by James Ramos
“Keep me posted,” he said. “Most colleges have to have the scores by January.”
“Will do.” I hung up and sat there. Even if I did decide to retake the SATs, what then? I still had no idea which college I wanted to go to, or even if I wanted to go at all.
Okay, so maybe there was more than a kernel of truth to my being a runner. At the very least, I was a jogger. But I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was lost. That was just Darcy being Darcy.
I didn’t want to think about any of that. Instead, I sank back down on the couch and turned the TV on. There was nothing on, so I went to the shelf and grabbed the first movie I touched—Return of the Jedi, naturally—and popped it in. I was asleep before Luke had arrived on Tatooine.
* * *
I knew I was dreaming. Everything had that surreal tinge to it, that unreal quality. The dank heat made the metallic walls sweat. The air was coarse and sandy. It was too dark to see much, but beneath my feet I heard the whir of repulsorlift engines keeping the ship afloat. I was aboard the Khetanna, Jabba the Hutt’s luxury sail barge. Probably on my way to being fed to the sarlacc.
“They’ve all gone,” said a voice from the dark that sent shivers through my veins. “You don’t have to worry.”
I whirled, snatching the lightsaber from my belt and brandishing it. The bright green blade sizzled to life, and I braced myself.
Standing there was Princess Leia. Or who I thought was Princess Leia, that is, until I took a step closer. And I realized that it was not Leia, but Darcy.
“We’re safe,” Leia/Darcy said, sauntering toward me, “safe and alone.”
I tried to ignore the taut lines of her abdomen and the way her skin glowed in the green light of my lightsaber. One thing was definitely sure: she wore the outfit very well.
“Where’s Jabba?” I asked, my throat tight. “We’ve got to get out of here. We need to rescue Han and the others.”
She slid right up to me and draped her arms around my neck. “They can wait.”
“But I must defeat the Emperor,” I feebly protested.
She stood on her tiptoes and leaned toward me. I closed my eyes just as the hum of my lightsaber died, blanketing us both in darkness . . .
* * *
My body jerked, and my eyes flew open. I was still on the couch, in a cold sweat with my heart beating in my throat, the memory of the dream still lingering in my mind. The movie was still playing. It was the speederbike chase scene on Endor’s moon. It was dark out, but a glance at my phone told me it was barely past seven. I could hear both of my parents upstairs.
I forced myself off the couch and paused the movie. “Oh . . . my . . . gosh . . .” I refused to believe what had just happened. I didn’t know which was worse. The dream, or the fact that the dream hadn’t been altogether unpleasant.
Chapter 12
“Bro, what happened to you?” Lucas asked when I met him at the bus stop the next morning. “You look like you spent all night on a roller coaster.”
I massaged the side of my head and yawned. “‘Sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life.’ Virginia Woolf,” I added when he gave me a funny look.
Lucas took a long swig of his Mountain Dew. “How long did you skate yesterday?”
“I didn’t. How’d studying go?”
He shook his head. “I officially hate the English language. Do we really need a thousand ways to say the same thing? I’m taking up Mandarin Chinese so I can just draw what I want to say.”
“You know, I have a couple of thesaurus, a Chicago Manual of Style—sixteenth edition, mind you—and a book of idioms you can borrow if you like.”
“Keep your stinking thesaurus, bookworm,” said Lucas as Jake came rushing to meet us, holding two portable mugs. He passed one to me.
“No cream, four teaspoons of sugar, just like you asked,” Jake said.
I held the hot cup in my hands and inhaled the strong scent of coffee. “You are a lifesaver.” For some reason my parents only bought decaf, which was useless to me.
He shrugged and sipped at his own cup. “Yeah, well, you look like you need it.”
“Hey, Jake, why doesn’t Bridget ever catch the bus with us?” asked Lucas.
“She drives,” Jake said wistfully. “Well, her brother usually drives. She rides with him. Or Darcy.” Right after he said her name he glanced apologetically at me.
Last night’s dream—or, nightmare, as I’d decided to label it—came back with full force. When I’d asked Jake to bring me coffee this morning, I told him I’d pulled an all-nighter with my Playstation. I wouldn’t dare tell anyone the truth: that I was so weirded out by the nightmare that I’d had a hard time getting back to sleep. I wasn’t sure what had prompted it, but I hoped it never happened again.
When I walked into Advanced English, I was immensely relieved to see that as usual, Darcy was not yet there. But right before the bell rang, she appeared in the doorway and went to her seat.
Regrettably, she was not dressed as Princess Leia.
I spent the entire class period trying to ignore her, but not out of my usual distaste. It was awkward enough sitting next to the girl I’d just dreamed about; I didn’t want to compound the feeling by looking her in the face. I forced myself to think about Gabby, with her short shorts and her dimples and her bouncy hair. I bet she’d look great in a Princess Leia costume. She’d be much more likely to wear one, too. I made a mental note to ask her if she was into cosplay. That thought alone got me through most of the day.
There was a small crowd gathered outside the theater when I got there. Jake was among them, and when he saw me, he smiled and rushed over.
“I’m going to have to change my name,” he said with a laugh.
I eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
Jake cracked up. “That face is priceless. Here, see for yourself.” He pulled me through the crowd and I saw that the excitement was about the great big cast list taped to the wall. I scanned the names.
Jake Gardiner—Romeo Montague
“Congratulations, Jake!” I shouted. “I knew you’d get the part!”
Jake gave a sheepish grin. “It was a surprise to me. First rehearsal is Wednesday.”
News of the casting travelled fast. When Jake and I reached the cafeteria, Bridget was there waiting for him, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Romeo and Juliet is my favorite play,” she shrieked, “I’m so proud of you; you’ll be the perfect Romeo.”
Jake blushed. “Why didn’t you audition?”
“I’d make a horrible actor,” she said, “I can’t lie to save my life.”
“Actress,” said Darcy, who until now had been standing silently beside her.
“What’s that, Darcy?” asked Bridget.
“You’d make a horrible actress. Which is totally true, by the way.”
Bridget either ignored her or was unaffected by what she’d said, because she started skipping circles around Jake. “We have to celebrate! We should go somewhere after school. What do you think? Hey, Darcy and I were going to the movies; come with us?”
“Actually,” Jake said apologetically. “Elliott and I sort of have plans tonight.”
Plans that involved skating, no less.
Bridget was right about being a horrible actress. The disappointment was plain on her face. She looked like her dog had just died. “Oh . . .” she said, “Maybe some other time, then.”
Jake looked just as crushed. I couldn’t take their matching sob faces. “You two go ahead.” Skating was nothing we couldn’t do later.
“Why don’t you come, too?” Darcy asked.
I looked behind me to see if she was talking to someone else. No one was there. “Me?”
She sighed impatiently. “No, the door behind you. Of course you.”
Bridget lit up. “Nice thinking, Darcy! How about it, Elliott?”
I thought long and hard. I still wanted to keep
an eye on those two, but as always, it meant being in close quarters with Darcy, which wasn’t an appealing prospect. But she’d invited me. Personally. What was that about?
“Why not?” I conceded. Jake’s well-being was worth my discomfort, I supposed.
“Yes!” Bridget shouted. “This is going to be so much fun, yeah?”
Jake nodded, smiling at her.
“But wait, what about Calvin?”
“Calvin is not coming,” said Darcy in such a definitive tone that it startled me. “I can only fit four in my car.”
“We can take mine,” Jake offered. “I’ve got a van.”
Yeah, a van that was older than we were. Apparently Darcy had been introduced to the monstrosity, because she turned her nose up—I wasn’t quite sure it was a conscious gesture—and said, “If we must. But Calvin still isn’t coming.”
It was settled. After school, the four of us were going to see a movie. And for the rest of that day, the word runner kept rolling around in my mind . . .
* * *
“Don’t forget to bring mints,” Mom said. “The last thing you want to do is kiss a girl with dragon breath.” It was the third time she’d reminded me in five minutes.
“I won’t be kissing anyone,” I groaned. I knew it had been a mistake to tell her about tonight. She’d gone into overdrive ever since the word “date” had come out of my mouth, even though it had been prefaced by, “It’s not a—”
We were all in the living room. Jake was pacing by the front door, glancing at his phone every five seconds. Dad was propped in the recliner, tentatively watching Mom with an amused and exasperated look on his face, and I was leaning against the table with my head resting in my hand, trying—and failing—to ignore her.
“Which movie are you going to see?” Mom asked for the second time.
“Whichever one they pick,” I told her, same as before.
“Scary movies work best for dates,” she said. “Studies say so.”
“I’d very much like to see those studies,” Dad said dryly.
I grinned. Darcy didn’t strike me as one who scared easily anyway.
“Have you got enough money?” she asked. “You know movie snacks cost an arm and a leg. Maybe you should smuggle something in.”
“I’ve got enough, Mom.”
Finally, it seemed she realized that I wasn’t in the mood, and she switched to nagging Jake. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?” she asked.
“He doesn’t,” I answered for him. “Bridget’s just a friend. Sort of.”
“Clearly not of the platonic variety,” Dad said with a small chuckle.
I tossed him a glare. “Whose side are you on?”
“What do her parents do for a living?” he asked Jake, ignoring me.
“Something in telecommunications, I think,” Jake answered quietly.
“You should have her father put in a good word,” said Mom.
“They’re here,” said Jake. I leaped up, thankful that we could escape, yet anxious about what we were escaping to.
“Later,” I called over my shoulder as I followed Jake out the front door.
Darcy and Bridget were just getting out of their car, a gleaming yellow Mustang. “Hi, guys!” Bridget exclaimed as soon as she saw us.
“Hey,” Jake waved.
“You kids have fun!” Mom yelled from the doorway. “And keep it PG!”
I sighed, and called, “Will do, Mom. Thanks for the reminder.”
I thought I saw a small grin on Darcy’s face. It vanished the second she laid eyes on Jake’s van.
“You sure you don’t want to take my car?” she asked, eying the old van like she wasn’t sure it was safe.
“She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts,” said Jake as he pulled the side door open. “I’ve made a lot of special modifications myself.”
I laughed.
Darcy waited. “Such as?”
Jake cleared his throat when he realized that she didn’t get the joke. “Well, none, actually. That was a quote from a movie . . . never mind.” He started around to the driver side. “All aboard then.”
“After you,” I said to Darcy. She grimaced, and very carefully crawled into the van. I followed her in, and once we were all settled, Jake started her up and we pulled off.
The nearest movie theater was at the Arizona Mills Mall in Tempe, about twenty minutes away. We spent the whole trip in silence. At least, Darcy and I did. Both of us stared out our respective windows except for the few instances where I peeked over at her, mostly just to make sure she hadn’t fallen out of the car or something. Up in front, Jake and Bridget took turns playing with the radio, gushing over songs they both liked or artists they knew. They had nearly the exact same taste in music. Big shock there.
It took us ten minutes to find a decent place to park once we got to the mall, and another ten minutes to figure out which movie to see once we got in. When we finally went to buy our tickets, the usher—a guy with serious acne who couldn’t have been much older than we were—took one look at the four of us, grinned, and asked, “So is this, like, a double date?”
All four of our answers came at the same time. Bridget’s was an excited “Yeah!” Jake gave an “Er . . .” while both Darcy and I responded with a frantic, “No!”
He gave us our tickets and offered us a confused, “Enjoy your show.”
We headed in and stopped in front of the concessions stand. Bridget and Jake got in line, while Darcy and I hung by the back, staring up at the menu. Neither of us said a word. I glanced sidelong at her, and she did the same. We both stared at the menu some more.
So far, things were going swimmingly.
“Do you want popcorn?” I asked.
“Do you?” was Darcy’s quick reply.
“Why’d I even bother asking?” I muttered, and joined the line. Only for her to follow me. “Do you do that on purpose?” I asked.
She gave me an innocent face. “Do what?”
I turned to face her. “Try to annoy me.”
She almost smiled. “Maybe.”
“Nice.” I bought a bag of popcorn—and paid double what it was actually worth—and waited for the server to drizzle extra butter over it.
“Don’t act like you don’t do the same to me,” Darcy said after she bought her own bag.
I couldn’t argue. “So we like getting on each other’s nerves. What kind of screwed-up relationship is that?”
“Could be worse,” she said with a nod toward Jake and Bridget, who were hunched next to the condiments stand giggling together. “We could be like those two.”
We filed through the dark to find seats and ended up up on the very top row, right underneath the projector. Jake and Bridget sat next to each other, and Darcy sat down before I could get past them, leaving me no choice but to take the chair next to hers, just like I had been hoping not to do. As I settled into my seat, our arms touched over the armrest.
We glared at each other. “I was here first,” she said.
“I called dibs,” I retorted.
“I didn’t hear that.”
I pushed on her arm, but she didn’t move. “Doesn’t change the fact that I called it.”
“Well, I’m not moving.”
Fine. “Neither am I.”
She shrugged. “Fine. We’ll just have to share it then.”
I propped my feet up on the chair in front of me. “Fine.”
I was relieved when the movie started. In the dark, I could almost forget that Darcy was right next to me. Almost, but not quite, because I was distinctly aware of her arm, which was still touching mine. It was by far the longest period of physical contact the two of us had ever had. I felt her slightest twitch, every time she shifted in her seat or moved her hand, and I struggled to keep mine as still as possible.
Sitting next to her wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She wasn’t the type to talk while the movi
e was playing, which I was grateful for. Even though we were both eating popcorn, I didn’t hear a single crunch from her the whole time.
“That wasn’t all that great,” said Darcy as we all filed out of the theater when the movie was over. Naturally.
“I thought it was awesome,” said Bridget. Again, no surprise. “What’d you think?” she asked Jake.
He just nodded and said, “Eh, it was alright.”
“I liked it,” I said, mostly so as not to put too much of a damper on Bridget’s mood.
“That makes two of us!” She reached up to give me a high-five. “Hey, you guys wanna walk around for a little while?”
“Can’t,” said Darcy, “I have homework to do.”
“Aw, but its Friday,” Bridget pouted, “You’ve got all weekend to worry about that.”
But Darcy was adamant, so we headed back out to the van. I suspected Darcy’s eagerness to leave had more to do with her distaste for people than for her concern with her homework.
Out in the parking lot, Bridget and Jake ran ahead, chasing each other around the other cars.
“Thanks for coming with us,” said Darcy out of the blue.
“Um . . . sure,” I told her. “Why did you invite me, anyway? Just out of curiosity.”
She gestured ahead to the happy couple as they tossed popcorn kernels at each other. “You think I wanted to play third wheel all by myself with those two?”
“I could see how that would be a little overwhelming.”
She nodded. “And a little gross. Makes you wonder, though. What it must be like.”
“I guess.”
She eyed me. “You guess?”
“Well, I never thought of it like that.”
“How do you think of it?” she asked.
“How do you?” We fell into another one of those impasses we seemed to have a knack for finding. “You know, I bet you’re awesome at staring contests.”
She broke off our confrontation and walked ahead. “I am.”
Ironically, neither of us made eye contact for the duration of the ride back to my house, and when Jake pulled into the driveway, I was grateful to see that the porch light was off, which hopefully meant that Mom had already gone to bed.