Sidekick

by Natalie Whipple

  “It’s been awhile.” Garr holds out his hand, signature grin on his face.

  “Yeah, it has.” Daphne shakes it, smiling shyly. “So what do you say? Wanna watch?”

  “Maybe later. I’ve been sitting too long. Gotta move, you know?” It kills me how he always sounds interested, even when he’s not.

  Daphne nods. “Totally. I get so antsy when I miss training.”

  He tilts his head. “Training?”

  “She’s in Judo,” I say, making for the door so they’ll stop talking. I really don’t want these two parts of my life tangled up. If the team knew I hung out with them at all, they’d rag on me every chance they got.

  “Cool!” Garret doesn’t take my cue. “So are you a black belt or something?”

  Daphne smiles wide, and for a second I think she might be trying to flirt. At least that’s what I’m reading from the way she sticks out her hip. “Almost, I’m testing for it in a few months.”

  “Nice. Well, good luck with that. Enjoy your movies and stuff.” Garret waves as Izzy shuts the door, and we head for his truck. “Now I know why we avoid your house on the weekends.”

  “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t tell you when Tucker has sleepovers, like you’d care.” Tucker is his seven-year-old brother who basically worships the ground he walks on.

  “Good.” I’m glad he doesn’t see it as a big deal. I always worried he would. We hop in the truck, and Garret speeds down the road. By the glint in his eye I can tell he was lying to me about not having a plan. “Garr, where are we going?”

  He grins. “Keira told me she moved into the old Hearst Cove development, but she didn’t have a cell yet and couldn’t remember their new number.”

  I can’t breathe for a moment. He’s never been so gung ho about a girl before. Why does it have to be the one I want? “So we’re going to stalk her?”

  He stops at the light in front of Hamilton Villa. “Not stalk, just casually drive through the neighborhood and see if we run into her.”

  It’s official—Garret has lost his mind.

  Chapter Four

  I stare at the road, trying to figure out what’s going on inside Garr’s head. He’s broken the pattern. He’s never actually pursued a girl. He’s never had to. They always come for him. It started in kindergarten when Connie Yang sat between us during coloring time and proclaimed Garret her boyfriend. He said okay, but then she tried to hold his hand and he broke up with her because that was gross.

  This was also when I learned I was second choice, because Connie asked me to be her boyfriend the next day. I told her I didn’t want to hold her hand when she’d already asked Garret.

  If I want any chance at Keira, I figure I have to get mushy and ask about his feelings—either that or sit back and be surprised by whatever Garret’s planning. “Something wrong, Garr?”

  “Not really, why?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but I know by his pursed lips that he’s upset.

  “You just seem, I don’t know, down.”

  “I did just break up with Mercedes.”

  “Yeah, well…” Now I’m breaking the pattern. We don’t talk relationship crap unless he brings it up. I don’t need to know what he does with his girlfriend when I’m not around. “Seems like you’re really interested in Keira, and you only met her last night.”

  He sighs. “I’m gonna need to invoke the impenetrable bonds of best friendship before we go on, Russ. No telling a soul, penalty is streaking across the football field if you do.”

  He loves to “invoke,” as if I’d tell anyone his secrets. Then I remember how I blurted the Mercedes breakup to The Dork Squad. Maybe the invoking is a good reminder. “Fine, what’s up?”

  “Keira, she’s…of course she’s gorgeous and all that, but that’s not why I want to see her again.” He stops at a sign just before Hearst Cove. “She doesn’t know us, Russ. She doesn’t know what people think of us at school. She was nice to us just because she wanted to be. It was like, for the first time ever, a girl saw me, not the person everyone thinks I am.”

  As I watch him drag a hand over his face, I’m amazed at how right my guess was last night. So I do know Garret after all. More than that, I understand completely.

  I can’t blame Garret for his actions now that I know for sure he’s been feeling like crap, but I still like Keira, too. I don’t exactly want to help Garret win her over, and I don’t want to steal her from him either. Not that I can. All I can really do is be Garret’s friend, like always.

  “I think we both have Senioritis already.”

  He laughs. “That didn’t take long. What, six weeks?”

  “We didn’t even make it to Halloween.” I laugh with him, but I think we’re both laughing so we don’t get even gushier. High school used to be like our kingdom, and it felt like it would last forever. Now we only have months left. Everything that used to be important suddenly seems lame. College applications loom over my head, and I have no clue what I want to do with the rest of my life.

  Garret has always wanted to go to Stanford, and he’ll probably get a football scholarship. Even if he doesn’t get in through football, he’s got the grades to make it anyway. I have a stunning B average, not Stanford material. Though sometimes the thought of college in general makes me want to gag. More classes? More tests? More homework? I should want to go to college—that’s what you do—but if I’m being honest it’s not appealing. Not that I actually know what I’d do instead.

  “Hey, roll down your window, just in case we see her,” Garret says.

  I roll it down, realizing we’re in Hearst Cove and I haven’t been watching my side of the street. The development is older than ours. I can tell by the size of the trees. That’s how it works out here—the bigger the trees, the older the development is. The houses are all pastel stucco, and after one street I can already pick out the four models and how they repeat.

  No one is outside. It’s the hottest part of the afternoon, after everyone mows their lawn and before there’s enough shade to cool things off. At least this weather won’t last much longer. It usually rains before November.

  We round a few corners and finally see life. It’s a pack of skaters crowded around one end of a long metal pipe. I recognize one of the guys. He’s Izzy’s friend, Trent Parker of Parker’s Drive-In. He comes over for anime night more often than not. He’s a junior, and when he’s not skating he’s drawing manga. The others are nameless to me, though their faces are familiar from school.

  Garret slows as we approach the intersection where they’re skating. “Do you think we should ask if they’ve seen her?”

  “I don’t know, did she say anything else when you were talking outside?”

  He sighs. “Not much, just that she and her mom barely moved here from Japan. Like, they flew in yesterday. She’s still jetlagged.”

  “The skaters probably wouldn’t have seen a moving van, then.”

  “Yeah.” Garret makes a full stop at the intersection and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “But maybe—”

  He doesn’t finish. The skaters are waving at someone. It’s definitely not us, since they’re facing a driveway blocked from our view by bushes and trees. Then a girl emerges on a skateboard, pops up, and grinds the whole metal bar. The skaters clap, and as she bows I realize we’re looking right at the hot chick from Parker’s.

  Except now she’s wearing all black, minus the hot-pink, spiked belt.

  “Tell me I’m looking at Keira,” Garret says. “Because my brain is having trouble believing it.”

  “That’s her.” Even with the unexpected wardrobe, it’s unmistakable. Her hair is still pulled up in a messy bun and she’s all legs. They look even better in the tight black pants.

  She waves when she recognizes us, and I want to laugh my head off for some reason. Garret has never dated someone outside the cheerleader/dancer/gymnast realm, and I wonder, maybe even hope, that this will turn him
off. She skates over and leans on his windowsill.

  “Well, well, what’re you two doing here? Stalking me?” Keira smiles wide, like she knows that’s exactly what we’re doing.

  “I just wanted to see if I could find your house, maybe show you around town if you want, since you’re new and all,” Garret says.

  She winces. “Actually, I just started skating with these guys, and I haven’t had the chance for, like, two weeks.”

  “Oh, okay.” Garr puts the car in drive again, and I can tell he wants to get out of here as fast as possible. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time he’s ever been rejected.

  But then she puts her hand on his arm. “You can watch if you want. I bet the guys won’t mind.”

  I bet the guys will mind. They aren’t exactly the types who welcome jocks into their circle. They’re staring death rays in our direction. Even though I kind of know one of them, I’d rather leave than be thrown into that pack.

  But Garret is Garret, and he can be oblivious. “Sure! Maybe you can teach me.”

  Keira’s eyes light up as she looks at him. I don’t stand a chance with her. “Sweet, just pull into my driveway right there.”

  When we get out of the truck, Keira’s already back on the street with the other skaters. I have no idea what she’s doing, but there’s a lot of board flipping. She squats down low, and then jumps. The board does a full spin under her, and she lands on it flawlessly.

  “Dude, that was sick! You’re better than most of the guys I know,” Trent says. “How long you been skating?”

  “Since I was eight, so almost nine years. It was easier to get around Kyoto that way. Streets are freaking narrow. Besides, I like a challenge, you know? And being a skater chick is a constant fight for cred.”

  Trent smirks. “I get that.”

  Keira kicks her board up when we approach. She looks between the skaters and us. “I assume you guys know each other from school?”

  “Kinda,” I say. “Hey, Trent.”

  He shoots me the classic guy nod, his dark brown hair falling in his face. “Tell Izzy I’m sorry for missing last night. She sounded pretty pissed, but I couldn’t get off work.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You know Izzy.”

  He smiles, but it’s not a real smile. Trent’s smiles are barely there, more like a slight face twitch. “Yeah, was it fairy wings or a tiara last night? Both?”

  If I didn’t know they were friends, I’d beat him up for that. “Cat ears, actually.”

  “Awesome.”

  Keira punches my shoulder. “Hello, new girl here. What the hell are you guys talking about?”

  I rub the spot, not because it hurt, but to savor the sensation of her touch. “Oh, my sister, Izzy, is way into anime. Obsessed, really. She watches it all the time, goes to the conventions, vlogs about it.”

  To my surprise, her eyes light up. “Wait…wait. Your sister’s real name isn’t Isadora, is it?”

  It’s my turn to be surprised. “Uh, yeah, it is.”

  “Does she go by Queen Isadora? Is her vlog ‘Anime Kingdom’?” She’s practically bouncing with excitement, as if she’s about to meet a superstar.

  “That’s her.”

  Keira squeals, actually squeals. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe she lives here! I love her videos. I’ve been watching since almost the beginning.”

  “Really?” I say, looking at Garret, who is quite taken aback by just how not-popular Keira is.

  “Yeah!” She punches my arm again, but this time it’s more playful, welcoming. There’s something different about the way she looks at me. I want to say it’s approval. “I didn’t think anyone would be interested in that here. I would kill to meet her. Do you think she would mind if I came over?”

  “You should. Come over whenever you want.” I punch her back before I can think about how it’d look. I glance at Garret, worried that he might think I’m trying to steal her. But he’s excited by the offer. He probably plans on being there when she visits.

  Her smile is both playful and mysterious, like she has plans I could never guess. “I will.”

  And just like that, my hope is renewed.

  Chapter Five

  Though Garret usually drives me everywhere, we don’t drive to school together. He’s got early morning AP physics. If he wasn’t a football god, I swear my best friend would be a nerd. And not the cool geek kind, but the straight-up swirly victim kind.

  I drive to school with Izzy and whoever of her friends can cram into our car. We share an old, beat-up Corolla we affectionately call Puke. Back when it was made, it was probably a pleasant shade of green, but now it’s faded to an ugly color that may induce vomiting.

  I let out a long sigh, wishing Izzy would hurry it up. She’s always the last one in the car, since she takes her outfits very seriously. Along with anime, she’s into Harajuku, also known as Tokyo street fashion. Just imagine the most insane thing someone could wear, combine that with two even crazier things, and then triple the weird factor. That’s Tokyo street.

  Daphne leans forward from the back seat, where she and Colin are reading textbooks. “Do you want me to call her?”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather be late than make her grumpy.”

  “I could run in,” Colin says, always the helper. “Maybe it would help if I got her backpack ready. Or grab her breakfast.”

  I glare at him in the review mirror and he cowers. It’s not like I haven’t noticed how much time they spend together, I just choose to ignore it. It’s probably nothing anyway. Colin isn’t exactly a smooth operator, and Izzy is…Izzy. “She’ll be out soon.”

  “Fine.” Daphne climbs between the seats and sits in front. As she runs her hand through her black hair, the dozens of neon bracelets on her arm jingle. “She at least loses shotgun.”

  “Won’t that make her mad?”

  Daphne shoots me her I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile. “Trust me, she won’t be mad at all.”

  Before I can ask what that’s about, Izzy appears. On first glance, I’d say she looks like a rag doll with the yellow yarn wig and a dress that reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. But she’s sporting purple platform boots, a fat orange belt, and a purse that looks like a Satan Cabbage Patch doll.

  She totally pulls it off.

  Without so much as a grimace, Izzy hops in the back seat. “Trent just called me. He missed his ride.”

  “So you’re not mad at him anymore?” When I told her he was sorry, she declared an apology wasn’t good enough. Apparently, he was the one who recommended The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya in the first place. Izzy isn’t one to go easy on someone punishment-wise. She even banned Daphne from anime night once for missing her birthday. Never mind that Daphne’s grandma died and she had to go to the funeral.

  “No, he sent me this.” Her hand appears between the seats, holding an image of an anime girl in cat ears and one of those short-skirted school uniforms they always wear. Even as a cartoon, I can tell the blue eyes and brown hair are hers. Drawing Izzy as anime was a brilliant move on Trent’s part, probably the only way to get instant forgiveness.

  I throw Puke into reverse. “We’ll grab him on the way.”

  Trent lives a few streets down. His mom usually drops him off at school on the way to her shift at Parker’s, but every once in a while he sleeps through his alarm clock and his mom won’t wait. Like most students who aren’t freshmen, he’d rather die than take the bus.

  I spot him walking to our house. Even in a hurry, he doesn’t run. Why waste the effort? Punk. I honk as I slow to a stop, and he saunters into the street. Izzy opens the door for him and then scoots to the middle. All I can see in the review mirror is neon yellow yarn.

  “Nice wig,” Trent says as the car door slams. I make a U-turn and head for school.

  “Thanks. I got one in purple, too.” She preens, her smuggest smile firmly in place. “I should have gotten the full rainbow. It’s way comfortable.”

  “Oh, it’s so
ft,” Trent says. I grip the steering wheel. It’s not exactly a secret he’s interested in Izzy, but so far she’s completely oblivious to it. I hope it stays that way. Not that Trent’s a bad guy. She’s just my little sister, and it still weirds me out that she isn’t so little anymore.

  “Let me feel!” Daphne whirls around, bumping my arm as I shift gears. Izzy sticks her head forward. “Nice! It looks itchy. I’m gonna have to borrow one sometime.”

  “Halloween?” Izzy leans back.

  “Nah, I already have my costume for that. You guys are going to die.” Daphne laughs.

  “What are you going as?” Colin finally shuts his textbook and straightens his glasses. He is smart, but he has procrastination down to a science. Every morning he’s got a book in his lap, or he feverishly scribbles out an assignment that’s due.

  “Oh, you’ll see. I’m not ruining the surprise.”

  “I’m still deciding, but I’m leaning towards Sailor Moon. I feel like going old school this year,” Izzy says.

  “Tuxedo Mask,” Trent says. “I could do that. Not many other male choices in that series who aren’t villains.”

  Izzy glosses right over the comment with a long list of other options. Halloween is her favorite holiday, of course.

  When we get to school, I leave them without saying goodbye. At Clovis High School, no one knows I talk to Izzy’s friends. I am Russ Pearson, Garr’s best friend, top running back, and popular because of it. I’m supposed to think people like Izzy are freaks. I still don’t know exactly why, that’s just the way it is. Maybe I could change it, but I have to admit that popularity has perks. I never get made fun of. Teachers like me more than they should. And most girls will make out with me if I make a move. I do my best not to take advantage of that, but I’ve had my fair share of half-drunken kisses.