Gimme a Call

by Sarah Mlynowski

  He raises an eyebrow. “You play golf?”

  “No. But I’m starting a girls’ team.”

  “Why do you want to start a team when you don’t even play?”

  “My dad plays. Kind of …” I stop talking before it gets too confusing. “So you see, there’s nothing I can drop. Besides, all the activities will help my college applications.” I press my lips together. Enough about me and my boring college obsessions.

  When did I get so boring? When did I forget to enjoy the bench? And those who sit on it.

  “What about you? Are you doing any activities? I saw you trying out for baseball.”

  “You did, did you?”

  I blush.

  “Then you saw my spectacularly awful performance. I didn’t make it. But I’ve been playing with some friends in town, so it’s no big deal. Oh, and I’ve been thinking of taking up the drums. I kind of suck at the moment, but I’m having fun.”

  “Good for you. You’re very well rounded. Colleges will love you.” Great, there I go again.

  “I haven’t given college quite as much thought as you have,” he says with a smile. “Although my dad would love it if I went to school in Montreal. That’s where he lives.”

  “Does Montreal have good schools?”

  “Definitely. McGill and Concordia are there. And I always have fun when I go back. That’s where I was born.”

  I lean my chin into my palm. “Really? So now you live here with just your mom? Or is she remarried?”

  “Just my mom.”

  “When did you move here?” I suddenly have a lot of questions for adorable Bryan. I want to know all about him.

  “After I finished grade six—or sixth grade, as they say here. When my mom and dad split, my mom decided to come here with me.”

  “I bet with a name like Florence, you expected this place to be a little more glamorous. Like they’d serve gelato and fresh mozzarella in the cafeteria.”

  He laughs. “I guess.”

  “Do you get to see your dad?”

  He shrugs. “He’s remarried now, has a new baby.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “I go up about once a year.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t imagine only seeing my dad once a year.”

  “Long distance sucks, no?”

  “No?”

  He laughs. “It’s a Montreal thing.”

  Ivy does it too. I guess she got it from Bryan. I wonder what else she learned from him.

  “So, do you find the long distance with Ivan tough?” he asks. “I don’t think I could ever do a long-distance relationship.”

  “It can be difficult,” I say. I don’t want to talk about my imaginary boyfriend. “But I do know how it feels to miss your dad. My dad’s a workaholic, so we don’t spend too much time together.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Not as much as it must have sucked to move in the sixth grade, no?”

  He smiles. “It wasn’t too bad. I met Jerome. He’s a good guy.”

  “Oh! Jerome.” I know I’m supposed to unfix him up with Joelle, but how do I do that when I haven’t even fixed them up?

  “What about him?”

  I don’t know how to say it without sounding weird. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Is it about Joelle?” he asks.

  “No,” I say firmly. “Why? What about Joelle?”

  “That Jerome likes her. I think he’s going to ask her out. What do you think? Is she into him?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “She isn’t.” There we go! Easy peasy!

  “Oh,” he says, blinking. “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t like him,” I continue. “Sorry. You should tell him not to ask her out.” Ivy owes me one.

  “He’s gonna be bummed,” Bryan says with a frown.

  I wave my hand. “They’re not a good match.” He’s gonna dump her anyway. “Now back to you. If you’re from Montreal, how come you don’t have an accent or anything?”

  “My dad speaks English. I did go to French immersion when I lived up there. If you ever need help in French, I’m your man.”

  I straighten up. “You’re helping me? I’m the one who’s supposed to be helping you.” I glance at my watch. We have only ten minutes left. “Should we get to work?” Not that I want to be talking American history. I’d rather be learning the history of Bryan.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “I’m not doing that badly in American history. In fact, I don’t even have Fungas.”

  “Really? So why did you sign up for tutoring?”

  His cheeks turn red. “I wanted to spend time with the tutor.”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  chapter thirty-nine

  Thursday, June 5 Senior Year

  I’m waiting to be picked up. And waiting. And waiting some more. Where is Joelle? It’s already ten to eight. I hope nothing bad happened.

  I wait another five minutes and then run back inside to call her cell on my house phone. Where are they? School is going to start any second! I really need to buy a new phone. Not to replace my magical one, but to be able to communicate with people who, um, aren’t me.

  “Hello?” Joelle says.

  “Hey! What happened to you?”

  Silence.

  “Joelle?” I say.

  “Who is this?” she asks.

  “It’s me! Devi!”

  “Um, hi, Devi. How are you?” Her voice sounds kind of weird. Formal.

  “I’m worried! You okay? You’re usually here by now.” First period is going to start any second. We have to get to class!

  I hear the school bell. She’s there already? Did she just forget to pick me up?

  “Where’s ‘here’?” she asks.

  What’s going on? Why did she not pick me up? Why does she sound so strange? Like she doesn’t know why I’m calling her.

  Like we’re not even friends.

  Oh. My. God.

  “N-never mind,” I stammer. “Sorry, Joelle. I called the wrong number.” I click off the phone, stare at it for a moment, and then run upstairs to my room.

  The pictures are gone. The frames are still there, but instead of shots of me, Tash, Joelle, and Karin, there are shots of me and Celia King.

  chapter forty

  Thursday, September 22 Freshman Year

  I’m walking to the cafeteria very, very slowly. I know something is going down. I don’t know what or when. But I know it’s bad.

  Ivy gave me an earful this morning.

  “What did you do?” She was seething.

  “Nothing!” I told her. I really had done nothing. After our tutoring session was over, I said good-bye to Bryan and that was it.

  And anyway, I don’t think what happened had anything to do with Bryan, because if it had, his pictures would have been up there, not Celia’s.

  “Well, you ruined everything,” she huffed. “Prom’s tomorrow and I have no idea who I’m going with or who’s in my limo. I’m probably doubling with Celia and Bryan. Or maybe I’m their third wheel. Thanks a lot.”

  “But I don’t even know what I did,” I whimpered.

  “Figure it out and fix it.”

  Eeeeeeep.

  “I can’t do everything!” I screamed, finally losing it. “I can’t get straight A’s and be on yearbook and tutor and be in the play and start a golf team and keep my friends! I’m tired!”

  “Toughen up,” she barked. “Don’t be such a baby.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to do anything,” I moaned. “All you do is hang out with your friends.”

  “Until they’re no longer speaking to me.”

  “You wouldn’t even have friends if it weren’t for me,” I reminded her.

  “Fix it,” she snapped before hanging up.

  Everyone was normal this morning. Karin, Tash, and Joelle were all hanging out by our lockers and laughing.

  Nothing weird.

  I had American history with Karin. We sat to
gether. All normal.

  I hate this feeling, though—that at any moment, my entire world is going to explode. I have no idea where the bomb is hidden, but I know it’s somewhere and it’s going to blow up in my freshman face.

  I don’t see my friends in the caf, which makes me nervous, so I buy a grilled cheese, chips, and juice and then head downstairs to yearbook.

  Boom.

  Tash, Karin, and Joelle are all huddled together outside the door, whispering.

  Tash’s arms are crossed, Karin looks like she’s about to cry, and Joelle’s eyes are flashing.

  “Hi, guys,” I say warily.

  “We have to talk to you,” Karin says, and motions me into the huddle.

  “Just tell me the truth,” Joelle snaps. “Do you like Jerome Cohen?”

  My jaw drops. “What? No!”

  “Don’t lie,” she says, her voice wavering.

  “I don’t like him! I swear!”

  Joelle puts her hands on her hips. “Then when you found out he liked me, why would you tell Bryan that he shouldn’t ask me out?”

  Uh-oh. My stomach twists. My mouth opens again, but I don’t know what to say. What reason could I possibly have?

  “Bryan told Jerome, and Jerome told JT, who told Celia, who told me, so don’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

  I don’t try to deny it. I can’t.

  “I think it’s because you like him yourself,” Joelle continues. “That’s why you kept trying to get me to like Nick Dennings instead. And why you wouldn’t go out with Bryan. That’s so sick, Devi. You could have just told me you liked him. You didn’t have to lie to Bryan.”

  My mouth is dry. She’s never going to forgive me.

  I look up at Karin, hoping she’ll defend me, but the hurt in her eyes tells me something else. That she believes it. That she’s thinking about Anthony Flare—the guy I went out with in middle school even though I knew Karin liked him.

  I don’t know what to tell them. I need Ivy to tell me what to do.

  So I say nothing.

  Joelle shakes her head. “I think I’ll skip yearbook today. I’m not really in the mood.” She takes off down the hall, Tash and Karin close behind.

  chapter forty-one

  Thursday, June 5 Senior Year

  “You have to tell me what to do,” she says after spilling the whole sorry saga. It’s after school and I’m back home in my room. Frosh is supposed to be at rehearsal, but instead, she’s in the school bathroom talking to me.

  Eeeeeeeep!

  Sure, now she’s asking for my advice. When we’re almost entirely out of battery. Any minute now, the phone is going to die. There are no bars left. Zero.

  I can’t believe she didn’t tell me right away about Bryan’s weaseling his way into tutoring. What was he doing at tutoring, anyway? Bryan never went to a tutor his entire high school career. Obviously, he was just going to get close to her. To me.

  “We don’t have time for these kinds of screwups,” I snap. I’m sitting cross-legged on my carpet, all my tests spread out on the floor around me like a blanket. “You need to focus; we’re out of time.”

  I’ve tried everything. I called the manufacturer. I called the phone company. Nothing works. The phone is not charging. Our time is up.

  “But what am I focusing on?” she asks, sounding panicked. “School? Friends? Staying away from Bryan?”

  My heart is hammering against my chest like I’ve just run a marathon. “School! You have to focus on school!”

  “But what about Karin and my friends?”

  Eeeeeeep!

  “Forget about them for now,” I say hurriedly. “I need to give you the answers to all the tests I have before the phone dies.”

  “But what will I do?”

  “You’ll have to ask yourself, what would Ivy do? ’kay? Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Good. Now don’t talk, just write.”

  “But—”

  Eeeeeeep!

  “We’re going to start with the big ones. Junior-year math exam. It’s multiple choice, so I’m just going to read out the answers. Ready? C, B, A, D, A—”

  “Wait! I’m never going to be able to remember a whole bunch of letters! I need the questions!”

  “There’s no time! Take the answers!”

  “But I need to get something to write on.”

  Is she kidding me? “Hurry up!”

  “I’m in the bathroom! I don’t have a pen on me! I just have eyeliner!”

  “Use that!”

  “And what will I write on? Toilet paper?”

  Eeeeeeep!

  I want to bang the phone against my head. “This is why I told you to carry the notebook with you at all times! Don’t you listen?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—it’s in my schoolbag in my locker! Please stop yelling at me! I’m doing the best I can!”

  I take a deep breath. “Use the toilet paper.”

  “Seriously?”

  “If it’s your only option, then yes. I’ll start again. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Eeeeeeep!

  “C, B, A, D …”

  I run through the math exam, and then a chemistry exam, and then four additional midterm exams before the beeping starts coming every two seconds and we can barely hear each other.

  “What about the French test tomorrow?” Frosh shouts. “Do we have time for that? I’m still a disaster in that class and I need your help.”

  I flip through the mess of papers on my floor. “Hold on, let me find it. Here it is, here it is! Ready? The answer to the first question is—”

  Eeeeep! Eeeeep! Eeeeep!

  The phone goes dead.

  chapter forty-two

  Thursday, September 22 Freshman Year

  All I hear is quiet.

  Oh, no. “Hello?” I squeak. “Hello?”

  “Are you talking to me?” someone on the other side of the bathroom door asks.

  “No. Sorry!” I’m sitting on the closed toilet seat, a heap of scribbled-on toilet paper across my lap.

  She’s gone.

  What am I going to do now? How do I know who to be friends with? Who to go out with? What’s going to happen next? And what am I going to do about the French test?

  The phone vibrates in my hand.

  Yes! It’s her! She’s back! She’s figured out how to save us! I snap on the phone. “Thank God!” I gush.

  “What a nice hello,” the voice says. Not Ivy’s. A boy’s voice. Bryan.

  “Hi,” I say, startled.

  “Hi,” he says, and I can hear his smile through the phone. “What are you up to?”

  “Oh, I’m—” I look around the stall. “I’m still at school.”

  “Yeah? Me too. I was looking for you, but I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m just at my locker,” I lie.

  “I’m at your locker.”

  Busted. “You got me. I’m in the bathroom.”

  He laughs. “What are you up to this afternoon?”

  Watching my life fall apart? I wonder if he could help me with the Jerome situation. But how could I possibly explain it to him? “I’m supposed to be at play rehearsal,” I say instead. “But I should really be studying for a French test I have tomorrow.”

  “Do you need help?” he asks. “I am bilingual.”

  “Oh, um …” I don’t know! Would I like his help? How am I supposed to know what to do?

  “Meet me in the media room,” he says. “I’ll help you.”

  “Right now?”

  “Would you rather spend the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom?”

  I giggle. “Nah, it’s kind of stuffy in here.”

  Ivy did say that keeping my grades up was my number one priority. Without the answers to the test, I might get another F. And Bryan’s the only person I can turn to. I can’t talk to Ivy anymore, and my friends aren’t speaking to me. Who else is going to help me?

  “Hello? Devi? Are you coming?”


  But I’m not supposed to spend time with Bryan. I fidget with the lock on the door. Then I let go. Then I stand up. Then I sit down.

  I have no idea what to do.

  chapter forty-three

  Thursday, June 5 Senior Year

  Ahhh! My acceptance letter morphed the second the phone died. Harvard is gone. I’ve been accepted by NYU, which might be a top school, but it’s not number one, and worse, it’s not offering me any scholarship money.

  What happened? I pace back and forth around my room. What do I do?

  I can’t breathe in here. It’s too hot. The room feels smaller. Did it shrink? Did Devi do something to make my room shrink? I need fresh air. I grab the phone and my purse and scream to my dad that I’m taking a walk. I slam the door behind me.

  I sit on my front steps and inhale a big gulp of air. What am I supposed to do now? I wring my hands.

  Bryan’s bright blue Jetta pulls into my driveway. My stomach twists. What’s he doing here? I hug my knees into my chest.

  He rolls down his window. “I’ve been trying to call you. Your phone still isn’t working.”

  He’s talking to me. What does that mean? Why is he talking to me?

  “It’s broken,” I say.

  “I tried to find you after class, but you bolted out of there.”

  “Stuff to do,” I say. I don’t know where to look. I don’t understand what he’s doing here.

  “Come for a drive,” he says.

  Huh? “I don’t know.”

  His forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Why not?”

  I look down at my wrist. The bracelet glistens back up at me. What does this mean? What did Frosh do? Did she fall for him? Did we go out? Are we still—my heart leaps—together?

  I hurry down the steps and get into his car.

  chapter forty-four

  Thursday, September 22 Freshman Year

  I’m sitting across the table from Bryan in the media room.

  He’s so cute. He really is.

  I can’t stop smiling. So I won’t get an A. I can accept that. But I’m pretty sure I won’t get another F. Bryan’s being really helpful, and I’m kind of following what he’s saying—when I’m not staring at his lips.