If you like him, you should tell him. That’s what I’d said to Natasha about Brian. And that’s what we kept telling Julia about Seth. Maybe it was about time I took my own advice. If my best friends could ask their crushes to the dance, I should be able to ask Aaron, too.
Sighing, I gazed at the fortune. Even if my secret admirer was ready to reveal himself, I just might beat him to it.
Chapter Five
I changed clothes about five times Monday morning before settling on a flared-sleeve top with a wavy turquoise pattern that Mom said brought out my eyes, white capris, and a blue headband. I knew I’d be paying for it later when I had to rearrange my whole week’s worth of outfits, but whatever. If today was the day my “secret admirer” would be revealed, well then, I was going to look good.
The fortune was rolled up neatly inside my front right pocket, but I kept pulling it out and reading it on my way to first-period English.
“What’s that?” Gabby asked around a mouthful of M&M’s (her typical breakfast).
“Nothing,” I said hastily, cramming the fortune back into my pocket and plopping down at my desk. “Hey, so you’re going to the winter dance with Max?”
Gabby picked out five yellow M&M’s and handed them to me. “Nope. He asked, but I said no.”
I winced, popping the candy into my mouth. “That must’ve been awkward.”
She shrugged. “Not really. We’re just friends—he lives on my street. He’s had a huge crush on Christine Pope forever, but she’s got a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” I said, but privately I was thinking saying no to a friend asking you for a date had to be even more awkward than turning down some guy you barely knew.
Having gym right before band so did not help my nerves. It’s hard to feel confident when you’re all sweaty and your hair has the kind of frizz that comes with doing sprints outside in humid weather. But when I got to the band hall early (and admittedly a little out of breath) and saw Aaron alone at his cubby, I told myself to get over it. No excuses.
Patting my hair down for the billionth time, I headed to my cubby and slid my case out. “Hi, Aaron!”
“Hey, Holly,” he said, closing the notebook Mr. Dante had given him. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the DVDs. “Here you go. Sorry it’s just the first two. My brother, um . . . borrowed the third one from me.”
Aaron’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, cool!” He flipped one of them over and read the back, then shot me a grin that made my legs feel like Jell-O. “Thanks, Holly. I’ll check them out this week.”
“You’re welcome.” My voice sounded a little higher than normal, but he didn’t seem to notice. I took my time getting out my horn while he read the back of the other DVD. More kids were trickling in now, including Julia and Natasha. I waved, and Julia glanced pointedly at Aaron and gave me a little thumbs-up. Stifling a giggle, I turned around and knelt down by my backpack.
Okay, here we go. I’d rehearsed this carefully in my head all night.
“So I brought this one, too, if you’re interested,” I said, straightening up and holding out another DVD. Aaron took it and scanned the title.
“Carrie . . . definitely heard of it, never seen it,” he said. “But I remember seeing the poster at that theater downtown that only shows old horror movies.”
“Horror Hall,” I said immediately. “That’s where I saw The Exorcist for the first time.”
Aaron gestured to the Carrie case. “Isn’t this the one where the girl goes nuts and burns down her school or something?”
“Yeah, she’s telekinetic,” I explained. “Everyone’s really horrible to her, so she gets revenge at the school dance by . . .”
I stopped, even though my brain was screaming Keep talking! Talk about the dance! But my voice would not cooperate. It was like my vocal cords were suddenly frozen or something.
“Actually, I think I’ve seen parts of this!” Aaron was examining the pictures on the back of the case. “Not the whole thing, though. I’ll check it out.” He flipped the case over to the front, which showed Carrie in her prom-queen crown, covered in pig’s blood. He grinned at me. Ugh, stupid weak knees. “Too bad we don’t have a Halloween dance, huh? This would be a killer costume.”
Somehow I managed to answer, despite the sudden buzzing in my ears. “Yeah. Well, I could dress like Carrie for the winter dance. Really freak everybody out.”
Aaron laughed, then glanced over my shoulder. “Hey, speaking of . . . can I ask you something?”
Oh my God.
Nod head. Use vocal cords. “Sure!” I squeaked.
“What’s that?”
Dazed, I watched as Liam took one of the Watch the Fog movies from Aaron. “Oh yeah, I heard this is awesome,” he said enthusiastically, glancing at the other DVDs. “These yours?”
“Nah, Holly’s letting me borrow them,” Aaron said. I smiled weakly at Liam, when really I wanted to say Seriously? Seriously, you had to walk up right when Aaron was about to—
The bell rang, cutting off my mental rant. I watched Aaron head into the band hall with Liam, disappointment settling in. Reaching into my front pocket, I touched the fortune and my stomach swooped.
So we’d been interrupted. That wasn’t important, really. I grabbed my horn, replaying the last few seconds of our conversation over and over again in my head until I was convinced I was right.
Aaron had been about to ask me to the dance. All I had to do was make sure he had another opportunity.
Trying to have a private conversation in middle school is totally impossible.
Despite my best efforts all week, by Thursday I still hadn’t gotten to talk to Aaron again. I mean, other than just saying hi in passing. He wasn’t in the band hall in the mornings, and the cubbies were always annoyingly crowded right before rehearsal.
But I wasn’t giving up hope. Thursday night was the first volleyball tournament, and I was going to do my best to talk to him then. That turned out to be easier said than done in a gym crowded with coaches, volleyball players, and cheering parents from two different schools.
I spotted Victoria, Natasha, and Liam in the parking lot, taking foil-covered platters and stacks of Tupperware out of the trunk of Mrs. Park’s car. Natasha waved me over.
“This is everything we made last night,” she told me. “It’s a zoo in there—there are two games going on, one in each gym. I think we’re going to split up to try to sell as much as we can during both games.”
It didn’t take long to realize that I wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Aaron, at least not until after the tournament. Just like Natasha said, half the band ended up in one gym and half in the other. And while I was in the auxiliary gym with Aaron, we were working at tables on opposite sides. I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy that Natasha happened to be over there with him, working side-by-side. It wasn’t her fault, though—a few of the band boosters had taken charge and assigned us all spots.
Owen and Victoria were at my table, though, so it wasn’t like I had no one to talk to. Not that we had much of a chance to talk. It was hard to hear with all the cheering and the squeaks of tennis shoes on the gym floor. Plus, the constant line at our table seemed to triple during breaks in the game. Twice Owen and I had to run back out to Mrs. Park’s car to bring in more desserts.
“This is fun, kind of,” I said, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes and struggling under the weight of four trays of cookies.
“Kind of,” Owen agreed, balancing a stack of brownie-filled containers. “Not as much fun as Prophets, though. I’m glad the next two tournaments aren’t on Thursdays.”
I nodded. “We’ll make up for it tomorrow after school. Alien marathon.”
Every time I had a few seconds to spare, I jotted down exactly what we sold in my own little notebook. The peanut butter co
okie sandwiches seemed to be the most popular, while the lemon bars were the least. I figured I’d let Aaron know which items sold the best so we could include more of them at the next two games.
“How much longer?” Victoria asked Mrs. Park when she came to check on us. She squinted at the scoreboard.
“Hard to say . . . There’s another match after this one, so at least an hour, I’d guess.”
“Look, guys, there’s no one in line,” I pointed out. “Let’s get the table filled up while we can.”
For a few minutes, no one spoke as we stacked and organized almost everything we had left to sell on the table. When we finished, Victoria wiped her brow.
“Maybe it would’ve been easier to just sell plants,” she muttered.
“Yeah, but we wouldn’t make nearly as much money,” said Gabe Fernandez, who was standing next to Max at the end of the table. He tapped the metal box we were keeping the cash in. “We’ve already made almost two hundred dollars, just at this table.”
“Wow,” I said, glancing around the gym. “I wonder how the other sections are doing.” The woodwinds had two tables in this gym and two in the other, just like we did, and the percussionists had one table in each. I glanced over at the other brass table, where Aaron was taking money from a little girl who was standing on tiptoes, choosing a cookie. She headed back up the bleachers, and Aaron turned and started talking to Natasha.
“Here comes Trevor,” Owen said. I tore my eyes away from Aaron and saw Trevor leaving their table and heading our way, keeping close to the walls.
“Do you guys have any of those brownies left?” he asked when he reached us. “We’re sold out.”
“Yeah, I think we have some under here.” I ducked down under the table and grabbed the last two containers of brownies. Overhead, I heard Gabe yell, “Look out!” and a few gasps from the crowd.
I straightened up just in time to see Trevor spin around. The game seemed to be on pause for a split second; the girls on both teams were all staring at our table. I barely had time to wonder why when the volleyball smacked a surprised Trevor square in the chest.
He staggered back, arms helicoptering at his sides in a way that almost would’ve been funny. Almost, except when he finally lost his balance and fell backward, he fell on our table. And that was not funny at all.
Everyone leaped back as the flimsy table legs gave out. With a loud crunch, the table collapsed with Trevor on top, sprawled flat on his back with a tray of smashed cookies sticking out from under his elbow and a halo of purple cupcake frosting around his head.
“Trevor!” I gasped. Everyone crowded around, squashing brownies and kicking trays aside, to help pull him up.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Dude, that was pretty wicked looking.”
“I’m fine,” Trevor mumbled, rubbing his shoulder and stumbling away from the wrecked table. His face was a dull red. Now that he was on his feet and surrounded by parents, the game resumed. I heard laughter coming from the bleachers and gave the group of eighth-graders pointing and snickering at Trevor my best death glare. Seriously? Grow up.
Mrs. Park and a few other parents led Trevor out of the gym, and the rest of us stared at the mess on the floor.
“Well, let’s clean this up,” Victoria decided. “Maybe if our other tables have extras, we can try to sell them.”
“I don’t know . . . Trevor said they were already out of brownies,” Gabe said glumly, leaning over to pick up the metal cash box and brushing off a smashed lemon bar. “We just lost a lot of money.”
I saw Aaron, Natasha, and the others looking at us from across the gym, and I could tell they were thinking the same thing.
It was going to be next to impossible to raise enough money to win now.
Chapter Six
“You look like you need these.”
Gabby shook a bag of M&M’s at me as soon as I walked into English on Friday morning. I reached out for a handful, but she dropped the whole thing into my hands.
“I brought two,” she said, showing me her own bag. “Sorry about what happened at the game last night.”
“Thanks.” I ripped it open and shoved a handful of candy into my mouth. The brass section had been the last to leave last night—it took a while to clean up the mess from Trevor’s accident. And I barely got to speak two words to Aaron the whole time.
“It’s going to be hard for us to catch up now,” I said. “Do you know how much the woodwinds made yesterday?”
Gabby shrugged. “Not exactly, but we sold everything we made at both tables. Sorry,” she added when I made a face.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just frustrated about . . . other stuff.”
Gabby paused with a handful of M&M’s in front of her mouth. “You mean Aaron stuff?”
Now it was my turn to shrug. “Yeah. It’s no big deal, though.”
“Totally.” For some reason, Gabby looked relieved. “I know you’ll find another date. Or hey—you can go stag, like me!”
I blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
She froze, then gave me the side-eye. “Um . . . nothing. What are you talking about?”
“Gabby!”
Sighing, Gabby leaned closer. “Okay, here’s the deal. I was talking to Sophie last night after the tournament, and she said she overheard Aaron talking to Liam. About the dance.”
At the sympathetic look on her face, I swallowed a few M&M’s whole. They slid down my throat like little pebbles. “And?”
“Well . . .” Gabby hesitated, then blurted it out fast. “Sophie said Liam said, ‘Did you ask her yet?’ and Aaron said he was about to but got interrupted. Or something like that. I mean, the point is . . .” She paused, chewing her lip. “It sounds like Aaron likes someone, and he’s going to ask her to the dance. I’m really, really sorry.”
I sat there, playing what she’d said on repeat in my head. A slow tingle started in my stomach. “Gabby, I think . . . I think it’s me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
My heart was hammering in my ears. “The other day before band I was talking to Aaron and I brought up the dance, and he said, ‘Can I ask you something?’ but then Liam interrupted us. Aaron was talking about me—he’s going to ask me to the dance!”
Gabby’s mouth fell open. “Awesome!” she cried, and several students turned to stare at us. I tried to hush her, but it was difficult when I couldn’t stop giggling.
Leaning back in her chair, Gabby beamed at me. “And this whole time I’ve been so worried about telling you that he liked someone! Although I’m kind of bummed you won’t be going without a date. We’d have fun.” Tilting her head, she poured the last few M&M’s into her mouth.
I grinned. “Yeah, that would definitely be fun. But hey, someone else might ask you.”
“Mike Andrews already has.”
“Oh!” I said. Mike was in computer lab with me and Julia. “That’s great!”
“I said no.” Catching the look on my face, Gabby laughed. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?” I exclaimed. “Why do you keep turning down dates with all these guys?”
“Because I don’t want a date at all,” Gabby replied matter-of-factly. “My cousin Elena is a senior, right? So last year this guy she liked asked her to prom, and she said yes. But that was, like, a month before prom. They hung out a few times and she said it turned out he was kind of annoying. By the time prom came along, she didn’t like him anymore, but they’d already bought the tickets and gotten a limo and all that.” Pulling out her notebook when Mr. Franks walked in, Gabby lowered her voice. “So the homecoming dance was a few weeks ago, and Elena just went with a group of girlfriends instead of a date. She said it was way more fun, because a bunch of guys went without dates, too, so she got to dance with a lot of them i
nstead of just one.” Gabby grinned. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
And it sort of did, actually. But there was only one boy I planned on dancing with at the winter dance. I turned to face the front as Mr. Franks started taking roll. Focusing on classes was going to be kind of hard today.
Aaron was already in his chair talking to a few other trumpet players by the time I got to band. And I didn’t get a chance to talk to him after class either, because he was too busy chatting with Liam and Gabe. It kind of bothered me. It’s not like I expected him to just ask me right in the middle of rehearsal or anything, but other than “Hey, Holly!” he didn’t say much to me at all.
If he wanted to ask me to the dance, why didn’t he just do it already?
At lunch, Julia filled us in on the fund-raiser results.
“Melanie told us we totaled over eight hundred dollars,” she said, unwrapping a package of cookies. “And I found out from Leah that the percussion section made almost six hundred dollars, but there’s only seven of them, so they’ve got a higher average per student than us. And you guys,” she added sympathetically.
“Wow, how did they make so much money?” I asked.
“They made caramel popcorn,” Natasha replied. “I went over to their table to see why their line was so long. Everyone loved it, plus it’s easy to make so they had a ton of it.”
They kept talking, but my eyes kept sliding over to Aaron’s table. He always ate with his football friends—the thought of going over there with all of those guys around terrified me. Nope, no way I’d ever be able to ask him to the dance during lunch. I glanced at him again, and my stomach flip-flopped when I saw him looking my direction.
All of a sudden, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I put down my sandwich, picked it up, put it down again, then flipped my hair over my shoulder and tried to look like I was listening to Julia. I kept myself turned so that I could see him out of the corner of my eye.
Friends, Fugues, and Fortune Cookies Page 4