Swept Up Page 4

  I couldn’t believe Jonah. Could he not give me anything?!

  “Cool,” I said, race cars doing laps in my stomach. Had he asked about me? Confided in Jonah about me? Said anything? Was anyone in this town talking about me?!

  “And in case you’re wondering,” Jonah said, turning his eyes to me, “he did ask about you.”

  “I wasn’t wondering,” I said quickly.

  “Okay,” he said with a grin. “Then you don’t want to know what he said, I guess.”

  I know violence is never the answer but I punched him in the arm—lightly. “Jonah Goldman, you better tell me every word!”

  He laughed. “Relax! He basically did what you just did. ‘So, how’s Mickey? Have you hung out with her lately?’ Man, I hope your conversations with each other are better. You two are boring me to death.”

  Our conversations were just fine, thank you very much, so I didn’t care about Jonah’s opinion on that particular subject—I was too busy trying to suppress the goofy smile pulling itself up on my face. Kyle had asked about me. Which meant that when he wasn’t around me, he was thinking about me like I was thinking about him. I wonder what he thought.

  As we walked toward school, I wondered if today would be the day Kyle asked me to the dance. Or I would ask him. Or we just assumed we’d go together? The dance was in five days and although Giancarlo had been helpful with lots of other things, he’d never given me a firm answer on this subject.

  “Do you think he’s going to ask me to the dance? I mean, did you guys talk about the dance at all?” I asked.

  “Dances,” Jonah sneered. “A favorite subject of dudes.”

  “Did you just call yourself a dude?”

  He shifted his eyes to me and said, “We didn’t talk about it.”

  Fine, I thought. I could wait to see what would happen. I was patient like that.

  After being agonizingly patient all morning, Kyle caught up with me in the halls on my way into the caf. “Thank god it’s Monday, right?” he teased as we fell in step with each other.

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes, acting like I was all cool, but truthfully my heart had picked up its pace. “My favorite day of the week.”

  As if his plan was to make my heart beat even faster than it already was, Kyle pushed his dark hair—with the softest, subtlest curls—off his forehead.

  “Did you do anything fun this weekend?” he asked.

  “Hung out with my friends,” I said, not mentioning friends minus one. “Nothing too exciting. What about you?”

  He shrugged. “About the same. Wow, we’re really partiers, huh?”

  I smiled. “Big-time.”

  “Got any tests this week?” he asked. I swear, every time he looked at me, I felt like he was seeing something that no one else saw. My heart went from racing to a near-dead stop. I was starting to sweat.

  “No, thank goodness,” I said, telling myself to be cool. “I swear they gave us all these intense projects three weeks in a row, and this week—nothing. Why can’t the teachers get together and share what they’re all doing so they don’t pile it on us at once?”

  “Totally agree,” Kyle said. “Last week I had four tests, and three of them were on the same day. They should have, like, a chart or something in the teachers’ lounge where they post their tests and projects due.”

  “Why can’t teachers think logically like we do?”

  He shook his head wearily and said, “It’s a travesty.”

  We turned the corner that led to the cafeteria, and our hands brushed. I pulled my hand away, hoping he didn’t think I was trying to get him to hold my hand(!!). He quickly glanced at me like maybe he thought I had, so I crossed my arms over my chest in a totally unnatural way. I could feel the sweat bubbling on my upper lip—super attractive, I know. I reached up casually and tried to wipe under my nose, then hoped he didn’t think I was trying to pick my nose. I dropped my arms back down by my sides.

  We walked beneath a huge banner that stretched wall to wall reading LET’S DANCE! FRIDAY AT 7.

  Kyle looked up at the sign and said, “Um, so. I, uh . . .”

  “Yes?” I replied.

  “I like that top you’re wearing,” he said, glancing briefly at my top. He quickly averted his eyes. Did he just look at my boobs? Like there was anything there to see! I crossed my arms back again, just in case. “It’s, um . . . I like the way the neck part is.” He motioned to his own neck.

  As embarrassed as I was, I thought how very sweet it was that he noticed my top. At the moment, it was better than any mention of the dance. Jonah wouldn’t notice something I was wearing if it had speakers on it and announced, “I AM A PRETTY, MARIGOLD BLOUSE!”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You can borrow it anytime. Just let me know.”

  He grinned and a blush crept over his entire face as he said, “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

  “It’ll look good on you! I think this particular shade of yellow is perfect for your coloring.”

  “Knock it off,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his. I have to say that the bump was just as good as any hand-holding. At least for now.

  In the cafeteria, Kristen and Lizbeth were sitting at our usual table waiting for everyone. They both looked exceptionally cute today—Kristen wore a dress with a tiny flower print, and Lizbeth had on a colorful silk scarf that she wore as a thick headband. They always looked good, but today I was a little suspicious.

  “Hey, guys,” I said as Kyle and I sat down next to each other instead of across from each other like we used to. More confirmation that he was more than just a friend, I guess.

  “Hey, Mickey,” Kristen said, biting into an orange slice and looking over at Tobias and Matthew’s table.

  Opening up my packed lunch, I asked the girls, “Something going on with you two?”

  “Mickey,” Lizbeth said, straightening her headband and glancing at the boys’ table. “You should know by now that something is always going on with us.”

  Kyle and I grinned. “She’s right,” I said to him.

  “And as usual,” Kyle said, “I don’t want to know.”

  Jonah finally came over to the table but Eve was nowhere in sight.

  “Hey, man,” he said to Kyle, leaning his hands on the table but not sitting down. He had a handful of napkins clutched in one hand. “We still on for after school?”

  “Like Donkey Kong,” Kyle said.

  Sometimes it saddened me to know that I knew these video game references the boys made. Especially vintage video game references.

  “Cool,” Jonah said, pushing back from the table. “See you then.”

  “Uh, hello!” I said, stopping him before he bolted. “Can you not say hi to the rest of us?” I motioned to Kristen and Lizbeth, who hadn’t even noticed him.

  “Sorry,” Jonah said. “Hey, Mickey.”

  “Where’re you going? Where’s Eve?”

  “Er, we’re, uh . . . we’re actually in the hall studying for English. I just dropped by for some napkins.”

  “Really?” I said. Eve and I had the same English class. “Is there some test or project coming up?”

  “No,” Jonah said. He started tearing a little at the napkins. “Just, you know—general studying. So I better get back. See you guys later.”

  “See you after school, man,” Kyle said as Jonah dashed out of the cafeteria like he was chasing someone who just stole his skateboard.

  Wow, I thought. My mind filled with the image of Eve’s face and the look she gave me at Farm Fresh. Then I remembered what Jonah had said on our walk to school—that Eve hadn’t mentioned me at all.

  I tried to pretend that this didn’t mean anything—as if Jonah and Eve both just happened to not eat in the cafeteria on occasion. But the look Kyle was giving me—brows raised and c
runched together like he was watching a commercial for the Humane Society— made me feel terrible all over again.

  I sighed.

  “You okay?” Kyle asked.

  Kristen and Lizbeth looked over and it was clear they’d pulled their attention away from their boys long enough to check on me. “Yeah, Mick,” Kristen said. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to bother them with this mess or jeopardize their friendships with Eve by dragging them into it. “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “Bull,” Lizbeth said.

  “Yeah, bull,” Kristen agreed. “Now spill it.”

  When I didn’t say anything, Lizbeth said, “We know it’s about Eve. You can tell us, Mickey.”

  “Fine,” I said, glancing at Kyle. I guess I really did want to talk about it. “I saw Eve last night at Farm Fresh with some other girl. Someone I’d never seen before. I think Eve saw me, too, but she didn’t even say hello. It was awkward times ten.”

  “Well,” Lizbeth began, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe she didn’t see you. Eve isn’t the type to give the cold shoulder.” I gestured to Eve’s empty seat at the table. “Not when you’re standing right in front of her, I mean. She’s not petty like that.”

  “Yeah,” Kristen agreed. “That’s more of a move I’d make.”

  I smiled the smallest smile, shaking my head at Kristen.

  “I’m just saying,” she said.

  “Do you want us to talk to Eve for you?” Lizbeth asked. “Just to get things started?”

  “Break the ice before we break that mystery girl’s bones,” Kristen said.

  “Kristen!” Lizbeth said. “Give it a rest. Hey, do you have any idea who she was with?” she asked me.

  “No clue,” I said. “I even asked Jonah but he just said ‘some friend.’”

  “I’m sure she’s no one,” Kristen said.

  “Yeah,” Kyle agreed, chiming in. “And even if she is your new replacement, I doubt she’s as cool as you.”

  I froze, staring down at my sandwich. He’d said it, my greatest fear. Being replaced. I picked up the sandwich and took a bite, but it felt like chewing on paper. I gnawed it around in my mouth, pretty sure I looked like a cow. Gross. If I cared any less I would have just spit it out.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” Kyle said. He turned to face me, touching my arm briefly before pulling away. “That was an awful attempt at humor. I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid.”

  I forced the food down and said, “It’s okay.”

  “No, it was dumb,” he said. I glanced up and saw Kristen and Lizbeth pretending not to watch but totally watching. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Okay?”

  I looked at Kyle, whose brown eyes showed how he truly felt—worried and sorry. He looked so eager for me to forgive him that I couldn’t help giving him a half smile. “Mr. Smooth.”

  He smiled back, and this time when he touched my arm, just above my elbow, he left his hand there for one assured moment, giving me a little squeeze.

  “Oh my gosh,” Lizbeth said suddenly, breaking into our moment. I turned to see what she and Kristen were looking at. Tobias and Matthew were eyeing the girls from their table. “This could be it.”

  Kyle dropped his hand, and we both looked at my friends. “It, what?” he asked.

  “The dance!” Kristen said as if everyone should know the answer. “You are aware that there is a dance at the end of this week, aren’t you? We’re going to give them a chance to ask us before we ask them.”

  “Come on, Kristen,” Lizbeth said, standing up slowly. Kristen stood as well. “They’re motioning us over. Mickey, if you want, we’ll do some digging, find out who that girl Eve’s hanging out with is.”

  “Yeah,” Kristen said. “And we’ll hate her if you want us to.”

  “I don’t want you to hate her,” I said. “I don’t even know her.”

  “You know what I mean. Okay, we gotta go,” Kristen said, her eyes focused on the guys.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said.

  Once Kyle and I were alone, I wondered if the subject of the dance would come up. I kind of hoped it would and he would just ask me, or confirm that we were going together, or do whatever it was that was supposed to happen.

  “So,” Kyle began, breaking the silence. “Are they a little more . . . excited than usual? It’s just a school dance, right?”

  “Yeah, just a dance,” I said. “But you know Kristen and Lizbeth. They don’t need much of a reason to get . . . excited.” I smiled at Kyle’s care with his words when talking about my friends. I wouldn’t be surprised if he flat out called them crazy man-eaters, but I did appreciate that he didn’t.

  I waited for Kyle to say more about the dance but he didn’t. As we finished up, I wondered what he’d meant when he said, “It’s just a school dance.” Did that mean he didn’t want to go? Or that he didn’t know if I’d want to go? I sighed again. It was only Monday and I already wished the subject of our spring dance would go away.

  CHAPTER 6

  On my way out of school that afternoon I spotted Eve standing to the side of the front steps, staring at the street where parents parked, waiting to pick up their kids.

  Eve had kept up her polite ignoring of me through our English class, which is right after lunch. That’s how it seemed, anyway. Between the look, the not coming to lunch, and the not saying hi in class, I figured it was a pretty safe guess. I reminded myself that even though I understood her wanting to take a step back from our friendship, I didn’t want her to step so far back that we were no longer friends. So I took a deep breath, ignored the voice in my head that told me to run the other way, and walked toward her.

  “Hey, Eve,” I said. “Waiting for your mom?”

  She flicked her eyes at me, then looked away as if she were startled to see me. “No, my mom is at my grandma’s today,” she said.

  She didn’t explain any further. I hated the awkwardness between us, but at least she had said something to me.

  Finally, she looked at me again. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to sound too eager but really wanting to scream, “YES!” I hoped she’d ask about the dance or maybe tell me she thought it was me yesterday but wasn’t sure and she was sorry if she came off as rude.

  She put her hands in her pockets and asked, “Do you have to do an invention project for your science class?”

  “I—” What? Just school stuff? “No,” I said, deflated. “Why?”

  “I have Ms. Howard,” she said. “And get this—we have to come up with an invention by Friday.”

  “That’s rough,” I said. It may not have been best-friend conversation, but she was talking to me. In a casual, normal, friend kind of way. It was better than nothing.

  “I know. Like she thinks we’re all Einsteins or something. Or Thomas Edisons . . . or whoever invented a lot of stuff.”

  I smiled. “I think they were both pretty smart.”

  “Well, see what I mean? I don’t even know who the great American inventor is and I’m supposed to come up with my own invention by Friday? Is she kidding?”

  “That does seem kind of fast,” I said, because it did. “Maybe you can do something like, um . . . you could invent a way to keep your cereal from getting soggy in the morning. You know how once you pour the milk you’re, like, committed to eating the cereal in less than two minutes? If there were some drops or a cream or something that you could add, then you could let your cereal sit for hours before eating!”

  Eve stared at me for a moment, clearly unable to answer. Perhaps it was because I had just suggested something insane. What was I thinking? I was just so eager to be helpful—eager, or maybe desperate. Take your pick.

  “Thanks,” she said slowly. “
That seems pretty complicated and like something I’d have to get approved by, like, the FDA or something.”

  “Right,” I said. “Of course.” Because duh.

  “This just seems like something that should be for a college graduation project or something. Don’t you think?”

  “Totally,” I said. “I once had to do this project on the founding fathers, and I completely forgot it was due until—”

  “Hey, guys.” We heard a voice coming up to us. We turned and I saw the girl from Farm Fresh strolling up the lawn, a straw fedora covering her short, shaggy hair. “What’s up?” She looked me up and down like she was inspecting every inch of me. She wore a pale-yellow mesh top with a white tank beneath.

  She had cute style, even though I didn’t want to admit it. Who was she? This friend-stealing, style-savvy girl?

  “Hey, Marla,” Eve said to her. “Glad you found your way over here okay. She walked here from my house on her own,” Eve explained to me.

  I wanted to say, Big deal. It’s like four blocks. I also wanted to say, And who are you? but I managed to keep my mouth shut. Clearly I was feeling defensive.

  “She’s visiting her cousins for the week. And me, of course,” Eve said.

  The girl—Marla—looked from me to Eve and back again. She was probably wondering what I was wondering—did Eve plan on introducing us?

  As awkwardness built, she finally gave me a little wave and a smile and said, “Hello.”

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so rude!” Eve said, snapping to. “Mickey, this is my friend Marla from Ridgeley.”

  “Hi,” I said, smiling.

  “Marla, this is Mickey,” Eve said.

  Marla’s smile faltered. “Mickey?” she said. She turned to Eve. “The Mickey—”

  “So!” Eve said, cutting her off and brightening up a bit too much. I felt sick to my stomach. What had Eve told her?

  “You’re from Ridgeley?” I said, even though Eve had just said it. My mind was racing—Eve hadn’t introduced me as her friend like she had for Marla. She’d just said Mickey.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Eve and I were best friends until she ditched us for this place.”