by Tiana Smith
Robyn was sitting right beside me, but I couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Honestly, I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal. So he asked me to homecoming, so what? Doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Except me!” Robyn unfolded her arms. “My business! The girl who I was going to match him with. Vince himself. Logan. Do you need me to go on?”
“No,” I muttered. “Look, I am sorry. I regretted it almost as soon as I sent the email. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“Yes, there is.” She fixed me with a solid stare. “You can email Vince back and fess up. Now.”
“Robyn, no.” I stood up, pleading with my hands. “Talk about mortifying. Seriously, if you thought I was embarrassed before, just think about how I would feel if Vince found out. He’d ask someone else to homecoming and everyone would know he’d rejected me.” If he dumped me now, after publicly asking me at the soccer game, I would be that pathetic girl in all the teen dance movies who gets a slushie dumped on her at the school dance because she was stupid enough to believe the popular guy would ever ask her out. I paused, scrambling for more reasons I couldn’t tell Vince. “Plus it really wouldn’t look good for your business,” I added.
“Oh really? Why is that?” She arched an eyebrow and gave me an obviously skeptical smile.
I didn’t know. I’d said it without thinking. But that seemed like my last lifeline, and I had to take it.
“Because…” I said, trying to buy time. Then the lightbulb turned on. “Because I’m sure Vince told a few people he only asked me because of your matchmaking business. He mentioned how impressed he was with his two friends, remember? So obviously they talk about that kind of thing. You know half the reason he’s going all in with me is because he trusts you. How would it look if word got out you’d made a mistake?”
“I didn’t,” Robyn said, but I kept talking.
“But on the other hand, how amazing would it be for your business if I go to homecoming with Vince and he has a great time? He’d recommend you to everyone, and the applications would come pouring in. Plus, correct me if I’m wrong, but he’s your first soccer player, right? You’ve been dying to tap into that market. If he says you’re great, you’ll get the whole team to line up, plus a lot of other athletes. You’d finally earn enough to buy a car.”
She was seriously considering my words. I could see it in the way she was staring off into the distance.
“You think you could pull that off?” she said. “I mean, you’re not really Vince’s type. You might have to pretend to be someone you’re not to make him stick around. It’s not like Vince is a bad guy; he’s just bad for you. And homecoming is two weeks away. I’m not sure you can last that long with him.”
Of course I could. We’d be perfect for each other if we gave it a chance. Sure, I’d had fun with Logan tonight, but one night of fun didn’t mean we were soul mates. Vince, on the other hand, was friends with my friends, which was a definite plus, and he looked like a Greek god. Maybe I didn’t know him all that well, but I’d seen enough of his personality to know we had potential.
“Definitely. It’s not like you claim to set people up for forever. So you just need to prove you were right in having him ask me to homecoming, and you’ll have so many people shoving money in your locker that you won’t be able to fit your books in there.”
“Not a selling point, Mia.”
I took a deep breath and sat back down on the bed, smoothing out my comforter like that could somehow settle the knots in my stomach.
“What I’m saying is, please don’t make me email Vince. I’ll make it work.”
“You’d better,” she said, frowning at her phone before putting it back in her pocket. Then she left, and I wondered how everything had gone so wrong so fast.
* * *
Vince called me the next evening.
“So,” I said as I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. I didn’t bother closing my bedroom door—my parents were at the symphony and wouldn’t be back until late. “How’d you get my number?”
Way to go, Mia—that sounded accusatory. I winced. Talking to boys was approximately one thousand times more stressful than anything else in existence. And that included coming up with perfect headlines and being forced to work with cocky journalism photographers who refused to send you generic pictures. Any minute now, I would probably spontaneously combust from the sheer pressure of it all.
“I asked Elena for it after the game,” he said. His husky voice made my heart beat erratically in my chest, and I sat down on my bed before I could do anything stupid, like trip on the math homework scattered all over my floor and fall out my window. Death by calculus. I couldn’t imagine a worse way to go.
“Ah,” I said. Yep, quite the conversationalist.
Vince talked about the game, and I chimed in whenever the moment warranted it. By the time he trailed off, I realized I didn’t really have anything to add to the conversation. Talking with Logan had been easy. So why was I struggling now?
“So,” he said, breaking the awkward silence, “I was thinking that maybe I could pick you up tomorrow.”
“Pick me up?”
“You know, for school? The place we’re forced to go five days a week, seven hours a day?”
“Well, I usually try to get there a little early,” I said, not wanting to admit just how big of a geek I really was. Sure, we were both overachievers in our different ways, but I had a feeling Vince wasn’t the do-journalism-work-before-homeroom type.
“That’s cool,” he said. “That gives me more time to be with you.”
Yeah, he was kind of missing the point. But still, he was sweet, right? I shouldn’t feel annoyed. Or cornered.
“Okay,” I conceded and gave him my address. It was silent on the other end except for the sound of a pencil scratching on paper.
“Got it,” he said. “You live on the same block as Elena, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “In fact, she’s coming over soon to study French, so I should probably go—”
But he wasn’t really listening to me.
“Have you ever been to one of her parties? I looked for you last night after the game.”
“Ummm…” The truth was that Elena always invited me to her parties, but I never went. Her crowd involved a lot of people who didn’t know I existed, and I didn’t want to be the loser in the corner talking to the wall. Would Vince have noticed me if I’d actually gone to one of her parties? Or had he only asked me out now because “Robyn” had told him to?
The unasked question left a stone in my stomach.
“It’s too bad she won’t have another one until after homecoming,” he said.
“Yeah, too bad.”
The conversation stalled for a bit.
I was saved from having to comment further when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, Elena’s here,” I told Vince. I picked up my French book and started making my way to the front door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he said.
“Yep,” I said as I swung open the door. Elena stood outside, her inky dark hair illuminated by the porch light.
“Say hi to Elena for me,” Vince said.
“Vince says hi,” I repeated, surprised by the scowl that overtook Elena’s features. Maybe they didn’t get along as well as I’d thought.
“Hi back,” she said, her voice clipped.
“Um … well, I gotta go, Vince. See you tomorrow morning.”
“Can’t wait.” The flutters came back, and I smiled.
We hung up, and Elena stepped inside.
“You okay?” I asked as she sat down at the kitchen table. She took her time in opening her bag and removing her French book before answering.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just remembering how crushed Vince looked after the game when he heard you’d left early. Where’d you go, anyway?”
“Huh,” I said, plopping down next to her. “Vince didn’t even mention it.” I hoped to bypass the
whole “Logan and the Pier” topic.
“Vince doesn’t always talk about the things that are bothering him,” she said. “If you two are going to be a thing, you should know that sometimes he can be kind of closed off.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Okay.”
“He’s my friend, and I want him to be happy, you know?” She paused. “Well, of course, you’re my friend, too. I mean, I want you both to be happy, so don’t blow it, okay?”
“Elena, he just asked me to homecoming. That doesn’t mean we’re dating.”
“Yet.”
Her comment gave me goose bumps. If he thought Robyn had matched us together … Some people really did jump into things quickly once they got her email, and I wondered if Vince would be that type of person. He said she’d done a great job with his friends, so the potential was there.
I placed my French book on the table, and together we turned to the chapter on subjunctive tense. Technically I didn’t need to study it. I’d already memorized everything from that chapter. Our study sessions usually evolved into me tutoring Elena so she could spend most of her time focusing on drama.
“How’d your auditions go?” I asked.
“Fine. Callbacks are next week.”
We studied for a while, and the whole time, she barely spoke a word that wasn’t related to the homework. Usually she gossiped about the soccer team or what outfit she had her eye on. Hollywood and movies were typically hot topics, but now she didn’t care about my latest Netflix binge or how many times her favorite celebrity had taken his shirt off in his newest movie.
After about half an hour of studying the subjunctive tense, someone rang the doorbell.
Logan was the last person I expected to see, especially standing next to another girl our age. A pretty girl.
“Here, you forgot this in my car last night,” he said, holding out the stuffed unicorn. I took it with shaking hands.
“Um, thanks.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, so I spoke first.
“Sorry, now’s not the best time. I’m studying with Elena.” Plus, he was with another girl.
Angling the door so Elena couldn’t see who I was talking to, I leaned on the doorframe. I shouldn’t have bothered.
“Is that Logan?” she asked, coming around the corner. He gave a small wave in acknowledgment. “And his little sister. Well, what a surprise.”
“Wait. She’s your sister?”
“Guilty,” she said, throwing a look at her brother. “Not by choice.”
He nudged her with his elbow.
“Yeah, well, she’s kind of annoying. Especially when she’s nagging me about the girl I keep talking about. But Sadie’s all I’ve got, so whatever. I guess she’ll have to do.”
Sadie spoke up. “You should have just told me it was Mia you’ve been talking about. I can’t believe you kept that from me.” She punched him on his shoulder, and he pretended to be hurt. “You didn’t tell me her name because you knew I’d know her from the announcements, didn’t you? Boys.”
She directed this last comment at Elena and me. I gave a halfhearted smile in response. Thank goodness my parents weren’t here to witness this awkward meeting. Then I’d have to explain why I looked like I was competing for an Olympic medal in blushing.
“You know, I had my suspicions after that whole pen thing,” Sadie said. “I’m so glad he finally got the nerve to ask you out. It’s been forever—”
“Oookay,” Logan interrupted. “Well, it’s been nice to chat, but we really ought to be going now.” He started pushing Sadie back to his car. She brushed him off, ran to the passenger side, and hopped in before Logan had even taken three steps. He turned back and gave me a crooked smile. “Unless you need any help studying.”
“French?” I asked, knowing full well Logan didn’t take it.
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, no can do. I’ll just let you…” He waved an arm in the air, motioning toward my kitchen and the books waiting for me there. “Well, bye. See you guys at school tomorrow.”
I closed the door before he could say anything else incriminating.
Behind the closed door, Elena gave me the look. I ignored her and moved back to the kitchen table, hiding behind my French book. I put the unicorn beside me, hoping she wouldn’t mention it.
For a long time, she didn’t say anything at all.
“You left the game to go on a date with Logan,” she said. It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t bother answering. If I thought she was being cold before, it was nothing like the frost coming off her now.
“So you and Logan are, what … together now?”
I shook my head and clasped my hands in my lap.
“That’s not exactly fair to Vince, you know—whatever this thing with Logan is. I mean, it’s not fair to Logan, either. You have two guys going after you, and you don’t even have the decency to cut one of them loose. I never took you as the player type.”
“I know,” I moaned, putting my head on the table and crossing my arms on top. “It’s a problem. But what should I do? I don’t even know if Logan or Vince are serious about me. And it’s not like I’m encouraging Logan. I’ve never had this happen before. Trust me, whatever I’m doing, it’s innocent.”
Her laugh was loud. “Oh, come on, Mia. I saw the way you looked at each other.” She slammed her book shut, grabbed her water bottle, and walked over to the sink to refill it. “You know, of all my friends, you were always the one who cared about other people the most. I guess that’s changed.”
Where had that come from? My head jerked up, and I felt the sting hit straight to my gut. For a moment, I didn’t have any words.
“It’s not like I’m trying to hurt them,” I finally said, keeping my eyes on the book in front of me. If I looked up, she’d probably see the tears pooling at the edges of my eyes, and I really didn’t want her to think any less of me than she apparently already did. “Logan only asked me out yesterday—the same time Vince asked me to homecoming. I’m working on it, okay?” Couldn’t she see I was in this situation because I was trying to be nice?
I shifted in my seat and flipped a page in my book. Elena came back to the table and sat across from me, rather than beside me, where she’d been sitting before. I wasn’t sure if that was intentional, but the space felt larger than a swimming pool. She glared at the stuffed unicorn like it had personally insulted her. We both studied our textbooks for five minutes before either of us spoke.
“Vous êtes une imbécile,” she said.
“That’s the formal ‘you,’” I said. “We’re friends, so it’d be ‘tu es.’” I paused. “Wait. Did you just call me an imbecile?”
She rolled her eyes.
“We’re studying French, Mia, not how to passive-aggressively insult your friends.”
Suddenly I wasn’t so sure.
eight
Whoever invented Mondays should be shot. Only one weekend had passed since the soccer game, but it was like my life was on fast-forward. Was this feeling of whiplash normal? I’d been keeping up with my ordinary routine, but nothing seemed ordinary anymore.
I dragged myself out of bed and did my best to tame my hair. Not that it helped much. With a sigh, I pulled it back into a messy topknot and pretended that was what I’d been going for all along. I found a shirt I’d borrowed—stolen—from Robyn and paired it with my favorite jeans before making my way downstairs.
My dad prowled around the kitchen, opening one cabinet after another, likely searching for something that wasn’t low-cal or fat-free. Maybe he held out hope that my mom hadn’t thrown everything away or that she’d overlooked some small shelf in her haste to get all the unhealthy food far, far away. I took a bran muffin from the basket on the counter and managed to take a bite without making a face. I had my hidden stash of the good stuff, but I wasn’t about to let my dad find it.
“I still don’t see why I have to suffer for your high cholesterol,” I said, slumping into a chair.
>
He claimed a banana and sat next to me at the table.
“Mmph,” he said in what could have passed for agreement.
He peeled his banana slowly and took a bite. “Your mother said something about homecoming?”
I swallowed while I thought about my answer.
“Yes, Vince asked me to homecoming,” I said. It was easier than saying I’d betrayed my best friend and hijacked her email to trick Vince into asking me out.
“You said yes?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a good kid?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
“Good,” he said, dropping the conversation.
I continued to chew my bran muffin. What would my dad say if he knew that was only the beginning? That Vince had asked me out because of a lie? Guilt took away my appetite, not that there was much of it to begin with. Appetite, that is. There was plenty of guilt to go around. Robyn said I had to make it work, so while I chewed, I came up with a game plan. I’d support Vince by going to every game. I’d figure out his likes and dislikes. I’d be A-plus girlfriend material.
Vince pulled into my driveway, and I said goodbye to my dad before he could ask any questions about the red sports car or the boy behind the wheel. I slid into the passenger seat and placed my bag at my feet.
The force of Vince’s gaze drew my eyes up to him. He was gorgeous, as always. His smile could have melted butter, and I instantly became a pile of hormones and butterflies. It reminded me why I’d emailed him in the first place.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey yourself. You look great.”
I raised a hand to my messy hair and tucked a stray piece behind my ear. “Thanks. You, uh, do, too.” Smooth. That was me.
We didn’t really talk for the rest of the drive, probably because I’d killed the mood with my awkwardness.
When we got out of the car, Vince put his hand on the small of my back. We reached the front doors and heads turned immediately. I saw a few people touch their cheeks while whispering with their friends, so I was sure my little pen act was still fresh in people’s minds. Even the teachers stopped to look, and that was saying something. I racked my brain for an excuse to escape Vince’s hand, because then maybe they wouldn’t talk. Maybe they had figured out the reason behind Vince asking me out. Was I making things worse by acting like a couple? Would people stop staring at me if I weren’t walking with the school’s golden boy?