Tangled #3

by Taylor Morris

  One thing I knew for sure—I had to end that awkwardness, once and for all.

  CHAPTER 23

  I thought Saturdays at the salon were busy. After word hit town on Sunday that the salon had been deemed a major success by the biggest hair celeb around, Sunday was busier than ever.

  Rowan and Karen were totally slammed with facials, waxings, manicures, and pedicures. Mom immediately drafted up some job descriptions for the new employees she’d have to hire. If people who called couldn’t get one of the new services, they went ahead and booked with one of the stylists, just so they could be in the salon Cecilia von Tressell had deemed Best Tressed.

  I was running around like I always do at the salon, but now that we were officially two levels, I had to run that much more. And because there was that much more space, there were that many more clients—including Ms. Carlisle, my English teacher.

  She was just about to go into the little room for a massage when she spotted me.

  “Hello, Mickey,” she said, the cotton robe cinched around her waist. Her face was makeup-free and her hair was slicked back into a ponytail. She looked relaxed even before she went in for the massage. “I was wondering if I’d see you here.”

  “Hi, Ms. Carlisle,” I said. It always felt awkward to see a teacher outside of school.

  “You know, I wanted to tell you,” she began, tilting her head as if to see me in a different way. “I haven’t finished grading all the tests from yesterday yet, but I did read your essay on friendship. I thought it was clever how you used a real-life example of unconditional friendship when you spoke of your friend Eve. Well done.”

  Thank goodness! I didn’t know how I did on the rest of the test, but at least I did one thing right. “Thanks, Ms. Carlisle!”

  She smiled. “See you in class, Mickey.”

  After that I felt an extra spring in my step as I raced around the salon. When I brought Cynthia, Karen’s assistant, some extra cotton I noticed Lizbeth sitting in one of the new pedicure chairs, testing the backmassage settings. Her mom was heading into one of the small rooms for a massage.

  “Hey, there,” I said. “What do you think of all this?”

  “It’s so amazing,” she said, looking around the basement—now anointed The Underground. “I feel like I have to talk quieter down here. It’s so relaxing.”

  “I know,” I said. “I have to slow down when I come down the stairs.”

  Lizbeth leaned back in the chair, finding the perfect massage setting, while Cynthia dipped her feet in the warm, soapy water below. “Kristen and I were talking,” Lizbeth said, “and we think now that this crazy week is over, we should have a real girls’ night.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “But really—no boys allowed.”

  “Hey, I can do it if you can,” she said with a smile.

  “Please! You can’t keep away from Matthew for two seconds.”

  “I don’t see him anywhere here,” Lizbeth said, looking around. “But I do know that you and Kyle hung out alone Friday night. With food. That’s a date.”

  “First of all,” I said, “we had both been exiled. Food under extreme circumstances doesn’t count.”

  “It’s a date,” Lizbeth said, grinning at me as the balls of the massage chair rolled up her back. “That means you’ve been on two now.”

  “We have not,” I said, now fully blushing.

  “Friday night plus Thursday after school—you, Kyle, and Bended Brook. Total date.”

  “That was not a date. I was only covering for Jonah, who flaked out on him. I was doing Kyle a favor.”

  “Right,” Eve said. “And who paid for dinner on Friday?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, because she was starting to convince me.

  “But come on, Mickey. Be honest,” Lizbeth said. “You like him, don’t you? It’s okay to admit it.”

  “I know,” I said. I guess I did like him. I liked him and I didn’t have to act crazy about it. I liked him and I still worked at the salon and hung out with my friends (when they were around, that is) and I didn’t act like someone else when I was with him. Okay, maybe I was a bit goofier around him, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe that’s just what happens when you like someone. You want them to like you back so you think about every move you make and everything you say, hoping they don’t think you’re full of dork.

  “Fine, I admit it,” I said. “I like him. Like him, like him.”

  “You know, Mickey,” Lizbeth said as Cynthia worked her feet and the chair worked her back, “being a girlfriend isn’t so horrible. And it definitely doesn’t mean being someone you’re not. At least, it shouldn’t.”

  “I know.”

  “So if you like Kyle, and he obviously likes you, then you should see where that might go. Ask him out.”

  I got a little sick feeling in my stomach. “On a date?”

  “Why not?” She smiled. “You’ve already been on two.”

  I thought about how I felt when his hand was in mine and how easy it was to talk to him, even when it was just the two of us.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  “Call him now,” Lizbeth urged.

  “No way,” I said.

  “Mickey, do it,” Lizbeth said.

  “I don’t think I get reception down here,” I said. I pulled my phone out of my new apron pocket and looked at the screen. I had four full bars. “He’s probably not even around. I doubt he’ll answer.”

  “Come on,” she nudged me. “Call!”

  What did I have to lose? I could just do it now and get it over with. So I opened my contacts and, heart pounding, searched for his name. What if I’d misread him this whole time? What if he didn’t think I was cool? Or pretty? What if he thought of me as just a decent chick to hang out with when Jonah wasn’t around? What if he told me—

  “Mickey!” Devon called from the stairs. “You have a visitor.”

  I looked at Lizbeth. She turned to Devon and asked, “Is it a boy?”

  Devon nodded. “Kyle, he said.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Lizbeth said, practically squealing. “Meant to be!”

  I started toward the stairs with Lizbeth calling, “Text me!” as I left. I turned and waved before I lost sight of her.

  Upstairs, Kyle stood next to a five-foot potted plant by the door as if he wanted to hide behind it.

  “Hey,” I said.

  When he saw me, a smile spread across his face and he didn’t look uncomfortable anymore. “Hi, Mickey.” He grabbed his skateboard, which had been leaning against the wall. “I’m not going to get you in trouble, am I? Coming by?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Everyone is pretty slammed.”

  The salon was buzzing, but Giancarlo had enough time to stop by Megan’s desk and give me and Kyle a once-over.

  “Want to go outside?” I asked, eager to escape those kinds of looks.

  We stepped out on the sidewalk, a cool breeze blowing down Camden Way.

  “I didn’t come by for any reason,” he said as we walked slowly. We stopped between the stationary store and the flower shop next to it and I leaned against the brick wall. Kyle dropped his board, then propped a foot on it, sliding it back and forth. “I was around and just thought I’d say hi, see how the new space is going.”

  “It’s great,” I said. “We’re busier than ever.”

  “Nothing’s exploded or burned down yet?” he said.

  I smiled. “You sound like Jonah.” I felt jittery around Kyle, but in a good way. Excited, like something amazing was about to happen. “It’s funny. I was just about to call you when you came in.”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

  My throat became dry, but I wanted to push through. “Yeah, I was wondering. If, um, after work tonight—I mean, when I get off work, like around six. I was wondering if you wanted to do something. Go somewhere or hang out. We never did get to go to the Waffle Cone. Together, I mean.”

  It seemed like
there was about forty-five minutes of silence before he answered, “Yeah, sure. That’d be awesome. Should I come back by the salon?”

  “If you don’t mind?”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’ll come back at six.”

  “See you then,” I said. He popped his board and caught it in his hand. He smiled, then dropped it back down, hopped on, and skated down Camden Way. For a moment I watched him go.

  When I went back inside the salon, Giancarlo was still there in the front, almost as if he were waiting for me.

  “Mickey,” he said, tapping the toe of his neon-green boat shoe. “Tell me that boy is finally your boyfriend.”

  Was he? After two sort-of dates, his willingness to help out at the salon, and his helping me through my problems with Eve, could I pretend anymore that he wasn’t?

  I smiled, thinking about Kyle’s thick curls and that crooked front tooth. I thought of how he liked me exactly as I was.

  Did I now have my first-ever boyfriend?

  “Yeah,” I said with a smile. “I think he is.”