by Shana Norris
Zac pumped his fist in the air in a celebratory motion. I laughed as I followed him back toward our study area, while he bounced down the hall ahead of me.
But still, I noticed he never did answer my question about the state of happiness in his relationship.
Chapter 8
“Any other new business?” I asked, my gaze scanning over the few remaining members of the math club. Math club wasn’t exactly one of the hot school clubs to join, and the membership had gradually decreased over the years. It had gone down again this past school year, with two people moving away and one getting kicked out after being caught cheating on his algebra mid-term. While the math club might overlook cheating in history or English, we seriously frowned on cheating in a math class. Kind of defeated the purpose of being in the math club.
Since the school year was only five weeks away from being over, no one was paying attention in our meetings anymore. The air conditioner in the classroom where math club had been assigned to meet never worked right and even with all the windows pushed as wide as they would go, heat blanketed the room. Everyone more interested in constructing paper fans than in listening to anything I had to say, except for two girls who were obviously texting each other.
No one ever respected the math club president. I sighed and started tidying up my notebook and pen.
“I have new business,” Hannah, who was seated on my right, spoke up. My vice president pushed back her chair, making a screech loud enough to wake the freshman sleeping in the back row, and stood, clearing her throat. “As you all know,” she started, “I am in the running for junior class queen.”
“Not this again,” Molly moaned. She stuffed her notebook into her bag and scowled in my direction. “I’m not taking notes on this, by the way.”
I shrugged at her, indicating that I didn’t care. Junior class queen wasn’t exactly official math club business.
Hannah tossed her shiny brown hair over her shoulder. “Anyway,” she said, ignoring Molly’s groans, “the voting begins on Wednesday. The jars will be placed in the front hall that morning. Look for the one with my picture, of course.” She flashed a bright smile around the room as if someone were taking her picture at that moment. One thing Hannah had always been good at was buttering up the crowd with her sweet act.
“Remember how the voting works. Each nickel, dime, and quarter counts as a vote for the candidate, but each penny will take away one vote. All of the money will be collected by the student council and used for projects to improve our school next year. So please, gather up all those coins hiding under your couch cushions and get ready to vote for the candidates that represent the best of our school’s integrity, intelligence, and ambition. Thank you.”
Hannah sat down primly, as if she had delivered a rousing speech to her constituents. It was hard to tell if anyone had even listened, judging from the fact that people were still texting, sleeping, or else packing up their bags in anticipation of the meeting’s end.
“Thank you, Hannah,” I said in an even tone. It was hard being nice to her, but rumors of a war between the president and vice president would cause a scandal in math club.
On the other hand, that could raise interest in the club and up our membership...
A thump on the door caused every head in the room to whip around to find Zac Greeley pressed against the narrow slit of a window above the doorknob, his cheek flat against the glass. He slid down the window slowly, in a long, drawn-out fainting gesture.
I couldn’t help giggling, but I caught Hannah’s eye roll as she turned away from him.
“Is there any other business?” I asked, swallowing down the laugh that bubbled in my throat when Zac pressed a sign he’d made of notebook paper against the window. He’d written in big letters, “MATH CLUB IS DISCRIMINATION AGAINST THE NUMBERS-CHALLENGED!”
“Don’t forget about the carnation sale,” Hannah told me.
“I haven’t forgotten the carnation sale,” I said. “Everyone is well aware of when the carnation sale is. It’s the same time every year, last week of school.”
Hannah tossed her hair back, ignoring Zac’s new antics, which were parading back and forth in front of the door with his notebook paper sign held high. “Well, you hadn’t mentioned it,” she pointed out. “I’m only doing my duties as vice president.”
Hannah hated that I had stolen the presidency of the math club from her in the election last year. She was probably itching to prove she could run math club better than I could.
“Everyone, carnation sale. Last week of school. Same rules as last year. Sell a flower to the students to send to someone else. Five dollars per flower. Proceeds to be used for next year’s club activities. Got it? Good. Meeting dismissed.” I wasn’t going to give Hannah another chance to butt in and take over the meeting.
As soon as those words were out of my mouth, everyone sprang to life and hurried out of the room. Zac made his way in once the rush of math club members had passed. He grinned and waved at me before heading over to Hannah.
“You need to run against Hannah in everything she does,” Molly told me. “I like seeing her with that prissy look whenever she’s not in charge. Hey!” Her blue eyes grew wide as she looked at me. “You should run for junior queen. I’d totally clean out every drawer in my house for loose change to vote for you. I’ll bet we could get a lot of other people on your side too.”
I shook my head. Though I tried to have plenty of extracurricular activities and achievements for my college applications, running for class queen did not interest me at all. Work and everything else I was already doing kept me too busy to focus on campaigning right now anyway.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” I said.
Hannah and Zac’s discussion behind me floated toward my ears. It wasn’t that I was trying to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing.
“I don’t understand why you have to act so...” Hannah stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“What?” Zac asked. “Why do I have to act so what?”
Hannah sighed. “Will it kill you to be serious about anything for once in your life?”
But Zac wasn’t letting go. “What were you going to say, Hannah? Why do I have to act so...?” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him staring hard at her, his body tense. “Say it. You’ve obviously thought it before now.”
Hannah slung her backpack over her shoulder and looked at him. “Fine. Why do you have to act so stupid?”
Now I didn’t even try to pretend I wasn’t watching the conversation. Zac looked as if he’d been slapped. “Just because someone isn’t as good as you are in school doesn’t mean they’re stupid,” he said in a low voice.
My cheeks flamed as I thought about how I’d always thought of Zac before the economics project. Unmotivated. Lazy. Class clown. And yes, maybe even stupid.
But I couldn’t believe Hannah had said that to his face.
“I know that,” Hannah snapped. “But when a person doesn’t apply himself, he comes across as stupid and does a disservice to himself.”
Zac pulled at the sides of his hair. “Is it possible for you to talk like a human teenager for once?”
“If you don’t like the way I talk, maybe you should stay away from me,” Hannah told him, one hand planted firmly on her hip as she stared back at him.
In my head, I silently egged Zac on, willing him to tell Hannah exactly where to go and free himself of her forever. Zac and Hannah’s relationship was crashing to a fiery explosion right in front of me. In a few minutes, Zac and Hannah would be no more.
Molly’s elbow dug into my ribs. “You’re about to lose your chance to get to Costa Rica,” she whispered.
A sense of panic set in. Molly was right. If Zac dumped Hannah right now, it wouldn’t be because of me. Hannah would never pay me the rest of the money she owed me unless I’d fulfilled the terms of our agreement.
“Hey, Zac,” I said, not really believing that I had opened my mouth. “Do you want to meet at t
he Rose Castle tonight to work on our project?”
Zac and Hannah turned toward me. Even Molly stared at me, her gaze flickering back and forth between all of us. Zac looked dazed, as if he had forgotten exactly where he was.
“What?” Zac asked, shaking his head slightly to clear away the confusion of the moment.
“Our project?” I smiled at him as if nothing were wrong. “I thought we could meet tonight at the Rose Castle and work on it.”
Hannah gathered up the rest of her things and walked toward the door. “I have to go.”
He watched her leave, staring at the empty hall for a few seconds until he turned back toward me. “Um, I can’t tonight. I have to work at my dad’s shop. How about tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “I’m working tomorrow. Tonight is my only night off until the weekend.”
Zac snapped his fingers. “Hey, I know. You can come over to the shop tonight and we can work on the project there. It’s usually pretty quiet during the week. Most of our business is on weekends. You can sit at the front counter with me. If you’re lucky, I’ll even teach you how to make keys.” He grinned.
Molly jabbed a finger into my side, but I ignored her. “Won’t your dad get upset about me being there?” I asked.
Zac shook his head. “He’s not inside the office much. He’s usually out on calls or else in the workshop out back. It’ll be fine, as long as I’m there to run the register.”
“Okay,” I agreed. He gave me the address of his dad’s shop and then checked his cell for the time.
“I gotta run,” he said. “I’m supposed to be there in five minutes, actually.”
I nodded to him. “I’ll meet you there.”
He said good-bye before dashing out the door, seeming to be in a much better mood than he had been when talking to Hannah. Molly’s nails dug into my arm as she bounced up and down.
“That was close,” she said. I had filled her in on all the details about the breakup plot—except, of course, for the part where Hannah had threatened to tell Molly about Elliott and me. “I thought for sure Zac was going to dump Hannah right then, without your help. But now you can go romance him in the locksmith shop. I wonder if he’ll taste like keys when you kiss him?”
I peeled her fingers off my arm and shot her a glare. “I am not kissing him. I can win him over in other ways.”
“With what? Your stunning personality?” Molly asked, rolling her eyes. “Face it, Avery, the only thing you have going for you is your cute smile. If Zac spends too much time with you, he’ll realize you’re kind of miserable sometimes.”
My forehead crinkled into a scowl. “I thought you were supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am,” Molly assured me. “I can scare people off too. That’s why we get along so well. But this is different. You want Zac to like you, not to run away screaming in the other direction.”
I knew I didn’t welcome people with open arms into a circle of lovey-dovey hugs, but the fact that Molly thought I was a miserable person made a twisted knot form in my stomach. I fiddled with the strap of my backpack as I walked, biting my lip and staring at the floor. Was this payback for trying to keep her from going out with Elliott? Maybe I had let my guard down too much with her. Maybe I had trusted too much that she wouldn’t hurt me. I hated the sting of tears in the corners of my eyes.
After the falling out with Hannah and Elliott, I’d spent all of eighth grade distancing myself from the rest of the kids in school. I talked to them only when necessary, but I never hung out with anyone on weekends. I became so good at protecting myself that by the time ninth grade started, everyone had given up on speaking to me.
But then Molly came along and somehow she found a way through the walls I’d built around myself. I’d become soft, I realized. I had trusted too much and opened myself up to being hurt again.
I hugged my arms tight across my chest and held my shoulders back, lifting my chin.
“Well,” I said in a cold tone, “I’ll be sure to be bubbly and chirpy around Zac, since my real personality won’t win him over.”
Molly let out an exasperated huff. “Don’t get touchy, Avery. You know you’re not exactly welcoming and warm.”
I shrugged, trying to act as though her words didn’t affect me. “I have to go.”
“Remember what I said,” Molly told me. “Win him over. Charm him. Seduce him!”
Thank goodness it was so late in the afternoon that the halls were empty and no one was around to hear Molly tell me to seduce Zac Greeley.
Chapter 9
When I pulled up in front of Greeley Lock & Key, a small brick building with a sign shaped like a house key hanging over the front door, I could see Zac inside through the big plate glass window. He stood behind the register, nodding his head and bouncing around as he hung keys on a giant pegboard on the wall. He danced in the space between the counter and the wall, spinning circles and doing crazy disco moves mixed with what looked like the Macarena, as if he didn’t care that anyone driving or walking by could see him.
I sat there in my car in front of the store for a long time, watching Zac dance around in his own little party inside his dad’s shop. It was hard enough forcing myself to do the Hot Diggity Shuffle a couple times a week, and yet here Zac was dancing as if he never wanted to stop. How could he dance so freely without worrying about being interrupted by someone walking in the front door? What would it be like to feel that carefree?
When I stepped inside Greeley Lock & Key, I had expected to be greeted with a blast of loud, fast-paced music from the way Zac still danced around the room. But instead, a tinkling of soft muzak met my ears.
The bell over the door chimed when I walked in and Zac turned toward me, still dancing away. He grinned wide and gestured toward the pegboard behind him.
“Hey,” he said. “Just doing a little work. Hanging new key blanks.”
I raised an eyebrow at him as he launched into the Running Man. “Do you always dance while you work?”
“Sure,” Zac panted. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Only when someone insists on seeing the Hot Diggity Shuffle.”
Zac looked at me as if I were the crazy one. “You need to dance more often,” he said, pointing a key blank at me. “Come on, let’s see your moves.”
I shook my head. “No way.”
“Come on.” Zac moved from behind the counter and danced his way toward me. “A little disco, maybe?” He rocked his hips back and forth, pointing one hand toward the sky. “Or the Robot?” His arms and torso twisted around with stiff movements for a moment before he grinned at me again.
“How about homework?” I asked, tapping my bag. “Economics class, remember?”
“Oh, I see.” Zac nodded, a smug smile on his lips.
“What?”
He shrugged and returned the handful of key blanks to a box on the counter. “Nothing. Just that you can’t dance.”
“Just because I don’t want to dance doesn’t mean I can’t,” I snapped.
Zac hopped up onto the counter, kicking his legs back and forth. “Sure. All talk and no action.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “I am not dancing here in your dad’s store to prove I can.”
“Then I stand by my statement that you can’t dance.”
The way he smiled at me made me furious. I took jazz classes for six years when I was a kid. I could dance. But I didn’t want to, even if doing so would wipe that stupid grin off his face.
I unzipped my bag and pulled out the business notebook. “We have a matchmaking business to run, remember?”
“Tell you what,” Zac said suddenly. “If we ace the economics project, you’ll dance for me. Deal?”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. And what are you going to do for me if we ace the project?”
“What do you want me to do? Teach you all my signature dance moves?” He launched into the Cabbage Patch, rolling his arms in wide circles.
“I’ll pass, thanks.
” I leaned against the old, battered counter, next to dusty boxes of key chains and those magnetic key boxes you stick under your car to hide a spare key.
“Come on,” Zac said. “It’s not a fair trade if you don’t get something in return. What do you want me to do? Name your price.”
I should have said I wanted him to dump Hannah. A quick and easy end to this whole mess I’d gotten myself into. But I couldn’t. The words got lost somewhere between my head and my lips.
What came out instead was, “Teach me how to not be miserable.”
Where had that come from? I clamped my mouth shut, wishing I could pull the words back in and hoping maybe Zac hadn’t heard.
But he had. “No one can be miserable when they’re doing the Electric Slide.” He launched into a fast-paced rendition of the dance, sliding across the dingy floor and beckoning to me to join in.
I shook my head. “You have to ace the project before you’re getting me to dance.”
Zac’s shoulders drooped as he sighed. “The untalented always have plenty of excuses to keep from dancing in front of anyone.”
“Untalented?” I asked. “You’ve never seen me dance, so you can’t make an assumption of my skills.”
“Then let’s see your moves.”
My hands planted firmly on my hips, I scowled at him and said, “I’m not dancing for you. Especially not here in your dad’s store, where anyone could walk in and see me.”
“Okay, okay,” Zac relented. “Project first. Dancing later.”
We worked on our project for a long time, my hand trying desperately to keep up with all of the ideas flying out of Zac’s mouth as he spoke. Mr. Freeman had given us our first random event we had to deal with as a company: an unexpectedly large tax bill that was three weeks overdue. Zac’s ideas for making up the money ranged from setting up a speed dating event for which we’d charge tickets to a bikini car wash match up.
“That’s so sexist,” I told him. “A bunch of girls in bikinis, parading around with soap and water. Of course you’d come up with that idea. You are male.” I shot him a disgusted look.