“We should definitely qualify,” said Sara Feinberg.
Then everyone started jumping into the conversation and talking about which schools had strong teams. I was pleased with my topic-changing skills.
When practice was done, Emily asked if I wanted to walk home together and stop for smoothies. She’s still not my favorite person, seeing as she’s the one who shared all the details of my kiss with Matt last fall even after I swore her to secrecy. But we’ve kind of declared an unspoken truce, and I was glad to have the company.
“Matt’s super cute,” Emily said as we sat down with our banana smoothies.
I nodded as I sipped.
“I’ve always thought he was into you,” she said. “I don’t think you should listen to what anyone else has to say.”
It was exactly what I wanted to hear.
Wednesday, March 12, 2:16 p.m.
English class
I should be working on a book review of Ben Franklin’s Almanac right now. But how am I supposed to focus on what happened in the eighteenth century when all I can think about is what happened in study hall? We had a substitute who just let us talk, so I decided it was as good a time as any to ask Brynn if she told people I was going out with Matt.
“Of course!” she said when I asked her.
I was shocked she admitted it so easily. I frowned at her. “Why would you do that?”
Brynn looked at me like I was one of those thousand-piece puzzles that are impossible to figure out. “I thought you’d be happy,” she said defensively. “Every time we talk about Matt you tell me how great he is. I thought you’d want people to know.”
Her answer made me mad. “Don’t you think I should have been the one to tell people?”
Brynn shrugged. “Sorry.”
But I didn’t think she was sorry at all.
Thursday, March 13, 10:49 p.m.
I have evidence that ESP exists. I was lying in bed thinking that it’s weird (not in a good way) to be back in school and not to have seen Matt all week. I must have sent out a vibe or something because right when I was thinking it, he showed up at my window!
“Do you want to come outside?” he asked when I opened the window. I tried not to stare as he ran a hand through his hair. It was getting longer and it looked good on him.
“I better not,” I whispered. I could hear sounds coming from the hallway which meant Mom and Dad weren’t in bed yet. “My parents are still up. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble either,” Matt smiled.
The way he said it was so cute. I tried to think of something adorable and clever to say, but Matt beat me to it. “Why don’t you just stick your head out the window?” Then he grinned. “I don’t think a head can get in trouble.”
He had a point. He also had the most irresistible grin I’ve ever seen. I stuck my head out the window, and when I did, Matt put his hands on the sides of my face and then leaned in towards me and kissed the tip of my nose. Even though it was kind of awkward with most of my body still in my room, Matt Parker had just kissed my nose. My doughy, misshapen nose.
“I should go,” said Matt when he finished.
“Yeah,” I said like I agreed. But the truth is I wanted him to stay.
Friday, March 14, 7:45 p.m.
In my room
Not by choice
Very annoyed
I got sent to my room. I find it shocking that although I’m almost fourteen, my parents think it’s age-appropriate to send me to my room. And the reason I was sent is literally so stupid, it’s almost not worth writing about. But I have nothing else to do, so I will.
It all started because I was texting during dinner.
“April, are you texting at the table?” asked Dad.
Technically, I was texting under the table. But I didn’t think that was the right answer.
Mom shook her head. “We have rules about that.” Then she recited the list of rules and regulations that she and Dad made for how and when and where I’m allowed to use my phone.
I looked up from my phone. Everyone knows that an occasional broken rule (especially when it’s one of many that never should have been made) is not the end of the world.
“Sorry,” I said. “It was important.”
“She’s texting with Matt,” said May, like that clearly did not qualify as important. “She and Matt are always texting.”
“Yeah,” said June, who I don’t think even knows what a text is. “She and Matt are always texting.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other and frowned like my sisters had just announced that I always do something really terrible like shoplift.
I could feel anger rising in me. “First of all, I’m not even texting with Matt. For your information, I’m texting with Sophie.” I jammed my phone into June’s face. “See,” I said. “This text is to Sophie!” Then for whatever reason (and I think there were a couple of them, including but not limited to the fact that my parents are ridiculously controlling and that I was getting in trouble for something I wasn’t even doing), I exploded.
“It’s ridiculous that you and Dad have all these crazy rules about how and when I can use my phone. I’ll be fourteen next month. FOURTEEN!” I said loudly. I knew my voice was too elevated, but I couldn’t stop myself. “FOURTEEN,” I said even louder. When I was done, I could feel little beads of sweat on my forehead.
No one at the table said a word. May and June looked at each other like they knew whatever was coming my way next wasn’t going to be good.
Mom broke the silence. “April, texting so much is a waste of time.”
“Having a device you can’t use is too.”
“April!”
I’ve never loved my name, but the way Dad said it made it sound worse than usual. He shook his head like he was disappointed. “You need to take some time and review your tone and attitude. And your room is the place you need to do that.”
So that’s where I am. And that’s why, as I said, I’m annoyed.
Very annoyed.
I hate it when it snows on my French toast.
—Snoopy
Wednesday, March 19, 6:02.p.m.
DAY 3
Today at dance, Emily asked me how things are going with Matt. I smiled and said things are great. But that’s not the case. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Sunday, which officially makes three days with no calls, no texts, and no moonlight make-out sessions.
Nothing! And I’m starting to freak out!
It’s just so weird. Sunday afternoon I went over to his house, and we made popcorn and hung out on his couch watching this scary movie called I Know What You Did Last Summer. We had a blast watching it together. I kept screaming when scary stuff happened. Every time I screamed, Matt put his arm around me and pulled me in close to him. And every time he pulled me close, he stopped watching the movie and started kissing me. When the movie ended, he told me he’d seen the movie a bunch of times, but this time was his favorite.
Later that night, he showed up at my window, and we made out on my front porch for a long time. I thought everything was great, but now it’s Wednesday and I haven’t heard from him since, and I have just one question …
WHY?
Thursday, March 20, 10:54 p.m.
DAY 4
Now it’s been FOUR DAYS since I’ve heard from Matt and I can’t decide if I’m mad or desperate. I don’t like using that word—it makes me sound like I’m stranded on a deserted island with no food or water. But I honestly don’t get what’s going on here. Everything was fine one minute, and now, it’s like he forgot I even exist.
I’m giving this one more day. Then, I’m going to do something. I’m not sure what, but in the infamous words of Scarlett O’Hara … I’ll think about that tomorrow.
Friday, March 21, 6:45 p.m.
DAY 5
OK. I said I was going to do something and I am.
When I went to dance practice, I made a cosmic deal with the
universe that if I could just naturally bump into Matt and spend a few minutes talking and catching up, I’d forever have a happy, sunny disposition that would spill over positive stuff into the lives of everyone I ever come into contact with. Ever.
Honestly, I didn’t think it was that much to ask for. Matt goes to school in the same building, so it wouldn’t have been that hard to arrange. But the karma gods were not working in my favor this afternoon, which is why I’m now giving them a second chance. As I write this I’m sending out a prayer to the universe that Matt will call me.
Call me, Matt Parker. Call me.
8:45 p.m.
Taking real action
Matt hasn’t called. I said I was going to do something about it, so I called Sophie and told her that I haven’t heard from Matt since Sunday and it’s freaking me out. One of my favorite things about Sophie is that since she doesn’t live here, I feel like I can tell her things I couldn’t tell anyone in Faraway.
“Call him,” she said.
“It’s not that simple,” I said back.
“Yes it is,” said Sophie. “If you want to talk to someone, call them.”
I shook my head silently into the phone. “It doesn’t work that way with boys.”
Sophie laughed. “It works that way with anybody.”
10:27 p.m.
OK. Maybe Sophie is partly right. If you want to talk to someone, you should be able to call them, but I can’t just call Matt. I’m going to text him.
10:42 p.m.
I texted Matt and he texted back, but it didn’t make me feel much better. Our text exchange went something like this. (Actually, it went just like this.)
Me: Hey!
Me: What’s up?
Matt: Nothin much.
Me: Where’ve you been all week?
Matt (after 12 minutes): Spring training.
Me: Cool.
Me: How’s baseball?
Matt: Game tomorrow. Going to sleep.
Me: Nighty nite :-)
Matt: … (I think he must have already been asleep because he didn’t text anything back.)
And he didn’t explain why I haven’t heard from him all week. I mean, I get that he’s busy with baseball. Whenever there’s a show or something for dance, Ms. Baumann makes the team spend all our time at practice. Maybe Matt’s baseball coach is the same way.
But still, what I don’t understand is how during spring break, Matt seemed so into us, and now he seems like he’s forgotten we’re even going out. Something had to have happened, and the only thing I can think of is a little, tiny thing from Sunday night on my front porch.
I was sitting on Matt’s lap and we were kissing. “I like these PJs,” he said. I felt his fingers on the thin straps that crossed over my shoulder blades. I silently congratulated myself on ditching my oversized T for a fitted cami with a built-in bra.
Anyway, one minute Matt and I were kissing and his hands were on my upper back, then I felt them drop lower. I sucked in my breath as his fingers moved towards the sides of my rib cage. I kind of laughed and pulled away like it tickled, which it did, and we stopped kissing. Matt looked at me and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it again.
I don’t think he was going to do anything. Plus, he knows I’m ticklish. So it seemed like a little, tiny thing to me. But maybe Matt didn’t think it was so little or so tiny. What if it made him think that I thought he was going to go further and I didn’t want him to? What if it made him think I’m the kind of girl who won’t do more than kiss?
What if I am that kind of girl?
Saturday, March 22, 5:54 p.m.
Called Matt
Can’t decide if it was a good or bad idea
I had a good reason to call Matt. I wanted to find out how his game went. I was calling to show interest, which is totally different from calling him because he hasn’t called me.
When he answered, he said he was helping his mom bring in groceries and that he’d call me back. Then he didn’t call back for almost thirty minutes. I don’t see how groceries for two people could take half an hour to bring inside. At first, I was worried that maybe it was an excuse and he didn’t want to talk to me, but the rational side of my brain knows that since it’s just the two of them, he helps his mom a lot. When he finally did call back, I asked him about the game, and he told me every detail about the times he was at bat and what happened in the field too. He talked for a long time about baseball. He even explained to me how batting averages work.
Part of me thought I should just stick to talking about baseball. It seemed like he liked talking about it. But I had to know how he was feeling. It’s all I’ve thought about all week. “So, it seems like you’re not that into us,” I blurted out.
There was an uncomfortable silence. “What do you mean?” he finally asked.
I hesitated. Part of me wished I hadn’t started the conversation. “No big deal,” I said, trying to sound like it wasn’t. “It’s just that I’m usually the one who texts first or calls. You know?”
“Um, not really,” said Matt. He actually sounded confused. “It’s not that I’m not into us. I’m just really into baseball,” he added.
“Oh,” I said, like that explained it.
But does it?
Sunday, March 23, 4:04 p.m.
T.G.F.F.
Thank God For Friends. Especially Brynn. It has been a long time since I’ve written something like that, but today, being with Brynn felt like old times.
Billy and I went to her house for lunch and our official countdown-to-camp meeting.
“This is an important summer,” Brynn said as soon as we sat down with our sandwiches. “We’ll finally be on the senior side!”
Then Billy started talking about all the things the ninth- and tenth-grade campers get to do that the younger campers don’t, like how we’ll even have our own beach. “This will be the best summer ever,” he said.
But while he rambled on about midnight swimming, my mind drifted. I was thinking about Matt and if he really hasn’t been around lately because he’s been busy with baseball or if it’s something else.
Then suddenly I started thinking about what will happen with Matt when I go to camp. I mean, how am I even going to tell him I’m going? It’s not something we’ve ever talked about, and it’s not like I can’t go. This will be May’s first summer there, plus I want to go. I love camp. And since Mom and Dad didn’t let me go last summer, I’ve been looking forward to going back all year.
“Earth to April,” Brynn waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” I lied. I didn’t want Brynn and Billy to know what I was really thinking about. I flashed a grin at them like I was just as excited about camp as they were, but Brynn wasn’t fooled.
When we finished lunch and Billy and I were getting ready to leave, Brynn looped her arm through mine. “Can you stay and help me go through my T-shirts? I have way too many and I’ll never be able to decide which ones to take this summer.” She gave Billy an apologetic look. “Girl stuff,” she said like that was his cue to leave.
“So?” she said when he was gone. “What’s going on?” She had a concerned look on her face like she really wanted to know, so I told her how I didn’t really see or hear from Matt all week and how he claimed it was because he was busy with baseball. “He can be such a mystery. It’s like one minute he’s in and the next he’s out.” I shrugged. “I can’t figure him out.”
I waited for Brynn to tell me she’s always thought of Matt as a jerk, but her response surprised me.
“I’m sure he really has been busy with baseball,” she said. Then she paused like she was thinking about what she wanted to say next. “I know I haven’t always been that open to Matt. But if you like him … he must be a great guy.”
I smiled at Brynn. It was awesome to hear her say that.
Brynn reached over beside her bed and picked up a magazine. “I saw this quiz called ‘Are Y
ou Friends or Are You Dating?’ Want to take it?”
I nodded. I guess it’s better to know than to not know. So I lay down on Brynn’s bed while she sat next to me and asked me twenty-five yes-or-no questions about my relationship with Matt. I imagined it was like being in a therapy session. I tried to answer the questions honestly. It was torture waiting while she tallied up the results.
I said a quick prayer. Please God, let me fall into the you-are-dating category.
When Brynn was done counting, she looked up at me and grinned. “You had seventeen yeses which means you’re definitely dating!”
“What’s the cutoff?” I asked.
Brynn waved her hand at me like that was irrelevant. “Who cares!” she said. “You have a boyfriend and he’d be crazy not to like you!” Then she stood up and started jumping on the bed. “You have a boyfriend!” she chanted.
“Thanks,” I smiled up at Brynn. She stuck her hand out toward me like she wanted me up and jumping. I don’t know if it was the relief of her acceptance of Matt or the goofy sight of both of us bouncing around on her bed, but I started laughing and Brynn did too.
And we couldn’t stop for a long time.
Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.
—Christopher Robin, The House At Pooh Corner
Saturday, March 29, 10:44 p.m.
I need new clothes
Or a new family
Matt invited me to his baseball game today!!! I’m so excited. It’s the first real thing we’ve done together since we watched I Know What You Did Last Summer at his house, unless you count making out on my front porch as a real thing. I know Matt does. He showed up twice this week. The second time he came over, I pulled away while we were kissing. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird that all we’ve done together lately is make out on my porch?” I asked.
Matt grunted like he didn’t think it was weird at all. “This is our place,” was his response. Then he pulled me into him, and we started kissing again.
I let it go, but it’s been bothering me. Until today!
Love or Something Like It Page 2
