*
I didn’t get 100 percent, though probably if I were a boy-free nun on a witch-free island with three days to take the test, I could have. There was one problem where I suddenly forgot how to add exponents, and another where I added six and seven and got eleven. As you do. Long and short of it, I got a 91 percent. I was bummed when Rourke said he was going to average it with my 61 percent, but then he didn’t completely. He gave me an 81 percent and said next time to ask for the tutor before I got behind. Then he offered me a celebratory root beer in a paper cup.
When I went out into the hallway, swigging my root beer, Kelvin was standing stiffly across the hall, watching Rourke’s door. He was in his trench coat and it made him look like a poker-faced giant.
“Kelvin!” I said. “You’re seriously the best. I got an A.”
“I was only the catalyst to remind you that you could do it,” Kelvin said. “The Post-it note on the refrigerator of your brain.”
“Step. By. Step,” I said. I slugged his arm. “You should totally become a math teacher. You got the chops and you’ll have all the root beer you can drink.”
“Mmm, root beer and chops,” said Kelvin.
“Okay, look,” I said. “I have one more favor to ask you. I’ll pay you the usual and I don’t need it till tomorrow, but it absolutely truly has to be goat’s and not cow’s blood. Can I get one ounce from you?”
Kelvin swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing into his trench collar. He closed his eyes and he said, “Will you go to the dance with me?”
My heart sunk into my belly.
Looking back, I guess I should’ve known.
I should’ve known, right? You probably saw it coming a mile off. But I had no idea. When you’re focused on another boy, this kind of thing happens.
And then you feel awful.
“Kelvin…” I said. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
His eyes were still closed. “Then no goat’s blood.”
I touched his arm and he flinched. “You don’t really want to trade a dance for goat’s blood, do you?”
Kelvin opened his eyes and deadpan he said, “It’s fitting for a Halloween dance.”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “I’m kinda going with someone else,” I said.
“Who?”
“Devon.”
“The one who’s been kissing all those girls?” he said.
“Well. Yes. It’s not entirely his fault.”
Lines furrowed Kelvin’s brow. “Love is not logical,” he said in his robot voice.
“I think you’re nice,” I said, which I know is a totally unhelpful thing to say. “Maybe we could, um, eat lunch together some time. Please, can you get me the goat’s blood, though? I really am desperate for it.”
“Not desperate enough to break your date with Romeo Lothario Especialo.” Kelvin shoved his hands in his trench pockets. “I’m tired of being the helpful guy.”
“Now wait, I always pay you,” I said. “That’s not a favor, that’s a business transaction. And how did I know you were Rourke’s algebra tutor? That’s something you must have volunteered for a whole month ago.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just looked at the tiled ceiling, lips set in a thin stubborn line. Fleetingly, I wondered if I’d let slip earlier in the school year that I was having algebra problems.
“Gah!” I said. “You want me to break my date? Fine, I’ll break it. If that’s the only way to get the supplies I need. But I think it’s a lousy way to get a girl to go out with you.”
His wide face kind of trembled and he looked too embarrassed to speak. He grabbed his backpack and lurched away from me. “You never know when I’m joking,” he said in his robot voice. “World never knows. World not understand robot Kelvin.”
“You were joking?” I said. I wasn’t sure if it was really true, but I wanted to believe it. “Thank goodness. So we’re cool and you’ll bring the goat’s blood?”
He backed down the hall. “No more goats. Goats die of pig flu. This transaction is finished.”
“Kelvin!” I said.
But he turned and ran.
13
Kiss Me
This is what I did Thursday evening while all the other kids in my school did homework and watched TV and texted each other and practiced violin and wrote poems and goofed off and painted self-portraits and leveled up and played basketball and practiced their stand-up and stared cross-eyed at their ceiling saying, “He kissed me.”
I combed the garden for one earwig and four dandelion roots.