Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)

by Amy Spalding

  “Riley!” Reid runs directly at me, like a train off its tracks. We collide and smack foreheads and both fall to the gym floor. I literally see stars. Reid makes dramatic moany sounds.

  “What the hell!” I shout into the heavens. The gym’s rafters, at least. “Why are the floors so slippery?”

  “They just waxed the floor,” Reid says. “For basketball preseason.”

  We continue to lie there, next to each other, somehow both still conscious after the head-smacking and the meet-gym-flooring.

  “I have news,” I say.

  “So do I,” Reid says.

  “You first!”

  “Jane has a boyfriend,” Reid says. “He goes to Marshall High, and his mom works for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.”

  “Crap, Reid, I’m sorry.”

  We lie there silently for a bit. It’s surprisingly not entirely uncomfortable.

  “What was your news?” Reid asks.

  Of course mere moments ago, when I was still vertical, I was bursting to share everything with Reid. Right now, though, it feels like I’m kicking him while he’s—literally—down.

  “Want to go get waffles?” I ask instead.

  “Ri, I almost always want to go get waffles.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Reid’s List of Where It Went Wrong

  Make sure a girl doesn’t have a boyfriend.

  Don’t fall in love with someone unless you’re sure that person loves you back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I make it through waffles with Reid without making his bad night even worse by letting him know that maybe Ted and I are happening. Post-waffle, I let myself into the house without worrying if I’m smiling too much or radiating happy Ted thoughts. Mom and Dad are both up, watching a spy movie, but they hit pause when I come through the door. A secret agent is frozen on-screen, mid-secret.

  “How was your show?” Dad asks. “Since we didn’t get to see it ourselves.”

  The United Front had mentioned coming to our show, but this was my night to be a Rock Star in my school. It didn’t feel like a rock star move to invite your parents to a school dance.

  “Really good. We even got an encore, like a totally legit encore.” I sit down with them, even though I’m barely calm enough to sit still. “Someone taped it, so you guys can watch it later, if you want.”

  “Of course we want,” Mom says.

  “This is just a general question, like a poll. If someone gets completely rejected, how soon can his friend tell him she finally kissed the guy she super likes?” I ask.

  “At least twenty-four hours,” Dad says very quickly.

  Mom cocks her head at that. “Honesty’s an important component of friendship. But if someone’s feelings need to be spared, I’m not sure there’s a set time limit.” The United Front is merely almost united for once. “Did something happen tonight—”

  “I’m just asking for a friend.” I make a face because no one ever believes that. “I should go to bed.”

  “Okay,” the United Front choruses happily.

  In my room I approach my computer with proper respect.

  There are actually six new emails in my inbox. One is from Nathan, three are just mailing lists from music venues (the Satellite, the Smell, and Bootleg), one is from MY DAD, who could just talk to me if he wanted, but the sixth is from exactly who I want it to be.

  to: riley.crowe-ellerman@email.com

  from: ted@edendalefencingclub.com

  subject: Tonight

  Hi Riley,

  Your show was great tonight. Maybe we can hang out this week.

  —Ted

  I know it doesn’t sound romantic, and I know it’s just two sentences plus our names and a hi, but I can feel that this is happening. I turn on my best late-night playlist (lots of fuzzy lo-fi and dream pop) and curl up in my pajamas with nothing but thoughts of Ted as I drift off to sleep.

  * * *

  There’s a flurry of texts between the Gold Diggers the next morning, which results in the four of us meeting up at Modern Eats for breakfast. I picture us ten years in the future after some amazing gig at the Troubadour.

  “Reid, stop it,” Lucy says. I’m not really paying attention to the conversation because my brain is full of Ted, but I’ve heard enough to know that Reid is talking about Jane. Again.

  “I’m just saying, if I were her, why would I pick me either?”

  “Lots of reasons,” Lucy says with hardly any impatience creeping into her tone.

  “You could do better,” Nathan says, with lots more creeping into his.

  “I obviously couldn’t!” Reid says.

  I know that it’s my turn to say something at least vaguely supportive, but my phone beeps, and I grab for it because it could be Ted texting me.

  But then I remember that Ted doesn’t have my number.

  “Who is it?” Reid asks.

  I check my phone’s screen.

  “Milo.” I shrug, even though I’m not sure Reid’s totally over how I now have a fake ID and he doesn’t.

  “Cool,” Reid says, and he sounds like he means it.

  Lucy is looking at me and Reid like she wants to ask who Milo is, but she doesn’t.

  “I’m working on lining up some more gigs,” Nathan says, changing the topic. “I think it’s time to make the band our priority, guys.”

  “It’s been my priority,” I say, because who the heck says it hasn’t been? “It has been for all of us.”

  “We should book more shows,” Nathan says, “and record more demo tracks. Something bigger.”

  “Nathan’s right,” Lucy pipes up right away of course.

  “We need money for more demo tracks,” I say. “It took a while to save up for the three we did record.”

  “True,” Reid says. “But we can pool our money again.”

  “I used my birthday money last time,” I say. “I can’t magically have another birthday until April.”

  “I can cover it,” Nathan says, and we all stare at him because that’s weird. Even Lucy is giving him a WTF? look. Yes, we all know Nathan lives in a big house in Franklin Hills, but it’s truly never been some kind of dividing line before. “What? I can. It’s no big deal.”

  “We know you can,” I say.

  “I just save my money.” Nathan shrugs like he’s just better at allowance than we are and not that his parents don’t have their own TV production company. “It’s not a big deal. It’ll be good to cut more demo tracks, maybe find a way to do a whole EP.”

  It’s not that anything Nathan’s doing is bad, but this has always been about the four of us, and I don’t like it that he seems to be taking control just because he has more money than we do.

  “Let’s think about it,” Lucy says. “Focus on more shows for now, maybe?”

  “Yeah,” Reid says, and I’m glad no one apparently wants to take Nathan’s money and run. “More gigs would be good.”

  “Okay.” It’s clear from his deep sigh, Nathan knows he’s defeated. “We do need to think about recording more, though.”

  “We know,” Lucy says in her sweet but teasing tone, and I can’t help but grin at her because, duh, Nathan, we get it.

  Afterward I can tell Reid is hoping we’ll all hang out longer, dissecting all the ways the Jane situation sucks, but we all have or are pretending to have plans that don’t allow for more of that. My plans are literally going home to email Ted, but I still don’t quite know how to present this information to Reid without crushing him even more.

  So I just say nothing. And at home I respond to Ted’s email from last night. I also finally respond to Milo, and we make plans to hang out on Sunday. Even after the dance, I’m not certain Ted’s a sure thing yet, and there’s no reason not to see Milo in the meantime.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Ways Milo Is Amazing, by Riley (OBVIOUSLY)

  Has fake ID and the ability to get more fake IDs!

  Has the confidence to pull
off the tuba.

  Apparently has some kind of magical ability to always know about upcoming shows, even ones that aren’t publicized.

  Says his favorite shake at the Oinkster is the ube, so he has good taste and isn’t afraid of unique flavors/colors.

  Acts really casual but never like he’s too good for stuff.

  Is gorgeous like guys you see in black-and-white photos about CBGB’s heyday.

  Despite #6, is clearly into ME.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I take my sweet frigging time getting ready Monday morning because as much as I want to see Ted—who finally responded to my email but with nothing concrete or specific about the hanging out we’re going to do this week—I still want to appear casual. I will not seem like the girl stalking her own inbox or replaying the fall formal’s kisses in her head as if they’re the winning touchdown after the Super Bowl.

  But after dropping Ashley off at the middle school, I can’t avoid Edendale, since I don’t feel like another late slip, so I head over and park. A guy I barely know stares me down as I walk through the parking lot, and I have no idea what this is about, but it is not putting me in a casual mood.

  “You were so awesome at the dance,” he says.

  Oh!

  “Thanks,” I say. It is the first of SIX TIMES I get to thank someone for a similar or even identical compliment just on my way to my locker. There’s even a random present from some anonymous worshipper in my locker! Someone shoved in a mix CD, somehow, and labeled in pretty great penmanship is a good array of songs from bands that all have kick-ass drummers, including Superchunk, Lightning Bolt, Flaming Lips, Wild Flag, the Descendants, and the Minutemen, and even some old-school stuff like the Who and the Velvet Underground. I love CDs, and I love gifts so, thank you, anonymous person. You’re awesome.

  I don’t find Ted, but at least I can’t seem too forceful if I’m not all up in his face. The kissing might not even mean huge new perfect things! I kissed Garrick and Milo and nothing huge or new or perfect is going on with them. Sometimes kissing is just kissing, and I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

  Especially with Ted.

  “Riley,” Garrick greets me when I walk into chemistry. “I heard you guys were awesome. I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”

  “We should have a video we’ll put up on our site soon,” I say.

  “Also this week is less crazy if you want to hang out or something.”

  “Sure,” I say, but then I think about Ted. “Though… maybe just to study.”

  Garrick shoves his hair all around. “Did you hear something? About you-know-who?”

  “Voldemort?” Why did I ask that? Riley, get it together. “Sorry, that’s stupid, just, no, what?”

  He leans over and scribbles on my worksheet. I hung out with Sydney this weekend.

  My brain is spinning. Okay, I was literally probably just about to stop whatever has been happening with Garrick, and now maybe that’s been taken care of for me. But is Garrick with Sydney again? When he could have me? Except, wait, no, things might really be happening with Ted. And of course there’s Milo who is so straightforward and uncomplicated and what you’d find in the dictionary under rock, if dictionaries used photos of cute guys to make points.

  Mr. Landiss starts talking, so I pick up my pen. It’s okay. We weren’t official at all!

  Garrick nods and leans over again. It just kind of happened, and I didn’t want you to hear from someone else. I was going to tell you in person and not at school if I could help it. I’m sorry. You’re great.

  It’s OK! I write. WE ARE FINE! You are great too!

  I think about telling him I was just about to end things anyway, but Mr. Landiss starts yammering about Bunsen burners, and of course Garrick’s taking attentive notes. And I decide things really are fine, and flash back to Friday night some more instead.

  * * *

  After school Ted’s at my locker for once.

  “Hi, Riley,” he says.

  “Hey, what are you doing now? After school, I mean. Are you busy?” I ask, then worry I’m being too eager after I was also the one to kiss him first. I’ve held off all day from acting too eager. “I mean, no big deal if you are, or if you aren’t but you have something else to do.”

  Ted smiles like my babbling isn’t annoying. “Actually I have to intern at my mom’s office tonight.”

  “Do you need a ride? I can take you.”

  “I was going to say, I can be a few minutes late. So, a ride would be great, and we can maybe hang out for a while.”

  I wonder if we’re going to spend those few minutes making out, but instead we end up at Silverlake Coffee. Ted’s quiet like he normally is, and it’s easy to believe I didn’t actually kiss him on Friday night. It’s even easier to believe he didn’t kiss me back. But when we get back into my car with our cranberry chais—which don’t really taste like cranberry or chai but are yummy regardless—I lean over a little and we’re kissing again. I know it’s not fair to compare, but when I’d kissed Garrick, it was like those kisses were Going Somewhere. But when Ted and I are kissing, it’s like the destination doesn’t even matter because every single moment seems like it couldn’t get better.

  “I guess we should probably go,” he says during a pause. “I’m sorry. My mom got this whole internship set up for me to help with my college applications next year, and I don’t want to flake on it.”

  “Your mom sounds really cool,” I say for some reason. After that I stay pretty quiet as we drive over to the office.

  “Thanks for the ride, Riley,” he says, and then he’s gone.

  I shove the secret admirer’s CD into my stereo. My phone rings, but it’s no secret admirer getting less secret. It’s just Reid.

  “Yo,” I say, mainly to taunt him.

  “Riley, I don’t care what you’re doing, you have to come over here now.”

  “I was actually—”

  “It doesn’t matter what! This is an emergency.”

  “Are you dying?” I ask. Probably not if he’s on the phone with me, but I still feel like I should check.

  “My soul is dying,” he says very seriously.

  I’m not that worried about him because this is the second time this school year he’s said his soul was dying. But I still drive over to his house. I’m in the process of parking when I know what’s up because Reid is standing in front of his house holding a leash that is attached to the cutest black fluffy dog.

  “Oh my god!” I leap out of the car as it’s still settling in place alongside the curb. “You got a dog!”

  “No, Riley, I did not get a dog,” Reid says. “I was dogged.”

  “That’s not a thing.” I jump back and forth in front of the dog so it’ll join in, and it does. Nothing in life is wrong when you are bouncing around with canine friends. “This is the best dog. You’re so lucky; my parents say we can’t have pets because ‘we’re both too busy to help.’”

  “Riley, I don’t want this dog,” Reid says. “When I got home, Mom was there and acting all weird, and then the doorbell rings and it’s Jane’s boss from Paws for People with this dog.”

  “The dog you pretended you were going to adopt so you could win Jane over,” I say, scratching the dog between its ears. “Oh my god, what are you going to name it? Is it a boy or a girl?”

  “It’s a boy.” Reid shakes his head. “I had this whole plan of going back and saying I didn’t know my brother had allergies—”

  “Michael’s allergic to dogs?” I ask. Reid’s older brother, who is crazy good-looking in a frat-boy manner and off in Chicago at Northwestern, hasn’t spent enough significant time around me for me to be knowledgeable about his allergies.

  “No, Riley, that was just the plan to bail on the dog. But I forgot about the plan, since it seemed like I was getting somewhere with Jane—”

  “It did,” I say. “It wasn’t you being crazy. It was—”

  “Anyway,” Reid says, cutting me off. “So the last ti
me we talked about the dog, I said I didn’t know if my mom would be okay with it or not because she’d probably rather I get a purebred dog from a breeder instead of a rescue.”

  “She must have gotten all riled up,” I say, because Jane is on this one-girl mission to educate people at Edendale about the thirteen bajillion reasons it’s better to rescue a pet. She has brochures stuck to her locker and a handwritten sign that says, TAKE ONE, PLEASE!!

  “Yes, she did, and thinking she was being nice to me, she called my mom and explained it all to her.”

  “Wait, you made up an allergy for Michael, but you gave your mom’s real number?”

  “She could have checked that! She couldn’t check if Michael was allergic. And I was going to make up his allergy. I didn’t even get a chance.”

  I sit down on the ground so it’s easier to pet the dog. This dog has immediately become at least my third best friend in ranking. “Seriously, what are you going to name him? He needs the best, fluffiest name.”

  I think about telling Reid about my list of kitten names but as awesome as this dog is, I’m not going to sacrifice one of my names.

  “Riley, this is a disaster! Why aren’t you acting like it’s a disaster?”

  “It’s not a disaster.” I know Reid wants me to share his devastation but I just can’t. “Jane was actually trying to do something nice for you, and so was your mom. You should feel special. And now you have a dog. A dog! You’re so lucky.”

  Reid plunks down next to me on the ground. “I guess I’m going to name him Peabody. You know, like Rocky and Bullwinkle’s genius dog.”

  I don’t know, because unlike Reid, I’m not a weirdo about old cartoons, but I don’t want to discourage him. “That’s a great name.” I pat his shoulder. “See? This is great.”

  He doesn’t agree out loud, but I think maybe he does agree. Or at least somewhere deep down inside his weird Reid heart.

  “You have to get him a cool collar,” I say. “That one’s supergeneric.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he says with a sigh like he’s carrying the entire world’s problems on his shoulders.