Sound

by Juliet Madison

“Will Damon come with you next time?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. It’s just a girls’ thing.”

  “Maybe you’ll have to set up a regular movie afternoon with him too, huh?” Tamara teased.

  “Or maybe invite him over for dinner? I’d like to find out more about this Damon boy,” said Mom. Mom’s answer to everything—invite someone over for dinner. Or wash the dishes. Solves everything.

  “One step at a time, please!” I waved away their suggestions and fiddled with a tea towel. When it was perfectly straight I left the kitchen.

  My phone pinged. I sat on the couch near Sasha, who was in her own little love-world, and checked the message. It was from Lara, giving me a suggested date for our next expedition. I always planned ahead, but even I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I replied with a yes, put it in my calendar, and plugged in my earphones. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. A moment later my phone pinged again, but this time it was from Damon. I sat up straight.

  Day 3 update: still no unexplained noises or disruption. Mission appears to have been successful. Good work, captain.

  I smiled. He’d sent me a Day 2 update last night, a couple of hours after our study session. The session had gone so smoothly that we realized we would be finished in plenty of time before we needed to give our presentation. I felt a touch of sadness, though, that our study sessions would soon be over. What would happen after that? Would we have a reason to hang out with each other again? Would he want to?

  I suddenly realized that we weren’t Facebook friends. I hardly used Facebook, but maybe I should send him a request? Or would it seem like I was pursuing him? Why did I always ask myself so many questions? There I go again.

  I decided I’d reply to his text, and based on his next response, I’d decide whether to friend him. If he finished the conversation, I wouldn’t; if it was open-ended, I would.

  Glad to hear it! That’ll be five hundred bucks. That’s the going rate for ghostbusting.

  I opened the Facebook app on my phone. I had three notifications. From last week. See? I hardly checked it. Sasha got about twenty notifications on a daily basis.

  Ping! Okay, the deciding text: I’ll pay you with my riveting company instead of cash. Maybe a walk on the path around the headland sometime? Because I really should get some exercise. I’m counting on you to make sure I do it.

  My finger tensed. Well, I had to do it now. I’d promised myself.

  I clicked “add friend” on his profile. Then I looked again at his text. His words sent thrills catapulting in all directions in my body. Like little rockets, or firecrackers, igniting and bursting forward like speedy electrical impulses. Maybe Mom’s electricity bill was being affected by my crush on Damon. If ghosts could affect electricity, like with EVP, maybe hormones and neurons could do the same.

  I texted a reply: Well we can’t have you becoming lazy. I will make sure you do your exercise. Let’s sort out details on Thurs.

  His reply: Sounds good. BTW, thanks for going out with Lara. She came home so happy. With that and the ghost business, you really are a superhero.

  My face warmed. So I told him.

  I’m blushing. BTW, you’d make a good superhero too.

  Damon: Now I’M blushing. We match.

  Me: I was wondering what that red glow on the horizon was.

  Damon: I thought it was you.

  Me: It must be both of us.

  Damon: Must be.

  A minute later he sent another text: FYI, I just changed your name in my contacts. Wanna know what your new name is?

  Me: It would be helpful to know what my own name is.

  Damon: Serena Superhero Diva Delcarta.

  I burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny? Are you actually on Facebook? Did you see that funny video I posted?” asked Sasha.

  “No, I haven’t seen it. I’m laughing about something else.”

  “Show me!” Sasha peered at my phone and I moved it away.

  “Hey, aren’t you busy stalking Taylor?” I said.

  “I think he’s the one stalking me. He sent me the friend request, remember?” She shot me a proud smile.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s stalking you or has the hots for you.” Was I trying to convince her, or myself?

  She grabbed my phone.

  “Hey!”

  “Serena Superhero Diva Delcarta. Haha!” Sasha snorted. “Well, someone sure has the hots for you.”

  I plucked the phone from her grasp. “Gimme.”

  “You have to give Damon a special name now.”

  “What? No, I couldn’t.”

  “Of course you can. C’mon, let’s think…” She twisted her bright red lips to the side. “Damon Delicious Dashing…”

  I gently slapped her arm. “Stop it, you!”

  “Devilish, dedicated, daring, dreamy…”

  Hmm, her vocabulary was better than I’d thought.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll give him a name. But nothing flirty.” I tried to think of some appropriate words. “I need a J word though, because he used one word with the initial of my first name, and one with my surname.”

  “Ooh, J is hard! I’ll leave that one to you, Serena Superhero Diva Delcarta.” She giggled and returned to her stalking.

  Damon Dedicated…

  Jolly? Judicious?

  Aha! I typed back: LOL. You crack me up. I hereby christen you: Damon Dedicated Jovial Jameson.

  I edited his details in my contact list. When I returned to our message window I laughed as his new name showed up at the top. And I would laugh every time I got a message from him from now on.

  He replied: Haha! I’ll be sure to get a new birth certificate. And a minute later, a notification from Facebook popped up on my screen: Damon Jameson has accepted your friend request.

  Now, if only taking things to the next level was as simple as sending a boyfriend request. Whether he would accept that, though, I had yet to find out.

  Chapter 22

  I think I’d had a permanent smile on my face since Tuesday night, and now, Thursday afternoon, it was showing no signs of fading. Who would have thought you could fall for someone via text message? Just twenty-six letters of the alphabet, in different combinations, that’s all they were. And we hadn’t even used them all yet.

  As we finished our third-to-last study session, in which Lara had shown us the royalty-free images she’d found to accompany the slides about each brain wave, Damon stretched his arms above his head and yawned. The sleeves on his T-shirt fell down in crumples around his shoulders. Boys’ arms were so different. Thick. Corded. Veiny. He wasn’t a perfect muscular specimen like Riley Pierce, but he was a perfect specimen in a Damon Jameson way. His arms had a subtle strength and caring quality about them, like if they were around you, you’d be safe. I’d prefer his arms over Riley’s any day.

  I looked away, realizing how lately I’d become fascinated by the weirdest things when it came to Damon. Just last Monday I’d found myself captivated by the way his foot tapped against the floor while he concentrated on something. I’d even dropped my pen under the table on purpose so I could get a closer look. And don’t get me started on the way his Adam’s apple seemed to step forward and say in a deep, chocolatey voice, “Why, hello there, Serena,” whenever he tipped his head back with a laugh.

  I had fallen. And hard.

  “What are we going to do with all these pipe cleaners now?” he asked, gesturing to the array of multicolored leftovers, as Lara went downstairs to prepare dinner. It was her turn to cook.

  “Clean pipes?” I shrugged. God, I said the silliest things around him.

  “That wouldn’t be much fun. How about…” He took one and molded it into an S shape. Then he made another S, and two Ds.

  I smoothed my ponytail over my shoulder. “That looks familiar,” I said.

  “Serena Superhero Diva Delcarta,” he said in that deep way I’d imagined his Adam’s apple speaking to me.

  He snapped a
photo of it, then my phone pinged as he sent it to me. “You could make that your Facebook cover photo.” He grinned. “Nobody will know what it stands for except us.”

  And Sasha.

  “Only if you do the same,” I said, gathering some pipe cleaners and shaping them into his initials: DDJJ.

  “Deal.” He shook my hand, and his arm tensed, and there I went again, getting all obsessed with a body part that seemed so foreign to me, yet so…homey. “So all this stuff has been really interesting,” he said. “The brain waves and sleep science and consciousness and stuff. I wonder if there are any brain wave abnormalities in Huntington’s disease that could be researched as contributors, or even treatment options.” He typed something into his computer.

  “Could be,” I replied. “Are you going to start researching it now?”

  “Just making a few notes while it’s in my head. Otherwise my brain will explode.”

  I chuckled. “You’re so like me.”

  He glanced my way. “Well, I’m dedicated, what can I say?”

  “And jovial.”

  “Yes, and jovial.” He grabbed a pipe cleaner and made a moustache with it like I had done before. “Now I am really like you.”

  I laughed. Then took two pipe cleaners and made alien antennae poking up from around my ears. “And I’m like you.”

  “And,” he took his moustache off and locked eyes with me. “I like you.”

  I froze. My mind rewound. Did he say “I like you,” or “I’m like you?” I couldn’t speak.

  “Here,” he said softly, taking a blue pipe cleaner, aka delta brain wave. He curved it around my wrist and twisted it into a bracelet.

  “I like it,” I said. “Gold and silver are so last century. Wire with blue fluffy stuff is so much better.” And right now, it totally was. “And,” I began, not sure whether the words preparing to launch from my lips would have the guts to jump. “I…”

  I like you too. A lot. I really like you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Or your arms. And your Adam’s apple. And your foot. I’m weird, I know. But so are you, sometimes. Which I like too. We can be weird together. So there you have it.

  “I…”

  He came closer then, leaning toward me, as though he were trying to hear the words before I’d spoken them. But my brain had decided to no longer connect with my voice box. His eyes looked straight into mine, then his gaze lowered, like he was looking at my…lips? My heart pounded, like a hundred victorious fists were pummeling and rejoicing, doing an anticipatory drumroll. I didn’t know what was to be most exciting; the lead-up to the moment, or the actual…

  His lips met mine.

  …moment.

  Ahh. Now I knew.

  This. A thousand times this.

  Forget his arms, his foot, and his Adam’s apple.

  His finger gently supported the underside of my chin as his lips pressed perfectly against mine. Soft yet definite. Eager yet subtle. I thought of chocolate. Of marshmallows. Of caramel fudge. The sensations rolling through me reminded me of those things, and yet at the same time it was nothing like them at all. It was new and wonderful and in a class of its own.

  Move over, salted caramel chocolate-chip fudge ice cream, I no longer require your services.

  I entwined my hand in his as it rested on his knee, and then a gasp broke our kiss. I straightened and looked toward the door, as did Damon. Lara stood there, staring at us.

  “That’s not supposed to happen,” she said curtly.

  My face burned with embarrassment. I fiddled with the pipe cleaner bracelet.

  “I had no prior warning that you two were experiencing synchronized chemical reactions that some would call attraction.” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot.

  “Lara—” Damon began, but she held up her hand.

  “Don’t explain. I know exactly what’s going on, and I don’t like it one little bit,” she huffed. “The whole time we’ve been working on our project you’ve been keeping this a secret from me?”

  “No,” I said. “It just…we just…”

  Why did it feel like we were getting busted by a parent? This was between Damon and myself, it didn’t have anything to do with Lara. Except it did. She was fragile, despite her outward strength of character. She was ill, or at least would be ill. Her comfort was dependent on the stability of her life around her. We had just upset that stability.

  Her lips tightened and she blinked a few times. “You only became friends with me so you could get close to my brother.” I didn’t know whether she was about to yell or cry.

  Cry. Lara cried in our vision. Was this it?

  “No, Lara, I didn’t.” I stood, moving toward her. “I became friends with you because I like you.”

  She averted her gaze from mine, and her eyes took on this jerky, delirious quality. “That’s not true. People don’t like me. I should have realized it was too good to be true.”

  “But I do, Lara. I do. You’re smart, and funny, and efficient, and helpful, and—”

  “Stop lying!”

  I stopped walking and gulped. I’d never seen her have a meltdown before, and this looked like the start of one. What could I do to calm her down, to reassure her? The television was blaring from downstairs and I didn’t know if their parents could hear us or not. And I realized then how overwhelmed with the kiss I must have been not to have heard Lara come up the stairs in the first place.

  “It’s all okay, Lara. We just got carried away.” I hadn’t realized Damon had appeared beside me.

  We did get carried away. But I wanted to keep getting carried away. I wanted to be swept up in the current of the moment again and again and float off into blissful oblivion with him.

  “Nothing needs to feel different,” he added. “You can continue with what you were doing downstairs, and next week we’ll continue with our science project, and we’ll get an awesome grade, and everything will be all right. Yeah?” He approached his sister and gently nudged her shoulder with his.

  She fiddled with her fingers as though they were tangled up in string. Her gaze lowered. “What I was doing was coming up here to ask Serena if she would like to stay for dinner.” Then she looked me square in the eye. “But I don’t want you to now. I want you to go home.”

  I bit my bottom lip to stop it quivering. I knew she was just upset, and that she always said what was on her mind without regard for anyone’s feelings because she often couldn’t determine how they would feel. It wasn’t her fault. I understood. I couldn’t let it upset me. But it did. I felt like an intruder. The welcome mat at the Jamesons’ house had been pulled out from under me.

  “C’mon, Lara, it’s not nice to say that. Serena is our guest.” He took a quick glance at me and mouthed I’m sorry.

  “Your guest,” she scowled. “We have one week left to finish our project and practice our presentation to perfection. I can’t…I just can’t handle anything else going on right now!” She banged the wall with her hand.

  “Okay, okay. It’s all right.” He placed his hand on her arm, though she flinched. “It was just a little kiss. It was nothing. Serena and I will just be friends. That’s all. You don’t have to worry. We’ll keep everything the way it was and get through this project exactly the way we planned.”

  “Everything okay up there?” Mr. Jameson’s voice called out.

  Damon peered out the door and down the staircase. “Yeah, all under control, Dad.” He returned to his sister’s side. “Okay?”

  Lara nodded. “I still don’t want her to stay for dinner.”

  Damon sighed and glanced at me, mouthing I’m sorry again. But it wasn’t enough. My heart was no longer melted. It had solidified. Toughened. It was impenetrable.

  I just wanted to go home.

  Chapter 23

  Damon had sent me an apologetic text message later that night, and I had replied with: don’t worry about it. I avoided him (and Lara) as much as possible on Friday at school, and despite another apologetic
text that night (to which I didn’t reply), I just didn’t feel comfortable being around either of them right now. We would have to get together on Monday and Thursday for our final study sessions, but we had plenty to keep us occupied, and with Lara’s strict timetable, we could simply focus on our work and keep our personal lives out of it. Hopefully.

  I wasn’t really that upset with him. Or maybe I was, and I didn’t want to admit it. He was just looking out for his sister. Putting her first. It was admirable. But I couldn’t help feeling a little cheated, that for the first time I’d gotten to feel like I was someone’s first priority, and then they’d changed their mind and cast me aside.

  It was nothing. Serena and I will just be friends. That’s all.

  He might as well have said: “We just had the most amazing kiss, but you know what’s even more amazing? Keeping my awesome sister happy and comfortable. It is my life’s purpose to ensure she feels like my top priority at all times.”

  Had he really meant it? It felt that way. I couldn’t imagine him reassuring his twin sister like that and then going behind her back. He wasn’t like that. And twins shared a special bond, I knew that. I had it with my sisters. Even though we got on each other’s nerves sometimes, I’d give my life for them.

  I dug my spoon into the salted caramel chocolate-chip fudge ice cream and shook my head at myself. I was a walking cliché. I didn’t really need ice cream right now. I was actually quite full after dinner. I swallowed the mouthful but it didn’t taste the same. Not now. I lifted my bowl. “Anyone want mine? I can’t finish it.”

  In a flash Tamara had scooped mine up and added it to hers.

  Mom was on the phone again.

  “I don’t know why she doesn’t just get Facebook like the rest of civilization,” said Sasha. “Hey look,” she said, leaning toward me on the couch with her phone. “Damon’s changed his cover photo.” She chuckled.

  I took a quick look.

  DDJJ. The pipe cleaner letters.

  I hadn’t followed through on our deal. I hadn’t uploaded mine. I hadn’t even been on Facebook since our kiss-turned-disaster. And I had only realized just before dinner that night that I was still wearing the pipe cleaner bracelet, and promptly took it off and hid it between the third and fourth Harry Potter books on my bookcase. “Hang on, how can you see his update? Did you friend him?”