Not Okay, Cupid

by Heidi R. Kling

  Oh gosh. What now? The tears were threatening to spill out of my eyes, and I had to get out of here.

  “You have another invite.”

  The class broke into the kind of mumbling we refer to as “rhubarbs” in drama class. It’s like crowd noise, used as a repetitive reaction against an announcement. You know you’re saying nonsense, but the audience thinks the crowd is saying something real.

  “Another” —gulp—“invite?” I asked, thoroughly confused again. How much worse could this get?

  I approached my teacher and took the invitation—again a pink folded heart from construction paper—and unfolded it in my hand, expecting this one to be from Jay again, except this one would say: JUST KIDDING DID YOU REALLY THINK I’D INVITE YOU TO THE DANCE AFTER I DUMPED YOU, EMBARRASSING YOUR PATHETIC BUTT IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE SCHOOL.

  But it didn’t.

  It said instead:

  Dear Basil: Would you do me the honor of playing Psyche to my Cupid? Love, Felix the Cat. YES, PLEASE.

  I gasped, heart in throat. Would I throw up with relief? Right here in front of homeroom? Bad luck always came in threes, right?

  But this wasn’t bad luck.

  This was the Felix invite I’d talked myself out of wanting.

  He’d used the nickname I came up with for him.

  His nickname.

  And “do me the honor.”

  Not only had he invited me to the dance, after all, but his was the far superior invite to Jay’s.

  “What a lucky girl to have two invites to choose from,” my teacher mused with this cocked head/sweet face that Mom got in the beginning of Classic Sads before everything went to hell, and the couple was in their adorable meet-cute love at first (or second, or third) sight phase because they had no idea they were about to be sabotaged or have their fancy cruise ship sunk.

  I texted Felix as soon as I got out of class:

  HAZEL: Felix the Cat?

  FELIX: Hazel the Basil?

  HAZEL: I got your invite.

  FELIX: You did, huh?

  HAZEL: Yep. Something weird happened. Jay invited me too.

  FELIX: I know.

  HAZEL: You know?

  FELIX: Of course I know.

  HAZEL: What? How? Why?

  FELIX: He was next to me in line.

  HAZEL: omg. But why would he ask me then? I don’t get it? I thought maybe it was old or something? If he was already sending me an invite, then the plan was working right? You didn’t have to ask me. Right? I mean. Right? So why…

  FELIX: Where are you?

  HAZEL: Walking toward the main exit. Typing like a mad dog.

  FELIX: You shouldn’t walk and text. It’s very dangerous. Didn’t your mom ever tell you that?

  HAZEL: Lol. Where are you?

  FELIX: Rapidly avoiding a collision.

  HAZEL: Wha

  I couldn’t finish typing because a giant buffoon careened into me. Smack! Square in the middle of the hallway. “What the yard ape?” I screeched and started to fall backward. I reached back, all my stuff scattering around the tile, but was fortunately caught moments before falling to my death on the hard hallway floor.

  “Told you it was dangerous to text and walk,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear. I swung around, and there was Felix with his brown eyes and his mischievous smile, smelling like saltwater and a turkey sandwich.

  “Oh my God, I hate you! You scared me to death!”

  But I was laughing as I slugged him. In typical Felix fashion, he held up his palms like he was innocent. So I slugged him a second time.

  “I’m not a shark! I’m not a shark!” he yelled, and I cracked up. No one knew what the hell we were talking about, of course. No one we knew had been at the ocean yesterday but the two of us, so it was our inside joke.

  Now we had inside jokes.

  Truth was, I’d never been so relieved to see someone in my life. Scratch that, I’d been thrilled to see him when he’d saved me in the cafeteria. The day this whole fake-relationship-revenge thing had started.

  Our faces were so close that they almost touched. My eyes grazed down his face until they stopped on his full lips. Felix had great lips.

  “Everyone’s watching,” he mumbled in my ear, an invitation I was all too eager to accept.

  I leaned forward and kissed him.

  Kissed him not because people were watching, but because he’d sent me a Cupid invite. And he’d phrased it much, much better than Jay. And not just “everyone” was watching. Jay was watching. He was standing there, behind Felix. I met his eyes and kissed Felix again.

  God, he was a good kisser. Felix, I mean.

  When I pulled back, Jay had his I Just Lost a Match face: red, chin jutting out, angry-embarrassed. Jay wasn’t a good loser. In fact, my mom, who’d never liked him, had nicknamed him Bruce Jenner, referencing not the recent sex-change-reality-TV-Malibu-car-crash Bruce Jenner, but the tennis pro who used to have all the on-court tantrums.

  I’d had to correct Mom, who often confused celebrity types, that though I’d never seen the reality TV show he’s on, I was pretty sure Bruce Jenner was a decathalon/Olympic winner, not a tennis player.

  “Oh. Maybe I mean John McEnroe,” she said, looking off in the distance. “They were both athletes in the eighties.”

  “Sure thing, Mom.”

  I used to defend Jay when we were together. Of course I had, he’d been my boyfriend. But now that he wasn’t, I thought it was funny that he had those toddler-esque fits on the tennis court. Who does that? It was the pillar of not only bad sportsmanship, it was so unattractive. Who wants to date a whiny baby?

  And his face now was funny, too. All beet red and pissed off.

  He glanced around the crowd, some of whom were in my homeroom and knew that he’d sent me the invite. He was losing face in front of everyone.

  Jay didn’t like losing face.

  “Didn’t you get the invitation, Hazel?” he said, standing over me.

  “Oh, did you send me an invitation?” I asked fauxplussed.

  “Yes! I ordered it this morning, and it was meant to be delivered to you in homeroom.”

  “Hmm. Homeroom.”

  This was too fun.

  “Yes. Homeroom.”

  His patience was wearing hilariously thin.

  Felix spun around, and the look he gave me was a curious one.

  But I didn’t have time to ask him what was going on, or even ponder it much. Jay was upset. Jay was irritated. Jay was jealous.

  The revenge was working!

  Felix! The Revenge is working! I said to him with the grin I flashed. He looked down and half smiled, offering me a hand back up so that I could continue my game with Jealous Jay. I took his hand, and I liked the way it felt in mine. I liked it a little too much.

  This wasn’t the time to let anything that had developed between me and Felix to get in the way. We were entering the home stretch.

  So why did I care that Felix was egging me on to finish things with Jay?

  Why did I hate that Felix’s invitation was fake?

  “Hmm,” I said. “Now that you mention it, I do think I got something.”

  “So? Will you go with me?”

  “What about Kimmy?” Hands on hips, me playing dumb was over. “Isn’t she your girlfriend? I mean, the last time I checked, you should take your girlfriend to dances, not your ex-girlfriend.”

  “We thought…” He ran his fingers through his too-long hair nervously. “Kimmy and I felt, anyway—well, we felt bad about how everything went down and thought maybe this could be an olive branch. An extension of an olive branch.”

  Felix finally just started laughing. “Dude. At least come up with a new phrase. Or use the original one correctly. It’s ‘extend an olive branch,’ and it’s an idiom from Genesis. It means to ask for peace. Old Testament God made that huge flood, he sent a dove with an olive branch to Noah as a way of asking for forgiveness. He also offered a rainbow as a sign of hope. Except this i
sn’t Noah’s Ark. There isn’t a rainbow. It’s still raining shit all over you, bro.”

  Jay snarled. “So I’m not a Bible expert or a grammatical genius. So sue me.”

  Felix jetted out his thumb in Jay’s general direction like, This guy.

  I rolled my eyes. Jay was an idiot. But the revenge plan was working. He was asking me to the dance!

  And now to seal the deal, Felix said, “I know he also sent you an invite, Hazel, because he did it right in front of me this morning at the student council table. Which really hurt. It really did.” He grabbed his heart dramatically. “I mean, you’re my girlfriend now. It wasn’t right, Jay. It just wasn’t!”

  I almost laughed out loud, but then I thought: if Felix really were my boyfriend, he’d have every right to be pissed. Maybe not so I’m a contestant on Survivor and likely- also-have-a-personality-disorder mad, but yeah, he’d be pretty mad.

  So I backed him up. “Yeah,” I said, stomping my foot and accidentally breaking my mechanical pencil in the process. “I’m with Felix now, Jay. I know you don’t like it. But we are together. And we are in…love. And you’re going to have to get used to it.”

  Jay stood there looking from me to Felix back to me.

  “You and him? I’m sorry, Hazel, but I just don’t buy it.”

  I glanced at Felix so we could share a quick look of victory. Jay was buying it hook, line, and—

  But Felix looked genuinely upset. His eyes shadowed over. I knew that was his weak spot. Obviously he didn’t like me in real life, but he didn’t like others assuming I’d never like him. Guys like Felix were completely motivated by ego, and this was an ego-crushing assumption. I had to toss down a rope and save him by pulling that ego back up. Come on ego, climb, climb, climb!

  “You should buy it,” I said. “Hook, line, and sinker, my friend. Because we’re one hundred percent together. You think I could kiss someone like that and not mean it?”

  After I said it, Felix gave me another look, this one like I’d accidentally unburied some secret treasure and handed it to him.

  I’d meant to only toss him a rope.

  Jay observed in a dry voice, “That’s the weird thing. You never kissed me like that. And not just now, either. When you kissed him in the cafeteria, it was the same way.”

  “What are you talking about?” I protested awkwardly. “I kissed you like that all the time.”

  But I knew exactly what he meant.

  Could today get any worse? Honestly. Maybe I’d get run over by a school bus on the way home. That would be the clincher. Likely I wouldn’t even die. I’d just be maimed and in a full body cast, strung up on hooks and wires in the long-term care facility with only Jay visiting me, staring at me, and noting over and over and over again: “You never kissed me like that.”

  “Basil? You okay?”

  Felix James brought me back to reality.

  There was no bus.

  Just Jay.

  Just Jerky Jay. I didn’t want to go with him to the dance. Even though it was the revenge plan, I didn’t want to go with him anywhere.

  But the invitation from Felix had been fake. All part of the plan.

  If I didn’t go to the dance with Jay…

  If I didn’t break his heart…

  If I didn’t have my revenge…

  What would I have left?

  I’d be tiny. Powerless. A small person anyone could take advantage of. Jay first in line, anyone else next.

  Suddenly weak, I dropped my things all over the floor. Jay didn’t bother to help me pick it up; he just stared at me absently, like he was thinking about something else. Felix darted around, briskly fetching this and that and stuffing it back in my backpack, or, like my phone, handing it to me. Felix James—the pickup hero.

  Felix James, whose face I’d grabbed, whose lips were like honey, full and sweet. No, not honey, like some kind of fruit. A summer-ripe fruit. A peach. Felix’s lips were like a fresh sweet summer peach.

  He leaned down next to me as I went onto one knee to pick up one of my books.

  “Hazel?” he whispered.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re all sweaty.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you hit your head. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have crashed into you like that. I was just trying to be funny.”

  Sweet peaches on the vine.

  He was looking at me funny. Nectar lips of Felix James. That wasn’t a half-bad book title. I felt woozy.

  Jay was still standing there, waiting, demanding an answer. “We aren’t done talking about this.”

  Felix whipped around, and in the firmest voice I heard him snap, “You’re done for now.”

  “Felix?” I said. I did feel weak. And shaky. “Is it cold in here?”

  “No.”

  He looked worried. Calm, cool, collected Felix James looked so worried. Was I worrying him?

  “Come on, Bazil. I’m taking you home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Felix

  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with Hazel. Had I missed something? Had she hit her head? Wasn’t she happy the plan was going well? I’d asked her to the dance to get Jay to ask her, sure, that was a big part of it. And it had worked! Jay had invited her. But then why was she so unhappy when our plan was working out perfectly?

  Maybe she was just overwhelmed with the crazy week. She was a tough girl, but the goings-on were more than anyone could realistically handle.

  We left Jay fuming in the hallway. The poor guy didn’t know what hit him. But I knew what would happen next. Now it didn’t matter if he suspected anything. He saw me as competition. He’d never back down now. I gave him two hours tops before he called Hazel and begged her to go to the dance with him.

  I helped her walk out to my truck. Her Jeep was here, but I didn’t think it was really okay for her to drive. Not with how woozy she looked.

  What was wrong? Had she gotten some kind of concussion when I’d run into her?

  Or was it something worse?

  Something Jay related?

  Did their fight upset her so much that it made her physically ill? Hazel didn’t seem to fit the bill of those literary heroines with their fainting spells, but you never know.

  “You better now?” I asked when we were halfway to her house.

  “No. Yes. You know, Felix, I’m not sure.”

  She was acting very weird.

  “We’re almost to your house.”

  “Okay.”

  “Does your head hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “Felix?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you like peaches?”

  “Sure.”

  “But do you really, really like peaches?” she asked strangely. I decided to go ahead and humor her. Maybe she was thinking about making a pie or something.

  “Well, if you want specifics, yes. They aren’t my all-time favorite fruit, but I do like them. This is going to make me sound like a food snob, but I really only like a peach if it’s mid-summer ripe from the farmers market in its prime. And then only if it’s an extra-special chin-dripping variety. I always try a sample before I buy a peach. No sample, no deal. The only way to eat a peach is when they are fresh and ripe in the peak of the season, otherwise they can be hard and tasteless. You know eighty-five percent of our nation’s peaches are grown in California? I can make a mean peach tart, by the way. If you’re interested, I’ll make one for you sometime. I’ll even toss on some homemade whipped cream if you ask nicely.”

  “Wow,” she said dizzily.

  “What?”

  “That makes sense, actually.”

  “What does?”

  She grinned like a weirdo. So she did have a concussion after all. I’d better tell her mom to take her into the doctor tomorrow. And remind her of that list of things to do if someone had a concussion.

  “You and peaches,” she said. “You are so much alike.”

  “I�
�m like a peach? You mean all warm and fuzzy on the outside and sweet on the inside?” I kidded.

  “Kinda like that.”

  “Well, that’s the image I’m going for,” I said, laughing.

  “I’m not making fun of you, you know,” she said, all confessional like, furrowing her cute brow.

  “You aren’t?” I asked just for the hell of it. Maybe she’d tell me more. Like tell me what she was really thinking. The scene in the hallway had been…pretty wild. But it was hard to get to the heart of Hazel. She kept her real feelings so close to the chest.

  Me and her both.

  “No. It’s just that…”

  “Just what?” I pressed, hopeful.

  Say something, Hazel.

  She looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something. Something more. Something to make her talk. I opened my mouth, but then instinctively clamped it shut.

  “Nothing,” she said, but her tone had an achy lilt to it, like she didn’t mean nothing.

  She held my eyes like her heart didn’t mean nothing either.

  I blinked. When I opened my eyes she was still standing there staring at me.

  We locked eyes, aching to hold them forever, but it didn’t matter. Even if she ended up going with me to the dance, even if the absurd happened and we ended up getting together, it wouldn’t last. There was no way it could.

  I’d never be good enough for Hazel, and we both knew it.

  Outside the revenge game, we didn’t have anything.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hazel

  I’d never felt this horrible in all my life. Letting Felix walk away like that without me saying anything? Dumb. Dumb and stupid and weak. What was wrong with me? What do I really have to gain from it but winning this revenge game? Proving that nobody had power over me except myself, maybe. And that was definitely something…but if it was everything, why did I feel so rotten?

  Certain I was sick over Felix, over this whole thing. I spent all night either on the toilet or with my head in the toilet, thinking of the look in his eyes as I just let him go out the door without calling him back, without telling him I’d changed my mind. The images flashed in my mind, stabbed my aching stomach, plunged through my heart like a cold, heartless arrow.