Love is a Four-Letter Word (7 page)

Benji, Mattie, and I walk over to the Golden Dragon together. By the time we get there, half the class has already arrived. Min’s mom meets us at the front door and checks our names off a list.

“Clarissa and Mattie, you’ll both be at table six. Benjamin, you’ll be at table two.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Lu,” Mattie says brightly.

“But —”

Mattie grabs my arm and pulls me in before I can finish.

“What are you doing?” I pull my arm back. “I was going to ask about the seating plan. Do you think she’s serious?”

“Of course she’s serious,” Mattie whispers. “People take seating plans very seriously. You don’t want to be rude.”

“But I always sit with Benji,” I insist.

“You’ll be fine, right Benji? It’s not like you don’t know these people.”

“I guess.” Benji looks unconvinced.

“Maybe you can switch with someone, Benji,” I suggest.

“Hi guys! Thanks for coming! Did you get your seating assignments?” Min asks. She is all dolled-up in an outfit that makes her look a little bit like a pop star and a little bit like a Barbie doll. I’m not sure which part I dislike more.

“About that —” I start, but Min leans in and giggles.

“You can thank me later,” she says, and then rushes off to say hello to someone else.

“Is it just me, or was that weird?” I ask.

“Definitely weird,” Benji agrees. “Well, I guess I should go over to my table now.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come visit,” I promise.

The restaurant is full. Someone has turned the stereo up and groups of girls are singing along and shuffling to the music, tossing their hair and throwing their arms up and giggling like mad. I recognize the song but I’m not really into dancing in front of people. I edge toward the buffet, which is an array of covered dishes that smell tantalizingly delicious. I am considering taking a peek under one of the lids when Min’s dad turns up right beside me.

“Hungry?” Mr. Lu asks.

I blush. “A little,” I say. Thank goodness the lights are dimmed.

Mr. Lu smiles at me. “Dinner is soon enough. Go, dance!” He shoos me toward the makeshift dance floor. Reluctantly I make my way over to the edge of the circle of girls Mattie has joined.

Somehow I get through the next ten minutes, nodding my head and smiling whenever someone says to me, “how much do you love this song?” Finally, Mr. Lu turns the music down and announces that dinner is served.

I pile my plate with egg rolls, chow mein, and plenty of sweet-and-sour chicken. Behind me, Mattie hems and haws over the vegetarian options, spooning little mouthfuls onto her plate.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” I ask.

“I don’t want to pig out in front of Josh,” Mattie whispers.

“I thought you were a feminist,” I say.

Mattie looks torn. “It’s a buffet, I can always get seconds,” she compromises.

I plop another chicken ball onto the mound of food on my plate, like a delicious fried cherry on top of a sundae made of rice and stir-fried vegetables. “Suit yourself.”

There are six people at each table. It becomes clear that the seating arrangements are definitely not random. Mattie and I are at a table with Michael, Josh, Chudy, and Amanda. In front of each place is a name card, carefully lettered in glittery pen. The arrangement is boy–girl, boy–girl. I’m seated between Michael and Chudy. We’ve been paired off in some sort of romantic matchmaking attempt.

I should have known Min would pull a stunt like this. Mattie hasn’t been exactly secretive about her obsession with Josh, and Amanda Krespi has been in love with Chudy Adeyemi ever since he won the countywide public-speaking contest last year. I can understand why; even I have to admit, he has the nicest speaking voice of any kid I know. He presented on global farming practices, and I managed to stay awake for the whole thing. Clearly Min is trying to play matchmaker; so what does it mean that she put me next to Michael? Does she think I like Michael? Did Mattie say something to her?

Or worse, did Michael say something about me?

Thank goodness I took so much food. I have so much to eat that no one could possibly expect me to contribute to the conversation, which is awkward at best.

“Well, this is certainly nice of Min’s parents, isn’t it? It’s very classy, just what I would want for my birthday party,” says Mattie. She has already finished her four mouthfuls of food and is desperately trying to engage someone, anyone, in conversation.

Chudy nods and swallows. “Yes, it’s very nice,” he says politely.

“When’s your birthday, Chudy?” Mattie asks.

Immediately, Amanda says, “May twenty-first.” She flushes the minute the words fly out of her mouth. “I — I remember because last year we sang happy birthday to you early because we were off for Victoria Day on your real birthday.” Amanda smiles weakly and looks around the table for someone to rescue her. “Remember?”

Chudy, always the gentleman, smiles politely at Amanda. “Yes, that’s true,” he says.

Mattie laughs; a little too loudly, if you ask me. “I remember! Amanda you have such a great memory.”

Amanda smiles gratefully at her. It’s a nice save, but a little too late. The crazy is already out there for everyone to see. Mattie turns to Josh and, in a remarkable display of coolness, manages to ask him about his birthday without blushing or squealing.

“August,” he replies.

“It must be hard having a summer birthday,” she says. “Everyone’s always away.”

Josh shrugs. “I usually bring a friend up to my cottage and we go tubing or something.”

“That sounds amazing! I love water sports!” Mattie gushes.

I am fairly certain the only water sport Mattie Cohen has taken part in is swimming, and that was at an all-girls summer camp where it didn’t matter if your hair was tangled or turned green from too much chlorine. I can practically see the wheels in her head turning, imagining herself as the guest of honour at Josh’s cottage, decked out in her flowered bikini and those big pink sunglasses of hers.

“Cool,” says Josh.

“Do you have a canoe at your cottage?” Mattie asks.

“Yup.”

“I took canoeing at camp last year,” Amanda chimes in. She sneaks a glance at Chudy and asks him “Have you ever canoed, Chudy?”

“No,” he says.

“Personally, I think kayaking is way better,” Michael says.

“Yeah, we’ve got a couple of kayaks, too,” Josh says.

Cripes. Has there ever been a more boring conversation? I’m about to excuse myself and hit up the buffet for a second round when Michael looks at me and says, “What about you? Have you ever kayaked, Clarissa?”

“No,” I admit. “I’m not really into water sports. Or any sports really.”

Mattie laughs. “Oh, Clarissa! Don’t be so modest!”

“It’s true,” I insist. “I might as well be allergic to sports.”

“You’re pretty good at badminton,” Michael says.

I don’t know who is more surprised, me or Mattie. I avoid looking in her direction, but out of the corner of my eye I can see her eyebrows are raised and she is most definitely sending me an I Told You So look.

“It’s not like it’s one of the hard sports,” I mutter.

“I like badminton,” Josh says.

“Me, too! Oh my gosh! I just had the best idea. We should play mixed doubles in the badminton tournament!”

Josh, Michael, and I stare at Mattie with blank expressions on our faces. “The what?” I ask.

Mattie rolls her eyes. “You know, the senior badminton tournament? At lunch hour? It’s in two weeks?” When none of us shows even the slightest glimmer of recognition, Mattie huffs and exclaims, “Am I the only one who listens to morning announcements?”

“No, I remember something about that,” Chudy says.

Mattie smiles gratefully at him. “Well? What do you think?”

Mattie looks from me to Josh to Michael expectantly. I feel bad, but competitive sports, even badminton, really aren’t my thing. Josh starts digging around his chicken fried rice. The silence is becoming unbearably long until Michael pipes up.

“Sure,” he says. “I’m in. Clarissa?” Michael is looking right at me. If you’ve ever had someone look straight into your eyes you know how difficult it can be to look away, especially if that someone has particularly nice eyes, blue with a little bit of green, like those cat’s eye marbles.

Suddenly my throat feels dry and I have to clear it a few times before I’m able to speak. “Okay, but only if Josh plays, too.”

Josh shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Great! So it’s settled! I’ll sign us up on Monday. Clarissa will play with Michael and I’ll play with Josh!” Mattie should be over the moon excited, but her voice sounds a little strained and she’s in such a hurry to leave the table that she almost knocks the chair over as she stands and rushes over to the buffet. I get up to follow her.

At the buffet, I lean over and whisper, “Pretty smooth, huh?” Mattie turns her back to me and roots through the pile of chicken balls. I tap her shoulder. “Hello? I said that was pretty smooth.”

Mattie whirls around, nostrils flaring and an angry flush creeping up her neck toward her cheeks. “You know, sometimes you can be really mean!”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I heard you, but I don’t get it.”

“Oh, yeah, right. What was all that ‘only if Josh plays’ business?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to make sure he got the message.”

“Oh, he got the message all right. Him and everyone else at the table.”

“CRIPES, Mattie, what are you talking about? Why can’t you talk like a normal person?”

Mattie’s jaw drops. “You’re the one who isn’t normal, Clarissa! You know how much I like Josh. I can’t believe you would do that to me, or to Michael.”

“What does Michael have to do with anything?”

But Mattie stomps away and pulls up a chair at Min’s table. Fine, if she wants to be that way then it’s her choice. I head back to table six and try to ignore the sound of Mattie sniffing.

After dinner, the music comes back on. People start mingling again. There is less dancing, thank goodness, probably because people are too full to do much in the way of moving. Mattie is sitting in a corner sniffing into a napkin and surrounded by girls. Every once in a while she looks across the room at me with her weepy red eyes. Whenever I catch her glance she bursts into fresh bouts of wailing. Cripes.

When no one’s looking, I grab Benji and pull him into the women’s washroom.

“Boy are you in trouble,” Benji whispers.

“Why? What did I do?” I cry.

“She thinks you’re trying to steal Josh from her.”

“What?”

“Shh!” Benji looks around frantically before pulling me into a stall, locking the door behind us. “What if someone finds us? I’m not supposed to be in here.”

I make a concerted effort to lower my voice. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Why does she think that?”

Benji shrugs. “Apparently you said you would only play badminton if Josh plays.”

“So?”

Benji looks disappointed, but not all that surprised. “It’s true? You actually said that?”

“I guess, but I was doing it for her benefit.”

Benji shakes his head. “Oh, Clarissa, don’t you see? You made it sound like the only reason you’re playing is because Josh is playing, so now Mattie thinks you like him.”

I am aghast. “What? That’s not it at all! I just said that so Josh would have to play! I did it for her sake!”

Benji pats my shoulder. “I know that, but Mattie doesn’t, and Michael probably doesn’t either.”

“I don’t care what Michael thinks,” I say, maybe a little too quickly. Benji says nothing. “Anyway, what do I do now? How do I convince Mattie that she’s being a crazy drama queen and that she can have stupid Josh Simmons?”

“First of all, I wouldn’t put it that way. Second of all, you should just tell her,” he says simply.

“That’s what I tried to do before but she stomped off and cried her eyes out to anyone who would listen!”

Benji smiles sympathetically. “You may have to try a few times.”

A few times is an understatement. I decide to give her some room for the rest of the party. Even if I wanted to approach her, I’d have to make my way through an army of girls who are protecting her from the likes of me.

Instead I flop on a chair next to Benji and listen to him rattle on about rehearsal and his new artsy friends. “Charity was telling us about this audition she had once where she had to eat a bowl of pink cereal. It turned out she was allergic to the dye in the cereal and her throat swelled shut and she had to be rushed to the hospital. The casting director sent her flowers and now she gets an audition for every one of his commercials. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Mmm.” It’s not that I don’t care about Charity Smith-Jones and her fabulous acting career, I just don’t care to hear about it every spare moment I get to spend with Benji. He’s only known her a few weeks. We’ve been friends forever. I wonder if he bores her to death with stories about me. Probably not.

“Can I sit with you guys?” Michael drags a chair and joins us at the edge of the dance floor. Across the room, Mattie and her bodyguards shake their heads and start whispering furiously.

“What’s with them?” Michael asks, nodding in their direction.

“Who knows,” I lie. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Mattie thinks Clarissa likes Josh,” Benji blurts out.

I don’t know who is redder, me or Michael. The last thing I want is for him to see me blushing. I shouldn’t have worried, Michael is looking down at his shoes. “Oh,” he manages.

“But I don’t!” I say quickly. “I don’t like him. Mattie does. I just wanted to make sure he signed up for badminton. For her sake.”

“Oh,” Michael says. “That’s good. I mean, that’s nice of you to do. For Mattie.”

Benji looks like he’s about to bolt but I don’t think I could sit here and talk to Michael all by myself, so I do the only thing I can think of to get him to stay put. “So, Benji was telling me about rehearsals. Did you know he’s playing the Cowardly Lion in
The Wizard of Oz
?”

“For real? Like, singing and dancing and everything?” Michael asks.

Benji nods, blushing with pleasure. “I think it’s going to be really good,” he gushes. “Just wait till you see our
Dorothy.” He launches into one of his many Charity stories, which I know practically by heart, but this time it doesn’t bother me so much.

Michael is genuinely interested. “When is it?” he asks.

“At the end of May,” Benji says casually, as if he hasn’t been crossing off the days on his calendar every night.

“Cool. Do I get tickets from you?”

Benji is elated. “Sure! Or you can call the box office or else buy them in person at Flowers Plus — that’s where the assistant director works during the week.”

“When are you going, Clarissa?”

Benji and I exchange glances. In all the Wizard talk, this is one thing we haven’t discussed yet. “Probably opening night, but maybe closing. Or both. I haven’t decided.”

“Well, when you decide, let me know. I’ll come that night, too.”

“Sure,” I say. Is this a date? Is Michael asking me out on a date? Does it count as a date if the boy suggests it but you have to call him and tell him when and where?

“Mattie will probably be there, too,” I say. “That is if she’s speaking to me at that point.”

“That’s cool, maybe we can all sit together. We’ll be your own personal fan club, Benji.”

Benji smiles. “Cool,” he repeats. We lapse into silence, Benji looking all dopey and starry-eyed, probably contemplating what it will feel like to have groupies; Michael helping himself to a half-eaten slice of birthday cake that someone left at the table; and me wondering whether or not I’ve just agreed to go on a date with Michael Greenblat.