Crushed

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Crushed Page 3

by Orli Zuravicky


  “I think I’m still in too much shock to be nervous,” I reply. “Just calm down, it’s gonna be great. Breathe.”

  “I’m breathing, I think,” she says. “How come you’re not nervous?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, truthfully. “I guess because it doesn’t really feel like a date.”

  “Just because it’s not only the two of you? Or because you’re not actually going anywhere?” she asks.

  “Combo meal, I think.”

  “Well, it feels like a date to me,” she says. “Aside from the dance, I haven’t spent any time with Marcus—with or without you two.”

  “Hey, there,” Colin says, opening the door and letting us into the building. “Did you change your outfit?” he asks me, sounding either surprised or confused. I can’t tell which.

  Boys. Again. Of course we changed! This is supposed to be a date. And, while it’s kind of good that he noticed I changed (it means he’s paying attention to what I look like!), now I feel weird admitting that I changed just for the date, because he clearly thinks that’s not a good enough reason to change your clothes.

  “Uh, yeah, well, I spilled something on myself so I didn’t want to come over looking dirty.”

  “Or smelling!” Cecily adds. And then she just continues, like she has suddenly contracted a disease that forces her to lie uncontrollably without any filter. “It was milk, so, you know. She spilled on me, too, so then I had to change. It was a mess.”

  This conversation is a mess.

  “Thanks for adding all those details, Cece,” I say, and shoot her a look when Colin isn’t facing us.

  “You know you don’t have to change completely when that happens. You can just clean it up ghost-style,” Colin informs us. “It takes a lot of energy and skill, but I can teach you how.”

  “Good to know!” I say. “Probably a bit beyond us at this point, but definitely important for future klutzy moments, of which there will be many.”

  “I like that you’re a klutz,” he replies, all adorable. Suddenly I couldn’t be happier that Cecily made up a fake story about me spilling milk that I didn’t even drink.

  “So, I thought we weren’t allowed to be in your dorm?” I ask.

  “You aren’t allowed in our individual dorm rooms, and we’re not allowed in yours,” Colin says, “but every dorm has common rooms and movie rooms you can reserve for parties and stuff.”

  “Oh, that’s cool!” I reply, starting to warm up a bit.

  We head up to the third floor where it looks like all the common space is. There’s a game room (which I suspect is where he and Marcus spent their Sunday), a café, the cafeteria, and a bunch of smaller social rooms. All the rooms are decorated like libraries from the eighteenth century, with lots of bookcases full of leather-bound books, leather couches, and Persian rugs. It’s all very old-world English—and masculine, not that I’m surprised. Every inch of my dorm is covered with flowers.

  Oh, so many flowers. But it is the Jane Austen Cottage, after all.

  “So … where’s Marcus?” Cecily asks as we head into the movie room Colin’s reserved for the night.

  “Good question,” Colin answers. “I haven’t seen him since school let out. Let me run upstairs and see if he’s back yet.”

  Cecily and I sit down on the couches, one of us on either couch to ensure that there’s room for our respective dates to sit next to us. While we wait, I try to distract us by bringing up what I’ve learned about starting our club. (Yes, I’ll admit that the second I saw Colin, my nerves woke up from their nap.) I tell her all about the supernatural angle, and how we have to declare what the club is and what we want our end-of-year goal to be.

  “So, do you have any thoughts?” I ask.

  “On what, specifically?”

  “Well, on any of it, really,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about how we can incorporate the whole supernatural ghost thing into the dancing, and sure, we can float and fly and hover and add all of that into our choreography, but I don’t just want to do what they do in cheerleading. We have to be different from Georgia.”

  “But that sounds like a lot to learn already,” Cecily says. “I mean, it could take months—even longer—to learn how to incorporate that stuff into our routines.”

  “True. But, we’ll be co-captains, so we’ll be learning everything together! I was thinking that we should make our dance routines more like theater—the way we did in ballet.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We would build the sets, the scenery, and the costumes, all with our ghost powers—AND we’d incorporate the ghost powers into the moves themselves, where it makes sense.”

  “That sounds cool. But also really hard. I don’t think we’re qualified to even do that stuff yet. I would have no idea how to.”

  “Jeez, Cece, don’t be too encouraging or anything,” I say wryly. “We’ll just have to learn along the way.”

  “What do you think is taking them so long?” Cecily asks, anxiously.

  “I don’t know, but it hasn’t been that long. Maybe they spilled some milk,” I joke.

  “Ha-ha. Okay, so what’s our end-of-year goal?” Cecily asks.

  “I think we should perform at the Spring Fling Carnival.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly. But I know that the Cheerleading Team performs at it every year.”

  “So, that’s what this is about? Can’t we just leave Georgia and her Cheerleading Squad alone?”

  “Don’t you want our dance club to be way more awesome than her squad?”

  Before Cecily can answer, Colin reappears.

  “Hey, guys,” Colin says, peeking his head in through the door. “I’ve got some bad news. Marcus isn’t coming.”

  Can nothing in the afterlife go according to plan? First, Cecily is suddenly less-than-psyched about our Dance Club, then Marcus stands her up for their date?

  This whole room is starting to smell like spilled milk.

  “Marcus isn’t coming?” I repeat, shocked. “Why not?”

  “Apparently he’s still practicing with the band,” Colin answers, apologetically. “You know they have that gig on Wednesday night, and they only have tonight and tomorrow night to practice.”

  “So he just decided to stand Cecily up?” I ask, annoyed. Because that? Is not cool.

  “Well, the thing is, he kind of didn’t know you were going to be here.”

  Strike Three! We were wondering when you’d show up. So nice of you to join your siblings, Strike One and Strike Two.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, even though it seems pretty self-explanatory.

  “I didn’t get to tell him. I figured I’d tell him when he got home from school. But then he never came home, so … I’m sorry, Cecily.”

  “It’s okay,” she replies, calmly. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask, going over to her side and putting my arm around her.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. No big deal,” she says, sweetly. Just like Cecily.

  I feel awful! She was so nervous and excited, and now she’s feeling totally rejected and embarrassed. I know because girlfriends know these things. Even though feeling rejected is CRAZY, because he didn’t even know she was coming, therefore he couldn’t possibly have rejected her—and right now I’m giving her a look that says exactly that! But still, she’s so sad. Her face is all pouty and scrunched up like she might cry. I have to do something to cheer her up.

  “I think I’m just gonna go home now,” she says, quietly.

  “Don’t go!” Colin chimes in immediately, before I can spit out a word.

  Whoa, slow your roll, tiger! You don’t have to be that enthusiastic.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to send Cecily back to our room all by herself after what’s just happened, but it would be nice if Colin wasn’t quite as excited about her staying. I mean, this is supposed to be a date and all, isn’t it? I was already on the fence about the double date, but at
least that consisted of two couples. How can you have a date with three people?! What should be happening? I should have to twist his arm to get him to agree to let her stay and crash our date, and he should then be bummed out that he doesn’t get me all to himself.

  Right?

  “Of course!” I cry out. “You have to stay and watch the movie with us. You can’t go back by yourself after being stood up. Hanging with us will be much more fun! Hello—we’re going to watch Star Wars. It’s, like, the best movie ever made!” I mock to make Cecily laugh.

  “Uh, I know you’re kind of making fun of me right now,” Colin jumps in, “but just wait till you see it. This movie will change your life.”

  “He’s kinda right, you know,” Cecily chimes in, quietly. “It’s pretty good.”

  “You’ve seen Star Wars?!” I exclaim.

  “Everyone’s seen Star Wars,” she says.

  “Told you!” Colin blurts out, smiling, and then high-fives Cecily.

  He looks giddy.

  Okay, I know this shouldn’t be a big deal, but he’s suddenly more excited about Cecily having seen this movie than he was about us coming over to watch it in the first place. It’s like he’s just realized he was actually going to have fun because she’s here. Ugh. I hate this. Why do I feel like every girl in Limbo has more in common with him than I do right now? First, Georgia, with her video-game playing, now Cecily, with Star Wars. Am I missing something? I thought we really connected before, but I don’t know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is just going to be a total epic fail.

  Worst. First. Date. Ever.

  “Well, Lucy’s gonna love it, too,” Cecily adds, thoughtfully. “This is the kind of thing she’s into. I mean, I literally have to beg to get her to go see anything romantic, or anything that doesn’t involve some kind of fight for world domination.”

  “Right, Cece,” I say, smiling at Colin. “You wanna battle aliens and kill zombies, I’m your gal.”

  Hint, hint.

  “Good to know,” he replies, coming to sit next to me on the couch.

  I shoot Cecily a smile. Even though the date she was crazy excited for got canceled, like, while she was on it, she’s still with it enough to have my back while my date is still going.

  Girlfriends rock.

  “So, Cecily, are you a surfer, too?” Colin asks.

  “Not really,” she replies. “I went with Lucy and Felix a couple of times, but I’m more of a skiing girl. My family would go every winter.”

  “Me too!” Colin tells her, a look of awe and surprise on his face. “I’m a snowboarder, but I love it all.”

  Not that I’m keeping score or anything, but …

  Feels like the strikes are starting to pile up against me this time.

  “Next, Lucy’s gonna teach me how to surf, right, dude?” Colin says, knocking my arm with his elbow lightly.

  I can’t tell if he’s actually calling me dude (vom!) or if he’s saying it ironically.

  “Surf’s up!” I reply, half sarcastic just in case.

  “So, should we put on the movie?” he asks.

  Cecily and I both nod.

  The lights go out and the movie starts, and all I can think about is whether or not he’s going to try to hold my hand. I know it’s silly. It’s our first not-even-a-date date and we’re not alone, so he probably wouldn’t hold my hand now even if he wanted to. And let’s just be honest: The jury is still out on whether he wants to. Right now? It seems his emotions are all over the place like pinballs in a machine, and I’m trying desperately to sink a ball—any ball!—and failing miserably.

  Worst. Game. Ever.

  For almost two hours, we stare at the screen watching the movie, and nothing happens except that Cecily and Colin keep going off about what characters they like the most and what their favorite parts are. At this point, I’m almost itching to go home when Marcus walks in the room.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were gonna be here! Hi, Cecily,” he says, excitedly. “I would have ditched the band if I knew that—dude, why didn’t you text me back?”

  “Text him?” I exclaim. “Ghosts can have cell phones?”

  “They’re actually more like mini Tabulators, but kind of,” Colin corrects me. “It’s called a Tabby. New students don’t get them until they pass the probation period and first tactical exam. It’s, like, three months, I think.”

  “Cool,” I say, momentarily distracted by the excitement of one day having a phone-like thing again! (I’ve been going through WITHDRAWAL like nobody’s business.)

  “So, dude, why didn’t you text me back?” Marcus presses.

  “I just figured with the gig coming you needed to practice.”

  “Yeah … you’re right, we did,” Marcus agrees. “It’s sounding pretty tight, though.”

  “That’s good,” Cecily says, perking up and joining the conversation.

  “You have to come hear us play on Wednesday!” he tells her, enthusiastically.

  I try to give Colin a look that says, “Aww, how cute are they!” But he doesn’t look back at me. He’s staring intently at Cecily and Marcus talking, and either he’s purposely not looking at me or he’s lost in a trance. I can’t tell if he’s mad or confused or just tired, but these pinballs have gone completely rogue.

  R.O.G.U.E.

  “So you’ll come, right? It’s at six at the Clairvoyance Café,” Marcus asks again, waiting eagerly for Cecily’s reply.

  “Yes, of course we’ll be there,” she says. “I mean, I have cheerleading tryouts at five, but it shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

  “Sweet. Then we can hang out after the set. I’ll make it up to you for standing you up tonight—even though that was totally Colin’s bad.”

  “Sounds like a plan!” she says, smiling.

  See, Colin? That’s how it’s done.

  Find the girl you like.

  Ask her out on a date.

  PICK the day and time.

  How is it possible that this situation has gotten so ridiculously and utterly complicated? I’ve been obsessing over Colin for the last two weeks—yes, I admit it. Obsessing. Thinking about our first date and how amazing it’s going to be, and then it finally comes (even if it did involve him asking out a boy instead of me), and it falls completely and totally flat. Is it me? Have I done something to turn him off? Why do I feel like I didn’t pass the test?

  Full-on cry face.

  Conclusion? Either Colin comes from a galaxy far, far away, or I do.

  * * *

  “So, do you want to join our new Dance Club?” I ask Briana Clark the next day at school, between fifth and sixth periods. Chloe already signed up and she thinks Briana will be game, too.

  “What kind of dance?” she asks me, staring at me with her chocolate-brown eyes, her hands pulling and separating her thick curls. “I’m not into anything weird like modern or interpretive dance.”

  A girl after my own heart.

  “Nah, none of that. It’s going be more contemporary, like storytelling to pop music.”

  “Sounds fun! Count me in. As long as it doesn’t interfere with Cheerleading.”

  “That’s a concern for lots of people, so I’m already accounting for it. I’m so excited to have you aboard—welcome to the Limbos!”

  “That’s a cute name,” Chloe says. “Are we going to have to wear uniforms?”

  “I don’t think so, unless that’s something people want. But I figure our costumes are going to change based on performances, so uniforms would only be for practice—and I don’t think that’s really necessary, do you? People should be able to express themselves by wearing whatever they want.”

  “You’re, like, the exact opposite of Georgia,” Briana says, with a chuckle.

  Chloe smirks. She told me I would like Briana, and so far, she’s right.

  “Good,” I reply. “That’s what I’m going for.”

  Just then the bell rings, and we three part ways. With four signatures on my petition, I’m ju
st one shy of being able to officially get this club submitted. I wonder if Cecily’s had any luck getting members, but she’s probably too distracted by the Cheerleading tryouts to be thinking about our club. The truth is? I’m kind of bummed. I expected her to be way more jazzed about this. But she acts so aloof and disconnected every time the subject of Dance Club comes up. It’s like someone else invaded her body.

  Missing friend alert.

  Like today? She got up at the crack of dawn to go practice her routine for Wednesday. And at lunch, when I asked her if she would show it to me she told me she wasn’t ready for me to see it yet. Not ready yet! Cecily and I have been dancing together since we were, like, five. There’s never been a moment when she’s been too embarrassed to try something in front of me. We are constantly helping one another—telling each other what we’re doing wrong—especially when we’re trying out advanced combinations or new choreography. Drop your hip. Lower your arm. Square your shoulders. These phrases left our mouths as often as air went into them. Now she’s suddenly shy? With cheerleading, of all things?

  There’s something strange in the air lately, and it’s making my throat itch.

  At the end of eighth period, I meet up with Colin to get the lowdown on this photography business. He asked me during lunch if I wanted to take some pictures after school, and even though last night was kind of a bust, I can’t say I wasn’t excited when he suggested a new outing. It’s not exactly a date, but it’s progress. And since Cecily is working on her routine now anyway without my help, it’s nice to have my own hobby to distract me. Plus, it seems to be the one thing Colin and I have in common these days.

  “You ready to get your photo on?” Colin says, materializing next to my locker sporting a big smile.

  “Totally. But where do I get a camera?”

  “You don’t. I mean, you have to create one yourself, but that’s really advanced. Unless you have, like, two hundred dollars to drop on a pre-made one.”

  “Pass.”

  “That’s what I thought. So, making one is the only way, but like I said, it’s advanced energy creation. You’d have to account for different amounts and types of energy so that the pictures reflect exactly what you snapped and all that. It took me, like, four months to make mine.”

 

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