Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)

by Amy Spalding

  “Never mind, just, Reid, she’s into you.” My phone buzzes, again, from the floor. I grab for it and grin at the screen. Ted Callahan calling.

  “Who is it?” Reid asks. LIKE HE KNOWS.

  “No one,” I say. “My dad.”

  Why did I say that! It is so clearly not my dad from the goofy face I’m making. But I don’t want to take a potentially romantic call with Ted right in front of Reid, so I do something tragic: I send Ted to voice mail.

  “Ted was cute to me earlier,” I say, testing the topic.

  “How?”

  I tell him about the lollipops because this is news I want to share with someone. To be honest, the best audience for the story would be Lucy, but that isn’t an option right now.

  Reid makes a face. “That seems unhygienic.”

  “It’s no more unhygienic than kissing,” I say, even though that’s just a guess and not a scientific fact.

  “I guess not.” Reid shrugs. “Just tell me what to do about Madison.”

  “Just be happy. Can’t you do that?”

  He stares at me, and I realize maybe he can’t. There’s a cool and pretty and potentially-actually-interesting girl who likes him, and he’s all caught up in disastrous possibilities instead of the awesome reality right in front of him. But even though I’ve now at least sort of dated three guys, and the whole romance world seems less foreign, I don’t know how to fix this for him. Instead I invite him to stay for dinner because it’s really the only thing within my power right now.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  The Madison Thing, Continued, by Reid

  Madison’s hanging out with me after school near my locker, like, almost every day, and she asks if she can come over after school and hang out.

  I don’t know what to do because:

  PROS:

  Obviously a girl wanting to come over to your place is a good sign about sex or at least sex-related things.

  Our house is pretty nice and Mom has all these impressive awards on the mantel in the living room.

  Probably if she wanted to dump me she’d have no problem doing it in public or over the phone or something, so I have at least another day of dating her I figure.

  CONS:

  If I had known a girl was going to be in my room later, I would have cleaned it entirely, like a spring-cleaning-level cleaning, with fresh sheets and a new Glade PlugIn in my outlet.

  Also obviously I would have put away some of the board games on my shelf and maybe a third of the framed animation cells Mom got me when I was younger that are still pretty freaking awesome and will be worth a lot of money someday.

  Peabody’s still getting used to living in a house and occasionally has an accident. It’s not a big deal, but it doesn’t seem very romantic to walk a girl into a house where a dog just pooped.

  As Riley is well aware, Mom has all these childhood photos of me littered throughout the house like I’m a saint or celebrity (of Michael, too, but the ones of me are objectively more embarrassing), and I’d like to remove at least 60 percent of them.

  But I really can’t say no to Madison (seriously, I’m not sure it’s possible scientifically) so she follows me over to my house. Peabody earns extra treats because there aren’t any accidents anywhere in the house, and it turns out Madison actually really likes dogs and we head out on the longest walk I’ve ever taken with Peabody so far. We try and stop at one point that’s on kind of a secluded stretch of sidewalk to kiss, but apparently kissing makes Peabody bark so we give up on that. (Thanks a lot, Peabody.)

  When we get back to the house, for some reason Mom is home weirdly early but it’s cool because I’ve already told her all about Madison and she doesn’t act embarrassing, though Madison does ask a lot of questions about the worst of the pictures of me. Mom answers all the questions and she and Madison are developing, like, this witty banter thing. I haven’t been able to relax enough around Madison to develop anything like that so it’s really frustrating that my mom is so cool.

  So what I’m saying is no matter what good things happen, I’m sure this is still pretty much doomed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Madison walks up to me again a couple days later while I’m fighting books in and out of my locker. Maybe I should ask Ted to install a shelf for me. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Here,” she says, and shoves a little box at me. The box is covered with this filmy metallic paper, and when I open it up there’s a feather earring inside, just like she said she’d make for me. It’s greenish blue and looks nothing like hers, so we won’t be creepy earring twins. “If you don’t like it, whatever, I can make you a different one.”

  “No, it’s awesome. Thank you! I like the box, too.”

  She shrugs. “I also made the box.”

  “Oh my god, the box is even cooler than the earring! And the earring is awesome to begin with.”

  Madison shrugs again. “Okay. You’re welcome.”

  Ted walks down the hallway and waves, and I try not to grin beyond an appropriate manner as he walks up. “Hi, Riley.”

  Madison shrugs again and heads off down the hall.

  “What’s in the box?” Ted asks.

  “This.” I take out the earring and put it in. “It’s a cool box, right?”

  “Definitely, yeah.” He places something in the palm of my hand. “I have to get to class. See you in world history.”

  “See you then.” I look down to see a tiny box of jelly beans. Score! Jewelry and candy in one morning.

  Garrick smiles and waves at me as I walk into class. “Hi, Riley!”

  “Hey.” I sit down next to him and open my book.

  “Can I have one of those?” Garrick asks me, and I feel myself raring up to exclaim my shock over such a request. Except I remember that Garrick doesn’t know these are jelly beans of love. So I give him some.

  I get a text from Milo as I’m walking to lunch, with news that Purple & Black is playing a free set at Amoeba tonight. So I respond with a yeahhh c u there!!!

  After band practice that night I rush home, and—luckily?—Mom and Dad are both there already. I sit down at the kitchen table with my homework LIKE I NEVER DO and hope it gives me an air of industrious responsibility, not suspicion.

  Dad leans over my world history textbook. “What are you learning in this?”

  “Blah blah, the Romans,” I say. “Hey, guys, would it be okay if I went to a show at Amoeba tonight? I’ll come home right after.”

  “Riley,” Mom says, “this week you had Yearbook and band practice. One night Reid was over, Monday you stopped off somewhere on your way home, and I’m sure you have plans Friday night.” (DO I!) “Would it kill you to spend the rest of the evening here?”

  “But Purple & Black, this band I like, is doing a free set,” I say. “I’ve never seen them live, and, again, it’s free.”

  “They’re pretty good,” Dad says. “Like Tegan and Sara but less Canadian.”

  “Yes!” I feel bad for not going into more detail with him on the Romans. “So is it okay?”

  There’s a lot of heavy sighing from the United Front as Ashley sweeps into the room to get yogurt from the refrigerator. “Is Riley going out again? Riley’s always going out.”

  Killing your sister should be a thing you can do, if you want.

  “No,” Dad says. “Riley, I’m sorry.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” Mom or Dad or whatever member of the United Front says.

  I leave my books on the kitchen table and run out to the guesthouse where I call Milo.

  “Hey.” His voice is full of promise and upcoming concertgoing.

  “Hi, I’m sorry, I know this is so superlame, but my parents are being stupid and I’m not allowed to go out tonight, and I’m really sorry.”

  “That sucks,” he says. “Is there any way you can sneak out?”

  Sneak out? I’d never even thought of that. I am seriously the worst rock star ever.

/>   “Yes,” I say, even though I have no plan of attack. It’s going to be SO GOOD to document later in the Passenger Manifest, and also I don’t want to pass up this show. Milo promises to pick me up down the street so Mom and Dad won’t see or hear his car, and I act disappointed and pathetic at dinner as to not set off any alerts.

  After dinner I go back out to the guesthouse and crank up my iPod hooked to my speakers and let it run as I walk down the street. Milo’s car is there, as promised. I am a freaking certified badass as I sit down in the passenger seat. Milo’s blond hair has been cut since I saw him last, and it’s spiking up just a little, like he’s a tough guy who doesn’t care too much about his gorgeous freaking hair.

  “That was actually supereasy,” I say. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  He leans over to kiss me. “Thanks for going with me.”

  “Thanks for telling me about it,” I say.

  “I know I can rely on you for show attendance,” Milo says with a grin. “How’s everything with the band?”

  I start to tell him about our gig at the Smell, but I know Ted’s going, and that feels too dangerous. “Well, Nathan hasn’t mentioned the EP or his epic riches as much lately, so I guess they’re okay.”

  I feel like I’m cheating on Ted, but, after all, Ted is not my boyfriend. Ugh, Ted! He’s working hard at deep-frying corn dogs and sticks of cheese while I’m out with this other guy. I feel like I’m maybe a jerk, so I get out my phone to text him.

  i wish u could come to p&b show w/ me!!

  Ted texts back a few minutes later. Milo and I aren’t talking much because we’re blasting the Feelies and singing along. Me too! Have fun. Don’t get anything weird signed. I grin to myself and text back. like what? a puppy? He takes a bit to respond and I remind myself he’s making lemonades and fried foods. I meant like a body part. But not a puppy either. Marker ink’s probably bad for puppies.

  “Everything cool?” Milo asks me. “Your parents aren’t onto you, are they?”

  “No, free and clear,” I say. “It’s just my friend Reid.”

  Why am I lying?

  My phone buzzes again, and this time it is Reid.

  Madison says I’m acting weird and things are cool. I know she’s lying!

  “Do you have friends you wish you could punch?” I ask Milo.

  “Definitely,” he says. “Some people need it.”

  “I can’t even text him back over this,” I say. “Oh, wait, no, I can, I have an icon of a fist I can send. Do you think that’s clear?”

  Milo laughs. “It’s pretty clear.”

  So I text back the fist, and Reid responds in a flash. He is not Ted with his endless other responsibilities. Is that a fist bump or a fist punch?

  “I guess it wasn’t clear enough,” I say aloud, which makes Milo laugh again.

  Once we get to Amoeba, there’s a crowd already inside crowding the stage that’s been set up for the night. But Milo and I are experts at this. We slide through the empty spaces and get right up front for Purple & Black’s set.

  “Do you want to get something signed?” Milo asks me after the set. “Or should we take off?”

  “No, I do,” I say, dashing over to get in line.

  “I’m, um, I’m going to get something for this friend of mine who couldn’t come tonight.” I lean against a CD bin to appear casual.

  Milo raises an eyebrow. Do I not seem casual enough? I lean harder.

  “Okay,” he says.

  So I ask Macy (vocals and guitar) and Lyndel (vocals and piano) to sign their newest CD for Ted, who is stuck at Hot Dog on a Stick, and they do, and I grin down at this perfect present for the guy who gives me candy and mix CDs. If he hasn’t heard of Purple & Black, I hope he’ll like them anyway.

  “Who’s Ted?” Milo asks me. “Is he the other guy in your band?”

  “No, that’s Nathan. Ted’s just this guy, um, in Yearbook with me. He’s always stuck at his job.”

  When Milo parks a block from my house, I’m so nervous about making it back in unseen that I just thank him and wave and jump out really fast like I’m rolling to safety from a moving vehicle. I should have changed clothes earlier so I’d be wearing all black like a ninja or cat burglar or heist type, but I’m in red Chucks and jeans and a yellow Ted Leo and the Pharmacists hoodie. It’s a stupid sneaky outfit, but I walk right into the guesthouse and my music is still playing and it’s like I never left. Holy crap. I just got away with something.

  I spend a few minutes in here before heading inside, where Mom and Dad are watching some TV procedural about solving murders. They barely glance up at me, and I say good night and walk upstairs like a champion liar. Wait, no, that’s horrible. I don’t want to be a champion liar.

  I text Milo to let him know the sneaking out was a success, and he seems happy about this (Nice work! c u soon), so I guess we’re okay even after the weird moment when I got the CD signed for Ted. Anyway, that moment would only prove Reid semi-right, so I don’t mention it at all when I log my badass night in the Passenger Manifest, even though I’m still thinking about it. I wonder how I’d feel if Milo had gotten a CD signed for a girl who isn’t me. Still, for the Passenger Manifest, I leave things 100 percent badass.

  * * *

  I make my way to Ted’s locker the next morning and try to figure out whatever magical method he used to maneuver a CD into my locker. The Purple & Black CD is even in one of those slim cardboard jackets, but I can’t figure out how he did it. I’m probably pointlessly cycling through all my previous fruitless methods when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  I spin around with a smile because it’ll seem adorable to Ted that he caught me red-handed. But it is definitely NOT Ted; it’s Mrs. Bullard, whose classroom is right by Ted’s locker, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t think I’m adorable.

  “Miss Crowe-Ellerman,” she says, “I know that this is not your locker.”

  “Oh, I know, too, I was just trying to…” I hold up the CD like it will speak all necessary words of explanation for me. CD, do my bidding! “It’s a gift!”

  “You know the student handbook policy on tampering with other students’ lockers,” she says, which is not true. I am not at all aware of pretty much anything in the student handbook.

  “I’m not tampering,” I say, even though I was trying to bend the metal air vents with the superhero force of my powerful biceps. “Okay, it’s tampering, but I was tampering out of—”

  OH MY GOD I ALMOST SAID “LOVE”!

  Ted rounds the corner and smiles when he sees me. “Hi, Riley.”

  “Mr. Callahan,” Mrs. Bullard says. “Miss Crowe-Ellerman was tampering with your locker.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he says quickly. “She’s my—”

  I hold my breath to see what I am. But Ted’s face just gets bright red, and he says nothing. In fact he is so quiet it’s like he is subtracting all the speech from the world.

  “All right,” Mrs. Bullard says. “Miss Crowe-Ellerman, I suggest you review your student handbook.”

  “I totally will,” I say.

  “I have one in my locker she can borrow,” Ted says as Mrs. Bullard walks back into her classroom. “Wow, that was really dramatic.”

  “I’m so sorry! I was just trying to leave you this.” I give him the CD, and he grins at it, then at me. “I wish you could have come.”

  “Me too, but, thanks, Riley, this is great.” He leans in and OH MY GOD, IS TED GOING TO KISS ME IN THE SCHOOL HALLWAY RIGHT BY MRS. BULLARD’S ROOM, AND HOW MANY STUDENT HANDBOOK POLICIES WILL THAT VIOLATE?

  But all he does is put his hand on my forearm.

  “See you in world history,” I say, because as much as I want to stand here having my arm touched, I need to get to my locker.

  “Okay.” Ted waves and heads off.

  When I get to my locker, he has already tampered with it, because I have a fun-size Milky Way. This is a good day.

  Reid catches up with me right as I’m about to walk into chemistry
. “Ri, emergency.”

  “What.” I try my best, but I can’t make it sound like a question. Everything in Reid’s life lately is an emergency.

  “I wrote it in this.” He shoves the Passenger Manifest into my purse. “But I just have to say it. Last night I went over to Madison’s, and I guess things are okay.”

  “Good!” I say. “Also that doesn’t sound like an emergency.”

  “I haven’t gotten to the emergency part yet. So we were up in her room and started messing around, which is, as you know, way more than what’s happened so far. Like, things are moving along—”

  “How far?” I ask.

  “Like, second-and-a-half base,” he says.

  I have no idea what that could even mean. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s, you know, it’s more than second,” Reid says.

  “But what does that mean?”

  “Ri, this is an emergency!” Reid clears his throat. “So, okay, if you were making out with a guy and it wasn’t good, would you let him know?”

  “Dude,” I say, even though I’m not sure I’ve ever called Reid dude before. “Can you for once not assume that something awful is going on? I can tell things with you and Madison are great.”

  “Would you stop and say, ‘Hey, Reid, that wasn’t good’?”

  “No, I totally wouldn’t.” I stare at him. “Oh my god. Did she say that to you?”

  “No! No. NO.” He musses up his hair a bunch. “Just, what if I wasn’t good at any of it? What if today she’s telling people that? Or deciding never to see me again?”

  “Reid, I’m sure she’s not.”

  “Ri, second-and-a-half base is a big deal.”

  “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU EVEN MEAN,” I say. “Sorry. Just, I know it is, but unless she was acting repulsed, you have nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”

  “How would I know if she was acting repulsed?”

  “Reid! You would Just Know.”

  “Actually… I’ve been wondering something, Ri.”

  I manage not to sigh really loudly and yell WHAT? “Yes?”