by Zoe Evans
“You still haven’t spilled the beans about Katie being here, right?” I blurted out when Lanie picked up the phone.
“Well, hello to you, too!” said Lanie. “And no, I haven’t. I’ve got bigger things to think about.”
I figured it would take her about two seconds to launch into the latest Dustin story (and I realized it was best to let her get all her Dustin stuff out before I launched into my stuff-that way I’d get her full and undivided attention). But I didn’t even have to wait THAT long.
“It’s over,” Lanie moaned. I heard the telltale “oomph” sound that told me she had collapsed dramatically back onto her bed.
“What is over?” I asked, even though I was sure I knew the answer. I prayed to myself that Lanie had figured out that she and Dustin were not meant to be. I mean, how long was this Dustin Lovefest supposed to go on?
“I just read on a very credible blog that Dustin Barker has a girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. But . . . you’re surprised, why?” I asked.
“I’m not surprised. I’m depressed.”
“Oh, well, in that case,” I joked. “Look, I’ll be home in a day, and we can do a whole Sad Romantic Comedy, Eat Lots of Junk Food, Mourn the Loss of Your Love Day. Deal?”
“Ok. It’s just, you don’t understand what it’s like to be rejected. You already have a guy who likes you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. If she only knew. Yeah, Bevan likes me, but something changed for me, and I don’t have a clue what. But she was so super sad I decided to wait until I was back to tell her what’s going on with Bevan and me. The good thing was just hearing her voice made me feel a little better.
“Lanie, give me a little credit. I can totally feel your pain. Even if it IS over, well, Dustin Barker.”
“Mean,” said Lanie. “The blog said that Dustin and this girl Crystal Myers, who opened for his concert, have been going out for a month! They even shared a soda the other day at In-N-Out Burger!”
“Just think of all the cute non-famous boys who are out there. I met a few really cute guys when I was out with Katie. They were super artsy and cool-and talked about books and music and stuff.
“I’m sure all Dustin talks about is himself. Just look at some of his interviews,” I continued.
Lanie made a noise that sounded like humph. “Mads, people are supposed to talk about themselves when they’re being interviewed.”
“Good point,” I said. “But still . . .”
“I know you’re right,” said Lanie. “Maybe I should move to New York,” she mused. “Then I can meet all those cute boys you’re talking about.”
I almost wanted to blurt out, “Cool, then you and I can both be artists and brood together in cafés all the time.” But I remembered that I haven’t even told her about the possibility of moving to New York yet either. Despite my original plan, it was clear Lanie definitely could NOT handle any of my news in her current emotional state. I’ll just have to wait till I get home and really catch up with Lanie and tell her everything.
Sigh. I hate the waiting game .
Homeward bound! My suitcase is packed, and I said a little good-bye to my tiny hotel room. It almost feels like a second home by now-like if my room in Port Angeles had a baby, this is what it would look like. I even think I’m going to miss it.
I wrote a quick text to Katarina, wishing her good luck studying. This is the final home stretch-the test is just a few days away. And I really, really hope she passes.
Then I called Jacqui, hoping she’d answer, since I don’t have much time before we leave for the airport. It took forever, but she finally picked up on, like, ring twelve.
“So what’s the feeling? You think Katarina will pass?” I asked her.
“Matt, Tabitha Sue, and I spent all last night studying with her. She said she feels ready, but I could tell she was nervous. We all are. The team has even started saying bad words in Russian.”
I still feel a little guilty about not being there for all of this.
“Well, my fingers are crossed.”
“You on your way home?” asked Jacqui.
“Yes, finally! It’s been awesome, but I’m ready. I miss everyone.”
“We miss you, too!” said Jacqui. Awww . . .
I sat at the little hotel room desk and tried to think one last time before I left about what it would feel like to live here. I guess I won’t really know until/if it happens. I tried to imagine Dad’s new apartment, and me waking up in the morning to go to my new arts school. Of course, I’d be wearing the most amazing outfit because I’d be living in New York: the land of ah-mazing outfits.
A knock on my door snapped me out of my daydream. “Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s me, Katie.”
I opened the door to see Katie with her backpack on and her suitcase behind her. “I was just leaving to get in a cab with Mom. But I wanted to say bye first.”
“Cool.” I smiled. “When’s your flight?”
“At noon,” she said.
“Oh, ours is at three. Too bad, we could have been on the plane together.”
“That would have been fun,” she said, smiling.
“So . . .”
“So . . .”
Talk about awkward. I was thinking that even though neither of us would admit it, this moment would probably be the last time we’d hang out as friends. It was a little bit of a bummer.
“So, when do you find out about the auditions?” I asked, trying to fill the silence.
“Oh, it’ll probably be at least a month or so before they decide.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’ll build the anticipation, huh?”
Katie nodded. She fiddled with the straps on her backpack. “Whenever you want more of those cheer lessons, let me know.”
“You really mean that?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. The offer IS really tempting. . . .
“Yeah, I do,” said Katie. “Oh, and I know I’ve said it a million times, but please, please don’t tell anyone I was here.”
“Your secret’s safe,” I said, making the “zipping the lips” motion with my fingers. The whole don’t-tell-anyone thing is starting to make me feel über uncomfortable, though. First of all, I’ve already told two people. And now I’m lying to Katie about it, and promising to keep even more secrets from people when I get back home. But I guess what they say is true: What happens in New York stays in New York. (People totally say that, right?)
And then she did something completely out of character. She hugged me-the way she and Clementine and Hilary always hug when they see each other or leave each other. Like in that casual way friends say good-bye. I was so surprised I even jumped a little. Katie Parker-expressing warm and fuzzy feelings for moi. No one will believe it. (Not like I can TELL anyone, anyway.)
I decided to call Bevan before finally heading downstairs. It was time. I had to stop avoiding the weirdness, no matter what it would bring about.
“So . . . you hang out with those friends again?” he asked. He sounded a little jealous. Whoa!
“No, it was just that one time. But there were so many times I wished that you had been here this week. There were so many things you would have loved to see.”
That’s when I realized: OMG, that was a total lie!! It wasn’t Bevan who I wanted to show the city to. It was Evan! How did THAT happen?
“Really?” I could hear the doubt and hope in his voice.
“Of course!” I said. The words just kept falling out of my mouth. Kind of the way food usually does, but this was actually WAY worse. I felt like I was going to turn into Pinocchio any minute.
Now I’m not just a liar, I’m a big FAT liar. Why can’t my lame brain work any faster to determine these things BEFORE I start saying things I don’t mean?? Maybe I should just stay in New York after all. That way I’ll never have to tell Bevan that I’m not sure I feel the same way I used to, I’ll never have to tell Evan that I’m having weird (and completely unacceptable!) fe
elings for him, AND I’ll never have to choose between the Titans and the Grizzlies. Good plan!
“Have a good flight, Mads,” said Bevan. “One that doesn’t involve cat ladies or movies that make you cry,” he added.
Awww, he remembered. Now I felt even worse.
AFTERNOON, UP IN THE AIR (TAKE TWO)
I was not looking forward to having time to think about things on the plane. Luckily, in the airport I found a rad (see, I can use it too!) book of really hard crosswords (except small note to self: In the future, try to use “rad” to describe something cooler than crossword puzzles) to keep me busy. This time I had a whole row of seats to myself. Bevan was right: No cat ladies = Score!
And T.G., time flew by (ha-ha, get it?)! I mean, I was definitely thinking about stuff, especially the moving-to-New-York part, but sometimes all the thinking in the world can’t help you. Sometimes you just need to feel it, you know? Sometimes no matter what your head says, you just have to go with your heart. As I watched the plane inch slowly toward Port Angeles on the little map screen on my personal TV monitor, my heart felt like it was swelling inside my chest, and the butterflies in my tummy began to buzz. Every little centimeter the plane moved made me feel a little more at ease.
I’m almost home .
And by the time the nose of the digital plane was almost on Fairchild International Airport, I knew my decision about New York versus Port Angeles was made. New York is completely awesome, but I’m not ready to leave what I have at home. At least not yet. Cheer, friends, Mom. I guess it took me leaving to really appreciate what I have.
Woohoo! Gotta put my tray table up and fasten my seat belt. I’m almost there!
When I got home Saturday night, I was so tired I barely remember walking in and putting my bags down. But I DO know that Mom came into my room before I fell asleep, and we got to talk a little. I told her about Dad’s move to New York. She was surprised, but not shocked.
“He deserves a lucky break,” Mom said unexpectedly. I thought she’d be annoyed that he was going so far away from me. From us, I guess. “Your dad works so hard, I’m glad his company recognized how much he does for them.” She smiled as she idly ran her hands over my comforter.
“There’s something else.” GULP. “He kind of asked me if I would want to come live with him and Beth. In New York,” I said.
I saw Mom’s whole body tense up as soon as the words escaped my lips. She didn’t want me to notice, I could tell, but she was boiling with anger that he hadn’t asked her about asking me first. I feel kind of bad now. I mean, Mom just said all these nice things about Dad, and then I went ahead and ruined it by telling her something to make her hate him again. On the other hand, perhaps that’s just the universe righting itself again.
“Ok,” she finally replied. “So, what do you think about that?”
She deserves definite props for trying to be all casual and cool about it.
“I’m thinking New York City is the most amazing place in the world.”
I saw Mom’s face fall.
“But,” I rushed to finish my thought, “Port Angeles is my home, and I’d miss it too much to leave. And I’d miss you too much.”
“Oh, Madington!” she gushed. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me!”
“But I’m pretty sure I’d want to go to college there. Like, maybe FIT.”
“Oh,” said Mom, suddenly tensing up again. “College. Boy, that’s way too far away to be thinking about yet! But whatever you decide,” she finished, trying to be cheerful.
“G’night, Mom,” I said.
“Sleep tight,” she said, as she closed my bedroom door.
After that I don’t even remember hitting the pillow. New York wore me out!
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I couldn’t wait to get to school today. I felt like I hadn’t seen anyone in forever (well, cuz I hadn’t). I mean, it had been so long, I almost forgot my locker combo! I was probably the only person in the whole class who actually skipped up the steps to the school today. It is the first day back from winter break, after all. All around me people look grumpy, because instead of sleeping late and watching movies all day they have to listen to their teachers talk and give them homework assignments.
Lanie met me by the Lounge, and I finally got to tell her everything-well, almost. I didn’t tell her about the Evan thing, but I told her everything else: about Dad wanting me to move to New York. About how I wasn’t sure I felt the same about Bevan anymore. She was really relieved I’m not thinking about moving, unless, and I quote, “You plan on packing me in your suitcase!”
“Hmmm, maybe it’s just something in the air that’s going around, you know?” she remarked, referring to the news of Bevan and my romance kind of souring out-at least in my mind.
“Um, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I asked. “Did the Dustin crush finally set sail??” I couldn’t help the excitement that rang out in my voice.
“Actually, yup,” Lanie said proudly. “All the blogs today are talking about how that girlfriend of his has been outed as a lip-syncher. I totally knew all along, ever since I heard her sing on one of his concert specials. But Dustin was shocked. You can see the pictures of how upset he is all over the Internet.”
“Ok,” I said. “I get it. Lip-synching is very uncool. But that doesn’t explain why Dustin’s been x-ed out of your love list.”
“Boy, that New York air must have gotten to you, huh? Anyone who’s shocked to discover that Crystal Myers lip-synchs is an idiot! The fact that he thought she was for real means he doesn’t deserve my love.”
“Whatever it took, I celebrate your newfound liberation!” I told her.
By the afternoon, I still hadn’t seen Evan yet. We’d texted briefly yesterday, but today will be the first time I get to see him since before I left. (PS-He usually wanders by the Lounge on Monday mornings right around the time I was there with Lanie, but THIS morning he was nowhere to be found! Go figure!)
OF COURSE I ran into Bevan on my way to Mr. Hobart’s. When I saw him talking to one of his soccer friends outside my math class, I hoped maybe he wouldn’t catch me walking by. Well, first I hoped that seeing him would somehow shock my system and re-spark the flame that had died such a painful death in my heart. No such luck on either front.
“Hey, Mads!” he said, and waved. I waved back. He did one of those fist-slap-into-a-bro-hug things with his friend. “Later, bro,” he said.
Then he walked up to me, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. He looked a little, ummm . . . nervous.
But by some strange twist of fate, I suddenly had this crazy delayed reaction. I was just standing there, looking into his eyes (dreading what I was going to say to him), when that feeling I had just over a week ago came flooding through me again. Those espresso-colored eyes are truly a force to be reckoned with. And just like that, I decided I didn’t have to say anything at all. At least not just yet.
“So, how’s it being back?” he asked.
I couldn’t answer right away, because my eyes had drifted from his eyes to his hair, and I was too busy thinking about how cute it looked when it fell into his face like that. How does he do that? Magic?
“It’s, um . . . good, actually,” I said. “I’m glad to be home. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”
He shrugged. “No big deal,” he said. “I’ve been busy, anyway.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“What?” He smiled. “Don’t look so surprised.”
I looked down at my shoes. “I’m not surprised. Sorry.”
Well, I WAS surprised, but not about him being able to entertain himself while I was away. I was surprised that I still seem to have some feelings for Bevan. I thought I’d left them all on that plane to New York.
“You want to hang out tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I said. “We can meet up after practice, as usual?” At least one more hang-out session is in order, to determine the full
extent of my feelings. Right?
“Yeah, sounds great.” He looked at his watch. “Ack, I’m late. Later, skater,” he said coolly, before jogging away to class.
I leaned against my locker, letting this all sink in. Great, yet another thing to be confused about. And I still couldn’t find E anywhere. Was he avoiding me?
By the end of the day, there was still no sign of him. So I headed to the gym to meet Jacqui before practice so she could catch me up on what I missed last week. As soon as I walked through those heavy doors, that familiar smell of stinky shoes and sweat filled me with happiness. My gym! They should bottle this stuff.
I could see that Katie, Clementine, and Hilary had the same idea as us. They were stretching in their corner of the gym and laughing at something Clementine said. I tried to make eye contact with Katie, but she seemed too busy to look in our direction. Or maybe she didn’t want to. Who knows? It’s what I expected. Sad, but true.
Jacqui told me about some of the drills she made the squad do during the week. “And everyone knows the new routine by now!” she said with pride. “Even Matt and Ian finally got into it.”
“Awesome!” I said. I couldn’t wait to see it at practice. And I really couldn’t wait to see my teammates.
Jacqui and I practiced some more advanced stuff, and I showed her some of the moves Katie had taught me that week.
“Where did you learn that?” asked Jacqui, when I showed her the new technique Katie had taught me to make my scorpion even better.
I was about to say, “Katie showed me,” when I caught myself. This was my promise to Katie. That I won’t tell anyone about New York.
“Oh. Got bored. Watched a lot of YouTube cheer videos in my hotel room,” I lied.
“Cool.”
So I guess I am going to keep this Katie secret from Jacqui and the team. It’s probably better not to stir up any more drama for myself anyway. I have quite the full plate already.
