Miss Match (8 page)

“Uh…” While I’m thinking of something to say, Yasmin struts in to the beat of the music and grabs a can of Coke off the counter. “Hey, Yas! Come here!”

“Where’s Maddie?” he asks.

“Kevin, have you met Yasmin yet?”

She sticks her bejeweled hand into the Lay’s bag Kevin’s holding and draws out a freakishly large chip. “I don’t think so, but I’ve been dying to meet you. You played really great against Heritage last weekend.”

While he stares at her, dumbstruck, she gives me a thick-lashed wink. Her hair is tousled (the only time I see it the least bit messy is when she’s dancing), and her cheeks
are sporting a radiant flush. The quintessential boy magnet. “I was just getting a quick drink, and then I’m going to hit the dance floor. Want to come?” she asks Kevin, nibbling on the chip.

He looks at me, then at her, and back at me. “Tell Maddie where I am, if you see her. I have something important to ask her tonight.”

Oh, crap!

Derek and Maddie are still sitting at the poolside table, chatting. Maddie’s leaning forward, which is a sign she’s interested in whatever he’s saying. Or it could be a sign that she can’t hear him over this deafening music.

I can’t keep fighting Kevin off. He’s determined to ask Maddie to the dance, and she’s going to say yes, and that will be it for Derek. More than that, it’ll be Miss Match’s first flat-out failure to deliver.

No! I can’t let that happen. This has
got
to work out. I approach the table, listening in case I can pick up on any of their conversation. But of course the music’s too freaking loud.

Maddie looks up. “Hey, sis. So, you ready to finish our talk?”

“Uh, actually, I’m feeling a lot better now.” I stand taller, square my shoulders, and beam at her. “There’s a bowl of peanut butter M&M’s in the kitchen.” Okay, so I didn’t really see any. But there
could
be, and they’re Maddie’s favorite. She takes the bait.

“Well, Derek, it’s been great hanging out with you. I’ll see you inside,” Maddie says.

“How’d it go?” I ask Derek as soon as Maddie’s gone.

“She’s really nice. Like you.”

I smile. “Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t change your mind about her, you know, once you got to know her a little better.” I scoot my chair beside his and lean in close to him. Man, if my next boyfriend smells half as scrumptious as Derek, I’ll be in heaven. “I need to tell you something. There’s a guy named Kevin who’s hot for Maddie, and I know he’s going to ask her to the homecoming dance tonight. You’ve got to beat him. You’ve got to ask Maddie first.”

“Tonight?” Derek taps his fingers on the table and shifts in his chair, apparently distracted.

Putting my hand on top of his, I give him a no-nonsense look. “Yes, tonight. The sooner the better.” I stand and pluck a bunch of flowers from the huge clay pot by the pool. “Take these.”

He rises and stares at the flowers in my hand, frozen. What, is he nervous? Is he having second thoughts?

“Derek, I’m sure she’s going to say yes.” I take a step closer and have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. In the moonlight, his eyes are a deep midnight blue. “But if she says yes to Kevin, she’s not going to say yes to you.” I hold out the makeshift bouquet.

“This isn’t how I wanted to ask her, Sasha. I wanted to ask her in a special way. I’ve been planning…” He takes the flowers and stares at them, his temples pulsating. A moment later he turns away from me and takes a few steps toward the swimming pool. Some guys are splashing around, trying to get Kennedy to jump in.

“I’m sure it’s a great plan, Derek. You’re sweet like that. But—”

“It won’t be the end of the world if she goes with Kevin,” he says over his shoulder. “I’m just not ready to ask her.” He lays the flowers in the pot and walks into the
house. He doesn’t look back, not even when Kennedy does a cannonball and screams hysterically ’cause the water’s so cold.

After we take Derek home, Yas says, “Sheesh. He got all quiet all of a sudden. He just sat back there and gnawed on a toothpick the whole ride home. Did Maddie give him the cold shoulder?”

I sigh. “No. I think she might be into him. Trouble is, Kevin’s into
her
. And Derek doesn’t seem like the fighting type.” We drive a few miles, coming into the bright lights of Salt Lake City.

Yas pops a piece of Orbit in her mouth and passes me one. “Well, he’s definitely not into me.”

“Derek?”

“No. Kevin. I got him dancing, but it was like he thought I had cooties or something.”

Huh, that’s bizarre. Typically, guys are way touchy-feely around her, and she has to keep swatting them away. “I bet that was refreshing,” I say, trying to put myself in her adorable polka-dotted flats.

Yas’s mouth drops open, revealing a wad of mint-green gum. “
Refreshing?
Try
humiliating!” She screeches to a halt at the stoplight and flips down her vanity mirror. “Am I losing my touch? Am I suddenly butt ugly? Am I hideous?” She snaps the visor back in place and then shudders. “Do I have BO?”

I pretend to sniff her armpit and she pushes me away, laughing. “Babe, you’re as hot as ever,” I say. “There’s definitely something wrong with that boy.”

Hang on a sec. Could it be? Is Kevin so into my sister he can’t even dance with another girl? Or is he just afraid that Maddie’s the jealous type, and he didn’t want to risk her seeing him dancing with another girl ’cause she’s his first choice of homecoming date?

Right before Maddie and her friends leave for the movies Saturday night, I snap a picture of them. She looks so cute in her new trousers, and I think Derek might appreciate seeing the photo. So I e-mail it to him, hoping it will inspire him to pop the question sooner rather than later. However, I never hear a peep from him the whole weekend, and he’s not in chemistry Monday morning.

I hope he knows I’m not giving him a refund just because he’s dropped off the face of the earth.

Yeah, right. Who am I fooling? I’m worried about the guy. This isn’t like him.

Ten minutes before the school day is officially over, I’m sitting in English class. We’re supposed to be writing about our favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem or story, but I’m just doodling. It’s completely quiet in here, except for the occasional paper shuffle or chair scoot. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on my journal entry, ’cause I’m still wondering why Derek isn’t at school today. Did I freak him out or push him too hard? I was just trying to keep it real. If he wants to go to homecoming with Maddie, he’s got to act fast. I don’t want him to miss out on his chance, that’s all.

I happen to glance out the little window in the door just as Kevin and two of his jock pals walk by with a big black trash bag. Oh no! What are they up to?

I spring up, grab my backpack, and scurry to the front of the classroom. The teacher looks up from a gargantuan book and peers at me over his reading glasses. “Mr. Schockley?” Though I’m whispering,
I know the entire class is listening in. “I totally spaced that my mom’s picking me up early from school for a doctor’s appointment. Is it okay if I go a few minutes early today?”

He jiggles his jaw, which incidentally jiggles his chins. (That’s right, plural.) I smile and tilt my head a little to the right, hoping to appear every inch the angelic student.

“All right, Miss Finnegan. But next time, let’s get a note from the attendance office.”

“Yes, sir.” I swing open the door and run in the direction the boys were heading, right to Maddie’s locker. One is fooling with her combo while the others are taking all sorts of balls out of the bag.

“What are you guys doing?” I ask.

Looking startled, Kevin straightens and tucks a basketball under his arm. “Just decorating her locker. Don’t worry about it.” He shoots me a
stay out of it
glare and proceeds to stuff her locker with the balls.

“I never heard of the football players decorating the cheerleaders’ lockers,” I say. “Isn’t it, you know, the other way around?”

Kevin strokes the beginnings of a goatee with his free hand. “That sounds
a little sexist, don’t you think? Here at Snowcrest, we are an equal-opportunity sports program.” The guys snicker and I roll my eyes.

“Perhaps you should take lessons on decorating lockers from the girls, then. A bunch of random balls doesn’t exactly say, ‘Good luck cheering,’ or whatever.”

Kevin opens his mouth to say something—

“Two minutes!” one of the guys warns, tapping his watch. They cram the remaining balls in as quickly as possible. Then Kevin slams the locker, sticks a sign on the door, and they all disappear around the corner.

The sign reads:
I didn’t have the balls to ask you in person. Will you go to homecoming with me? Kevin.

I’m so not kidding.

I peel the sign off and pull out my cell. Yasmin’s number goes right into voice-mail. Crap. I punch in Derek’s digits.
Please, Derek, answer.
No luck. The hall is suddenly jammed with people, and the sounds of voices, lockers banging, and someone’s rap music fill the air. I glance over to where Kevin is waiting and see his head pop around the corner for a split second before going back into hiding.

Come on, Miss Match, think of something. Anything!

Maddie is heading straight for me, a textbook clenched to her chest. She’s laughing at something her friend Jenny has just said. She suddenly stops laughing and points at something by the doors on the opposite side of the hall. Something I can’t see from where I’m standing guard over Maddie’s locker. Everyone freezes, staring at whatever she and several others are pointing at.

Clop, clop, clop.

What the—?

I’m about to abandon my post to see what’s captured everyone’s attention, when a real live white horse trots into the hall, someone dressed like a knight on its back. The horse is so tall, and looks so out of place at Snowcrest High School. Its long white mane and tail are brushed, and a red blanket with a gold shield emblem is draped over its back. The rider is wearing full knight apparel: from mask to body armor to metal boots. But instead of a sword or shield, he’s holding a bouquet of yellow daisies.

Daisies? Could it be…? Oh. My. God!

The knight looks up and down the hall
and then steers the horse right for Maddie. By now a crowd of teachers has gathered. Maddie looks around her nervously, clutching her book to her chest even tighter. When the knight holds the flowers down to her, her face turns cherry red. I run up to her as she takes the bouquet. There’s a note on it:
Dear Princess, I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the homecoming dance
.

She starts giggling and Jenny starts shrieking. The shrieking is contagious: I think I’m even doing it.

But Mr. Green, the principal, isn’t sharing in the excitement. “Farm animals are not allowed on school grounds. Remove your helmet at once.”

Derek does as he’s told, his dark blue gaze set on the still-blushing Maddie. “Well?” he asks her.

Maddie does a bit of a guppy impersonation before saying, “Yes!”

The crowd goes wild, whistling, clapping, and cheering. When they finally settle down, Mr. Green asks, “What is your name, young man?”

He grins. “Derek Urban.”

“Derek Urban, you are suspended for a whole week. Get that animal out of the
building immediately.” Next he turns to Ms. Whitehead, his secretary, and says, “Contact his parents.”

Everyone boos, even some of the teachers. But Derek’s still smiling as he puts his helmet back on. He gives his horse a kick and heads out, the clopping of hooves echoing magnificently in the otherwise silent school.

Her eyes all starry, Maddie practically floats to her locker. In all the excitement I totally spaced Kevin’s ballsy invitation. Maddie opens her locker, releasing the bouncy avalanche, sidesteps a soccer ball, and goes on with her business as if her locker being stuffed with balls is an everyday thing. She puts her hand to her heart and sighs, “The most romantic invitation to a dance in history…and it happened to
me
.” Then my sis twirls on her toes and drifts over to a group of squealing cheerleaders, who are no doubt waiting to get the scoop on her mysterious knight in shining armor.

I watch the girls leave, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. Yet another satisfied client for Miss Match. Now I can go home and choose another case to work on.
However, when I see Kevin, his head down, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other grasping the garbage bag, I wipe the grin off my face.

This victory for Derek equals a major loss for Kevin. And I can be sure this five-star athlete isn’t used to losing.

“Want some help?” I ask. “With the balls?”

He shrugs his left shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

Most of the balls have gathered by the Western Civ classroom, across the way. We throw the balls in the bag, one by one. I keep replaying the whole knight scene in my mind. I can’t believe Derek came up with something so original and romantic all by himself. No
wonder
he didn’t want to ask Maddie to the dance at Ruffalo’s party last Friday. And he totally broke school rules to ask her. The poor guy’s suspended for a whole week!

How cool is that?

“Hey, are you going to put that football in the sack, or are you keeping it as a souvenir?” Kevin asks.

“Oh, here. Sorry.” I toss it over.

When we’ve picked up the last ball in
sight, the bag is only half full. “Someone must’ve kicked your balls down the hall,” I say.

He snorts. “You can say
that
again.”

I’m sitting on my Vespa, putting on my helmet, when my cell phone rings. “Hey, Sasha! I saw you called. Sorry I missed you,” Yas says.

“No biggie, girl. Guess what?”

“Can we skip the part where I have to guess and you just tell me straight up?”

“Oh, okay.” I take a deep breath. “Derek asked Maddie to homecoming…and she said yes!”

“Wait a minute. Is this the knight in shining armor thing? I heard about it from Brian. I guess some guy came riding—”

“Yes! Isn’t it awesome?”

“You get better at your matchmaking gig every day.”

“Actually, the knight thing was his idea. I had nothing to do with it,” I admit.

“Wow.”

“I’ll say. So now that that case is all wrapped up, want to celebrate?”

“But it’s Monday.”

“Let’s go to Starbucks and see if there
are any cute U of U guys there,” I suggest. “My treat.”

“Okay. I just need to freshen up real quick and then I’ll be there.”

“Freshen up” is Yasmin-speak for “brush hair and teeth, gargle some Scope, reapply eyeliner and lipstick, spritz on some perfume, and change into a totally new outfit (including switching handbags when germane).” I think getting ready is a pain in the butt one time a day, let alone two or three. But that’s just me.

So anyway, I’ve got at least thirty minutes before Yas will be there, plenty of time to buzz over to Mrs. Woosely’s house real quick.

“Who is it?” Mrs. Woosely hollers after I bang the brass knocker on her front door.