. Check.
YES!
It was true—one hundred percent certain: Kevin liked me. I felt then like I did when I aced a test or when I saw my name listed on the High Honor Roll. I had set a goal, and I had achieved it.
“Ms. Jackson said studio four is available. We can practice our routine there.” Karly tilted her head toward the door. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can study.”
“You’re killin’ me with all this Quiz Bowl prep.” Kevin reached down for his dance bag where one of Karly’s sticky notes was stuck to the side. He pulled it off and stuck it to his forehead. “Maybe if you attach them directly to your brain, you won’t have to study.”
Karly snatched the sticky note off his head. “Come on.” She tugged my arm as I stifled a laugh.
“I’ll be right there,” Kevin said as Karly and I left the studio.
As we walked, she looked down and I knew she was reading the sticky note.
“What’s the question?” I asked.
“Where’s the Daniel Boone National Forest?” She crumpled the sticky note and threw it into the nearby trash can.
“Eastern Kentucky,” we both said at the exact same time.
“Sasha?” Karly raised her eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to join the team?”
“I’m sure.” I headed over to the water fountain.
“You know … it’s been fun hanging out with Ahmed,” Karly said as I bent over to refill my water bottle. “I really like him. I mean, whenever I’m near him, my knees even feel all weak and wobbly!”
“Really?” My knees had never felt anything when I stood next to Kevin. I tightened the cap on my water bottle. “Is that even a thing? I mean, it sounds so Hollywood.”
“Of course it’s a thing. Anyway, I think he feels the same way, but I’m not totally sure.”
I didn’t say anything. I was thinking about how it was nice to know Kevin liked me (for sure). Would we become a couple (whatever that meant) soon? I was determined to make Sash-evin a thing. No, maybe not Sashevin … Kev-asha. Yes. I liked the sound of that.
I just needed to figure out how.
Chapter Ten
THE NEXT STEP
“He likes me,” I said to Claire on the phone in my room with the door closed. (I did not need Mom in on this conversation.) “I’m sure of it!” With my free hand, I pulled the top hat—the one Ryan had given to Kevin—out of my dance bag where I’d stashed it.
“Did he tell you he likes you?” Claire sounded rushed, but it was Monday night, and I knew she wouldn’t be headed to a party.
I tossed the hat into the air and caught
it. “No, not exactly, but he does all the things a boy does when he likes you.”
“Well, that’s great.” Claire said. “Who’s your crush again?”
“Kevin.” I dropped the hat onto the top of my bookshelf. “I told you that. Like twice.”
“Oh. Kevin?” She paused. “Really?”
“Yes. Kevin. Really.” I glanced down at my computer where I’d saved a photo of the High School for Performing Arts building as my screen saver. “So what do I do now? Do I tell him?”
“Sash, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. Elena and I are headed to the dining hall.”
“Now? But it’s nine o’clock at night?”
“There, it’s nine. Here, it’s six o’clock. And I need to eat dinner.”
Fine.
Without Claire’s help, I did the next best thing. I Googled: “How do I tell a boy I like him?” Then I started scrolling through some of the sites. The advice was all pretty basic—tell him in person, get someone else to tell him for you, text him, or give him a note.
I wasn’t going to get one of our friends to tell him. That seemed too embarrassing. Texting felt weird, and a note seemed totally awkward.
I imagined standing in front of Kevin and telling him. The website said to make eye contact, touch his arm, smile, and don’t rush. I felt ridiculous just thinking about it. No—that wasn’t going to work. I kept searching, trying to find something that seemed like a good idea. And then … bam. There it was!
Invite him to do something with you. I found it in an article called “What to Do When You’re Afraid to Tell Someone You Like Them.”
I could do that. But what should I ask him to do?
Before I said good night to my phone (Mom made me keep it on the kitchen counter when I went to bed), I scrolled through Instagram, tapping on a bunch of photos, including ones of Kevin and Ryan doing acro tricks. There was one photo I stared at for a long time but I didn’t heart it. It was of Karly and Ahmed sitting together at Sugarman’s. When was that taken? Were they on some sort of date? Finally, I scrolled past it. My last post was the picture of the Downtown D’Lights flyer. Over two hundred people liked it. I reread Kevin’s comment: Be there.
That was when I decided my next step. I’d ask Kevin to go with me to D’Lights Night. It wasn’t the kind of thing you needed a date for at all—older kids hung out in groups and younger kids went with their families (before the divorce, we’d always gone as a family). But I thought about the twinkling lights and the smell of hot cocoa, and it seemed perfect. Perfectly romantic. I typed a text to Kevin: U want 2 go 2 D’Lights Night? When I reread the words, I knew something was missing. So I added: with me.
Peppermint Cocoa Crushes Page 6
