by Jaclyn Weist
I met her eyes and shrugged. “He looks at me like he always has.”
Mom raised an eyebrow. “And how is that?”
“I don’t know. Like Max.” I moved away from her. “It’s Max. He wants to hear how my day went. I want to know how his went. We drive to school together. We tell each other everything. Just like it’s been since I was five. Well, except me driving. But that’s beside the point.”
“Do you think it’s at all possible that sometime in those twelve years his feelings for you might have changed?” Dad’s voice was quiet, but the words hit me like a freight train.
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. He dated Anna for six months for crying out loud.”
Mom laughed. “Yes, and how often did he prefer to hang out with you over his girlfriend? Anna pretty much dated him to make her crush jealous, and he dated her because you didn’t see him as more than just a friend.”
“Uh . . . what? How do you know that?” This tiny room seemed to be growing tinier.
“Please. I’ve known his mom longer than you two have been friends.” Mom smirked. “I guessed on his part, but I know about Anna because I was talking to his mom when he got home from school.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything? I had no idea they even broke up.”
“Because you were too busy. And because I knew you’d have this reaction.”
A crackle interrupted our conversation. Dad went to a cupboard and pulled out a radio, putting a finger to his lips. “Repeat.”
“We have a man down. They . . . the school . . . everyone safe as far . . . we need backup.”
My heart froze. “They’re at the school?”
Dad stalked over to the where the door was supposed to be and knocked. Silence. He knocked again and cursed when no one answered. “They can’t hear us.”
“Well, radio them then.” I grabbed it off the table and shoved it at him. “We have to go help.”
“We can’t. It’s sealed for a reason.” This time it was Dad’s turn to pace. “Is my family safe?”
Silence for a moment. “We believe . . . are. Working on . . . more about what’s going . . . Stay quiet.”
I curled up in a ball on the couch. If anything happened to anyone. While Mom and Dad spoke softly in a corner, I grabbed my phone off the table and turned it on.
Hey, are you guys okay?
Heather responded first. Yeah, why?
There’s nothing going on there? Strange, but it allowed me to relax a little.
Well, besides Brandon and Ellie getting crowned, no. What’s supposed to be happening?
Max responded next. Is everything okay? We hadn’t heard anything for a while.
Yeah, I had to turn off my phone. Dad’s back.
Heather sent a few emojis followed by That’s great!!!
Not really. Just . . . stay where you are. If you hear anything going on outside, hide.
There, that wouldn’t scare them at all. I started to type, but Dad ripped the phone from my hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if my friends are okay. Heather and Max said nothing’s happening there. Maybe the bad guy went to the wrong school?”
Dad shook his head. “I doubt it. Just . . . don’t respond until we know what’s going on.”
“Fine.” I grabbed another bag of chips and opened them, trying to drown my worry in sour cream and onion yumminess.
But it wouldn’t go away. My friends, my date, everyone was out there. And I needed everyone to be okay, because I needed to know that my mom and dad were right. Or wrong. I didn’t care. If it was really Max sending those emails, I needed to know.
It was another day and a half before we finally got the okay to leave the small safe room. Everyone was behind bars, Dad was being hailed as a hero, and my mom and I were shoved into the background, so we didn’t have to have the media around us.
Not that it would stop them.
Nothing was sweeter than walking—well, running—into my house and up to my very own bedroom. Where the windows showed what was actually going on outside. Where my poor computer would slowly turn on to my favorite apps instead of the sterile desktop of the other laptop. They’d offered to let me keep it, but I wanted mine. It had my life on there, after all.
Mom told me not to say anything to Max until he came forward. She had a point, but it was killing me. I had to know.
The dance may have been over, but I still had the play to deal with. I had just enough time to shower before running to school for practice. I would try to talk to Mr. Reynolds about the paper after that. Prom was coming up in the next few months, and we needed to decide if I was going to use the same column for that one.
Play practice was underway when I got inside the auditorium. I had to say, I was impressed by how far it had come in the last week and a half. We would maybe even sound somewhat professional by the time the show started in a few weeks.
“Ah, Ms. Lopez. You’re back. I do hope the flu hasn’t messed with your singing?” Mrs. Carrington looked at me over her glasses.
“No, I should be fine.” I went up onstage and held tightly to my script. Sitting in protective custody meant I had time to practice my lines, but I didn’t want to forget any of them.
I waved at Heather who stared at me in surprise, then turned back to Mrs. Carrington. I didn’t want to mention I was back until I knew for sure I could go to school. Too many things had been ruined, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
“Very good. Ethan? Ethan! Does anyone know where he went? Ah, there you are. Let’s work on the scene at the bakery.”
He nodded and moved into position. All the nerves and emotion from what had happened slowly washed away as we spoke our lines. Ethan started out quiet, but slowly eased into his part as we went, and by the time the scene was done, cheers erupted.
I grinned. “Great job, Ethan.”
“Thanks. You were good too.” He left to change for the next scene, and I stood waiting for the next scene to start.
“You’re back.” Max stood to the side, his eyes wide.
I nodded. “Sorry I didn’t say anything. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
He grinned. “I thought you’d be stuck in—your flu—until graduation at least.”
“So did I.” I cleared my throat. From what I could tell, nothing had really changed on his side, but I know I was seeing him a little differently. Mom had gotten in my head, making me analyze his every movement.
“Ah, Max. I was just about to call for you. We’re way behind on the scenes with the baker’s wife. Why don’t we do your scene now and then we’ll move to Red Riding Hood.” Mrs. Carrington wrote something in her clipboard, completely oblivious to the run of emotions her words had sent through me.
The first few lines played, and Max’s rich baritone filled the stage. I wasn’t quite acting as I moved away from him, making it look like I was playing my part. And this time, when he pulled me into his arms as the prince, there was a slight smile on his lips as he leaned forward to kiss me. It was soft and sweet, but I pushed away like my part was supposed to do. He kissed me a few more times for the song and while I continued to play the baker’s wife, my real emotions were all over the place. I wanted him to keep kissing me, which was so confusing because he was supposed to be my best friend. The buddy who knew my deepest darkest secrets. The guy who told me everything.
There was silence as the scene ended. I stared up into his eyes, vaguely aware of the whistles and cheers that went up around us. I backed away and bowed low, hoping it would hide my embarrassment.
I wanted to talk to him afterward since we hadn’t really talked in days, but he was pulled away to help with scenery. Heather grabbed my arm and yanked me off the stage. She didn’t stop until we were out of earshot.
“What was that?” Her eyes danced. “You two were on fire.”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head and threw my arms around her. “I missed you guys.”
She hugged me tight. “I missed you too. I can’t believe all that happened. You’re going to have to tell me everything.”
I shrugged and sat in one of the seats. “There’s not much to tell. I didn’t do much during those days except watch TV, run over lines, and complain to my mom about how bored I was. She didn’t even argue when I hopped in my car and took off.”
“I’m sure she was plenty bored herself.” She leaned closed. “You haven’t seen Brandon yet, have you?”
I shook my head. “Do you think he’s forgiven me for ditching him yet?”
“We told him you had a fever of a hundred and three, so probably. I do have to warn you that Ellie has her claws in him, though. But from the way you and Max lit up the stage, I’m not sure that’s a problem.” She nudged my elbow. “When did that happen?”
“What?” I looked over at her in confusion.
She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. There was obvious chemistry between you two. And he didn’t talk about anything but you when we were decorating Ethan’s room.”
“Oh yeah. How’d that go?” It felt like forever ago that I was supposed to help her.
“It was great. Max wrote the answer since he’s taller, and I added the stars all over the ceiling. But then Ethan got home so we had to sneak through the window.” She pointed to her elbow. “I have the scar to prove it.”
I laughed. “I can totally see you two climbing out the window. Probably because I’ve seen it before.”
“Hey, that was your idea. And the movie we went to scared me to death for the next two months.” Heather leaned in. “But stop changing the subject. Do you like him?”
“I don’t know.” I caught glimpses of Max as he set up the stage. “I found out who the secret admirer is.”
Heather gasped. “Who?”
I nodded at Max. “They ran a search to see if the emails were part of my dad’s case, and they tied the email address back to Max.”
“Who knew he had it in him?” Heather leaned closer. “So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
I pulled out my laptop to do some homework and Heather gasped. “What?”
She grinned. “I have the perfect idea.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“You’re going to turn the tables on him.” She took my computer from my lap and pulled up a document. She turned so I couldn’t see and typed out a message. When she seemed satisfied, she handed it back to me.
I grinned. “You think it’ll work?”
She snorted. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”
Dear Secret Admirer,
Your poetry had the entire school swooning, and you’ve left everyone wondering who you could possibly be. Opening night for Into the Woods is in three weeks, which gives you time to break out of your shell and show us who you really are. If you have the guts, come and reveal yourself before the opening of the first act.
Signed, Cupid.
“Three weeks? You think I want to wait three weeks?” I leaned my head against the chair.
“You don’t have to. He does. You already know who he is, so now he just has to get up the nerve to admit it was him. Besides, it’s been five weeks since you started the article in the first place.”
I sighed. “Fine. I like it. I just hope it doesn’t end up being someone else. Just because it’s under his name doesn’t mean it’s him. I mean, people lie all the time online, right?”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean it happened this time. Now hurry and get that to Mr. Reynolds so it can run in the paper tomorrow.”
“Fine.” I grimaced as I pasted it into an email and sent it off. I could ask him about it after play practice. Maybe delete it if I chickened out.
Heather sighed and leaned back in her chair. “There. Now all is right with the world.”
I sure hoped so.
Sometimes waiting makes things take forever to get here. Like watching paint dry or ice melt or whatever. A pot boil? Probably. Anyway, I thought sitting in a safe house with nothing to do was bad, but it was nothing like waiting for the play to begin.
And it had been one day. One.
The paper had gone out, and the buzz was louder than when we started the column in the first place. Cupid had made her move, and it was up to the other guy to respond. I was shocked no one knew it was me yet. Mr. Reynolds must have been hanging something pretty big over Ellie’s head for her not to have spilled the beans on who Cupid was.
That, or finally having Brandon in her clutches had made her happy. I doubted that. I’d seen her flirting with another guy that morning.
Brandon sat a few rows ahead of me in math and kept glancing back at me with lowered eyebrows. Apparently he expected my flu to burst out and attack everyone at any second. When it was time to start on our homework, I dove in, thankful to have something take my mind off that infernal newspaper.
My phone sat next to my hand, always at the ready. Mom and the other agents said things were good again, but Dad seemed on edge. He took part in our conversations, but he watched his phone as closely as I was watching mine right then.
“Hey, Alayna.”
My yell made everyone else in the room jump. “Sorry. Sorry, guys.”
Brandon’s eyes were wide. “Wow. I’ve scared people before, but not like that. What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I must have fallen asleep or something.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to calm down. “What’s up?”
“I just wondered if you could help me with this problem. But if you’re that tired, maybe you should go home.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. Which problem?”
He pointed to the number on the worksheet. “I think my answer is way off.”
“Okay.” I looked through it and pointed. “You switched those two numbers around.”
“Shoot. I knew something was wrong.” He erased and fixed it. “Look about the dance—”
I put a hand up. “It’s all right. Really. I was down for the count, and you needed someone to go with. I mean, I could have used chicken noodle soup or something, but going to the dance with someone else worked too.”
He mumbled something and looked away.
“What?”
“I tried. I brought soup and bread because my mom always gives me that, but no one answered.”
I stared at him, that small chip of ice on my shoulder melting. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I even made it from scratch.” He held up a bandaged finger. “I cut myself while chopping the carrots.”
Dude. That was . . . what was I even supposed to do with that? “Wow, Brandon. That’s so sweet of you.”
He shrugged. “I ate it myself—it was good, by the way—and went to work. Ellie was there with flowers, and well, I found myself asking her. I’ve been beating myself up ever since.”
“Oh, really?” That’s where my sympathy ended. I pulled up the pictures from Max and Heather. “This is beating yourself up?”
“I—well—You don’t understand.” He huffed. “I tried.”
I pushed his homework back toward him. “I know you did. And I really appreciate it. But I also see these pictures and know you’re over the heartbreak. I’m glad you two had fun. Really. I am.”
Brandon hesitated before picking up his papers and trudging back to his desk. He tried to use his puppy dog eyes a few times before Ellie caught him and chewed him out. All in all, I was pretty sure Mr. Reynolds was quite relieved to have the bell ring for the end of class. I grabbed my stuff and went up to the front to talk so Brandon wouldn’t have a chance to talk to me in the hall. Besides, he had enough on his plate by the way Ellie was chewing him out as they left.
“Hey, Mr. Reynolds. What did you decide about the column? If we’re going to do this for prom, I’ll probably need to start next week.”
“Plan on it. And great job with that letter in today’s paper. You think he’ll answer?” He leaned back, his fingers in a
pyramid.
I shrugged. “Maybe. I hope so.”
“I hope you’re right. Oh, and can you cover the play? I know you’re in it, so if it’s too much trouble . . .”
“It’s fine. I’ve already been keeping notes anyway.” True, they were for my book, but they’d still work once I changed a few things around.
Max met me in the hallway. “You think the guy is going to just do what the letter says?”
I sure hoped so. “Maybe.”
“You like setting yourself up for craziness, don’t you?” Max nodded toward my phone. “Why are you holding that like a weapon?”
“Because I’m waiting for the world to implode.” I glanced up at him, hoping he’d understand without me having to say anything else.
He shrugged. “They said everyone has been caught. That should be enough.”
“You’d think so, but I’m not so sure. See you at lunch?” I changed out my books at my locker.
“I’ll save you a seat.” He jogged toward chemistry, and I went to the library. Everything was normal.
I just hoped it would stay that way.
The day of the play was cold and rainy, but I still couldn’t help the excitement. Everything was going smoothly with it, and I couldn’t wait for the big reveal before it started. That was if things happened how I hoped.
Signs with my Cupid message were up all over the school, among posters for the upcoming prom. My new column wouldn’t start for a couple more days, but I still had a few emails trickling in already, so they’d be the first to ask their dates.
I hummed one of the songs from the play as I went from first to second period. Max met up with me, which was strange since his class was in the opposite direction. “Hey, Max. Did you leave something in my car again?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m just not leaving your side for the rest of the day. All of your teachers will be subs as well.”
