Kasey Screws Up the World (26 page)

HEAVY MEDDLE

Posted by Kasey at 3:00 P.M.

Tuesday, September 16

Past Mood:
Awkward

SAT Word Of The Day:
Consort. Definition: Not the musical kind.

Settle a debate for me. Comment below if you think I portrayed Ali inaccurately in my last post.

“How was camp?” I asked Lonnie as we crossed the street and entered the park. Abundant trees replaced the dreary gray and brown buildings, everything turning soft and round instead of square and boxy. Fresh air was hard to come by in the city. The city usually smelled like car exhaust or fire from the food trucks that roasted nuts year round.

“Well, I didn’t miss much yesterday. The kids can barely play a G chord. It’s going to be a long summer.”

“That’s only because I won’t be there,” I said, then wanted to take it back. It sounded flirty. I wasn’t trying to be flirty. I was trying to be someone else.

He pursed his lips and studied me out of the corner of his eye. By the time we reached the concert arena, a large crowd had already gathered around the stage. Most sat on blankets on the grass but a few stragglers stood on the sidelines, looking temporary.

Lonnie opened his messenger bag and pulled out a bed sheet that he spread on the ground in an empty spot just a little too far from the nearest concert-goer. The wind blew my hair around my face and sent the sheet curling upward, so we took off our shoes and weighted down the corners with them.

I felt awkward. This whole evening seemed way too much like a date. I had to say something, anything, to break the ice. “So, did anyone else miss me today?” I asked, attempting to be funny. It sounded desperate.

Lonnie’s face fell. “Um…I’m just going to say yes and you’re going to believe me.”

“Oh no? No one even realized?” Only one day and they’d already forgotten I’d existed. I shouldn’t be too surprised.

“I overheard a few of the girls.” He stopped drumming on the sheet. “Remember how I told you I wasn’t going to ask what happened with your sister?”

I nodded warily.

“I think you should employ that same strategy with this question.”

I scooted closer to him. “Now I need to know. It’s okay, I quit for a reason. I don’t care.” My smile wavered and it took gargantuan effort to keep it from slipping into a frown.

He watched me for a moment and my act must have been convincing because he gave in. “They were complaining about you quitting, saying you were leaving them high and dry and all that. Don’t worry about it. It’s mud.”

“Mud?”

“Made up drama. Isn’t that what you girls do best?”

“Well, we know what I do best wasn’t dancing.”

We both laughed and after that, we chatted easily like we had done the day before, even as the orchestra serenaded us. I loved that he never asked about Lara unless I volunteered the subject. That was why I agreed to meet him the next day. And the one after that.

On days I was really down, he came up with fun and free ways to distract me from being upset that Lara refused to speak to me: watching his band practice, walking the High Line, window shopping. He was my partner in crime, replacing Denise as I tried to replace Finn.

I’d spoken to Denise a few times after I abandoned camp for the summer but the phone calls were always awkward. She’d want to tell me something about camp and I’d change the subject. She’d ask about Lara and I’d give her a brief update—
She started using crutches
—and I’d change the subject. She would gush about the boy she was crushing on…and I’d change the subject.

It got to the point where we had nothing to talk about anymore. We had nothing in common.

Which was why I felt awkward dialing her number a few weeks later. My fingers glided over the keys of my phone with muscle memory, but my heart beat fast like I was calling her for the first time.

“Hey, I only have a sec,” she said into the phone, not even bothering with a hello. In the background, I could hear a few girls giggling. That could have been me in the background.

My chest ached. “It’s okay, I was wondering about Ali’s party.” If I’d learned one thing from Ali and Denise’s visit earlier in the summer, my sister wouldn’t be rude to me in front of her friends. She wouldn’t risk looking like a bitch. No one would help her get auditions if they didn’t like her. Ali’s party next week was my best shot at getting Lara to actually listen to me.

“Oh my God, I did not say that!” Denise shouted, clearly to the others in the room. Then, more softly. “Sorry, Kase, I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Never mind, you’re busy.” I twisted the ends of my hair into a knot around my finger.

“No, it’s okay, hold on, let me go into another room.” She told the other girls she’d be right back and then a few moments of silence followed before she said, “What did you say?” This time in a whisper.

“Ali’s party. I was wondering—”

“Ugh, Kase, I forgot to tell you. I told him about the party all casual, like, ‘yeah a lot of people will be there. You should check it out.’ And you know what he said?”

“See you there?” My eyelashes fluttered closed as I waited for the obvious answer. My reaction surprised me.

“No! He said he wasn’t sure if he could make it! What the hell?” She tsked into the phone. “Not cool, Kasey, not cool.”

I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “Well, what if I said
I
could make it.”

I expected her to squeal in delight. Instead, she went silent.

“Hello?” I asked, as I plopped onto my bed, my heart pounding.

“Well, I told Ali I’d come over early and help her set up. I can ask her if you could join, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

I had a feeling the opposite was true. And besides, if Ali knew I was going to go, I was pretty sure she’d tell Lara. And then the whole plan would backfire.

“You know what, I’m an idiot. I just remembered Mom needed me that night. You have fun.”

Suddenly, the thought of losing my best friend was another loss I didn’t want to add to my ever-growing roster. I could make this right, easily. And Ali’s party would be the perfect place to do it. Even if I had to go there myself.

Displaying 4 out of 10 comments.

Crista
said…

Ali’s a really sweet girl. I agree with her, you made her seem like a bitch.

Amanda
said…

You captured Ali’s hosebeast qualities nicely!

Anonymous
said…

Not accurate…but only because you toned her down.

Finn
said…

My opinion doesn’t count. Or does it? (It counted in E156 anyway.) *wink*

DENISE DIDN’T GET OUT of dance practice until four P.M., but I loitered outside her building as soon as school ended just in case. Even though I got the school on board, my idea wouldn’t work without her. If she wouldn’t say more than a few sentences to me in public, maybe she’d be more inclined in private. It was the opposite of the ambush I’d done to Lara.

As I sat on her stoop, I flipped my phone over and over in my hands, thinking about the comments on the last post. I’d vowed not to let commentors impersonating “Finn” or “Clark” get to me. I knew it was just Ali or someone else in school messing with me. But this commetor was different, despite still coming from a generic cell phone. He knew something no one else could have known.

My room number from the cruise.

What if it really was Finn and this was his way of reaching out to me, testing the waters?

Before I could chicken out, I typed Finn’s email address into a new compose window on my phone. My heart thumped wildly as I entered three simple words into the body of the email:
Was it you?

They weren’t the three words I wanted to say, not by a long shot. Not even my second choice of
I miss you.

I jammed my eyes shut and held my finger down on the send button. My breath came out ragged. I shoved my phone back into my bag. Out of sight, because I was out of my mind.

At four thirty, Denise rounded the corner. When she caught sight of me, she pulled back her shoulders and marched toward me.

“You’re stalking me now?” She brushed right past me.

“Please hear me out. I want to help you.”

She scoffed as she raced under the awning to the door. “I think you’ve done enough.”

I followed her. “With Lonnie, I mean.”

She whipped her head toward me. “Did you tell him I like him?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Not exactly. I can explain.”

She breathed in and out heavily, rummaging in her purse for her key. “I’m only inviting you in because I want answers.”

Inside the elevator, upbeat music provided us a happy soundtrack while we stood as far apart from each other, neither of us daring to look anywhere but straight ahead. The doors popped open and we both let out a breath.

Once inside her apartment, Denise led me into the formal living room, not her bedroom where we usually hung out. The flowered-print blue sofa and the velvet drapes seemed as stuffy as the tension between us. She perched on the edge of the sofa as if she needed to be ready to spring up at any moment. I didn’t feel comfortable enough to sit down, so I leaned against the wooden piano.

“Look, Denise…He’s interested. He wants to get to know you.”

She pushed her lips to the side. “And how exactly do you know he’s interested? Why would he tell you?”

“The nine A.M. thing. He figured it out,” I said and she started to shake her head at me. I rushed the rest of my explanation out. “I know I promised not to reveal your secret and I didn’t. But I was hoping he would catch on.” I took a deep breath. “I think you two would be perfect together.”

I couldn’t have Finn. But I also couldn’t have the next best thing either.

She stood up. “And what about you?”

I pushed myself off the piano in defense, ready to cut her off before she tried to flee the room. “We’re just friends. I promise, you’ll understand when you read the last blog post.”

She eyed the couch and the exit to the living room, as if trying to decide which she should side with. “I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me. Right here. Right now.”

Because then I’d have to look her in the eye as I told her the things she would hate me for.

Denise paced the room, treading lines in the beige carpet. “Actually, I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me any of it when it happened. I could have been there for you. That’s what friends do. Instead you shut me out of your life, you betrayed me, and I thought it was my fault.”

I twisted my hands together. “I know my reaction to things sucked. But I’m really trying to fix it now. Starting with setting you up with Lonnie. Do you still like him?”

She buried her face in her hands. “God, I’m pathetic.” She heaved a sigh and sunk in to couch, cradling her knees in her arms. “What did he say about me?”

I sat down next to her. “He wants to get to know you. And I have the perfect way to do that. But I’ll need your help in convincing the dance team.”

She shook her head. “They’re not going to want to help you.”

“Do you?”

She picked at her red painted nails, avoiding my eyes. “That’s a loaded question. I want to help Lara. And I can’t help it, I want the guy. But—”

“So don’t tell them I’m involved then.” I cut her off before she could tell me she didn’t want to help me. “Pass it off as your idea for another fundraiser. Do you still have more to raise for Nationals?”

“Three thousand.”

I nodded. “They can have all the profits.” That was my way to make it up to them for quitting the team. They were stronger without me anyway. They had a better chance to win.

“Well, I’m sure whatever your idea is, it’s better than Ali’s next fundraiser stroke-of-brilliance.” Judging by the Team t-shirt fiasco, I knew whatever Ali had up her sleeve would be embarrassing for me. “Fine. Count me in.”

I ran a finger over the canvas fabric of the sofa, circling a tiny white flower. “There’s one more thing. I can’t really post the next—the last—blog post until I have your permission.”

“Uh oh.”