Текст книги "I Love Him, I Love Him Not "

Автор книги: Ella Martin

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ally stormed into the art studio at the end of lunch a couple of days later. “I have had it,” she declared, waving her arms in dramatic fashion. “Kyle is still missing half of his marks, and I don’t think he’s even learned our number.”

I glanced up at her for half a second before I returned to my work. I’d made the Chicago poster my top priority, even taking Mr. Jorgensen up on his offer of skipping the European history quiz so I could work in the art studio while Mr. Collins taught art history in the adjoining classroom. As fourth period turned into lunch, I stayed where I was. I was just grateful for a quiet place to work, even though I wasn’t completely hidden from everyone.

“Opening night’s in, like, four weeks,” I said, frowning at my work. “I thought you guys were approaching the home stretch.”

“We’re supposed to be,” she replied, “but ‘We Both Reached for the Gun’ is a mess. You know, the ventriloquist act? He has to get the blocking right and know the lyrics or it’ll look like I don’t know what I’m doing.” Ally was agitated. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her this upset.

“Have you talked to Bianca? She knows Kyle pretty well, right?”

Curls bounced everywhere as she shook her head. “I haven’t seen her. Just came from rehearsals. Mandatory lunch rehearsals! Can you believe it? All because stupid Kyle can’t get this stupid number right.” She pulled a little bag containing half a sandwich from her backpack. “How’s the new poster coming?”

I scowled. “Awful.” I pointed to the original version I’d pinned to a bulletin board. “That’s what it used to look like. I got the lettering right, but now I’m trying to do something different with the vignettes in the letters, but the people’s faces all look weird.”

“So take them out.”

“I can’t take out the vignettes. That’s the best part of it.”

“No, the faces.” She looked up as if in thought while she chewed. “You know how costume designers always show their stuff on models without faces?” she said. “Like in their portfolios or whatever. Can you do something like that?”

I picked up my eraser and carefully removed details from the figures’ faces in the first C. I sat back, added some shadowing to the empty ovals, and tilted my head to study it. “This may actually work, Katz.” I grinned at her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” The bell rang, and she shoved the uneaten part of her sandwich back into its bag. “Are you talking to Jake yet?” she said, shouldering her backpack.

I shoved my pencil case into my bag and zipped it shut. “I’m not not talking to him.”

“So that’s a ‘no.’” She fell in step with me as we left the studio. “Wait. Is this still about that whole ‘going out with Clover’ thing?”

I didn’t say anything and fought to keep my expression neutral. It was easy for her to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. Her emotions weren’t the ones all jumbled up.

“You’re not going to get any answers unless you actually have a real conversation,” she said. “I have three brothers, you know. They don’t talk unless you talk to them first, they won’t ask questions unless you ask them, and they don’t know anything unless you spell it out for them, preferably with small words.”

“But how could he not know?” I wondered aloud.

“’Cause he’s a guy? I mean, they’re tragically bad at reading minds.” Ally smiled and waved to some people as we passed them and added, “And anyway, it’s not like you can expect him to know what’s up with you when it doesn’t seem like you’ve figured it out yourself.”

I glanced at her from the side. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I don’t think you know what you want.” She pulled my arm to stop me. “Look, if you guys are just friends, and that’s all you want, you’re being a terrible friend. Friends are happy when their friends find someone they like going out with.” She gave me a knowing smile. “But if you want my opinion—”

“I don’t.”

“—I think you’re in love with him.” I scowled, and she gave me a quick half-hug. “See you later.”

Inspiration struck, and I called after her. Several people, including Ally, turned.

“When does rehearsal start?” I said, trotting toward her. “Four-thirty?”

“No, call time’s at four. Why?”

“D’you think Mrs. Riley will let me sit in? You guys are starting run-throughs, right?”

She shook her head. “We’re supposed to, but I doubt we will. Probably running through the stupid ventriloquist act a bunch more times.” She narrowed her eyes and growled.

“Okay,” I said. “I want to get more ideas for those vignettes. Not a lot’s jumping out at me from the script.”

“Then you should come. The worst that’ll happen is Riley will kick you out.” She gave me another half-hug. “We’re going to be late. Have fun in bio. And maybe actually talk to Jake today?”

She disappeared into the crowded hallway, and I trudged toward the science rooms, hoping my biology teacher wouldn’t make good on his threat of a pop quiz.

****

Mr. Ellison was way too animated for a Wednesday afternoon. Earlier that week, we’d started the unit on genetics, which he said was incomplete without a thorough study of Gregor Mendel. He’d complained about the sparse coverage about him in our textbooks, so we spent most of the period that day watching a documentary about him. Or, rather, Mr. Ellison played a documentary while most of the class took a post-lunch nap.

He waxed so enthusiastic about the man he called the “Father of Genetics,” I’d decided my biology teacher was probably a frustrated geneticist or something. Either that, or he was a card-carrying member of the Gregor Mendel Fan Club.

“I wish Westgate would build a greenhouse so you guys could try to replicate his pea plant experiments,” he said almost wistfully when he flipped the lights back on. “It would take a few years to gather as much data as Mendel had, of course, which is why geneticists use fruit flies and bacteria these days for breeding experiments. But just being able to control pollination—” Brian Tucker’s hand shot up, and Mr. Ellison paused before he said, “Yes, Brian?”

“How do you control pollination?” He leaned forward in earnest. “I mean, can’t plants just do it with themselves?”

“That’s called self-fertilization,” Mr. Ellison said. “And, yes, most plants can do that, which is why a greenhouse is a perfect environment for plant experimentation because there’s no wind to shake the pollen into the pistil, and no insects to transport pollen from one flower to another.”

“But plants can still kind of have sex, right?” Brian asked. “It’s not the same as, like, people, but they have eggs and sperm, right?” Some of my classmates giggled, but Brian’s posture never changed. The guy was focused.

Mr. Ellison beamed. “As a matter of fact, yes, they do. Their reproductive process is different from the animal kingdom, of course, but—”

The bell rang, and everyone leapt to their feet, shoving laptops and notebooks into their bags. Mr. Ellison called out something after us as we streamed out of the classroom, probably to remind us of our homework assignments, but I doubted anyone heard.

Jake was already several yards away when I hurried into the hall. He moved slowly with his shoulders hunched, and guilt nibbled at my stomach. I never would’ve admitted it to her, but Ally was right. I’d done everything I could to avoid Jake that week, and I was being a terrible friend. Just because my feelings were all messed up didn’t mean I had to be totally rude about it.

I quickened my pace to catch up to him and tapped on his shoulder. “Hey.”

He glanced at me but didn’t stop. “Hi.”

It wasn’t the warm greeting I was accustomed to, but I figured I deserved it. That didn’t make it sting any less, though.

“I don’t know how Finn’s getting through to Brian, but it’s brilliant,” I said as brightly as I could. “Did you notice how he asked something that didn’t make Ellison cringe? And he was, like, totally focused.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of Jake’s mouth, but he didn’t look at me or say anything.

We continued on in an uncomfortable silence. The few seconds of uneasiness felt like hours. I cleared my throat and said, “Riley didn’t like my posters.”

“Bianca told me,” he said, bobbing his head almost mechanically. “Sorry.”

“There was one she sort of liked, but I have to fix it and show it to her and Mr. Collins on Friday.”

“At least she’s letting you try again, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone’s telling me, especially since Riley never gives second chances.”

We stopped in front of his trigonometry class, and he turned to me. “Then don’t complain.” Then, after a beat, he said, “See you later.”

He disappeared into the room, and I doubled back to my French class, pulling up my hoodie tight to ward off a chill that didn’t come from the air.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Bookish Bean was crowded when Bianca, Ally, and I arrived after school that day. We had some time before Ally needed to be back at school, so my friends told me what they wanted, and I stood in the queue while they claimed a booth by a window near the front of the coffee shop.

“I was thinking something kind of short and flirty,” Ally said when I arrived with our drinks. “But I might freeze if it doesn’t warm up by then.”

“I can’t do short,” Bianca said almost wistfully. “Knee-length on you ends up being mid-thigh on me, so your short skirts are totally indecent. I feel like I need leggings or something so I don’t flash everyone.” She took her cup from the tray I set down and shrugged. “Tall girl problems.”

“Not everyone’s an Amazon like you,” Ally said as I handed her a small paper bag. “At least you don’t trip over floor-length gowns.”

I sat beside Bianca with my decaf chai latte, unable to add to the conversation. I’d forgotten the Sweetheart’s Dance was just two weeks away. Between everything that happened with my dad and whatever was going on with Jake, it was like my world had ground to a halt while everyone else’s lives were moving at light speed.

Ally sipped her drink. “I wish you were going,” she said. “What are you going to do that night?”

“I’ll think of something.” I looked out the window to avoid their gazes. We used to avoid school dances, opting for movie marathons at Bianca’s house instead. It had changed when Tim invited her to the Winter Formal, of course, but Ally and I had still hung out with Jake and Finn. With both of my friends going to the dance, though, it would be different. I’d be on my own.

“The purple’s almost washed out,” Bianca said, referring to my birthmark. “When was the last time you dyed it?”

I reached up and twirled a lock around my finger to study it. Bianca was right; most of the color had washed out. What was once a bright purple streak in my hair was now a pale lavender.

“Like a week ago,” I said. “The night before my dad’s funeral.” The night before I kissed Jake.

“You should do magenta again,” Ally said. “That looked awesome.”

“I don’t know.” I rotated my cup on the table. “Maybe I’ll totally give Jorgensen a shock and do a permanent dye job and make it match the rest of my hair.”

Ally was scandalized. “But if you do that, you’ll totally undo your image!” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Remember how everyone freaked out when Vanessa Petrakis stopped bleaching her hair and came back from winter break, and it was super short and really dark?” she said, referring to a junior in my biology class. “I never posted about it because I couldn’t verify them, of course, but there were all kinds of rumors about how she joined a Wiccan cult or something.”

“That’s stupid,” I said with a snort. “Wicca isn’t a cult. And besides, no one’s going to think I’ve turned into some religious fanatic if I lose the stripe.”

“No,” she said, lifting her drink to her lips. “But people will talk.”

“They’ll talk anyway,” Bianca said with a dismissive shake of her head. “I think you should go with bright blue again. Everyone does pink.”

A bell on the door behind me tingled, and Ally’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, ew.” She wrinkled her nose, and her lip curled into a sneer. She grabbed Bianca’s hand. “Keep your head down,” she said between gritted teeth, “and for the love of all that is good, do not turn around.”

She didn’t direct those instructions at me, so I looked over my shoulder and raised my eyebrows when I saw Dante Schwartz, Bianca’s ex-boyfriend, headed for the line. There was no mistaking his dark hair and sharp features. I’d never understood what Bianca had seen in him, but I was probably the only girl in our class who’d never been interested in him. I appraised the short girl hanging on his arm. She was dressed in a peasant blouse and navy pleated skirt, obviously from St. Lucy’s, and I shook my head. Dante’d had no trouble finding another girlfriend once he’d left Westgate. I wondered if he was as possessive of this girl as he once was of my best friend. The thought made me cringe.

“Oh no,” I said.

“Right?” Ally shuddered. “I can’t believe I ever thought he was cute.”

Bianca lifted her head and shifted in her seat, trying to look around me. “Who?”

“Do you think she knows he’s an abusive control freak?” I said.

“Doubtful,” Ally said, scrunching up her nose again. “Besides, everyone knows St. Lucy’s girls don’t have any standards.”

“Who are you talking about?” Bianca stood to look over my head and then sank slowly back into her seat. She cursed under her breath and said, “Sorry, guys. I think he saw me.”

Ally and I exchanged glances. “Time to go,” I announced as I sprang to my feet.

“But we’re not done with our drinks yet,” Ally said, slowly getting up.

“So you’ll pay for detailing if you spill,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder. Dante had spotted us for sure, and it looked like he was headed our way. “Come on, you guys. Hurry.”

I stepped aside as Bianca slid out of the booth, and we turned it over to some eager kids Ally recognized from Lakeridge High. We were almost at the door when Dante’s voice stopped us.

“Bianca?”

She stiffened at the sound of her name, but she tossed her hair back before she turned around, her chin up high. If she was nervous, she wasn’t showing it, but Ally and I still winced. At least we were both there to offer support if she needed us.

“Hi, Dante,” she said with a plastic smile, her voice trembling ever so slightly. She craned her neck to look behind him. “Where’s your little friend?”

“What? Oh, Rachel.” He looked over his shoulder and waved to the girl who’d arrived with him. She was holding his place in line.

“Classy,” Ally murmured, but if Dante heard her, he didn’t react.

He slouched as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, I wanted to apologize for everything.”

I snorted. “Is this part of some twelve-step program or something?”

Ally’s eyes were wide as she stared at me, and Bianca nudged me. Dante didn’t respond.

“My parents are making me see a therapist,” he said, his eyes downcast. “And your friend’s mom made them promise to make me take these anger management classes.” His eyes darted in my direction as he said that. “So, um, I’m sorry.”

Bianca nodded. “Thanks.”

The four of us stood there for a while, looking at each other. People jostled past us as they came in and out of the coffee shop.

“So anyway, Rachel’s waiting for me,” he said, gesturing behind him.

“Okay.” Bianca smiled and gave a quick wave, and the three of us darted out the door.

“That was interesting,” Ally said as we climbed into my car.

“I’m still not sure what that was all about.” I started the car and headed back to school. Bianca was silent in the back seat. “You okay back there?”

She didn’t say anything at first; she kept staring out the window. “Good for him,” she said at last. She caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “The therapy and anger management stuff? I hope it’s working for him.”

I wasn’t sure why, but that made me think of my dad. I wondered if therapy really had helped him, and guilt weighed heavy in my chest as I thought about the times I’d continued to reject him.

****

“I’ll give Hunter his cinnamon roll and let him know you’re going to sit in,” Ally said as we walked into the auditorium. She paused at the back of the theater to look for her boyfriend, but when she couldn’t find him, she said, “I’ll bet he’s running lines with Kyle again. He’s such a sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

I watched her disappear into the lobby before Bianca and I sat down in the back row. About half a dozen students were moving set pieces around the stage. To the untrained eye, it looked like an uncoordinated flurry of activity, but in reality, everyone’s movements were deliberate and purposeful. It was organized chaos.

“Are you still bitter about missing out?” I said to Bianca. She would have probably been part of the cast if Dante hadn’t shoved her into a wall, leaving her with a concussion.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. She sat straight in her seat. “I mean, I’m glad I have time to hang out with Tim and all, but….” She sighed and gestured to the stage with outstretched arms. “I love all of this.”

“I’m not so sure Ally does,” I said. “She seems tense.”

Bianca shook her head. “She’s stressed for sure. And all her extracurriculars? I don’t think she really knew what she was getting into.”

“She said she and Kyle still haven’t nailed that number.” I fought back a grin. “I think she’s ready to punch him or something.”

“Yeah, she told me the same,” Bianca said, laughing. “It’s too bad, too, because Kyle’s really—”

“Get away from me!” Ally screeched, cutting her off. We both turned to see her racing back in from the lobby, Hunter right behind her. It looked like he was trying to stop her, but she stayed well away from him.

“Ally.” They were in the center aisle a quarter of the way to the stage when he reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.

“‘Running lines,’ my—”

Hunter looked stricken. “Can you keep it down, please?”

“No,” she practically shouted, and then she began hurling long strings of obscenities at him.

Bianca and I glanced at each other. Ally rarely cursed. If she was angry enough to scream some of the things she was saying, Hunter must’ve done something really bad.

“Miss Katz!” Mrs. Riley glided up the aisle toward them.

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Bianca murmured as she leaned forward.

Mrs. Riley peered at them over her tortoiseshell frames. “Miss Katz, Mr. York, is there a problem?”

Ally drew herself up to her full five-foot-three height and whirled to face the drama director. “No, ma’am,” she said, her voice bright and sunny. “But maybe you should ask your assistant director here why Kyle’s been too distracted to focus on his marks or choreography. Or what they’ve really been doing while Kyle’s supposed to be working on his lines.” She turned to him with a wicked smirk before she flounced down the aisle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I wondered aloud. Then after a beat, I turned to Bianca, my eyes wide. “Wait. Isn’t Kyle—?”

“Gay?” She nodded.

“So does that mean Hunter…?”

Bianca shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it?”

Movement on the other side of the theater caught my attention, and a very flushed Kyle was making his way to the stage. No one paid much attention to him; most people were still looking at Hunter and Mrs. Riley.

“You don’t think…?”

“It’s possible.” Bianca frowned. “Or maybe Ally’s hyperactive imagination is out of control.” She shrugged again. “Something like this happens almost every production, but it’s usually the two leads hooking up with each other and having some wicked fall out right before opening night. It keeps the ‘drama’ in Drama Club.”

I glanced at Hunter, still standing in the middle of the aisle. He was hunched over with his hands in his pockets, and he hung his head as Mrs. Riley spoke to him in hushed tones. I couldn’t see his expression, but I wondered what was going through his mind.

“Well, if he is gay, then we know why everyone was so surprised she was going out with him,” she said.

“Did you think he was?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But he might not be.”

“I hope she didn’t really see what I think she thinks she saw.” I watched her take center stage, her head high and her shoulders pulled back. She oozed confidence on the outside, but I could only imagine what was spinning in her mind. “Poor Ally,” I said with a mournful sigh. If this was remotely like any of my mom’s breakups, I knew she’d need all the support I could muster. I wondered if that would be enough.