“Sash, later doesn’t work for me. If you don’t bring them now, you’re doing your own laundry this week.”
I dropped my dance bag. I hated the building’s laundry room; the less time I spent in the basement, the better.
“Fine.” I stomped back to get my laundry, shutting my door a little too hard.
“Sasha!” Mom yelled.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I moved around my room, stuffing dirty clothes into the laundry bag. I might’ve been on top of a lot of things in my life, but keeping my laundry situation under control wasn’t one of them.
“Here.” I dragged the overflowing bag into the living room.
Mom stood with her basket, eyeing my load. “Uh … you can carry that down yourself.”
“But I’m late!”
“Then hurry up.”
I followed her down the stairs to the basement, where the smell of perfumed detergent was not enough to cover up the stench of mildew.
“Here,” I said as I propped my bag against the one open washer.
“You know what I want for Christmas?” Mom said.
“What?”
“Our own washing machine.”
I wanted to say, We used to have one, back at our house—the house where I could dance in my room without a downstairs neighbor yelling at me, the house where we had a laundry room, and the only reason to go to the basement was to get Halloween decorations. But I stopped myself.
“Thanks, Mom, for doing my laundry.”
“Okay. Now, go get your project done.” She shooed me toward the stairs.
On my way over to Sugarman’s Market I texted Pete to see if he wanted to meet in the library instead. It would be quieter, I wrote, and Pete agreed. But the real reason I wanted to go to the library was so no one would see us if we worked in one of the study rooms on the second floor. The last thing I needed was for my friends to spot us together and make a big deal out of it.
If Kevin and I had a chance, I needed to put an end to the Petasha rumors.
“What’s up, Sasha?” Ryan stood near the circulation desk at the library.
My heart sank. Sometimes it felt like Ryan was everywhere I didn’t want him to be.
“Hi,” I said in my chilliest voice.
“You looking for Pete?”
I stared at him, bracing myself to be teased, but his tone of voice sounded normal, and he wasn’t wink-winking at me.
“Yeah.” I started to relax. Maybe he’d forgotten about Petasha. Maybe everyone had. I hoped.
“He’s on the second floor, near the study rooms.” Ryan raised his left eyebrow, and winked with his right eye.
Shoot! I knew it. The Petasha thing wasn’t going to be that easy to beat.
“So now you’re studying together?” he said as if it was a date. “Nice.”
“Shut up,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t? It looks pretty obvious to me.” He smirked, and made a smooching sound.
“Jerk,” I said as I headed up the stairs. On the second level, I searched the bookracks and the desks for anyone else I knew. All clear.
When I found Pete, I nodded to an open study room. “Let’s work in there.”
“Sure.” Pete stepped into the room. I glanced around the second floor, making sure no one had seen us.
“You okay?” Pete asked.
“I’m fine.” I closed the door and sat down at the table.
“It’s just, you left kind of quickly last night.” Pete sat down across from me and unzipped his backpack. “I wasn’t sure if you didn’t feel good or something, or if you were mad because my grandfather roped you into working.”
“What? No! I liked working with you—I mean, I liked being at the hot chocolate stand.” My words and thoughts were tripping me up. “I was glad I could help. It was just … other stuff.”
“Okay …?” Pete smiled, and I noticed what a nice smile it was. Not smirky or fake.
“Really—I had fun! It was actually the best part of my whole night.” As I said that, I realized that it was true. “Is it warm in here? My face feels hot.”
“A little, I guess. Do you want me to open the door?” Pete stood.
“No, no. I’m okay.” I didn’t want one of my friends to spot us and embarrass me.
“You sure?”
“Yup.”
“Let me show you what I have so far.” Pete sat down next to me, pulling his computer between us.
“Is that new?” I pointed to the computer. It really was warm in there; even my toes felt like they were sweating.
“Yeah,” Pete said shyly, as if he didn’t want to sound like he was bragging. “My grandfather gave it to me early.”
“It’s really nice.” I couldn’t stand the heat a second more; I stood up. “Sorry, it’s too hot.” I opened the door a crack, and then sat back down.
Pete started showing me the photos and video clips he’d taken. They were all really good. He had a way of making everything—even me cutting out a snowflake—look artistic. I pulled out my phone and showed him what I had.
“That’s a great shot,” he said, pointing to a photo of Kevin leaping across the stage. Then we talked about which images would be the best to use and in what order. Once we made those decisions, Pete started to put it together.
“What are you thinking about for the music?” he asked.
“How about that new Simin Kurji song? Have you heard it? It’s got a great beat.”
“I love that song.” Pete pulled it up on his phone and soon the two of us were bobbing our heads and humming. “It’s perfect.”
A knock on the door startled us. Pete turned off the music as I whirled around guiltily, expecting to see a librarian asking us to keep it down. But it wasn’t a librarian. It was Anna, peeking her head into the room.
“Hi guys!” She stepped inside. “What are you two working on?” Her wide smile made me worried about what was going to come out of her mouth next.
“A promo video for the show,” Pete said.
“Nothing,” I said at the exact same time.
“You two are so cute.” She lifted up her phone. “Let me take your photo.”
“Please don’t—” But I wasn’t fast enough. Anna had already taken the picture.
“This is a great one, don’t you think?” She tilted her phone toward Pete, who was blushing.
“Sure,” he said, sounding like he didn’t know what to say.
I stood up. “I’m late for rehearsal,” I said. I wasn’t, but I needed to leave before things got any more embarrassing. “I gotta go.”
“After my game, I’ll email you the link.” Pete stood up too. “So you can take a look at what we have so far.”
“Thanks.” I headed toward the door, my coat hanging half off me, my bag unzipped.
“Cute one,” Anna was still looking down at her phone as I passed by her. “I’m definitely adding that to my story.”
“Story?” Pete said. “What story?”
I turned around to face Anna. “Do not add that to your Snapchat story.” I glared at Anna. “Understand?”
“I understand perfectly.” She winked at me and mouthed Petasha.
Ugh! I stomped out of the room and down the main stairs of the library. Once Kevin saw that photo, how was I ever going to get Kevasha back on track?
“Sasha, I’m sorry we missed you at the ice skating rink last night,” Mr. Hall said as I hung my coat in the closet. “You should’ve seen us. Mrs. Hall and I put on quite a show.” He lifted his foot an inch off the ground and twirled.
“Honey,” Mrs. Hall said, putting her arm around his shoulder. “I don’t think Sasha’s idea of entertainment includes you disco dancing on the ice.”
I laughed and headed to the basement.
Karly was waiting for me at the bottom step. One look at her face told me something was wrong.
“You okay?” I glanced around the studio, trying to find Kevin, but he wasn’t there. “W
here’s Kev?”
“He’s coming.” Karly sat down on the bottom step. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Yeah?” I sat next to her. “What’s up?” My mind raced through the possible reasons why Karly looked so serious. Had Kevin confided in her? Maybe he’d told her he liked me and he was hurt because he thought I liked Pete? Or …
“Sash, I don’t want you to be mad.”
Mad? It was then I noticed that she was wearing jeans and not her dance shorts and cropped t-shirt.
“I can’t practice today.”
“But—”
“I can’t practice at all this week.”
I stood up. “Are you serious? We have less than two weeks to get ready.”
“I know, but things are getting really intense with Quiz Bowl. It’s in six days—”
“Karly, you made a commitment to us, to our routine. Remember we want to win the Holidaze Spectacular? This is our dream.”
Karly didn’t look at me. In her hands, she held a stack of Post-it notes (more Quiz Bowl questions). “The thing is, Sasha, I’m not sure I want to spend so much time on dance.”
“What are you talking about? Is this because your pointe shoes are too tight?”
“No. It’s just that I want to try other activities.” She looked up at me. “And I’ve been thinking I might want to apply to Tech Magnet for high school.”
“Tech Magnet?” What was Karly talking about? Tech Magnet was not a part of our dream.
“Yeah, Ahmed says they have a really cool maker space and a top robotics team.”
“Ahmed says?” Who cares what Ahmed says? “Do you even like robotics?”
“I think it sounds fun.”
“Fun?” Was she kidding?
“Yeah, it does. I’m going to join the school team. Ahmed said it’ll look good on my Tech Magnet application.”
“You know Tech Magnet doesn’t even have a dance program?”
“I know, Sash. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t care. I don’t want to spend so much time on dance. I want to do other things.”
“You’re quitting? This is your way of telling me you don’t want to be in the show anymore?”
“Sasha, I know how much you care about winning the scholarship, and I don’t want to mess it up for you, but maybe I could—”
“You’re out.” I pushed past her and ran up the stairs. I could barely see straight. “Tell Kevin I’ll rework the routine without you.”
“Sasha!” she called, but I didn’t turn back. As I opened the front door, I heard Kevin say, “Where’s she going?”
Stomping down the street, I wished I could rewind the last two weeks. I wished Karly had never been selected for the Quiz Bowl A Team. I wished Anna had never shipped Pete Sugarman and me. Then I would be in the Hall’s basement studio with Kevin and Karly practicing our routine, perfecting our grand jettes. I wished …
The wind whipped at my face. My eyes watered. My ears stung.
I wished I’d worn my hat.
Chapter Sixteen
A PERFECT PLAN
“Sasha, Karly didn’t do this to hurt you,” Mom said, using her soft voice. “She’s doing this because it’s the right thing for her.” Mom folded a washcloth and added it to the stack of towels on the dining room table. “She wants to spend more time on other interests.” Mom grabbed more clothes from the basket of clean laundry.
“Quitting after you’ve made a commitment to something is not okay,” I said.
“It happens.” Mom laid a t-shirt on the table. “Sometimes people make decisions that are the right thing for them, but feel like the wrong thing for you.” She brushed off a piece of lint. “People change. That’s life.”
I was pretty sure Mom wasn’t just talking about Karly then.
She went on. “And when that happens, you need to adjust and come up with a new plan. Like how after the divorce, I went back to school. And that’s why I’m working so hard, studying all the time—so I can get a good job.” She pointed to the piles of clean laundry on the table. “You know, so we can buy a washing machine.” She was trying to make a joke but I wasn’t ready to laugh. I was angry—angry at Karly, angry at my mom and dad, even angry at Claire (she chose to go to college in California over staying close to me)—angry at all of them for making decisions that were all about what they wanted and nothing about me.
“You need a plan B,” Mom said as I reached into the basket of clean clothes and pulled out my favorite jeans.
“Yeah.” I’d spent the afternoon working on Plan B: choreographing the routine without Karly’s part, rearranging the singing solos. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted the original plan, the one where Karly, Kevin, and I wowed the judge, won the Summer Academy scholarships and eventually danced our way into the High School for Performing Arts.
“You okay?” Mom asked.
“No.” I touched the soft fabric of my worn jeans. “I wish everyone would just stop changing.”
Mom smiled then, one of her annoying, all-knowing smiles. “But Sasha, you’re changing too.”
I folded the rest of my laundry in silence.
After dinner, Claire called. At first, I wondered if Mom had already talked to her about what happened with Karly, but when I told her, she sounded surprised.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You and Kevin will do great.”
“Thanks. Oh, and about Kevin—we went to Downtown D’Lights together. I mean, I thought it was a date, but the whole thing was a disaster. And now he thinks I like Pete.”
“Pete?”
“Mr. Sugarman’s grandson. He moved here this year. He’s in my math class. Anyway, I’m trying to figure out how to get things back on track with Kevin.”
“Sash, I think you should talk to Kevin, tell him how you feel.”
“But how?” I thought about the ideas I’d found on the Internet. “Should I text him?”
“No.”
“Write him a note?”
“No, Sash. You need to talk to Kevin. This isn’t just about how you feel. It’s about his feelings too.”
Talk to him? I talked to Kevin all the time—we joked around, we talked about dance and school—but this was different. This was hard. I couldn’t imagine telling him I liked him. I needed another plan—something cute, something clever, something that didn’t involve me standing in front of him baring my soul.
Before I parked my phone on the kitchen counter for the night, I scrolled through the texts Karly had sent me. I hadn’t responded to any of them, and I certainly wasn’t going to call her. She’d given up on our dream. She traded it in for Quiz Bowl and Ahmed and Tech Magnet. Worst of all, she’d traded me in too.
All morning at school, I dreaded lunch. Ms. Kumar had called a meeting. That meant Kevin, Ryan, Mira, and Anna would have plenty of opportunity to tease me about Petasha. I didn’t want Pete to catch on, and I really didn’t want the rumor to spread.
On the way to the meeting, I caught up with Anna and Mira.
“Where’s Pete?” Anna asked.
“About that.” I took a deep breath. “Can you stop with the whole Petasha thing?”
“What? Do you like Sashete better?”
“No. I don’t like any of it. I don’t like Pete.”
“I told you.” Mira stopped walking and faced Anna, then me. “I told her you didn’t like Pete.”
“You don’t? Really, Sash?” Anna said. “But he’s so cute, in a shy, sweet, new kid in town sort of way. And I knew you had a crush on someone, so I assumed …”
“You did make that Google doc,” Mira said. “It was so adorkable.”
“Great. I’m glad I entertain you.” I kept walking. “That’s what friends are for, right? Entertainment?”
“No, Sash. Of course not.” Anna caught up to me. “But who do you like?”
“Seriously? Do you honestly think I would tell you two?”
“I bet it’s Ryan.” Mira was on my other side.
“Good lu
ck with that,” Anna said as we walked into Ms. Kumar’s classroom.
“No. It’s not Ryan,” I said, my voice getting loud.
“What about Ryan?” Kevin asked, putting down his sandwich.
“Nothing,” I said. “Absolutely nothing.”
“You sure?” Kevin raised one eyebrow and then the other, alternating them until I started to laugh.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I wanted to sit down next to him, but another kid was already in that spot. I glanced over at Pete. There was an open seat next to him, but that didn’t seem like a good move. I may have cleared up the whole Petasha thing with Anna and Mira, but Kevin still didn’t know the truth. I sat down next to another girl. When Ryan came in, he sat down next to Pete.
Once everyone was there, Ms. Kumar ran through what needed to be done. She congratulated Pete and me on our publicity so far, and she encouraged everyone to take to social media.
“We want to sell a lot of tickets. We have a great cause.” She smiled at me. “And we want to raise a lot of money. Also, the decorations are coming along, but Kevin and Ryan need your help this week. On the days you’re not signed up for a lunchtime rehearsal slot, I expect you to be in the art room working. Understand?”
Most kids nodded; some said okay. I was glad because it gave me something to do other than stand around and look for a place to sit in the cafeteria.
“We only have eight days until the dress rehearsal. Nine days before the show. I know you are all working hard. There have been a couple of changes with some of the acts, and unfortunately we’ve had one person drop out.”
Thanks a lot, Karly.
“This is not supposed to be a high stakes, stressful event.” Ms. Kumar sat down on her desk. “I want to make sure we keep the focus on having fun and working as a team.” She crossed her legs. “Not on viewing each other as competition.”
I raised my hand.
“Sasha?”
“Is the Summer Academy director still going to be the judge?”
“Yes. That’s the plan.” Ms. Kumar picked up a gift bag that was sitting next to her on the desk. “As I was saying, I want all of you to have fun and embrace the spirit of giving. So …” She shook the bag in her hand. “We’re going to do Secret Snowman. You’ll each pick a name out of the bag and then you’ll leave notes, maybe treats, or an inexpensive gift for that person a few times during the week. And I mean inexpensive. Think homemade or the dollar bin at Target, not iTunes gift cards.”
Peppermint Cocoa Crushes Page 10
