Romeo & What's Her Name

by Shani Petroff

  I was so flustered that I ran toward my house. WITHOUT MY BIKE. I had left Wes standing there holding it. I only realized it when I got to my door, so I had to run all the way back. “Ha-ha,” I said, taking my bike from him. “Almost forgot this. Wouldn’t want to do that. Well, thanks again. Have fun getting home. You know what I mean.” He probably didn’t, but that was okay. Because I was fairly confident that Wes liked me. Liked me liked me. Babbling and all.

  18

  I felt like Snow White as I danced around the kitchen making the mac and cheese. I was practically floating I was so happy. I had found my prince. I couldn’t wait to look into those amazing eyes again. And I didn’t have to! I had social media.

  I ran upstairs, got comfy on my bed, popped open my computer, and went onto his GroupIt page. I loved his profile picture. It was one of him midlaugh. He had that perfect, makes-you-smile-when-you-hear-it laugh, too. He really was amazing. I could spend all day just looking at his photos. There were a lot, too. A whole page of Wes. Thank you, Internet.

  So many people posted pictures and videos from the other day to his page. I clicked on a clip of Wes trying to catch me during our Shakespeare scene. He managed to look good even under crazy circumstances. And how sweet was he, trying to make sure I didn’t fall? I hoped I didn’t hurt him. He didn’t look as if he was in pain. I couldn’t help but watch the video loop over and over and over again. We actually looked pretty cute together.

  But not all of the new tagged photos included me. There was, uck, one with Amanda at the hospital. I guess I had no right to be upset that he went to visit her, but I didn’t have to like it. Or the fact that they looked happy. Too happy. And the picture had 149 likes and thirty-five comments. Most of them saying how great they looked.

  None of that matters, Emily. Wes likes you. He almost kissed you!!! I chose to ignore the Amanda photo and clicked over to some older, less offensive ones. Wes looked good in every single picture. I don’t think he knew how to take a bad photo. That could have had something to do with his being the best-looking guy at Shaker Heights High. Sure, Amanda’s ex, Cody, was close. He was that whole Abercrombie & Fitch generic hot, but there was just something about Wes.

  I clicked on an album from his family’s trip to Disney World. It was him, his parents, and his brother, and they were all wearing Mickey Mouse ears. They looked goofy and fun. And totally adorable. I tapped over to his brother’s page. I’d seen all of Wes’s pics before, maybe his brother would have some hidden gems.

  Neal had the same eyes as Wes. It was nice seeing them together. I kept clicking through his albums. There was one of them celebrating their dad’s birthday. Another with their dog in the park. Some of Neal alone on a bike path. I wondered if Wes took those photos.

  My computer froze as I tried to move to the next picture. “Come on,” I whispered to the screen and started tapping my mouse like a madwoman. I hated when this happened. Instead of a car, I probably needed a new laptop. I hit the power button. And as it asked me if I was sure I wanted to power off, my Internet started running again, so I hit no. A bunch of screens raced past. All that clicking I had done was going through. It was as if GroupIt had a mind of its own. Pictures of Neal at a race, playing chess, and doing who knows what were moving at warp speed. I tried to stop it. I tried to go to my profile page. But it wasn’t listening to my commands. Instead, crazy things started happening. Do you want to tag Emily Stein in this photo? popped up. NO! I did NOT want to tag myself in one of Wes’s brother’s photos. What had I hit? I tried to click no, I tried to stop it, but the screen just passed me by. Why wouldn’t it go back? Why wasn’t it working? Did it do it? Did it tag me? Why wouldn’t the stupid machine behave? I powered it off and grabbed my phone.

  My heart was racing as I logged on to Neal’s GroupIt page. It’s going to be fine. Nothing happened. You didn’t tag yourself. Yet my reassurances weren’t calming me down. I still had that nagging feeling as I clicked through his photos. So far, so good. There was no sign of me yet. My breathing was returning to normal. Then it happened. A new notification message popped up. Neal Rosenthal commented on a photo you are tagged in.

  I closed my eyes. Maybe this was a dream. A bad nightmare that I’d wake up from. But when I looked back at my phone, I knew that wasn’t the case. This was really happening. The notification would take me straight to the picture, but did I really want to see it? My finger shook as I decided whether to press the screen.

  I didn’t want to, but I had to know for sure.

  I went for it.

  No, no, no, no, no, no, nooooooooooo. I threw my phone down on the bed.

  It was worse than I could have imagined.

  I stared at the spot where the phone had landed. It was like a nuclear bomb that was ready to blow up my life. The picture I had tagged myself in wasn’t just a regular picture of Neal. (Of course not. Why would my life be that easy?) Instead, it was a picture of Neal holding his hands in a heart shape. A picture that now had my name smack on top of it.

  19

  I got my mom to give me a ride to school the next morning. I had to get there early to see Wes. I needed to explain about the picture. He’d understand once I told him the story. He had to. He knew I was prone to doing stupid things. But what if he thought it was weird I was looking at his brother’s GroupIt page? I really topped myself this time. It was one thing to overcome the Shakespeare scene from hell, but tagging yourself in your crush’s brother’s picture? That was a whole other ballpark. It was like announcing to the world that I had been spying on him. As if I was some cyberstalker. Just relax, I told myself. It was going to be fine. Wes wasn’t going to care. At least I hoped not.

  Only, I didn’t get a chance to find out. Wes didn’t show up at his locker. Ever since he started driving, it was about fifty-fifty whether he made it to school on time. I would have to try back again before I went to study hall. He usually dropped off his stuff then. Yeah, okay, I may have memorized his schedule. So much for avoiding stalker status.

  When I went back later, he was there, as suspected. But he wasn’t alone. His brother was with him. I definitely wasn’t approaching Wes with Neal standing there—not to talk about the photo. I had to wait for him to leave. So I stayed hidden around the corner. I couldn’t help but spy.

  “Someone called you what?” Wes asked. “Who was it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Neal said. He looked upset. They both did.

  “It matters to me.” I had never seen Wes look so intense.

  “Forget I said anything.”

  “I’m not going to forget it.” Wes put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “If anyone gives you a hard time, you come to me, you hear me? And I know you keep saying you don’t want to sit with me at lunch, but I don’t care. Enough with spending the period in the computer lab. You’re sitting with me today and from now on. Let someone even try to say something to you with me there.”

  Neal nodded, but you could see his whole demeanor change. He seemed to lighten up. Wes was a really good brother. I loved the way he was always there for his family. It couldn’t have been easy for Neal to be a kid genius, but being his brother had to have its challenges, too, and if Wes got jealous or annoyed, he never showed it. In fact, if anything, he was proud and overprotective.

  I snuck away. Now definitely wasn’t the time to talk to Wes. He had other things to worry about than my tagging some photo. I’d catch him around lunchtime.

  “Where have you been?” Jill asked me as I walked into study hall.

  “Trying to talk to Wes,” I said.

  “And?” she questioned.

  I shook my head as we headed to our seats. “No luck. I can’t get him alone, and I’m afraid the longer I wait, the worse it’s going to be.”

  “I really think you are getting worked up over nothing. He probably didn’t even see it. Normal people don’t study their little brother’s social media pages.”

  “Maybe…”

  “Seriously,” she sai
d, “I don’t even remember the last time I looked at my sister’s old pictures. I bet you’re fine.” She pulled out a lipstick and a compact mirror.

  “Lipstick?” I questioned. Jill rarely bothered with things like makeup.

  “Was just in the mood.”

  “Really? And it has nothing to do with lover boy?” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

  “Okay, fine, maybe,” she blurted out and glanced at the door expectantly. “I haven’t seen him yet. And with the break, it’s been a full week.”

  The bell rang, and there was still no sign of Seth Werner. Jill got one of her I-am-in-panic-mode looks. That was the thing with her. You always knew exactly what she was thinking. Her face was easy to read. If only I had been able to figure out Wes like that, my life would have been a whole lot simpler right now.

  “I’m sure he’ll show,” I said. “I saw him in first period. He’s here.” I definitely understood what it was like to be anxious to see someone. And Jill had it bad for Seth. He was tall, lanky, with a nose a little too big for his face, yet still kind of hot. Ever since he sat next to her in study hall a few weeks ago, and she saw him reading a book not assigned by a teacher, she was smitten. A cute guy who likes to read is, like, a major turn-on for Jill.

  “You guys would make a great couple. You know that, right?”

  She swatted my arm. “Shhhhh.”

  I wasn’t about to drop the subject. This was the perfect distraction. Not only did I get to think about something other than my failures, but it would also help my best friend—whom I seriously owed. “You should just ask him out,” I said. “He clearly likes you. Watching you two is gag-worthy.”

  “You mean like you and Wes at rehearsals? I didn’t see you asking him out.”

  I started doodling in my notebook. “It’s not the same.”

  “Oh, please,” she said.

  “Fine,” I relented. “Maybe it was. But I highly doubt you want to be like me. Make a total fool of yourself, almost kiss him, then tag yourself in his brother’s picture—and still no date.”

  “So why don’t you take your own advice and ask him?”

  The conversation was tabled as Seth ran into class. He waved a hall pass at the teacher and bounded into the seat on the other side of Jill.

  “I was at the library,” he said, holding up some worn-out paperback. “You said you liked mysteries, so I signed this one out for you. I read it last year, and it was amazing. You’ll never guess who the killer is. Okay, I can’t tell you anything more or I’ll ruin it for you. You have to read it, and then we can talk about it.”

  He was talking so fast I could barely keep up, but Jill was beaming. Whether he knew it or not, Seth had found the way to her heart. For Jill, getting a handpicked book specially for her was better than receiving three dozen roses. I had a feeling he wouldn’t have to wait long to discuss the book with her. It was a fairly safe bet that Jill would have the whole thing finished before she went to bed.

  Seth handed it to her, his fingers lightly swiping hers. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. And so did hers. It was actually cute. Well, for me to watch. It was probably pretty embarrassing for them. I’d seen Jill have crushes before, but never like this. She looked frozen, as if she forgot how to form a sentence. And Jill was never at a loss for words. “Thanks,” she finally squeaked out.

  “Sure.” He looked away. “Just thought you’d like it.” He was clearly having insecurity issues, too. With their rate of shyness, they’d be lucky if they went on their first date by the time they graduated college.

  “Ask him out,” I mumbled so that only she would hear.

  “Shut up,” she hissed back.

  “What?” Seth asked.

  The look she gave me was a mixture of pure terror mixed with I-want-to-tape-your-mouth-shut-for-eternity. “Nothing,” she said.

  She was probably going to kill me now but thank me later, because like it or not I was going to help her romance along. “I was asking her about the dance.” I pulled a flyer out of my bag. I still had a bunch from when Amanda made me pass them out. “It’s Friday. I helped organize it, and I want Jill to go. Maybe you can help me convince her?”

  Jill dug her heel into my foot, but I wasn’t one to let a little pain stop me. My love life was a question mark, but that didn’t mean my friend couldn’t wind up with the guy of her dreams.

  “I’ve never been to one of the dances,” Seth said.

  “Really?” Jill asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m not a great dancer.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I butted in. “Jill can teach you. She’s awesome.”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t say awesome,” she answered, and this time it was my turn to kick her. She had the perfect opening and was blowing it. “But…” she snapped out of her stupor. “I’m okay. I’d definitely show you. If you wanted.”

  Seth stole a glance at her. “It could be fun. Sure.”

  “Cool,” she said, sneaking a look back.

  “Great, it’s a date,” I chimed in so there would be no confusion later on.

  Jill stomped on my foot extrahard this time, but I knew she was happy. Not only did I help snag her a date to the dance, but I also saved her countless hours of wondering if they were going as friends, dance teacher/dance student, or as a couple.

  I was tempted to butt in some more, but I didn’t think my foot could handle another Jill hit, so I left them alone and went back to obsessing over my own problem. What was Wes going to think about my tagging his brother? I hated GroupIt. Why hadn’t I been faster to log back on? If only I had taken the tag off the photo before Neal commented. I cringed when I thought about what he wrote. Cool, Emily, I like older women. Then he threw in a winky face. My name was now emblazoned for posterity under his picture. I thought about messaging him to take it down. But it didn’t really matter. Either way, he was bound to tell his brother. Neal didn’t know me; our only real connection was Wes. If he was as smart as everyone said he was, he’d definitely put two and two together. So there was basically no getting around it. I had to own up to everything. Lunch couldn’t come fast enough.

  After class, Jill held me back. “What was that?”

  “My paying back my best friend. I told you I’d make it up to you.”

  “And did you ever.” A huge smile spread over her face. “I just got a date with Seth. I think I’m in shock. Over-the-moon, ecstatic shock. Now we just have to get things right with you and Wes.”

  “I know,” I said, and I linked arms with her. “And I had a lot of time to think while you and Seth were busy swooning over each other. I know what I’m going to do. I’m just going to fess up that I was looking at his brother’s pics because I wanted to know more about his family, because I like him. Then I’m going to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Ask him to the dance.”

  I, Emily Stein, was about to pour my heart out to Wes Rosenthal and pray he didn’t break it.

  20

  When the bell rang for lunch, I booked it back to Wes’s locker.

  I was nearly out of breath by the time I reached him. I really needed more exercise than the occasional game of cart-lympics.

  “Hey,” he said, and gave me a big smile.

  “Hey,” I answered. He seemed happy to see me, but that meant he probably didn’t know about the picture. I had to get it over with. Rip off the Band-Aid. “I have a confession. I did something stupid. Again.”

  He raised an eyebrow. I scrunched my eyes closed and kept going, letting the words run from my mouth. “I was looking at all the pictures we were tagged in from the scene and somehow I wound up on your brother’s page and my computer got a mind of its own and I tagged myself in one of his pictures. It was an accident.” Okay, I may have veered slightly from my plan to disclose everything, like how I was spying because of my massive crush, but it was scary to be that open.

  “Yeah, Neal showed me that last night. I figured it was some so
rt of mistake.”

  I opened my eyes back up. Was he serious? Did he really not think it was a big deal?

  “One time,” he said, “I accidentally clicked ‘love’ on a post where my uncle announced he and my aunt were getting a divorce. I didn’t even realize I did it until my mom said something. My finger must have touched it while I was swiping on my phone. Who knows what else I accidentally liked? Dogfighting rings? End-of-the-world theories? Crazy political posts? I swear if that has happened, it wasn’t me, just my fat fingers.”

  Once again, Wes had managed to turn around an embarrassing situation and made me smile. I wanted to go to the dance with him now more than ever. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of his bar mitzvah. This time, I was asking him to be my date.

  “Did you hit ‘like’ for the dance?” I asked. “I was thinking it would be fun, and I was…” Spit it out, Emily! “wondering if you had plans?”

  Wes shifted on his feet and looked kind of awkward. Before he could answer, Amanda shimmied up and slid under his arm. “He’s going with me.”

  What?!

  This couldn’t be happening. It felt as if my blood had stopped flowing and an invisible force had managed to thrust a hand all the way to my heart and ripped it out. I might have looked normal on the outside, but on the inside I was hollow.

  He. Was. Going. To. The. Dance. With. Amanda.

  How was this possible? Just yesterday Wes had almost kissed me. Had I read it all wrong? I couldn’t even think straight.

  “You weren’t trying to ask Wes out, were you?” Amanda asked, and gave a haughty little laugh like the idea was so outlandish. I hated her. First day back to school after days in the hospital, and she couldn’t even pretend to be nice? “You know,” she continued, “I thought you were into Neal, at least according to GroupIt. Maybe you could ask him out instead.”

  I thought I was going to throw up or pass out or something. Now would have been a great time for the floor to open up and swallow me.

  “Amanda,” Wes started to say.