Practically Ever After

by Isabel Bandeira

  Mr. Newton took my notebook into his hands and studied it for a minute, nodding. “Good start. It’ll be interesting to see how you work this out. Just don’t bite off more than you can chew, as usual, okay?” He handed the notebook back, then turned to Alec. “I hope you’re not making armor, because I don’t know if I can justify accepting voice of customer from a comic book character again,” he said, referring to Alec’s last project. “It would be nice to see you do a project in this century and this universe, Alec.”

  “I know, but that was a really fun project to model.” Alec gave his 3-D model one more spin before pulling out his sketchbook and opening it to a page full of doodles that were a million times better than my sketches. A few different thumbnail-style drawings filled the page in a way that defied all good documentation practice rules. Alec never had any trouble brainstorming concepts and usually had the most out-of-the-box ideas of everyone in the class. Instead of pointing to one of his rube-goldberg-esque designs that looked like something out of a DaVinci notebook, though, he’d circled something that looked a lot like a simple easel. “I’m thinking of designing an adjustable, ergonomic stand for my drawing tablet. My current kickstand sucks and I think I can make something better.”

  “That’s surprisingly simple for you,” Mr. Newton said.

  “That’s because I actually have to make it work,” Alec said, taking back his sketchbook with a sheepish smile. “And you know I pretty much only took this class for the CAD and design, not the engineering.”

  I resisted the urge to snort. “You know you’re not supposed to say that in front of the teacher right before starting your final project, right?”

  Our teacher shook his head and cracked a smile. “It’s not a surprise. Complexity isn’t a requirement, but I do need to see a moving assembly. And you’ll still have to go through the entire design process.” He then looked pointedly over at me. “Remember, it’s not about having the fanciest design, it’s about showing you can develop an idea into a technically feasible prototype with plans for how you’d get to commercial launch. Simple is okay.”

  “Got it.” I turned back to my computer screen and pulled up the project proposal I’d already started drafting. “I can do simple.”

  “Good. And remember to play nice with others, you two.” Newton rapped his knuckles on our table before moving on to Dave, probably to lecture him about standing up to us.

  “You’re not going to make something simple.” Alec knew me all too well. “It’s, like, physically impossible for you, and I think you secretly love lording it over everyone else, too.”

  I didn’t bother to contradict him, instead flashing him a confident grin. “If I want to be a real engineer, I won’t succeed by taking the simple way out,” I said, carefully typing “Stroke Rehabilitation Glove” into the project title space. “I can make it work.” After some of the research I’d done over the weekend, I was positive my idea wasn’t going to be too complicated to work out. There were only so many ways to design rehab gloves, after all.

  “Oh, I believe you can.” Alec said, turning back to his chestplate design. “Just save some of that energy for all your other finals.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I clicked the internet icon on my desktop and started searching for pictures of other rehab gloves. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Ha, famous last words, Grace,” he said.

  “Not for me.”

  I was still running through my design ideas as I left class when a hand grabbed my arm and started pulling me through the hallway. I looked up to see Em grinning over her shoulder at me as she picked up her pace.

  “Okay, you need to hear this and I want you to hear it directly from the source. This is the absolute best thing I’ve heard in days.” Em practically dragged me down to Phoebe’s locker, pushing through groups of people packing the hallway.

  Phoebe’s grey eyes grew huge when she saw us. Her gaze bounced between Em and me before she practically tried to stuff herself in the locker. “I told you, Em, I’m not going blonde,” she said defensively from behind the half-open door. “First, Mom would kill me, second—”

  “Relax, I was kidding.” Em said, sharing an amused look with me. “Even though I think it might look pretty awesome on you. But we’re not here about that.”

  “Oh, so…” she looked back over at me and I shrugged. There were times I just didn’t get their best friend dynamic. “What’s up?”

  An evil little twinkle came into Em’s expression. “Tell Grace where you’re going to be staying this summer while you’re in India.”

  Phoebe stopped using the locker door as a shield and closed it slowly, failing miserably at looking nonchalant as she leaned against the row of lockers. “Well, you know my parents weren’t big fans of me spending every night for a month in the same house as my boyfriend even though we’re going to be in completely different rooms and with his whole family,” she started slowly. “So—”

  Em jumped in before she could finish. “They’re making her sleep in a convent.”

  Phoebe scrunched her nose as an annoyed look flashed across her features. “It’s not a convent. It’s an all-girls boarding school attached to a convent. And it’s only a block away from his grandparents’ place,” she said pointedly.

  Out of everything I’d guessed, there was no way I would have come up with that. At the semi-defiant look on Phoebe’s face, I suppressed a laugh. “You’re kidding.”

  “Dev’s great aunt’s sister-in-law is one of the Sisters who teach there. She was on a long call with my mom and his mom yesterday, working out all the details so I’d have somewhere to stay. They even found another convent school for me to stay at when we’re in Delhi.”

  “Wow.”

  She crossed her arms defensively in front of her chest. Annoyed Phoebe was like a kitten who had been poked one too many times by a little kid. “It’ll be fun. Classes might be in session, so I’ll get to meet the girls who board there.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Your parents realize you’re going to college next year, right?”

  Phoebe blew air through her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Look, the important thing is that, in about six weeks, I’m going to be standing under the Gateway to India with Dev.”

  “Probably chaperoned by his whole family. And yours, too, via videochat, if your parents have their way. I’m amazed your sister was allowed out enough to meet Petur, much less get engaged.” Em turned to face me directly and Phoebe stuck her tongue out at Em from behind her back, “We can’t let Phoebe and Dev miss out on prime romantic opportunities at the Taj Mahal or—” she waved her hand over her shoulder at Phoebe in a “fill me in” gesture.

  Phoebe heaved a deep sigh and rolled her eyes at me, but played along. “Sunset over Marine Drive?”

  “Yes, that. Perfect.” Em flashed a grin at me. “So, are you and Leia up to with helping us brainstorm, Grace?”

  “Sure,” I said, laughing with Phoebe as she pretended to facepalm. “Count us in.”

  “Good. Now, find some space on that super busy schedule of yours to go shopping with her. Phoebe needs some ‘hottest girl at the convent’ clothes.”

  “You’re not letting go of that ever, are you?” Phoebe asked, but the corners of her lips twitched up the littlest bit despite her best efforts to look stern.

  Em tilted her head, her grin impossibly wide as a counter to Phoebe’s expression. “What do you think?”

  Phoebe made a half groan/half ugh sound and stormed down the hallway.

  “Love ya,” Em called after her before turning to me. “She’ll thank us afterwards.”

  I shook my head at her. “‘Hottest girl at the convent,’ Em?”

  Em shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but her expression grew more serious. “She’ll never complain out loud, and don’t tell her I told you this, but she’s really not happy about the boarding school nun chaperone thing. She was already super stressed about her sister’s wedding and all the s
tuff everyone expects her to do as maid of honor considering that Trixie just had to time it so all the work falls on Feebs right now, right before graduation—”

  “I know,” I said, cutting her off. “Remember? Me and Leia are trying to help her out as much as you are. And my mom volunteered to help her mom with planning Trixie’s wedding.” I could practically picture the layout in my planner—I’d used a teal pen for all of Phoebe’s things, and they had been neatly slotted between all the other things I needed to do for the rest of the school year. It was easy enough to add a shopping trip to the list.

  “Yeah, but she’s been trying to put a really good face on things. Think about it, the only two things that were actually all about her were graduation and this trip, and now this convent thing is happening. She was really looking forward to late night movie watching and hanging out on the apartment balcony to see the sunrise and stuff, and instead she’s getting twenty-four-hour surveillance. Feebs was crushed last night.”

  My eyes grew wide at the details. Phoebe’s easy smiles and banter hadn’t even hinted a problem. “And, so, you remedy this by reminding her of the thing that upset her? That’s a great way to upset her more.”

  Em shook her head so hard, her curls bounced against her cheek. “Nope, nope, nope. I’m just trying to cheer her up.”

  That last sentence didn’t compute. “By teasing her?”

  “Ah, but,” she held one finger up in the air to make a point, “she was about to start laughing just now, wasn’t she?”

  “Because you were being ridiculous.”

  “That was the point,” Em said with a nod. “I know what makes her laugh and I have no problem being ridiculous if it helps cheer up the people I love. Ignoring the problem isn’t going to make it go away, but making it something she can laugh over might help a little. You do the same thing, in your own super logical life guru way.” She checked her phone and grimaced at the time. “I’ve got to go, but schedule that shopping trip with her. I know you’re busy, but she could probably use a little one-on-one Grace time.” Without waiting for my answer, she started down the hallway with a wave. “Thanks!”

  I blinked at her retreating form, absorbing the whirlwind of the last few minutes. Em always seemed to find new ways to surprise me.

  My phone messenger dinging broke me out of my thoughts, a message from Leia popping up over my lock screen. After school studying still on the schedule?

  I smiled down at my screen as I headed for my own locker, typing: Definitely. Library? Maybe she’d have some ideas about things we could do to help Phoebe a little more, too. Leia was good at things like that.

  Leia’s response came quickly. Perfect. See you in a few. <3

  Chapter 4

  The park outside Lambertfield’s library looked like the encyclopedia entry for a perfect spring afternoon, complete with singing birds and kids floating little boats in the fountain, but all that had quickly faded into the background after I’d opened my latest email. I shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench, staring at the screen of my phone for a solid minute before hitting refresh again, nausea washing over me. The list of names didn’t change, no matter how many times I re-read the announcement.

  Leia’s familiar short hair brushed my jaw as she came up from behind to softly kiss my cheek.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late, Ms. Murray and Miss Royal stopped me to talk about graduation and class day exercises and I—” She stopped the second she saw my expression. “Grace, what’s wrong?” Leia asked, coming around the bench to sit next to me.

  “Next year’s cheerleading team was announced,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment and disbelief out of my voice.

  “You’re not on the list,” she guessed, her voice growing softer with sympathy as she reached out to tug my phone from my hands to check for herself. After a moment, she shut off the screen and dropped the phone into her lap, covering it with one hand to keep me from getting at it, then wrapping her free arm around my shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Well, it’s their loss.”

  I ignored the urge to take back my phone and check again, instead leaning into her squeeze and taking comfort in her just being there. Leia gave the best hugs. Maybe even good enough to help squeeze away the sting of rejection. “Thanks.”

  Leia didn’t say anything for a minute, just dropped her head to my shoulder and tightened her side-hug. I dropped my head on top of hers, breathing in the familiar, spicy sandalwood scent of her perfume and soaking in her calm aura. As soon as the tension in my shoulders dropped a notch, she handed me back my phone. “We knew it was a long shot, anyway, especially since you’re an incoming freshman.”

  “Yeah.” It still stung, though. Part of me expected to get on the team, anyway, especially since I’d driven up to State College for the audition and had given a textbook audition and interview. I’d out-handspring-ed and out-heel-stretched half the girls there and danced better than at least three-quarters of them, so I couldn’t wrap my brain around why I wasn’t at the top of the list. “I should call them to make sure this list is complete.” There simply had to have been some sort of mistake. Maybe they’d confused me with another girl or—

  “You’re not used to not getting rejected, so I’m sure it hurts even more,” Leia said, ignoring my last sentence and breaking my train of thought. “It definitely must be a blow to your ego.”

  “Excuse me?” I tried to lift my head to narrow my eyes at her, but she reached up and held me in place, her shoulders shaking slightly as she held back a laugh.

  “Even Princess Grace needs to hear ‘no’ once in a while,” she said, softly. “But you can’t blame them. They didn’t know they turned down royalty. And, like you even said, it was a long shot to begin with.”

  “Hmph.”

  “Anyway, this will make you stronger,” she said in direct imitation of my cheerleading coach.

  I felt the pout growing on my lip. “I think I’d prefer staying weak and getting on the team.”

  “You will, next year. You can build up your skills and show them why they’d be crazy not to have you on their team. Until then, how about the club teams?”

  I tried not to make a face at her suggestion. In my opinion, club teams were either for people who couldn’t make the cut or weren’t totally serious about the sport. Leia had called me a snob the last time I’d told her that, so, instead, I said, “I don’t know. Maybe I need to focus on my classes next year.”

  “Ten dollars and a plate of disco fries says you’ll miss cheer and you’ll be on one of the club teams by October.”

  I shook my head hard enough to mess up her hair, knowing that doing so would annoy her later when she tried to smooth it back down. “You know I only did cheer to bulk up my transcript and up my social quotient. Otherwise, I’d have stayed in dance. It was a means to an end.”

  Leia made a humming sound that was the non-verbal-equivalent of a disbelieving “sure.”

  “Really, I won’t miss cheer. In fact, it might be nice to get some free time back.” I said, and she made the same humming sound as before. “It’s true. It’s not like I love the sport or anything. It was just a logical filler.” The words flowed out easily, but the moment she laced her hand with mine, it was hard to keep up my façade. “Fine. It sucks,” I said, my voice breaking slightly.

  “It totally does.”

  “But right now I want to wallow and quit cheer forever.” The thought of not cheering or competing next year was hard to process, and I squeezed her hand.

  “I know,” she said, squeezing back.

  “And I want my girlfriend to be supportive and not to call me out while I’m trying to talk myself out of being disappointed.”

  Leia let out a small, almost exasperated sigh. “I am totally being supportive. I just want you to remember that you’re allowed to love things just for the sake of loving them, and that it’s not the end of the world that you didn’t get picked for this one team at this one school.”

  “I—” I couldn�
��t quite argue with her on that. We sat in silence for another minute. “The textbook scholarship would have been nice.” I said while playing with her fingers.

  “Not like you need one, Miss My-Piggy-Bank-Practically-Has-Its-Own-Financial-Advisor. And don’t give me one of those ‘a penny saved is super practical’ lectures when you just bought a three-hundred-dollar scarf to tie onto your backpack.” She laughed at my hmph and snuggled further into my side, giving me a tiny jab with her elbow. “Save the scholarships for those of us who need them, ‘kay? I would definitely have taken up cheerleading if my school had one of them.”

  I lifted my head off hers and turned to give her my best scrunch-nosed grin. “I can’t picture you as a cheerleader.” Leia, for all her grace in everything else in life, had the coordination of a television nerd trope when it came to things like hip-hop and acrobatics. I had to hold back a giggle at the memory of the one time I tried to teach her a basic cartwheel and she’d ended up splayed out on her back on my lawn, declaring that she’d never try tumbling ever again and that I’d been the devil for suggesting it in the first place.

  “Your imagination just needs work. I’m sure I can do a roundhouse with tons of school spirit.”

  I knew she had gotten the name wrong on purpose just to cheer me up, but I played along. Leia was the queen of listening and remembering details. “Roundoff.”

  “Potato, pesticide, whatever.” She waved the hand that was hugging me dismissively.

  “That’s Round-up. And Round-up is an herbicide, not a pesticide.”

  “Know-it-all.” She pulled back from the hug to poke me in the nose lightly with her finger and said, “Whatever it is, I could pull it off. I’d be in the hospital for a week afterwards, but textbooks for an entire year probably cost more than a hospital stay.”

  “The truth in that really hurts.”