by Lisa Yee
“Take it, Millie, take it,” I whispered.
After what seemed like a lifetime, she slowly put her hand in his. I wanted to cheer, but instead hugged the basketball even tighter.
“Get lost, loser,” Stanford ordered Digger. “Millie knows how to dance, she just doesn’t want to dance with you.”
Digger looked shocked. “Hey, Stan the Man, can’t you take a joke? It’s just that I made a bet and then this nerdball …”
“And nothing,” Stanford said, cutting him off.
Digger paused, then shook his head slowly. “You’ll be sorry,” he said, scowling. He turned to Millie. “See you around,” he snickered before disappearing into the crowd.
Millicent didn’t blink. I’m not sure if she heard him.
Still holding hands, Stanford and Millie stood like statues on the dance floor. He said something to her and she nodded. Then they began to dance. They looked awkward, but were talking and smiling in each other’s company. After a minute or so, Mr. Min cut in and began to dance with Millicent.
After all that’s happened, I would still give anything to dance with my father.
Before I could get too teary-eyed, I spotted Stanford heading back toward me. I didn’t want him to see me crying, so I looked up at the sky, hoping the tears would disappear.
“Emily?”
“Oh, hi!” I said, still looking upward.
“I need to talk to you.”
My heart raced as I looked at him at last. He didn’t look like the confident Stanford I just saw confront Digger.
“I lied about tutoring Millicent,” he said, his words tumbling over each other. “It was the other way around.”
“Millie explained everything,” I assured him.
“She did? And you’re okay with it?”
“I will be.”
“I hope so. I tried calling you a couple times.”
“I know, we have caller ID!”
His face drained of all color.
I couldn’t help laughing. “It’s okay, Stanford. At first I thought you were being mean. Then Millie explained that you were afraid to talk to me. I thought it was sweet that you kept calling. The only thing sweeter would have been if you actually said something.”
“Uh, like what?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. How about ‘Emily, I’m sorry’?”
“Emily, I’m sorry.”
“Nope, too late!”
He looked like his puppy had just been run over. I slugged him in the arm. “Just kidding!”
Neither of us spoke, only I didn’t feel awkward, I felt content. As we watched Millie and her dad dance, I tried to think of something meaningful to say. I wanted to tell him that I really missed him and that he hurt me, but I got over it, and that I thought about him all the time, and that I knew from the first time I saw him that we were supposed to be together.
I turned to him and said, “I like your hair. Especially the purple.”
“Thanks,” he said as he reached for his basketball. For a moment we both held on to the ball.
“Are you two just going to stand there?” Millie barked. “The band left the stage eons ago. Emily, let’s go. My dad and I want to go on Monstroso again.”
Stanford looked deflated.
“Oh, geez,” Millicent sighed. “Okay, Stanford, you might as well come with us. And by the way, braccae tuae aperiuntur.”
“Huh?” he said. Millie just smiled mysteriously.
As we waited in line for Monstroso, I tried to figure out how I could sit next to Stanford. Yet even though we rode several times, it was always Millie and me in one car, and Stanford and Mr. Min in the other. Finally, on our fourth or fifth ride, Mr. Min said, “Emily, sorry, but it’s my turn to ride with Millie.”
I’m not sure who was grinning wider, me or Stanford. The ride operator checked to make sure our seat belts were on tightly. “Scoot over closer to him,” he instructed. I could swear I saw him wink at Stanford.
As Monstroso chugged up the long track, I tried not to pass out. Just sitting next to Stanford was causing me to freak out in the best way possible. Finally we reached the top and I had permission to scream.
“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!”
“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!”
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!”
“Uh, Emily?”
I was still screaming with my eyes closed. “Whooooooaaaaa!!!!”
“Emily? Uh, the ride’s over,” Stanford said.
I opened my eyes. Everyone was staring at me. The ride operator looked amused. Millie looked disgusted.
“I knew that,” I sputtered. “I was just goofing off.”
Later, after we ditched Mr. and Mrs. Min, Millicent marched ahead as Stanford and I lagged behind. The lights turning on all over the amusement park reminded me of popcorn popping.
“Summer’s almost over,” I told Stanford.
“Yup, school’s starting soon. But at least that means more basketball.”
We walked a little bit more. “So you thought I only liked you because you were smart? Exactly how shallow do you think I am?” I tried to look serious, but I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
“I don’t think you are shallow at all,” he said as he munched on a piece of peanut brittle. “It’s just that, well, I thought that, um, I figured that since you thought I was so smart, you’d hate me if you found out I was dumb.”
“Are you dumb?”
“I’m not exactly what you’d call an A student.”
“Just because you’re not an A student doesn’t mean you’re dumb.” I took the bag of peanut brittle from him and found a really big piece. “I’m not a straight-A student either.”
As we navigated through the arcade games, we stopped in front of the basketball bushel throw. Each time Stanford made a basket, my heart fluttered. But that was nothing compared to how I felt when he won a stuffed animal and gave it to me.
“Thank you, Stanford,” I murmured as I embraced my elephant. “I’m going to name him … Lanford!”
By then it was dark. Millie’s parents were waiting for us near the exit. Stanford slowed down. I did too. Finally Millie sighed. “Before we all start walking backward, I’m going to talk to my mom and dad. Emily, meet you there.”
I was so glad she could read my mind. Best friends can do that. If Stanford knew what I was thinking, he would have seen us holding hands.
Stanford and I lingered for a while, not saying anything. Finally he said, “Good-bye, Emily. I had a great time.”
“Me too.” I hesitated. “Stanford?”
“Yes?”
“Why was Digger so mean to Millie?”
“She embarrassed him big-time once and he’s never forgiven her.”
“Did he used to throw food at her?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, uh, the Hee-Haw Game’s coming up. Will you be there?”
“Hee what?”
“Hee-Haw. It’s a basketball fund-raiser. The A-Team plays the teachers and we all ride donkeys.”
“Stanford,” I said, grinning, “there’s no way I’m going to miss that!”
“Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Good night, Emily.”
Before I finished saying, “Good-bye, Stanford,” I already couldn’t wait to see him again.
SEPTEMBER 1
Dear Diary,
After picking up Maddie and her luggage, the Mins and I headed to the gym for the volleyball league awards. I wondered if Stanford would be there. I didn’t have to wonder for long. He was sitting in the very back on a top bleacher. When he saw me, Stanford jumped up and waved. Millie’s parents and Maddie waved back. I just smiled and nodded.
“Emily! Millicent, over here!” Alice motioned us over to the third row. She was dressed in normal clothes — nice jeans and a polo shirt.
The ceremony was pretty boring. The Serve-ivors
placed third out of ten teams. It wasn’t what Julie wanted, but I was so happy that I led the team in the “Serve-ivors” cheer.
Later, the teams broke off for individual awards. Wendy looked shocked when she won MVP. Then Coach Gowin said, “The next award is for team spirit. This young lady came to us and totally energized our team with her enthusiasm. Will Emily Ebers please come up?”
I let out a shriek and raced up to receive my award. My very first trophy! Millie and Wendy were on their feet applauding, and then everyone else, including Julie, rose. She even gave me a small smile, and in exchange I gave her a big one.
I could hear Alice cheering the loudest. My face flushed as I shook Coach Gowin’s hand and Mrs. Min took our picture. As I glanced up into the stands, I could see Stanford giving me a thumbs-up.
Then Coach Gowin made one final announcement.
“In a unanimous decision, the award for most improved goes to Millicent Min!”
Millie started crying and so did her father. Her mother handed her a wad of tissues. Maddie whistled so loud that the people near her covered their ears.
Everyone was quiet during the drive to the airport. When it was Maddie’s turn to disappear through the security gates, Millie grabbed her and refused to let go.
“You’re holding up the line,” the guard barked. Reluctantly Millie stepped back.
As Maddie set off the metal detector and the security guards closed in around her, she called out, “Girls, remember your promise!”
Later Millie asked, “What was your promise?”
“She told me to look after you.”
“That’s funny, she made me promise to look after you too,” Millie mused.
After dinner, while I was trying out my trophy in different spots in my room, Alice called out, “Telephone! Emily, it’s for you.”
“Hello?”
“EMILY!” A.J. shouted. “Wait a minute, I’ll get Nicole. Nicole, I’ve got Emily!”
“EMILY!” Nicole shouted. It was weird because I didn’t recognize her voice at first. “We just got back from camp today. Did you get our letters yet? At camp there was this one counselor, and they found ALL the letters everyone had written hidden under his bed. He was supposed to be mailing them, but he was reading them! Only a couple made it out! But we couldn’t understand why we never got any of your letters?”
Then it hit me … I never wrote to A.J. or Nicole this WHOLE ENTIRE SUMMER!!! I was so mortified, I couldn’t even speak. However, once I got started, I couldn’t stop. “Stanford … Rialto … Millie … volleyball … hippie … tea leaves …”
It was just like old times, only everything I said was new; and although I was sharing my summer with them, it was Millicent who had lived it with me.
SEPTEMBER 2
Dear Diary,
I wanted to burn my credit card, but Millie said it was really bad for the environment and “even small gestures like that could add up and contribute to global warming.”
There’s no way I wanted to get blamed for global warming.
At first I was just going to snip the credit card in half, but once I started cutting, I couldn’t stop.
“I hate credit cards, they’re so stupid!”
“All credit cards, or just the one your dad gave you?” Millicent asked.
“Can’t you just be quiet for once?”
She looked hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “When my dad sent this to me, it was really special. He’s not big on birthdays.”
“Well, what about that limo he hired to take you and your friends into New York City?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. The limo was full of instruments and speakers. It was for the band, and then he had extra time or something.”
“But Emily, he didn’t have to take you out for your birthday in a limo. He chose to do that. Nobody forced him. It’s called free will. Did you have a nice time?”
“I had a great time.”
“So it was a nice present, even if it didn’t start out that way.”
Leave it to Millicent to logic everything out.
I’m feeling more settled these days. Alice and I are talking a lot. She even took me to meet her psychologist, Dr. Dougherty. Alice was in the room with us, and at first I was scared that if I told her how I really felt about everything, she would get mad or fall apart. But instead, she listened carefully, and any time I hesitated, Dr. D. would say, “Go on, Emily, it’s okay.” And it was. It was just like three friends talking, only one was a mom, one was a daughter, and one was a psychologist.
“Well, our time is almost up,” Dr. D. informed us. “Emily, did you have anything more you’d like to ask?”
“I do have one more question.”
“Go on.”
“Do you get paid just for talking to people?”
“I get paid for listening too,” she said.
I think I want to be a psychologist when I grow up.
SEPTEMBER 3
Dear Diary,
Stanford and I had made plans to meet at The Scoop before the Hee-Haw Game. I arrived first and as I looked out the window I saw someone running really fast. It was him! The closer he came, the slower he got, until he calmly opened the door and wandered in.
“Hi Emily!”
“Hi Stanford!”
We both blushed. Or maybe he was just all red from running.
“Emily, what flavor are you going to have?”
“I’m not sure, what are you going to have?”
“Uh, maybe something green?”
Stanford turned to the ice-cream lady and said, “We both like green. Is there something special you can recommend?”
He was totally suave. Last night Alice and I watched Top Cop. In one scene, Top Cop was trying to impress his date, so he asked the waiter to recommend something special. This was exactly like that!
As she scooped our chocolate mint cones, Stanford reached into his pocket. “This one’s on me, only I have to pay cash since I don’t have a credit card,” he joked.
When he mentioned the credit card, it was as if he had pressed a button. Everything came rushing forward, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I burst into tears. Stanford looked stricken. He handed me the napkin dispenser, but I shook my head and ran outside. I was happy and horrified when he followed me.
“Emily, is anything wrong? We can get another flavor. It doesn’t have to be green. We can get something pink if you want. Or brown? There are a lot of really good brown choices, like chocolate or coffee or …”
“My d-d-d-d-dad took away my credit card,” I wailed.
“That’s okay, I have money. Look.” He showed me a crumpled ten-dollar bill.
“It’s not that,” I tried to explain as I gulped for air. Stanford was still holding the napkin dispenser. I took some napkins and blew my nose. “It’s just that the credit card meant something. It was something that my dad gave me and it was important because it was from him. My parents are divorced. It’s horrible when your parents don’t get along. Oh, Stanford, you have no idea.”
“I think I do,” he said. By then I was hiccuping.
Stanford put the napkin dispenser down. “Emily, my grandmother gave me something I’d like to show you.” He pulled a green jade pendant out from under his shirt. It was on a black cord.
“It’s — hic — beautiful,” I said, sniffing. It really was.
“It brought me good luck for many years,” he told me. “Now I want you to have it.”
Did I hear him correctly?
“Really? Oh, Stanford, you would — hic — give that to me?”
Stanford put it around my neck. I tried not to tremble as I touched the pendant. It instantly calmed me down, like it had magical powers.
“Now I have two beautiful — hic — necklaces from my two best friends,” I told him, showing him the Millicent necklace, and his.
Stanford was staring at me
with a funny look on his face. It occurred to me that boys don’t give their good-luck necklaces to just anyone. Maybe I wasn’t just anyone to Stanford. Maybe I was more.
“Stanford, does this mean that you are asking me to be your — hic — girlfriend?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, I panicked. What if he just wanted to be friends? What if I totally misread everything? What if he thought I was too forward? Was I going to be the first person on Earth to actually die of embarrassment?
“Um, uh, do you want to be my girlfriend?”
I hesitated. “I want to, if you want me to be.”
He looked serious before breaking out in the biggest grin I have ever seen. “Then I guess that means ‘yes.’ ”
I couldn’t stop smiling. He said, “Yes,” he said, “YES!” As I waited for him to do or say something, he came toward me. He’s going to kiss me, I thought. I was so glad I had practiced on my hand.
Stanford moved closer and closer. It felt like the entire world was moving in slow motion. Then he reached toward me … and shook my hand.
I yelped, then surprised both of us by kissing him on the cheek.
He looked shocked — and speechless. But that was okay. His smile said it all.
“You’d better go or you’ll be late for your game,” I told him. “Look for me. I’ll be the one cheering the loudest for you.”
Stanford mumbled something, turned around, and walked straight into the wall. I laughed as I watched him weave down the street.
I floated all the way to Stout’s where I was supposed to meet Millicent. My hiccups were long gone. All I could think about was the kiss. It was like the first time I had a chocolate-dipped strawberry. Only a hundred billion times better.
“We kissed,” I whispered to Millie as I slid into the booth.
“Please, I’m trying to eat my dinner,” she said, making a sour face.
Libby came by with a tray full of food and sat down with us. “It’s on Maddie,” she said. “I was given strict instructions to feed you girls, give myself a break, and send her a bill.”
“Do you need permission to sit and eat when you’re working?” I asked.
Libby laughed like I had made a huge joke. “Emily, I can do whatever I want. I own the place.”
“You own Stout’s?” I stammered.
