Coming Up Roses (2 page)

“Will someone please pass me the General Tso’s chicken?” I asked grumpily.

“Why, certainly,” said Poppy immediately, lunging across the table to grab the cardboard container even though it was right next to Dad’s elbow.

“Thanks,” I said.

But she wouldn’t let go of the container. “I’m really really really really really really really really sorry I dropped your phone in the lake, Del,” she said sincerely.

Once it had been determined that Poppy was fine — but my phone wasn’t — I had gotten pretty upset. And I still hadn’t recovered.

I tried to wrest the food out of her hand, but Poppy held it with an iron grip. “Did you forgive me yet?” she
asked. When I didn’t answer, she pulled out the big guns. “I’ll let you take my pink purse to school all day tomorrow. It has three pockets inside.”

I laughed, picturing the look on my mortal enemy Ashley’s face if I showed up at school clutching a pink, glittery purse with a poodle on it. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Eighth graders use backpacks,” I told Poppy.

Despite my annoyance, I relished the sound of that statement.
Eighth grader.
When I had first started middle school I remember thinking that the eighth graders seemed as mature as college students or something. And now I was one of them. I had been for four weeks now.

I realized that my whole family was staring at me, waiting for my reply.

“Fine, Poppy, apology accepted,” I said resignedly.

“Yay!” she said, releasing the cardboard container. Then, “Are you going to eat that egg roll?”

Shaking my head, I handed it over to her.

But this situation had not been resolved to my liking yet. My beautiful, bright red phone — with the cute puffy animal stickers I had so carefully applied and the photos I
had not yet downloaded to my computer — had sunk to the mucky bottom of the lake, never to be seen again.

I cleared my throat. “Well, what are we going to do about the fact that I am now phone-less? I could be getting important text messages at this very moment!”

Rose snorted. I ignored her.

Dad nodded. “I’ll see if Mrs. Kelly can stay a little late after she picks Poppy up from school tomorrow and I’ll take you to the mall after my last class,” he said. “That work?”

“Sure,” I said with a sigh. It had taken me forever to convince my parents that I needed a cell phone in the first place, and now I hated to go even a day without one.

“Is it okay if I have some friends over one day this week after school?” Aster suddenly asked.

“Sure, Rose,” replied Mom automatically as she fished around in the foil-lined rib bag.

“That was Aster,” I told Mom.

Mom looked up and blinked at the twins. “Oh, of course, Aster,” she said. “Sorry.” She gave me a quizzical look. I shrugged. If you were going to place a bet on which twin was going to invite friends over after school, the odds
were that it was going to be outgoing Rose. Not silent, spooky-poetry-writing Aster.

“So what day do you want to invite them over?” Mom asked Aster, still looking surprised.

“How about Wednesday?” Dad asked. “My last class gets out early that day.”

“Sounds good,” said Aster.

Mom turned to Rose. “Do you want to have some friends over, too?” she asked.

“No thanks,” Rose mumbled, staring down at her half-eaten plate of General Tso’s chicken. She looked up to see us all staring at her. “I’m busy preparing for the play try-outs,” she said defensively. “If I want to get a lead role, I can’t waste time hanging out with friends! This is middle school now. Serious stuff.”

I still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that my twin sisters went to the same school that I did. Every once in a while, if I passed one of them in the hallway, I’d have a brief moment of confusion — two worlds getting mixed up, like your grandma showing up in gym class. But it was starting to feel less weird as time went on.

After dinner, I went to Dad’s office to call Becky.

“Are you calling me from a
landline
?” she asked in disbelief.

“I am,” I said. “Poppy dropped my cell phone in Lake Winnipesaukee.”

Becky burst into laughter. “Sorry,” she said. “But you have to admit that is pretty funny.”

“It will be funny eventually,” I told her. “Just not yet.”

“So what’s going on?” Becky asked. “You calling to get HB’s number so you can ask him to HC?”

I laughed. Our texting shorthand had started to overtake our conversations, too.

“No, I think this requires an in-person invitation,” I explained.

“Very brave!” Becky said. “But it’s not like he’s going to say no.”

“You never know,” I said, feeling a swell of nervousness. “This whole thing is freaking me out a little.”

“It’s pretty obvious he likes you,” Becky said. “You don’t bring birthday cakes to girls you don’t like. It gives them the wrong impression.”

“I guess …” I said. Over the summer, Hamilton had
hand-delivered me a birthday cake. Strawberry shortcake, my absolute favorite. “But that was way back in July,” I argued. “People change their minds. Or he could have other plans. Or maybe he doesn’t like football,” I finished lamely.

There was a moment of silence. “Or maybe you’ve never asked anyone out before,” Becky said wisely.

“Yeah, maybe I haven’t.” I smiled. My best friend knew me pretty well.

“You can do it,” she said. “Piece of cake. So when are you getting your phone?”

“Tomorrow after school,” I said. “Thank goodness.”

“Did you keep a list of all your numbers?”

Oh no. I felt embarrassed by my lack of organization. It so wasn’t like me! “I meant to, but I never did,” I confessed. “Can you give me the ones you have? I’ll have to input them all over again. How annoying.”

“Sure,” she said, and gave me our mutual friends’ numbers. “And just in case you chicken out and decide to text him instead, here’s Hamilton’s,” she said.

As I was copying down the numbers on a sheet of paper, someone picked up the other line.

“I’m on the phone!” I said crossly.

“Oh, sorry, Del,” Aster said. “Let me know when you’re off.”

I had gotten so used to my cell, I had totally forgotten about the lack of privacy on landlines.

“Rose?” asked Becky.

“It was Aster,” I told her. “Calling her new friends!”

“Weird!” said Becky.

“Del, we’re about to dip the leaves!” Mom yelled from the kitchen.

“You can be the assistant’s assistant!” shouted Poppy.

“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told Becky.

In the kitchen, I found Poppy standing on a stool as she and Mom intently watched a block of paraffin melt in the double boiler. Every surface was covered with flattened paper grocery bags. As soon as the paraffin had completely melted, we took turns holding leaves by their stems and dipping them in the thick, clear liquid, laying them on the paper bags to dry. The leaves looked even more vibrant with their shiny wax coating. When we were done, the kitchen was bursting with preserved leaves of every shape and color.

Mom sighed contentedly. “Gorgeous, girls, just gorgeous,” she said.

Dipping the leaves had taken my mind off everything. But as I headed upstairs, I could feel my stomach do a flipflop of nervousness. I couldn’t believe I had decided to ask Hamilton on a date the next day. Now that I had told Becky, it was definitely real.

But he could out-and-out say no. He could laugh at me. I could have food stuck in my teeth (it has happened before!). I could trip and fall. What if I burped or accidentally spit on him?

I decided to get ready for bed before my imagination totally ran away with me. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on a cozy pair of pajamas. I got under my comforter and read a chapter of an old favorite,
Caddie Woodlawn.
Before I shut off the lamp on my nightstand I automatically reached for my phone to check for texts. Then I remembered. Bummer.

“Let’s go!” I called up the stairs for the third time that morning. I was waiting, not so patiently, for my sisters
so we could walk to school together. They were never ready. It ate into my hanging-out-with-my-friends-in-the-morning time. And this morning, I was in desperate need of some moral support before I asked Hamilton out. The very thought made me feel sick to my stomach.

“Jeez, Del,” said Rose as she slowly walked down the stairs, still brushing her blonde hair. “No need to freak out. There’s plenty of time.” She rolled her eyes. “Only you would be in a big rush to get to
school
.”

Aster ran down the stairs with an apologetic look, her dark hair falling into her eyes. I smiled, despite myself, at the sight of the twins side by side.

Rose was wearing pink-and-white-striped leggings, a denim miniskirt, and a pink hoodie with cute mitten-shaped pockets. Aster, on the other hand, was wearing black jeans, black boots, and a shapeless black pullover sweater that must have once belonged to Dad. The only hint of color was the red T-shirt that showed through the moth holes in the sweater.

I looked down at my own outfit — skinny jeans, green suede flats, and a green-and-purple flannel shirt. A very
nice asking-a-boy-out-for-the-first-time outfit, if I did say so myself. If I actually managed to ask Hamilton out, that was. Otherwise, it would be a very cute losing-your-nerve ensemble.

The three of us set off for school at a snail’s pace. Rose was really dragging her feet today.

“How do you like middle school so far?” I asked them.

“Fine,” said Rose tersely.

“Not bad,” said Aster.

“Are your classes interesting?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Rose.

“I like English the best,” said Aster. “We’re reading ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’!”

“Cool,” I said.

“Bo-ring,” said Rose.

“You have Mr. Packer, right?” I asked.

Aster nodded.

“Try to stay out of the first two rows if you can,” I advised her. “He’s a crazy spitter!”

“Tell me about it!” said Aster with a laugh.

She and I chatted the rest of the way about her upcoming report on Washington Irving. Rose lagged behind,
kicking at pebbles in her path. English never was her favorite subject, I remembered.

We walked up the granite steps to the school. As I pushed open the heavy wooden door, I asked Aster and Rose if they wanted to join me in the cafeteria. It seemed like the sisterly thing to do, but secretly, I hoped they wouldn’t say yes. I had important, private things to discuss with my friends.

Aster said she had friends to meet in the library, and Rose said she had some homework to finish, so I headed to the lunchroom alone.

“I heard about your phone!” was how my friend Jessica Wu greeted me as I approached the table. “That’s terrible!”

“I know,” I said as I sat down across from her. Spiky-haired, skinny, and slightly spacey, Jess looked cute as ever in a cropped sweater, miniskirt, and tights.

Sitting next to Jess was Heather Hanson, who looks like a china doll with her blonde curls and blue eyes, but happens to be very tough. To my left was Amy Arthur, with her red hair and funky, rectangular glasses. Amy totally worships her big sister, Amber, who’s in high school.
Amy is also the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met. And next to Amy sat Becky, with her flawless dark skin, warm brown eyes, and gorgeous, curly black hair. I smiled at her. I was lucky to have a BFF who was smart, sweet, funny, and always put a positive spin on things.

“I’m going to get a new phone after school today,” I told them.

“Thank God,” said Jessica.

“No wonder you didn’t return my call yesterday!” Heather squealed. “I was feeling insulted until Becky filled me in.” Then her eyes widened with horror. “What if Hamilton tried to call you and thinks you’re ignoring him?”

“Shhhh!” I said, taking a quick glance around the cafeteria.

“Don’t worry,” Heather told me. “He’s on the breakfast line. He can’t hear us.”

I shook my head. Heather is completely boy crazy and keeps tabs on not just her crushes, but everyone else’s.

I took a deep breath and told my friends about my plan to ask Hamilton to Homecoming today.

“Do it!” Heather squealed very loudly.

“So how do your really feel?” I asked, wincing. Too late, I remembered why I usually tend to keep things, as Gramps would say, close to the vest (except around Becky, of course). Now my friends would never let this rest until Hamilton and I were sharing a hot dog in the bleachers at the football game.

Amy nodded. “Totally a great idea,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re going to do it in person. Much better than texting or calling. Trust me, I know about this stuff from Amber.”

I gulped, wishing I felt as confident. Texting Hamilton would be so much easier….

“Look at that,” Amy said disgustedly. I followed her gaze. Ashley Edwards, my arch-nemesis, and her two interchangeable best friends, Sabrina and Rachel, had just entered the cafeteria. They were pointing and laughing at a seventh grader on crutches who was struggling to carry a heavy tray. I shook my head.

Sometimes I couldn’t believe that Ashley and I had actually once been best friends. Okay, it was way back in
preschool. And we had parted ways over a Halloween costume. Yes, I said Halloween costume.

Sure we’d had a brief friendly encounter over the summer after I had saved her birthday party from certain disaster. But when school started in September, we were back to being mortal enemies. It was like our positive moment never even happened.

“I can’t believe they’re not helping him!” Amy sputtered, standing up. “I’ll show them how human beings are supposed to act!”

“No worries,” said Heather. “Da-da-da-da,” she sang. “It’s Super Hamilton to the rescue!”

I spun around in my seat. And there was Hamilton, putting down his books and food on a nearby table. He talked to the struggling seventh grader, took the tray from him, and walked with him to an empty table. Once Crutch Boy was settled, he thanked Hamilton, who waved it off and walked back to get his breakfast.

Heather batted her long eyelashes at me. “Your hero!” she said. I made a face at her, but I could feel my cheeks getting very warm.