by Gregory Ashe
Chapter 19, Friday 9 September
“So what are you going to do for the Harvest Festival?” Mary asked.
“For what?” I said.
“God, we’ve been talking about it for fifteen minutes,” she said. “Are you even paying attention?” Her irritation with me for dating Olivia had not gotten any better.
“Um, sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. What do people do?”
“Oh my God,” was her frustrated response.
“Calm down, Mary,” Taylor said. “It’s just a big excuse for people to do all sorts of lame stuff. Marksmanship competitions, fattest animals, cutest animals, best pie, best Dutch oven meal, biggest vegetable—don’t worry, there are subcategories there—it goes on and on. There is even a fall flower competition.”
“Probably that,” I said. “Mom’s been gardening a lot since we moved in.” The thought of my parents having anything to do with a harvest festival was amusing, but my friends seemed to think it was expected.
“And you?” Mary asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Nothing. What are you doing?”
“Pie competition,” she said smugly.
“Someone in her family always wins; they basically just compete with each other,” Wyatt said.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Three-legged race,” he said.
“With whom?”
Wyatt turned bright red, and Taylor and Shawn both started laughing.
“What’s going on?”
“Just tell him,” Shawn said to Wyatt.
“God, just don’t spread it around, ok?” He glared at each of us, but especially at me and Mary. Olivia, for whatever reason, he did not seem worried about. “Ok?”
“Ok,” Mary and I chimed.
“I’ve got a . . . girlfriend.”
“Well don’t sound so happy about it,” Mary snapped.
“No, I am happy about it, she’s amazing.”
“But?” Mary said.
“Wow,” I said. “There doesn’t have to be a but.” I glanced at Wyatt. “Does there?”
“I met her online,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms.
Mary let out a snicker, but she stifled it at Taylor’s glare.
“That’s wonderful,” Olivia said. “Have you met her? I mean, face to face?”
“We’re going to meet in person at the Harvest Festival,” Wyatt said. The look on his face made it clear he was waiting for us to laugh at him.
“Congratulations,” I said. “What’s her name?”
“Abby.”
“Well that’s really awesome,” I said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Yeah,” Olivia said. “We’ll have to do a big group date.”
And those were the words the popped the mood like a balloon. Mary’s face turned bright red, and she stood up without a word and marched from the cafeteria. Mary, the only one at the table who was still single.
“Oh, I should have kept my mouth shut,” Olivia said.
“It’s not your fault,” Taylor said. “She’s been super sensitive lately. I don’t know why.”
“I’m going to go see if I can talk to her.” Before anyone could stop her, Olivia left the table and followed after Mary.
“Oh my gosh, we’re going to make the cutest Homecoming party,” Taylor said, pressing against Shawn’s arm to talk to me. “I hope we can find someone for Mary. Do you think you could ask one of your friends to ask her?”
“Um, you guys kind of are my friends,” I said.
Taylor blinked her close-set eyes once.
“How are you going to ask Olivia?” Wyatt said. “I need some ideas.”
“I already gave you the best one,” Shawn said with a laugh.
“Don’t tease him,” Taylor said. “Seriously, Alex, how are you going to ask her? Oh, it needs to be super cute, she’s so artsy, you can’t just be boring about it or she’ll hate it.”
“She will?”
“Oh my gosh, yes!” The last came out with aggravated insistence.
“I . . . don’t know. I hadn’t been planning on asking her.”
It was like I’d fired a gun. Everyone froze. Silence descended on us.
“But it’s Homecoming,” Taylor finally said.
“Dude, she’s going to be expecting you to ask her,” Shawn said. He leaned in, and I could smell his uber-sporty cologne again, a reminder of our very different social positions. “Everyone goes to Homecoming here.”
The words fell into the pit of my stomach like rocks. “Everyone?”
“Yeah, you’re kind of late asking her as it is,” Wyatt said.
“You haven’t asked Abby yet,” I said.
“Yeah, but Abby and I haven’t been dating for a couple weeks already.”
Olivia was walking toward us. “Hell, she’s coming back,” I said.
“Well, I don’t recommend that as a way to ask her,” Taylor said. “But you know her better than I do.”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks as Olivia took her seat next to me.
“I couldn’t find her,” Olivia said. She took a moment, looking at each of us, staring at me the longest. “What happened here?”
Mercifully, before I had to answer, the lunch room exploded.
At least, that’s how it felt. A series of bangs, the smell of cheap fireworks, and suddenly confetti was raining down from ceiling. I tried to cover my food and Olivia’s, but it was pointless; it was those tiny circles of confetti, like from a hole-punch, and it got into everything. My appetite had been coming back since I’d started dating Olivia, and I stared at the remaining half of my sandwich, now covered with confetti. I had wanted to eat that.
“Oh my God,” came a scream.
I glanced up. A huge banner hung across the front of the cafeteria with crudely painted letters. “Ashley Snyder, will you go to Homecoming with me?” The eponymous Ashley stood there, hands clasped together in front of her, a huge smile on her face. I knew her; she was the pretty, but secretly smart girl from English class. Too blonde, too tan, too thin. She was probably going to end up being an outrageously successful dermatologist or plastic surgeon or lawyer someday.
Kneeling down in front of her, a bouquet of roses in his hands, was the guy who had saved me from Chad and his friends. Mike. Ashley squealed a response I didn’t hear, and he got to his feet, wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her, bending her back, like something you’d see in a movie, and a sound of awe and adoration rippled through the cafeteria. Except for me. There was something angry and hot in my chest. I tossed my ruined sandwich into my bag, got to my feet, and left the lunch room. Olivia called after me, but I pretended I couldn’t hear her; I still had no idea what I was going to do about Homecoming, but the thought of facing her, of asking her to go to the dance with me, made me quicken my step so I could lose her in the halls.