by Jazz Taylor
Nic is waiting on me, so I blurt out, “I’ll have to ask my dad.” It’s true (he’d never let me go to someone’s house without me asking), but I hate that Nic’s face falls a little.
“Okay! Just let me know.” She clips Noodle’s leash to her collar and waves. “See you tomorrow, Avery!”
I wave too, a funny feeling in my gut. I talked to Nic, a little, and I didn’t pass out. And I talked to Harper too. Maybe this play is a good thing. Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But things are kinda looking up.
I push around the last bit of spaghetti on my plate, trying to figure out how to ask Dad to let me go to Nic’s house.
There’s a trick to asking Dad about these things. Ever since The Incident (Andrew got invited to a birthday party and the other kids teased him until he cried to come home), Dad is really paranoid about us going to places he doesn’t know. It hasn’t mattered to me because I don’t really go anywhere, but he and Andrew are always fighting about where Andrew’s going.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asks me as he returns from the kitchen. His plate is piled high with spaghetti. Dad’s eyebrows furrow. “Did you have another panic attack?”
“No,” I assure him. I make a heart out of my leftover noodles while I pick my words. “So, Dad …”
“No.”
“Dad! I haven’t even asked!”
“Okay, okay,” he says, laughing. “Go on.”
“What if I wanted to, umm, go to a friend’s house.”
Andrew looks up from his phone for the first time all night. “I thought you didn’t have friends.”
I shoot him a dirty look before looking at Dad again. “It’s just for a little while. To practice for the play.”
Dad pauses mid-twirl and narrows his eyes. Uh oh. Not a good sign.
“Who is this friend?”
“Her name is Nic. She plays Juliet’s best friend in the play. She’s really cool, I promise.”
“Where does she live?”
“Around here! We ride the bus together.”
“Who are her parents?”
I bite my bottom lip. I don’t know. I never asked.
Dad crosses his arms, seemingly deep in thought. “I’m not sure about this, Avery. You’ve never mentioned her before. And now you want to go to her house?”
“Let her go,” Andrew says, surprising me. “She’s been miserable for months. It’s depressing.”
I guess Dad is surprised too, because he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he looks at me and shrugs, smiling a little. “Okay, you can go. But—I have to meet her parents first. Do you have their number?”
“I can get it,” I say, pulling out my phone. I have Nic’s number because we have a cast group chat, but I’ve never texted her before. I take a deep breath and send a text before I can chicken out.
Hey Nic its Avery. Dad wants to meet ur parents before I can come over
The text bubble pops up immediately.
YES!! Hang on let me ask
I wait, knots in my stomach. Dad’s talking to Andrew about college, so at least they’re not staring at me while I wait. Three long minutes tick by before the bubble pops up again.
Mom says that’s cool! Can you and your dad come over Friday?? Around 7?
I touch the collar of my shirt, already sweaty. This is way more than I bargained for. But when I ask Dad, he nods, and I text Nic back, panic and fear and something a lot like excitement swimming in my chest.
We’ll be there.
After school on Wednesday, I go to the library to wait on Harper.
I’m starting to get that nervous, sweaty feeling I got when I tried to talk to Nic on the first day of the semester. I adjust my backpack, then walk in a circle, then rub my damp hands on my jeans. I can do this. I just have to be normal. Not a big deal. Everyone else does it. Except me.
“Hey, Avery.”
I look up, heart hammering, and Harper’s standing just a few feet from me. I didn’t see her coming. How does she do that? I didn’t hear her coming when she saw me with Phantom either.
I try to talk, but Harper’s standing there, just waiting, and my tongue freezes up. I manage a nod though, and she smiles at me.
“Ready to get searchin’?”
I nod again, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, and Harper pushes open the door to the library. There’s hardly anyone in here—just one librarian I’ve never met, because I don’t come here very much. At my old school I would hang out in the library at lunch, but now I have the theater.
“Hi, Mrs. Carter,” Harper says to the librarian. “How are you?”
“Doing great,” the librarian says, smiling at Harper. She’s a tall lady with short black hair. “What’re you getting today? We have some new fantasy titles in.”
Harper looks interested, but she shakes her head. “Nothing. Avery and I want to use a computer for a few minutes. Can we, even though it’s after school?”
The librarian smiles at her. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Carter!” Harper says goodbye and leads me to the computers. She must be good friends with the librarian, because there’s a big sign over the section that says COMPUTER HOURS: 8:00 A.M.–3:00 P.M. and it’s already three thirty. Does she read a lot? Well, she has to, since she wrote a whole play. It probably counts as practice, like singing a song over and over until you know all the notes. Maybe I should read more.
Harper turns on the computer and types in her library card number from memory. I don’t even know where my library card is. “Where should we start?” Harper asks me.
I take a deep breath. I can do this. “Maybe … the shelters and vet clinics? But I don’t know which ones are close, because I just moved here. Which you know already.” I shut up before I make things worse.
Harper smiles at me. “I did know. Where’d you go before?”
I fidget a little. This is an easy question, but I still feel a little panicked. “I—I went to Eufaula Middle. That’s the name of the city.”
“Oh yeah?” To my slight horror, Harper pulls up Google and types in “ufalla.” Luckily, Google corrects her, so I don’t have to. “Oh wow, that’s a long way from here! Like four hours.”
Yeah, almost exactly four hours. Riding in the car with Andrew that long was torture. He was still really mad that Dad made us move right before his senior year, so he didn’t talk the whole time. Dad kept trying to start a conversation, but Andrew wouldn’t answer. It was miserable.
I watch Harper google three vet clinics and two animal shelters, pulling up the lost pet ads from each place, but no Phantom. There is one cat that sort of looks like her, but it’s too skinny and has a notch in one ear. There’s a bunch of really cute cats missing in Cullman, Alabama, but none are Phantom.
Harper leans back in her chair and sighs. “A strikeout. I guess we could look in other cities, but how far can a cat go?”
I shrug, trying to hide my relief. We didn’t find her, so maybe she really is a stray. A stray that eats a lot.
“Should we make flyers, maybe?” Harper asks. She holds her hands in front of her face, miming a headline. “Found cat. Very cute, incredibly fat. Reward for finding her: ten million dollars.”
I let a small laugh escape. “We can’t charge anyone for finding her. That counts as blackmail, I think.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Harper laughs and turns off the computer. “What do you want to do now?”
Oh no, here it is. I like hanging out with Harper, but we don’t have anything left to do. And I still can’t really talk, so she’ll definitely think I’m weird and then—
“Wanna see the cat before we go home?” Harper asks.
My panic evaporates, and my muscles relax. Harper’s not like Nic; we can always talk about Phantom. I owe a lot to that little cat. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
I take a deep breath before stepping into the lunchroom. I have to get Phantom’s turkey sandwich, but today’s a bad day. It happens sometimes—I get anxious for no reason, and
my body is sweaty and twitchy. It’s probably because I have to go to Nic’s house tomorrow and dress up. It’s almost like a date! Except Dad will be there. And Nic doesn’t like me like that. I think.
I rub the hem of my shirt between my fingers. I don’t know what’s going on with Nic at all. Why is she being so nice to me? Does she want to be friends? But why? I don’t get it. I don’t get why she’d try so hard to be friends with someone as weird as me.
I get Phantom’s sandwich and a fruit cup for me, and I’m headed to the theater when Nic waves at me from her table. She’s sitting with Emily and Amberleigh, as always. Amberleigh is the most popular kid in school. Nic is number two.
“Avery! Come here, come here.”
I hesitate, my knuckles pale against the fruit cup. Nic seems happy to see me, but Emily seems indifferent and Amberleigh looks like she stepped in something disgusting. But Nic’s smile makes my feet move, and soon I’m standing in front of her table.
I open my mouth to ask her what’s up, but Amberleigh’s and Emily’s stares freeze the words in my throat.
“Come sit with us,” Nic says, rescuing me. She flashes a brilliant smile. “You always sit by yourself outside. And we can discuss our plans for tomorrow!”
“What plans?” Amberleigh asks, one eyebrow raised. Any liquid I have left in my mouth dries up in a second.
Nic is completely oblivious. “Avery’s gonna practice for the play at my house. She’s Juliet, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Amberleigh looks me up and down, the one eyebrow still raised. How does she keep it like that for so long? “Congrats.”
“So, come on.” Nic pats the stool next to her.
My brain is short-circuiting. This is too much. I can’t take sitting at the table with the girl I like, and her popular friend, and one of the people who thinks I’m a terrible Juliet, and I only have a fruit cup that I can’t eat because I can’t eat when I’m anxious and anxiety is eating the lining of my stomach like the old-school Pac-Man game eats those white marbles—
“Avery?” Nic’s smile fades a little.
“I can’t,” I squeak. “I have to—I have to—” My breath is already short. I wave weakly and then hurry away from her table.
Not fast enough.
“Who was that?” Amberleigh’s voice reaches me. “She’s so weird.”
I sprint out of the cafeteria so Nic won’t see the tears building in my eyes.
I go straight to Phantom’s closet. I open the door, but she’s not in her bed. I get to my knees, trying not to cry. “Phantom? You there?”
I hear a meow, and Phantom emerges from the hole. She climbs into my lap, bumping her cold head against my chin.
“Where do you go anyway?” I hug her, and she licks my cheek. She meows in my ear and looks at her food bowl. Point taken.
I put her down and open the turkey sandwich bag. Phantom’s ears prick, and she goes to her food bowl, already licking her lips. I take the turkey off the bread and place it in her bowl. She wolfs it down and looks at me for more.
“Sorry, that’s all I got.” I watch her clean her whiskers, feeling low. “I’m having a hard time, Phantom. That’s what Dad used to say when we lived at the apartment.”
“What happened?”
I look back in response to Harper’s voice. I didn’t hear her coming, again. She’s as quiet as Phantom. She has her hands in her pockets and is leaning against the back of the stage. Phantom prances over to Harper with her tail straight up the air and starts circling her ankles.
“Hey, cat,” she says, petting Phantom. She looks up and gives me a nervous smile. “I saw you running from the lunchroom. But if you don’t want to talk, that’s okay. You can tell me to get lost.”
I wait for the panic to overwhelm me like usual, but there’s nothing. I’m still feeling rotten, even though Phantom helped. Maybe I do need to talk.
“It’s okay.” I sit down next to the closet, and Harper sits next to me. Phantom climbs into my lap, yawning.
Harper crosses her legs. “I saw you talking to the popular gang. They’re mean, so don’t worry about what they said.”
“Nic’s not mean.” I wince when I hear the defensiveness in my voice. “She’s really cool. It’s not her fault, it’s mine.”
“Your fault that you’re upset?” Harper’s tone is skeptical.
“Well, no. Amberleigh called me weird.” I rub Phantom’s soft ears. “And I guess I am.”
“Why? Because you can’t talk to people easy?” When I nod, Harper shrugs. “You’re talking fine now.”
Huh. I suppose so. I look at Harper, and she gives me a little smile. Maybe Nic was right. Phantom’s in my lap, asleep, and now I’m calmer. I don’t feel even a little sweaty. Maybe her Noodle plan will work.
Harper’s stomach growls. She wraps one arm around her middle and sighs. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“Do you want my fruit cup?” I hold it out to her. “I’m not hungry.”
Harper stares at it for a second, an expression I’ve never seen before crossing her face. Fear? Hunger? Something in between? “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, go ahead. When I get anxious, I can’t eat.”
Harper takes the fruit cup, opens it, and swallows the whole thing in a few seconds. I watch her in awe. I don’t think she even chewed it.
“Thanks,” she says, licking her lips. She hesitates, dragging her thumbnail over the plastic edge. “I didn’t bring anything for lunch today.”
Or the last time I saw her. I frown down at my hands. Before Dad got his new job, some months we were short and he wouldn’t eat lunch. Maybe January is a short month for Harper’s family too.
“I hardly ever eat my lunch,” I say, “so you can have some of mine if you want.” Harper looks a little irritated so I quickly say, “It’s not charity. I literally throw it away every day.”
“If you don’t eat, you’re gonna blow away!” Harper says, smiling. “But thanks, Avery. You’re okay.”
Warmth fills my empty stomach. In Harper’s eyes, I’m okay. That’s, like, maybe four steps away from real friendship. The closest I’ve been in over a year!
The lunch bell rings, and Harper slaps her forehead. “Shoot, we should have talked about Phantom! Can you meet me tomorrow?”
My stomach does a somersault when I think of my Friday plans. “Uh, no. But maybe Saturday?”
“Deal. Give me your phone.” I do, and Harper hastily types in her number. She gives it back to me, smiling. “Text me, and we’ll find Phantom’s owner! Promise.”
I hold my phone like it’s a diamond. Hanging out with Nic tomorrow, then Harper on Saturday. It’s too good to be true.
It’s almost like I’m normal.
Dad and I stand outside Nic’s house. I’m nervous, my dress’s armpits already damp. But even Dad seems nervous. He keeps messing with his tie and the buttons on his shirtsleeve.
“You okay?” I ask him.
Dad smiles down at me. “I’m okay. Ready?”
I nod and Dad rings Nic’s doorbell.
Immediately, a thunderous barking starts, followed by “Noodle! Hush, be quiet!”
A tall woman opens the door. She’s wearing a pretty red dress and red lipstick and golden hoop earrings. She’s gotta be the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. A man comes up behind her, wearing a dress shirt but also gray sweatpants. He smiles at Dad warmly. Nic waves at me from behind them, holding on to Noodle’s collar. I wave back shyly.
“You must be Mr. Williams,” Nic’s mom says with a smile. “I’m Carol, Nic’s mom. And this is my husband, Kevin.” They all shake hands, saying “Hi” and “Hello” and “Nice to meet you.” Dad looks even more nervous than before. I know the feeling, Dad.
“Nice to meet you,” Dad says, his voice a little squeaky. “I’m Charles. Umm, Avery’s dad.”
“Guys,” Nic hisses, nudging her mom’s side. She’s still holding Noodle, who’s straining to get to me and Dad, tail wagging. “Let them in already!”
Nic’s dad laughs and moves to the side. I hesitate, but Dad puts a hand behind my head and nudges me forward. “Be strong,” he murmurs. But it’s almost like he’s talking to himself.
Nic’s house is like her family—big and warm. The walls in the living room are covered in pictures. An old woman (maybe Nic’s grandma?) sits on her couch, fast asleep, while a toddler plays with red and yellow blocks at her feet.
Nic lets Noodle go as soon as the door swings shut behind us. The dog runs to me, whining and licking my arms and legs and chin. I laugh, some of the anxiety in my stomach dissolving, and pet her behind her floppy ears.
“Avery,” Dad groans, “don’t let the dog lick you in the face. At least.”
Before I can answer, Nic’s mom glares pointedly at her. “I thought we were going to keep the dog in your room, Nic.”
“We are!” Nic says, grinning. “Avery and I will go upstairs and you guys can talk. Okay?”
Dad and I look at each other at the same time. His eyebrows scrunch together. “You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Good!” Nic says, grabbing my hand. I try my best not to melt into a useless puddle. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Nic leads me through the kitchen, Noodle trotting behind us. It’s messy, dishes piled in the sink, loose papers all over the counter and a small island in the middle. It’s different from our kitchen; ours is still spotless from the move. Dad hasn’t even had time to put his magnet collection up.
“Sorry it’s so messy,” Nic says as we head toward shiny hardwood stairs. “I forgot to tell Mom you and your dad were coming over, so now she’s kinda mad at me.”
So what was that text? Did she not ask her mom right then? Heat builds in my face. Did Nic want me to come over that bad?
Nic has her foot on the first step when a kid appears at the top. He comes down, and I realize I’ve seen him before. He’s in eighth grade, and I think he’s on the football team. I didn’t know he was Nic’s brother.
“Oh, who’s this?” he says when he’s halfway down the stairs. I feel my throat closing up, but I put a hand on Noodle’s back and try to give him a smile. It’s probably closer to a grimace though.
