“Oh,” he says. “You should. And yeah, I am. I always did drama club at my last school and it’s really fun.”
“My friend Meg’s girlfriend used to be in drama club,” I say. “She always loved it.”
He frowns. “She isn’t in it anymore?”
“She graduated,” I explain. “She also broke up with Meg,” I add, because apparently I really feel like oversharing today. I just can’t stop saying random things. “So she’s really her ex-girlfriend now. That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks for your friend,” he says, and we both go quiet for a while, not sure what to say.
“So,” I finally speak up. “Um. Math?”
“Yes,” he says. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” I agree, nodding probably way too enthusiastically. “We’re here for the numbers!”
“So you can convince me they’re cool,” he agrees, and smiles widely, showing all of his teeth, which just makes me blush again.
“I will do my best to infect you with as much of my nerdy numbers-appreciation as possible,” I promise solemnly.
His smile fades. “Hey, don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Uh, what?”
“The nerdy thing. It’s not a bad thing to like stuff.”
“No, I know, I—” I shake my head at him, a bit taken aback. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just—I don’t know.”
“I mean,” Danny says, “I totally fail to understand why you like this stuff, but hey, I’m a drama geek. That’s not really very conventionally cool, either, I guess. So, whatever, right?”
I have to think about that for a moment. Drama club actually sounds pretty cool to me, if I’m being honest.
“Well, I guess once you’re a famous actor and an international superstar, it’s going to start being pretty cool,” I argue.
“And when you invent a new kind of spaceship that finally gets humans to Mars, that won’t be cool?” He smirks at me.
“I don’t even know yet if I want to go into engineering or—” I start, then break off when I realize that it had probably been a joke. “No, I see what you mean. Not many people see it like that, though.”
“Well, that’s their problem.” He looks at me with his head tilted to the side, cheek propped up on one hand.
I don’t know what to say to that because I don’t know what he means, so I say nothing and instead lower my eyes again because being looked at for so long is a little weird and makes me feel a little self-conscious.
Finally, he clears his throat and says, “And anyway, I don’t think I even want to go into acting.”
“Oh?” I contribute articulately.
He shakes his head, bites his lip, looks a little embarrassed. “I—I like to write,” he admits.
“That’s awesome,” I answer. “Like, novels?”
He nods. “Short stories, mostly. I’ve been working on a novel for a while. And I wrote a play over the summer.”
“That’s really cool,” I assure him.
“I don’t even know if my stuff is any good.”
“Have you ever let anyone read it?”
He shakes his head. “A few people, yes. But it’s just on the Internet, uh, no one I actually, um. I don’t know if it’s any good. But it’s fun, you know?”
“Having fun and doing things you enjoy is important,” I confirm and smile in a way I hope is encouraging. “And one day when you’re the world’s next J. K. Rowling or Joss Whedon, I’ll point at your picture in a magazine and tell my grandkids, ‘I tutored him when we were young!’ I just know it!”
Danny smiles, eyebrows drawn together. “So, either you are not as good at math as you said you were, or you just described a scenario in which you age twice as quickly as I do? Or why exactly do you have grandkids when I’m thirty?”
I laugh. “Oh, you mean to get famous young; you didn’t tell me that. I’m sorry. I’ll reset the parameters according to your specifications.”
“You’re a dork!” Danny laughs, but it sounds as if he really means it in a nice way.
Or maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part.
But either way, I am definitely enjoying this a lot!
Chapter 21
Meg
HE’S SMILING WHEN I OPEN the door for him, which I’m choosing to see as a good sign. Even if Linus is, quite frankly, usually smiling. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like living inside his head; I know how high his expectations are that he sets for himself, how much anxiety that gives him. And yet he is always putting on a smile and seems so optimistic most of the time. Except when it comes to finding a boyfriend, apparently.
“How did it go?” I ask.
He shrugs, looking just a little smug. “Not bad! Not bad at all!”
“So, it was a date after all?” I prod, because it doesn’t look like he’s going to volunteer any more information on his own.
Instead of confirming what I assume to be fact, his eyebrows draw together and he looks very confused. “No! Of course not! I’m tutoring him. You know that.”
“Are you quite sure about that?” I close the door behind him as he walks past me to take off his shoes by the stairs.
“Of course I am sure—I was there!”
“Well, you are maybe not the best person to judge this kind of thing!”
He rolls his eyes, straightens up from putting his shoes away, and puts both his hands on my shoulders. “Listen carefully, Meg,” he says, looking me in the eyes. “You have to stop this!”
“Stop what?” I ask sullenly. “I’m not doing anything!”
“Yes, you are!” He sighs. “And it’s insane. I am tutoring Danny. And I need you to stop reading anything else into it. Because it’s weird and not true.”
“He asked you to tutor him,” I point out.
“Yes. I know that. Thank you.”
“He could have asked anyone, but he asked you!”
At that, he merely lifts an eyebrow at me, tilting his head to the side. “Yes?”
I throw up my hands in frustration and sigh loudly. “There are so many people he could have asked, Linus! Are you aware of that? He could have asked me. He could have asked one of the people who actually advertised tutoring on the bulletin board. Or one of the other people on Ms. Gilbert’s list. But he asked you. He specifically came looking for you!”
“Coincidence,” he says. “Perhaps I was the first nerd he ran into that day. Or maybe he knows someone I have tutored before and that’s how he decided to ask me.”
“Or maybe,” I insist, “he likes you and that’s why he came looking for you!” I’m not ready to give up on this idea yet. If there’s even the slightest chance that I could be right about this, it means that Linus could be happy. And I really want him to be happy.
“Why is this so important to you?” he wants to know. “Because you have to admit that it is just a little weird for you to be so preoccupied with my love life.”
“I don’t know. You’re my best friend. Isn’t that reason enough?” I lift my shoulders, and there is quite simply no way I could explain this in actual words. “And I’m not preoccupied with your love life. I just happen to be a good judge of character and I’m telling you, he likes you!”
He nods, pauses, smiles down at his own socked feet. “Okay. Well. Do I get my cookie now? I believe you promised me a cookie in exchange for me entertaining you with all the boring details of my afternoon.”
“Yes. And I’ll make coffee. Right.” I smile back, pretending to drop the subject. I’m just going to listen and draw my own conclusions. And then I can decide upon an appropriate course of action once he’s gone home this evening.
In the kitchen, Linus is putting some cookies on a plate while I’m refilling the coffeemaker.
“So, are we still joining drama club or what?” I quickly change the subject. And honestly, it’s the perfect plan. Since it seems like Linus is not going to take the
initiative in becoming friends-and-hopefully-more with Danny, it is imperative that we create common ground between them in some other way. I like this idea more than ever. They’ll have a neutral place to hang out and spend more time together, on top of tutoring. At this rate, I’ll have them engaged by Christmas.
“I don’t know,” he says. “What would we be doing in drama club?”
I turn to lean my butt against the counter and look at him. “Well, what does everyone else do in drama club? Acting and stuff, I guess. Sophia said they also always had people who just did stuff like lights and costumes.”
“I don’t know anything about any of that,” he points out.
“Does it really matter what we do?” I ask. “It might be fun. Sophia loved it. I’m sure it’s fun.”
“It might be,” he admits. “I’m not saying that I don’t want to.”
“Then what are you saying? It was your idea, you know? You suggested this in the first place.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “Yes, I remember. And I do kind of want to. I think it sounds fun. But are you only pushing for this so hard so that I am going to have to hang out with Danny? Or do you want to join because it used to be Sophia’s favorite club?”
I don’t really know how to answer that because I don’t know the answer. So I say nothing. The truth is, yes, I do want to see Linus and Danny together. But … I don’t know, it does feel like holding on to a part of my ex-girlfriend at the same time and somehow that seems even more pathetic than playing matchmaker for my best friend so I don’t want to think about it.
“Hey,” he says. “Maybe you really should try talking to Sophia.”
“No.” There. At least that is something I have an immediate response to.
“Why not?”
Now I’m starting to get angry and I don’t like it. “What could she possibly have to say to me that she hasn’t said already?”
“You’ll have to listen to her to find that out.”
“No, thank you! I believe she has already said everything she ever needed to say to me. I don’t know what else there could be at this point.”
“I bet that she’s really sorry for everything.”
“Oh, well.” I snort. “If she’s sorry, I guess that makes it all okay, then.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” he says. “But maybe you’d at least understand why it happened.”
“No,” I repeat, and shake my head firmly. Because the truth is, I am wondering what happened. And I am wondering if maybe there had been anything I could have done in order to prevent it from happening. But more than that, I am terrified. I am terrified of asking her what went wrong and finding out that we were never actually as happy as I wanted us to be. I am terrified of finding out that it was all only ever in my head. I am terrified to learn that she never really loved me at all.
I don’t want the last two years of my life to have been nothing but a lie. So, no. I do want to know, but I don’t want to know. If that makes sense at all.
“Do you at least want to talk to me about it?” he offers. “You know I’m always here for you, don’t you?”
I do know that. I know he loves me and that I can talk to him about anything and he would never hurt me. But this—I am just not ready. Maybe I’ll never be ready. You don’t just get over someone like Sophia.
“What I want,” I say, “is to hear more about your exciting afternoon!”
“It really wasn’t what you want it to be, you know that, right?” he asks.
“I know that you want to talk about it, though, right?” I ask back. “You just spent an afternoon with the guy you’re in love with and you’re probably dying to talk about it.”
He blushes. “I wouldn’t say ‘love.’ I barely know him.”
“But you do want to talk about him.”
He groans, hides his face behind his hands to hide his grin. “God, yes, I really do.”
“I knew it!” I laugh triumphantly, then check on the coffeemaker. “Coffee’s ready anyway. Grab the cookies; I’ll bring the mugs.”
He nods and walks ahead into the living room.
So, it seems that he does indeed need my help with the whole Danny situation. Because he does like him. And, I mean, okay. Maybe I am wrong. Who knows? I can’t be sure that it’s mutual and I can’t know that this will work out. But what’s life without a little risk? I’m never going to do anything to hurt him. I wouldn’t do that. I’m just going to observe and push when necessary.
He looks at me when I walk through with the coffee in my hands. “You are still thinking about me and Danny, aren’t you?”
I shake my head emphatically. “Of course not! Whatever gives you that idea?”
He sighs. “Okay,” he says plaintively. “I can’t stop you from being insane. But the minute you start writing fan fiction about us, you can find a new best friend. And good luck finding someone who won’t mind your running commentary on Deep Space Nine episodes.”
I try not to look too excited as I’m trying to figure out their ship name. I can’t believe I have overlooked this detail so far. I need a good portmanteau for the two! Lanny? Dinus? Dannus? I’ll have to give this some more thought.
“Oh god, you are actually thinking about this now, aren’t you?” he asks, horrified.
I laugh. “Relax. You know I’m not much of a writer.” It’s true. I tried my hand at fan fiction once, but it wasn’t pretty.
“Danny is a writer,” Linus says quietly, and his mouth does that twitchy thing it does when he tries too hard to keep the smile from splitting his face in half.
“Oh, is he?” I say, and file this information away for later. Maybe I can use it.
Look, I said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not going to do anything crazy. I’m not going to lock them in a supply closet at school or abandon them in the woods with only each other for company. But if I manage to—create certain opportunities for them, that’s not something you could really call “interfering,” is it?
And that is all I am going to do. I swear it. I’m going to create opportunities. And if nothing happens, that’s fine. I’ll admit that I was wrong and let it go. But if I am right …
Well, I really do want to be the best woman at their wedding.
Chapter 22
Linus
MEG TEXTS ME EARLY ON Monday morning that she’s not coming to school.
Everything okay? I text back, frowning into my coffee.
I’m okay, she replies. But Mom has this idea that I should take a day off for self-care or whatever after being dumped.
She’s not wrong, you know, I tell her.
I don’t know about that. But she’s taking me shopping, so who am I to argue?
I grin and shake my head. You should absolutely not argue with that, I agree!
I know, right?
Buy lots of nice things! I text her, and drain the rest of my coffee.
We usually only carpool if we’re planning to hang out together later, so it’s not like I’ve been counting on her this morning. I’m not really on her way to school and usually it’s easier if Mom or Dad drops me off on their way to work and I always manage to get home somehow—one of them picks me up or I take the bus or sometimes, if I don’t have anything else to do that afternoon, I walk. It takes a while, but I don’t mind. Sometimes I get to borrow one of my parents’ cars. I don’t have one of my own.
Today I was supposed to get a lift from Dad anyway. Mom’s gonna come by this afternoon to pick me up. She only has a half day at work today.
I grab my things and walk back into the kitchen, where Dad is still very engrossed in his newspaper. Does anyone else still read actual newspapers on actual paper? It seems incredibly old-fashioned to me. And not the smartest choice environmentally, either, when you can just as easily get the news on your tablet computer or your phone. But Dad doesn’t like reading on his phone.
“Dad?” I say, and he looks up, startled.
“Huh?”
“Read
y to leave? I don’t want to be late!”
“Oh.” He pushes his glasses up on his nose and blinks at me. “Right. Of course.”
“I have the keys,” I tell him, dangling them in front of his face, because I know he tends to forget them.
He gets up, takes them, and ruffles my hair in response. “Thanks, kiddo. Okay, let’s go!”
I follow him out the door and try not to roll my eyes at him too obviously while I try to flatten my hair again, which had been perfect before he messed it up. I love my dad, but I swear he’d forget his own head sometimes if it wasn’t firmly attached to his neck.
School without Meg is pretty boring. Since we don’t have many classes together it’s not like we usually keep each other company all through the day. But I’m used to knowing that I have someone to run into in the halls and have lunch with.
As per her texted instructions, I at least walk by the bulletin board and put both our names on the sign-up sheet for drama club. I’m actually really starting to look forward to this club even if I’m sure that I’m a pretty terrible actor. I’ve never tried it, though, so who knows. And the way I see it, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. My dad plays the clarinet and he loves it dearly. It’s the sole reason we spent that summer three years ago soundproofing the basement, because to the rest of the world his “music” is mostly torturous minutes of endless screeching. But he has fun with it.
The club meets for the first time Tuesday, so we’re just in time to sign up, too.
“Hey, you’ve really decided to join, too. Awesome,” a voice says behind me. A very welcome voice.
“Hi, Danny,” I say, and turn to smile at him. “Yeah, I mean, I’m not even very clear on the specifics yet, like, what it even really is you do, but I’m excited to try it!”
“It is very exciting,” he assures me. “I’m glad you decided to sign up!”
“So am I,” I say, and keep smiling, and don’t really know what to say next so I just keep babbling. “I mean, I’m definitely not in this for, like, a big part or whatever. I don’t think I want that. I probably wouldn’t be very good at it. I was thinking more of easing my way in slowly, you know? Something insignificant. Do you think there will be any parts for people who tend to stumble over their own feet a lot? Or, if there’s nothing else I’d also totally be up for just being in charge of lights or whatever. Unless that’s really complicated, too—I don’t know anything about lighting now that I think of it, but I’m generally a pretty fast learner—”
Meg & Linus Page 9
