Friends, Fugues, and Fortune Cookies

by Michelle Schusterman

  “Um . . .” Startled, I glanced down at the table. “The brownies! Cream cheese and chocolate—they’re so good.”

  “I’ll take two,” he said, handing me a few dollars. My face grew warm at the way he smiled at me, and I ducked my head to dig out a few coins from the box. Pull it together, I told myself.

  “So are you from Forest Hill?” I asked, dropping the quarters in his hand.

  “Yeah, my mom’s the volleyball coach,” he said. “This looks like a better fund-raiser than what our band’s doing—we’re selling scented candles. I’ve still got three boxes in my room. It smells like someone blew up a perfume store in there.”

  Natasha and I giggled. “So you’re in band, too?” I asked. “What do you—?”

  “Excuse me.”

  The three of us glanced over at two high-school girls standing behind the boy, arms crossed impatiently. The boy shrugged and smiled at me.

  “See you later.”

  “Bye,” I said, trying not to give the older girls dirty looks as they picked out their cupcakes. When they left, Natasha stuck her tongue out at their backs.

  “He was really cute,” she said in a low voice, nudging me with her elbow. On her other side, Aaron was deep in conversation with Gabe.

  “Yeah, he was,” I replied with a grin, hoping she hadn’t noticed my eyes flicker in her boyfriend’s direction. Or her almost-boyfriend. Her date. Whatever Aaron was.

  But something else was occupying Natasha’s attention. “Look!” she exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and turning me around. My eyes widened when I saw Seth at the front of the line at the woodwind table, chatting with Julia.

  “Wow, she wasn’t lying—they actually are capable of having a real conversation,” I said, and Natasha snickered. Even from here, I could tell Seth was blushing a little bit. Julia was nervous, too—she kept messing with the barrette holding the black curls away from her face. She was smiling, though.

  “They’re so cute!” Natasha said happily, and I had to agree. I opened my mouth to say so when I got a whiff of familiar cologne.

  “Hey, we’ve got a lull in the line,” said Aaron. My eyes went straight to his hand, which was touching the top of Natasha’s arm. “I’m going to run over to the other gym and see what they’ve got left, okay?”

  “Sure!” Natasha squeaked. I just nodded and turned my attention to rearranging the cupcakes that were left. Natasha started doing the same with the cookies. There was a weird silence between us, like we were right on the verge of talking. Neither of us said a word, though.

  “Hey!”

  Both Natasha and I jumped at the sound of Julia’s voice.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Julia waved a handful of bills. “We’re low on fives—can we swap a few tens with you guys?”

  “Sure,” said Natasha, holding her hand out. “I’ll ask Gabe.”

  Once she was out of earshot, I poked Julia in the side. “We saw Seth holding up the line to talk to you,” I said teasingly.

  Julia smiled. “He’s bought, like, eight cookies so far tonight,” she admitted, and I laughed.

  “So are you going to find him after the game?” I asked, scanning the bleachers until I found Seth. “I’m still holding you to our pact—and I don’t know if you noticed, but Thanksgiving was kind of last week.”

  Glancing over her shoulder at him, Julia leaned closer to me. “Actually, he offered to stay after and help us clean up and stuff.”

  “Are you going to ask him to the dance?” I asked excitedly.

  Natasha returned with a stack of fives, which she handed to Julia with a huge smile. “Who, Seth?”

  “I don’t know . . . okay, maybe I will.” Julia gave us a mock stern look. “So you two please stay over here.”

  “What?” I cried. “Why?”

  “Yeah, do you think we’re going to embarrass you or something?” Natasha added.

  Julia just grinned and shook her head. “Oh no, of course not.”

  After she left, Natasha and I went back to rearranging the table and chatting away without any of the awkwardness from earlier. I knew, though, that the second Aaron got back things would shift again. It seemed like that’s how things were going to be with me and Natasha. Totally normal except for when Aaron was in the picture. The problem with that was if they really did start dating, he was going to be in the picture a lot more often.

  “Nope.”

  Julia answered my unasked question the second I got to her locker Thursday morning. My mouth fell open.

  “No, like he said no? Or no, you didn’t ask him?”

  “I didn’t ask him.” Julia sighed, twirling her combination. “He helped me carry a bunch of stuff out to Sophie’s dad’s car, but there were a ton of people around and then his parents and sister came out and he had to leave. But,” she added, “I’m still going to do it, Holly. Today in PE, I swear.”

  So when the bell for fourth period rang, I hurried to the band hall. Natasha and I stood in front of Julia’s cubby until the very last second, but she never showed up.

  “Where is she?” Natasha whispered as we took our seats. Mr. Dante stepped onto the podium and started taking roll.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Nothing happened first period?” Natasha and Julia had history together. Seth was in their class, too, and he and Julia had PE during second.

  “No, nothing,” Natasha replied. “They walked to gym together, though.”

  Then Mr. Dante started our warm-ups, and we couldn’t speculate on Julia’s absence anymore. But ten minutes into class, the door opened and she walked in.

  I stared as Julia handed Mr. Dante a yellow slip of paper. “She’s limping!” I said softly, and Natasha nodded. But when Julia sat down and noticed the two of us looking at her expectantly, she just grinned and shook her head. I’ll tell you later.

  After band, I helped Julia through the crowded halls while Natasha carried her stuff. The second the three of us sat down at our usual cafeteria table, Natasha put her hand on Julia’s lunch bag to stop her from opening it. “No eating until you tell us what happened with Seth,” she ordered, and Julia laughed.

  “Okay.” She glanced around the cafeteria. “But we’ve got to be quiet because he’s right over there and I don’t want him to think I’m making fun of him.”

  I looked over at Seth, three tables away. “Why would he think that?”

  Julia pressed her lips together tightly, like she was trying not to laugh again. “So here’s what happened. After Coach Hoffman told us to put everything up and go change, I went over to talk to Seth. He was telling me about something that happened in orchestra—I can’t even remember what, I was just trying to figure out how to bring the dance up—and then, I don’t know, I just kind of . . . blurted it out. I mean, I asked him.”

  Natasha bounced in her chair, and I beamed at Julia. “And?”

  Julia ducked her head, her hand over her mouth. “Well,” she said through barely suppressed giggles, “I probably should’ve mentioned that we were putting away the weights.”

  It took a few seconds for realization to dawn. My mouth dropped, and Natasha’s eyes widened.

  “Did he . . .”

  “I guess I kind of caught him off guard,” Julia said. “So, yeah. He dropped a ten-pound weight on my foot. I said be quiet!” she added frantically as Natasha and I cracked up.

  “Wait, wait,” I said, struggling to make my voice sound normal. “He said yes, right? About the dance?”

  “Yup!”

  “After he almost broke your foot?”

  “Yes,” Julia said, rolling her eyes.

  Natasha gave me a sidelong glance. “But . . . will you be able to dance?” she asked, and we dissolved into laughter again.

  “Stop, you guys!” But Julia was giggling, too. “It’s fine—it’s just
a bruise. And he feels really bad.”

  I thought about all my awkward moments with Aaron. But I’d never done anything as embarrassing as nearly breaking his foot. Just imagining it gave me a rush of sympathy for Seth. Not enough to stop laughing about it, though.

  “This is so great!” Natasha said, unwrapping her sandwich and taking out a plastic knife and fork. “Can you believe the dance is next week?”

  “I know!” Julia said excitedly. And then they both looked at me simultaneously, smiles gone, like the same thought had just occurred to them. Which it probably had, because I was thinking it, too. The only one without a date.

  I shrugged, peeling my orange. “It’s okay, guys. I’m going, and I’ll have fun. Gabby doesn’t have a date, either.”

  Julia looked relieved. “Yeah, it’ll be great whether or not you have a date. Although, I mean, you could still ask someone. Or someone could still ask you!”

  “I guess,” I said, popping a piece of orange into my mouth. “I kind of wish I’d just said yes to Owen.”

  As soon as I said it, I shut my mouth. Too late, though. Natasha looked at me in surprise.

  “Owen asked you to the dance?”

  Julia and I shared a quick, panicked look. For the love—why had I said that out loud? I’d never told Natasha about Owen asking me, because that would involve explaining why I’d said no.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Just as friends, I mean.”

  “Aww!” Natasha exclaimed. “That’s so cute!”

  Julia grinned. “That’s what I said.”

  “So why—”

  “But, anyway, I think I’d rather just go alone,” I said quickly, picking at my orange. “Gabby made it sound fun.” I shot Julia a pleading glance.

  “Totally,” she said immediately. “I bet a bunch of guys will be going without dates, too. Hey, do either of you have any shoes I could borrow? I thought my white flats would go with that dress I got, but it looks kind of blah.”

  “Yes, I have the perfect pair,” Natasha replied, and she launched into a detailed description. I smiled gratefully at Julia. That was a close one. The last thing I wanted to do was tell Natasha—or anyone—about how sure I’d been that Aaron liked me.

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  That weekend, Mom took me to the mall and I found a dress at Milanie’s—powder blue and shimmery, with this cool black lace over the skirt. But at the shoe store, I tried on, like, a hundred pairs and none of them looked right. I stood in front of the mirror in a light blue pair with short heels and black roses over the toes, holding the dress up in front of me.

  “No.”

  I kicked them off, and Mom groaned, banging her head on the shelf she was leaning against.

  “Holly, those were perfect.”

  “That’s what you say about every pair,” I said, putting the heels back in their box.

  “Because they all look good,” she retorted. “Are we going to have to go to another shoe store? I’m pretty sure you’ve tried on every pair here.”

  “Ha-ha.” Hands on my hips, I scanned the shelves. Actually, I had tried on most of the dressier shoes. My eyes fell on something chunky and shiny in the corner.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mom watched as I picked up the pair of silvery combat boots and plopped down on the stool. “We’re only here to get shoes for the dance, not to—”

  “That’s what I’m doing!” I said, hopping up and walking—okay, stomping—to the mirror. The boots were heavy, in a nice way. They kind of made me feel like my Prophets character. Holding the dress in front of me, I grinned at my reflection. “Ready to kick some alien butt.”

  Mom looked like she feared for my sanity. “Huh?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, spinning around. “Can I get these?”

  “For the dance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes!”

  It was kind of dumb, but thinking about the boots made me feel better about going to the dance alone. Like they were some sort of armor, or something. But even so, by Thursday I was starting to dread the whole thing all over again. Maybe because despite her attempt to hide it, Natasha was obviously excited about her first date with Aaron—she’d get so flustered and giggly every time he flirted with her. Or maybe it was because Julia was acting the same way about going out with Seth. I knew they were trying to play it down so they wouldn’t hurt my feelings, which was nice, but it just made me feel defensive. Despite my “going to the dance alone is cool” attitude, I couldn’t help feeling envious of them both.

  And then there was Owen, who was just as nice as always all week, but still said nothing about hanging out after school. What I really wanted to do was just ask him if he still wanted to go with me. But now I was too afraid that would only make things weirder between us.

  So I didn’t say anything to him, either. About Prophets or the concert programs, which I’d started working on by myself. They looked . . . really, really not good.

  Friday morning, I got to English, slouched down in my chair, and opened one of the fortune cookies I’d grabbed from the kitchen. Boots or no boots, I did not want to go to the dance.

  “Bad morning for you, too, huh?” Gabby sat next to me and sighed. “The stupid vending machine gave me Skittles this morning.” She popped a few into her mouth and made a face.

  “If you don’t like them, why are you eating them?”

  “I like them, they’re just not appropriate,” Gabby replied. “Breakfast equals chocolate.”

  I laughed despite myself, unfolding the little slip of paper. DON’T AGONIZE—ORGANIZE! Overall, a pretty good life motto. I tucked it into my pocket.

  “So what time are you getting to the dance tonight?”

  “A bunch of us are meeting at my house at seven thirty,” she said. “My mom’s taking us. Hey, want to come?”

  The idea of walking into the gym with a group of girls was infinitely more appealing than walking in alone. Still . . .

  “What?” Gabby said, squinting at me. “Hey, you’re still going, right?”

  I shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Holly!” she cried. “I’m not letting you sit around all night moping about . . . him,” she added in a lower voice, when I gave her a pointed look. “I know it’s weird that he’s going with Natasha, but—”

  “But I need to get over it.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “Okay, right, I’m going. Seven thirty?”

  At 7:28, Mom pulled up to Gabby’s house and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Have a great time!” she said. “I’ll be parked outside the gym at ten thirty.”

  “Thanks, Mom!” I slid out of the car, shut the door, and clunked up the sidewalk. (Actually, I was already getting used to the weight of the combat boots. Although dancing in them was going to be interesting.)

  “Hey, Holly!” Gabby beamed. “Come in, we’ve got—nice!” she cried, interrupting herself and staring at my boots. I grinned, wiggling one of my feet in the air.

  “You like them?”

  “They’re awesome!” she exclaimed.

  “Thanks!” I stepped closer to inspect her hair. “Wow, how’d you do this?”

  Gabby’s black hair was streaked with dark red, and all of its waviness was gone—it was half-pulled back and stick-straight.

  “Victoria did it!” she said cheerfully, pulling me down the hall. “Everyone’s back here.”

  Gabby’s mom’s bathroom was warm and crowded. Victoria waved to me in the mirror; she was busy taking curlers out of the blond hair of a girl I vaguely recognized from my math class last year. Next to them, two more girls were applying makeup. Leah was sitting on the closed toilet, painting her toenails with her foot propped up on the bathtub.

&nb
sp; “Hi, Leah,” I said, sitting gingerly on the edge of the tub. She glanced up in surprise.

  “Holly!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming. Oh, wow, those are so cool!”

  She pointed to my boots, and I smiled. “Thanks!”

  We talked a little as Leah finished her toes and used a blow dryer to dry them. After a few minutes, Gabby’s mom walked in with a huge bowl of popcorn, and Gabby pressed her hand to her heart like she was in shock.

  “Popcorn?” she cried when her mom left, staring into the bowl. “Oh—it’s that air-popped stuff. And no butter. Gross.” But she ate half the bowl, anyway.

  It was hard to dread the dance with everyone so excited and talkative. By the time we were all piling into Gabby’s mom’s van, I was really looking forward to it for the first time in weeks.

  The gym actually looked pretty cool, considering it was . . . well, the gym. Shiny streamers were strung up along the walls, mini disco balls and giant sparkly snowflakes hung from the rafters, a DJ was already set up on the opposite side from the entrance, and several huge lights with color filters were fixed in all corners, making the whole place flash blue and white.

  “Wow,” I said, making a mental note to tell Brooke what a great job the student council had done.

  “Yeah, not bad!” Gabby exclaimed. “Where’s the food?”

  We headed over to a long table covered with snack food and bowls of punch. While Gabby and the others talked and ate, I scanned the gym for Julia or Natasha, with no luck. It was already pretty crowded, though, and more people were coming through the entrance. I glanced over and was startled when Owen walked in. It didn’t look like he had a date, either, which made me feel a weird combination of guilty and relieved.

  The music got louder and the gym got darker very gradually, until after twenty minutes, trying to have a conversation was kind of pointless. The dance floor was pretty crowded, and Gabby was starting to look antsy.

  “All right,” she announced, stepping forward. “Let’s see, who’s the lucky guy . . .” Victoria, Leah, and I laughed as she made a show of looking around. “Mike!” she called, waving. “See you guys out there,” Gabby said to us with a grin before walking over to where Mike Andrews stood with a few other guys. After a few seconds, she led him out onto the dance floor.