Beyond Clueless (12 page)

And here I was all day, obsessing over the fact that some guy had
said
he thought I was beautiful, while everyone else apparently was going at each other like . . . like . . . rabbits in heat!

“I dunno, it just kind of happened,” Xiang said breezily. “I mean, we snuck into the room after the audition to talk, and then the next thing I knew . . .” She shrugged.

“Man, Kirby’s gonna regret not having been here for
this
,” Oliver breathed.

“I know. It’s crazy, right?” squealed Xiang, clearly delighted to be the center of attention. “It’s weird how it’s changed the whole dynamic with Parker. I mean, before I was all jittery around him, but now it’s just, like, I’m not hesitant at all. I just want to grab him and, like, you know?”

No, we don’t know
, I wanted to say. She was really pissing me off, and I wasn’t exactly sure why.

At least she wasn’t using that high, babyish voice anymore.

Just then we heard a car pull into the driveway, and Oliver sprang up to look out the window.

“Yup, that’s Dad. I gotta roll. Congratulations again on getting the part, Marty. You deserve it.” He gave me a solid hug. What a cutie.

Then he turned to Xiang uncertainly. “And . . . uh, congratulations, I guess.”

Jimmy jumped up, too. “Oooh, look at the time. Sorry, ladies, I have to finish my chem lab report for tomorrow. Later!”

He gave us ironic air kisses, and then—
whoosh
—they were gone.

I wouldn’t have guessed it, but apparently my gay boys weren’t terribly comfortable when girls started talking about hooking up.

Xiang pulled out her cell phone and started tapping away. I got up and watched through the window as Oliver walked to the red Honda idling in the driveway.

Which classroom had Xiang picked for her little
liaison
? Oh, man—Mr. Dartagnon’s room? No, too far away from the auditions. Eww, didn’t Xiang say Sister Mary Alice had
couches
in her classroom?

Outside, Oliver said something to his dad, who had gotten out of the car, and they both cracked up laughing. His dad had cropped gray hair and a goatee; actually, he was pretty handsome for an old guy. I could see where Oliver got his looks from.

Oliver opened the driver’s side door and dropped into the seat, then carefully backed the car out of the driveway. Like me, Jimmy just stood there, off to the side, watching Oliver maneuver the Honda. Then Jimmy waved up at me before switching on a flashlight and heading into the backyard, toward the woods.

“So,” I said, turning to Xiang, who was still tapping at her phone. “What’s your plan?”

“Plan?”

“I mean, what’s next? How is this whole Blarker thing going to work?” I could feel an edge in my own voice, and I hated the way I sounded: critical, aggressive.

Xiang’s glow-y aura dimmed a bit. “Um, I dunno. I guess we’ll just figure it out. We see each other every weekend at CYO. Plus, there weren’t that many people auditioning for the musical’s orchestra today, so we’ll probably both get in.”

I realized we hadn’t even discussed her audition at all, not even at dinner.

“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you? You’re obsessed.”

Xiang smirked dismissively and kept on tapping away. I got the distinct impression that she didn’t think I could understand, nonsmoker and non-hooking-up virgin that I am.

“Fine, whatever,” I said wearily. Xiang’s phone buzzed as I left to retrieve my book bag from downstairs. I glanced back to see her sprawled over my bed, a stupid grin spread over her face as she read the new message.

Later, after Xiang had gone home, I called Jimmy.

“Xiang’s not one to take things slow, huh?” I asked, staring at my ceiling from the exact same spot where Xiang had been sending pornographic text messages an hour ago. (OK, I don’t
know
that they were pornographic.)

Jimmy whistled. “Yeah, I was definitely not expecting that!”

“Yeah . . .”

“Kind of like you and what’s-his-face,” Jimmy said teasingly. He was referring to Felix, obviously—I had called Jimmy the minute I left the audition yesterday to tell him all about Felix and his . . . whatever that was. Compliment? Courtship attempt?

“Oh, please. I have no idea what’s actually going on with Felix. If anything. I mean, maybe he was just joking, or having a stroke or something.”

“Uh-huh,” Jimmy said, and I didn’t have to see him to know the skeptical expression on his face.

OK, time to put
him
on the defensive. “So how’s it going with Derek?”

Jimmy sighed loudly.

“That bad?” I asked, joking.

“What? No, that was a happy sigh! A very happy sigh! I’m smiling!”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” I said mechanically. (Look, there’s only so much enthusiasm I can be expected to show. Derek’s nice and all, but you can’t blame me for not being over the moon about him taking my Jimmy away from me.)

“All this romance in the air,” Jimmy mused. “Even Kirby’s got
something
going on, even if it is in cyberspace.”

“I guess the only odd one out in our little group is Oliver,” I said. “Poor guy. He seemed pretty heartbroken the other week, talking about his ex.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve heard that the tide is turning for him,” Jimmy said.

“Really? He’s got a crush?” I asked.

“Yup, that’s what Derek says. But Oliver swore Derek to absolute secrecy, so don’t you
dare
breathe a word of this to anyone. Derek would kill me if he knew I was spilling the beans—or at least the one tiny bean that he spilled to me. I mean, he would kill me if Oliver didn’t kill him first for telling me. And he isn’t telling Kirby, because Kirby would totally blab about it.”

“OK, now you’re making my head hurt,” I said. “Honestly, who am I gonna tell? And there’s no way I even know this person.”

“Well, don’t mention anything about a crush to
Oliver
, for starters,” Jimmy said, yawning. “Or Derek. Or anyone. But anyway, it’s time to hang up. I seriously need to do this chemistry shit.”

“Yeah, OK,” I murmured gloomily.

“Yeah, OK?’ You sound kind of down. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, sitting up. “I’m just tired. Sorry. Go, go. Learn some science! We’ll talk later. Are you guys coming to the first rehearsal on Thursday?”

“I don’t think Mistress McCafferty will let us miss
any
of the full-cast rehearsals, so don’t worry—you’ll be seeing an awful lot of me and Oliver.”

“Aww, you guys are the best. You know I love you, right?”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night, cucumber cutie.”

“G’night, my pretty potato.”

T
he next morning at school I received an unexpected gift from Jenny McCafferty.

She had created a Facebook group for
Into the Woods
(“SIGN UP FOR IMPORTANT LAST-MINUTE EMERGENCY UPDATES!!!”), so I was given the
perfect
excuse to friend Felix in order to conduct some deep research on him. So I sent off my friend request to him (and everyone else, too, to not appear too stalkerish) and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Honestly, I was getting sick of checking my various devices, especially since I had spent all of
yesterday
checking my inbox for the cast list.

By the end of the day, everyone else had signed up to the group and answered my friend requests. And I mean everyone. Ferchrissake,
Mrs. Murray
signed up, and now we were online BFFs.
Don’t they have computers at St. Paul’s? Or phones?

At least Felix didn’t join the Facebook group and ignore my invitation—could you just imagine if
that
had happened?

“It is very uncool of him,” Xiang agreed as we walked toward the parking lot, where my mom was waiting in the car.
But Xiang’s distant, moony expression made me think she wasn’t even really listening; she and Parker had been officially notified that they were both in the show’s orchestra, so there were definitely going to be some hot times in the orchestra pit this fall. Eww. Meanwhile, I was
supposed
to be all psyched and giddy over getting the Little Red Riding Hood part.

A crap day.

The next morning was Thursday, the first rehearsal day, and it was the first time since coming to Our Lady that I really spent time examining myself in the mirror and gussying up before heading off to school. I mean, I would be interacting with boys, and now that Felix had said I was beautiful, I had a reputation to uphold! And if his lack of online activity meant that he wasn’t that into me, maybe he’d think twice?

I managed to get to Jerry Hall a bit early. When I walked into Room A, one of three rehearsal spaces tucked away behind the auditorium, I quickly learned that I didn’t have anything to worry about: Felix was instantly at my side, breathing into my ear.

“Hiya.”

Suddenly the world went from an angry, dirty magenta to a cool, sparkly white.

I turned, smiling. “Hi, there.”

His perfect row of upper teeth was absolutely hypnotic.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

Ohhh, meltiness . . .

“Really?” I exhaled.

Then I suddenly remembered I was mad at him. “Well, you know there are these newfangled things called computers, not to mention phones? Those strange, thin boxes that glow?”

He looked away, across the room, still smiling that killer smile. “Oh, you mean Facebook. I got your invitation in my e-mail, but I can’t get my Facebook account to work. I think someone hijacked my password and changed it. Probably one of my buds at St. Paul’s.” He grabbed my hand and held it, entwining his fingers with mine. “But were you thinking about me?”

I was surprised by the sudden physical contact and a little embarrassed by the question. What am I supposed to say: “Oh, honey.
Incessantly
”? I mean, I couldn’t say that!

I decided to play it coy. “Maaaybe . . .”

His grin grew even wider. “Sweet. ’Cause I can’t get you out of my head.”

I just blushed in response. Never in my life had anyone ever said anything remotely like that to me, and the fact that it was coming from the most beautiful person on the planet was just . . . unreal. He was so forward, so direct; it was unnerving.

Clearly, I was dreaming. I was asleep in my bedroom on Iroquois Trail, drooling on my pillow and strangling a pink Care Bear with my twisted sheets.

Or was I?

Suddenly he pulled his hand away, stepped back, and
kinda slumped, looking down at the floor. “Sorry, I’m probably freaking you out. I mean, I’m freaking me out!”

“No, no,” I said, putting a hand on his upper arm.

There was a muscle there. A proper, wonderful muscle.

“It’s just—I dunno. I just feel like we have a connection,” he said. “You probably think I’m nuts.” He brushed a fallen lock of hair back from his eyes and peered at me.

“I don’t think you’re nuts.” We just looked at each other for a long moment, and I was tongue-tied. I mean, what was the appropriate response? Seriously. Is there something—anything—to say? Something about the play, the weather, politics, sports . . .?

“Actually, I’m a liar. You definitely are nuts.”

Did I just say that? Did I just completely kill the moment by trying to be coy and funny? Oh, God. A classic Marty misfire.

But it wasn’t. He very gently leaned forward and placed his lips against mine.

Reality came back hard and fast as I broke away from the kiss and saw Jimmy staring at us. I thought we were alone in the room, but he must have just walked in, holding a pile of identical paperback books. He looked shocked. Felix ran a hand through his hair and kind of stepped back from me, flustered.

A wave of shame washed over me. I mean, I
knew
I had nothing to be ashamed of, but I still felt the feeling throughout my body. Jimmy was my, like, soulmate, and to have him
see me . . . I dunno, it just felt super-awkward. But I didn’t have time to process everything, because Jenny barged in, clapping a hand against her clipboard and shouting “Listen up!” to a bunch of people walking in behind her. Oliver stumbled in, too, holding more of those paperbacks in his arms.

Then I turned back toward Felix, who locked eyes with mine and smiled a small, secret smile, and I felt something unfurl within me.

“OK, guys, here are your scripts!” Jenny was saying. “Grab one and make sure to write your name on the inside cover—we don’t want them getting all mixed up once you’ve started highlighting and taking notes on blocking. We’re still missing a few folks, but Sister Mary Alice and Mrs. Murray are on their way, so let’s be ready when they come in. Grab yourself a chair from the back, and let’s arrange them in four rows, facing this wall. On this show, we’re going to hit the ground running!” Jenny looked around the room with bright eyes.

God, she was irritating.

I pivoted toward Felix and did a quick “Hit the ground running!” McCafferty imitation, and he chuckled soundlessly in response. As I turned back, I thought I saw Jenny meet my glance, but she quickly looked down and spread the wobbly piles of scripts into two fans across the table. Everyone moseyed over toward them, and Oliver gave me a slow wink as he handed me mine. Jimmy was standing next to him, and I tried to make eye contact, dying to know what
he was thinking about me and Felix. Unfortunately, he was too busy checking off people’s names on Jenny’s clipboard.