At First Sight Page 7

  “Really?” She laughed. “That’s cool. I’m more into metal myself, but I like a lot of punk, too… .”

  After that we kept on chatting, with the other girl, Haley, joining in once the topic turned to movies—apparently her favorite topic, since, as she informed me almost immediately, she wanted to be a filmmaker one day. Now and then Marcus and Jake jumped into our conversation as well, though they spent the rest of the time arguing with each other about sports.

  But as cool and nice as they all seemed, I only managed to keep about half my attention on Riley’s friends. The rest was focused on Chelsea, aka Ms. Fake ’n’ Flirty, who was completely monopolizing Riley’s attention. Every time I peeked over at them, she seemed to be touching him. Or smiling at him. Or leaning toward him so he could look down her shirt. Not that he actually did that. At least not while I was looking. But still …

  Finally, after everyone had finished their ice cream, Marcus grabbed Haley’s arm to check her watch. “Hey, there’s a monster movie marathon on TV tonight starting at midnight. Who’s up for watching at my house?”

  “I’m there,” Jake said. “But only if there’s some of your mom’s awesome butterscotch cookies.”

  Rachel laughed. “When have we ever gone to Marcus’s and his mom didn’t have those cookies waiting for us?” she said. “Anyway, I’m in too, but I can’t stay too late. I have gymnastics in the morning.”

  “So it’s a plan?” Marcus glanced around at the rest of us.

  I seemed to be included in the invitation, but I hesitated before answering. It felt kind of weird to be heading off to hang at the house of someone I’d only met like an hour ago, even though Marcus and the rest of them all seemed totally normal and non-serial-killerish. Besides, I wanted to make sure Riley was going before I committed to anything.

  Riley shrugged. “It’s not a Beast concert, but it beats homework,” he joked. “I’m in.”

  “Me too!” Chelsea spoke up immediately. Then she giggled. “That is, if a non—Grove High person is allowed to come?”

  “Any Planetarium Girl of Riley’s is always welcome,” Marcus replied with a grin. Then, seeming to remember I was there, too, he added, “Any music pals of Riley’s too. You coming, Lauren?”

  “Thanks, but I think I’d better pass.” I stood up, visions of more annoying flirting dancing through my head. If Chelsea was already all over Riley in public, who knew how she’d be once they were tucked away in somebody’s dark basement or wherever. I so didn’t need to see that.

  “Aw, you sure?” Rachel sounded genuinely disappointed. “You haven’t lived till you’ve tried Marcus’s mom’s cookies.”

  Riley nodded. “She’s like a baking genius. Come on, Lauren. It’ll be fun.”

  I forced a smile. “Maybe next time.”

  They walked me back to my car over near the Cave Club. I had no idea where Britt had gone or how she and Todd had gotten home, but I wasn’t too worried about it. Britt was nothing if not resourceful.

  Riley hung back a little apart from the others as I fished in my purse for my keys. “It was great getting to know you better,” he told me quietly.

  “Yeah, me too.” I glanced up at him. He was looking back at me, his face sort of serious. For a second we just stayed there like that, looking at each other. Ping. Ping. P—

  “Come on, Riley!” Chelsea raced over, ponytail and various other portions of her anatomy bouncing. “I can’t wait to get to Marcus’s house. I love monster movies—just promise you’ll protect me if I get too scared!” Giggle, giggle, head tilt.

  That was enough for me. Enough games, enough wondering what Riley was thinking about me, and definitely enough Fake Planetarium Girl.

  “Night, everyone,” I called out quickly. Then I jumped in my car, slammed the door shut, and gunned it out of the parking space without a backward glance.

  Nine

  Hi L!

  Last night was fun, right? I’m still humming that “Crash” song the Beast debuted at the show. Btw, my friends all thought you were great. 2 bad you couldn’t come to M’s after ice cream. You fit right in like 1 of us. Glad we met up!

  R.

  I rested my chin on one hand, staring at the Facebook message from Riley. It was Saturday morning. I’d woken up from a dream about eating ice cream in Brazil and immediately started wondering how things had gone last night after I left. And the message left me wondering more than ever.

  There was one way to find out what I wanted to know. I could answer the message and take it from there.

  Hi Riley,

  The Beast is always great. Meeting your friends was great, too. They’re all really cool. Marcus kinda reminds me of my friend Britt — always trying 2 set peeps up w/each other, ha ha.

  L.

  There. I sat back from the keyboard. That should do it.

  I only had to wait about thirty seconds before his answer came:

  Marcus is a freak. He’s always got something up his sleeve. That’s what makes him so much fun, lol.

  Hmm. He still wasn’t mentioning Faker Girl. I skimmed the brief message again, trying to interpret what that meant. Was it a good sign? Or did it not mean anything at all?

  Maybe it was time to stop with the games and just come out with it. I typed fast so I wouldn’t chicken out.

  So that Chelsea seemed nice. She really seemed to like u a lot. Think she’s really

  P. Girl?

  I hit send, then immediately regretted it. What was I doing? By asking that question I’d all but told him I wasn’t Planetarium Girl. Which wasn’t, you know, technically true or anything. So much for not playing games… .

  Once again, he wrote back quickly.

  Chelsea seems cool & all. But I’m not sure she’s really PG like she says. I remember PG being taller, for 1 thing …

  My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. Before I knew it, I’d typed a quick response.

  So what did u tell her?

  This time the answer took a little longer to arrive.

  I told her she was cool but I wasn’t sure it was gonna work … I hate having 2 do stuff like that!!! Esp. b/c like you said, she seemed into me … Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick 2 blow her off. But I really wanna give the whole PG thing a chance before I give up on it, u know? Not 2 sound corny or whatev, but it was like a special moment, and I don’t want 2 just go out w/someone else and forget about it … Do I sound like a total dweeb???? haha, sorry 4 rambling on you …

  I felt relief wash over me as I read what he’d written. So flirty floozy Chelsea was out of the picture already. Good.

  Still, I couldn’t help feeling kind of annoyed, too. If there really had been all those sparks between us that day at the planetarium, why couldn’t Riley now see that I was the one he was searching for? I felt those same sparks every time I saw him. Why didn’t he?

  But I did my best to swallow back those feelings as I typed another response.

  Ur not a dweeb. I think it’s sweet. Why settle for less than what u want?

  He wrote back again within seconds.

  Thx, I needed 2 hear that. Marcus thinks I’m nutz to pass up a girl like that just b/c she’s not “The 1,” lol.

  Yeah. I bet he did. Marcus seemed like the type not to miss any opportunity for a little romance … or whatever. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said he reminded me of Britt.

  Just then the doorbell rang. Stepping over to glance out my window, I saw Britt on the front step. I paused on my way out of the room just long enough to send one last message:

  Gtg, my bff is here. TTYL.

  Then I ran downstairs to let Britt in. Meow Tse Tung was marching back and forth in front of the door, meowing insistently. Even though he lives the life of a pampered prince in our house, he’s always up for adventure and is constantly doing his best to make a break for it. It’s become pretty much automatic for all of us to grab him before we open the front door.

  “Sorry, you’re not going exploring today, Chairman,” I sai
d, scooping him up in one arm. Ignoring his yowls of protest, I swung open the door.

  Britt knows all about Meow’s fugitive tendencies too. She darted in and slammed the door behind her.

  “Curses, your escape has been foiled again, little man,” she said, tickling Meow under the chin.

  He yowled once more, then started purring. I dumped him gently onto a chair. When I stood up, Britt was staring at me.

  “So?” she demanded. “I’m dying of suspense here. All your text said was that you hung out with Riley for a while after I left. I want details, girl. Details!”

  I sighed. “Oh, I have some details for you, all right.”

  She blinked, leaning closer to scrutinize my expression. “What’s that face? That doesn’t look like a happy blissed-out-in-love Lauren face. What happened? Did he turn out to have bad breath, stinky feet, an obsession with stamp collecting? What?”

  She looked so frenetic that I couldn’t help laughing a little. “Shut up already and I’ll tell you… .”

  On our way up to my room, I filled her in on everything, including the recent exchange of FB messages.

  “So basically,” I finished at last, “even though I had a great time with him last night—”

  “At least before Boobsy McSlutterson showed up,” Britt put in, nodding sympathetically from her position sprawled out on my bed.

  “Yeah, that. Anyway, it’s just totally frustrating. If he thought I was The One at the planetarium when I was tripping over my own feet and falling all over him in the dark, why can’t he see it when I’m standing there in front of him? Especially since, like he pointed out himself, there aren’t that many girls around who are so into the Beast. I mean, what the hell?”

  “I don’t know.” Britt shrugged. “Guys are a mystery.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you were the world’s leading expert on the species.”

  “Oh, I totally am! But that doesn’t mean I actually understand them. I just know how to make them behave.” She grinned. “Sort of like a lion tamer or something.” Then she went serious again. “The question is, babe, do you still feel those sparks? Because if you do, it’s worth trying to whip that lion into shape.”

  I kicked back in my desk chair, staring at my laptop and feeling kind of moody. “Yeah. That’s the crazy thing. After getting to know him better, I’m feeling more sparks than ever.” I shrugged and glanced at her. “Which brings me back to my main question. Why doesn’t he feel it too? Why can’t he see that I’m the girl from the planetarium—or at least that I’m the one who’s right for him?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Britt said. “Guys are, like, total idiots about this kind of stuff. All you have to do is prove to him that you two are meant to be, and he’ll come around. We just need a plan.”

  “A plan?” I echoed dubiously.

  “Sure.” Britt was lying on her stomach with her feet sticking up behind her, and as her face went into thoughtful mode, her feet started waggling around—sort of like how Meow’s tail twitches when he’s pondering a pounce on my dad’s toes.

  I was thinking too. Mostly about how there had been enough game playing already between me and Riley.

  “I don’t know … ,” I began.

  “I’ve got it!” Britt sat bolt upright. “How about if I call and tell him you were in a terrible accident and you’re in the hospital? That should shake him up and make him realize what you mean to him!”

  “Ew, no!” I was horrified by the very thought. “What is this, my life or some cheesy soap opera? Besides, what happens if he does show up at the hospital and I’m not there?”

  She shrugged, seemingly untroubled by my reaction. “Okay, then how about this?” she said. “We create a fake Facebook account and pretend to be one of the Planetarium Girl fakers. Then we arrange for our faker to meet him in some out of the way but totally romantic spot, like maybe the steps of the Lincoln Memorial or something. Then when she stands him up—of course, since she doesn’t exist—and you happen to walk past at just the right time—”

  “Are you kidding? This is me we’re talking about here, not Drew Barrymore starring in some madcap, zany romantic comedy movie.”

  “So what? Maybe if you lived your life like a romantic comedy, you’d get more dates.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Look, the point is, I’m disappointed, but I’m not desperate. If Riley has decided for whatever reason that he doesn’t want to be with me as more than a music buddy or whatever, I’ll just have to deal.” I sighed, my mind drifting to the way his arms had felt holding me in the planetarium, and then to our awesome conversation in the ice cream parlor. “It’s just a shame this didn’t work out… .”

  Britt looked sort of annoyed. “So you’re really just going to give up? Even after the sparks and everything?”

  “I told you I didn’t believe in love at first sight. Maybe this just proves I was right.”

  She glared at me for a second, looking sort of sullen. Then her expression cleared. “Okay, whatevs,” she said with a wave of one hand. “If that’s really the way you want to go, I’m with you. BFFs, right?”

  “Right,” I said, relieved for once that she had such a short attention span, especially when it came to guys.

  “Then the next item on the agenda is cheering you up and helping you forget all about Mr. Planetarium What’s-His-Name.” She beamed at me. “And what better way to forget one guy than with another one? Better yet, a whole bunch of other ones?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tonight’s that party over in Silver Grove, remember? The one Tommo invited us to.”

  “Invited you to,” I corrected. “I just happened to be sitting there.”

  She ignored that. “You saw for yourself that Tommo’s superhot,” she said. “I’m dying to get to know him a little better, see what he’s all about. So how about it? Want to hit the Grove scene tonight and do some dancing?”

  “Silver Grove?” I said. “That’s where Riley lives. What if he’s at the party? I don’t want him to think I’m stalking him like one of those crazy posers from Facebook.”

  “Oh, right. I almost forgot Riley goes to Grove too. Still, he and Tommo don’t exactly seem like they’d hang with the same crowd.”

  Yeah. That was the understatement of the year.

  “And anyway, if he does show, can’t you just, like, avoid him or whatever?” Britt’s voice took on a pleading tone. “See, Tommo’s totally hot, but like you said yourself, he’s maybe kind of nuts, too. If I’m going to this party, I’d rather have my wingwoman along just in case I need a handy excuse to cut out early, know what I mean?”

  I hesitated, but only for a moment. This wasn’t the first time Britt had asked me to play her sidekick at a party or other event. And normally I was happy to do it. That was what friends were for, right? So why should I let a guy—no matter how cute yet exasperating—come between BFFs?

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to let my reluctance show. “I guess I’m there.”

  Ten

  I stared at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. If I did say so myself, I was looking pretty great. My hair fell over my shoulders in glossy waves, my lips were sporting the latest hot shade of scarlet, and I’d put together a killer outfit: a sassy red-and-white print dress from my favorite vintage clothing shop on U Street, some cute ballet flats, and a few key pieces of funky jewelry.

  As I surveyed my party-ready look, I did my best to quiet my nerves. Moving on was one thing. Was it a huge mistake to try to do it at a party in Riley’s hometown? Different crowds or not, what if he did show up?

  But I knew it was too late to back out now. I couldn’t leave Britt in the lurch, especially since I was more than a little dubious about Tommo’s sanity myself.

  “Plus, it would be a waste of an awesome look,” I whispered to my reflection. I spun around to get all the angles, hoping to psych myself up. It worked—but only a little. Still, it was enough to g
et me moving out the door and down the stairs.

  As I headed for the front door to watch for Britt, I saw my parents bustling around the kitchen, unpacking weird-looking ingredients from several shopping bags. They were laughing and chatting, and my mom was holding a glass of wine. Chairman Meow was weaving in and out between their legs, clearly hoping for a treat.

  “Oh, right,” I said. “It’s date night.”

  My dad looked up from unpacking a bunch of bags of nuts and raisins and stuff. “That’s right, Lauren,” he said. “We’re kicking off Moroccan week with some ferakh maamer. Want to join us?”

  “Wouldn’t that sort of defeat the purpose?” I leaned against the doorframe. “I mean, date night should be about romance.” I shot a look at the raw chicken my mom had just taken out of its own bag. “Not that cooking up your own dinner and then hanging around the house seems all that super-romantic to me.”

  They both just chuckled and exchanged an amused look. Typical. What they called date night usually consisted of little more than staying home, cooking a meal of whatever exotic ethnic cuisine they’d chosen for the week, and then playing board games or looking through old photos or just hanging out and playing with Meow. Like I said, not exactly super-romantic in my book.

  “You look nice tonight, honey,” Mom said, taking in my outfit.

  Dad nodded. “Looks like you’re ready to go out dancing,” he added.

  “Thanks.” I twirled to give them the full effect. “So why don’t you two ever make date night a real date night? You know—get all dressed up in your best clothes, hit the town, go out dancing …”

  Again they both chuckled. “Dancing? Us?” Mom said.

  Dad did a funny little shuffle in his slippers. “Do any of the hot new dances call for two left feet?” he joked.

  “I’m being serious,” I said. “Why not give it a try?”