Turn It Up

by Melanie Spring

  Emerald bounded up and rubbed against Devin’s ankles, purring. She reached down to pet the fluffy orange cat. “Hi, girl. Where’s Mom?”

  Emerald meowed loudly.

  Then Devin remembered: her mom had gone into work this morning to cover for another nurse who was on vacation. She would be coming home any minute now, wanting dinner—and probably exhausted, since she’d pulled a double shift yesterday and hadn’t returned until well past midnight.

  Devin wandered into the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and Emerald had knocked her food bowl over again. Devin cleaned it up, then loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. She put a pot of water on the stove and searched through the cupboards for something to boil. There was a box of penne, and a jar of pesto, which she could toss with the cooked pasta.

  Devin heard the front door open and close, and a jangling of keys. A minute later, Linda Isle walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey, honey.” Devin’s mother peeled off her Elmo scrubs, which she wore over a denim dress, and tossed them in the general direction of the washer. She worked in the pediatric intensive care unit—or PICU, as it was called—and her scrubs always had a kid-friendly theme. “Looks like you’ve started dinner—thanks.”

  “Penne with pesto. And I think there’s some spinach in the fridge that’s not too gross. I can make a salad,” Devin replied.

  “How can I say no to not-too-gross spinach?” her mom said with a chuckle. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a half-empty bottle of white wine. “Long day,” she said, pouring herself a glass and taking a sip. “We almost lost a patient, but I think he’s going to pull through. Brave little guy, he’s only six years old. He’s been fighting leukemia since he was three.”

  “That’s awful! I’m glad he’s doing better,” Devin said.

  Mrs. Isle sat down at the kitchen table. “How was your day? Cheer practice, right? And then you went over to your friend Emma’s house?”

  “Emily. We worked on the fashion show fund-raiser. Are you coming to that?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it! I switched shifts with my coworker Fran, so I’m all set.”

  “We made, like, a zillion posters to hang on the walls at school. Oh, and I have some flyers for you to pass out at the hospital.” Devin opened the box of penne and dumped it into the boiling water.

  “So are you going to be one of the runway models?” her mom asked.

  “Maybe. You know me. I’m not exactly into clothes. But Emily thought I’d be a good model for this one particular dress because of my hair color. It’s, like, this green velvety thing with ruffles at the top.” Devin gestured vaguely around her neck area.

  “Oooh, green velvet! Yes! You’ll look stunning in that!”

  Devin grinned. “I guess. Anyway, a bunch of us are modeling. Emily also had this crazy new idea. She thinks we should try to get a celebrity to be one of our models, to help increase ticket sales.”

  “A celebrity model? Yes, that would be nice—but how does she plan to pull that off? Is she friends with any celebrities?”

  “No. But you don’t know Emily. She’s totally relentless. She’ll pick up the phone and make five hundred calls if she has to, until she finds a celebrity who’ll say yes.”

  Mrs. Isle smiled. “I’m really looking forward to this fashion show. I only wish I could come to Nationals as well. I’d give anything to see you out there—and I know Sage would, too,” she said with a sigh.

  Devin’s older sister, Sage, was a legend in the cheerleading world. She’d taken her squad to Nationals when she was a senior at Spring Park High. She’d been featured in American Cheerleader magazine. And now she was a star on the UCLA cheer team.

  Mrs. Isle wasn’t just supportive of Devin being on the NHS JV cheer squad. She’d practically coerced Devin into it, scheming with her old friend Meg Steele to have “Sage’s little sister” join the JV without an official tryout. Devin used to do gymnastics back in Spring Park, and Coach Steele had been eager to get someone with her experience on the team. Fortunately, it had worked out for everyone. After a rough start, Devin had grown to enjoy being a cheerleader. And she liked to think that she was a strong asset to the others, especially in her role as cocaptain.

  Just then, Devin’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  She blinked in surprise. It was a text from Josh:

  Do u have a min to Skype? It’s important.

  Devin typed back:

  Sure, give me a sec. I’ll Skype u, okay?

  “It’s Josh,” Devin announced to her mother. “He says it’s important. Would it be okay if I, um—” She glanced in the direction of her room.

  “Sure, honey. Skype away. I can finish getting dinner on the table,” Mrs. Isle offered. “Pesto sauce, right? And a spinach salad?”

  “Yup. There’s dressing in the fridge. Thanks, Mom!”

  As Devin hurried to her room, she wondered what was up with Josh. They already had a Skype date set for tomorrow night. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait until then?

  She got to her desk and booted up her outdated laptop. A few minutes later, Josh’s image came to life on the screen. He sat on the edge of his bed strumming his guitar. He wore white board shorts, a tie-dyed T-shirt, and an orange-and-black San Francisco Giants cap. A hot-pink feather boa was draped around his neck.

  The boa made no sense. Neither did the baseball cap, since Josh hated organized sports. Neither did his room—which, from what Devin could see, was way cleaner than usual. His bed was made, and the floor was immaculate. Weird.

  Devin smiled and waved. “Hey, Josh.”

  “Hey there, Devin Isle! I really missed your smile!” Josh sang.

  Devin laughed. “You singing the Sunday night blues?”

  “I’ve got the Sunday night blues… and I can’t think of a word that rhymes with bluuues,” Josh sang. He stopped strumming and set his guitar down on the bed. “Lame. So how’s your Sunday going?”

  “Oh, you know. Practice was insane. It’s getting so close to Nationals, and everyone’s, like, totally on edge. Afterward, some of us went over to Emily’s to help prep for the fashion show.” Devin leaned forward. “So, um… what’s up? You said it was important. And what’s with the feather boa?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. I borrowed it from Josie,” Josh replied, referring to his three-year-old sister. “I have to bring in a bunch of props for English tomorrow. Mr. Ferguson’s making us break up into groups and act out scenes from this play called Blithe Spirit. I’m the medium.”

  “The medium what?”

  “You know… a medium. As in, psychic? Clairvoyant? Person who can look into the crystal ball and tell the future?”

  “Oh, that kind of medium.”

  “Yeah.” Josh unraveled the boa from his neck and let it flutter to the floor. “So…” He seemed to be struggling for words; Devin knew he was usually much more comfortable singing than speaking. “I’m not sure where to start,” he said finally.

  “Just spit it out,” Devin told him.

  “Okay. Here goes. I haven’t been the most awesome boyfriend to you lately. And it’s my fault,” Josh began.

  “What do you mean?” Devin said, surprised.

  “You’ve probably noticed that I’ve been kind of distracted, right? The thing is… I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

  Devin’s green eyes widened. Was Josh giving her the opening she needed to be able to come clean with him, too? “Really? Because I haven’t been completely honest with you, either,” she said nervously.

  “Okay, I want to hear your thing. But first, let me tell you my thing.” Josh paused and glanced away at some point beyond his computer screen. “We’ve been going through some stuff.”

  “Yeah, I agree.”

  “Huh? I’m talking about my family,” Josh said, confused.

  Devin startled. “Wait, what?”

  “Josie was diagnosed with something called Asperger’s synd
rome a few months ago,” Josh went on. “My parents were worried because she has a hard time talking and socializing with people. They’ve been dealing with a ton of doctors and therapists. It’s been kind of crazy around our house, and I’ve had a hard time focusing on anything else, including us. You and me. Our relationship.”

  “Omigosh!” Devin had expected Josh to break up with her. Or tell her that he’d met someone else. Anything but this news about his sweet little sister. “What can I do? I can talk to my mom. She knows a lot about children because of her work,” Devin offered.

  “That’s really nice of you, thanks. I think my parents have it covered, though. Just keep being my Devver, okay? And if I ever space out on an anniversary or forget to send you a Valentine’s Day card or whatever, just try to understand. It’ll get better, I promise.”

  Devin felt all the air go out of her chest. She was an awful, terrible girlfriend. All these months, Josh had been worrying about his sister. And here she was, moping because things didn’t “feel romantic” between them anymore.

  And flirting with other guys.

  Well, one other guy, anyway.

  “So what did you want to tell me about?” Josh asked her.

  Devin plastered on a big smile. “What? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all! Just… I know I’ve been distracted, too. With Nationals coming up and everything. I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best girlfriend to you, either.”

  “Get out of here, Devver. You’re the best girlfriend in the universe. In fact, I’ve been working on a new song about you. Here’s a little preview.…”

  Josh picked up his guitar and began singing again. He sang about Devin’s long, crazy red hair; the way she ate pizza slices backward (crust first); and the time they slow-danced outside in the rain. Listening, Devin felt like a total and complete jerk. What had she been thinking?

  Obviously, she hadn’t been. Thinking, that is.

  Emerald jumped in Devin’s lap and flopped onto her back. Devin stroked the cat’s soft belly, just the way she liked it. Then Devin made a promise to herself. From now on, she was going to be there for Josh. Totally, 100 percent, with all her heart and soul there. She would do whatever it took to get Mateo out of her system.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Davis! See you tomorrow, Chloe!”

  Kate waved good-bye as she walked through the front yard to her house. Mr. Davis had been nice enough to drive her home from Emily’s. Kate breathed in the cool night air, which was heavy with the fragrance of gardenias and other flowers. Her stepmother was a big gardener.

  When she opened the front door, she expected to hear the usual dinner-hour chaos. Her stepbrothers, Garrett and Jack (six and four, respectively), and her sister, Sasha, who was two, were always a handful, but they were especially wound up and prone to tantrums at this time of day.

  But there was no crying or screaming in the house. No video games or cartoons blaring on the TV.

  Kate proceeded into the family room. She stopped and stared in shock.

  Adam sat cross-legged on the carpet, reading a book to her three very attentive siblings. Garrett and Jack sat on either side of him, with Sasha scrunched up on his lap, cradling the new American Girl doll she’d gotten for Christmas. Their Australian shepherd, Scout, lay in front of the fireplace. He thumped his tail lazily when Kate came into the room.

  Adam glanced up from the book and waved to Kate. “Hi! I dropped by to see if you wanted to go out for pizza, and your parents invited me to dinner,” he announced.

  “Dad and Barbara invited you to dinner?” Kate said, dumbfounded. Her stepmom was “Barbara” sometimes and “Mom” at others. Kate was still trying to figure it out. In any case, she hadn’t noticed Adam’s beat-up red Volvo parked out front.

  “Aaaadam! Finish the stooory!” Jack demanded.

  “Story, story, story!” Sasha cried out, bouncing up and down on his lap.

  “Ow! So the clock started to strike midnight. Bong–bong–bong! Cinderella had been having so much fun doing the Harlem Shake with Prince Charming that she’d forgotten all about her promise to her fairy godmother.”

  Kate giggled. “Adam, are you changing the plot?”

  Adam put his finger on his lips. “Shhh. Anyway, so Cinderella tore out of there,” he continued, lowering his voice as his enraptured audience leaned in. “But one of her glass slippers went flying off. She didn’t have time to pick it up, though, because she was worried that her Humvee stretch limousine would turn back into a pumpkin.…”

  Kate grinned happily. Adam seemed to be doing just fine. She set her backpack down on the floor and went into the kitchen, breathing in the aroma of coconut and basmati rice. Yum.

  “Hey, Katie-bug.” Her father, Andrew MacDonald, pecked her on the cheek. “We asked your friend Adam to stay for dinner. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Well, of course it’s okay. I’m making my famous Thai chicken curry!” Kate’s stepmom piped in. She swept her bangs off her forehead as she continued stirring the curry on the stove. “How was practice today, sweetie? I picked up a couple more bags of Epsom salts at the pharmacy in case you need a nice hot bath later.”

  “That’s awesome, thanks!” Kate said gratefully. Coach Steele always advised the girls to take nightly baths to relieve their sore muscles. “Can I help with anything?”

  “You can set the table. Garrett, Jack, and Sasha already ate. But they can sit with us and have some fruit salad. They’re all madly in love with Adam.” Barbara glanced up and smiled warmly. “He seems very nice.”

  Kate blushed. “Yeah. He is.”

  “So… he’s two years older than you, right? How long have you known each other? Would you call him a good friend, or is he more like a—” Mr. MacDonald began.

  “Dad!” Kate cried out.

  “Andy!” Barbara said at the same time.

  Mr. MacDonald held up his hands and laughed. “Okay, okay. I won’t argue with the women of this house. I was just curious.”

  “Can we pleeease change the subject?” Kate begged.

  “Sure, honey. Hey, did I tell you about the new park we’re thinking of building down by the waterfront? We got a big grant.…”

  As her father talked about his job as a city planner, Kate began pulling forks, knives, and chopsticks out of the drawer. One, two, three grown-up place settings. Four, including Adam.

  Even though she didn’t want to talk about it with her dad, Kate was also wondering if she and Adam were just good friends… or something more. And she still didn’t know what was going on between him and Willow. But for tonight, none of that mattered. Adam was here, and her family liked him, and they were about to sit down and have dinner. Kate would talk about cheerleading practice and the fashion show and Nationals. Adam would tell funny stories about their English class. The little kids would throw grapes at one another as her dad and Barbara held hands under the table.

  Maybe fairy tales do come true, Kate thought in wonder.

  After dinner, Kate walked Adam outside so they could say good night.

  “I had a really great time tonight,” Adam told her. “Your dad and stepmom are awesome. Garrett, Jack, and Sasha are awesome, too. Look, Sasha even gave me a souvenir!” He held up his arms and displayed the dozen or so farm animal stickers that Sasha had placed all over them.

  Kate laughed. “That’s a huge compliment. Sasha’s on the sticker ratings system. One sticker means ‘you’re okay,’ two stickers is ‘you’re my friend,’ three stickers is ‘you’re my best friend,’ and so on. Which means that you’re way up there.”

  “Huh. So how many stickers would you give me, Kate?” Adam reached over and touched her face.

  Kate shrugged and smiled. “Oh… I don’t know. What do you think?” she joked.

  “A lot.” Adam’s hand curled around to the back of her neck. He pulled her in for a kiss.

  Kate’s heart raced. Her stomach felt fluttery. Time seemed to stop as Adam’s lips brushed ever so softly against hers
.

  Then, all of a sudden, the image of Willow flashed darkly through Kate’s head. Willow, with her long auburn hair and cool glasses and tight T-shirts. Willow, who acted like Adam belonged to her.

  Jealousy washed over Kate, and she turned abruptly and stared at the ground.

  “Hey. What is it?” Adam asked her.

  “Nothing,” Kate mumbled.

  “No, it’s not nothing. Tell me.”

  Kate bit her lip. “It’s Willow,” she admitted.

  Adam frowned. “Willow? What about her?”

  “Are the two of you… I mean, did you ever… I mean…” Kate stopped, flustered.

  “Are you asking if Willow and I ever went out?”

  Kate nodded mutely.

  “The answer is nein. Nyet. Non. That’s no in German, Russian, and French,” Adam replied. “I can keep going in other languages, if you want.”

  Kate glanced up. Hope flickered in her chest.

  “Seriously, though. Willow’s lived next door to me since forever,” Adam explained. “Her parents and my parents are good friends—you know, backyard barbecues, block parties, et cetera, et cetera. I know she’s not the easiest person in the world to deal with. I think it’s a defense-mechanism thing. But under all those layers of weirdness, she’s okay. She can even be nice sometimes.”

  Kate wrinkled her nose. “I can’t picture Willow being nice.”

  “Give her time. Besides, she’s not interested in me. I heard she’s got a big fat crush on Sebastian Smith, the guy on the tennis team,” Adam added.

  “Really?” Kate mulled this over.

  “Really. Anyway, do you feel better now?” Adam asked her.

  “A little.” Kate added, “She definitely doesn’t like me, though. None of your friends do. They think I’m a dumb cheerleader or whatever.”

  “I’m sorry they’re being such jerks,” Adam apologized. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “No, don’t! I just don’t want anyone to think I’m the difficult girlfriend who always complains,” Kate said quickly.