Let's Face It

by Jodi R. Moore

  I looked around the room at my competition. Sean must’ve been doing the same because for a second we were looking right at each other.

  He mouthed “good luck” to me and I mouthed back “thanks.” I had much more I wanted to tell him, but it wasn’t the right time. Maybe on the plane to DC.

  I looked back at Rachel. I knew she had seen me look at Sean. If she knew how fast my heart was beating I’d be totally busted. But she probably knew. Best friends are like that. “So, if you and Sean were both at Science Camp you still think your crush would be over?”

  “Yes.” But even I wasn’t fully convinced. It would be an interesting experiment though. “I just would hope we could be good friends. That’s all I want now.”

  “I didn’t think this day would ever come, but I actually believe you,” Rachel said, looking over at Sean standing next to his solar display. “There’s something I want to tell you but I’m afraid you’ll be mad.”

  “What? I won’t be mad,” I said. Did she know about Jenna? And Maron? I really wanted to talk to her about it, but I couldn’t say anything unless she already knew. “Just tell me.”

  “Okay . . . I’ve known Sean even longer than you have—and I’ve never like liked him, but this year—you were right. He did get cuter. I got to know him better in Spanish class—well not really that well, but he was funny and it made me want to get to know him better. And now, since you don’t like him anymore. I don’t know. I just feel like I sort of like him. I just don’t think he’d ever like me. I don’t know. What do you think? Are you mad?”

  Shocked. Yes. Mad? I didn’t know what I was feeling really. It was like the world had been turned upside down. Like I had just been on a crazy roller coaster—except I was still on it. All of my friends liked Sean! And I was the only one who knew.

  “I’m not mad.” Okay, just a little. I wanted to tell her about Jenna and Maron. There was definitely going to be some drama between them if I was at Science Camp and Sean was back in San Diego for them to fight over. But if we were both at Science Camp that would solve everything. Maybe once Junior Lifeguards started my friends would forget all about Sean.

  “Don’t say anything to anyone, okay?” Rachel said. “I don’t want anyone to know until I’m sure I really like him. But I’m pretty sure I do. I’ve been thinking about him a lot since your birthday. I kept trying not to. But if you really don’t like him anymore . . . you still don’t, right?”

  Was this her way of testing me?

  “I don’t.” One look and she should’ve been able to see that the same stubbornness, strong-will and determination that kept my crush going for three years could also get me over my crush. And get me to Science Camp, I thought, as Mrs. Diaz went to the podium to introduce the judges.

  Through the window, I could see my mom jog up to the library door in her high heels. She had made it back from her speaking engagement downtown just in time. After a quick wave toward me, she walked briskly over to my table.

  “Kaylin, you did such a nice job on your display,” my mom whispered, while one of the judges walked up to the podium. “I’m thinking good thoughts for you.” I could hear her quietly whispering “D-C-D-C-D-C-D-C” the way she got the crowd pumped when she gave one of her motivational speeches. I gave her that please-don’t-embarrass-me look, but if the so-called positive energy she was famous for could get me to Science Camp, I wouldn’t have cared if the whole room chanted with her.

  She stopped when the judge started talking.

  “We want to thank everyone for their participation today. We really enjoyed meeting all of you and hearing about your projects,” the judge said. “There are so many talented students in this room, and we can only pick two to send to the Science Camp Invitational. These two projects really have important implications for the health of your fellow students and the planet. . . .”

  The judge picked up the first golden microscope.

  “Congratulations . . . Sean Wimmers . . .”

  Yes! I knew it!

  Sean ran up to the podium and raised the trophy up high as my dad took a picture.

  He stepped aside as the judge took the remaining golden microscope from the table. I could already see the picture of us together in the paper.

  “And joining Sean at Science Camp this year . . . congratulations Courtney Capriani!”

  What? Are you kidding me? Courtney was squealing with excitement, running up to grab her trophy. My trophy! How could this be happening?

  I didn’t realize fake tanning had become a health epidemic. Not like acne! I doubted fifty million people were dealing with the hazards of fake tanning. Wasn’t there an obvious solution to that health crisis? Wear sunscreen and don’t fake bake!

  Courtney didn’t even like science and now Mrs. Diaz was congratulating her while my dad took pictures for the paper. If I didn’t book it outta there soon I was going to end up in the background of one of his photos, crying.

  Rachel said she felt bad and that I totally should’ve won. That’s what friends are for—minus the part about them all liking Sean.

  “At least we’ll all be together for the summer,” she said and gave me a hug goodbye before she left to wait for her mom in front of the school.

  I shut the laptop on my display table and shoved it in my backpack along with my project portfolio. “Mom, can you carry my posters? I’ve got to get my PE clothes out of my locker. I’ll meet you and Dad at the car.”

  “Sure thing,” she said in that I’m-sorry-honey voice with that look like her heart was breaking because she knew mine was, too.

  When I walked out of the library, I wanted to scream. It was so unfair! Courtney Capriani probably didn’t even want to go to Science Camp. As soon as she finished posing for my dad she probably texted all her orange friends like it was some kind of joke.

  The only reason I wasn’t crying as I cleared out my locker was because I was so mad. That, and because Sean was at his locker, too, which happened to be nine lockers over from mine. I wasn’t about to let him see me cry—even though he of all people must’ve known how I felt.

  “Hey, Sean,” I said, pretending nothing was wrong. “Congratulations. You must be pretty psyched about DC.”

  “Yeah,” he said, closing his locker.

  All school year long, I tried to time going to my locker so that I’d run into Sean—hoping for those times when nobody else would be around except the two of us. I’d plan out conversations we’d have, except they never happened because his friends were there or the bell was going to ring or I just couldn’t get up the nerve. Sometimes I thought he might’ve ran off quickly to avoid any kind of uncomfortable conversation. He must’ve known I liked him. Everyone knew.

  But he wasn’t running away now. He was walking straight over to my locker.

  He looked at me like he understood how disappointed I was. “I can’t believe Courtney won. There’s always next year,” he said.

  But I wanted to go this year. I hadn’t made any other plans for the summer thinking for sure I’d be in DC. So much for thinking positively.

  “Well, I guess there’s one good thing about me not going with you. I should finally be able to get over my crush.” Um, did I say that out loud? Rewind. Rewind. Nope. Too late.

  “Oh . . . kay.” He said it awkwardly, almost like a question, like he didn’t know what else to say.

  Standing there with him I realized, as much as I wanted to not like him, I still did. And what made it worse now was all my friends did, too!

  There was nobody I could even talk to about it.

  Except . . . “Sean, there’s something I want to tell you, but I know I shouldn’t.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “It’s not about me.” For once. “It’s about my friends. Don’t say anything, but they all like you. Like you like you.”

  “What are you talking about, Kaylin?”

  “For real. Rachel, Jenna and Maron. First Jenna told me and I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. Then Ma
ron. I guess she realized it when you signed her yearbook. Rachel told me at the science fair, and she has no idea about the others. They all like you!”

  “Um, yeah, you probably shouldn’t have told me.”

  I knew he was right, but in a way I might’ve been helping my friends if I could figure out if Sean liked one of them. What’s the point in liking someone if nobody knows?

  “So, who do you like?” I asked.

  “Not them.” He was starting to look annoyed. “I gotta go.”

  “Then you do like someone? I knew it! All that time Cameron said you only liked me as a friend, I always wondered who you liked instead.”

  “Kaylin, just because I said I didn’t like you like that doesn’t mean it was because I liked someone else.”

  That was even worse—that he just didn’t like me. Like there was something wrong with me. Or a dozen somethings all over my face.

  “So you don’t like anyone?”

  “No, I do. Now. But I didn’t before when Cameron told you that.” I quickly tried to think of all the girls in our class and who I’d seen Sean talking to lately. But nobody came to mind.

  “So who is it?” After 20% of my life, didn’t I deserve to know?

  He moved closer to me and looked to make sure nobody was around. He was going to tell me! Maybe he wanted my crush to be over as much as I did.

  “It’s Courtney.”

  “Capriani?!”

  After she stole my trophy and trip to DC—now this!

  I slammed my locker shut and I really don’t remember what Sean or I said after that. I had heard enough.

  three

  “You told him!” Rachel sounded even more upset than I was. Maybe I should’ve called Jenna instead. She might’ve been more sympathetic, but she was still at the band banquet.

  “Don’t you realize? Courtney Capriani is ruining my life! Ahhhhh! I can’t believe he likes her. And now they’re going to be at Science Camp together!”

  “Kaylin, I didn’t even say for sure that I liked Sean. And I never would’ve told you if I thought you were going to tell him!”

  Now I had no choice but to tell her about the others. Then she’d understand that it was just too much for me to take.

  “It wasn’t just you,” I admitted. “Jenna likes him, too. And Maron! I know I shouldn’t have told him. But wouldn’t you have wanted to know if he liked you back?” Silence. “Are you there?” More silence. “Hello?”

  “I shouldn’t be talking to you. I can’t believe you betrayed my trust.”

  “But Rachel, you know how upset I was after the science fair. I saw him at the lockers. And we were just talking, and I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.” I really was. I always tried to be a good friend. And that’s what I needed right now to get through this.

  More silence.

  “Kaylin, we were all just messing with you.” Now I was the one with nothing to say. “It was just a joke to see if you still liked him because we all knew you did.”

  “Wait. You planned this? With Jenna?” It never crossed my mind they could’ve been kidding.

  “And Maron. Yes. But we didn’t think you’d actually tell Sean!!! We were just going to make you squirm until you admitted you liked him. And you must still like him or you wouldn’t have gotten so worked up over our joke.”

  She had a point. I probably did or I wouldn’t have cared about Courtney.

  “I’ll call him right now and tell him I was wrong.” It was all I could do, and he’d probably just laugh about the whole thing anyway. Typical Kaylin—saying things I shouldn’t.

  “You better,” Rachel said. “But that doesn’t take back the fact that now I can’t trust you. None of us can.”

  Jenna wasn’t as sympathetic as I had hoped when I talked to her that night after the band banquet. She said it was one thing to have a joke that stayed between friends, and another to blab a supposed secret to a guy your friend pretends to like.

  I saw her point. And that’s why I agreed that for the last day of school I’d wear the following words that she taped over her PIT PRIDE band pin:

  I HAVE A BIG MOUTH

  DO NOT TELL ME SECRETS

  At lunch Jenna, Rachel and Maron said they’d consider forgiving me, but that didn’t mean they could truly ever trust me.

  And that hurt.

  Enough that I went upstairs after school and cried.

  Alone, the way I’d spend the rest of my summer—when I had been looking forward to meeting tons of cool people at Science Camp. All because Courtney figured out which lotion gave her the best fake tan. Who cares?

  I did what Mrs. Diaz told us to do.

  I told the truth.

  That Clearagel didn’t work.

  I wish I had proved it did work. Then maybe I’d be getting on a plane with Sean, smiling about my smooth, even-toned skin.

  Instead of crying over my confluence of ugly.

  “Maybe it’s just the end of the school year blues,” my mom said over dinner. “One good beach day with your friends and I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

  Except they were barely speaking to me.

  “You loved the camp at the Wild Animal Park a few years ago,” my dad said.

  “That’s for kids—not teenagers!”

  “The Reuben H. Fleet has a science camp,” my mom suggested. “You love it there.”

  “It’s not just Science Camp. It’s everything. I look awful. I don’t even want to be around anyone. I hate science. Over fifty million people have acne and what has science been able to do about it? Nothing! I saw Dr. Oz on TV talking about how stem cells can be used to grow heart valves. Scientists figured out how to grow hearts and haven’t figured out how to cure acne? I seriously doubt that fifty million people need heart valves.”

  “Well, Grandma Jane did! I don’t appreciate your attitude, young lady.”

  But I couldn’t help it. It seemed like nobody cared. “There’s all these races to cure this-and-that, and celebrities raising money for all sorts of medical problems, but nobody ever talks about curing acne!”

  “Kaylin, that’s enough. You sound very selfish.” My mom set down her spoon making a loud clank against her plate. “Acne is not life-threatening.”

  “It is to me!” I shouted with all the pain that only someone who has had it this bad could possibly understand.

  “Maybe you need to spend some time in your room thinking about what it would be like to truly have a life-threatening disease. You need to be more grateful for what you have.”

  I never said they shouldn’t try to cure those other diseases. Sulking up the stairs, I thought who’s the “they” anyway—the disease curers?

  I used to want to be a doctor until my doctor couldn’t get rid of my acne. He said maybe when I was older I could take stronger medication. But why wasn’t there a cure for acne? What if there was a way to never get acne, like how Jonas Salk created a vaccine to prevent polio? That was the type of doctor I wanted to be—like Jonas Salk—a research scientist.

  When I was working on my science fair project, I read about the company that made Clearagel, Tomlin & Tomlin, and how their scientists did research to create new formulas. I guess none of those scientists had a teacher like Mrs. Diaz who told them that Science = Truth.

  Clearagel was a lie. Surely the company’s president, Charles Tomlin, must’ve known that. But I figured just in case he didn’t, I should tell him.

  I was fired-up after not getting to go to Science Camp. And my face was fired-up the worst it had been since I first started breaking out—plus I couldn’t even reorder my concealer. Rachel had been right. The email I got back from Tish Macelroy Customer Service said a new and improved formula would be available soon. But not soon enough!

  I punched the keys on my laptop looking for an email address or any way to send a message to Charles Tomlin. I knew it wasn’t his fault I felt the way I did, but he could’ve made my life a whole lot better if his products actually worked.

&
nbsp; Then it hit me.

  Maybe he didn’t actually want Clearagel to work.

  If it really worked. Like really, really worked . . . If there really was a cure, then people wouldn’t need to buy Clearagel anymore.

  I searched around the Internet for some sort of way to contact Charles Tomlin, but the only contact info I found was his son’s, Charlie Tomlin Jr.—the famed drum major for our school rival, Rancho Day.

  But that could work. I could just ask him to pass a message along to his dad.

  I realized that I might totally make a fool of myself. But, in the name of science, it would be worth it.

  NEW MESSAGE TO CHARLIE:

  You don’t know me, but could you please pass this message along to your dad? I suppose you can read it, too. You probably would no matter what I say. It would be a huge help to me and millions of other people if you could please give him this letter.

  Dear Mr. Tomlin,

  My science teacher Mrs. Diaz says that scientists should always tell the truth. I bought Clearagel hoping that everything in the commercial was true. For my science fair I was going to prove that it really was different than all those other products. I don’t know why I believed it would work since it had the same active ingredients as all those other products that haven’t cleared up my skin. I really wish you and your team of scientists would come up with something better. In the name of science, I just thought you should know that Clearagel is a lie.

  Yours Truly,

  Kaylin Bidwell

  A little while later my parents came upstairs to talk with me. I didn’t tell them about the letter. But we did talk about some other summer activities I could do instead of Science Camp—like tennis lessons, visiting my grandparents in Los Angeles or working through my book of do-it-at-home science experiments.