Love, Love, Love

by Deborah Reber

  The person I really wanted to get advice from about what to do was Emmett, but communication between the two of us had become increasingly awkward in the past week. I tried to bring it up last night after our rant, but I didn’t get very far.

  “So, is everything okay, Emm?” I had asked him.

  “Yeah, why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem kinda … distracted or something.”

  “Distracted how?”

  “You know, you’re, like, distracted. I mean, you haven’t even asked me how things went with Julian on Friday night.”

  “Oh, I get it. I’m distracted because I don’t feel the need to know every detail about your double life.”

  Where is this hostility coming from? “No, I’m just saying it’s not like you, that’s all. Usually you want to know everything that’s going on with me.”

  “Sorry, Janna.” He sounded sincere. “I’ve been swamped trying to finish up the yearbook design. Don’t take it personally.”

  I accepted his excuse, but it was clear to me after that conversation that talk about Julian was off the table, even if it wasn’t explicitly stated. I hated that I couldn’t get his take on the whole situation, especially because it was a lot of what I was thinking about these days. It’s almost as if something fundamental in my relationship with Emmett had changed, and I wasn’t sure why. Was it just my charade? For now, I decided to take his word that things were okay and act like things were normal, even if it was without the usual intimacy.

  Since I wasn’t getting any guidance from Emmett, I had to rely on Molly when it came time to vote yea or nay on the rugby game. As it turned out, Molly didn’t actually feel the need to engage in a discussion about it at all. Our conversation went something like this:

  Me: I’m still not sure about whether or not I should go to Julian’s rugby game today.

  Molly: What do you mean you’re not sure? We’re going.

  Me: We are?

  Molly: Of course we’re going. I already told Spence we’d be there.

  Me: You did?

  Molly: Yeah, I thought I told you.

  Me: No, you didn’t. As far as I knew, I was still deciding.

  Molly: Well, now you don’t have to worry about deciding. I did it for you.

  I would get annoyed by Molly’s habit of making decisions for me without consulting me, except the choices she made on my behalf were usually ones I would have liked to have made but didn’t have the guts to. So, today, like every other day, I accepted the fate she handed down.

  “Why is it so important that we go to the rugby game?” I asked Molly after she’d told me the plan.

  “You know, it’s not all about you, Janna. After you told me about the game, I texted Spence and he said he was playing too. So I told him we’d be there to cheer them on.” She threw her hands up in the air and pumped them like she was holding giant pom-poms. “You know … Rah! Rah!”

  Of course. We were going to the rugby match so Molly could scope on Spence. The fact that it was actually Julian who had invited me and that I was risking certain ridicule if my cover got blown were just minor details.

  “What’s happening with Spence, anyway?” Unless she had forgotten to tell me (unlikely), she never did receive a call from him on Monday night. I knew she must be wondering if she was losing her touch.

  “I don’t know. That’s why we’re going today—so I can find out. I figure he’s just really busy with finals and everything. The end of the school year can be extremely stressful, you know.” Molly was obviously trying to convince herself that Spence’s aloofness had everything to do with being overscheduled and nothing to do with her.

  I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. When it came to guys, Molly liked being in control. She could write the handbook on the art of keeping guys waiting, wondering, and wanting more. So, I could only imagine her confusion at not knowing where she stood with Spence. And I could tell the way Spence was playing games with her just made her even more obsessed.

  As much as I empathized with Molly, though, if I was going to spend the afternoon as a member of a two-person cheering squad, she needed to help me figure out how to get through the rugby match with my faux identity intact. As soon as she realized I had been swayed, she launched into strategic planning mode.

  “Okay. Meet me after seventh period and we’ll drive to my house to get you ready.” She was speaking in the hushed tones of a spy operative.

  “But what about art?” Skipping out on class wasn’t really my thing.

  “Art schmart. Ms. Lenning won’t even know we aren’t there. She’ll be too busy inappropriately hitting on the boys in class.”

  Molly had a point.

  “Seriously. It’s not a big deal. It’s almost the end of the school year anyway. Everyone is so checked out at this place, we could get away with anything. Just be at my car by two fifteen. It will be fine,” she said.

  “All right.” I shook my finger in her direction like a parent lecturing a small child. “But we’d better not get caught!”

  “Sweetie, I’m not worried about it. And you shouldn’t be either. If someone says something to you, just say you have a doctor’s appointment. Trust me, no one’s going to give you a hard time.”

  Once again, Molly was right. I could have paraded around the parking lot buck naked for all the attention I received when I walked out the front door two hours later. Molly was already in her car by the time I got there, diligently typing out a text message. A second later she hit send and looked up at me. “Hi!” She checked out my outfit and reached over to pull my hair out of my signature ponytail.

  “Who were you texting?” I asked as she tried to style my hair. Apparently she’d forgotten that taming my waves was a losing battle.

  “I was just letting Spence know we’re coming. You know, so he can be all jocklike and testosterone-y and a macho show-off for me.” She grinned.

  “Do you seriously find testosterone-y attractive? Wait a minute. Is that even a word?”

  “Totally! There’s nothing better than having a guy show off for you. Which is why our being at the game is perfect. Julian and Spence will get to be all cool for us, and we’ll get to be all girly and supportive and doting for them. Everyone wins!”

  Hmmm. I definitely wasn’t into the girly-doting thing. Sometimes I thought Molly needed her own MTV reality dating show.

  “Why do you think Julian invited you in the first place? He’s just trying to impress you so you’ll like him more.”

  I wasn’t so sure I agreed with Molly’s explanation, but I did like the idea behind it. Because if Julian wanted me to like him, then that must mean he liked me.

  “Okay, so here’s the plan.” She continued messing with my hair. “You’re going to go to the match incognito.”

  “What do you mean incognito?”

  “You know, just imagine you’re like a celebrity who’s going out to a club and doesn’t want to be recognized. A pair of sunglasses, a cool hat, a little wardrobe change, and some makeup, and we’ll be all set,” she explained.

  “Sunglasses? That’s your grand plan?” Suddenly the nerves I’d managed to keep down since lunch started bubbling up again.

  “Well, what did you expect on such short notice? Look, it’s the best I can do. Besides—what are the chances that someone we know will even be there?”

  “They’re high enough,” I said. “And what happens if we do see someone we know?”

  “We’ll have to come up with a code word or something. Something one of us says to the other to let them know we have to leave immediately. But it has to sound inconspicuous.”

  “How about ‘The fat man walks alone?’” I suggested.

  “Yeah, that won’t raise any red flags.” Molly rolled her eyes. “How about: ‘I forgot to walk the dog!’”

  “But you don’t have a dog.”

  “I know I don’t have a dog. I know you don’t have a dog. But nobody else knows we don’t have a dog. Anyway,
we could always say we’re walking a neighbor’s dog who’s out of town or something.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, works for me. But just so we’re clear on the rules here: If we see anyone we know at the game—classmate, childhood friend, even the guy who works at 7-Eleven—we’re out of there. The second that one of us spots a familiar face, we’ll say, ‘I forgot to walk the dog!’ and the other person will immediately drop everything. Even if they’re in the middle of a make-out session or whatever. Right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Molly said.

  I gave her a look.

  “Yes! Right! Definitely!”

  That settled, I once again put my faith in Molly, and we headed off to her house to get into disguise.

  If you’ve never seen a rugby game, the best way to describe it is with this word: “carnage.” Rugby involves running, throwing a ball, and tackling with complete and utter abandon. Kind of like football, but with much less protective gear. I’ll be honest. Standing on the sidelines watching competitive sporting events wasn’t really my thing. At least, it hadn’t been my thing, up until now. Because now? I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Julian. And not just because I was worried he might suffer a catastrophic injury and be left for dead on the field.

  I’d only seen Julian three times before today (yes, I was counting). I wouldn’t say I knew him well, yet I definitely thought I had a sense of the kind of guy he was—mellow, cordial, laid-back. Rugby? Definitely not mellow and cordial and laid-back. Watching Julian tear around the field in his muddy black shorts, black socks, shin guards, and crimson rugby shirt felt strange and exciting. I kept looking at him and the scene around me and asking myself, How did I get here? Is this really my life? The fact that Julian visually acknowledged me as soon as we arrived and even winked at me once in between plays was even more otherworldly.

  I mean, seriously. How I went from Molly’s plain-Jane sidekick with absolutely no romantic prospects to the potential object of this beautiful boy’s attention in the span of two weeks was beyond me. No, I hadn’t forgotten the most probable reason for his attention was that he thought I was someone else altogether. To be honest, I was actually starting to feel like I was that someone else anytime I interacted with Julian, kind of like how telling the same lie over and over again can eventually cause you to believe it yourself. But who’s to say there wasn’t a tiny smidgen of the real me that he actually liked?

  As exciting as it was to watch the game, Molly’s and my role of devoted spectators was to be short-lived. Following Molly’s standard operating procedure, we had timed our arrival to correspond with the last few minutes of the game. This was both to ensure we didn’t come across as overeager, as well as to get the guys wondering where we were so they’d be extra happy to see us.

  Her plan just may have worked. As soon as the end-of-game whistle blew, Julian signaled he’d be right over. Which of course made my heart rate jump into high gear. I tried to stay relaxed while ignoring the stares we were getting from a group of girls standing near the bleachers. They were giving us that why-are-you-scamming-on-our-guys-go-back-to-your-own-school look.

  Luckily, Julian and Spence didn’t seem to notice or care, since they trotted over to us, lugging stuffed gym bags over their shoulders, as soon as the postgame huddle broke.

  “Hey, guys,” said Julian. “Glad you could make it!”

  “Hello!” we said simultaneously, causing us to start laughing.

  “What’d you think of the game?” Julian asked.

  “It vas good,” I replied. “You veddy good player!”

  “Thanks,” Julian said. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  You would have thought Spence was David Beckham by the way Molly put her hand on his arm and went into worship mode. “You were so great out there! And I can’t believe how fast you are!”

  Spence grunted something that sounded like thanks as he untwisted the cap on his VitaWater and downed the rest of the bottle.

  “So, what are you up to now?” Julian asked. “You gals want to grab a bite?”

  I could see Molly’s eyes light up, but I had no intention of going out right now. Swinging by the game was one thing. A full-fledged night on the town was another. I wasn’t mentally prepared to keep up appearances for the next three hours. If anything, I was just hoping to get out of this little excursion with my fake identity intact.

  “Sounds like a great—”

  “So soddy, we cannot!” I interjected.

  Molly turned to me, half smiling, half gritting her teeth. “We can’t? Why not?”

  I racked my brain for a good excuse that didn’t involve dog walking, since I needed to keep that one reserved for an actual emergency. “Remember? I must watch Henry tonight. My host parents have date.” For once, having a pain-in-the-ass little brother worked in my favor.

  Molly must have realized I wasn’t going to change my mind. “Oh, that’s right. But why don’t we go out this weekend?” Molly said to Spence, giving him her very best look, batted eyelashes and all.

  Whoa. Molly brought up another rendevous? Her modus operandi was to always let the guy do the asking, lest they decide you’re not worth the challenge of pursuing.

  When Spence didn’t respond right away, Julian jumped in.

  “We were just talking about that, right, Spence? I have a deejay gig on Friday, but how about Saturday? Are you guys free?”

  “It just so happens that we are,” Molly said. “Right, Janna?” She was trying to disguise her excitement by sounding übercasual.

  I nodded.

  “So, what should we do?” Molly asked.

  “Do they have bowling in Hungary?” Julian asked me.

  I acted confused, as if trying to remember the meaning of the word “bowling,” while my cheeks flushed once again, my body’s apparent response to the stress of possibly giving the wrong answer.

  “You know … bowling,” he said, pantomiming the act of picking up a heavy ball from the rack, slipping it over his fingers, and rolling it down an alley. “Ball. Pins. Lanes. Stinky shoes.”

  I laughed. “Ah yes, bowling. Yes, I know zis.”

  “Cool. Do you girls have ID? We could go to Attic in Capitol Hill … that way we could play pool, too, or do whatever,” Julian said.

  ID? The idea that I might ever need official documentation with my Hungarian name on it had never even crossed my mind. Of course, a fake ID wouldn’t necessarily have my real or Hungarian name on it anyway—just thinking about it made my head hurt. I knew I couldn’t handle the stress of keeping track of the identity details of three different people: myself, my Hungarian alter ego, and my fake-over-twenty-one-fake-Hungarian alter ego.

  “No, soddy. No fake ID,” I said. “We bowl somewhere else?”

  “No ID? That sucks. We could probably find one for you,” Spence suggested.

  Argh. Please just let it go, I silently willed.

  “That’s all right,” Julian said, as if sensing my stress. “We could go to West Seattle Bowl instead and then hang out in Alki or something.” He was referring to a hip, little beach community on a peninsula that juts out into Elliott Bay.

  I could tell by the expression on Spence’s face that he was less than enthusiastic. “West Seattle? But that’s—”

  “I have to walk the dog!!” Molly shouted.

  I froze, not daring to move, let alone breathe. I wasn’t sure who Molly had spotted or where they were, but I was quite sure she wouldn’t have used our exit line unless it was an urgent matter, since she was clearly enjoying basking in the glow of Spence’s glistening sweat.

  “What?” asked Spence.

  “Oh yes!” I said with urgency. “Za dog!”

  “What dog?” Julian asked in confusion.

  I looked at Molly. Her eyes were wide with panic. She subtly glanced over my shoulder, indicating someone familiar was behind us. I freaked. Who was it? Were they approaching us? Was this the beginning of the end?

  And then Molly proved that every penny s
pent on drama camps, improv workshops, and Broadway Bound was worth it.

  “Her name’s Sadie. I’m watching her for my neighbors while they’re out of town,” she said in a rush. She pulled out her cell phone and reacted with horror when she saw the time. “Oh no! She has diabetes! The dog, I mean. I have to give her an insulin shot every day at four thirty or she could die!”

  Where does she come up with this stuff?

  “Oh! Vee must go!” I said. I lowered my hat and peeked up at Julian. “Vee see you Saturday?”

  “Uh, yeah … I’ll text you the deets.” He seemed to be flustered by our rushed exit.

  “Okay, sweetie, we gotta go!” Molly sharply yanked me away by the hand. “Bye, guys … see you Saturday!” And then we bolted, heading off in the opposite direction of whoever it was she had recognized.

  “Janna? Molly? The parking lot’s that way!” Julian shouted. He was pointing behind him and looking awfully confused.

  “Oh yes, we know! We just have to … get something …” Molly turned and faked a smile. I held on to Molly for dear life as our fast walk turned into a light jog. We circumvented the entire field before hitting the parking lot. I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally reached the safety of her car. Though it was dirty, dented, and frequently stalled, I’d never been so happy to see her little VW in my whole life.

  “What happened? Who did you see?” I panted, finally breaking my silence.

  “Winona Ellis! She was coming right toward us! I totally forgot she went to Collins.”

  “Winona who?”

  “You know, Winona Ellis. From my old dance class?”

  “No, actually, I don’t know Winona Ellis. And Winona Ellis doesn’t know me! Damn, you scared the crap out of me!” I was more than a little annoyed at the unnecessary wringer Molly had just put me through.

  “Well, sorry. I just saw her and panicked,” Molly said defensively. “Geez. Take it easy, Miss Paprika. I was just trying to protect you.”

  “Sorry. I just got so freaked out.” I closed my eyes and rested my head on the cool glass of the passenger window. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”