Everybody Bugs Out (13 page)

chapter twenty-two

explosions of a different kind

T
he judging was about to start, so there wasn't time to chase after Claire. And even if there had been, I didn't know what I'd say to her. She wasn't wrong about everything. I did like Oliver. But she definitely misunderstood what was going on. I never tried to steal him and I
had
wanted to help her. I truly did. It's just, well, I also wanted Oliver for myself.

It was all too complicated and, anyway, I had to find Phil before it was too late.

I rushed past my project with a quick wave to Tobias and Oliver. Then I pushed my way through the crowd until I made it to Phil, who stood in front of his display. He was all dressed up in khakis and a shirt with a collar. Excited and probably assuming that he'd not only get away with plagiarizing, but also that he'd win first prize. It made me feel bad for what I was about to do but, at the same time, annoyed that I had to.

“Hi!” I said.

Phil's eyes seemed to darken when he saw me. “Isn't your project at the other end of the gym?”

“Yeah, but we need to talk.” I took a deep breath. “I found something I need to show you.”

And since I didn't know what to say next, I just pulled the pages I'd printed out of my bag and handed them over.

“What's this?” asked Phil, his face turning bright red—like he didn't need me to answer.

“Um, I think you know.”

Phil looked up. “I've never seen this before. What a crazy coincidence. There's no way I—”

“Stop!” I raised one hand like a traffic cop. “We both know that's not true.”

He opened his mouth to protest further but then gave up. “Geez, Annabelle. I didn't realize you had it out for me.”

“I don't,” I said. “This isn't personal. It's just not right. You can't cheat. It's not fair to everyone else. And by the way—I didn't turn you in.”

“Good, because Ms. Roberts already said she was impressed. And I've worked harder than anyone here. If only Einstein hadn't died. Or if he'd died sooner and I'd had more time.” He blinked and wiped his eyes. “Never mind. That's a rotten thing to say.”

“It is,” I told him. “And this is a rotten thing to do. You've got to drop out of the fair.”

“It's too late,” said Phil. “And if Ms. Roberts doesn't know, no one else will figure it out, either.”

“But
you
know,” I said. “And you can still walk away. The science fair isn't mandatory. So just pack up your stuff and get out of here.”

He looked at me sideways. “And what? If I don't, you'll tell on me?”

“I don't want to,” I said. “So please don't make me.”

Phil stared from me to his project.

“Come on, Phil. You know this isn't fair.”

“Know what's not fair? The fact that my last project was so awesome.”

I stood my ground and stared him down. And there were a few moments there when it seemed like he'd stubbornly persist. But finally he sighed and took down his fancy wooden sign. Then he folded up the charts and graphs and dumped the bird models into his backpack and walked out of the gym, his backpack slung over slumped shoulders.

Even though he'd done what I'd asked—what he had to do, really—I still felt awful.

“Where's Phil?” Emma asked, hurrying over a minute later. “I just came by to wish him luck because the judging is about to start and—” She looked around. “What happened to his project? This is Phil's table, right?”

I hadn't planned on telling anyone what happened, but Emma was one of my best friends, not to mention Phil's girlfriend, so I figured she had a right to know.

“He just withdrew his project,” I said. “Because it wasn't really his.”

“What?” asked Emma.

“They sell that Birds of Prey experiment online.”

Emma's eyes got wide. “No way!”

“It's true. I figured it out last night and I couldn't just let Phil— Wait! Emma?”

Rather than stick around for my explanation, she'd run after Phil.

I had a clear view of Emma and Rachel's booth from mine, which is how I knew that Emma didn't come back. Not for the judging and not for the announcement of the winners, which is too bad since her group won first prize.

Rachel and Emma were heading to Space Camp. And as happy as I was for them, I felt insanely jealous that my best friends would be leaving me behind. Even though, it turns out, Space Camp only lasts one week.

But I guess things could've been worse.

At least we won second prize. Yes, that's right. Me and Tobias and Oliver each won a ten-dollar gift certificate to the International House of Pancakes.

“Who wants to go away to Space Camp when you can have a round of Swedish pancakes with lemon butter?” I joked with Rachel after school that day.

She cracked up. “Um, me.”

“Right. Congratulations, then!”

“Thanks!” she replied. “Hey, where were you at lunch?”

“Library. I had to study for a test.” I felt bad about lying but I couldn't tell her the truth—that I'd been hiding from my friends because I figured they were all mad. And that even now I was surprised she was willing to talk to me.

But here she was, looking at her watch and making plans for tomorrow night. “The dance starts at 6:00, which means we should leave at 5:54, so we can get there at 6:04—casually late but not obviously so. Everyone's coming to my place at 5:00 so we can get ready. Sound good?”

“We're still doing that?”

“Of course,” said Rachel. “And you know what? I'm glad I don't have a date. We'll have way more fun this way. Boys make things too complicated. Who needs all that drama?”

“Speaking of drama—how's Claire?”

“Oh, she's pretty mad,” said Rachel.

“Really?” I asked.

“No,” said Rachel. “Furious is more like it.”

“Do you think I should apologize?”

“What do you think?” Rachel replied.

It was a good question, but not one I could answer yet.

chapter twenty-three

sparkly belts, the big dance, and freeze tag

I
found the perfect outfit for the big dance—tight black jeans and a blue checked button-down shirt. My mom blow-dried my hair smooth and shiny. And she even let me borrow her favorite silver necklace. But looking good on the outside hardly mattered. Not with half my friends mad at me.

When I walked across the street to Rachel's on Saturday night, Emma was just getting out of her mom's car.

“Hey!” I said, running to catch up to her. “I've been calling you since yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know, but I was too upset to talk.”

“Sorry about Phil,” I said. “I know he's your boyfriend, but I couldn't let him get away with cheating. And having one friend mad at me is bad enough so I hope you'll—”

“Wait, you think I'm mad at you?” Emma asked.

“It seemed that way at the science fair. You took off before they even announced the winners.”

“Because I didn't want to cry in front of the entire sixth grade, but that's not your fault. Phil is the problem. I still can't believe he cheated.”

“I know. It's bad. But he's probably not thinking straight, since Einstein's death.”

“That's what he tried to tell me, but it's no excuse.”

“So you guys are fighting?” I asked.

“Not anymore,” said Emma. “I dumped him. No way could I go out with a cheater.”

“I'm sorry, Emma.”

“Me, too.” She sighed. “But it's not just about the science fair. Things have been weird with Phil for a while. I used to think he was a super-nice guy with a tiny competitive streak. But the way he's been acting … It's more like he's a super-competitive guy with a tiny streak of niceness. And that's not good enough.”

“Well, at least you get to go to Space Camp.”

“I know. It's going to be awesome. And I owe you one. If it weren't for you, Phil would've won, probably. And then I'd be stuck eating Swedish pancakes. No offense.”

“No offense?” I asked. “Um, sorry, but that's totally offensive.”

Emma gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “Whoops—sorry. I forgot I told you about that theory.”

I laughed. “Don't worry about it. I'm totally jealous—but you guys deserve to go.”

She gave me a quick hug, and then we climbed the steps to Rachel's house.

Our other friends were already upstairs. And even though the new Lady Gaga single blared from Rachel's computer, the room felt eerily silent as soon as I stepped into it.

“You guys look great.” I smiled big and tried not to act as awkward as I felt.

Rachel and Yumi both said thanks, but Claire turned away, like I wasn't even there.

Everyone continued getting ready. Rachel changed out of a jean skirt and into a cotton one, stepping around the rejected outfits that covered her floor.

Yumi applied lip gloss in the mirror.

“Cute color,” said Emma, sitting down next to her. “What's it called?”

“Depressed Heiress,” Yumi replied, puckering her lips.

Finally I realized I must look weird just standing there like a wax version of myself, so I sat down next to Claire and checked out her belt. It was turquoise and sparkly—a nice contrast to her black dress. Yumi wore a red one with dark wash jeans and a white V-neck shirt. Rachel's was silver, which would've gone with any of the six outfits she was considering.

“These belts are amazing.” Even though I spoke with sincerity, my words sounded forced—even to me. “I can't believe you made them.”

Rather than answer me, Claire stared into the mirror and pretended like she needed to concentrate on putting in her earrings. But I knew she was faking. Claire pierced her ears when she was nine. She didn't need the mirror—she just didn't want to acknowledge me.

I pressed my lips together, wishing we could talk alone because I didn't want to do this in front of an audience. But I needed to get my apology over with.

“I'm sorry I never told you about my crush on Oliver,” I said. “I know I messed up.”

“Know what?” asked Rachel. “I need to show you guys something in the garage. Just Emma and Yumi, though.” She grabbed their hands and turned to me and Claire. “You two stay here.”

My friends giggled as they hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

Claire rolled her eyes and then turned down the music.

“I'm really sorry,” I said again.

“Whatever. It's not like I couldn't tell you had a massive crush on Oliver.”

“Really?” I asked.

“It was obvious from the moment I told everyone. As soon as I mentioned his name you got this panicked look on your face.”

“I guess I should've said something.”

“You guess?” Claire laughed, not kindly. “There's no guessing. You totally should have—especially since I asked you, flat out, if you liked him.”

“Yeah, you're right. But I didn't
choose
to like the same guy as you. It just happened—accidentally. And I know it seemed sneaky, sending him that no-Candygram without telling you guys. I didn't mean to do it behind your back. I just felt weird talking about it because I thought you'd be mad if you knew I liked him.”

“I am mad,” said Claire. “But only because you weren't honest with me. And also because I can tell Oliver doesn't like me. Not as anything more than a friend, I mean.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. And then I took a deep breath and decided to be even more honest. “I mean, I'm sorry the boy you like doesn't like you back. But given that he's also the boy I like, well, it makes everything more complicated.”

“No kidding,” said Claire.

Just then the door opened. Rachel, Emma, and Yumi all peeked in.

“Are we finally okay now?” asked Rachel.

Claire let out a laugh. “You say that like you haven't been listening at the door.”

“Who me?” asked Rachel, walking back into the room.

We all cracked up.

“Yeah, we're good,” Claire said. “Except for one thing.” She pulled two more sparkly belts from her bag and handed them to me and Emma. Mine was blue and hers was yellow, and once Rachel decided on an outfit (her shiny black pants and a red top) we were ready to go and looking fabulous.

Before I knew it we were there—at the big Valentine's Day dance.

My stomach felt all jumpy as we filed out of Rachel's mom's minivan and into the gym.

Pink and red streamers hung from the ceiling. Hip-hop music blasted from the DJ's speakers. A strobe light flashed, so everyone seemed to move in slow motion. Some kids danced and others wandered around, as if looking for something they couldn't quite find.

“This is awesome!” said Yumi.

“I can't believe we're finally here,” Emma said.

Claire glanced around the room nervously. Looking for Oliver, I realized, with a tinge of sadness.

Soon Taylor's date, Jimmy Brontini, walked over and asked her to dance. Then Jesse asked his friend to dance, and soon other kids started asking their dates to dance. And suddenly, the middle of the room was filled with enough dancing couples that the dance actually looked like a dance as opposed to a big train terminal with lots of lost-looking kids wandering around.

Meanwhile, my friends and I stood off to the side—not one of us dancing or even swaying.

“We can't be wallflowers all night,” Rachel said finally. “Someone do something.” She turned to Claire. “Where's Oliver?”

“Over there.” Claire pointed to the corner of the room, where Oliver, Tobias, Sanjay, and Jonathan were playing freeze tag.

“Aren't you gonna ask him to dance?” asked Rachel.

“Shouldn't he ask me?” Claire wondered.

“He's probably too shy,” said Yumi.

“I say ask him. Since he is your date.”

Claire looked at me, surprised that those words came from my mouth, and I didn't blame her. I surprised myself.

“Go ahead,” I said.

She ran her fingers through her bangs, took a deep breath, and walked across the room. It was too loud to hear what they were saying, but things must've gone well because moments later they walked to the middle of the dance floor and danced.

And watching them wasn't so bad.

Well, it wasn't torture.

Meaning I've definitely experienced worse things.

Like getting a cavity filled, or being swept underwater by a massive wave, or falling off my bike and twisting my ankle, or scraping my knee—or this one time when I tumbled off my ten-speed and twisted my ankle
and
scraped my knee.

My point is, those things are all worse than—

On second thought, never mind.

It turns out that actually I'd rather be doing any of those things if it meant I wouldn't have to watch one of my best friends dance with my crush.

The song seemed to last forever, too, but it did end, eventually. And I survived.

Then a fast song came on and Rachel said, “I'm sick of standing around. Let's dance.”

So we all started swaying and then full-on dancing—swinging our arms and stomping our feet and spinning around, and by the time the next song came on we were having a blast.

Ten minutes later, the DJ played a slow song, so we moved off the dance floor. “Hey, want me to take your picture so you can text it to Nathan?” I asked Yumi. “You look so great.”

“That's okay,” she said.

“Hey, how come you're not on your phone now?” asked Emma. “Are you guys fighting?”

“Nope,” said Yumi. “But his parents got their long-distance bill and flipped out. They took away his phone and he's grounded, so now we're only allowed to IM on weekends and only for ten minutes at a time.”

“That stinks!” I said.

Yumi shrugged. “It seemed bad at first, but it's okay. Turns out it's more fun hanging out with friends who actually live in the same time zone.”

When the next fast song came on, we headed back to the dance floor.

And before I knew it, I forgot to check on Claire and Oliver every two minutes.

In fact, she totally surprised me when she showed up later that night with her blue eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed.

“Where's your date?” Emma asked.

Claire shrugged. “A bunch of guys are playing touch football outside. I think he's with them.”

“But he's your date,” said Rachel. “That's so immature! Do you want me to go get him?”

Claire shook her head. “No, I'd rather hang out with you guys, anyway.”

Rachel and Yumi did a tango while Emma clapped. Claire grinned and grabbed my hands and we both started spinning until we were dizzy, and once we stopped we stumbled and laughed and then started dancing again.

Which is when I realized something. All this time I'd been so worried about not having a date. But I totally missed the most obvious thing.

I wasn't dateless at all.

I had the four best dates in the entire school.