Peppermint Cocoa Crushes

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Peppermint Cocoa Crushes Page 4

by Laney Nielson


  “Cool,” I said, but the word sounded flat.

  “Girls?” Ms. Stone approached us. “Is everything okay?” She was giving us her “why aren’t you working” look.

  “Yes, Ms. Stone,” Mira said. Karly and I nodded.

  Okay? I didn’t feel okay. I was seriously worried. How was Karly going to prepare for the Quiz Bowl tournament and practice for our Holidaze Spectacular routine? I hated that Karly’s good news felt like bad news for me.

  “Where’s Karly?” Ms. Kumar asked me. I looked over at the doorway, hoping she was there, but she wasn’t.

  “I don’t know.”

  “She’s at Quiz Bowl,” Kevin said. “Lunchtime practices all this week. And next.”

  “You’ll fill her in?” Ms. Kumar sat on the edge of her desk.

  “Yup.” Kevin took a bite from his sandwich. Next to him, I unwrapped mine. Karly had Quiz Bowl every day at lunch! Seriously? Well, at least it wouldn’t interfere with our evening practices.

  “Let’s get started.” Ms. Kumar set a water bottle down next to her. “We have a lot of ground to cover today, but first I want to say how happy I am that each one of you is here, willing to share your talent with our community. The Holidaze Spectacular is a big event and you all are going to make it a success.”

  I looked around Ms. Kumar’s classroom. There were about thirty of us, all seventh and eighth graders. Most of the kids I knew, or I had seen them perform in school musicals or at recitals. And I’d watched some of the eighth graders in last year’s show.

  Behind Ms. Kumar on the board was a list of the acts. There were fifteen in all, and at least five of them were in it to win. Of those, I thought our biggest competition was an eighth-grade improv group that came in second last year, and Ryan, an eighth grader who called himself an illusionist. Not a magician—an illusionist. I’d seen him perform last year and, well, he was pretty amazing.

  “I want you all to see each other as a team, not as competition.” Ms. Kumar took a sip of her water. “I know some of you would like to win the Summer Academy scholarship.”

  Yes! I looked over at Kevin. He leaned back in his chair and drummed on his chest.

  “And that would certainly be a great opportunity, but it is not the main reason we are here. The Holidaze Spectacular is an important fund-raiser for our community. Every year the performers—that’s you all—select a community organization or local cause to donate the proceeds from the ticket sales. Does anyone have any ideas?”

  “Ms. Kumar?” My hand shot up. “I have an idea.”

  “Yes, Sasha?”

  Then I told the group about the meals program at the Senior Center and how important it was and how it was about to be cut. As I spoke, my voice grew louder and louder. And my face heated up, not because I was embarrassed, but because I cared about Miss Melinda and Big T and everyone else at the Senior Center who counted on the meals.

  “This sounds like a very worthy cause. And urgent.” Ms. Kumar nodded at me. “Does anyone else have a cause they’d like to support?” No one spoke up, so she continued, “Let’s see a show of hands if you want to support the meals program.”

  Almost everyone in the room raised their hands.

  “Excellent. Well, then, that’s decided.”

  Yes! Not only did I have a chance to win the scholarship, I had a chance to save the meals program. I was going to do everything I could to make this year’s show the most successful one ever!

  I leaned forward to focus on what Ms. Kumar was saying.

  “A lot goes on behind the scenes and leading up to the show. We’re going to need volunteers to organize the publicity, decorations, backstage crew, and refreshments for the reception.” Ms. Kumar looked around the room. “Who would like to volunteer to spearhead the publicity? You’ll be in charge of designing and distributing the flyers, posting on social media, and other announcements.”

  “I can do that,” I said.

  “Great.” Ms. Kumar wrote my name down on a pad of paper. “Thank you.”

  “Sash,” Kevin whispered. “You sure you have time? It sounds like a lot of work.”

  I flicked my wrist. “It’ll be easy.”

  Just then Pete Sugarman ran into the classroom. “Sorry,” he mumbled; his eyes dropped down to his sneakered feet.

  “Welcome, Peter,” Ms. Kumar said. “Take a seat.”

  I smiled at him as he made his way to an empty seat in the back row.

  “How about decorations?” Ms. Kumar asked. “We’re keeping the stage-set simple, but we need decorations for the auditorium. Who would like to organize that?” I looked around the room. Pete opened his brown paper bag. Anna popped a chip in her mouth. No one said anything.

  I raised my hand.

  “Anyone besides Sasha?” Ms. Kumar scanned the room.

  Ryan, who was sitting directly behind me, raised his hand.

  “Thank you.” She wrote his name on her notepad.

  “I’ll help too,” Kevin said.

  “Great.” Then she called out the names of the kids who were there but who were not performing in the show. Pete was among them. “You all will be the backstage crew. We need you to help manage the props and keep the show running smoothly.”

  I looked over at Pete. He nodded at Ms. Kumar.

  “Last but certainly not least. We need a volunteer to organize the refreshments. We will be selling these after the show as another way to raise funds for the meals—”

  “I’ll do it,” I called out.

  Kevin stared at me.

  I turned to face him. “What?” I mouthed, but he kept staring. Was he looking at me or past me? I turned around, but only Ryan was there. Kevin must’ve been staring at me. But why?

  “Thank you, Sasha, for your enthusiasm, but you already have a job.” Ms. Kumar stepped toward a group of students who were looking at the floor. “I know everyone is worried about practicing for their own act, but this event is about our community. We need everyone to help.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said. If I was in charge of the refreshments, I could make sure we had lots to sell and then we’d raise even more money.

  “Sasha, last year the refreshment committee baked over a hundred cupcakes. You can’t be the only one working on this.” Ms. Kumar scanned the group. A few hands shot up and she wrote down the names. “Thank you. Sasha, I’ll email you these names and then you can coordinate who makes what. How does that sound?”

  “Good.”

  As Ms. Kumar spoke, Kevin was still looking at me. It was then I thought of my list of clues.

  He stares at you. Check.

  “I suggest you start a group text so you can coordinate.” Ms. Kumar waved her phone in the air. “I know you all are going to make this a great show. Communication and collaboration will be important.”

  Kevin leaned over toward Ryan and they exchanged phone numbers. Other kids we’re doing the same, but for a few seconds I just sat there, feeling good, thinking about how we were going to save the meals program.

  Plus, I was doing well on the Kevin front.

  So far, Kevin had called me, tried to make me laugh, and stared at me—three out of the six clues. That meant there was a fifty-percent chance he liked me, but that also meant there was a fifty-percent chance—he didn’t.

  Fifty-fifty—I needed to do better than that.

  A lot better.

  Chapter Six

  GOOD IS NEVER GOOD ENOUGH

  After school, Karly waited for me while I talked to Mr. Thomas about the location for the mitten and hat drive tree. He suggested the library, but I wanted the front hall.

  “I think that’s why the food drive was so successful—because the collection boxes were in the front hall,” I explained. “People can’t forget about it when it’s the first thing they see every day.”

  Ms. Medley walked into the office then. “Sasha! Just the person I wanted to see. The food bank called earlier to thank us for all the donations. The director was very impressed with
you. He said it was the best student-led drive he’d ever seen.”

  I smiled, then turned toward Mr. Thomas, who sighed.

  “Fine,” he said. “The front hall it is.”

  “What’s that?” Ms. Medley asked.

  “We’re going to put the mitten and hat collection in the front hall,” I said.

  “Excellent,” Ms. Medley said. “Excellent.”

  “How’d it go?” Karly asked as I exited the office.

  “Good. Really good.” I looked down the hallway. “Where’s Kevin?” Usually the three of us walked to JayJay’s together.

  “He’s walking over with Ryan.”

  “Ryan?”

  “Yeah. He’s taking acro. He wants to learn some moves for his act.”

  “But he’s an illusionist.”

  “You’ve seen him perform. He incorporates all kinds of cool things.”

  “Great,” I said sarcastically. “He was really good before and now he’s going to be even better. How are we going to win?”

  “Sash, we’re good too.” Karly bumped my dance bag with hers. “And you’re really good. Don’t worry.”

  “Karly.” I stopped walking. “I am worried. How are we going to stick to our rehearsal schedule with all your Quiz Bowl practices?”

  “We’ll be fine. Do you honestly think we need to practice twenty hours a week?”

  “Okay, maybe my schedule was a little extreme, but no less than fifteen.”

  “Really Sasha?” Karly groaned.

  We sang and danced our way to JayJay’s, just like we always did. I no longer felt angry that she hadn’t told me about Quiz Bowl. And I wasn’t so worried. Fifteen hours a week should be enough.

  As we turned onto Main Street, I told Karly about the Holidaze Spectacular meeting and how we were donating the proceeds of the show to the Senior Center’s meals program.

  “That’s a great idea.” Karly did a pivot turn on the sidewalk. “You know, Sash. You’re really good at this stuff.”

  “What stuff?” We’d reached JayJay’s. In front of us was the floor to ceiling glass window of the studio where the acro class was held.

  Karly stopped walking. “Volunteering, organizing. You know, making the world a better place.”

  Laughing, I dipped into a deep curtsy. “Why thank you.” As I straightened, I spotted Kevin inside the studio. Through the glass, I watched as he did a front aerial.

  “Wow.” I stepped closer. “He’s amazing.”

  “Amazing?” Karly gave me a funny look.

  “Yeah.” Inside, Kevin’s face flushed red. His black hair spiked up (probably from sweat). “He’s cute, right?” Uh oh. The words came out before I could catch myself.

  “No.” Karly shook her head. “He’s not cute. He’s Kevin. And he’s being a total show-off.” Karly pointed at the glass. On the other side, Kevin and Ryan lunged into walking handstands. Side by side, they moved across the studio.

  “You’re right,” I said. “But he’s cute.” I pointed at Ryan.

  “Ryan?” Karly headed toward the entrance. “Sash, you’re losing it. I’ll tell you who’s cute … Ahmed.”

  I swallowed. “How’s that going?”

  “Not sure, but he told me I was really good at historical facts at practice today.”

  “He complimented you, that’s a good sign.”

  “You think?”

  “Def.” Now that I had my own crush (even if it was a total secret) I didn’t feel so bad about Karly liking Ahmed.

  Sitting on the bench inside JayJay’s, Karly and I pulled out our satin ballet shoes. She groaned as she pushed her foot into her pointe shoe and wound the ribbons around her ankles. “This is torture.”

  “Come on.” I bumped her arm with my arm as I tied my ribbons. “It’ll get better.”

  “I don’t know. I liked ballet better when we weren’t on pointe. Maybe I should quit.”

  “Quit pointe? But you worked so hard.”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking about dropping the class.”

  “What? You can’t quit!” Karly was a dancer. We were dancers. That’s what we did.

  “Girls, you’re late.” Ms. Jackson popped her head out of the studio and tapped a nonexistent watch on her wrist.

  Ballet class was an hour and fifteen minutes and Ms. Jackson worked us hard. Karly kept falling out of her pirouettes and I struggled to keep my arms in third position arabesque during my grand jeté.

  “Focus, girls.” Ms. Jackson said. “You’re both somewhere else today. Rule number two …”

  “Be present,” Karly and I finished her sentence for her. Rule number one was show up and, at least, we’d both done that.

  After dance class, Kevin, Karly, and I walked back to the Hall’s house. In their basement, we began choreographing the next section of our routine. At our first rehearsal, we’d decided to start the dance with our backs to the audience. Then we’d turn our heads to the left and then the right. The small movements fit well with the slower music. Then as the music built, our movements would grow bigger. Now we were debating when to turn toward the audience and where to place the knee drop Kevin wanted. Once on the floor, we tried a few moves. We’d done shoulder rolls in a routine at last year’s JayJay recital, so we decided to incorporate those. Then Karly and I watched as Kevin showed off a bunch of his acro tricks.

  “Enough.” Karly put her hands on her hips. “This isn’t the Kevin show. If you do all of that, Sasha and I are going to look like your backup dancers.”

  She was right. “How about you choose two tricks,” I said to Kevin.

  “Come on.” He swatted my arm. “How about three?”

  “Fine.”

  We ran through the opening from the top. When we finished, Kevin and Karly sat down. “It’s gonna be great,” Karly said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. We were off to a good start, but I was worried the dancing wasn’t going to be enough to win. “Do you think we should sing?”

  “What are you talking about?” Karly dropped her face into her hands. “We’ve just spent the last hour choreographing a dance.”

  “Yeah. One featuring my aerial,” Kevin said.

  “I mean, what if we could make it even more amazing?”

  “How?” Karly lifted her head but she sounded skeptical.

  “We could sing and dance.”

  “Seriously?” Kevin raised his eyebrow.

  “We all have good voices.” I turned toward Karly. “And you have an incredible voice, probably the best at school. Think how much more we’ll impress the judge if we dance and sing.” I wiggled my fingers. “This is for the Summer Academy, for the High School for Performing Arts. The expectations are going to be high. We need to—”

  “Fine,” Karly said. “We’ll give it a try.”

  “Is good ever good enough for you?” Kevin stuck his tongue out at me and rolled his eyes.

  We ran through the opening. But this time we turned the music low and sang.

  “Uh, cringe.” Karly turned off the music. “That was terrible.”

  The truth was, Karly sounded great. Kevin and me? Not so good. “We just need more practice. What do you think?” I asked as Karly and Kevin dropped to the ground, breathing hard. “Are you willing to do the work?”

  “Sure,” Kevin said.

  “Sash, sometimes I seriously wish you weren’t such an overachiever.” Karly wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “But admit it, you think it’s a better act, don’t you?”

  “It’s a lot harder.”

  “Dinner!” Mr. Hall called down to us.

  “But harder is better—more impressive,” I said.

  “We can do this.” Kevin bounded toward the stairs. “But right now, I need food.”

  “I should probably get going,” I said, but I didn’t want to. As I neared the top step, their dinner smelled good. Really good.

  “Sasha, your mom says you can stay.” Mrs. Hall smiled, putting her phone on the counter. “
It’s your favorite.”

  “Lasagna?”

  “Yup. And garlic bread.”

  “Yum. Thanks!” I loved eating dinner at the Hall’s house and I loved that Mrs. Hall knew I loved lasagna.

  At dinner, we talked all about the show and how we were raising money for the meals program at the Senior Center.

  “What an excellent idea,” Mr. Hall said.

  “It was Sasha’s,” Kevin said and then he turned toward me. “What was up with you at the meeting today? You volunteered for everything.” He popped a green bean into his mouth.

  “That’s great.” Mrs. Hall handed Kevin a napkin. “Nothing gets done without volunteers.” She stood up. “Anyone want seconds?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “Everything was delicious.”

  “Sash, you better start baking now.” Kevin wiped his mouth with the napkin. “How many cupcakes do you need to make? A thousand?”

  “Ha, ha.” I stood up to clear my plate. “I think we’ll make cookies this year.”

  “Better make two thousand then.”

  “Kevin. Stop teasing Sasha,” Mr. Hall said as he followed me into the kitchen.

  He teases you. That was on my list of clues! Check.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind.” And I didn’t. Because I’d reached a sixty-six percent chance that Kevin liked me. True, if I got a sixty-six on a test, I’d still be upset, but I was headed in the right direction.

  After dinner, Mom picked me up.

  “How was your day?” she asked as I slid into the front seat of the car.

  But before I could answer, Mom had moved on. “Did you go to the Robotics meeting at lunch today?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Did I forget to tell you? I read about it in the school newsletter. They meet on Mondays and are looking for new members.”

  “Mom, I have meetings for the show on Mondays.”

  “But that will end in a few weeks. You should go talk to the Robotics advisor and ask if you can join in January.”

  I said nothing as I popped in my earbuds and played “Winter Dreams.” I closed my eyes. Listening to the music, I ran through the opening of our routine. I pictured my arms rising, my feet flexing, my body turning. I pushed away Mom’s nagging and I escaped to my happy place where only music and movement flowed.

 

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