Adorkable (9 page)

I’d been in love with him since we were kids, and I was only now realizing all the ways that the plan could backfire. I could only hope Mom would be an easier sell.

She cleared her throat then fired off her first bomb.

Casually—too casually—she said, “How?”

“What do you mean?” I mumbled, though I thought I knew.

“Did he ask you or did you ask him? Where did it happen? Does Lillian know? What does she think?”

So much for an easy sell.

Pouring the milk slowly, careful not to spill a drop, I walked over, replaced the carton, and lowered myself into the seat across from The Interrogator. She was wearing one of the bridal tiaras she’d brought home, a white veil attached to the back. Her fingers were beating a lazy rhythm on the wooden table top, but the beady eyes remained.

“I asked him, Mom,” I said, reaching across to grab an apple, saying the words like they were the easiest thing in the world. “In the storeroom, after first period.”

“Did you?” Mom raised an eyebrow, drumming a constant five-count, pinky to thumb, pinky to thumb.

The sound was unnerving.

“Yes.” I downed a big gulp of milk, quickly wiping away the excess on my top lip. “And yes, Hooker knows...but she doesn’t believe me.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, thinking back. “She says it’s weird, that Becks and I know each other too well and there’s no mystery.” I laughed. “She actually said we’re like siblings. What I really think is she can’t believe Becks would go out with someone like me. I mean, he’s my best friend, but he’s still Becks.”

The finger tapping stopped abruptly. “That’s ridiculous.”

I shrugged. In this at least, I was on sure footing. “That’s what I said. Seriously, Mom, me and Becks related? He’s too freaking pretty for that.” Though as I said it, I noticed how beautiful my mom looked now, even as she frowned. I guessed good looks sometimes skip a generation.

“That’s not what I meant at all.” Her eyes were slits, never a good sign. Before I could figure it out, she went on. “And when was this?”

“Yesterday.”

The seconds ticked by, each marked by her once again drumming fingers and the erratic beat of my heart. I’d just told her about me and Becks, and this was her response: a question-and-answer session sure to trip me up if I wasn’t on my guard. Luckily, after Hooker, I’d been expecting it.

After a time, she sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” I looked up, shocked to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with you dating Becks so long as he treats you well—which I have no doubt he does. ‘Yesterday’? You actually thought I’d buy that?”

I was floored. Was she actually saying…

“You don’t have to lie,” she continued. “This has obviously been going on for some time. But you didn’t have to keep it a secret, Sally. I would’ve understood.”

I couldn’t believe it. Her quick acceptance was so unlike Hooker’s flat-out refusal I had a hard time forming a reply.

“Sorry,” I said after a beat. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Oh God,” she said suddenly, raising a hand to her lips, “I feel so stupid now about helping Lillian with all those blind dates.”

This was going much better than I’d expected. “Ah, don’t feel
too
bad, Mom.”

She sniffled. “I just can’t believe you never told me. I mean, I’ve always thought of myself as a cool mom. You know, a friend as well as a parent, hip to the ways of the young crowd.”

I leaned over to place a hand on her shoulder. “You are, by far, the hippest mom I’ve ever met,” I said, looking her in the eye.

“Yeah, right.”

“Mom, it’s true.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better, but I love you for it.” She took my hand in hers, a smile playing on her lips. “So, why didn’t you just wait for Becks to ask you? Was he really dragging his feet that much?”

I shook my head at the idea. Becks ask me out? That was a laugh. “Becks would’ve never asked me first.”

She looked confused. “Why not?”

Because, I answered mentally, even if Becks was the one who’d needed a fake girlfriend, he wouldn’t have had to ask me. Girls would line up for a chance at him, fake or no. There were just too many other options, and besides, I was completely off his radar.

What I said was “Because he just wouldn’t.” Shrugging, I stood up, stretched and went to get my wand and cloak off the counter. “The kids will be arriving in about twenty minutes. I should get going.”

“Why not, Sally?” Mom stepped in front of me, arms crossed, tiara sparkling, and I realized I had made a mistake.

Trying to laugh it off, with a flourish, I swirled the cloak around my shoulders and said, “Well because for all his strengths, Becks has never appreciated my flair for the dramatic.” The pinky to thumb thing started again, soundless this time because it was on her arm. Dropping the act, I decided to get real. “Come on, Mom. You’re not seriously asking me this. With every other girl vying for his attention, why the heck would he notice a bookworm like me?”

And then I stopped, suddenly realizing I was wrong. Becks
had
noticed me. Out of everyone else, he’d picked me, Sally Spitz, as his best friend. For once, I was happy to be wrong.

“Sally, you’re gorgeous,” Mom said, arms falling to her sides.

“Yeah, o-kay,” I said, moving around her. A bit of sarcasm leaked through despite my best efforts. When I got to the door, she stopped me again, planting herself in front so I couldn’t leave. “Mom, I really need to go. They can’t start without me.”

“Okay, okay.” Lowering her chin, she narrowed her eyes. “But I’m serious, Sally Sue Spitz. You are my child, my baby, and nobody calls my baby ugly. Nobody. Not even you.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Now Mom, gorgeous is a bit of stretch don’t you think?”

“
Gorgeous
,” she repeated firmly, slipping the top button of my cloak into place. “Now, go on before you’re late. Those kids are probably tearing the place apart. When will you be home?”

“Not sure,” I said and then added the cherry on top. “I’m going over to Becks’s house after.”

A light lit in her eyes. “Oh, okay. Good. Have fun.”

Turning, I smiled to myself, knowing she was totally sold. One down, I thought, one to go. Look out, Hooker, I’m coming for you next.

“Oh, and Sally?”

As I got to my car, I looked back.

“Not
too
much fun, alright? Becks is a good boy, but…he
is
a boy. Tell him I said to keep it in his pants, okay? No babies for my baby, get me?”

I couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Love you,” she called as I drove off. “Say hi to Becks for me.”

Through the embarrassment, I felt a sweet buzz of triumph steal up my spine. The F.B.F. train was rolling now. There were really only two train seats that needed filling, and Hooker’s butt was about to be planted into one of those seats—whether she liked it or not.

It might’ve sounded strange, but my job always put me in a good mood. I know, I know, teenagers are supposed to be all “I hate my job. The pay sucks, the hours suck, the customers suck, my boss is out to get me.” But none of those things applied to me. I must’ve gotten lucky because my job at the library was completely kick-ass.

Reading to the kids, seeing their faces rapt with attention, eager to hear what happens next, hearing them laugh out loud or gasp in surprise, it actually made minimum wage sound good. Seriously, I should’ve been paying them. The kids were so much fun—cooler than a lot of my so-called peers—and even if it was just on weekends, I loved sharing my favorite childhood books with them. Plus, sometimes they made me presents.

Like today, I’d received my very own pirate hat, completely blinged out with fake rhinestones and pink skull and crossbones. The thing barely fit on my head, but that was probably because of the braids. The gift and the Pippi Longstocking-esque hairdo were compliments of Gwendolyn Glick, one of my favorites. She wore red glasses two sizes too big for her face, spoke with a slight lisp and always had on the same t-shirt at story time, a faded black number featuring the Starship Enterprise and the saying “I Trek. Do you?”

What can I say? The kid and I were kindred spirits.

Even if I felt like an idiot, I jammed the hat on my head and wore it throughout the day along with my long black cloak. Those kids loved that cloak; the ones who knew the series said it reminded them of the professors at Hogwarts. I must’ve looked pretty silly—a cross between Severus Snape and Jack Sparrow—but Gwen’s happy expression made it all worth it.

It was only after I’d knocked on Becks’s door that I wished I’d remembered to take it off.

Clayton answered and nearly had a conniption. He was hooting and carrying on and looked like he was this close to passing out from lack of oxygen.

“Oooh,” he said, gasping, face redder than his shirt.

He had the top three buttons undone, and the sight made me blush. Apparently Becks wasn’t the only fit one in the family.

“Oh Sally—” He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “—girl, you keep coming ‘round dressed like that one of these days I’m going die laughing.”

“Why wait?” I asked sweetly.

Becks came into view at that moment, his mouth spreading into a wide grin as he looked me over.

I shot him a warning glare, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “Hey, Sal. That a new hat?” which, of course, set Clayton off again.

“Funny,” I told him, tossing him
his
present. “Here, Gwen made you one, too.”

“Well, that was sweet of her,” he said, propping the thing on his head. “But why?”

I frowned, noticing how the pirate headgear didn’t look half as ridiculous on Becks as I was sure it did on me. Dang it, he actually looked kind of cute. I couldn’t help thinking that in that hat, with his perfect five o-clock shadow, Becks’d give Johnny Depp a run for his money.

“I think she’s got a crush on you.”

“Smart girl,” he said, lifting the hat off easily. “Why don’t we go to my room?”

“O-okay.” The word came out unsteady. Considering I’d been to Becks’s bedroom a ton of times, spent almost as much time there as I did in my own over the years, I shouldn’t have been nervous. But as Clayton sauntered off making kissy noises and Becks placed his hand on my lower back, I was jumpier than a jackrabbit on speed. My heart was a wild thing in my chest. It was beating so fiercely and so fast that by the time we reached the top of the stairs I felt like I’d run a marathon.

As I entered Becks’s room and heard the door click shut behind us, I took a deep breath before turning to face him.

“So,” I said, backing up, removing the hat and cloak, voice higher than usual. Realizing I had nothing left to say, like an idiot, I repeated myself. “So...”

Becks shook his head. “Alright Sal, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to play it cool.

“Exactly what I said.” He crossed his arms. “What’s with you? And don’t try to say it’s nothing. Since yesterday, you look like you’re about to have a heart attack every time I lay a hand on you.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, Sal. You do.”

My heart, so alive before, seemed to freeze in my chest.

“Sal, I’m not…” He flushed. Becks, unflappable, always self-assured Becks, actually flushed, while I stared in awe. “I wouldn’t ever try anything on you. You know that, right?”

That’s too bad
, I thought, and even my mental voice sounded disappointed. “That’s not it.”

“Then, what is it?”

I stayed silent. If this conversation was going where I thought it was going, I was in big trouble.

“I know something’s up,” he said, locking eyes with me, “and I think I know what that something is.”

I gulped. “You do?”

He couldn’t know—could he?

“Yeah,” he said, “But I really just wish you’d tell me. I won’t be mad, you know.”

I was glad to hear it, but Becks being mad at me for loving him wasn’t necessarily my biggest fear. I was more afraid he’d laugh or hate me for ruining our friendship. I wasn’t sure I could survive losing Becks as a friend. In fact, I was pretty sure I couldn’t.

“We’ll still be friends and everything.” It was like he’d read my mind. Oh God, he didn’t really know, did he? “Come on, Sal. Just tell me the truth about this whole fake boyfriend thing.”

“The truth,” I choked.

His next words confirmed, unquestionably, that we were
not
talking about the same thing.

“Just tell me who he is,” Becks insisted.

“Who who is?” I asked, perplexed.

Becks was starting to look annoyed. “The guy.”

“What guy?”

“Jeez, Sal.” He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “The guy who you’re crushing on so bad you had to hire a fake boyfriend to make him jealous.”

I was shocked to say the least. Here I was thinking Becks had finally figured it out, figured
me
out, when he was really just as clueless as he’d ever been. That was a close one. After all that worry, my secret, my heart, was safe for now. Thank heaven for small favors.

Playing along, I said, “Well, why do you want to know?”

“I knew it,” he exclaimed, pointing a finger at me. “I knew it. This was never just about the Lillian’s setups. You’re doing this for some guy you’ve got the hots for.”

“You got me.” I shrugged. Having him believe this lie was far better than telling him the life-altering, possibly friendship-wrecking truth. “How’d you figure it out?”

“Netflix,” Becks replied. “So who is he?”

“Why should I tell you?”

The look he gave me was half-scathing, half-impressed. “I think I deserve to know, seeing as how you’re using me. Is that all I am to you, Sal, arm candy?”

“Oh no.” I was the one to cross my arms this time. I knew him too well to believe he was actually offended. “Don’t pretend, Becks. Don’t act like you’re not totally loving this.”

A slow grin started to form. “Well, I’m definitely not hating it.”

I shook my head. “That is so wrong.”

Becks rolled his eyes. “So, who is this guy anyway?” He took a seat in his desk chair and gestured for me to do the same. “He must be something for you to go to all this trouble.”