Pumpkin Spice Secrets

by Hillary Homzie

  “We are so late to class now, but this was worth it,” I say. “Oh, and there’s one more thing I have to give you.” I let out a happy sigh and throw my arms around Jana. “A giant birthday hug!”

  She squeezes me back. “You know, I’m going to have to try that pumpkin spice trick with Lukas.”

  “It’s pretty effective,” I admit. “Just make sure it’s not a hot drink. I think ice is safer and makes quite an impression. You should find out—”

  “Lukas’ favorite drink first and then spill it on him!” Jana finishes my sentence and we both crack up.

  “Great minds—” I start.

  “Think alike!” she cries.

  Chapter Twenty-three:

  THE SECRET IS OUT

  Tuesday speeds by. I feel so much better—relieved, and so happy. I appreciate Jana in a whole new way. How she bounces when she walks, how she texts to remind me that October is Popcorn Month. And mostly how she thinks whatever I do is awesome. When I accidentally put on mismatched socks, she calls it cool and artsy. She begs to see more of my goofy doodles. And she’s really happy that I discovered I like debate.

  Lunch is about a hundred times easier. Seriously. I don’t have to feel so guilty every time I laugh at one of Jacob’s jokes, or when I sneak a glance at him across the table. I can completely be me—no more mixed signals.

  A few days later, during Social Studies, Ms. Yoon says we will no longer be working in our same groups or with the same partners. She explains that we are going to be starting an Ancient Roman history unit and that starting next week, we will be working with all new groups.

  So today is the last day I’ll be sitting with Jacob with our desks pushed together. I can feel my shoulders slumping at the news. For the next fifteen minutes, Ms. Yoon wants partners to discuss and process how we feel our debates went. What we can improve and what we enjoyed about working together.

  “I don’t think we could improve anything,” says Jacob. “Working with you was awesome.” He gives me a high five.

  “Thanks,” I say, suddenly feeling bashful.

  “You were very determined, especially during the rebuttal.”

  “Yeah.” Part of me wants to explain why I was really so heated up, but another part of me knows it will be too awkward to go into all of the details.

  “There’s nothing to improve,” says Jacob. “It’s hard to add awesome on top of awesome.”

  “Yeah, but we won’t be seeing each other so much anymore,” I say, doodling in the corner of my notebook.

  “Well, there’s lunch. And we pass by each other in the hall sometimes.”

  “It’s not the same,” I blurt.

  “Yeah, true.”

  And then I say the bravest thing I’ve maybe ever said. “You want to hang out sometime?”

  He studies me and the seconds stretch between us.

  “Yeah, that’d be great. How about this Friday after school? We could meet at the Friendly Bean.”

  Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to leap out of my chair and do some kind of victory dance. Instead, I breathe in and out slowly and try to contain my excitement. “Yeah, sure. That’d be awesome.” Was I being too gushy?

  But he doesn’t take back the offer. “So, around five? I’ve got to walk my neighbor’s dog. They’re away on a trip.”

  “I love dogs. If I had my choice, Morty, our labradoodle, would have a brother or a sister. And Jana has a poodle. His name is Gus.”

  “I remember.” He leans forward. “I saw him by the soccer fields last week, when you were running away from me.”

  I can feel my face flush.

  “Sorry about that. It had nothing to do with you. It was a thing between Jana and me.”

  He waves his hand in front of his face. “It’s all right. You don’t need to explain. I think I understand. Maybe it had something to do with the reason you also ran away from me at the mall?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” My cheeks grow warmer. But he’s smiling and I’m smiling, and the end of our partnership suddenly doesn’t feel like such an end.

  The rest of the week feels like one giant countdown to meet Jacob at the Friendly Bean.

  The paranoid part of me worries that somehow it’s not going to work out. Like his parents are suddenly going to make him transfer back to his private school. Or I’m going to get sick. Actually, that part isn’t totally crazy—on Wednesday, Fiona came down with a stomach virus and was out of school for two days, but not before she coughed her germs all over everyone, including me, during Social Studies.

  Then Friday afternoon is finally, finally, here!

  I park my bike on the rack outside of the Friendly Bean and slide my phone out of my pocket. Outside, the sky is milky white. I wanted it to be sunny and perfect for this day. I’m three minutes early. What should I do? Hang out here and wait until exactly five o’clock? Or should I walk in right now? A couple of moms with their strollers brush past me and go inside. The door clicks into place behind them.

  I take the plunge, open the door, and walk inside. Jacob is there already standing in the back of the line. He waggles his fingers at me. I waggle my fingers back.

  I go and stand in line with him. My fingers brush so close to his they practically touch.

  “So, what would you like?” he says.

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  Grinning, he shakes his head. “Not really. But I figured you’d want something to eat.”

  Before I can respond, he continues. “Like a pumpkin spice muffin!”

  “Exactly what I was going to say.”

  “I must be a mind reader, then. Because I have a feeling you’d also like a pumpkin spice frappé.”

  Some South American flute music wafts through the coffee shop. The happy lilt matches my mood. I spot Elvie working behind the counter.

  She smiles at me as she steams some milk.

  Jacob and I chat about how Halloween should be an official town holiday and nobody should have to go to school that day. Soon it’s our turn to order. Elvie nods and says hello, but doesn’t do or say anything embarrassing. Like, “Why didn’t you make your bed this morning?” or “You have something green stuck in your teeth.” Nothing to make me feel like a little kid.

  Jacob pays for me, which I totally don’t expect. I pull some bills out of my wallet to pay him back, but he shakes his head. “Get it next time. This is on me.”

  Next time? I like the sound of that. My eyes graze the menu. “My sister gave us the muffin and brownie for half off, which is the employee discount.”

  “That’s awesome,” Jacob says, grinning.

  “It’s good to know people in high places.” I poke his side with my elbow.

  “I’ll have to tell my brother to start working at Ben & Jerry’s, then,” he says. We find a small round table in the front of the store. I’m about to sit down when Jacob steps behind me.

  “This might be on me”—he points at my cup of pumpkin spice—“but this is on you!” Then Jacob stuffs a bunch of ice cubes down the back of my shirt!

  “Ahh!” I yelp, and wiggle and hop around until the cubes plink down onto the floor. I crouch to pick them up.

  “Don’t worry, it’s just a couple of pieces,” Jacob says.

  “Oh, I’m not worrying!” I grab the ice cubes and lob them back at him.

  He dodges, and the ice cubes land on the chair beside him. “Goalie training.” Then his grin grows bigger. “Sorry, but I just had to do that. Stuff the ice down the back of your shirt, that is.” He sits down.

  “Thanks a lot,” I say, but I’m not upset at all.

  I sit across from him. We both study our drinks.

  “It’s nice here,” he says.

  “Yeah. It really is.” I glance up and smile.

  He reaches across the table and takes my hand.

  We’re actually holding hands. We’re actually holding hands!

  His skin is warm. “I also had to do that,” he says.

  Our eyes meet, and I
notice for the first time that his reddish-brown hair is the exact color of pumpkin spice.

  Yeah, pumpkin spice really is my favorite. And that’s no secret.

  Don’t miss any Swirl novels! Read on for a sneak peek at Peppermint Cocoa Crushes by Laney Nielson:

  By the time the van from the food pantry pulled into the loading dock, all the boxes were packed.

  “I’ve got to go,” Mira said. “My cousins are coming.”

  “Me too.” Anna looked down at her phone. “My dad wants me to clean my room before my grandmother arrives. Wish me luck. I haven’t cleaned it since her last visit.”

  “Wasn’t that like six months ago?” I asked.

  Anna nodded. “It’s not pretty. And I’m not proud of it.”

  “Good luck.” I gave them hugs, or our squad’s version of a hug—a slight lean-in plus half-hug. “Thanks for helping.”

  “Any time, Madame President,” Mira said.

  “Ha, ha.” I handed Anna her mitten that had fallen on the ground. “Don’t forget we’re doing the mitten and hat drive next month.”

  “Got it.” Mira wrapped her scarf around her neck.

  Once the last box was loaded and the van pulled away, Kevin said, “You still want to do the Holidaze Spectacular routine together, right?”

  “Yes,” I said immediately. “Of course.” Karly, Kevin and I had made the decision months earlier. Whether we won or lost, we wanted to rise or fall together. “Why?” I asked, suddenly uncertain. “Don’t you?”

  “I do!” He put up his hands as if I was accusing him of something. “It’s just now that the Summer Academy director will be the judge, the stakes are a lot higher … I wanted to make sure we’re all in.” He turned toward Karly. “You in?”

  “I’m in,” she said.

  “It’s hard enough competing against Mira and Anna,” I said as I pulled the elastic band out of my hair. “There’s no way I’m competing against you two. You’re my best friends.” I shook my hair. “Anyway, if we win, all three of us get to go.” Ever since Karly and Kevin and I started dancing together at JayJay’s Studio back in fifth grade, we dreamed about dancing together at the Holidaze Spectacular and about going to the Summer Academy and then eventually all three of us going to the High School for Performing Arts. “We can do this.”

  “Definitely.” Kevin looked down at his phone. “It’s Mom,” he said to Karly. “They’re out front. The car’s packed.”

  “Can I come?” I was joking. Sort of. But the truth was, hanging out with the Hall family at their grandparents’ house sounded awesome, especially compared to the long, b-o-r-i-n-g weekend ahead of me. With my sister Claire in college in California, Thanksgiving was just going to be Mom and me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like doing stuff with Mom—I did. But she wasn’t going to be doing anything other than her schoolwork. She’d already warned me about how much she had. And the apartment still didn’t really feel like home. And it was the first year I wasn’t going to see Dad for Thanksgiving. And …

  “It won’t be so bad, Sash.” Karly gave me a hug, a real one. “Just think—you can binge Netflix, no interruptions. And you can work on ideas for our routine. We’re still good with our music choice, right?”

  “Definitely,” Kevin and I said at the exact same time.

  “Listen to that: You’re becoming one of us!” Karly said, and the three of us laughed.

  After they left, I headed down the hallway toward the main office to tell Mr. Thomas we were finished, but when I passed the auditorium stage door, I stopped. “Detour,” I said aloud as I backed up.

  There was no way I was passing up an empty stage.

  The auditorium was dark and the air felt cold, as if the heat had been turned off hours earlier. I flipped on the lights. Ta-da! There it was, waiting for me.

  I stood center stage, facing the rows of empty seats. I took off my coat, pulled out my phone and earbuds, and scrolled through my music until I found the song I wanted.

  As the music flowed into my ears, my arms and feet rose up. When I lowered them, I turned my head stage right and danced—turning, bending, leaping. My body translated the music and lyrics into movement without me even having to think about it.

  I loved to dance. Ballet. Modern. Jazz. But when I danced lyrical, I felt the most free, and the most me. In lyrical, I fused together everything I’d learned in every dance class and I made it new. Made it my own.

  When the song ended, I pulled out my earbuds and sat down on the stage, breathing deeply. In thirty days, I thought, I will be here. Right here. With Kevin and Karly. And a packed audience. The lights will shine on us. The music will blast through the speakers. We will perform. And somewhere out there the director of the Summer Academy will be sitting, ready to judge, ready to decide who will be given a scholarship.

  When I stood up, I felt dizzy, like I’d done a turn without picking a focal point. But I knew it wasn’t from dancing—it was excitement. The Holidaze Spectacular would be the start of my dreams coming true.

  But first I needed to survive Thanksgiving.

  Swirl books are the perfect flavor: A sweet blend of friends, crushes, and fun. Curl up and take a sip!

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  New York

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Hillary Homzie is the author of the tween novels Queen of Likes, The Hot List, and Things Are Gonna Get Ugly, as well as the comedic chapter book series Alien Clones From Outer Space. During the summers, Hillary teaches in the graduate program in children’s writing at Hollins University. A former sketch comedy performer in New York City, Hillary currently lives with her family in Northern California.