“I don’t know.” He nodded toward a small child crawling on the ground. “The competition looks pretty fierce.”
“Ha.” I shook the roll of toilet paper in my hand. “You better stand still.”
“Kevin!” A little kid Kevin and Karly had babysat for bounded into the room. “Can you be my partner? Please, please.” He tugged on Kevin’s sleeve.
“Of course, buddy. You can join our team.”
What? This was not what I planned.
“Mine!” The little kid grabbed the roll of toilet paper from my hand.
“Go!” Miss Melinda called as a song about a snowman blasted into the room.
You’ve got to be kidding me! I thought as the little kid (apparently our partner) threw the roll of toilet paper over Kevin’s head. What a fail! I wasn’t going to get close to Kevin, and to top it off, we were going to lose.
“Here.” I picked up the roll. “Why don’t I do his head and shoulders.” I stepped forward to start wrapping but the kid yelled, “No! I want to do it!”
Sighing, I handed him the roll of toilet paper.
“You can do it, buddy,” Kevin said but the kid bent over and started wrapping his own knees.
“I want to be the snowman,” he said.
“No problem.” Kevin reached for the roll. “We can wrap you up real fast.”
Let’s start with his mouth, I thought.
“No!” The kid pulled the toilet paper back. “I want to do it myself.”
Kevin, whose knees were still wrapped in toilet paper, shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.”
Kevin and I watched as the kid wrapped a wad of toilet paper around his own neck and then started on his ankles. A few seconds later, the winners were announced—a husband and wife who were Senior Center regulars.
“You made me lose!” the little kid said to us as he ran out of the room. The toilet paper still stuck to him. Kevin and I looked at each other and cracked up.
“Remind me to let Karly babysit for him alone next time.”
“Dance Party!” Big T called as he cranked the music. Then everyone in the room danced. The snowmen busted out of their wrappings. Shredded toilet paper flew into the air. We laughed as sheets of tissue paper fell onto our heads. Kevin wadded up a bunch and threw it at me as if it were a snowball. I ducked, and then scooped some off the floor.
Kevin did a jig. “You can’t catch me.”
“Got you!” I said, hitting him with a wad of toilet paper.
“How about decorating cupcakes at the bakery?” Kevin pointed down the block as we walked along Main Street, checking out the window displays and the lights. “I think I saw Ryan—”
“Um.” Ryan? No way. I was determined to stick to my schedule and I was not interested in running into any of our friends. “I thought we could get dinner at Salvatore’s?”
“Sure,” Kevin said. “You know me.” He patted his puffy coat. “I’m always hungry.”
But as soon as we stepped inside Salvatore’s, Anna and Mira called to us from a booth. Shoot!
“Help us finish this,” Mira said as we approached. “We should’ve ordered slices, but Anna insisted we order a whole pizza.” Mira clutched her stomach.
“You’re the one who wanted the meat lover’s,” Anna said. “So don’t blame me if you have indigestion.”
“Looks great to me.” Kevin plopped down in the booth next to Mira.
Anna scooted over; reluctantly, I sat next to her. This was definitely not the cozy dinner for two I’d imagined. The chance of Kevin and I holding hands during dinner just went from possible to impossible.
Kevin grabbed a slice, folded the sides inward, and took a bite.
“Here.” Anna handed me a plate while Kevin picked up Mira’s soda and took a big gulp.
“Sure, no problem, Kev.” Mira rolled her eyes. “Next time, could you ask?”
Orange-colored pizza grease seeped onto my paper plate, and I picked off the sausage pieces from my slice.
“I’ll eat those.” Kevin put down Mira’s soda and popped a piece of sausage into his mouth, then licked his fingers.
I’d forgotten what a gross eater Kevin could be—snarfing his food like a vacuum cleaner. He was also infamous for his long-lasting burps (his record was seventeen seconds, and yes, he’d timed it).
As if on cue, Kevin burped.
“Gross,” Anna said. I made a face.
“Oops.” He looked over at me. “Sorry.”
Nothing was going the way I planned. But still we had ice skating, which I’d figured was my best chance for hand-holding anyway. But Kevin definitely needed to wash his hands first.
I ate a slice, and despite the pepperoni overkill, it tasted good.
“After this, you guys want to go to the Karaoke station?” Mira asked.
“Yup.” Kevin grabbed another piece. “For sure.”
“Uh …” I looked over at Kevin. “I thought we’d go ice skating next.”
“You? Ice skating?” Anna turned toward me. “Sash, you said you were never going again. Remember?”
I remembered. The last time I’d skated (if that’s what you could call my sad combination of shuffling and falling, shuffling and falling) was at Mira’s eleventh birthday party. But this was different. I had a goal and this was the best way to reach it.
“Yeah, well.” I looked over at Kevin, chewing on the crust. “He’s going to teach me.”
“I am?” Kevin asked, his mouth full of food.
“You are.” I nodded.
“Good luck with that!” Mira winked at Kevin as she and Anna stood.
“I know why Sasha wants to go skating.” Anna zipped up her coat.
Oh no … was Anna about to say I wanted to go so I could hold hands with Kevin? She would definitely start teasing us … but I secretly hoped she’d come up with “Kevasha” on her own.
“Why?” Mira asked.
“She wants to check out the hot chocolate stand.” Anna bumped Mira’s arm. “You know, Pete Sugarman.”
“What?” Kevin sprayed soda from his mouth onto the table. “Sasha has a crush on Pete?”
“No! No I don’t. I—” But there was nothing I could say. They weren’t listening. The three of them kept cracking up as they tried different ways of combining my name with Pete.
“Pete-asha,” Kevin said. “That’s it.”
My heart dropped. How had things gone this wrong? Now Kevin thought I liked Pete!
“Totally,” Mira said.
“Petasha, Petasha,” the three of them chanted.
“Stop! No!” I covered my ears, but it was useless.
“Petasha!” Kevin’s voice was loudest of all.
Chapter Fourteen
FALLING
Out on the ice, Kevin skated fast. He circled the rink with smooth crossover turns while I shuffled along with one hand gripping the wall. In front of me, a toddler inched along. She was about a thousand times steadier than me. Talk about embarrassing. This was a terrible idea.
“Wait up!” I called as Kevin whizzed past again.
“How can you be such a good dancer but such a bad skater?” Kevin did an impressive hockey stop in front of me.
“Ice.” I pushed off with my blade and teetered forward. “I don’t dance on ice.”
“Watch.” Kevin glided forward. I followed behind him, wobbling, my arms stretching out toward him.
Kevin waited for me, and when I reached him, he linked his arm with mine.
Yes! This was the best idea! Side by side, we glided forward. I was feeling good—until I spotted three preschoolers who were holding on to crates directly in front of us. I was headed right toward them, and fast. Taking out three little kids in an epic crash was not my goal for the night!
“Kevin?” I wasn’t sure what was shaking more—my voice or my legs. “We’re going to …”
“Going to what?” Kevin said. One of the preschoolers was only a foot away. I closed my eyes but Kevin grabbed hold of my arm and steered us around t
hem. When I opened my eyes, they were behind us—all three kids, all three crates—still upright. Phew.
We skated around and around the rink. Well, Kevin skated and I clung to his arm, hoping I wouldn’t fall.
“You know I don’t have a crush on Pete.” I nodded toward the banner above Sugarman’s Hot Chocolate Stand set up between the lit Christmas tree and the giant, unlit menorah (Hanukkah didn’t start for a few more days).
“Sash, you told me. Like, twenty times on the way over here. It’s not a big deal.”
“But I don’t. I like …” I was about to say you—I like you, but just then a little kid buzzed by me, which made me lose my balance. I lurched forward.
“Whoa.” Kevin grabbed my waist, saving me from the ice. As I straightened back up, his hand reached out for mine—and then it was happening—the very thing I’d been hoping for all night. We were holding hands.
Well, our wool mittens were holding hands, but still …
“Hey!” Ryan called, skating toward us.
Ryan? Seriously? Right now? Talk about bad timing! How was I going to keep Kevin focused on me? They would probably want to try their new acro stunts on the ice, or something, and then I would be left watching.
“Hey!” Kevin lifted our hands into the air to wave at him.
At least we were still holding hands.
Until Ryan tagged the back of Kevin’s coat, said, “You’re it,” and sped away.
Kevin dropped my hand and chased after Ryan. I shuffled toward the wall, but about six feet away from it, a girl careened into me, knocking me down onto the ice.
“Sorry!” she called over her shoulder.
Ouch. I straightened my hat and then tried to get back up. But after two attempts, I still wasn’t on my feet, and the cold was starting to seep through my mittens and jeans.
On my knees, I crawled toward the wall. Skaters whizzed by all around me.
“You okay?” a boy half my age asked.
“No.”
It was official—I’d crossed over from embarrassment to total humiliation. Plus, I was pretty sure I had frostbite on the tip of my nose.
“You want help?” The boy’s little arms stretched toward me.
“No,” I said, but I did. I wanted Kevin’s help. But Kevin hadn’t even noticed I’d fallen.
The kid shrugged his shoulders and skated away.
Clutching the wall, I stood up. My feet ached, especially my toes. I tried to wiggle them, but they were numb from the cold, or maybe the skates were too tight. Either way, I couldn’t feel them.
Against the flow of all the other skaters, I inched toward the exit, gripping the top of the wall.
“Where are you going?” Kevin asked, skating toward me.
“To sit down.” I pointed to the benches. But by the time I finished the sentence, he was already gone, racing after Ryan.
At the exit, I turned back toward the rink. Kevin was only a foot away from Ryan. He reached out his hand to tag him, but Ryan pushed ahead just in time. They were both so good at skating, their game of tag could take all night.
On the bench, I unlaced my skates and wiggled some feeling back into my toes. The rink was crowded and a few other kids joined Kevin and Ryan’s game of tag. I laughed as a little boy finally tagged Ryan, then sped away. Kevin held a little girl’s hand as they skated ahead of Ryan, trying not to get caught. When Ryan neared, Kevin blocked the girl so she wouldn’t be tagged. When Ryan hit the back of Kevin’s puffy coat, they all skated away from Kevin and another round began.
I heard Karly’s laugh before I saw her. I turned around, and there she was—wearing ice skates, walking toward the rink. Other members of the Quiz Bowl teetered next to her.
“Hey,” I said as she passed by.
“Oh, hey!” Startled, she stopped at the bench. “I didn’t see you there. Where’s Kevin? He told me the two of you were hanging out.”
I pointed to the rink, where Kevin landed a toe loop jump.
“He’s such a show-off.” Karly scratched her nose with her gloved finger. “And he’s met his perfect match.” She pointed to Ryan. “He’s a show-off too.”
“You coming?” Ahmed asked her as he passed.
“Yeah.” She looked down at my skates. “You want to skate with us?”
“Nah, I’ll wait for Kevin.”
“You sure? It could be a while.”
“I’m good,” I said. But as minutes passed, I felt colder and colder. Watching Kevin and Ryan trying to one-up each other was starting to get annoying. And then there was the Quiz Bowl team: Most of them weren’t that much better than me, but unlike me, they looked like they were having fun. With Karly in the middle, they formed a line, linking arms. When Ahmed wobbled, bringing all of them crashing onto the ice, they all were laughing hysterically. Then, when one would stand up, another one would fall back down, but they never stopped laughing and smiling.
A kid sat down on the bench next to me to drink his hot chocolate. It smelled good. It looked good too—a perfect swirl of whipped cream rose from the cup.
I glanced over at the stand. There was a long line, maybe ten people deep. I saw the kid next to me take another sip, which left a mustache of chocolate above his lip. A cup of warm hot chocolate sounded really good. I decided to go get some.
I returned my rental skates, put on my boots, and headed over to the stand.
“Sasha!” Mr. Sugarman called, gesturing for me to approach the table.
“Hi, Mr. Sugarman.” I stood next to the line, wondering why he’d called me over.
“Would you be willing to help Pete while I run back to the store and get more whipped cream?”
“Sure!” I was happy to help Mr. Sugarman. Plus, it sure beat freezing my butt off on the bench. I looked over at Pete, who was filling up a cup.
“Hey, Sasha,” Pete said, and smiled at me. “It’s pretty easy back here—we just fill them up.” He pointed to the thermos, “and hand them out.”
“Got it!” I said, grabbing an empty cup from the tall stack.
At first the line grew longer, and at one point it seemed like Pete’s entire basketball team showed up, but we worked quickly, and soon there were only a couple of people in line. Then there was no one.
“Break time.” As Pete poured us each a cup of hot chocolate, I realized that for the past fifteen minutes, I hadn’t even thought about being cold or about Kevin. The work had warmed me up. I’d even taken my coat off.
“Sorry, no peppermint,” Pete said, grinning, as he handed me the cup.
“I’m sure it will still be delicious. Thanks.” We clinked cups and then each took a sip. Mmm … just as good as I’d hoped. My face felt warm as I smiled back at Pete.
The sound of someone clearing his throat made us turn toward the counter at the same time. It was Ryan, and standing next to him was Kevin.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryan said, winking at me and bumping Kevin’s shoulder with his. “It looks like things are heating up at the hot chocolate stand.” Ugh, Kevin had told him the whole Petasha joke. I rolled my eyes.
“Huh?” Pete looked at Ryan, and then Kevin. “Do you guys want hot chocolate?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Two, please.”
When I handed Kevin a cup, he mouthed something to me. Did he just say “I like you”?
What? I mouthed back.
He did it again, but I couldn’t tell for sure.
What? I mouthed again.
He leaned forward, cupping his hand around my ear, and I swallowed nervously as I waited to hear what he said.
“Petasha!” he whispered in my ear.
Nooooo! I wanted to scream.
But I said nothing as I watched Kevin—who was supposed to be my date!—laughing with his new best friend, and then walking away from me. What a fail.
Chapter Fifteen
PETASHA AND OTHER PROBLEMS
Beep … beep … the sound of an incoming text woke me the next morning. Beep … beep. I grabbed my phone from
the bedside table (I’d forgotten to park it on the kitchen counter before I went to sleep, and Mom was so focused on studying, she hadn’t noticed). The text was from Anna.
Anna? She was seriously the last person I wanted to hear from. Thanks to her ridiculous idea that Pete and I should be a thing, my first date had turned into a total disaster.
Anna: OMG Petasha 2 cute
STOP, I texted back, then stashed the phone under my pillow. I didn’t want to talk to anyone and I certainly didn’t want to look at any more photos of Kevin having fun at Dowtown D’Lights without me. Last night, my Instagram feed was full of them: Kevin and Ryan singing Karaoke, Kevin and Ryan decorating cupcakes, Kevin and Ryan doing handstands under the lit Christmas tree. Enough already.
True. I’d left early, right after Mr. Sugarman returned to the hot chocolate stand with the whipped cream. But when I started walking home, Kevin called, “Bye, Sasha! See ya tomorrow!” He said it like it was no big deal—like my leaving was no big deal. Which I was pretty sure was not how you should be acting toward your date.
How was I going to get Kevin and me back on track? He needed to know I liked him, not Pete.
Claire would know. She was the one person I wanted to talk to, but as I was about to call her, I stopped, realizing she would still be fast asleep in California. Waking up my sister was never a good idea. I’d have to wait.
Closing my eyes, I pulled the blanket over my head. Basically, I wanted to stay there all day, but I couldn’t. Pete and I were meeting to work on the promo video for the show, then I was heading over to Karly and Kevin’s to practice our routine.
Groaning, I pushed off the blanket and sat up. I did a deep yoga breath—inhale for four, exhale for five—then stretched my arms over my head, bent forward, and then slowly came back up. I felt better, or at least good enough to search through my pile of already worn clothes to find the “cleanest” of my dirty yoga pants.
“Looks like someone needs to do laundry,” Mom said from the dining room table, giving me a once-over. “Do you have your darks sorted? I’ll start with those.”
Sorted? “Not yet.” I grabbed my dance bag and headed to the hall closet for my coat. “I’ll do it later.”
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