by Judy Corry
She directed me to a shopping mall a few blocks from the exit and told me to wait in the Jeep while she ran inside. A couple of minutes later, she came out holding these huge panda head things that I could only assume were supposed to go on top of our heads. She opened the door and climbed into the Jeep with a big smile on her face.
"Don't these look so fun?" she asked.
"I thought we were going to be dancing, not dressing up for Halloween."
"Why can’t we do both? Halloween is next month, after all. Plus, I promised today's experience would be a lot of fun, right?"
She'd said that all right, but I didn't think I was going to like Ashlyn's version of fun very much. "And where are we going to wear them? We're just going back to my house, right?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't have you drive us all the way here if that was my plan." That sneaky smile of hers spread across her lips. "We're going to entertain the residents of Syracuse this afternoon. Give them a show to brighten their day."
Pretty sure whatever show she had planned would darken mine.
"And where are we doing this?" I asked.
She pointed out her window to the street corner next to a stoplight. "Right there."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was sit there with my heart pounding out of my chest. "We're standing on a corner wearing panda masks? How is that supposed to loosen me up for dancing?"
"We won't just be standing there. We're dancing."
I turned the key in the ignition. There was no way I was going to do that. "We're leaving. Right now. I'll just tell Max we can't do this thing."
"You don't think that sounds fun?" She pouted like I'd just hurt her feelings.
"Why would I ever think that sounded fun?"
"Because it will be with me." She grinned, and I almost believed her. "I’m known for being a lot of fun, didn't you know that?"
"Nope," I said, hoping she'd give up and change the plan.
"Just think of it this way, Luke." She turned to face me, her expression serious for the first time since coming out of the store. "No one will recognize you. I brought you to Syracuse so you wouldn't have to worry about any of your friends or neighbors seeing you. You can learn to dance in front of a crowd but not have to worry about what they'll think of you, because they'll have no idea who you are. Just give me fifteen minutes, and if you're not having fun after those fifteen minutes we can leave."
I put my hand on the key, still debating whether to leave or not. I sighed and looked at the panda head she held out to me. It was huge, and you couldn't really see inside it at all. Maybe my identity would be safe.
"Okay. You've got fifteen minutes."
As soon as I climbed out of the Jeep, I put the panda head on. Ashlyn did the same, leading me to the street corner. I couldn't help but notice that she had a certain skip in her step. I had no idea how she could be excited about this, but somehow, she was.
"Okay, Luke. Just do what I do and try to remember to have fun while you're at it." Ashlyn's voice came from inside her panda head.
"I'll try." Though I doubted I would have any fun. This was going to be humiliating.
We got to the busy street corner, and there were all kinds of cars driving down the road past us. This wasn't one of the quiet residential roads in Ridgewater that I was used to. Instead, it was bustling and busy, and I wondered if everyone in Syracuse happened to be in their cars at that moment. I looked longingly back to my Jeep, seriously considering if I should just run and leave Ashlyn behind. But she had promised me only fifteen minutes. I could survive that long. There were definitely worse things she could make me do.
Ashlyn turned on the music on her phone, and pretty soon, the Chicken Dance song was playing from the Bluetooth speaker she'd brought with her.
"Are you serious?" I asked Ashlyn.
"We have to loosen you up somehow. This is one of the simplest dances I could think of. They tell you exactly what to do." I couldn't see her expression, but I was pretty sure she was enjoying this a little too much.
I just stood there with my arms crossed as Ashlyn began flapping her arms, wiggling her butt, and clapping her hands. How could she be so fearless? It didn't seem like anything could scare her.
"Do it, Luke. The time doesn't start until you actually dance."
I sighed and flapped my arms at my sides like a fool. A couple of cars honked at us. And when I looked up, there were kids in the silver minivan just ahead laughing their heads off at my ridiculous performance.
But as the song went on, I slowly loosened up. And by the time the song ended, I was actually kind of having a good time. Maybe Ashlyn didn't have the worst ideas in the world.
Dancing on the corner in Syracuse ended up being more fun than I’d expected. And the panda heads did make me feel a lot less self-conscious of my bad dance skills. I could now claim to be a professional at the Chicken Dance, and if the Watch Me song ever made a comeback, I could totally whip and nae nae as good as the next guy.
It’d been fun to see people in their cars smiling at us as we danced, little kids laughing from the backseats. The only person who didn’t enjoy our performance was an old man driving past with a huge scowl on his face. But maybe he hadn't actually looked at us, because we were awesome.
"It's kind of like we just did community service," Ashlyn said as we walked back to the Jeep, her panda head tucked under her arm.
"Definitely. If I ever get in trouble with the law, I'll be sure to tell them that I've already served my time."
She nudged me in the side. "You had fun. Admit it."
I couldn't keep the smile from my face. "Fine. It was kind of fun." I twirled the panda head in the air. "Maybe we should wear these for the competition."
"I'll keep that in mind."
We drove back to Ridgewater. I pulled up to the curb in front of her house. "Any fun plans for the rest of the weekend?" I asked, not wanting to say goodbye yet.
"Not really. Probably just going to hang out with Eliana and Jess. Might go to the mall."
"Chic Girl Boutique having a sale?" I grinned—it was a reference to the "boyfriend wanted" ads I’d made.
She shook her head. "How did you even know that's my favorite store? There's no way I ever told you that before you put it on those posters."
I shrugged. "It just seemed like your kind of place. Plus, I might have seen you coming out of there one day last summer with bags looped all the way up your arms."
Her face went red. "I promise it's not like that every time. They had a really good sale that day."
I held my hands up and laughed. "I wasn't judging."
"Good." She smiled, her hand on the door handle. "I'm gonna try to figure out our dance this week, so I don't think there’ll be much for us to practice until I get the choreography nailed down."
"So no practice then?" I asked, trying not to feel too disappointed.
"I thought you'd be happy about that."
I shrugged. "I don't know. Dancing isn't as bad as I thought. In fact, I might almost call it fun."
She laughed. "Don't worry. Once I get it figured out, you'll be spending most of your free time with me."
My chest lightened. "If that's what winning this competition will take, I'm willing to suffer through it."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, be careful what you say, because I still have the ability to make it as painful a process as I want."
I sobered. "Please no tights. I promise not to complain about anything, as long as you don't make me wear tights."
She grinned, probably enjoying making me squirm, but she said, "Fine. No tights."
I blew out a breath and relaxed in my seat. "I'm going to hold you to that."
She smiled. "Well, I better let you go. I'm sure I'll see you at school on Monday."
I nodded. "Yep. Have a great rest of your weekend. Don't spend too much money at the mall."
13
Ashlyn
I set the panda head on my dresser
after getting home. Hanging out with Luke had turned out to be a lot of fun, and watching him get more comfortable with dancing was rewarding. He was tall and awkward, but it was kind of cute in a ridiculous sort of way.
But now I had to go back to the drudgery that was Saturday homework. I may have faked needing tutoring lessons to keep Luke from finding out about British Boy, but the sad truth was that I probably needed a tutor for real. There were so many names and dates to memorize, and I totally bombed the last quiz. I thought I'd done a good job, but apparently, Mr. Phipps didn't want a description of what happened over two hundred years ago in my own words. He wanted me to just memorize what the book said and write it down word for word. It was ridiculous. I even studied for hours for this quiz.
I tried to focus on my History textbook, but my mind kept wandering to what British Boy might be up to. After reading the same paragraph five times in a row and still not knowing what I'd read, I decided that my grades would just have to wait until later.
As if he'd read my mind, my phone beeped with a message.
BritishBoy: How did your project go today?
MysteryGirl: It was good. Turned out a lot more fun than I thought it would.
BritishBoy: That's always good.
MysteryGirl: Yeah, we still aren't even close to finished, but I don't think it's going to be nearly as bad as I thought it would at first. My partner is turning out to be cooler than I originally thought.
BritishBoy: Good for you. I love it when things like that happen.
MysteryGirl: Me too. Makes me wonder what it would be like if you and me ever got partnered together on something.
BritishBoy: It would probably be epic. The best partnership in the history of partnerships.
I smiled. He was too sweet. Which had me wondering…
MysteryGirl: Would you ever want to meet? Out of the Chem lab, that is?
I saw the conversation dots on the screen, like he was typing a response. My heart pounded as I waited for his answer. I still had no idea who he really was or what he looked like. But sharing the things we'd shared with each other had made me feel closer to him than I'd felt with anyone in a really long time.
After an agonizing few minutes, he finally responded.
BritishBoy: I think that would be nice someday. But I'm not quite ready to reveal who I am yet.
I sighed, disappointment washing over me. Maybe he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him.
I decided to take the lighter approach to the situation though.
MysteryGirl: Waiting to have plastic surgery first?
BritishBoy: Haha. The only reason I'd need plastic surgery would be to make me less hot. I don't think you could handle my face in all its glory.
That made me smile.
MysteryGirl: I'll believe it when I see it.
BritishBoy: Ok.
I'd hoped he'd say more about why we couldn't meet yet. But he didn't.
There was a knock on my bedroom door—it was my sister Macey.
"Hey, is it okay if Taniah and I go to the mall with you guys tonight? Mom said we could go."
I slipped my phone into my pocket, deciding to leave my conversation with British Boy there for the moment. "Sure. We can go now if you want."
Macey's face brightened. "Awesome! I'll tell Taniah that we're on our way."
The next week flew by as I tried to figure out exactly what song Luke and I should dance to. But nothing was coming to me. I listened to song after song on Sunday, but none of them had the right feel for us. Probably because I had no idea what we were anymore. After our panda-head bonding experience, we were definitely not enemies, but we weren't quite friends yet, either.
So instead of figuring that out, I ended up getting sucked into messaging British Boy in all my free time. His conversations were addicting, and I could only imagine what it would be like if we were talking in person. We’d already gotten past all the initial getting-to-know-you type of stuff and had moved on to discussing things I didn't even know about my own brother and sister. Aside from learning all about his favorite bands and political views, I learned about the little quirks he has, like how he sometimes eats popcorn with a spoon. And how he always has to put his right shoe on first.
Walking around school was weird now, because each new face that I saw held the possibility of that person being my secret pen pal. Anytime I sent a message to British Boy, I'd look around just to see who else might be on their phones at that exact moment. I'd actually followed a few guys around the school for a while, just waiting to hear them speak with a British accent. But so far, all that had gotten me was a few tardies and no actual insights in who British Boy might be.
"Have you figured out our dance yet?" Luke asked me on Friday during school. "I'm free to practice tomorrow morning if you want."
I groaned. "I've been so busy all week that I haven't had a chance." Busy. Distracted by British Boy. They were kind of the same thing.
"Busy with what?" he asked.
"Um, just stuff."
He tilted his head and gave me a look of disbelief. "What kind of stuff?"
I blushed under his gaze. I needed to get out of there before I ended up telling him about British Boy. "Just stuff. I promise I'll work on it this weekend."
"I hope so. Because we only have just over a month left, and I'd rather not embarrass myself too much in front of the crowd."
"It’ll be fine. We'll practice on Monday. Okay?"
"I'll hold you to that."
I blew out a long breath as he walked away. I really needed to focus. But focusing would be a whole lot easier if British Boy wasn't so entertaining.
14
Luke
MysteryGirl: You need to stop being so fun to talk to. I'm totally neglecting my responsibilities.
I smiled when I woke up and found the message Ashlyn had sent me Saturday morning. When I'd asked about the dance, I had guessed I might be part of the reason behind her "busyness" with "just stuff," but this confirmed it. And I didn't know whether to feel proud or guilty because of it, either. Our conversations were really good, and I had also been ignoring my responsibilities because of them way too often this week.
BritishBoy: You could ignore me if you wanted.
MysteryGirl: That's the problem. I don't want to.
Which was my problem as well.
BritishBoy: You can always turn your phone on airplane mode. I can't distract you if you don't get my messages.
MysteryGirl: But then I'd just be distracted wondering what I was missing.
I laughed. I knew that feeling all too well.
BritishBoy: Fine. How about we set a timer? We can chat for ten more minutes. Then we both have to promise not to message each other for the rest of the day.
It would be hard. But I could do it. I had Jake's party to keep me busy tonight anyway.
MysteryGirl: Deal.
It would be fun to see whose self-control cracked first.
15
Ashlyn
The timer idea actually worked. I still didn't get any of the choreography figured out, but I did get my homework done for the day. I figured I could worry about the dance tomorrow. I usually worked best under pressure anyway.
And there was no way I'd be able to concentrate on anything else when I had Jake's party looming over my head. I'd tried to talk Eliana out of making me wear my pajamas to it all week, but she wasn't budging. Apparently, she wanted to make her one time winning a bet count for all the times she'd had to buy me new accessories at Chic Girl Boutique.
I was just about to put on my pajamas when my phone beeped with a message.
BritishBoy: Got any fun plans for tonight?
I smiled, happy that British Boy had broken the rule we'd set for ourselves. Looks like I wasn't the only one who enjoyed our conversations.
MysteryGirl: Sadly, yes. And I'm totally dreading it.
BritishBoy: Because of the pajama thing?
MysteryGirl: Yep.
Brit
ishBoy: I'm sure you'll look great.
MysteryGirl: Since you totally know what I look like.
BritishBoy: I can imagine.
Hmm. What did British Boy think I looked like? I was so curious.
MysteryGirl: What do I look like in your head?
BritishBoy: Pretty.
So descriptive. But it was nice that he imagined me as pretty. I could work with that.
MysteryGirl: And what does pretty look like?
He didn't respond for a minute, so I started changing into my pajamas.
My phone beeped again.
BritishBoy: Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Brilliant smile.
I frowned.
MysteryGirl: Did you somehow see me in the Chem lab?
I zipped up the front of my pajamas and studied myself in the mirror. I looked like an overgrown stuffed animal.
Maybe I should paint whiskers on my face, find some bunny ears, and pretend I thought Jake was throwing a Halloween party…one that was over a month early.
Why did I have to make these stupid bets with Eliana?
Probably because I usually won and that made them addictive.
I turned away from my reflection when a message came through from British Boy.
BritishBoy: No. Does that mean I imagined you correctly?
MysteryGirl: Maybe. Wanna know how I picture you?
BritishBoy: I'm dying to know.
I did a quick Internet search until I found the perfect photo. I sent him the screenshot, smiling to myself as I waited for his response. I only had to wait a second.
BritishBoy: You think I look like Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame?
I texted back, laughing so hard I could barely type. Good thing autocorrect was my ally today.
MysteryGirl: I figured since you still don't want to meet that it must be because you look different from the normal teenage guy.
BritishBoy: Well, while my nose is slightly more pronounced than I'd like, I'm sorry to say that's where the similarities stop.
