by Zoe Evans
“Maddy! Luc!” she said, tottering toward us on her stiltlike shoes. “I am SO sorry I’m late,” she said. “The bus took FOREVER.”
“You took the bus?” I said, feeling instantly guilty that I hadn’t thought of offering her a ride. “You should have come with me. My mom drove.”
“Aw, it’s okay,” she said. “My mom was supposed to drive me, but she got roped into some auction thingy. Whatever.” She shrugged.
“Well, we can give you a ride back,” I said, even though that meant Katie would know the real deal about my mom and Mr. D. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. What can I say? Sometimes I am more like Mother Teresa than I realize.
Luc and I grabbed a table while Katie placed her order. When she came to sit with us, she had a slightly worried look on her face. “NOW I remember why this place sounded so familiar,” she said, opening a sugar packet. “Clementine’s family drags her here all the time. They’re big art collectors.”
I wanted to say, “Couldn’t you have thought of that earlier?” We’d gone out of our way to pick a place no one would supposedly see us at, and of COURSE the one place I decide on happens to be a Prescott Family Hangout.
I looked around the tiny gallery. From where I was sitting, it looked like we were Clementine free. “The coast looks clear for now at least,” I said.
Katie did a once-over on the place as well. “Well I’m gonna keep my eyes peeled either way. Running into her here would be Bad News Bears.”
“Whoa,” said Luc, turning his chair around so he could straddle it. “Who’s this citrusy-sounding girl? Someone you guys don’t like?”
I laughed. As strange as her name was, no one had ever described it that way. “Well . . . ,” I said, not quite sure how to answer that.
“She’s my best friend,” said Katie, coming to the rescue. “But there’s just some stuff we don’t talk about.” Her eyes quickly flicked to me. “Stuff that she wouldn’t understand.”
Luc looked from me to Katie to me again. “I won’t ask. But that’s quite a strange best friend to have. I couldn’t keep secrets from mine even if I wanted to.”
“Must be a girl thing,” Katie said, forcing a laugh. But I knew she was just trying to close the book on the subject.
We hung out at the table for a while, digging into our desserts and swapping them with one another. I have to say the chocolate cake won, hands down, as MVP of the dessert selections. I thought I caught Luc looking at me more than he looked at Katie, which made me kind of uncomfortable (see?). Although it would have been flattering, I didn’t want this guy to have a crush on me or anything like that. I needed boy drama like I needed a ripped cheer uniform. I tried to figure out how I could slip the word “boyfriend” into the conversation (even though E and I are so not official) to make it clear that I was just looking for cake in this café, not a boyfriend. Then I remembered that when I’d first met Luc, he knew I had a boyfriend, but that didn’t stop him from being flirty that time either. So I was ÜBER relieved when he brought up the subject of his “girl.”
Katie, never one to miss a beat on gossip, instantly perked up. “Ooh, tell us! Is it anyone I know?”
Luc shook his head and wiped a crumb from the side of his mouth. “Nah. She just transferred to school right after you guys went back to Port Angeles. She was in my drama class, and we had to work on a skit together. She’s awesome.” His smile got recognizably larger as he talked about her. I wondered if Evan looked like this when he talked about me.
And since by then it was clear that Luc was just being nice to me and not flirty (sidebar comment: Miss Madison Hays, why do you assume every guy on the planet has a thing for you?), I was able to just relax.
Katie came up with the fun idea that we should go around the gallery, imitate pieces of artwork, and make the other two people guess which piece it was. Sort of like an art charades. I couldn’t help but think that this would have been totally dorky if I was the one who’d come up with the idea, but since Katie is the Queen of Cool (or one of three), it wasn’t. It was fun to see Katie loosen up from her usual cool-girl act that she has at school. Maybe just taking her out of Port Angeles did the trick.
When it was Luc’s turn, he said he needed a partner. I walked up to him, giggling and hoping that he wasn’t about to imitate the piece that showed a chicken getting its head eaten by a bear (gross). Instead he put his arm around me. (And this time I wasn’t freaked out, cuz I knew it was just friendly.) Katie scanned the room, looking for the piece that this was supposed to remind us of. I couldn’t really turn because I was being used as “the prop.” But from the corner of my eye I saw someone step out from behind one of the columns in the gallery, and I heard the telltale click of a camera phone.
“Miss! Excuse me, but please, no photography,” chided one of the guards.
I turned to see who’d taken the picture but saw that the door to the gallery was already closing behind whoever had just dashed out of there. Totally weird, right?
“Ooh, someone got schooled,” said Luc, looking toward the exit.
“I got it!” said Katie, oblivious to the commotion. “It’s that one.” She walked over to the piece that showed two genderless stick figures next to each other, one stick figure with its arms around the other. I could have drawn that in my sleep! I seriously should consider becoming an artist.
“Nice work,” said Luc.
I was going to bring up what had just happened, but then decided to just keep going with our game. WHY AM I BEING PARANOID? People must try to sneak pictures in galleries all the time. Just because someone took a picture somewhere NEAR me, didn’t mean it was one OF me. First I think Luc is flirting with me, and now I am imagining that the paparazzi are stalking me. Seriously, I need to have a long talking-to with my ego.
After our gallery game, we took a walk around the block. Katie kept asking Luc, in various ways, how her dance friends from New York were doing. I don’t know why she couldn’t just come out and ask the question she wanted to ask (who of her friends got in where), but maybe she didn’t want to seem nosy. So finally, I stepped in (cuz I’m so nice!) and said, “So, who made it in?”
Luc said that their friends Penelope and Darren made the cut, but Magda didn’t.
Katie stopped in her tracks. “What? MAGDA didn’t get in? But she was, like, the best dancer there. That’s insane.”
Luc nodded. “Yeah. Everyone’s talking about how random the admissions selections were. There were amazing dancers who didn’t get in, and not-so-amazing dancers who did. It didn’t seem to always have to do that much with how good people were overall. Of course, there were also amazing dancers, like Penelope, who did get in.”
“I guess,” said Katie, frowning into the distance. “I just thought I would be one of those amazing dancers who WOULD get in.” Then, realizing she’d just given herself a major compliment (hey, guess I’m not the only one), she quickly clasped her hand over her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”
Luc and I laughed. “It’s okay,” I said. “You ARE an amazing dancer.”
“Honestly, everyone was surprised you didn’t make it,” Luc said.
“Thanks, guys,” said Katie. “I know I decided in the end that I was going to stick with cheerleading no matter what, but it was a blow to my ego not to make the cut. You know? Sometimes I wish I could have it both ways.”
After Katie said that, I realized that I am pretty lucky. I got to try out for what I thought was my dream team—and I made it! But I still decided in the end to stick with the Grizzlies. At least I had a choice in the matter.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I hoped that it was a call from E, but the caller ID said “Coach,” i.e., Mom. So much for being picked up “whenever.”
“Sweetie? We’re actually in the neighborhood. Could we swing by in a few?”
“Sure,” I said. “Um, can we take Katie Parker home too?”
“Oh, Katie?” I could tell Mom was surprised but was glad she didn’t ask o
r say anything about it. Katie and I didn’t usually hang out outside of school.
“Yeah, she was here too.”
“Of course.”
I put my phone back in my pocket. “Sorry, guys,” I said. “Fun’s over. My mom’s swinging by the gallery any minute.”
I still can’t believe Katie’s parents just let her take the bus into the city. I know her dad works a lot, and her mom does lots of volunteer work, but still. My mom would never let me go to the city by myself. I know Mom is overprotective, but that means I get a ride to and from places without having to inch through town at a snail’s pace as we make all local stops.
It’s funny: I always thought Katie had the perfect everything. But the more I get to know her, the more I realize how much more there is to learn about her.
We said good-bye to Luc, who was going to meet up with one of his cousins somewhere else in the city. “Call me the next time you guys are in New York!” he said, before flipping his hoodie over his head and walking away.
“We will!” Katie and I called after him in unison as we got into the car.
The ride back home was bearable. Mr. D and Mom luckily kept their hands to themselves (how mortifying would it have been if they’d held hands in the car?!?). I think I was kidding myself that absolutely no one knew about my mom and Mr. D being a couple. Katie didn’t even flinch when she saw him in the car. She just said, “Oh, hey, Mr. D,” like it was no big deal. Still, I could live without news of Mom and Mr. D’s outing to the city being public knowledge. But I have a good hunch that Katie is going to keep this little piece of gossip to herself.
When I got home, I hopped onto my computer and FINALLY there was a little message from Evan. “I had a lot of fun the other night,” it said. There wasn’t much else, but that’s okay. Yay! It wasn’t just me who’d had a blast. Can’t wait to see him at school tomorrow.
OMG. UTTER DISASTER. I’m still trying to process what just happened. It was like a scene from out of my worst nightmare. Going insane right now!!! I know I’m supposed to get to class, but I feel like if I go there now, I’m going to just sit there with a shocked look on my face (like that poster in art class of the painting The Scream).
So here’s the sitch: I went to see Evan before second period, and when I went up to him, he was staring at his cell phone, looking confused.
“Hey, you,” I said. “Everything okay?”
He handed me his phone so I could see the message myself, his lips all crumpled into a puzzled frown. “Someone sent this pic to me just now. I thought you said you were going to Sew What? on Saturday. Unless this is a friend you made in the knitting aisle.”
I knew what the pic would be before I even laid eyes on it. I suddenly flashed back to the moment in the gallery when I thought I heard someone taking a picture. Lo and behold, it was a pic of Luc and me, with his arm casually draped around me, with the date and time that the picture had been taken. My heart dropped. I shook my head in disbelief. Someone had sent this to Evan to make it look like I’d lied to him and was hanging out with a mystery boy. A mystery boy that I wouldn’t be able to explain to Evan.
“So? What’s the deal?” he asked shakily. He grabbed his phone back.
“I—I—” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell him the truth without having to explain EVERYTHING. About Katie, about the New York trip. Everything. “He’s just a friend of mine,” I said. I knew it sounded totally lame.
Evan just gave me a cold look. “Weird. You never mentioned him before. And why did you say you were going to be at Sew What? Why did you lie? I’m your, um, friend, right?”
A girl from my social studies class stared at us as we walked by, then scurried toward one of her friends and whispered in her ear. Clearly we were making the School-Day Drama list.
I sighed, more out of frustration than anything. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t tell you a lot about him. I promised another friend that I’d keep our friendship a secret.” I know that sounds like the worst excuse ever, but what was I supposed to say? It was the truth. Or part of it.
Evan looked really confused. “Who, Lanie?” he squeaked, his voice breaking slightly.
I shook my head. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t say.” I could literally feel his anger rippling off him, so I tried changing the subject. “Want to wait for me after practice?” I asked, hoping his answer would be yes.
Evan practically stuttered his response. “I, uh—uh—no. I’m kind of busy tonight. So, um . . . later, Madison.”
Before I could say anything, he was walking away with his shoulders hunched up practically to his ears.
I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor in misery. I couldn’t imagine what Evan must be feeling. Like, we had this awesome date on Friday, and the next day there I was snuggling up to some strange guy. Just call me Two-Time Madison.
WHY COULDN’T WHOEVER HAD
TAKEN THE PICTURE HAVE SNAPPED
IT WITH KATIE IN THE FRAME TOO?
That would have at least looked a little better. But that must have been the point, right? To make me look bad and to get me in trouble with Evan? And who in the world would have taken this picture? Why would whoever it was go out of her way to hurt me? Well, paging Captain Obvious. . . .
Who else could it be but a certain Clementine Prescott? Can’t she find someone else to torment? How did I ever get to be so “lucky”? I preferred it before, when she barely knew who I was and just gave me the same dirty looks she gave everyone. Now she’s PLAYING DIRTY.
I decided to write Katie a quick note and slip it into her locker. “We need to talk,” it said.
I’m done with keeping Katie’s secrets. Evan needs to know the truth about this picture, and I don’t care if it means Katie might be on the outs with Clementine as a result. How did it end up that Katie’s stupid secrets are ruining my LIIIIIIIFE?
Ugh. Principal G approaching. Gotta get to class.
PLEASE LET THIS DAY END SOON!!!
LATER THAT NIGHT, SOAKING MY SORROWS IN THE TUB
So obviously I had a little trouble focusing during practice today. I was a total space cadet during our entire warm-up. Evan was nowhere to be seen at lunch, and when I walked past him in the hallway, he completely IGNORED me. Why do I feel like every moment we get somewhere good, something happens to totally take us off track? Lanes listened patiently as I whined to her about my situation, and she agrees it is time to say something to Katie.
“You can’t keep Katie’s secret if it means hurting yourself. Or other people, like Evan,” she said.
I knew she was right. But I wanted to talk to Katie first before I did anything rash. What a DILEMMA.
Jacqui, thank goodness, could read my warning signs at the beginning of practice (or make that panic signs), so she picked up most of the slack today (I heart that gurrrrl).
During practice, Mom asked everyone to sit tight as she explained the logistics of the Get Up and Cheer! competition (the least fun part of a competition, in my book). I forced myself to snap out of my funk and go into my Captain Mode.
“Everyone needs to be in the school parking lot, ready to board the buses, by six a.m.,” said Mom in her matter-of-fact voice. “No stragglers, okay, guys?”
Cue groans from nearly every person on the team. “But Coach,” said Jared, “the competition doesn’t start until ten, right?”
Mom shook her head. “People start competing at ten, but we have to first get ourselves assembled here, then who knows what kind of traffic we’ll have, and once we get to the site we have to register. And since we won’t know what order we’re competing in until we get there, we need to be prepared to go first.”
I knew Mom would get totally OCD about this competition. She’s always told me how on her own competition days, she’d get up with the roosters and start warming her body up. Then she’d have her mom drive her to the competitions before anyone else (not even the janitor) arrived, so she could “visualize herself on the mat.” It all sounded like a n
ice idea, and I even tried to do it a couple of times (and by try, I mean, I set my alarm clock and hit snooze a dozen times). But the reality of depriving myself of beauty sleep always won out.
“I’m going to be a zombie!” Jared whined.
“Not if you go to bed early at least two nights before, to prepare,” Mom chided.
Jared moaned, but he knew he wouldn’t win this battle. Not when it came to Coach Carolyn.
“Come on, guys, let’s get psyched!” said Jacqui. “It’s our first real competition EVER! Who cares if we lose a few z’s?”
“She’s right,” I said. “We’ve been looking forward to this for, like, ever.”
“Yeah,” said Tabitha Sue. “It’ll be fun, just us Grizzlies on the bus. I’ll bring homemade protein bars!”
Mom held a finger up to signal that she had more to say. “Well, it will mainly just be us Grizzlies, but we do need to have another chaperone.”
I prayed that this plan wouldn’t involve Mr. Datner. Just what I needed, the two of them holding hands across the aisle while everyone made fun of me. I could even hear the songs they’d sing along the way: “Coach Carolyn and Mr. Datner sitting in a tree . . .”
“Coach Whipley has kindly agreed to accompany us on the trip.”
I wasn’t so sure that Coach Whipley was that much of an improvement over Mr. D. If anything, she was probably worse.