Isabella and Julia give me high fives after the meet.
“You were great, Shay,” Isabella says.
“You fell with so much grace,” Julia says, and giggles. “You got style!”
“Shut up,” I say, but I giggle too.
Still laughing, Julia adds, “Sorry, my bad.”
That makes me laugh harder. Then Isabella starts. And it feels like old times, the three of us laughing at something that isn’t even funny.
Julia says in a rapping, singsong voice, “Today you took an L, but tomorrow you bounce back.”
Isabella sings, “Bounce back. Bounce back.”
The three of us do this bounce move we made up. It’s pretty great having friends who can make you smile even after something awful.
And then Stacy comes over, and my smile dribbles away.
“Nice face plant, bruh,” she says.
And Julia laughs. She laughs instead of telling Stacy not to be a jerk. And the laughter doesn’t feel at all like it did just a minute ago.
I still think not failing in the first place has got to be better than getting up after you fail.
I never knew laughter could sound so different and feel so different depending on who’s doing the laughing.
32
Everybody Dance Now
Now that it’s been a while since that awful practice meet, people have stopped teasing me about how “gracefully” I fall. Alex, of course, still thinks it’s spectacularly funny to pretend to trip almost every time he sees me, but his goofiness doesn’t bother me today, because it’s the last day before winter break. Two whole weeks off! We don’t go back to school until after the first of the year, and to celebrate, there’s a dance in the gym.
Even though Julia has been saying how dumb the dance will probably be, I’m excited. Maybe I’ll get to dance with Jace. He hasn’t thrown any more smiles my way, but at least we’re still lab partners.
The doorbell rings and I run to get it.
Isabella’s mom is dropping Isabella and Julia off so we can all go to the dance together, and afterward they’re both sleeping over.
The sleepover will be just like old times, and I’m probably more excited for it than the dance. It’s weird at school now, because ever since Halloween, Julia hangs out with her other friends at break a lot instead of me and Isabella. She calls them her squad. Isabella and I pretend it doesn’t bother us, but I’m sure it hurts Is’s feelings just like mine. At least Julia still sits with us at lunch.
Mrs. Álvarez comes to the door to say hi to Momma.
I love Mrs. Álvarez. She is always telling the three of us how strong we are—which is all kinds of hilarious considering what a softy Isabella is. Her accent makes her sound like this movie star Momma likes, and Mrs. Álvarez actually looks like she could be a movie star. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised when Isabella turned out to be hiding a whole bunch of beautiful under her unibrow and braces.
Momma and Mrs. Álvarez chat for what seems like forever, while Isabella, Julia, and I make funny faces at each other. We can’t go off to my room yet, because Mrs. Álvarez needs to give Isabella a lecture first. It’s their thing.
Mrs. Álvarez gives Momma a hug, and then she starts in on Isabella. I don’t actually know what she’s saying because she’s talking in Spanish, but I can tell by her tone, and by Isabella’s face, that it’s definitely a lecture. At the end of it, though, her mom gives her a big hug. Maybe Mrs. Álvarez is really a big softy just like her daughter. “What are we going to do with these girls?” she asks Momma, and they both shake their heads and sigh, and I’m sure we’re going to hear all about how tragic it is that we’re growing up. Luckily, this time, Mrs. Álvarez just gives Isabella a quick kiss.
“Adiós,” she tells us. “Be good.”
Finally, we can escape to my room.
“What did your mom tell you?” I ask Isabella.
“Not to dance too close to any boys. Not to dance too . . . you know.” Isabella starts dancing sort of wild, making me and Julia crack up. She spins so out of control, she makes herself fall, and I give her a hand, helping her back up. She smooths down her dress and adds, “And she said to stand up for myself. She thinks I don’t do that.” Isabella doesn’t look at us when she says that last part.
“Next time she tells you to clean your room, say no. And then when she gets mad, tell her you’re just standing up for yourself,” Julia jokes.
Isabella and I just shake our heads at Julia.
“We all look so cute,” Isabella says. All three of us got our dresses from the same rack at Kohl’s, so we’re dressed pretty much the same. It’s not exactly a fancy dance, but we know enough to dress nice.
Julia snaps pictures of me and Isabella, and then Isabella pulls out her phone and takes more. We all crowd in together to take some selfies.
I wish I had my phone so I could take pictures too. “Let me see them,” I ask Julia, but she nudges Isabella.
“Show her yours,” she says.
As I flip through all the pictures, I notice how plain I look next to my friends. “You guys are so lucky you get to wear makeup,” I say. They only have on eye makeup, but I’m still jealous. Isabella’s is faint, just a swipe of shiny bronze, but Julia’s is bright sparkly blue. It doesn’t seem fair that my friends have different rules about makeup.
I wonder if Hana’s advice about sneaking makeup to school (something I haven’t tried) applies to school dances. I think about Jace being there and how great Isabella looks, and I think about how I still don’t have my phone back, so it would be really stupid to get in trouble . . . and then I end up putting some of Hana’s eye shadow, mascara, lip gloss, and blush into my purse. Not that many girls carry purses in junior high, but I got my period back in elementary school and got caught one day without any “supplies.” It was super embarrassing to have to ask the school secretary to help me out. Now I always have a purse when I don’t have my backpack.
In the car, Julia scoots close to me and asks in a loud whisper, “You gonna ask Jace to dance, Shay?”
“Yeah, right.” I cut my eyes at her.
“Who?” Momma asks, peering at me in the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road.
I knew she would pick up on some boy mention.
“Nobody, Momma,” I say.
“And this nobody is called Jace? What kind of name is that?”
“Momma!”
“I’m just saying . . .” Momma taps her fingernails on the steering wheel and doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.
I should’ve known she was just loading her ammunition.
“Now let me tell you girls something,” she starts, and I bite my sigh way back. “All three of you are too young to be fooling around with boys. Plenty of time for all that.”
“We know, Mrs. Willows,” Julia says in her best, I’m-the-sweetest-most-obedient-child-ever voice.
“You all better know,” Momma says.
“My mom tells me the same thing,” Isabella says.
When we get to the gym, kids are lined up outside, waiting to get checked in. Momma lets us out of the car and says, “I’ll be back at ten.”
I’m so happy she isn’t chaperoning, I almost start dancing right there. But I don’t.
Once we get inside, we head to the bathroom so I can “freshen up.” My eyes look bigger with eye shadow and mascara, which does seem to make my forehead look smaller.
We get drinks from the snack table, and I look around for Jace. I don’t see him anywhere.
Then Julia’s squad comes over and grabs her, pulling her onto the dance floor with them. So much for it being the three of us.
Isabella and I start dancing with each other. My head bops to the music, and I swing around, but that’s not part of my dancing; I’m keeping an eye out for Jace. It never occurred to me that he might not even come to the dance.
Boys shuffle around the edges of the room. Must be hard to be them. They can’t just dance together lik
e girls can. That doesn’t make a lick of sense.
And then suddenly, there’s Jace, and I feel like maybe I have asthma or something because it’s hard to breathe. He starts dancing right next to me. The makeup must’ve done the trick!
But then I realize that although he is dancing next to me, he is actually dancing with Isabella.
It feels like somebody just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on my head. I stop dancing and walk back over to the snack table.
A minute later, Isabella joins me. “Hey,” she says. “You left me.” She’s a little out of breath.
I look back at the dance floor. “Where’s Jace? I thought you guys were dancing?”
Isabella picks up a tiny cup of pretzels. “He was just dancing next to us, Shayla, and then—”
“I know what happened. I was there.” I eye the snack table. Pretzels, goldfish, cookies. It all looks terrible.
“Then why’d you walk off?” Isabella asks, munching on a pretzel.
I can’t believe she can eat at a time like this. “Why do you care?” My voice sounds all trembly, and that makes me mad. “Isn’t he a good dancer? You should’ve kept dancing with him. He obviously wanted to dance with you.”
“But . . .” Isabella stops and looks down into her cup, like the great excuse she might have for dancing with the boy I like might be hiding in there.
Someone touches my elbow.
“Hey, uh, Shayla, you wanna, um, dance?”
I know who it is before I turn around. “Hi, Tyler,” I say. And only because I’m mad and don’t want to stand next to Isabella right now, I say, “Sure.”
The gym has gotten crowded with kids dancing, and Tyler pulls me right into the middle.
All of a sudden, a group of boys runs up shouting, “Command! Command!” at Tyler. I forgot about the stupid game. I cross my fingers quick even though I’m not playing. I don’t think Tyler has anything crossed, but he doesn’t look worried.
If that wasn’t a huge clue, my itchy hands should’ve been.
“We command you to kiss Shayla!” Paul Childress crows.
“But I’m not playing!” I yelp.
“So, Tyler is,” Paul says. “If he doesn’t kiss you, we get to pound him.”
I’ve never liked Paul.
“Yeah, um, sorry,” Tyler says.
I can tell he isn’t sorry AT ALL. My face is blazing.
33
Chapped Lips
Before I can say anything, Tyler kisses me. I’m not talking a peck on the cheek; his mouth is smothering mine.
I don’t really have a lot of kissing experience. Okay. I have no experience. But I sure know this isn’t a nice kiss. It is slobbery, and even though he must’ve just had a mint so at least his breath isn’t bad, his lips are chapped and scratchy. I’m so busy analyzing it, I don’t pull away in a hurry like I should, and instead just stand there, mouth locked with him.
A whistle blows, and then Coach West breaks us apart.
“None of that. None of that.” She looks sternly at us, and I want to crawl under the floor. Then she blows her whistle one more time and walks away.
Tyler runs off, laughing and high-fiving his boys.
I feel like I’ve gone way up high in the Sierras or maybe up in a plane, like my ears are totally clogged up and I can’t hear and my head is heavy.
“Shay!” Isabella says, dashing over to me. “What was that?”
“It was just a command!” My ears won’t pop, and my voice sounds like I’m under water. Maybe it’s all the tears that feel like they’re gurgling around in my throat.
“I thought you weren’t playing,” Isabella says. “Why didn’t you say no?”
“Like you know all about saying no, Is,” I say. My head hurts like someone is squeezing it. I want to sink into a hole.
“Why are you mad at me?” Isabella asks, all shocked as if she really doesn’t know.
I’m not sure what to tell her, but before I can tell her anything, Bernard is standing next to me, asking me to dance, and the night is officially the worst ever.
“Fine,” I tell him. I’d rather dance with Bernard than admit to Isabella I’m mad that she’s so pretty and Jace danced with her.
Bernard frowns at me while we’re dancing. He bites his lip, then opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it again. Finally, he asks, “I saw you with Tyler and all. What’s up with that?”
I step to the left. I step to the right. I snap my fingers and turn around. I do not want to talk about that kiss anymore or ever, ever again.
“Are you guys talking, or what?” Bernard barks at me. “Because I . . . I . . .”
I can’t tell if his expression is angry or sad, so I shrug his question away. I shrug like it’s a dance move I just invented. Angie telling me Bernard might have a crush on me wasn’t any type of good news. If I tell him me and Tyler aren’t talking, does that mean he’s going to try and talk to me? And how could I tell him I’m not interested without making him mad?
Bernard says, “That’s cool,” as if I have actually answered him. But he doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s cool. “You like him?”
No. But Momma says (and says, and says) if you don’t have anything nice to say, just keep your little mouth shut. Saying I don’t like Tyler seems mean. “Uh, Tyler’s nice,” I say.
“Dang” is all Bernard says, but it’s enough. Enough for me to realize I’m pretty dumb not to have noticed that maybe Bernard does like me a little. And maybe hasn’t wanted to punch me. And maybe . . . a shudder goes up and down my back . . . maybe if he had thought of it, he might’ve had someone command him to kiss me. We don’t talk for the rest of the song.
34
Double-Crossed
I tell Bernard I need to use the bathroom, but I really just want to get away so he won’t ask me to dance again. Before I can find a dark corner to hide in, I end up walking right into Julia and her squad.
Stacy starts giggling when she sees me, and she gives Julia a little shove. “Jay, you said she’d never do it!”
Julia’s face gets red.
“Bruh, you should totally thank us,” Stacy says to me.
Julia gets even redder and elbows Stacy.
“Thank you?” I ask. Stacy’s face is all smirky and Julia’s is all embarrassed, and I get it. “It was you? You guys got Tyler’s friends to make that command?”
Julia’s now redder than the spiciest hot wings. “It was just a joke, Shay!” she sputters. “Don’t get it twisted.”
“Right? Besides, you guys make such a cute couple,” Stacy says, sounding like she’s the couple expert. “Didn’t I tell you, Jay?”
“We do not!” I glare at Julia.
“Why’d you kiss him, then?” Stacy asks.
“I didn’t!”
“Sure looked like it,” Stacy says. “I thought you liked him.”
“It was a command and you know it.” My hands go straight to my hips, and I’m so about to let Stacy Chin have such a big piece of my mind, it’ll flatten her, when Julia gives my elbow a tug.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she says.
“It was to me! How could you do that?”
“I thought it would be funny?” Julia says, her voice lifting at the end like she’s not really sure.
My eyes start to burn. “Friends don’t do stuff like that, Jay.” I’m not sure why it bugs me so much that her other friends have a different nickname for her. “So not cool.”
Stacy looks back and forth between me and Julia. “Bruh, seriously, we didn’t even think it would go that far. It was just a joke.” Lynn and the other girls behind Stacy look very uncomfortable. “My bad. And I was just messing around about the couple thing.”
I’m not nearly as mad at Stacy as I am at Julia. Julia’s my best friend. She should’ve known how uncool it was to set me up like that.
“Sorry,” Julia says. She gives me a little nudge and I nudge her back but harder. I’m mad. Like, really, really m
ad.
“Where’s Is?” Julia asks, trying to change the subject.
Being so mad at Julia makes me feel nervous about how I treated Isabella earlier. I probably owe her an apology. This is turning into one sorry night.
Julia glances around and I see her face change. “Oh, uh, she’s over there,” she says.
I turn to the dance floor.
I know by the expression on Julia’s face what I’ll see. The heat in my neck goes all the way to my scalp, and it feels like my ears finally pop. The music and laughter around us sound too loud, and yep, there’s Isabella and Jace. Dancing and laughing and looking like a great couple.
35
Sorry Sleepover
A slow song comes on and I think the long rope of intestines inside me is tying up into one huge knot. I am stuck watching Jace and Isabella like I’m playing freeze tag. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t look away.
Jace looks like he is trying to talk Isabella into dancing, but she shakes her head and then looks around, and even though I’m sure she’s looking for me and Julia, I push my way through the crowd and go over to an empty corner of the gym. I want to be alone. I can’t believe a minute ago I was trying to find Isabella so I could say I’m sorry. I used to think I was super lucky because some people only have one best friend and I had two. But what do I do when my two best friends have both done me dirty?
The bottom row of bleachers is pulled out, and I sit down and stare at the crowd of laughing, dancing people and want to bury my face in my hands.
The slow song ends, and a good fast song starts. Lots of people start singing along to the song and throwing their hands up.
Isabella finds me, and she has Julia with her. Great.
Isabella says, “Come on, let’s dance all together. Just the three of us.”
“Yeah,” Julia says. She holds her hand out to pull me up, but I don’t take it.
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to. You guys go ahead.”
Julia drops her hand, and then she and Isabella stand there for a few seconds. I don’t know what I want them to do, but it isn’t Julia saying to Isabella, “Let’s go.”
A Good Kind of Trouble Page 10