Gilbert and Louis Rule the Universe: First Impressions

by Rebecca Heller

  I think I might try again for the cashmere sweater. “Dad, I have this dance coming up on Friday and there’s this sweater I am just dying to get for it.”

  “Oh yeah,” he says, “how much is it?”

  This was the question I am dreading he will ask. “I think it’s around $300, but it’s really cute.”

  “Are you kidding? You know we can’t afford something like that. I am sure you have plenty of nice clothes to wear that are already in your closet.”

  Shoot, that is exactly what I expected him to say. Ever since my parents got divorced three years ago everything is out of our price range—something about

  alimony and two households. My parents are always telling me “the divorce doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Yeah? Well, tell that to my distinctly lacking wardrobe.

  “So, do you have a date?” my dad asks.

  “It’s not that kind of dance, Dad.” This is the kind where you go with your friends, judge other girls on their outfits, and pray that you are picked for the last slow dance by the boy you are crushing on.

  “Will there be any cute guys there?” he asks. I hate talking to my dad about boys. Ew.

  “Dad, there are, like, no cute guys in our school. I’ve told you that before.”

  “Good,” my dad says as he flags down the waiter for more breadsticks.

  Chapter 3

  Friday, November 6

  Today’s horoscope: Take the time to get to know someone new.

  We finally made it through the week, and it is the night of the middle school dance. I have been getting ready for the past two hours, have perfected my hair, touched up my lip gloss, and still have about fifteen minutes before Gilbert is supposed to come over. Annoyingly, I always budget too much time for everything so I have to sit there and watch 60 Minutes with my mom until the doorbell rings. I run to the door. Gilbert looks at me and her mouth falls open.

  “I thought you were going to wear your yellow sweater,” she says.

  I did have on the jeans I told her about but decided the layered tanks were too cute to pass up. So from the waist up Gilbert and I look like twins, except that Gilbert is about a foot taller than me and brunette. I’m a natural blonde. No really, I am.

  “Yeah, I changed my mind.”

  “Are you two girls ready?” My mom shouts from the kitchen.

  “Yes!” we yell back. Gilbert takes one last look at me and shrugs. She grabs my hand. “Your hair looks really cute,” she says. I know it did. I spent an hour getting my bangs exactly how I wanted them.

  * * *

  We enter the gymnasium after the dance has already begun. A balloon arch hangs over the entrance with a sign that says Moonlight Serenade. On one wall the art department painted a large mural of skyscrapers set against the night’s sky, but I don’t think cheap streamers and a disco ball fool anyone into thinking this place is anything more than the school gym. There is a DJ spinning in the corner. We both give him a nod and throw him the peace sign (we had seen on MTV that you have to acknowledge the DJ whenever you go into a club) and head over to our friends.

  Maddy is there looking super cute in jeans and a tube top, Riley is wearing this awesome sheer top and tank that I think I saw at Target, and poor Rowan, who transferred to our school from New Zealand, is wearing a prom dress with poufy sleeves and is a color that can best be compared to an eggplant. Nobody told her that this wasn’t that kind of dance. I like Rowan, even if she is like totally foreign, and I want to make her feel better.

  “Rowan, that is such a cute dress.” It was terrible, even if she wore it to prom, but you know.

  “Thanks, I, um, thought, well…”

  “No, totally cute,” Gilbert agrees. “You look better than anyone here.” The girls all look at Gilbert's and my matching tops. They think better than to say anything.

  Gilbert and I are like totally BFF but this is the rest of our posse. Maddy is even shorter than me with brown hair and freckles—totally cute, super smart, and an artistic genius. She’s the girl you want to decorate your binder; you know what I mean? Maddy lives in Upper Piermont in a really nice house. She has brothers and sisters but they are away at college so she is practically an only child like me. I go over there all the time because they have this rad TV set up with a huge flat screen, enormous speakers, and a super comfy couch so it is like being at the movies. You would think her family is totally rich because of where they live and the TV and all, but they bought the house, like, a million years ago, and I guess sending two kids to college costs a lot of money so Maddy doesn’t get it any easier than any of us when it comes to an allowance or anything.

  Riley comes from a big family—I think they are Catholic or Mormon or something, and always has family obligations, so the fact that she is at the dance is kind of a miracle. She has four brothers and sisters and they are all pretty close in age. She has one brother a year older (not cute, in case you were wondering) and a little sister who is still in elementary school. Her other brother and sister are in high school. They are pretty cool but usually ignore us or roll their eyes at us whenever we are over there. We are always hanging out at her house on the weekends if she isn’t at church or a family reunion or something, because she has a huge trampoline. Riley has blue eyes and frizzy reddish-brownish hair that she is always trying to straighten. It will work for about an hour in the morning but by lunchtime it always goes back to its natural state. Tonight she has straightened it again but you can already see the ends curling.

  Rowan moved to Piermont in the sixth grade and we took her under our wing. Her dad is like an expert on global warming so they sent him from New Zealand, which has a lot of sheep, to our neck of the woods, which has a lot of people, cars, and pollution. Rowan is always making sure we recycle and don’t waste water. Because of her I make sure my mom keeps a separate bin for plastics and glass, but Rowan still hasn’t convinced me to take a shorter shower at 6:30 in the morning. How else am I going to wake up? Rowan has a funny accent, and clearly can’t dress, but we forgive her because she is super sweet.

  We hang by the wall and survey the room. The “Fabulous Five” are all in attendance: Chloe, Emma, Hannah, Sophie, and Olivia. They are a group of the prettiest, richest girls in school. They live and die by the fashion in Teen Vogue and at least once a month ostracize a member of their group for no particular reason. I guess you could say they are the most popular girls in school, but if starving yourself and wearing heels is what it takes to hang out with them, I am happy to remain second tier. Just last week one of them read that sugar was fattening so they cut fruit from their diet. In the cafeteria line I saw Sophie getting an extra scoop of mac and cheese instead of an apple. Geniuses. One of the girls, Hannah, is wearing some leggings with a mini-skirt and the cashmere sweater I wanted. What makes it even more annoying is that the sweater looks really cute on her.

  Further away, flailing around to the music with some of the debate nerds, is Melinda. She is wearing a t-shirt with a picture of a cat on it.

  I check out the male population. They are in groups around the sides of the room and sitting on the bleachers. None of the boys who are here are the least bit interesting. They are all either sticking their dirty hands into the chip bowls (note to self: don’t eat the chips), slurping down sodas, or pushing one another and placing each other in headlocks. So lame.

  Gilbert taps me on the shoulder and points to the gym door. It swings open like a slow-motion movie sequence. In saunter Jason and Dylan. Dylan is in our grade but Jason is in eighth. They are the kind of boys who are always in detention for some reason or another. You know, the kind of boys you want to hang out with. Behind them is another kid. This boy is blonde, and I don’t recognize him immediately. As I strain to catch a peek, this geeky kid, Jimmy, walks up right in front of me and asks me to dance. Jimmy is a total dork. He is in like all my classes and he is always bugging me to check answers on homework. I almost always ignore him. One, because usually I haven’t done the homework, or t
wo, if I have, I usually have the answer wrong and then Jimmy takes like a million hours trying to explain it to me.

  Right now he is totally blocking my view. “Not now,” I say a little too loud about dancing together and push him out of the way. I have to get a better look at the mystery boy.

  I grab Gilbert’s hand. My heart starts pounding and I feel my face go bright red.

  “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” I am totally freaking out.

  All the girls pounce on me as though I am having an

  epileptic seizure. I am fanning my face and totally spazzing.

  “That.

  Is.

  The.

  Hottie.”

  I say between puffs of breath.

  I think I might pass out. Rowan runs to get me a drink. Gilbert turns, looks and spots him.

  “Oh,” she says, “he is hot.”

  We need to do reconnaissance. We need a plan. We need… oh good, Rowan is back with a soda. I down it and send her for more. We all sit down on the bleachers. We need to find out who this boy is, pronto. Maddy is the ballsy one in our group so we sent her out to find information. She hangs out around the edges of the three boys. They have made their way inside and were talking with a boy in our class, Nick. Nick and The Hottie are giving each other the nod of introduction. Maddy sticks around until the boys walk away and then she pounces on Nick and drags him across the gym floor. We wait with bated breath. “Who is he?” I blurt out, totally uncool, as soon as he gets close enough to hear.

  “Who?” Nick isn’t the sharpest tool in the drawer.

  “That guy. The one Dylan and Jason just introduced you to.” I am exasperated.

  “Oh, he said his name was Ralph. Ha, ha. Funny name.”

  Gilbert and I looked at each other and our jaws drop.

  “That is a Ralph?” I say. “Well, I’ll be.”

  We run to the bathroom like a heard of wildebeests and jockey in the mirror for a spot. I replace my lip gloss and brush my hair. Whew, my bangs still look good. We walk back into the gym, totally nonchalant. Jason, Dylan and Ralph are standing on the far side leaning against the wall. What better way to get attention than to dance? So the group of us go out on the dance floor and shake what our mamas gave us. I keep glancing over. At one point, I catch Ralph looking over at us. We dance for the next hour, although I am sure not to show off so hard that I look like that sweaty kid, Maria, who acts like she actually is in gym class.

  Eventually, it is the last song. It is a slow song. We all walk over to the wall. Dylan breaks from the group of boys and walks over to us. We are totally silent in

  anticipation. What is he going to tell us? Is he going to give me a message from The Hottie? He walks right up to Gilbert.

  “Wanna dance?” he asks.

  Gilbert’s eyes shine a little and she looks suddenly bashful. Is there something going on here? But back to me. I breathe a sigh of disappointment and keep my eye on the other two boys hoping they will take a cue from Dylan, but Jason and Ralph stayed planted firmly against the wall. Everyone else is partnering up. Jimmy is back and asking me to dance again.

  “Rowen will dance with you.” I hand him off to a surprised Rowan. First of all, there is no way I am dancing with Jimmy, second of all, what if Jason or Ralph decide to choose partners? But they don’t. The slow song comes and goes, and they don’t do a thing.

  The lights come up and it is time to go. We are herded out the doors. I strategically place myself right behind the boys as we walk out. I push my way up so that I can hear what they were saying. Ralph leans over to Jason. “I thought you told me there were cute girls at this school.”

  “Dude, sorry, I thought there were,” is Jason’s reply. I feel like I have been punched in the gut. Is this guy kidding?

  I break away. “Can you believe what he just said?” I tell the girls what I overheard. Could this be true? Does he think we are all dogs? We all agree he must be totally stuck up and conceited. Gilbert asks quietly if I had heard anything Dylan said.

  “No, but that Ralph, what a jerk, right?”

  Chapter 4

  Saturday, November 7

  Today’s horoscope: Someone you might not suspect is taking notice.

  “I might like Dylan.” Gilbert confesses to me the next day.

  We are on our way to the jazz class we take every other Saturday at Grand School of Dance.

  I am only half paying attention to her, when I answer. “You should. You guys totally looked cute dancing together.” I am still thinking about what Ralph said to Jason.

  “Really?” Gilbert perks up.

  “Yeah, totally. What about that Ralph guy? What a jerk. And can we talk about his name? Hello, gross.” I can’t stop thinking about it. Somehow it felt like instead of dissing all the girls in the school he was just dissing me. I mean, he was my mystery guy. Oh, right, I haven’t told you about the first time that I saw him.

  Last spring, before school let out, I was sitting at our dining room table working on my homework. Well really, I was staring out the window watching the clouds, when I see this guy walk by. He had on a tight white t-shirt, jeans, flip-flops, and a Bermuda fishing cap. I know, the hat would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on him it looked amazing. I barely got a good look at his face, but from what I could tell, he was beautiful. I didn’t know who he was, where he was coming from, or where he was going. I even tried to make a sketch of him that night just so I could keep an image in my head. I know, I’m so lame, but my art skills did not do him any justice so I threw it away. Then, about a month ago, when I was driving with my mom I saw him again. My heart fluttered in my chest as we passed. We came at him from behind so I still didn’t get a good look even though I had craned my head around in a totally obvious attempt to catch a peek. But now after the dance, even though he didn’t know I had been crushing on him, I am devastated. No, it is more than that, I am pissed.

  “Yeah, totally a jerk,” Gilbert agrees.

  Gilbert and I arrive at dance class. We had been taking class here since the third grade and had finally made our way into Level Three. Well actually, they just keep promoting you as you get older. Level Threes get to put on performances for family and friends. The next level is more competitive. Level Four is when you go on tour and perform on stage for schools and old folks’ homes and places like that. I can’t wait to be a Level Four.

  When we get into class we take off our shorts and shirts that we’re wearing over our tights and leotards. Other girls from school are there, too. Fab Fivers Chloe and Hannah also take the dance class. Chloe always stands front and center, right behind the teacher. I always stand in the front row but all the way over to the side. Gilbert and Hannah stand in the back because they are so tall. We get to our places as the teacher breezes in. “Alright, ladies, we have a lot to get to today.” She claps as she begins the warm up. Gilbert floats around jazz class that day. The teacher even comments that she is dancing beautifully. I, on the other hand, am like a rock. I can barely get my feet off the ground during the jetes.

  * * *

  We walk back to my house after class. We are deep in conversation about the qualities of a good cell phone when we see Jason, Dylan, and Ralph out in front of the Baileys' old residence. We slow our pace. My heart starts pounding in my chest. I can tell from the flush on Gilbert’s cheeks that she feels the same way. The boys catch sight of us. We move towards them, although I don’t remember how. I don’t know why my stomach is turning somersaults like I had just downed a cup of whole milk. I mean, I hate the guy.

  “Hey,” Jason says. Jason is tall and has brown hair with blond tips, cute but not crushable. We love that even though he is older he is always cool to us.

  “Hey,” we answer in unison.

  “This is Ralph.” Jason introduces us. “Ralph, this is Leah and Alex.”

  “What’s up?” he says without smiling.

  “Not much,” I answer. Gilbert and Dylan quietly say hi to one another. They loo
k awkward.

  “What are you guys up to?” I ask.

  Jason answers, “We are just checking out Ralph’s new place.”

  “Do you like it?” I ask Ralph. “I used to hang out with the kid who lived here.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool, I guess. My room’s okay.”

  “Which one is it? The one in the back with the big window?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s pretty good. But I won’t be here long. I go back to boarding school on Monday.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “Havenhurst.”

  “Isn’t that for bad kids?” As soon as I say it, I realized the mistake I made. I didn't mean to offend they guy, but I had heard about the brother of a girl in my class who got sent there after being expelled from Piermont High because he placed a firecracker in a school trash can. I knew it was a place for what our principal would call “troubled youth.” All the boys look at me.

  “I guess so,” Ralph cracks a smile.

  “We saw you at the dance the other night,” Gilbert tries to save me.

  “Yeah, it was pretty lame,” Ralph snorts.

  See, I knew this guy was a jerk.

  “Yeah, totally lame.” Gilbert and I pretend to agree with him even though it had been the most important social event all year.

  “How do you guys know each other?” I ask the guys.

  “Ralph and I went to camp together when we were kids.” Jason says.

  “So are you in eighth grade?” I ask Ralph.

  “Yeah, aren’t you guys?”

  “No we are in seventh.” Gilbert says and we both blush.

  “Oh.” Ralph says in kinda a snotty way. I am slightly mortified and whenever I get nervous I just keep talking, so I ask, “Where did you live before?”