Love or Something Like It

by Laurie Friedman

  Matt asked me to come watch his game, and then we’re going to get lunch and walk home together. I officially have no problems in life except what to wear! It’s actually what I was trying to decide when May and June came into my room.

  “Why are all your clothes on your bed?” asked May. Gilligan had followed them in, and he jumped onto my bed and settled into the pile. I shooed him off. I didn’t want everything I own to smell like dog. I had something important to get ready for, so it wasn’t great timing for May, June, and the dog to decide to hang out in my room.

  But I was in a good mood, so I answered May. “I’m going on a date, and I have to find the right thing to wear.”

  “What do people actually do on dates?” June asked.

  I was trying to decide how to explain the intricacies of love to a seven-year-old when Mom came into my room. When she saw me, she frowned. “Those shorts are way too short.”

  I met her frown with my own. As self-designated family seamstress and wannabe designer, Mom probably thought her opinion was valid, but I wasn’t budging on it. “I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt so it’s balanced.”

  Mom shook her head like my explanation made no sense. “April, it’s not summer yet. Your legs will be cold.” June looked as confused as Mom. “If you have long sleeves on your arms, don’t you need long pants on your legs too?” she asked.

  “I think that top would look cuter with jeans,” said May, who is in no position to give anyone else fashion advice. Her sense of style consists mainly of oversized athletic shorts, a worn out SpongeBob T-shirt, and the Mickey Mouse ears she bought last summer on our trip to Disney World.

  “I agree,” said Mom. “Why don’t you put on jeans?”

  But she didn’t say it like a question. The last thing I wanted was for Mom to change her mind and not let me go to the game, so I put on jeans and made a mental note to never discuss clothing with anyone in my family.

  Ever.

  4:44 p.m.

  Home from the game

  The game was great, but it wasn’t even close to the best part of the day.

  I immediately found Matt on the field before the game. He looked super cute in his uniform, and it was cool how he looked up and did a head bob at me right when I got to the stands, like he was watching and waiting for me to show up. Once the game started, he was so intense and focused. It made me realize he really is totally into baseball.

  But the best part of the day is what happened after the game. When Matt was finished, we went to get a burger at the stand across the street from the field. While we were waiting for our food, I asked Matt if he’s always played first base, and that led to him telling me about all the teams he’s been on since he played in Little League. It was fun picturing Matt as a little boy and hearing more about his childhood. He was in a really upbeat mood. We were talking and laughing. He even made a mustache out of french fries and let me take a picture him of him like that.

  When we finished eating, Matt and I walked home together. The baseball field is on the opposite side of town from where we live, so it was kind of a long walk. As we walked, I was starting to feel a little self-conscious. Matt and I had fallen into one of our silences.

  We were halfway home when we passed through Central Park, which is just the park in the middle of Faraway. It’s probably the only thing our town has in common with New York (and I doubt it even compares). But it has some nice trees and places to sit. “Do you want to hang out in the park a little?” asked Matt.

  “Sure,” I said, relieved he’d finally said something.

  I watched as Matt’s eyes darted around the area, taking in the other people in the park. Then he led me to this spot inside a tight circle of oak trees. It was cool and shady, and I don’t think anyone could see us through the trees.

  He took my hand, and as we sat on the ground, he pulled me into his lap and started kissing me. It was exciting to think that we were in the park and that other people could be passing by but not see us. And kissing Matt in the park felt different from kissing him on my front porch.

  His body was still warm from the game, and as we kissed, I put my hands around his neck. His tongue made its way slowly into my mouth. I felt Matt shudder as I wound my fingers into the hairs that had curled up at the base of his neck. He pulled me closer to him. I think it was his way of showing me how much he liked kissing me. I let my fingers slip lower, just inside the neckline of his jersey.

  The next thing I knew, his lips were on the side of my neck. I wasn’t sure what I should do. I didn’t move as Matt gently kissed the side of my neck. I felt my body melting into his.

  When he was done, Matt looked at me in his intense way. All I remember thinking was that his eyes were the bluest, most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. Then our lips met again, and this time when we kissed, our tongues wound around each other. We kissed like that for a long time.

  As we stood to leave, Matt did another scan of the area. I think he wanted to be double sure no one had seen us. I could hardly breathe. As we walked home, I was the quiet one for a change. It was like I was under a spell, a Matt Parker spell. Unfortunately it was broken the minute I got back. Mom met me at the door. “Did you have fun?” she asked.

  But the way she looked at me made me feel like she wanted to know a whole lot more.

  5:19 p.m.

  I can’t stop thinking about Matt.

  Billy just called to say hi. It’s crazy—the way I felt about Billy when we were going out was so different. He was like my best friend. I always had fun with him, but he didn’t give me butterflies the way Matt does. Ugh! Did I really just use that phrase? I can’t think of another way to describe it. And I literally can’t stop thinking about Matt. It’s like my brain is incapable of thinking about anything else. Even when I was talking to Billy, the only thing on my mind was … Matt.

  I’m not sure what love is, but I think I’m in it.

  You can have it all. You just can’t have it all at the same time.

  —Oprah Winfrey

  Sunday, March 30, 2:04 p.m.

  Back from lunch

  OMG!

  I should have said NO when Mom came into my room this morning and asked if I’d like to go for a special mother-daughter lunch. But in all fairness to myself, I would have had no way of knowing what she wanted to talk about. No offense to Chili’s, but I’m not sure I’ll ever go back after the seriously scarring conversation I had with Mom there. As soon as the waitress put down our platter of fajitas, Mom looked at me and said, “April, I’d like to talk to you as a woman, not as your mother.”

  I couldn’t believe she’d actually said that. If I hadn’t been so hungry, I would have gotten up and left. I should have.

  “It looks like you and Matt are getting serious,” said Mom. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

  Yes. One. Can you stop talking and start eating? But I didn’t think I should ask it.

  Things went downhill from there. “Are you just kissing?” asked Mom. “Or are you two trying other things? You know, Matt is older than you are.” I don’t think she meant for them to, but Mom’s eyes actually drifted to my chest when she said it.

  I shrunk backwards into the booth and stuffed a chip into my mouth. Did my mom seriously ask me that? “He’s in ninth grade, Mom, not college,” I said when I’d finished chewing.

  “I know,” she said. “I just want to be sure he’s not trying to pressure you into doing things you’re not ready for.”

  I shook my head like he wasn’t. I couldn’t help thinking about the incident on my front porch, but it wasn’t something I was about to bring up with Mom.

  “I’m sure you and your friends talk about these sorts of things, but young girls don’t always have accurate facts,” Mom said without missing a beat. Then she paused. “April, you can come to me anytime you need information.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, like I’d do that if I needed to. But what I really needed was for the waitress to bring the che
ck.

  Fast.

  Thursday, April 3, 10:45 p.m.

  Exhausted

  I’m totally tired. All week, we’ve had extra-long dance practices so we’re ready for the competition this Saturday. Plus, Matt came to my front porch Saturday, Sunday, and Monday nights. By Tuesday, it was actually starting to bother me.

  I wasn’t opposed to the fact that Matt was coming to see me. Since the day at the park, we’ve been having fun again like we did over spring break, and I guess he felt it too. But still, it seemed like all we ever do is make out.

  So Tuesday night, I stopped kissing and started talking. I brought up topics I thought Matt would be interested in. I brought up baseball and school. I even asked him why his dog is named Matilda. I’d been wondering for a while. But when I asked him that, he didn’t have much to say. I mean, he told me that he saw the movie when he was little and that he liked it. But he didn’t tell me what it had to do with his dog.

  I kind of have my own theory.

  Matilda had special powers that helped her get rid of her evil parents. Given what Matt told me earlier this spring about his dad being abusive, and how he and his mom left when things got too bad, I thought maybe he named his dog Matilda because in some way he could relate. But that’s just my idea.

  Anyway, since that night, he hasn’t called or texted, and it bothers me. I know if I said something, he’d say I’m being silly, that we go to school all day, then I have dance and he has baseball.

  But still, it bothers me.

  Friday, April 4, 4:47 p.m.

  Dress rehearsal

  Break time

  When I got to the high school for dress rehearsal, I ran into Matt. He was leaving the gym as I was walking in. He’s always at the baseball field after school, so I almost never see him when I go to dance. We stopped and talked, and I showed him my costume for the competition.

  He leaned toward me. “I bet it looks cute on you,” he said.

  I was about to say something flirty back when Ms. Baumann, who was on the other side of the gym, blew her whistle at me. “April, get dressed! You’re here to dance, and you’re holding us up,” she yelled in my direction.

  “She sounds like a bitch,” Matt whispered.

  “She can be,” I said.

  Matt did his head-bob thing. “You better go.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled like I agreed. But it was the first place I’d seen him all week, other than my front porch, and all I wanted to do was stay.

  10:32 p.m.

  In bed

  For the second time tonight

  I was so tired when I got home from dance. Ms. Baumann was in such a horrible mood today, and she made us go over our dances for tomorrow so many times. She kept looking at me like she was mad about what happened with Matt when I got to the gym. I asked Emily, who had seen the whole thing, if she thought that was why Ms. Baumann was acting the way she was.

  Emily shook her head. “She was in a bathroom stall for our entire break,” she said. “She either has diarrhea or tampon issues.” I cracked up when she said that, and Ms. Baumann shot another look my way. I knew I had to be on my game for the rest of rehearsal. Which I was, and which is also why I was so tired and got in bed early tonight.

  I was almost asleep when I heard the knock. I have to get up so early in the morning that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get out of bed, but I did. When I opened the window, Matt grinned. “What’s up?” he asked as he helped me out of my room. His question irritated me. I didn’t think I should have to remind him that I have the competition tomorrow. I crossed my arms across my chest. “I was sleeping.”

  Matt sucked in his breath like my response was too sharp. “Ouch!” He pouted and then made a face like a puppy that’s been scolded. “Why the bad mood, California?”

  One minute I’d been irritated, and the next I felt bad. How could I not when his face was all scrunched up as cutely as it was? Plus, he hasn’t called me California in a while—the nickname he gave me the day he saw me sunbathing and squeezing lemons on my hair for highlights. He told me I smelled like the lemon trees back home.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m just nervous about tomorrow.”

  Matt smiled and then ran a hand through his hair. He looked particularly cute when he did it. “Don’t worry. You’ll be great,” he said. Then he started kissing me.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled between kisses. But I couldn’t help thinking that I’d be even better if I got some sleep.

  Saturday, April 5, 8:32 p.m.

  In the bathtub

  Where I plan to stay for a long time

  Report on the dance team competition at Districts today: we did fine. Not our best performance, but not our worst either. Some people danced better than others. Unfortunately, I was in the others category. There were a lot of little things wrong with my performance. I could tell that my dancing was off, and it bothered me.

  It clearly bothered Ms. Baumann, too, because as we were packing up to get back on the bus, she pulled me aside to talk. I felt my stomach churning as she started talking. A one-on-one with Ms. Baumann generally isn’t a good thing.

  “April, dance is about focus. Consistent focus. If you want to be good, you need to make dance your top priority.” Ms. Baumann is taller than I am, and when she looked down at me I felt even smaller. I knew what she meant was if I want to be a good dancer, I need to get my head in the game and stop thinking about that boy I was flirting with in the gym the other day.

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Baumann, I’m totally into dance,” I said.

  But as I finished packing my bag to leave, I couldn’t stop thinking about our talk. The truth is that I’m not totally into dance. I was when we first started. All I wanted to do was to make the team and improve. When I wasn’t dancing, I was thinking about dancing. I wanted to be good, and I didn’t even mind all the hours of practice. Even when I was going out with Billy, my main priority was dance. He used to complain that that’s all I ever did.

  But that’s not what I care the most about anymore. I don’t even like admitting this, but Matt is. It’s not like I planned it that way, it just happened. Still, I feel like it’s wrong in some way or it makes me less me. That thought was weighing me down as I got on the bus.

  “What’s up?” asked Emily as she sat down on the seat next to me. “I saw you talking to Ms. Baumann. Is she pissed? Are you upset?” “No,” I lied. I didn’t want to tell her what Ms. Baumann said or what was on my mind. Emily would totally get why I’m into Matt, but she’s an amazing dancer and is always really into it. I bet she would say I should make both things my priority.

  But it’s like my brain will only let me think about Matt.

  I literally think about him all the time. Just like I used to think about dance.

  I don’t get how a brain can be so into one thing one minute and so into something else the next. And the more I thought about it, the more it scared me because if my brain can be like that, so can other people’s. And the other person I was thinking about was Matt.

  Over spring break he was totally into me, but then when baseball season started, his focus shifted. Can a person really have two priorities at the same time?

  Even if a person can be into two things at the same time, they definitely can’t be two places at the same time. Thoughts of this summer crept into my brain. I couldn’t help thinking what it will be like if my body is at camp but my brain is still in Faraway, with Matt Parker.

  It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.

  —e.e. cummings

  Sunday, April 6, 7:54 p.m.

  The real countdown begins—

  To my 14th birthday!

  I can’t believe I’m turning fourteen in two weeks. At least it won’t be hard to improve on last year’s birthday debacle, when May and June utterly humiliated me in front of Matt the very first time I met him.

  But if the suggestions I got tonight are any indication of how bad this year’s celebration is go
ing to be, I should hang it up and just stay thirteen. My whole family was at Gaga and Willy’s for dinner, and my birthday was the main topic of conversation. Everyone had opinions (even though I never asked for any) on how I should celebrate. Most of their suggestions left me without a response. Or at least, a response I could say out loud. “Why don’t you have a scavenger hunt?” suggested my Aunt Lila.

  “Or a real hunt,” said my Uncle Drew.

  As if either of those options was viable.

  “How about a fishing party,” said Uncle Dusty.

  “You could have a Hello Kitty party!” said my cousin Charlotte.

  Izzy agreed. “That’s what we had, and it was super fun.”

  I broke my silence, but just to be nice to Charlotte and Izzy, who are only five. “I think I’m a little old for a Hello Kitty party,” I said.

  Izzy looked defeated when I said that, but not Charlotte. “You could have an Easter egg hunt,” she said.

  Izzy nodded like she liked that idea. “We love Easter egg hunts.”

  “Yeah, they’re really fun,” June chimed in.

  “Yeah,” I said, at least agreeing with them that Easter egg hunts are fun, which they are when you’re five or seven, but not at fourteen.

  My cousin Harry jumped in. “Why don’t you NOT celebrate this year,” he said. “For me, fourteen totally sucked.”

  “Harry!” his parents said at the same time. I wasn’t sure if Aunt Lilly and Uncle Dusty were calling him out because he said sucked in front of Charlotte and Izzy or because they’re on a campaign to try to get him to think more positively.

  “How about a makeup party at the mall?” said Amanda.

  I looked at her overly blackened eyes and bright scarlet lips. I was in sixth grade once too, but (a) I was never as into makeup as she is, and (b) even if I had been, my mom would never have let me out of the house like that.

  “Would you like to have a knitting party?” asked Gaga. “You can invite a small group of friends over here, and I’d be happy to teach you all how to knit.”