But before I even made it into the gym, Rachel pulled me aside so we could compare our no-Candygrams with the rest of our friends.
“Did you get one from Oliver?” Emma asked Claire.
“Yup.” Claire handed over her note, and we passed it down the line.
To Claire, see you tomorrow.
Oliver
I stared at her note, which seemed totally impersonal. Polite enough, but not so special.
“I’m so depressed,” said Claire. “He didn’t even mention Valentine’s Day.”
“It’s a good note,” said Rachel, although you could tell she was trying to convince everyone of this fact—including herself. “And at least you got one.”
“I was hoping for ‘love’ or ‘xoxo,’ or at least one single ‘o.’ But to not even write ‘from’?” said Claire.
“Maybe he doesn’t know how to sign notes,” said Emma. “Studies show that with the advent of new communication technology, the ancient art of letter writing is becoming just that—ancient.”
“Huh?” asked Yumi, looking up from her phone.
“My point exactly,” said Emma.
“But Oliver signed my gram,” I said.
“Wait, what?” asked Claire.
Uh-oh. I realized too late that I’d messed up. “Nothing.”
“No, you said something,” said Claire. “And I think … Did Oliver send you a no-Candygram?”
She sounded, um, what’s the opposite of happy?
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“Let’s see.” Claire held out her hand.
I gave her the note. My friends exchanged worried glances.
Claire read it and looked up. “You got a better note.”
“Well, we’re good friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay—what’s going on, Annabelle? Why do you keep saying stuff like that?”
“Like what?” I giggled out of nervousness.
She just glared at me.
“Um, can I have my note back?” I asked.
“You’re always like, Oliver this and Oliver that. We had ginger cookies at Oliver’s house. Oliver is such a great artist. He can play cricket, too. It’s so popular in Jamaica.”
Claire made her voice sound extra high and squeaky, like she was imitating my voice, except I don’t sound like that at all.
And she still hadn’t given me back Oliver’s note.
I stood up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth, I had to wonder, did I? Maybe I hadn’t hidden my feelings as well as I’d thought. But no. This wasn’t my fault and I didn’t do anything wrong. “You’re the one who asked me to talk to him. And he is a great artist. And we are partners. That’s the only reason we sent each other no-Candygrams.”
“Wait, what?” asked Claire. “You sent Oliver a no-Candygram, too?”
“Yes, but its no biggie because—”
“It’s no biggie? It’s HUGE!” Claire yelled.
I looked at Yumi, who stared at her cell phone. Rachel kicked at something on the ground and Emma checked her watch, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. My friends looked like they wanted to be someplace else. Anyplace else. And I didn’t blame them.
I’d seen Claire annoyed with her sister for staining her favorite white T-shirt, upset when she’d gotten a C+ on a test she thought she’d aced. But all that paled in comparison to this moment when Claire—red faced and eyes narrowed—glared at me with a look of pure rage. “I cannot believe you sent him a no-Candygram!”
“We’re lab partners, so I just thought it would be nice.”
“Really?” asked Claire. “Tobias is your partner, too. Did you send one to him?”
I opened my mouth to explain but no words came out.
Everyone stayed quiet, waiting for me to say something.
“It’s different,” I finally admitted.
Claire waved my note in the air. “That’s my point exactly. It’s different because you’re not in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with anyone.” My voice cracked in a way that was obvious even to me—of course I was.
“Okay, look me in the eye and tell me you have no feelings for Oliver. That you’re not trying to steal him.”
I raised my gaze to Claire’s, shivering at their eerie, angry glow. “I’m not trying to steal him,” I said carefully. “How could I do that when you guys aren’t even together?”
Someone gasped. I don’t know who, but it didn’t matter.
Claire blinked at me, stunned and hurt. “I can’t believe you said that.” She spoke in a whisper, like a wounded puppy, and for some reason this annoyed me.
“Well, it’s true,” I said.
“Exactly—no thanks to you!” Claire crumpled my note, threw it at my feet, and stormed off.
chapter twenty-two
explosions of a different kind
The judging was about to start, so there wasn’t time to chase after Claire. And even if there had been, I didn’t know what I’d say to her. She wasn’t wrong about everything. I did like Oliver. But she definitely misunderstood what was going on. I never tried to steal him and I had wanted to help her. I truly did. It’s just, well, I also wanted Oliver for myself.
It was all too complicated and, anyway, I had to find Phil before it was too late.
I rushed past my project with a quick wave to Tobias and Oliver. Then I pushed my way through the crowd until I made it to Phil, who stood in front of his display. He was all dressed up in khakis and a shirt with a collar. Excited and probably assuming that he’d not only get away with plagiarizing, but also that he’d win first prize. It made me feel bad for what I was about to do but, at the same time, annoyed that I had to.
“Hi!” I said.
Phil’s eyes seemed to darken when he saw me. “Isn’t your project at the other end of the gym?”
“Yeah, but we need to talk.” I took a deep breath. “I found something I need to show you.”
And since I didn’t know what to say next, I just pulled the pages I’d printed out of my bag and handed them over.
“What’s this?” asked Phil, his face turning bright red—like he didn’t need me to answer.
“Um, I think you know.”
Phil looked up. “I’ve never seen this before. What a crazy coincidence. There’s no way I—”
“Stop!” I raised one hand like a traffic cop. “We both know that’s not true.”
He opened his mouth to protest further but then gave up. “Geez, Annabelle. I didn’t realize you had it out for me.”
“I don’t,” I said. “This isn’t personal. It’s just not right. You can’t cheat. It’s not fair to everyone else. And by the way—I didn’t turn you in.”
“Good, because Ms. Roberts already said she was impressed. And I’ve worked harder than anyone here. If only Einstein hadn’t died. Or if he’d died sooner and I’d had more time.” He blinked and wiped his eyes. “Never mind. That’s a rotten thing to say.”
“It is,” I told him. “And this is a rotten thing to do. You’ve got to drop out of the fair.”
“It’s too late,” said Phil. “And if Ms. Roberts doesn’t know, no one else will figure it out, either.”
“But you know,” I said. “And you can still walk away. The science fair isn’t mandatory. So just pack up your stuff and get out of here.”
He looked at me sideways. “And what? If I don’t, you’ll tell on me?”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “So please don’t make me.”
Phil stared from me to his project.
“Come on, Phil. You know this isn’t fair.”
“Know what’s not fair? The fact that my last project was so awesome.”
I stood my ground and stared him down. And there were a few moments there when it seemed like he’d stubbornly persist. But finally he sighed and took down his fancy wooden sign. Then he folded up the charts and graphs and dumped the bird models into his
backpack and walked out of the gym, his backpack slung over slumped shoulders.
Even though he’d done what I’d asked—what he had to do, really—I still felt awful.
“Where’s Phil?” Emma asked, hurrying over a minute later. “I just came by to wish him luck because the judging is about to start and—” She looked around. “What happened to his project? This is Phil’s table, right?”
I hadn’t planned on telling anyone what happened, but Emma was one of my best friends, not to mention Phil’s girlfriend, so I figured she had a right to know.
“He just withdrew his project,” I said. “Because it wasn’t really his.”
“What?” asked Emma.
“They sell that Birds of Prey experiment online.”
Emma’s eyes got wide. “No way!”
“It’s true. I figured it out last night and I couldn’t just let Phil— Wait! Emma?”
Rather than stick around for my explanation, she’d run after Phil.
I had a clear view of Emma and Rachel’s booth from mine, which is how I knew that Emma didn’t come back. Not for the judging and not for the announcement of the winners, which is too bad since her group won first prize.
Rachel and Emma were heading to Space Camp. And as happy as I was for them, I felt insanely jealous that my best friends would be leaving me behind. Even though, it turns out, Space Camp only lasts one week.
But I guess things could’ve been worse.
At least we won second prize. Yes, that’s right. Me and Tobias and Oliver each won a ten-dollar gift certificate to the International House of Pancakes.
“Who wants to go away to Space Camp when you can have a round of Swedish pancakes with lemon butter?” I joked with Rachel after school that day.
She cracked up. “Um, me.”
“Right. Congratulations, then!”
“Thanks!” she replied. “Hey, where were you at lunch?”
“Library. I had to study for a test.” I felt bad about lying but I couldn’t tell her the truth—that I’d been hiding from my friends because I figured they were all mad. And that even now I was surprised she was willing to talk to me.
But here she was, looking at her watch and making plans for tomorrow night. “The dance starts at 6:00, which means we should leave at 5:54, so we can get there at 6:04—casually late but not obviously so. Everyone’s coming to my place at 5:00 so we can get ready. Sound good?”
“We’re still doing that?”
“Of course,” said Rachel. “And you know what? I’m glad I don’t have a date. We’ll have way more fun this way. Boys make things too complicated. Who needs all that drama?”
“Speaking of drama—how’s Claire?”
“Oh, she’s pretty mad,” said Rachel.
“Really?” I asked.
“No,” said Rachel. “Furious is more like it.”
“Do you think I should apologize?”
“What do you think?” Rachel replied.
It was a good question, but not one I could answer yet.
chapter twenty-three
sparkly belts, the big dance, and freeze tag
I found the perfect outfit for the big dance—tight black jeans and a blue checked button-down shirt. My mom blow-dried my hair smooth and shiny. And she even let me borrow her favorite silver necklace. But looking good on the outside hardly mattered. Not with half my friends mad at me.
When I walked across the street to Rachel’s on Saturday night, Emma was just getting out of her mom’s car.
“Hey!” I said, running to catch up to her. “I’ve been calling you since yesterday.”
“Yeah, I know, but I was too upset to talk.”
“Sorry about Phil,” I said. “I know he’s your boyfriend, but I couldn’t let him get away with cheating. And having one friend mad at me is bad enough so I hope you’ll—”
“Wait, you think I’m mad at you?” Emma asked.
“It seemed that way at the science fair. You took off before they even announced the winners.”
“Because I didn’t want to cry in front of the entire sixth grade, but that’s not your fault. Phil is the problem. I still can’t believe he cheated.”
“I know. It’s bad. But he’s probably not thinking straight, since Einstein’s death.”
“That’s what he tried to tell me, but it’s no excuse.”
“So you guys are fighting?” I asked.
“Not anymore,” said Emma. “I dumped him. No way could I go out with a cheater.”
“I’m sorry, Emma.”
“Me, too.” She sighed. “But it’s not just about the science fair. Things have been weird with Phil for a while. I used to think he was a super-nice guy with a tiny competitive streak. But the way he’s been acting … It’s more like he’s a super-competitive guy with a tiny streak of niceness. And that’s not good enough.”
“Well, at least you get to go to Space Camp.”
“I know. It’s going to be awesome. And I owe you one. If it weren’t for you, Phil would’ve won, probably. And then I’d be stuck eating Swedish pancakes. No offense.”
“No offense?” I asked. “Um, sorry, but that’s totally offensive.”
Emma gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “Whoops—sorry. I forgot I told you about that theory.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m totally jealous—but you guys deserve to go.”
She gave me a quick hug, and then we climbed the steps to Rachel’s house.
Our other friends were already upstairs. And even though the new Lady Gaga single blared from Rachel’s computer, the room felt eerily silent as soon as I stepped into it.
“You guys look great.” I smiled big and tried not to act as awkward as I felt.
Rachel and Yumi both said thanks, but Claire turned away, like I wasn’t even there.
Everyone continued getting ready. Rachel changed out of a jean skirt and into a cotton one, stepping around the rejected outfits that covered her floor.
Yumi applied lip gloss in the mirror.
“Cute color,” said Emma, sitting down next to her. “What’s it called?”
“Depressed Heiress,” Yumi replied, puckering her lips.
Finally I realized I must look weird just standing there like a wax version of myself, so I sat down next to Claire and checked out her belt. It was turquoise and sparkly—a nice contrast to her black dress. Yumi wore a red one with dark wash jeans and a white V-neck shirt. Rachel’s was silver, which would’ve gone with any of the six outfits she was considering.
“These belts are amazing.” Even though I spoke with sincerity, my words sounded forced—even to me. “I can’t believe you made them.”
Rather than answer me, Claire stared into the mirror and pretended like she needed to concentrate on putting in her earrings. But I knew she was faking. Claire pierced her ears when she was nine. She didn’t need the mirror—she just didn’t want to acknowledge me.
I pressed my lips together, wishing we could talk alone because I didn’t want to do this in front of an audience. But I needed to get my apology over with.
“I’m sorry I never told you about my crush on Oliver,” I said. “I know I messed up.”
“Know what?” asked Rachel. “I need to show you guys something in the garage. Just Emma and Yumi, though.” She grabbed their hands and turned to me and Claire. “You two stay here.”
My friends giggled as they hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind them.
Claire rolled her eyes and then turned down the music.
“I’m really sorry,” I said again.
“Whatever. It’s not like I couldn’t tell you had a massive crush on Oliver.”
“Really?” I asked.
“It was obvious from the moment I told everyone. As soon as I mentioned his name you got this panicked look on your face.”
“I guess I should’ve said something.”
“You guess?” Claire laughed, not kindly. “There’s no guessing. You t
otally should have—especially since I asked you, flat out, if you liked him.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But I didn’t choose to like the same guy as you. It just happened—accidentally. And I know it seemed sneaky, sending him that no-Candygram without telling you guys. I didn’t mean to do it behind your back. I just felt weird talking about it because I thought you’d be mad if you knew I liked him.”
“I am mad,” said Claire. “But only because you weren’t honest with me. And also because I can tell Oliver doesn’t like me. Not as anything more than a friend, I mean.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. And then I took a deep breath and decided to be even more honest. “I mean, I’m sorry the boy you like doesn’t like you back. But given that he’s also the boy I like, well, it makes everything more complicated.”
“No kidding,” said Claire.
Just then the door opened. Rachel, Emma, and Yumi all peeked in.
“Are we finally okay now?” asked Rachel.
Claire let out a laugh. “You say that like you haven’t been listening at the door.”
“Who me?” asked Rachel, walking back into the room.
We all cracked up.
“Yeah, we’re good,” Claire said. “Except for one thing.” She pulled two more sparkly belts from her bag and handed them to me and Emma. Mine was blue and hers was yellow, and once Rachel decided on an outfit (her shiny black pants and a red top) we were ready to go and looking fabulous.
Before I knew it we were there—at the big Valentine’s Day dance.
My stomach felt all jumpy as we filed out of Rachel’s mom’s minivan and into the gym.
Pink and red streamers hung from the ceiling. Hip-hop music blasted from the DJ’s speakers. A strobe light flashed, so everyone seemed to move in slow motion. Some kids danced and others wandered around, as if looking for something they couldn’t quite find.
“This is awesome!” said Yumi.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” Emma said.
Claire glanced around the room nervously. Looking for Oliver, I realized, with a tinge of sadness.
Soon Taylor’s date, Jimmy Brontini, walked over and asked her to dance. Then Jesse asked his friend to dance, and soon other kids started asking their dates to dance. And suddenly, the middle of the room was filled with enough dancing couples that the dance actually looked like a dance as opposed to a big train terminal with lots of lost-looking kids wandering around.
Everybody Bugs Out Page 13
