Tangled #3

by Taylor Morris

  “Let’s go casually bump into them,” Kristen said. “Wait! Should we hit the ladies’ room first to freshen up? I think I need more lip gloss.”

  “Good idea,” Lizbeth said. Before they took off, Lizbeth turned to me and said, “Mickey, we get what you were trying to do, but you totally have to talk to Eve and Jonah. Make sure Eve knows that you did it because you missed her or—”

  “Come on, they’re choosing games,” Kristen said, tugging on Lizbeth’s arm. “Now’s the perfect time.”

  Lizbeth ran her fingers through her hair. “Text us what happens,” she said to me.

  “Bye, Kyle!” Kristen said. And then they were gone. Folded into the darkness of the noisy arcade.

  That left me standing alone. With Kyle. In the mall on a Friday night.

  Which might have been something to get excited about, except that I’d ruined my friendship with Eve and I had a massive amount of damage control to do on Jonah. I wondered if I’d ever repair either friendship. I’d never seen Jonah so mad. And Eve . . . she could barely look at me before she walked away. Tears began stinging my eyes and my nose started to run. Soon, I was crying. In front of Kyle. In the mall, on a Friday night.

  “Hey, don’t worry, Mickey,” Kyle said, trying to comfort me. “It’ll be okay.”

  “You really think so?” I sniveled. I covered my face with my hands and let it out a bit more.

  Kyle stood quietly next to me while I sobbed. Among all the things I’d done, this was the worst. I couldn’t believe I ever thought for a single second that it was an okay thing to do.

  Finally, I wiped my face and nose as best as I could.

  “I’ll talk to Jonah tomorrow,” Kyle said. “I’m pretty sure they both need some cooling off for the night.”

  “Agreed,” I said, wiping my wet hand on my jeans. The wet smears were tinged with shiny pink, green, and blue makeup. Great. I could use some serious Sephora now to cover up the damage.

  “You know what I like to do when I feel like dirt?” Kyle said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Eat. Huge amounts of junk food. Like sticky cinnamon buns. Sausage pizza. Seven-layer burrito. And that’s just to start. Want to go over to the food court?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  I thought for a moment. I wasn’t even sure I deserved to keep hanging out with Kyle when I messed up my other friendships so bad. But if I had one mini sticky bun, I might feel good enough to begin my plan for fixing things with Jonah and Eve.

  “Well,” I said, “maybe just a little something.”

  We started with hot pretzels and Cokes, then quickly headed for hot dogs and pizza. When I pulled my money out of my pocket, Kyle said, “No worries. It’s on me.”

  “Are you sure?” I looked at our trays, piled high with comfort food.

  “Yeah,” he said. “For successfully completing our mission. Even if we destroyed our friendships in the process.”

  “When I do something, I do it big,” I said, managing a small smile.

  We carried our trays back to the table. “I do have a suggestion for the next time we need to help our friends who are dating,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Stay out of it.”

  “Good plan,” he said, and laughed. For a moment, he held my gaze. His soft, wavy curls were getting a tiny bit long, and one was hanging over his forehead. I bit into my pizza, thinking he was a really cute friend. But also knowing that maybe he was becoming more than that.

  CHAPTER 18

  Kyle’s mom picked us up from the mall and drove me home. It was kind of weird sitting alone in the backseat while he sat up front. His mom played light jazz on the radio, and even though it was total old-people music, it was kind of soothing. Nobody spoke, except when his mom asked if we had a good time.

  The knot in my stomach over what I’d done grew as I got closer to home. I had to talk to Jonah. This was big—heading toward unforgiveable territory. I knew that the longer I waited, the angrier he’d be and the more likely I’d be to chicken out.

  When we pulled up outside my house, I thanked Kyle’s mom. Kyle got out with me and we slowly walked to my front door.

  “So . . . you’re okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, I guess.”

  “Want me to talk to Jonah? Maybe break the ice with him?”

  I looked down at my phone, clutched in my hand. How long should I wait to call him? “Nah. Thanks, though.”

  We got to the front door and I realized no one had ever walked me to my door before. In the midst of everything, it was kind of nice.

  “I know it wasn’t exactly the best of circumstances,” Kyle said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes. “But I really had a good time tonight. With you.” He looked up at me quickly and smiled.

  I smiled, too. “Yeah. So did I.”

  “Is it okay if I text you tomorrow or something?”

  I tried to suppress the goofy smile on my face. “Sure.”

  I watched him leave, waving at him as the car pulled away from the curb.

  When I walked into the kitchen, I heard Mom on the phone.

  “I understand that. I already went over this with your supervisor. But we need you there tomorrow.”

  Mom paced back and forth as Dad leaned against the counter and listened. She had on cotton pj bottoms and a silk front-tied blouse, plus the ballet slippers she wore around the house. It looked like she’d been caught in the middle of changing out of her work clothes. I looked at Dad. Their grim faces said something was wrong.

  “I don’t know what happened,” she said, agitated. “I’m trying to fix it. On a tight schedule.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked Dad.

  He shook his head, focusing on Mom’s call like she was an episode of his favorite TV drama.

  “Did Cecilia give her recommendations?” I asked, but he waved me away.

  “Yes, in buttercream,” Mom said. “Please call back as soon as you know. Thank you.”

  She ended the call, then put her hand over her eyes. Whatever had just happened, she’d been beat.

  “What’d they say?” Dad asked.

  “They said it’s my problem now. No painters. No paint. How in the world did this happen? What’s it going to look like on TV?”

  “Something’s happening with the show?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I need to find Cecilia’s number,” Mom said, rifling through some papers on the table. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to call her this late in the evening. I can’t believe I’m going to have to call her at all.”

  “Mom?”

  She shoved aside the pile of papers and started digging through her bag. “The paints and painters were supposed to come this evening to start work on the basement. That was Cecilia’s big recommendation—to renovate the basement. But they never showed and I’ve been trying to get someone to talk to me all night. The painters not showing threw off the schedule for the flooring, which throws off the schedule for the electrician, which throws the schedule for the delivery of the new equipment . . . everything is off. We don’t have any extra time because this all has to be done by six tomorrow evening.”

  “By six?” I asked. Wow—I knew the schedules were tight, but man.

  I’d had so much on my mind, what with ruining friendships and all, but when she mentioned paints, and buttercream, I started to think . . .

  “Is the name of the paint you’re using called buttercream?” I asked Mom.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Oh.” My stomach dropped. Not again.

  Mom stopped and looked at me. “Why?”

  “It’s just that, someone called,” I said. “Earlier tonight, when Megan went to CJ’s to get some tea. I’m sure it’s—”

  Mom’s phone rang, and she quickly answered it.

  “Cecilia! Hello, how are you? Yes, I was just about to call you.” Mom paused while Cecilia said something. Her mou
th dropped into an o.

  “There? At your hotel? Oh my . . .” Mom put her hand back over her eyes. “I’m not sure what happened but we’re certainly fixing it right now. I’m so sorry you had to call me. Yes. I will. Okay. Good-bye.”

  Mom hung up and looked at Dad. “You won’t believe where the paints ended up,” she said.

  “Cecilia’s hotel,” I answered.

  Mom turned to me. “How did you know that?”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you. There was a call tonight that I didn’t think anything about until now. Some guy called about a delivery for Cecilia and I thought he meant for Cecilia . . .” Mom watched me carefully as my skin heated up. “I told him what hotel she was at so they could deliver it to her. I thought he was delivering cupcakes,” I said, feeling so foolish. “You know, because of the buttercream?”

  Mom had a steady look in eyes as she struggled to maintain control. “Megan left you to answer the phone? Where was I?”

  “You’d gone to run errands,” I said, hoping Megan didn’t get in trouble. “She was only gone, like, five minutes, so I worked the desk.”

  “I should be told about anything that has anything to do with Cecilia, the show, or the salon. Do you not understand that? This is about my business, Mickey.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling shaky. “I’m sorry.”

  “I need to get to the hotel,” she said, tossing things back in her purse.

  “I’ll go with you,” Dad said.

  “I’d rather do it alone,” she said tersely.

  “Chloe, I’m coming with you,” Dad insisted.

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” I said. But she wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t know.”

  She stormed upstairs to get dressed again. It was worse than being yelled at. Way worse.

  For the second time in about four hours, I started crying. I covered my eyes like Mom had done, like I had done at the mall, and let it all out. I didn’t think I had any tears left, but the tank had been refilled, ready to overflow again.

  “Oh, honey,” Dad said soothingly, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, it’s okay. Mom and I will take care of it.”

  “I . . . ruined . . . the show . . . ,” I choked through my tears.

  “You didn’t ruin the show.”

  “I ruined everything,” I sobbed, thinking of all that I had done in just a day. “Everyone hates me.”

  “No one hates you.”

  “Eve does,” I cried. “Jonah does.”

  “Why would Jonah hate you?”

  “Because,” I sniffed, “I told him Eve hates roller-skating.”

  Dad kind of laughed at that. “I’m sure he’s okay with that. Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

  I wiped my nose. Jonah used to be the person I’d go to when I had problems, but now I had no one. Thinking that made my eyes sting with fresh tears but I forced them back.

  “I was upset that Jonah and Eve were together every second of the day,” I said. “I thought they’d forgotten who their real friends were. So I just told a little story to keep them from going out together for one night and it all blew up in my face.”

  Dad dropped his hand from my shoulder and said, “Well, that’s usually what happens when you lie.”

  “I know,” I said miserably. “I was stupid to even think to do it. I just have to convince Jonah and Eve that I really am sorry I did it.”

  “Mickey, I have to say,” Dad began, and I knew it wasn’t going to be good. “Your mom and I did not raise you to lie. Do you know what would happen if you lied to one of us?” I looked up at him through my tears. “We’d ground you for about a month, and that’s just for starters. Lying is not something we tolerate.”

  “I know,” I said quietly.

  “Haven’t you and Eve had some issues recently?” he asked. I nodded. That was putting it lightly. “All I can say is it sounds like you have a lot of work to do.”

  I nodded again. I couldn’t even speak.

  Dad and Mom left to go get the paints. I sat in the kitchen thinking about what to do next. Should I go to work tomorrow? Would Mom even want me there? I wasn’t sure, but I knew that after all I’d done lately it was time I start figuring things out on my own.

  So I made a decision: I would go to work and help Mom as best as I could. And I would help by doing something to fix the damage I’d created.

  As for Eve and Jonah, I’d do absolutely whatever it took to get them to trust me again. I started by sending Jonah a text:

  Can I talk to you? Your porch in 5? Please?

  I waited anxiously for a response—anything, just a single word from him to know how he was feeling toward me. Moments later, I got exactly one word back:

  Kay.

  Before I could even walk up to the back door, Jonah stepped out. I couldn’t tell if he was glaring at me, or squinting through the porch lights.

  “Hey,” he said, shutting the door behind him, like he didn’t even want me coming in his house.

  “Hey,” I said. He sat down on one of the chaise longue chairs on the deck. I sat across from him.

  He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He laced his fingers together, and with his eyes on them said, “Dude, seriously.”

  “I know—”

  “This is so not cool.”

  “I know—”

  He looked up at me, his cowlick mushed flat on his hairline, just like it always did. “Are you jealous that I’ve been hanging out with Eve?”

  “No!” I said, the words flying out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about it. “Why would I be jealous? My two favorite people are together!”

  “We were talking about it,” he said, “and we both realized that you don’t act like you’re happy about it. You act like you’re pretty mad about it.”

  They were talking about me? My two best friends were talking about me? I hadn’t expected that to happen when they got together. And I wasn’t sure I liked it at all.

  “I told you,” I said, feeling desperate. “I just missed Eve and hanging out with the girls.”

  “Meanwhile you’re hanging out with Kyle,” Jonah pointed out.

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Tell him that.”

  We sat silently, staring each other down. I couldn’t deal with that now, not that I wanted to. Jonah—and Eve—were more important.

  “I just want you to know that I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interfere. I didn’t want to get you and Eve into such a big misunderstanding, that’s for sure.” Jonah didn’t say anything, he just kept his eyes on his stilllaced fingers. “What are you going to do about Kyle?”

  “I texted him earlier,” Jonah said. “We’re meeting up tomorrow.”

  I perked up. “You guys are cool again?”

  “I’ll see what he has to say, just like I’m doing with you.”

  My shoulders sank. This was harder than I’d thought it would be. And I still had to apologize to Eve, as well.

  “But even if I forgive him,” Jonah said, “it’s different with you.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Because he’s a guy?”

  “No,” Jonah said, annoyed. He stood up. “Because he’s not my best friend. You are.”

  I stood up, too. What did he mean, “You are”? Like, maybe we could get past this latest mistake?

  “Eve really needs to hear from you,” he said, his hand on the back door. “Okay?”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  Jonah looked at me one last time before opening the door and going inside, leaving me standing alone on his porch.

  Before I left, I dialed Eve’s number. Do not pass go, do not bother texting, just go straight to the phone call. It was the next best thing to showing up at her door.

  Of course, it went straight to voice mail. I was sure she was screening my calls.

  “Eve,” I said when I heard the beep. “I’m mortified. I’m so sorry about what I did, honestly. I didn’t mean for you
and Jonah to get in a fight. I just . . . it was stupid of me, okay? The truth is . . . maybe I was a little jealous of all the time you two were spending together. I don’t know. Maybe I’m also confused about my own feelings for Kyle, which I’ve been wanting to talk to you about but haven’t had a chance because you’ve been so busy . . .” I knocked my head with the heel of my hand. That was not relevant! “That’s not what I mean. I just mean—”

  The voice mail beeped, cutting off my terrible speech. I called again.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Again. I didn’t mean that it’s your fault for not being around to talk about Kyle—who I have nothing going on with! Oh, shoot. This is the worst apology ever. What I did has nothing to do with anyone but me. And I’m really sorry, Eve. I hope you’ll call me back because I really want to tell you in person and not over some recording. Okay? Please? Okay. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone, wondering if I’d just made things even worse.

  I sent off a quick text for good measure:

  Just left you vm. Pls listen. I’m so sorry!!!!

  Then I went home.

  CHAPTER 19

  I woke up early Saturday morning, the orangegold sun shining through my open curtains. My first thoughts were of Kyle and of him standing in the mall with me, looking pretty cute in a dark blue T-shirt and dark jeans. As soon as I pictured the mall, I pictured Eve, then Jonah and the rest of my friends.

  My friends. I wondered if any of them still were.

  Then I thought about Hello, Gorgeous! I wondered if Mom would have a salon left after today. I’d come up with a plan as I’d drifted off to sleep last night. Now I had to put it into action.

  I had to start my day—even this early—with Jonah. Above everyone else, he was the most important.

  I texted him a pleading message for the second time in eight hours:

  Wake up! Semi emergency! Meet in your yard. Please!

  I splashed some water on my face and brushed my teeth. Then I gently ran a comb through my curled and slightly frizzed hair, tossed on some clothes, and headed out.