The Boy Project

by Kami Kinard

  Thank you, tightwad parents, for denying my request for a webcam! My eyes were overflowing and my heart was thumping so wildly that I’m sure Tabs would have seen it trying to burst through my sweater. Plus, I know my burning face must have been the color of my tom-tom heart.

  Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend to be happy for your best friend when she is the reason your heart is breaking? It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done — even harder than the time I got stuck having to help my eighty-seven-year-old great-grandma fasten her bra, which has, like, fifteen hooks. And it’s really hard to fasten them, by the way, when you’re closing your eyes and trying to imagine that you are somewhere — anywhere — else.

  But I had to pretend to be happy even though what I really wanted to do was call her a boy stealing FBF (Former Best Friend, not to be confused with BFF). I wanted to hate her. But I couldn’t. Tabbi had no idea that I liked Evan, and telling her now would only make her feel bad. Plus, it wouldn’t change anything. He still liked her . . . not me.

  Why hadn’t I told her how I felt about Evan during one of those LONG conversations when she was blabbing about Alex? WHY? WHY? WHY? Tabs wouldn’t have looked twice at Evan if she knew I liked him.

  I will be the Spinster of Spring Valley Middle School. I’ll be voted Most Likely To Die Alone. I’ll be the eternal bachelorette, without an entourage of good-looking guys rounded up by television producers for me to pick from.

  Tabs talked on and on about how great Evan is. She didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t talking. It gave me a chance to compose myself, but shouldn’t she have noticed that her BFF was silent? Yes! She should have! I finally found my voice enough to ask if she was sure she didn’t still like Alex. I wish I hadn’t because she said, “I thought I did. But Alex was just an illusion of love. Evan is the real thing. I don’t think I’m really Alex’s type. I was wasting my time.”

  Great. Now she figures this out. I didn’t know whether to scream or puke. I think if you do both at the same time, your head might explode or something. I might give it a shot though. At the moment, I’d prefer an exploding head to an exploding heart.

  Thursday, January 11

  First period

  When I got to school, Tabbi and Evan were all pretzeled together, before the first bell even rang. I’m going to try to go home sick.

  Third period

  Mrs. Hill said I didn’t look sick to her. I had to go back to my seat.

  Lunch

  Spending whole lunch period in library to avoid cafeteria! Yesterday it would’ve thrilled me to sit near Evan. Not today.

  Only guy in the library is Jonah Nate Stewart. He has a big stack of Civil War books spread out on a table. Last year it’d have been Revolutionary War books. His dad’s a captain in the Marines, which explains his haircut and love of war books but not his body.

  He’s here. I’m here. So here it goes — even though the thought that I might end up with someone like Jonah Nate is depressing.

  Oh no. Jonah Nate just caught my eye and is motioning for me to come look at something. This could be worse than watching Evan and Tabbi at lunch.

  Ten minutes later (Seemed like an hour)

  Before I even reached Jonah Nate’s table, he was spouting facts from the book he was waving in his hand. “Hey, Kara, did you know that the Hunley was the first successful combat submarine?” he loud-whispered, even though there was no one else around. “And it was powered by men? And that it sank off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina, with all eight crew members still on board?”

  I shook my head, pulled a book from the shelf, and tried to look absorbed by page 72. Jonah Nate didn’t take the hint.

  “And one of the men, Lieutenant Dixon, carried a lucky gold coin that had saved his life in the Battle of Shiloh? The coin was given to him by his sweetheart. You could still read the words he’d carved into it when they recovered it from the Hunley over a hundred years later!”

  That got my attention. Was the powerful golden coin a gift from Dixon’s soul mate? I pointed to the book clutched in his hand and asked if the information about Lieutenant Dixon was in it.

  “Yeah!” said Jonah Nate enthusiastically.

  I asked if I could borrow the book.

  Jonah Nate didn’t look so enthusiastic anymore. “I don’t know. . . . It’s from my personal collection.”

  I figured any reading I could do about soul mates is going to help my research, so I promised to return his precious book the very next day if he’d let me borrow it. (As if I’d really keep a book about the Civil War lying around.)

  So here I sit with a book about the Hunley, hoping to find Lieutenant Dixon’s name in the index so I can just go straight to the pages about him. I don’t have time to read the whole darn thing. And really, who’d want to? Besides Jonah Nate, I mean.

  Fifth period

  Evan has something written all over his hand. In Tabbi’s handwriting. I’m trying to read it. Even though I don’t care what she wrote at all, I really do.

  There, he’s raising his hand to give an answer for the question that Ms. Sabatino just asked: “What do you call the force that occurs when one object rubs against another?”

  Evan said, “Friction.” His hand said Property of Tabbi Reddy. Blech.

  Ms. Sabatino said Evan was right. I say it depends on what the objects are. If one object is Evan Carlson, and the other object is Tabbi Reddy, I’m pretty sure the answer is disgusting or betrayal or something.

  If you saw me right now, Mrs. Hill, I’m pretty sure you’d say I look sick!

  Bedtime (According to my parents. For once I think they’re right.)

  Phone is ringing. I know without looking at caller ID that it’s Tabbi. There’s no way she’d miss calling me today. It’s what a best friend does when she has a new boyfriend.

  Tabs: Where were you at lunch? Evan and I looked for you.

  Me: Oh. Well. I decided to go to the library.

  Tabs: The library! The only person who hangs out there during lunch is Jonah Nate.

  Me: (Don’t I know it.) Well, I had to do some research.

  Tabs: For what?

  Me: (Saying the first thing that pops into my head) Science fair.

  Tabs: I thought those surveys we took were your project.

  Me: They are, but . . .

  Tabs: Hey! Will you be able to let me know if Evan and I turn out to be compatible?

  Me: (Crossing my fingers) No. It was a blind study.

  Tabs: Oh.

  Me: I’ve gotta go.

  Tabs: Wait! I need to tell you something.

  Me: Hmmm?

  Tabs: Thanks.

  Me: For what?

  Tabs: For leading me to Evan’s table. And for getting detention. (She actually giggled!) The day I went and sat by him by myself was the day Evan realized he liked me.

  Me: Glad I could help. Can we talk later? I’ve felt sick all day and I feel even worse now.

  Tabs: (Sounding confused) Feel better, then. . . .

  Me: Bye.

  I didn’t lie to Tabbi. I really did feel sick when I hung up the phone. Even sicker than before, because something was suddenly clear to me. That stupid prank I pulled with Chip had cost me my crush.

  Friday, January 12

  Lunch

  Today promises to be just as bad as yesterday. Tabbi wrote the same dumb words on Evan’s hand. Again. I couldn’t face lunch with them. Again. So here I am in the library. Again. Actually, I had to come here because Jonah Nate’s not letting me forget my promise. Every time he saw me this morning, he said, “Do you have my book, Kara? You promised.” Unfortunately, he seems to reserve his loud-whispering for the library.

  The last time he cornered me about the dreaded book, we were in the hallway right in front of Maybelline and The Sponge.


  Maybelline said, “What book, Kara? How to Be Popular in Ten Easy Steps?”

  Unfortunately, Jonah Nate is deaf to sarcasm. “No!” he yelled. “A book about a Civil War submarine!”

  This made it worse, not better, because Maybelline and The Sponge grabbed each other and giggled. “Keep reading books like that, Kara. That’ll improve your social life,” sputtered Maybelline.

  “Except that she doesn’t have one,” added The Sponge.

  Then they walked off holding each other up. Apparently, my borrowing a book from Jonah Nate is the funniest thing either of them has ever heard.

  It’s okay to be furious with someone for saying something that’s basically true, isn’t it?

  I took my anger out on Jonah Nate. “You’ll have your precious book by the end of lunch. Do NOT ask me about it again!”

  So. I’m poring over this book, wishing I’d just gone ahead and read it last night. But last night I kept finding better things to do. Like creating a bead, button, and fishing line curtain to hang across the door of my room. I really got into making it, probably because whenever I’m concentrating on transforming something boring (like fishing line) into something amazing (like a beaded curtain), my problems (like Tabbi and Evan) seem far, far away.

  I guess every girl needs some way to escape her problems. Julie runs from hers. I mean, she runs every morning no matter what. But I’ve noticed that she also goes running if she’s just had an argument with Mom or something.

  She’s lucky that she’s picked a way to escape that actually does her some good! All of those hours escaping have netted her a MVP award and a bunch of shiny track trophies. Unfortunately for me, you don’t win room-enhancing trophies by escaping into a good book or a craft project. On the other hand, the beaded curtain is technically room-

  enhancing. Plus, getting away from the idea of Tabbi and Evan for a few hours was great. But now it’s back to reality. And reality wants his precious book back. Better get to reading.

  Ten minutes later . . .

  Okay, I just finished reading all about Lieutenant Dixon and his soul mate, Queenie Bennett. I know Lieutenant Dixon is dead. But if he weren’t, here’s what his information would look like:

  Even though researching a dead person in the stillness of the library is creeping me out a little bit, this stuff has raised some serious questions that need to be included in my research.

  Question 1: What if the person destined to be your one and only true soul mate dies before you have a chance to get married?

  Queenie Bennett and Lieutenant George Dixon were destined for each other! The gold coin she gave him acted like a powerful mini shield when it was in his pocket. It stopped a bullet! Clearly, the coin was protected by Queenie’s love.

  Over a hundred years later — when they pulled the Hunley out of Charleston Harbor — that gold coin was still next to Dixon’s body. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.

  Question 2: Can a person have more than one soul mate?

  Seven years after Dixon died, his true love married someone else! What if the question “Who is my one and only soul mate?” has a multiple-choice answer . . . and more than one answer is correct?

  Question 3: What if the universe got out of whack and your one and only true soul mate was Lieutenant Dixon or some other person from a century or so ago and you NEVER even had the chance to find him?

  It makes my head hurt to think about it. I mean, there are so many more possibilities for finding your soul mate if life works like it does in Prada and Prejudice, which is a book about a girl who stumbles into nineteenth-century England and then falls in love with someone there. It’s hard enough trying to find potential soul mates among my current classmates, never mind the entire world population, past and present. I’m giving Jonah Nate his book back right now!

  Sixth period

  Tabbi asked me if I wanted to walk to Burger King with her and Evan after school to get a milk shake. I didn’t.

  Saturday, January 13

  After dinner

  There’s nothing like a little trip to the mall to lift a girl’s spirits, even if the goal of the trip is to get new running shoes for her sister the track star. Because guess what else there is at the mall besides impact-resistant shoes with flexible cushioning?

  Cute guys that you can’t see at your school! Cute guys who could possibly be your soul mate! Hey — you never know. I took notes on one who works at A&F.

  See, I was in there checking out tops while Julie was trying on shoes. Suddenly, I felt this hand on my arm. I turned around and the guy of my dreams was saying, “Can I help you?”

  I wanted to say, “Yes, you can!” But instead I mumbled that I was just looking, and hurried out of the store because I could feel my face turning red. But I felt something else, too — an all-over tingle — especially when he touched my arm. What if that’s a feeling that only your one and only true soul mate can give you?

  Sunday, January 14

  After lunch

  Bebe Truelove dished out another helping of worthless advice today along with an ad for breath spray. Here’s the e-mail I just received:

  To: Kara M

  From: BebeTruelove

  Subject: Tip #2

  Dear Soul Mate Seeker,

  A guy likes a girl who listens to him when he talks. When having conversations, remember that your ears are just as important as your mouth.

  Tip #2: Be a good listener.

  Good Luck in Love,

  Bebe

  Try Sweetene Herbal Breath Spray!

  Going out for a romantic dinner? Be prepared for close conversation with Sweetene Herbal Breath Spray. Just a few sprays of this natural solution, developed by our top lab technicians, will keep your breath fresh and fabulous! Click here to order now!

  ♥ Sweetene ♥

  (Must be 18 years of age to order.)

  See why I think this advice is worthless? When I dragged Tabbi over to Evan’s table, I hardly talked at all. I was an excellent listener! I listened to Evan. I listened to Tabbi. I listened to Tabbi talk to Evan. And look what it got me. A front-row seat at the Best Friend Steals Crush show.

  Tuesday, January 16

  Fourth period

  So Mr. DeLacey has a sub today. Chip caught my arm as I was coming in the door. (It didn’t create an all-over tingle.) “Operation Class-List Swap?” he suggested. He wiggled his mediocre eyebrows. I couldn’t help laughing.

  But I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. After all, the last time I participated in one of his pranks, it cost me these things:

  the guy of my dreams.

  the ability to tolerate my best friend’s conversations.

  my chance for total happiness.

  Right. I really had nothing left to lose. I gave Chip the thumbs-up.

  He sat in the last seat of the last row so he could be the one to switch the list out before carrying it up to the sub. We’d started with normal-looking names like Candace B. Fureal. Moved on to Marcus Absent (totally appropriate) and ended with our joint favorite: Monk E. Butts. (Okay, there were some better ones, but we knew we’d get in trouble for using those.)

  I pretended to be getting something out of my desk when Chip walked up to the front to turn in the list so that no one would notice me trying not to laugh. Nobody did. When I thought about how successful I was at going unnoticed, it was kind of depressing. . . .

  After school

  At the beginning of sixth period, Tabbi left the woodwind section during warm-ups to come sit with me in brass. We often use this time to catch up because no one can hear what we’re saying with the horns tooting, drums banging, and woodwinds squeaking all at once. Anyway, Tabs wanted to know what was wrong. I’ve been trying to act normal around her, bu
t it’s hard. Knowing it’s not her fault that Evan likes her instead of me somehow doesn’t help.

  I can’t even blame him for that. There’s a lot to like about Tabbi! She’s loyal. And she always gives straight-up answers for whatever questions you ask. She has great hair. It’s thick and blond, but she has the confidence to wear it short. I guess Evan sees these great things, too.

  But why couldn’t he see all the great things about me? Like how I make almost all A’s. I mean, I could be the money-earner and he could live a life of leisure as my soul mate! He’ll never get that with Tabbi. Trust me.

  And how I’m good at creating things. I mean, not many people have the imagination to turn an Altoids tin into a mini suitcase with masking tape, shoe polish, and a piece of wire. And I love to laugh! I’d laugh at all of his crazy comments and stupid jokes. Why couldn’t Evan have seen this? Why? Why? Why?

  I decided to tell Tabbi the truth. But not all of it. I told her it was hard for me to not have a boyfriend, especially now that she did.

  “One day the right guy is going to see how great you are.” Tabbi hugged me. And I appreciated it. But I wish we’d been paying more attention to the podium. Because Mr. Waldorf stepped up and everyone fell silent and put down their instruments just as Tabbi added, “Don’t worry, Kara, you’ll get a boyfriend soon.”

  Bus ride home

  “I’m sorry!” Tabbi said as I climbed up the metal steps and through the folding door.

  I couldn’t answer her. I knew I’d cry, and I was humiliated enough already.

  By this time tomorrow the whole school will know that I want a boyfriend. I’ll look desperate. And okay, I am desperate. But does everybody have to know?