He's got a thing for Holly, Mads thought. It was so obvious.
Hmm… Maybe it was Mads’ turn to play matchmaker for a change. Holly was all twisted up over Rob. But Stephen was a great guy, too. Totally different from Rob, but a fine specimen in his own way. If she could get Holly to forget about Rob and see Stephen the way Mads saw him, she might feel better. And from the way he was drooling over Holly's picture, Mads guessed Stephen would be over the moon.
16
Showdown at the Swim Center
To: hollygolitely
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: You're a tough cookie who doesn't crumble easily. This time, though, I don't like your chances.
Why so glum, my bodacious chum?” Sebastiano asked Holly when she bumped into him at her locker that afternoon. She'd been on a rampage all day, snarling and biting people's heads off if they so much as looked at her wrong. Even Lina and Mads were a little afraid of her. Holly appreciated that Sebastiano saw through her rage to the sadness below.
“You must have seen them around,” Holly said. “I can't seem to get away from them.”
“You mean Rob and that girl who clings to him like lint on cashmere?” Sebastiano said. “Come on, Holly. You can take her. She's no threat to the Great Boobmeister.”
“Oh yeah? Then why is Rob with her and not me?” Holly said. “All I did was tell him we shouldn't date anymore and I wanted to see other people.”
Sebastiano patted her shoulder. “There, there. I know it's not fair. But what are you standing here talking to me for? What you need is an all-out assault on the enemy. Don't hint or be subtle. Don't pussyfoot around. Just go right up to him and tell him you want him back. It hasn't been that long—he can't be too attached to the little leech yet. See what happens.”
It was blunt, it was simple, it was obvious. It might work. “All right, Sebastiano,” she said. “I'll try it this afternoon.”
“That's my girl. Who knows, by tonight he could be snuggling up with you again, getting on your nerves and driving you crazy just like the old days.” He closed his locker and zipped up his sleek gray sweater.
“Where are you off to?” Holly asked.
“My little sister's ballet recital. No one can accuse me of not supporting the arts. Good luck!”
“Thanks.” Holly went to the library to do some homework and wait out Rob's swim practice. Just before five she left for the Swim Center and staked out the door to the boys’ locker room. A few minutes later Rob came out, freshly showered, his messy, wet hair more teddy-bearish than ever.
“Hey.” He looked startled to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“Rob, can I talk to you for a minute?” Holly asked.
Rob glanced around. Holly wondered if Christie was supposed to meet him. “Uh, sure.”
She led him outside and they settled against a wall near the Swim Center entrance. She took a deep breath. Her instinct was to try to finesse this somehow, but she'd decided to take Sebastiano's advice and just go for it.
“Rob, I was wrong,” she said. “Breaking up with you was stupid. A stupid mistake. I must have been in a bad mood that day or something.”
“Bad mood, huh? Guess that happens,” Rob said.
“I know it's no excuse,” Holly said. “Listen, Rob, please. I'd like another chance. A chance to make it up to you and to be together again.”
She waited, watching his face carefully for signs of his feelings. It was a mobile face and usually very expressive and easy to read. But that afternoon he kept it stuck in neutral.
“What do you say?” she prompted after he hadn't answered her.
He looked her in the eye now. Ah, good sign. He still liked her, she could see it. And when she looked into his eyes she felt more than ever what a good person he was, how warm and sweet and thoughtful, how perfect for her.
Then he looked down. “No,” he said.
No? Did he just say no?
“What do you mean, no?” Holly said. How could he just stand there and say no to her?
“I mean, no, I don't want to get back together with you. I'm sorry.”
“But why? We were so good together! You have to admit that.”
“I know. But you're not the only one who had things to complain about, you know. I thought you were too critical and too picky. Why did you always have to make such a big deal about little things like what t-shirt I was wearing? All I did was try to be nice to you, and even that bugged you! You dumped me, Holly. And why? For the stupidest reasons I ever heard. If you can break up with me that easily, over such petty things, then I don't want to be with you. So I'm sorry, Holly, but the answer is no. I don't want you back. See you.”
He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and walked away. Holly stared after him, speechless. In all the time she'd known him, which, she had to admit, wasn't all that long, he'd never spoken to her so firmly. Where did it come from?
Reality began to sink in. Holly was devastated. She dropped her head into her hands. She couldn't believe it. He didn't want her back! He just came right out and said so!
Rob was finally standing up for himself. What took him so long?
Thanks a lot, Sebastiano, Holly thought. Now I feel worse than ever. Was there really no hope, no way to get him back?
Holly couldn't accept it. I don't give up so easily, Holly said to herself. Christie Hubbard better look out. I'm going to get Rob back if it kills me. Or her. But more likely me.
17
At Home with Ramona
To: linaonme
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: You will experience discomfort today—I mean more than usual.
Anyone sitting here?” Ramona asked.
Lina shook her head. “Sit down.
Mads was busy in the art room every afternoon and Holly had gone to the pool to confront Rob, so Lina, not in the mood to go home yet, had ridden her bike to Vineland by herself. It was not like her to do that. But neither was sneaking into the city alone for a date. Maybe it was time to try new things, be a little bold, come out of her shell.
But when she got to the café, no one she knew was there. She ordered coffee and sat at a table alone, staring out the big picture window at the valley. She was happy to be interrupted by Ramona. Not exactly what you'd call a friendly face, but a familiar one at least.
“You must be in a good mood today,” Lina said, noting that Ramona had drawn a tiny pink flower in the middle of her forehead where her third eye should be. Normally she might have sported a few drops of fake blood, or perhaps a tiny skull and crossbones.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Ramona said. “Dan has to stay late tomorrow to help us lay out the next issue of Inchworm. So I thought I'd make brownies for everyone tonight. You know, to make layout more fun. I was going to write ‘Thanks Dan’ in walnuts on the top.”
“Dan's allergic to walnuts.” Oops. Lina clapped her mouth shut. She shouldn't have said that. It just slipped out.
“What? How do you know that?” Ramona turned her intense black eyes on Lina and gave her the stare. The stare used to scare Lina, but not anymore. Well, maybe a little.
Lina shrugged and tried to act casual. “I think he said something about it in class once.”
“No, he didn't,” Ramona said. “I write down every word that man says in class, and he never once said he was allergic to walnuts. Unless I was out sick that day. In which case Chandra or Siobhan would have filled me in immediately. You know I live for every scrap of personal detail I can get about Dan.”
Yes, Lina knew. She tried to steady herself under the force field of the stare. She felt herself starting to shake.
“I would like an answer to my question, Ozu,” Ramona said. “How do you know that Dan is allergic to walnuts if he never said it in class?”
“He must have mentioned it some other time, then,” Lina said. “Maybe he wrote it on one of my papers. How am I supposed to remember
a little thing like that?” She tried to laugh it off, as if it were the silliest thing in the world. But Ramona didn't fall for it.
“You know as well as I do that when it comes to Dan trivia your mind is like a steel trap,” Ramona said. “Inside your brain are files documenting every significant fact about Dan, where it came from and when you learned it. You're hiding something from me and I want to know what it is NOW.”
Lina was pressed against the back of her chair as Ramona leaned forward, her eyes burrowing into Lina's as if she could dig out the truth that way.
“Tell me, Lina. What's going on? It's something big, isn't it? You wouldn't be so reluctant to share if it wasn't something HUGE.”
Lina realized she hadn't breathed in several minutes. She would never, ever, ever tell Ramona, or anyone, about her plan to meet Dan. But to protect that secret, she was going to have to throw Ramona a bone. And the bone itself was so big and juicy that Lina knew it would satisfy her.
“All right,” Lina said. “I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone else. Not even the Cult. Do you swear?”
“I swear.” Ramona spit in her palm, rubbed her index finger in the saliva, and offered it to Lina. “Do you want to do a spit-swapping ceremony? Spit on your finger and rub it on mine.”
“That won't be necessary.” Lina curled her fingers into her palms just to be safe. “Now promise.”
“I promise. Now what is it? It's really good, isn't it. I can tell.”
“I think you'll find it interesting. A few weeks ago I was browsing through a Web site that had personal ads on it—”
“Oh my god!” Ramona clapped her hand against her mouth in anticipation.
“—And I found an ad from Dan.”
“NO!” Ramona practically screamed. Two women sitting near the fireplace turned their heads.
“Yes. Ramona, it was so amazing. It tells all kinds of stuff about him that you'd never know otherwise And when you read it, it makes you like him even more.” It was kind of a relief to share this with someone who really got it, finally. Holly and Mads thought it was funny, but Ramona knew it was earth-shattering.
“I'm going to die! I'm going to keel over and croak right here on the floor!”
Lina took a moment to let this sink in. She understood. It was big.
“Can I see it?” Ramona asked. “What site is it on?”
Lina hesitated. If Ramona saw the ad she could answer it, too. And that could ruin everything.
“I might show it to you,” Lina said. “But first I have to explain something.”
“Oh my god. You wrote to him! Didn't you! You did! You fiend!”
“I wrote to him under another name. I pretended to be a grad student his age, so he wouldn't freak.”
“Obviously, because if he knew it was you he'd head for the hills,” Ramona said. “So?”
“He wrote back. And we've been writing each other every day since then.”
Ramona's face was frozen in a stalled scream. Lina almost wanted to laugh. She had never made such a big impression on another person before.
Finally Ramona pressed her hands on the table and bowed her head three times. “Lina Ozu, you are a goddess. I'm not worthy. I knew you had it in you! Way to plot and scheme!”
“Thanks,” Lina said.
“You are my superior in every way,” Ramona said. “I can't believe what you've accomplished in such a short time. I'm—I'm flabbergasted. And to look at you—no one would ever guess. I mean, you look so sweet and straight, but you're as devious as the worst of us, aren't you?”
“Well, wait a minute—”
Ramona held up her hand. “No need for modesty. You're with a peer. Listen, you have to come home with me. I want to see that ad. I promise I won't do anything to ruin it for you—I'm way too impressed. But I want to know everything that has happened. And I think it's time you finally sucked it up and came to the museum.”
Lina swallowed. She'd been avoiding the Museum of Dan ever since she first heard about it.
“We're going to print out that ad and put it on the altar,” Ramona said. “Just you and me. We'll do a sacred love ceremony. And you can stay for dinner if you want. What do you say?”
Lina thought about her upcoming date with Dan. She could use all the help she could get—even supernatural help was better than nothing. And she couldn't put Ramona off forever. Someday she would have to see the museum, queasy as the idea made her feel.
“Please, Lina?” Ramona begged. Lina was knocked off-guard by that—it was not like Ramona to beg. “Please.”
“All right,” Lina said. “I'll come. Just let me call my mother.”
“Hi, Dad,” Ramona said to a short, squat man cooking soup in the kitchen. “This is Lina.”
The man turned away from the stove and bowed slightly to Lina. He had a round, genial, bald head punctuated by a black mustache. “Hello, Lina. Staying for dinner?”
“Yes, she is,” Ramona said. She grabbed Lina by the wrist and led her toward the stairs.
“Hope you like bat wing soup!” Mr. Fernandez called after them.
Lina shot Ramona a look. “Is he kidding?”
“Yes, of course he's kidding,” Ramona said. “What did you think, we're really witches or something?”
Well, why not? Lina thought. With the way Ramona dressed and behaved, her preoccupation with the occult and a dad who looked like the father on the Addams Family, it wasn't much of a stretch.
“Where's your mother?” Lina asked.
“Still at work, I guess,” Ramona said. “She sells real estate. A lot of people like to look at houses after work.”
So Ramona's mother was a real estate agent. That burst the gothic image a little bit. Unless her specialty was haunted houses.
“Here it is,” Ramona said. Her room was in the attic. She pushed open the door, which had been painted dark red.
It would have been a sweet attic room in a Victorian house, with eaves and a dormer window, except for the black fishnet curtains, the black walls with glow-in-the-dark occult symbols painted on them, and the giant Deathzilla poster on the closet door. Deathzilla was Ramona's favorite heavy-metal band. Their symbol was a giant fire-breathing metal robot-dinosaur.
There were candles, vases of dried flowers, bowls of mysterious objects scattered here and there, books and boots and scarves on the floor, and an antique vanity cluttered with jewelry and makeup. On the bed, though, strangely, was a pretty pink ruffled cover with nothing Goth about it at all.
Ramona had set up the museum in a corner. A giant pentagram had been drawn in the floor in chalk. Inside it were four big cushions, one for each cult member to sit on, all facing an old oriental screen that had been turned into a shrine. A few pictures of Dan clipped from the Seer were tacked to the screen, as well as favorite Dan-graded papers. The memorabilia—the cups, the pizza crust, a baggy with stray hairs, a piece of chalk, a chewed pencil—were arranged on a small table in front of it, with a candle and a vase of flowers. It was very modest and kind of touching in a way. The creepy thing was that if you didn't know what this was supposed to be, you'd think Dan was dead.
“This is where the magic happens,” Ramona said. “Literally.”
“Well, not literally,” Lina said. “I mean, real magic doesn't happen here, right?”
“Who says?” Ramona looked defensive.
Lina let it drop. Ramona turned on her computer. “I can't wait to see this ad,” she said. Lina logged on to The List and found Dan's ad. He hadn't changed it since Lina started writing to him. Ramona drank it in.
“Beauregard,” she said. “I wouldn't have picked that name for him. It's so Gone with the Wind.”
“I think it's kind of courtly and old-fashioned,” Lina said.
“I'd call him ‘Vladimir,’” Ramona said.
“He's so not a Vladimir.”
Ramona bowed deeply. “You'd know better than I would, my Queen.”
“Stop bowing at me,” Lina snapped. “It makes me nerv
ous.”
Ramona bowed again. “Whatever you say, oh She-Poobah of the Cult.”
“Quit it!” Why did Ramona have to do things like that? Just when Lina felt ready to relax around her, Ramona did little things that annoyed and alienated her. It was as if she felt compelled not to be too likable.
Ramona printed out the ad. “This will become the focus of the shrine. It's the best piece of memorabilia we've got. The Cult is forever in your debt.”
“Ugh. Please.”
“Ramona!” A woman's voice called from downstairs. “Dinner in half an hour!”
“Okay!” Ramona called back. “Mom's home. Come on, lets do the ceremony.” She picked up a pack of matches, more candles, and some incense. “Grab that cloak, would you?” She indicated a satiny green hooded cape draped over a chair.
Lina picked it up. “Why green?”
“It's all I had. Leftover from Dad's Jolly Green Giant costume a few Halloweens ago.”
Ramona lit the candle and set things up. “You sit on that blue cushion and watch,” Ramona said.
Lina sat down. Ramona pinned the printout of Dan's ad to the center of the altar. She knelt on a cushion and bowed before it.
“Daniel Shulman, Daniel Shulman, Daniel Shulman,” Ramona chanted. “Namluhs Leinad, Namluhs Leinad, Namluhs Leinad. We call to you from another world, a world without school, where divisions melt away.”
Oh, I can't take this, Lina thought. She gripped her cushion to keep herself from running away.
Ramona lit a stick of incense and sprayed herself with some kind of musky cologne. She got to her feet and twirled around three times.
“Let us meet in that better world, free of illusion, more real than this one,” Ramona said. She bowed to the stack of used coffee cups. “We bow to that which your lips have touched.”
Oh, god, get me out of here, Lina thought.
Ramona bowed to the papers and pencil. “We bow to that which your hands have touched.” She bowed to what was left of the pizza crust, now little more than a pile of crumbs. “We bow to that which your teeth have touched.…”
Lina cringed. But Ramona was so sincere about this. So heartfelt. What made her go through these rituals every week—or was it every day? Did she really think this was going to work?
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