The Retake
Page 8
“Whatever, babies,” I heard Ava say under her breath, and Hyacinth snorted. “Okay, Hy. You picked the first number. Truth or text?”
“Truth,” Hyacinth said, as if it should have been obvious.
Ava looked at Steph, who nodded. “Where do you get your hair cut?”
Hyacinth’s face paled. “Um…at a salon?”
“What salon?” Stephanie pressed, already starting to giggle.
“BOGO Cuts.” Hyacinth self-consciously touched her bangs. I didn’t think they looked bad, but the other girls started laughing. “It’s not a big deal. I only trim my hair like twice a year, and my mom likes a bargain.” The girls laughed harder. Hyacinth shoved a handful of pretzels into her mouth to avoid saying anything else.
The questions were getting ugly. “Should we tell your mom to bring down that karaoke machine she got at work?” I whispered to Laura. She shook her head. “Are you sure? We…”
Laura turned to me, annoyed. “I said no. Leave it, Zoe.”
Everyone looked at me. I felt like I’d been slapped. I sat back and listened to Steph go next.
“I’m not telling you what size jeans I wear!” Steph declared.
“Fine. Then text Emily Brandwine and tell her she has fish breath,” Ava said.
“Noooo.” Stephanie threw herself backward onto someone’s pillow. “That’s too mean!”
“You chose text!”
Steph sighed and got out her phone. “Fine. But I’m telling her when she texts back that my younger brother had my phone.” I heard the whoosh as she hit send, and some of the girls cheered.
Laura was three turns away, and I was starting to sweat. Marisol chose truth and had to spill details about her first kiss with Stephen Corea. Had all the drama queens kissed boys already? I looked at Laura listening with rapt attention. She couldn’t wait for her first kiss, but I wasn’t sure I was ready. And I definitely wasn’t ready for Laura to have to text Jake again. How did I turn this game around? Suddenly I had an idea. I jumped up right as Ava was about to go. “I’ve got to use the bathroom. Be right back.” No one even looked at me.
I ran up the stairs and found Paige and Petra in the kitchen. I could hear Dianne on the phone in the other room—most likely with my mom, so I talked fast.
“Just the two I wanted to see.” I leaned my elbows on the counter. “What are you guys doing right now?”
“Making the world’s most gooey popcorn,” Paige said as she drizzled way too much chocolate sauce onto a bowl of popcorn.
“Then we’re going to post a video on YouTube and show everyone how to make it.” Petra dumped almost a container full of sprinkles into the bowl.
I felt ill just looking at it. “Cool!” I said. “But you know what would be even cooler? If you did karaoke with us.”
Paige blinked. “Mom said not to bother you guys.”
“And Laura threatened not to speak to us till 2025 if we did bother you guys,” Petra added. “That feels like a long time.” Paige nodded in agreement.
I thought harder. “Would you do it if Laura and I took you to Melted Cookie next time we go? My treat.”
Paige’s brown eyes lit up. “Really?”
“I love Melted Cookie!” Petra screamed, and I shushed her.
We all loved Melted Cookie. What was not to like about an ice cream shop that let you pick your favorite ice cream flavor to sandwich between two warmed cookies? We didn’t go often because both our moms thought seven dollars and fifty cents was a lot for an ice cream, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Who knew going back in time would be so pricy?
“We will go, but here is what you have to do…,” I said.
By the time I finished negotiating and got back downstairs, it was my turn. I just hoped the twins were good at telling time.
“Look who is back,” Sarah said. “You’re up, Zara.”
“It’s Zoe.” I sat down cross-legged next to Laura, who was spinning her rope bracelet around and around her wrist nervously. “And I’m ready.”
Sarah grinned. “Truth or text?”
Last time I answered truth and had to tell everyone whether I’d already gotten my period (yes), and where I was when it happened (at volleyball practice). It was time to switch things up. “Text!”
Everyone oohed.
“Impressive.” Ava gave me a high five. “No one has said text right off the bat. What are you hiding, Zoe?”
Oh, I don’t know. Just that an app took me back in time to this sleepover so I could save my friendship? “Nothing. I’ll text anyone you want. Go for it.” I leaned forward, waiting.
Hopefully, by morning, I’d be gone. But how I got there and when I went back to, I wasn’t sure. Did I go home to the minute I changed things and fade into oblivion right in front of their eyes? Or wake up back in my own bed like I had woken up next to Laura here? Did I still actively have to take another picture with Laura, which hadn’t happened yet? I really should have looked to see if that app had an FAQ section.
“Zoe? Did you hear me?” Sarah asked.
“What? No. Sorry!” I held up my phone. “Who am I texting?”
Sarah smiled. “You have to text someone you’re scared of and tell them exactly how you feel about them.”
“Done!” I started typing immediately. This was an easy question. Why had I been worried?
ME: Hope you won your vball game today. Sorry I didn’t come. I wish we were closer. I could really use my big sister sometimes. XO.
I held up the phone and showed the others.
“You texted your sister?” Ava looked disappointed.
I shrugged. “You said text someone I’m scared of, and I’m scared of Taryn. Big-time.”
“So am I,” Laura agreed, having my back.
For a second, I feared that Ava was going to say it didn’t count, but instead, she looked impressed. “Smooth.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling satisfied.
Paige and Petra came running downstairs, right on time. “Who wants to do karaoke?” Paige yelled.
Hyacinth jumped up. “You have a karaoke machine?”
“I love karaoke!” Marisol said. “Does it have every artist? Who wants to sing Taylor Swift with me?”
“I do!” said Hyacinth.
“Me too!” I stood up, happy to see that the drama queens were excited about the machine. This meant Laura wouldn’t have to play Truth or Text. At least I’d gotten one thing right tonight.
“You want to sing?” Laura asked incredulously.
“Why not?” I said since Ava was still watching me. “I will if you will.”
“We all will after Laura goes,” Ava said. “Everyone playing the game has to take a turn.”
“But karaoke is calling!” I tried, rushing to get the machine from the girls and plugging it in. The machine roared to life, sending rays of blue, pink, and yellow lights flashing across the basement ceiling.
“It’s only fair,” Ava said. “Truth or text, Laura?”
Laura looked at me worriedly.
“Truth!” I suggested.
Laura shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “No way.”
I was starting to sweat. She had to change her mind. She had to! “Come on!” I nudged her right shoulder. “Truth is easy, I swear!”
“Zoe!” Laura snapped. “Let me decide. Seriously.”
Hyacinth snorted. I shut up, feeling stupid.
Laura exhaled. “I’m picking text.”
I paled as the other girls gathered around. I knew what came next. Disaster. Tears. Doom.
Ava thought for a moment. “Great. Text the boy you like.”
“The boy I like?” Laura repeated, turning pink.
I couldn’t just stand there and watch this go down again. “She doesn’t like an
yone.”
“Not true!” Ava moved in closer. “She likes Jake Graser!”
“No, I don’t,” Laura said, but she stumbled over her words, making it all the more obvious.
“Jake is cute,” Marisol agreed. “Tell him!”
“I don’t like him!” Laura insisted, but her cheeks were so red, everyone knew she was lying.
“You chose text.” Hyacinth shrugged. “Now text him. That’s how the game works.”
“Karaoke! Karaoke!” Paige cheered in the background. The lights on the machine brightened and spun, blinding Laura in the eyes.
This was like experiencing déjà vu. I’d lived this moment once before. After the girls finished hounding Laura to send the text, Sarah would pull Laura’s phone out of her pocket and threaten to text for her. I felt a whooshing sound in my ears as I watched Sarah do just that. “Wait!” I cried. “Laura can’t text Jake.” Laura looked at me. I could see the fear in her eyes. It was time to take one for the team. “She’s not the one who likes him. I am.”
“You like him?” Steph repeated.
“Yes.” Shakily, I grabbed Laura’s phone from Sarah’s sweaty hand. “So if anyone is going to text Jake about liking him, it’s me.” I quickly found Jake’s name—Laura had his name in her phone forever, not that she’d ever texted him before—and I wrote him a text before I could second-guess myself.
Laura: My friend Zoe really likes you!
I hit send. The girls all shrieked. I looked at Laura, but I couldn’t read her expression. She looked relieved…and yet kind of not. Reagan and Jada were watching from the corner of the room, and I wondered what they were thinking. I was proud of myself. I’d stopped Laura from being humiliated. I had been cool and played the game well. And I had taken the fall for Laura. Who cared what Jake thought of the text? It’s not like I actually liked him. Laura knew that. This was a win. I half expected to disappear on the spot.
“Wow, I had no idea you had it in you, Zoe.” Hyacinth high-fived me. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Steph was still staring at the phone. “I wonder what he’ll say! Wait! There’s text bubbles.” The girls crowded around Laura’s phone. “Wait for it!”
“Zoe, come sing a Taylor song with me.” Ava pulled me over to the karaoke machine.
“One sec!” I spun around, looking for Laura. She was standing in front of the doorway to the boiler room, next to the closet with the washer and dryer. I rushed over. The washer was loud. “Hey,” I whispered. “I hope that was okay. I had to improvise, but I didn’t want them knowing you—”
Laura whirled around. She was crying. “You like Jake Graser too? How could you do this to me?”
I jumped back in surprise and heard the washer hit the spin cycle. “I don’t! I swear! I only said that so they wouldn’t know you like him.”
“Now he thinks you like him instead of me!” Laura hissed.
“He doesn’t even know who I am!” I insisted as the spinning sound increased. “This is ridiculous! You know I don’t like him, Laura. I was trying to help you.”
Laura took deep gulping breaths. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe it. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am your best friend!” My heart started to beat fast again, and my mouth was dry. How had this spiraled out of control? “Laura, I swear on every secret ever told in the tree house—I don’t like Jake Graser, okay?”
There was a scream from the other end of the room.
“Jake wrote back!” Steph shouted. “He said ‘Do you mean Zoe Mitchell? She’s cute’!” The girls screamed again. Reagan bit her lip.
Laura locked eyes with me. She looked so hurt that I couldn’t breathe. The expression was quickly replaced with one of anger. “Thanks, Zoe. I hope you’re really happy together.” She brushed past me.
“Laura, wait. No!” I reached for her arm, but she pulled out of my reach. I heard Taylor Swift’s voice fill the room.
“Zoe! Come on!” Ava yelled. “Sing with me!”
This was all wrong. I didn’t want things to end this way! I needed to fix this, but how? Could I go back to tonight and try it again? Yes. I’d just start over. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was still warm to the touch. I walked into the boiler room and quietly closed the door, then pulled up the app. The picture of Laura and me at the sleepover was there, but there was a filmy pink haze over it. The app seemed to be locked on the photo, and the back arrow button was missing. What did that mean? Please let me have another do-over. Please! I closed my eyes.
“I wish I could start over and retake this picture again,” I told the universe, hoping that saying the words out loud would make them come true.
Nothing happened.
Taylor hit the first chorus, and the girls’ voices only grew louder.
“Zoe, come on already!”
I opened my eyes. I was still there. No. No. No. No!
I looked at the picture again, feeling panicked. Why wasn’t this working? Couldn’t I do the same memory over twice? What if I couldn’t? I couldn’t be stuck here! Laura hated me!
I kept tapping the faded picture over and over, then closed the app and reopened it. Miraculously, it finally clicked over to my feed. All of my pictures—even ones I hadn’t posted—seemed to be uploaded to the app now. There was the picture of my lobster dinner, and Taryn and me on a battlefield with some soldiers from a reenactment, and even the selfie I’d just taken on my bed before I discovered the app. At least that would take me back to the present. If this app still worked.
“Zoe!” I heard my name being called again, and panicked.
I clicked the back arrow on the picture of me on my bed and immediately saw a giant flash, just like I had the first time. Then I blinked and was gone.
When I opened my eyes, my phone was still in my hand. All I heard was silence. And snoring.
Taryn.
She snored louder than a freight train. I could always hear her, even though she was a room away.
I sat up and looked around. It was dark, but I could see the outline of the mirror on my closet door, and the pictures I had taped on it.
I unlocked my phone and quickly checked the date: September 6. I’d made it back! I threw my head back on my pillow and exhaled slowly.
Either that was the craziest dream I ever had or that app really worked.
I hit the home button on my phone and the screen cast a warm glow over my bed. Then I started scrolling through the pages of apps I had (most of which I didn’t even use). At some point, I’d even downloaded Fake-a-Tan Filters.
And then there it was, the glowing fluorescent pink icon.
The Retake app was real.
I screamed into my pillow to keep from waking up the entire house. How could this be? Did other people have this app too? And how did it wind up on my phone? I still didn’t understand how the app worked or why it had appeared, but I was never letting this phone out of my sight—this was my way to fix things!
I opened the app and searched through my feed for the picture of Laura and me in our sleeping bags from the original sleepover. It felt like I was scrolling forever. There were so many pictures I didn’t even remember taking! Finally, I found one from the weekend before school ended this past spring.
Huh.
That was weird.
The picture of Laura and me at the sleepover was gone.
Instead, it had been replaced with the picture of me with the drama queens that Laura wasn’t even in. My heart started to pound. Was this really the only picture we took that night? It looked like Ava had posted this photo, and then I’d reposted it with Ava’s original hashtag, #sleepoverprepwiththeog.
“OG”? I wasn’t part of their group.
Below the picture were comments. Laura’s was first. It was a kissy-face emoji.
 
; That was a good sign. If Laura was using the kissy-face emoji, then she couldn’t still be mad at me about the Jake Graser text! I must have explained what happened and all was forgiven.
I read the other comments: Steph had written So hot and Ava had written BFFs! Even Hyacinth had commented on my post, writing best night ever! So I guess things between us had improved from there. Was I part of their group now?
My eyes felt so heavy, I could barely keep reading without the words on the screen starting to swim. But I felt happy. Maybe Laura and I were our old selves again and I didn’t even need to go back to that night. But if we weren’t—I yawned so wide it seemed to crack my jaw—I could just click on this picture in the morning and start all over again.
* * *
“Zo-Zo! Wake up!”
“So tired,” I mumbled, turning away from the offending voice.
“Come on, Zoe Golightly. You’re going to be late.”
“Zoe Golightly”?
Only Taryn called me that, and it had been years since she’d done so. Back when we were in this Breakfast at Tiffany’s phase, we called each other Taryn Golightly and Zoe Golightly and spent every waking minute that rainy summer rewatching Audrey Hepburn movies. This was when Taryn actually talked to—rather than barked at—me. Come to think of it, it was the summer before she started middle school.
Middle school ruins everything.
I turned over, curious. Taryn was smiling at me.
Her smile quickly turned into a frown. Oh no.
Taryn thumbed a piece of the pale teal top she was wearing. It had a V-neck with tiny rope braiding across it. “Is it all right if I borrow this to wear today?”
Huh? I didn’t recognize the top. We never shared clothes.
“It’s not Ava’s chosen color for Monday, is it?” Taryn asked.
Ava who? Ava what?
Taryn sat down on the edge of my bed. “Please? I swear I won’t get anything on it. I won’t even go out to lunch. It will be clean and back in your drawer tomorrow.” She flashed me the dimple in her right cheek. “I’ll even let you wear those ripped jeans you love so much.”