How to Speak Boy

by Tiana Smith

  “Of course I know that. It’s why it’s so cheap.”

  “We can do better.”

  I sighed. “Why do you have to make everything a competition?”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer. I supposed he didn’t really need to. That was just who Grayson was. It was what we did.

  “Listen,” I tried again. “If we call the pizza place, we can be done with this in a few minutes and then we don’t have to deal with each other.”

  “What if that’s not what I want?”

  He was infuriating. Was he saying he wanted to prolong this torture? Or that he simply didn’t want pizza? As if he knew his statement could be read two ways, he smiled.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not going to find anything else within budget.”

  He pulled out his phone and opened his browser. “It’s nice to know you have so little faith in me.”

  Well. I didn’t need to answer that.

  He took out a piece of paper and started writing places and phone numbers down, separating it into two lists with our names on top. When he had about ten on each side, he punched a number in his phone, then held it up to his ear. He motioned for me to start on my list, but I didn’t move.

  Cold calls were the worst thing in the world. Worse than nuts in baked goods. Worse than spam emails with no way to unsubscribe. What if the person who answered the call couldn’t hear me clearly and I had to shout here in the library? What if the person on the other end of the line asked me something I didn’t know the answer to?

  I didn’t pick up my phone because I needed to hear what Grayson said, so that I could perfectly parrot back the same thing to the people on my list.

  “Hello,” Grayson said into his phone. “Is there a manager or someone I could speak to about catering an event?”

  I replayed his words in my mind, committing them to memory.

  He paused while someone else presumably came to the phone.

  “Hi, my name is Grayson Hawks and I’m with BHS’s speech and debate team. We’re hosting a tournament in early March and I was wondering about your prices for catering and what size group you can accommodate.”

  That was a lot of information to try to remember, and I felt the words slipping in my mind. I was focusing so intently, I missed what Grayson said next. How was he so good at this? How was he so good at everything? It wasn’t fair for him to always be the best. Didn’t he know that it made the rest of us look bad?

  I didn’t even want to call all these places in the first place, and now I was going to look like a fool in front of Grayson. Again.

  “And what does that include?” Grayson asked after a moment of silence. It broke my concentration and I forgot everything he’d said previously. My hands started to sweat.

  Why didn’t businesses have a texting option? They’d get a whole lot more business that way.

  “Great, thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

  Grayson hung up his phone and crossed the top name on his list off. “They’d be four times more expensive.” He turned to face me. “Aren’t you going to call too?”

  I looked at him with wide eyes, my tongue already feeling dry in my mouth.

  “What’s the matter, Edwards?” he asked, taking in my expression. “You’re not scared of a phone call, are you?” One corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile.

  Smug jerk. I couldn’t let him have the upper hand again.

  I clutched my phone and forced myself to dial the number at the top of my list, trying not to let my hand shake.

  “Thank you for calling Boise Bagels,” a female voice said in my ear. “How can I help you today?”

  I struggled to remember what Grayson had said. Something about food. Obviously. Oh!

  “Hi, I need to talk to your manager.” My words came out in a rush, the relief over remembering my line making my words sharper than I intended.

  “Oh!” Her voice sounded startled. “Did you have a complaint you needed to file?”

  What? No. Where’d she get that idea? This was precisely why phone calls were so awful.

  Grayson was watching me with his eyebrows raised and I tried to focus my attention back on the conversation at hand.

  “No, nothing’s wrong with you. I mean, I need help, but—” I realized my comment could have been interpreted in multiple ways, and Grayson’s resulting laughter scrambled my thoughts even further. This was not going well.

  “I’m sorry?” the girl on the other line said. “How can I help you?”

  Focus, Quinn.

  “Yes. Sorry.” I took a deep breath, but my mind was blank. Completely empty. “Uh. Food! My school needs food.”

  “Are you part of a government-assisted program?” Honestly, she sounded just as confused as I was, so at least I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable here.

  “No, it’s for our speech and debate team.” Finally, the first sentence I said that made any kind of sense.

  She paused before answering. Then she said, “You’re on speech and debate?” It was obvious Grayson heard her reply through my earpiece, because he was shaking with silent laughter. I slugged him in the arm, but this only made him laugh harder. This was all his fault. If he’d just stuck with the cheap pizza, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Really, there was nothing I could do to salvage this conversation. I wanted to hang up, but I couldn’t give Grayson the satisfaction. Then again, maybe if I hung up, he’d see that I’d been right all along and he’d go along with the pizza plan.

  I realized I’d been silent for entirely too long, and I panicked again.

  “You know what?” the girl asked. “My manager’s not in the store at the moment, so how about you call back tomorrow between eight and five o’clock?”

  Relief coursed through my veins. I could finally put this conversation out if its misery.

  “Yes, okay. Thank you.” I hung up.

  Grayson couldn’t hold it back anymore and he laughed out loud. I put my head on the table and covered it with my arms. I needed this day to be over. I couldn’t plan this state tournament anymore. Not like this. This was why I didn’t want to share captaining responsibilities in the first place. If I could have done this all my way, I’d be done by now.

  “Please can we just do the pizza?” I mumbled through my arms. They were already expecting our call, so it wouldn’t be half as awkward. In fact, I was pretty sure I could do it all through email, which was even better.

  Grayson poked my arm, but I didn’t raise my head.

  “Wow, Quinn, I’ve never known you to be a quitter.”

  This made me sit up.

  “It’s not quitting to do things the expected way.” I could feel the heat creeping higher on my neck. “Besides, pizza is something most people can agree on. Half these places on your list aren’t going to go over well with a majority of people. Especially if they’re already expecting a large cheese with breadsticks.”

  I was gaining steam now and motioned in the air with my hands. “What if the judges don’t like spicy food? We have to go with safer options. Most the places you have listed are specialized. Like when you’re in a specific mood. And there’s no way those places will be any cheaper.”

  He nodded slowly like he was actually considering my argument. Miracle of miracles. I pulled up the pizza website on my phone so I could find their email. Grayson put a hand on my arm and I tried not to react.

  “Don’t call them yet.” He withdrew his hand. “I have an idea. Would you say most people like sandwiches?” He had one eyebrow arched, like he was obviously up to something.

  “I guess,” I said, squirming. I didn’t like not knowing what to expect, and clearly Grayson had an end goal in mind.

  “And chicken? Like fried chicken or grilled?”

  I nodded hesitantly. I could already feel myself losing, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

  “What if I were to say we could get a variety of safe choices that people can pick from, and probably for cheaper tha
n the pizza?”

  This actually made me snort.

  “I’d say it wasn’t likely. Any place that caters a variety of food will charge you for the convenience.”

  He nodded. “Unless that place wasn’t a caterer. Unless that place was…” He paused dramatically. “A grocery store.”

  I frowned, but Grayson kept talking. “Think about it. The deli counter at Albertson’s could easily handle it, and they’d probably give us a killer discount.”

  I hated that he was right. Pizza would probably be cheaper overall, but the deli counter would have more variety and wouldn’t cost a whole lot more.

  “Fine.” I pushed the paper back toward him. “You call them. I’m going to input all the specifics into the tab room website so we can start organizing all the volunteer judges.”

  “We don’t need to do that yet,” Grayson said. “I think you’re trying to get out of making phone calls.”

  In response, I opened the email Ms. Bates had sent us both that morning and put my phone in front of him.

  “See the part where she says other teams are already asking her about judges? That’s her subtle way of saying we’re dropping the ball.”

  He scrunched up his face. “I think you’re reading into it. We should probably wait until the tournament gets closer. No one’s going to sign up this early.”

  I tried to make my smile light, but it probably came across as patronizing anyway.

  “Maybe other people know a good thing when they see it and they like to lock it down early,” I said. I couldn’t help it.

  He tilted his head. “Or maybe they think too much and analyze a few words to death.”

  I sucked in a breath but didn’t reply. If he was implying I’d overanalyzed what he’d said to Carter, well, there was no way I’d misinterpreted that.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. That was a jerky thing to say.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. How about you organize that while I call Albertson’s.”

  I nodded stiffly, then tried to ignore him while he punched the numbers into his phone. I pulled out my laptop and went to the tab room site to input everything. It was hard to focus on the details of the state tournament when I couldn’t help fuming over Grayson’s comment. What had happened between us wasn’t my fault. None of it.

  I plugged the dates into the database and tuned out Grayson while he talked on the phone. It really didn’t even take long to put everything up, so I didn’t know why he was so against getting it done early. I always liked checking things off my list rather than worrying about them later, but did that mean I took things too seriously, as Grayson sometimes implied?

  I hit submit, then breathed a sigh of relief. One less thing for me to remember later.

  “Yes, two separate days,” Grayson said. “Friday and Saturday.” He paused, then said, “Good question, I’m not actually sure.”

  That was what I hated about phone calls. You couldn’t prepare for every possibility, and chances were, the other person was going to put you on the spot. That was why I preferred memorized speech events. We should have had Carter make these phone calls. He was the one who could speak whatever was on his mind without worrying about the repercussions.

  I felt a pang just thinking about him. We’d barely spoken since that that day in the stairwell. I missed the way he took over the spotlight in any conversation so that I could melt into the background. It took the pressure off to know he’d willingly jump in and shoulder that social responsibility.

  Then I could avoid awkward situations like this one with Grayson, where I had no idea what to say.

  Grayson hung up the phone and turned to me.

  “I think that will actually work.” He looked entirely too smug about his victory. “I’ll confirm payment and all that with Coach.”

  “Great,” I mumbled, putting my laptop away, standing up from the table, and shouldering my bag. “I’ll send around a sign-up for the Thanksgiving potluck, and I’ll be sure to separate it by food types so that we don’t end up with twenty desserts like last year.”

  He looked wounded, but I needed to get out of here. If he wasn’t going to care about my feelings, then I shouldn’t care about his either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I expected this Thanksgiving potluck to crash and burn at any moment. Things don’t exactly go according to plan when you can’t even stand being around someone long enough to, you know, plan.

  Carter came into Coach Bates’s kitchen and saw me standing behind the counter. The rest of the team was gathering in the living room, but I couldn’t sit still.

  Carter put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

  “So,” he said.

  That was it. So.

  I rearranged the dishes that had already arrived, organizing them by main meals and desserts.

  “So?” I asked back, not really looking up to meet his eyes.

  “I know I suck at apologizing. I’m trying to get better.”

  I gave a short laugh. “You know that still wasn’t an apology, right?” After a couple months of giving him the cold shoulder, I’d hoped he’d catch a clue. That, more than anything, was why our disagreement had gone on so long. Because I refused to forgive someone who wouldn’t even recognize they did something wrong.

  The silence had almost killed me. I could feel our friendship slipping, and I desperately wanted everything back the way it was. I didn’t have that many friends. I couldn’t afford to lose Carter over a stupid fight.

  Carter nodded. “I was getting there.” He gave a rueful smile and ducked his head. “Quinn, I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to see you get hurt, but then I was the one who hurt you. I promise I won’t interfere with Grayson again, if that’s what you want.”

  I sighed. No, that wasn’t what I wanted. Without Carter’s interference, who knew what might have happened with Grayson. Maybe I’d have fallen for his tricks and been in an even worse situation. None of this was really Carter’s fault, but I’d been treating him like it was.

  Besides, as far as apologies went, that one wasn’t half bad. He’d been direct, shouldered the blame, and promised to do better. Wasn’t that almost exactly what I’d told 15211 to do when apologizing to girls? How could I stay mad at Carter when I couldn’t have asked for anything better?

  I fingered the edge of a pie, turning it this way and that. “I’m sorry too, Carter.”

  I looked up. Carter was watching me intently, perhaps sensing to see the truth of my words. Then he took a hesitant step forward. When I didn’t stop him, he came all the way over, and opened his arms for a hug. I stepped into his embrace and let my head rest against his chest. I could feel it when he relaxed.

  “I think that’s the longest we’ve been in a fight for like ten years,” he said. I felt his words rumble beneath my cheek. He was probably right, which was why I didn’t share much boy stuff with him in the first place. I nodded, being careful not to get makeup on his freshly pressed shirt. Coach always made us dress up for the Thanksgiving potluck. Like we didn’t have to do that for all the tournaments. At least this time I wasn’t forced into a pair of pantyhose. “I’ve missed you.”

  Someone coughed by the door, and Carter and I froze. I ducked my head under his arm to see who was there.

  Grayson.

  Of course.

  Carter allowed me out of his arms and I needlessly adjusted my shirt because I couldn’t help but be awkward.

  “I just wanted to make sure you had everything under control in here, but it looks like you have all the help you need.” Grayson’s arms were crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. Like he had any right to be upset. Carter was my friend since childhood. Grayson was just someone who got in my way.

  Indignation flared in my chest and I straightened my spine.

  “Got it covered,” I said, keeping my voice cool. “Thanks.”

  Grayson nodded once, then turned to leave. Before he did, he turned back and met my eyes. “You know, Quinn, I was honest wi
th you when I said I wasn’t playing games.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “You mean it’s honest to kiss me when you like someone else?”

  To lead me on all so you could dump me before the state championship? I didn’t say it, but I wanted to.

  At my side, Carter stiffened. Apparently he hadn’t known that little fact about our kiss, and I immediately felt bad for letting him know this way. Some friend I was.

  I could see Grayson breathe in and out, but he didn’t say anything for a minute. So softly I almost didn’t hear him, he said, “Yeah well, maybe it took me a while to realize how I feel about you.”

  Then he walked out the door.

  I’d heard him correctly. He’d said “feel,” not “felt.” As in, he still liked me. Or was pretending he did? Refusing to stop playing his game even when he got caught? I sucked in a breath while I processed what had just happened. My stomach still felt all fluttery, but now I couldn’t tell if it was from my nervousness over making up with Carter, or being in the same room as Grayson, listening to him say things like that.

  Then my eyes narrowed. It didn’t matter. Grayson was still the top person on my hit list. He’d proven once how easily he could play with my heart, so I shouldn’t be surprised to find him still at it.

  Carter leaned back against the kitchen counter, resting his elbows next to the pie. He shook his head.

  “You always keep me guessing, Quinn.”

  That wasn’t intentional. I tried to be very clear with Carter, especially lately. But it was hard to be friendly toward a guy without them thinking you meant something more by your actions.

  I needed a rulebook for relationships. Something that could tell me exactly what to do to get the results I wanted. Just because I was a pro at public speaking didn’t mean I had the first clue about how to speak boy.

  I sighed and handed Carter a towel, pointing to a spot on the counter he could clean up. “I never know what I’m doing, Carter. So really, I’m guessing as much as you are.”

  “Well, not knowing is half the fun,” Carter said. “Keeps life interesting.”

  I froze. That was almost exactly the same thing 15211 had written back when we’d first started exchanging letters. Maybe it was a common enough phrase, but really, I doubted it. First the apology that followed my formula, and now this?