Me: U want 2 go 2 D’Lights Night with me?
I waited and then the dots appeared … the three little dots … dot, dot, dotting on my screen. I held my breath, waiting.
And then, ping.
Kevin: Y
Yesssss! From the top of my bookshelf, I picked up the silly top hat and spun it on my hand. Yesssss! Kevin and I were going to Downtown D’Lights on Saturday night. Together. It would be a date. A first date! Everything was coming together. Karly might have Ahmed, but I had Kevin (almost, sort of). I was excited and nervous, like I was about to take a big test I’d studied hard for.
In the cafeteria on Tuesday, I made my way through the line, wishing I’d packed my lunch. The fish sticks smelled too fishy. The peas looked mushy. The bread roll was rock hard. But when I saw Karly grab a bottle of chocolate milk from the bin, my mood lifted.
“You eating down here?” I asked, hoping she was.
“No.” She grabbed another milk and an apple juice. “Quiz Bowl. We’re meeting in Mrs. Giberga’s room today.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my tray; the peas rolled into a fish stick.
“See ya!” she called, but I didn’t respond. I was trying to figure out where I was going to sit. Scanning the tables, I looked for Kevin. He was the only one in our group who wouldn’t be in the auditorium practicing. Someone bumped me; my unopened milk carton toppled onto the fish stick covered with peas. I needed to sit down, but where? When I saw a spot next to a girl in my science class, I headed over to her table, but as I reached it another girl slid into the seat. Carrying my tray, I walked around the cafeteria, desperate to find a seat and wondering where Kevin was. Finally, I saw an open spot at a table of eighth graders. I didn’t know any of them, and I hoped they wouldn’t tell me I couldn’t sit there.
“Hey,” a girl said to me as I sat down, and then she resumed her conversation about a basketball game with her friend sitting across from her.
“Hey,” I mumbled, feeling pretty awkward, but at least I had a seat.
It turned out the whole table was on the girls’ basketball team. When they described the set-up for the winning point in their last game, I sat silently running through our dance routine. We still hadn’t choreographed the ending. I was thinking we might want to add a lift (Kevin lifting me), but at our last practice, Karly had said she didn’t think we were ready for that.
Where was Kevin? I knew Mira and Anna were in the auditorium rehearsing, but Kevin should’ve been in the cafeteria. As I chewed a piece of rubbery fish stick, I looked around the loud cafeteria. But I couldn’t find him. Which just made me feel more alone.
“Sasha!” I looked up, and there was Pete walking toward me.
“Hey Pete!” I felt better already.
“Ms. Kumar wants us to make copies of the flyer.” He waved a paper in his hand.
“Let’s do it!” I was psyched to escape the cafeteria. Pete walked with me as I threw away my trash and set my tray on the rack. Then we headed to the office. We didn’t talk, but unlike sitting at the table with the girls’ basketball team, I didn’t feel awkward. When we arrived at the copier, the front panel was open, and Ahmed knelt on the ground peering inside the machine.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I was making copies for our practice round when the machine just stopped.” He hit the side panel and glanced up at the clock on the wall.
“Don’t hit it.” I stepped forward. “Let me look.”
Ahmed and I traded places. I had made a lot of copies for the Food Drive and other community service activities, so I knew the machine. I opened up another panel and pulled out a half-crumpled sheet of paper. Then I closed everything, gently pressing the main panel shut.
“It was a paper jam.” I stood up and pressed the restart button. The machine hummed. “It’ll work now.”
“Thanks,” Ahmed said.
Pete looked over at me and smiled.
I smiled back, and felt my face heat up. Did Pete think I was a nerd for knowing so much about the copier? Taking the elastic off my wrist, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, which made my neck feel cooler.
Karly walked into the office. “What’s taking so long?” she asked Ahmed, and then noticed Pete and me. “Oh, hey! What’s up?”
“Not much. We’re just waiting to make copies for the Holidaze Spectacular flyer,” I said.
“I’m done.” Ahmed picked up a stack of papers.
“Cool,” Karly said, but I wasn’t sure if she was talking to Ahmed or me. “See ya,” she waved as they exited the office.
Pete stepped toward the machine, but I followed Karly into the hallway. I wanted to remind her about practice.
I called to her, “Don’t forget …” But I stopped when I saw them. Karly and Ahmed were halfway down the hall—and they were holding hands. Holding hands!
Back in the office, Pete was already making copies. I leaned up against the wall, my head spinning from what I’d just seen. If Karly and Ahmed were holding hands at school, I’m pretty sure it meant they were a couple. Which made me wonder:
One: Why hadn’t Karly told me? My stomach twisted, thinking of her keeping a secret that big.
And two: How could I get there with Kevin?
“I’m going to save some for the shops downtown,” Pete said, bringing me back to real time. He lifted the stack of flyers off the machine. “But Ms. Kumar said we should hang some up around school.” He handed me half. “We have ten minutes before next period. Where do you want to start?”
“I don’t know.” I was having trouble focusing on anything other than Karly and Ahmed holding hands!
“I’ll take the sixth-grade hallway and you could do the seventh,” Pete said.
With the stack of flyers in my hand, I headed down the hall, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Karly and Ahmed. I was barely paying attention as I tacked a flyer up on the bulletin board across from a long row of lockers. Then I headed toward the music room, but as I passed the art studio, I heard Kevin’s voice.
Peering into the room, I saw Ms. McMann, the art teacher, standing at a table with Kevin and Ryan next to her.
“Sash-aaa!” Kevin sang.
“What are you guys doing?” I stepped inside.
“Decorations.” Ryan held up his hands. They were coated in goo. “You want to help?”
I eyed a bunch of blown-up balloons on the floor. “That’s for the auditorium?”
“Yup.” Ryan lifted up a strip of newspaper. I looked over at Kevin.
“The boys have decided on papier–mâché snowmen and hanging snowflakes,” Ms. McMann explained as she walked over to the deep sink at the back of the room. “It’s an ambitious project.”
“Oh, wow. Sorry, though—I can’t help right now. I need to finish hanging these flyers.” I waved the stack in the air. It seemed silly but I wished Kevin would offer to help me. I hadn’t talked to him (not really) since I sent him the text about going to Downtown D’Lights. And after seeing Karly and Ahmed together together, I wanted to make sure we were moving ahead too. “I can help tomorrow,” I said, standing in the doorway.
I thought Kevin would say something to me then, but he was too busy flicking Ryan with goo.
“That would be great, Sasha.” Ms. McMann dried her hands with a paper towel. “Come during lunch.” Then she turned toward them. “Boys! Focus!”
I headed down the hall. At least I had a plan for surviving lunch tomorrow. And I would be hanging out with Kevin. Which was really good because Downtown D’Lights Night (a.k.a. our first date!) was only three days away. It was a super important night, especially now that I knew exactly what needed to happen. Kevin and I were going to hold hands.
Chapter Eleven
BAM! BAM! BAM!
As soon as I opened the door to the apartment and saw Mom, I knew she was angry. She stood with the phone to her ear, her lips pressed together. I dropped my bags, hung up my coat, and eyed the door to my room, wondering if I could get there before she started ye
lling. Mom’s lips always tightened before she yelled … at Dad. As I slipped inside my room, I heard the words:
“I told you this would happen.”
She was definitely talking to Dad.
A few minutes later she knocked on my door. As she stepped inside, I realized Dad wasn’t the only one in trouble.
“Have you been on GradeCheck recently?” The online grade book, updated regularly by teachers and checked daily—sometimes hourly—by helicopter parents was, as far as I was concerned, one of the worst inventions ever.
“Yes.” I sat on my bed, my back against the headboard. “My science grade dropped two points.”
“It’s a B.” She massaged her temples as if she had a headache, as if my grade was giving her a headache.
“Mom, it’s not a big deal It’s a B+.”
“It’s science, Sasha. It is a big deal. Tech Magnet won’t consider your application if your science grades aren’t excellent.”
I wanted to say, I’m only in seventh grade and I don’t even want to go to Tech Magnet. But instead I said, “I’m like two points away from an A. I can get the grade back up.”
“Sasha,” Mom sighed. “You’re spending too much time on dance.”
“What?”
“Yes.” She glanced over at my bulletin board. It was filled with recital photos and a High School for the Performing Arts poster. “It’s just, it takes up so much of your time. You’re practicing every day.”
“But Mom, it’s the Holidaze Spectacular. It’s important.” There was no way I was giving up the show. Winning that was my only chance at the Summer Academy. And that was the closest I was ever going to get to the High School for Performing Arts, if Mom had anything to do with it.
“I know, I know. It’s important to you. But after the show, I want you to refocus.”
“Refocus?”
“Yes, I want you to sign up for the robotics team and the coding course I was telling you about.”
“Mom!” She didn’t want me to “refocus”—she wanted me to change. I tugged at the pillow behind me, repositioning it. “I’m not Claire.”
“I know that, but you need to add some STEM activities and get your science grade up.”
I stared straight ahead, not saying anything.
“Sash, I just want you to have choices.” Mom headed toward the door as I pulled my earbuds out of my backpack.
Choices? Yeah, me too. Like I wanted to be able to decide how I spend my time and where I apply to high school.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked before leaving.
“Fine.” I pushed the earbuds into my ears. But I didn’t feel fine. I didn’t want to be on a robotics team. I wanted to dance, not code. And I wanted Mom to be proud of me, not disappointed that I wasn’t like Claire.
On Wednesday during lunch, I headed to the art room to help with decorations.
A bunch of other kids were there too. At the back table, Pete and a couple of his friends from the basketball team were painting the papier–mâché snowmen. (That was nice of him to recruit help. We needed it!) Mira and Anna were working at a table up front. But I didn’t see Kevin. Or Ryan.
“Where’s Kevin?” I asked Mira, who was very carefully cutting out a cardboard snowflake.
“I think he’s in the auditorium. He said something about working on an acro trick with Ryan.”
Weird. Kevin must be teaching Ryan how to do something for his act. I tried to shrug it off, but it bugged me that he was spending time helping another performer. Ryan was our competition, and he was going to be tough to beat. I wished Kevin wasn’t helping him. We were a team—not Ryan and Kevin.
“Here.” Mira handed me a white piece of cardboard. “Cut this snowflake, and then put glitter on it.”
I got to work but the whole time, I kept glancing over at the door, hoping Kevin would walk in. But he didn’t.
“Looks good,” Ms. McCann said as I showed her a row of finished snowflakes. “We’ll need clear fishing line to hang them from the ceiling.”
“I can get that,” Pete said from behind me. “We sell it at the store.”
“Thanks, Pete,” Ms. McMann said. Then she moved toward Mira, who was waving her glitter-covered hand.
“Sasha?” Pete said.
“Oh, hi!” I turned to face him.
“I was wondering …” he looked down at his hands, “if you want to work on the promo video sometime? The one you told me about, for the show.”
“Sure, yeah.” It was really nice that he remembered—I had almost forgotten about it.
“I was thinking we could splice together photos and videos of the different things that go into putting on the show,” Pete said. “Like a clip from making the decorations, then of rehearsals, then of hanging up flyers.”
“That’s a good idea.” I brushed a strand of hair off my face. “I’ll take some photos.”
“Um, you …” Pete started to say, and sort of reached toward my face before dropping his hand. “You got glitter on your chin.” He grinned.
“Oh, whoops!” I laughed and wiped it off.
“Anyway, maybe we can put it together this weekend. That will give us time to get it out on social media.”
“Okay, sure. How about Sunday afternoon?” I couldn’t do Saturday. I’d be too busy getting ready for the big date.
“Great!” Pete said. “It’s a plan.” We smiled at each other, then we went to clean up.
On the way to class, I spotted Kevin in front of me in the hallway but I didn’t call to him. The funny thing was, I’d forgotten I’d been looking for him.
After school, I stopped in at the classroom where the Knitting Club met. There were only three members, but they seemed excited about the hat and mitten drive.
“Why don’t you put this on the tree?” An eighth-grade boy handed me a blue hat with a big pom-pom. “The tree looks pretty bare. It might help.”
“Thanks, this is perfect!” I said. On my way out of school, I put the hat on top of the pink tree. It looked cute, but otherwise the tree really was empty. Well, not totally empty—there was one pair of store-bought mittens. Leaning over, I read the tag. They were from Sugarman’s. Pete must’ve donated them! That made me smile, and I pushed through the school doors feeling good.
Outside, the cold air made my teeth chatter; as I headed to JayJay’s, I pulled my fleece neck warmer up over my chin.
On Wednesdays, Karly and I had a dance class focused on leaps, jumps, and turns. But when I arrived in the studio, panting and out of breath from running the last third of the way, Karly wasn’t there. As I sashayed across the studio and practiced my stag leaps, I wondered where she was. Our plan was to practice our routine after class. Kevin didn’t come to the studio on Wednesdays, so Karly and I were going to walk to the Hall’s house and then practice all together for an hour. So where was she?
By the time class ended, I was angry.
Pulling out my phone, I texted her: Where r u? I waited, watching for the three dots to appear, but nothing.
Then I texted Kevin: What’s up? R u ready to practice? Again, I waited and again, nothing.
How could they both blow off practice? Didn’t they realize we needed to stick to our schedule? Irritated, I decided I’d head home. There was no point in going to the Hall’s house if Karly and Kevin weren’t there.
I held my phone in my mitten-covered hand as I walked, so I could see if either of them had texted me, but by the time I reached Sugarman’s, neither of them had. Angry and cold, I headed inside to buy a snack. Mom had a late class on Wednesdays, and I wasn’t exactly psyched for dinner: microwavable corndogs with a side of freezer burn.
The bells jangled on the door behind me. The warmth of the store made my cheeks tingle as I pulled off my mittens.
“Hey,” Pete said from the counter in the back.
Anna was doing her homework at a café table. “Sasha!”
“Hey.” I waved to both of them, then looked down at my phone. Still nothing.
I ordered a hot cocoa and a cookie from Mr. Sugarman, and sat down next to Anna.
“Here you go.” Pete carried the food and drink over to me.
“Thanks.” I took a sip. Yum.
Anna had a page of math problems on the table in front of her, but she was looking at her phone, scrolling through Instagram.
“Don’t you need to get your homework done?” I asked.
“Yes, Mom.” She rolled her eyes at me. “But check this out.” Anna tilted her phone toward me. It was a photo of Ahmed and Karly sipping on straws stuck into the same milk shake. “They’re looking pretty cozy, wouldn’t you say?”
I reached for the phone. “When was that posted?”
“Two minutes ago.”
Seriously? Karly blew off practice to hang out with Ahmed? She didn’t even text to tell me. And it didn’t look like she was practicing for Quiz Bowl—it looked like she was on a date. I started to fume.
“Wait, where are you going?” Anna said when I stood to put on my coat. “I thought you could help me with math. And you haven’t even finished your cocoa!”
“Call me later,” I said, heading to the door.
Back in the apartment, I turned on “Winter Dreams.” Without Mom at home, I blasted the music from the speaker in the kitchen, then I pushed back the dining room table and practiced our dance. Maybe Karly and Kevin weren’t taking the performance seriously, but I was. By the time I ran through it a third time, my anger started to loosen. And by the fourth time, I was lost in the music. My ponytail whipped from side to side as I headed into the knee drop. And on the floor, I focused on each movement.
I owned it.
Then the pounding began. The music was so loud that at first, I thought it was part of the beat. But then I realized it wasn’t coming from the speaker. It was coming from below me.
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