by Kieran Scott
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I was thinking maybe we could hang out for a while,” Daniel said, lifting the book. “Do some homework?”
Daniel was acting weird. Like he had been caught doing something wrong. His eyes were darting around and he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
There was nothing I wanted more than to say yes. Then we could go inside, spend a little quality time with Shakespeare—and each other—and I could find out why he was looking so . . . nervous. But I couldn’t. Why did he have to pick tonight of all nights to surprise me at my house, wearing that light blue sweatshirt that made his eyes look just like the ocean on a perfect sunny day?
“Actually, I kind of promised Steven an interview,” I said, biting my lip. “We just got started.”
Daniel glanced at Steven. “Oh, right. Okay,” he said.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
“Sure. Fine,” Daniel said. “You?”
For some reason, the way he said you almost sounded like an accusation. What was going on here? Before I could answer, Steven switched the tape recorder back on and held it up.
“So, I’m here with Annisa Gobrowski and Daniel Healy, hero of last week’s county championship game against the West Wind Dolphins,” Steven said in a Fox News Live kind of voice. “I have to ask, are you two a couple?”
Time stood still. A rumble of thunder off in the distance punctuated his question. I saw a bolt of lightning flash, hit me in the head and turn me to charbroiled dust. Not really, but I was kind of hoping for it.
I looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at me. Well? I thought. Are we a couple, Daniel?
“What kind of interview is this, exactly?” Daniel asked. He looked kind of green now.
“The public wants to know,” Steven replied. “Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend or what?”
I swallowed hard.
Daniel looked me right in the eyes. “I think I’ll just call you later,” he said, sort of loudly. Then he rushed out of there so fast, his track coach would have been proud.
“Wow. Talk about dodging a question,” Steven said.
He had no idea how much that comment stung. The first raindrop smacked against my forehead and I headed for the front door.
“You coming?” I asked him, feeling numb.
He grinned and slipped by me into the house. I stared at the edge of the driveway, wishing Daniel would miraculously reappear. He had just ditched the perfect opportunity to tell the world that we were a couple. I was really starting to wonder—did Daniel Healy even want to be my boyfriend? Did he want to be with me at all?
“So, Annisa, what’s your favorite color?” Steven asked, holding the microphone to my face.
“Red, why?” I asked, confused. I think I was having an out-of-body experience.
“Favorite candy?” he asked.
I walked into the living room and lowered my extremely heavy body onto the couch. That was when I noticed that the entire place smelled like my dad’s roasted chicken.
“Annisa? Is that you?” my father called as he walked in from the kitchen. “Oh, hello,” he said when he saw Steven standing there.
Dad’s brown hair was mussed, as always, and he had one pair of glasses on top of his head and another on his nose. Classic. Plus he was wearing a brown cotton sweater over black corduroy pants. We had lived in Florida for over two months and he had yet to grasp the fact that he should stop dressing for winter weather. Instead, he just kept the AC pumped up to simulate New Jersey winter so that we all had to walk around in wool sweaters and sweat socks. Dad’s a highly sought-after college English professor and sometimes I think he’s the definition of the absentminded prof.
“You must be Mr. Gobrowski,” Steven said, reaching out his free hand to shake with my dad. “I’m Steven Schwinn, reporter for the Weekly Catch.”
“Pleased to meet you, Steven,” my father said, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel he was toting before shaking with him.
“Do you know what Annisa’s favorite candy is?” Steven asked.
“Gummy bears and peanut M&M’s,” my father said automatically. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m doing a piece on her for the paper,” Steven explained.
“Really? On Annisa?” my dad asked, looking impressed. He came around the couch and dropped down next to me. Steven removed both our bags from his person and took the chair on the other side of the coffee table.
“It’s really not that big a deal,” I said flatly. What is a big deal is Daniel and the way he ran out of here. DanielDaniel-Daniel.
“How about her favorite band?” Steven asked.
“The Beatles,” my father said with a proud smile. “My daughter loves the classics.”
As Steven continued to grill my dad on the most bizarre list of questions, I just sat there, watching as fat raindrops pounded against the living room window. I had a few questions myself. Like, why had Daniel bolted? And was he really going to call me later? Because it didn’t feel like it. Damn. I was really having a hard time keeping up my normal glass-is-half-full outlook lately. Was this what love did to you?
“So,” Daniel said, running his hands up and down the steering wheel of his black Honda Civic.
“So,” I replied.
Yeah. This is fun.
It was Wednesday night and Daniel and I were sitting at the end of Chandra’s jam-packed driveway. Tomorrow morning the squad was leaving for nationals and we had decided to have a pre-competition sleepover, just like we had before regionals. Partially because it had been so much fun the last time and partially because Tara was insisting we do everything in the exact same way so as not to jinx ourselves.
One of these days that girl was really going to need to get her head examined.
Of course, one thing had been different the night before regionals—for me at least. Back then I had known for sure that Daniel liked me. Now, even though he was less than a foot away, it felt like there was a monster ditch between us. One I couldn’t seem to jump over. We had barely spoken in the last twenty-four hours and I had almost been surprised when he had actually shown up at our prearranged time to drive me over here.
I looked at Daniel’s profile and my pulse roared in my ears. There was one way to jump the chasm. If I was brave enough. All I had to do was ask him. Just flat-out ask him. Then at least I would know. And knowing, one way or another, would be a lot better than this not knowing . . . right? Daniel looked at me and I instantly glanced away.
Oh yeah, I’m brave. Sign me up for Fear Factor, people, ’cause fear is not a factor for me.
“Is everything okay?” Daniel asked.
I pressed my sweaty palms into my jeans. “Uh . . . yeah. Just a little nervous about nationals.”
Liar. Big, fat, honking liar. My nose grew so fast, it shattered the windshield.
“Well, maybe you should do something to get your mind off of it,” Daniel said. “You know, distract yourself.”
“Like what?” I asked.
He pulled me toward him and before I could even gasp in surprise, he pressed his lips to mine. My heart completely soared as I slipped my arms around his neck. Daniel pulled me as close to him as possible with the manual shift between us. It was the longest, deepest kiss we had ever shared. I could barely even catch my breath. Well, that was one way to bridge the proverbial gap.
He likes me! He really likes me!
Finally he broke away, but he touched his forehead to mine. Our noses were rubbing and his breath was quick and warm against my face. My lips hummed pleasantly.
Sigh.
Just ask him! my mind wailed as it swam and swirled. Just do it!
“Hey,” I said.
“Yeah?” he replied.
“Remember that whole thing with Steven yesterday?”
Daniel sat up straight, and with his warmth removed, I felt like shivering. “Yeah,” he said, his brow wrinkling.
“Well, he wanted to know something, remember?” I said, stalling
. “The question he asked? When he turned his tape recorder back on . . . ?”
Daniel looked at me, his eyes blank. I had absolutely no clue what he was thinking. I wanted to scream in total frustration. He was really going to make me say it.
“Are you my boyfriend or what?” I blurted.
Oh, yeah. Way smooth, I chided myself. Why you’ve never had a boyfriend, Annisa, I do not understand.
Daniel blinked. “Your boyfriend?” His voice squeaked. He couldn’t have looked more terrified if I’d just tossed him out of an airplane without a chute.
“I’m just kidding,” I heard myself say as panic set in, jangling every organ in my body. I scrambled for the door handle. I had to get out of there. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that, I was just . . . you know . . . wondering. Not that it’s important, in fact, it’s not important. To me, I mean.” He was completely ashen at this point. “I don’t even want a boyfriend, you know? It’s, like, so yesterday, the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, right? I mean, hello? What am I, living in 1950? Just fit me for a poodle skirt and a beehive.”
Did you just say “beehive”? Abort! Abort now!
“I gotta go. Thanks for the ride!”
And then I practically fell out of the car. By the time I got inside Chandra’s house, I felt like crumbling to the tile floor. Would a permanent voice box removal hinder my future as a cheerleader?
4
“Chandra? Where are the M&M’s for the oatmeal-peanut butter-M&M cookies?” Tara asked, one hand on her hip. Just like before regionals, she was wearing her Badtz Maru nightshirt, and Badtz was so washed out, it was clear she’d been wearing him every night since as well. Now I really started to wonder about her underwear.
“They were out of regular M&M’s, so I got chocolate chips instead,” Chandra said as she stirred the gloopy dough with a big wooden spoon.
Everyone else in Chandra’s huge, professionally equipped kitchen froze. I stopped cramming our empty Chinese food containers into the big green garbage bag. Sage nearly dropped the pitcher of virgin strawberry daiquiris. Jaimee paused with a handful of avocado face mask just inches from Mindy’s skin. Even Felice looked up from her copy of The Canterbury Tales, and it’s next to impossible to distract that girl when she’s reading.
“Are you sure you didn’t just eat all the regular M&M’s?” Tara snapped.
“Tara!” Whitney scolded.
“What? We all know she’s a total chocoholic! I mean, I really can’t believe they were out of regular M&M’s,” Tara said, her voice high and tight. “What kind of supermarket runs out of regular M&M’s?”
Chandra finally realized the gravity of her faux pas. She stopped stirring and took a step away from our captain. “Okay, Tara. Stay calm.”
“You couldn’t go to another store and find regular M&M’s?” Tara asked, gripping the edge of the counter. “Last time we did this we had oatmeal-peanut butter-M&M cookies, Chandra. Not oatmeal-peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies.”
For the first time ever, Chandra was at a loss for words. That incongruity was almost as disturbing as Tara’s dilated pupils. Chandra shot Whitney a helpless look over Tara’s coiled shoulders. “Help?” she mouthed.
“Okay! I’m going!” Whitney announced, grabbing her keys and purse. “I’m going to get some M&M’s. Let’s everyone chill! Crisis averted.”
“I’ll go with you,” Phoebe offered, jumping off the stool by the breakfast bar. I could tell she just wanted to escape the insanity. Together they hustled for the door, Whitney in her gray sweats, Phoebe in her pink-and-white-striped flannel pj pants.
“Just hurry back!” Tara called after them.
The front door slammed and everyone returned to what they were doing, though no one ventured within a three-foot radius of Tara. If and when she exploded, I knew I didn’t want to be anywhere near her either.
“I’m going to the living room to make sure all our sleeping bags are arranged properly,” Tara announced. “By the time I get back, there had better be some J. Lo on that CD player,” she said, pointing at the flat, state-of-the-art, wall-mounted stereo. “We need to listen to J. Lo, just like last time, no matter how cringe-worthy it is.”
“You got it, mein Führer,” Chandra said under her breath, jabbing at the cookie dough.
“Her aura is so splotchy,” Autumn put in, her eyes wide. “Do you think she’ll let me cleanse it?”
“The girl doesn’t even wash her socks,” I replied. “I think her aura is out of the question.”
I tied off the garbage bag and hoisted it over my shoulder, heading out the back door to the garage where Chandra’s family kept the garbage cans.
“How nice!” Sage said with a snort, topping off Erin’s daiquiri. “We finally found the perfect job for Annisa.”
I paused, stunned. What did I ever do to you? I thought. What I said was, “There’s still room in here for you if you want to climb on in. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home.”
“Ooooh,” a couple of girls said. I couldn’t believe it. A comeback! Right when I actually needed one! Who knew it was possible?
Sage put down the pitcher, picked up her cell phone and stepped up to me, glaring into my eyes. “At least I’m not Daniel Healy’s sloppy seconds.”
Holy crapola. She did not actually just say that to me! I ripped open the garbage bag and dumped the entire smelly, saucy contents all over her and her pink nightgown.
Well, not really. But in my imagination, it was perfection.
“Sage!” Mindy gasped.
At that moment, Sage’s cell phone trilled. She checked the caller ID and raced from the room, her ponytail bouncing. Everyone looked at me.
My heart sank like a stone. Now I knew exactly what Sage thought of me—as did everyone else on the team. She thought I wasn’t worthy of Daniel. Did that mean she wanted him back? And if so, what was she doing with this new crush she was so excited about? Just stringing him along? She had made out with my brother, Gabe, while she was still with Daniel. Apparently Sage was a two-guy type of girl. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even get the one guy I liked to officially ask me out.
I sighed and headed out back. Just then, I felt like Sage was completely right—trash duty was the perfect job for me.
That night, I was just crawling into my cushy sleeping bag, my stomach full of oatmeal-peanut butter-M&M cookies, ready to put the day behind me and start fresh, when Tara returned from the bathroom and clapped her hands together.
“So! Are we dyeing Annisa’s hair tonight or what?” she asked, all pep.
My over-full stomach flipped dangerously. Everyone looked at me.
“Tara—” Whitney began.
“What? I’m sure Chandra has an extra box of dye around here somewhere,” Tara said with a shrug.
“Hey!” Chandra protested.
“Don’t even try it, girl. You’re looking a little ratty around the roots there,” Kimberly said.
“You want to talk hair issues, split-end?” Chandra shot back.
“Here we go,” Erin said under her breath. She pulled her pillow over her face and held it there. A no-skirt-wearing (except for her uniform) tomboy, Erin probably had less patience for bickering than the rest of us.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Whitney said, standing up and getting between Chandra and Kimberly. “We are not going to get into petty arguments right now. Remember what happened to this squad the last time we let that happen?”
“Look, all I’m saying is, we have the time. If we’re going to do it, we may as well do it now,” Tara said. God, she was acting like it was no big deal. Like dyeing my hair was as simple a decision as deciding to breathe.
I swallowed hard and glanced at Chandra, hoping for a little support. Everyone knew she was a bottle blonde. Sometimes I wished she would just grow those roots of hers out already so that I wouldn’t be alone in all this platinum hell.
“I’m in,” Sage said giddily.
Shocker, I thought. Everyone eyed me expectantly, wonderin
g if I would cave. All it made me want to do was fight back.
“I don’t know, Tara,” I said in a super-sweet tone. “We didn’t dye my hair the night before regionals. I mean, won’t it kill our luck?”
Silence. Tara’s mouth dropped open slightly, but nothing came out.
Gotcha! I thought.
Whitney reached toward me and I slapped her five. Tara glared at us and let out an exasperated groan. She sat down hard on the floor, yanked out her cucumber eye pillow and lay back, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.
Before anyone could say anything else, I got up and flipped the light switch, dousing us all in darkness. Case closed. For now.
By the time I “woke up” the following morning, I was physically exhausted. I wasn’t convinced that I had slept at all, actually. Between nationals nervousness, Daniel-obsessing, and the whole blonde thing, my mind had been racing all night. Plus, Chandra had snored on and off throughout the wee morning hours, Sage had insisted we leave the bathroom light on, and sometime around midnight Autumn had shouted something in her sleep about rainbow rabbits in springtime. What the heck was that about?
I thought about calling Jordan for a quick pep talk, but at this indecent hour, I knew she was still asleep. I yawned hugely as I sat up in my sleeping bag, wishing I was in Snoozeland with her.
Of course, I couldn’t be groggy for long. We were going to nationals today! Eventually the jitters and excitement had to snuff the tiredness. Chandra’s mother was in the kitchen at dawn, making the most yummy-smelling concoction of foods I had ever, well, smelled. Soon everyone was yawning, stretching and drooling for the coffee, bacon, frittatas and pancakes we had coming our way. The sun was shining, and as I took my turn in the bathroom to wash my face, I resolved not to think about Daniel or hair dye anymore. It was time to focus on the task at hand. This was nationals, people. I had to be the best cheerleader I could possibly be.
“Let’s sit out on the patio,” I suggested to Mindy when I emerged all fresh-faced and minty-breathed. “I could use some fresh air.”
