“So, what if one day I went with my mom to her book club? At his house?” Tats takes a seat. “Would that be weird?”
“Kind of,” I say, unwrapping my second granola bar of the day. “What if he’s not even there? I can’t imagine him hanging around when his mom’s book club is happening.”
Sandra plunks down beside me.
I look at Tats, wondering if she’s going to change the topic of conversation.
“No, not to see him. Just to see his house, you know?” Tats takes out a saran-wrapped tray of sushi from her backpack. It has a big LAST BATCH OF THE DAY SALE sticker on it.
“I think that’s stalkerish,” I say.
“What do you think, Sandra? Is it stalkerish to go to a guy’s house when he’s not home? A guy you like?” Tats picks a roll up with her chopsticks and looks at Sandra.
“I don’t know,” says Sandra.
“Do you like someone?” Tats asks, before opening her mouth wide to shove a piece of sushi in.
“No.”
“Come on.” Tats pauses in her chewing. “It’s normal.”
Sandra shakes her head and takes a bite of her sandwich.
“You can tell us,” Tats prods.
“Maybe some people don’t,” I say. “Maybe they haven’t discovered anybody interesting.”
“I think you should walk around expecting to meet interesting people,” Tats says, picking another roll up. “Like I don’t mind, Janna, if you tell Sandra all the guys I’ve liked before.”
“What? Why?” I scrunch the granola wrapper. I’m still hungry. “Why does that matter?”
“Because I’m not ashamed of being open to people. Who cares if it doesn’t work out?” Tats puts two rolls on the discarded wrapper off her tray and pushes it to me. “If it doesn’t happen with Matt, I know I’ll find someone else.”
“Thanks, but only one. You need lunch.” I take a roll and push the other back to her.
She gets Sandra’s eye and motions toward the sushi. Sandra shakes her head again and continues eating her sandwich. It’s always turkey and lettuce.
“Sandra, if you ever fall for someone, let me know,” Tats says, leaning over the table to whisper. “I’m helping Janna, and it’s like the best. To make it happen between two people.”
Sandra looks at me. I shrug. I don’t want to tell her about something I’m not even sure of myself.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just a crush.”
When Sandra looks back at her sandwich, I frown at Tats and shake my head.
“Anyway, I think I might grow up to become a professional matchmaker if acting doesn’t work out,” Tats says. She looks up and then smiles big, waving.
I turn around. Matt and his crew are walking by on their way out. He doesn’t even glance this way. We’re not on the same planet as him.
I look back at Tats. She’s still smiling, wrapping her chopsticks with the saran wrap.
Her tray is in front of me, a roll on it.
Tats deserves someone awesome.
But someone accessible. Or at least on earth.
? ? ?
Tats pops her head out of the locker room into the gymnasium to check if it’s true. When we entered, we heard the word “substitute” being tossed around.
“YES! A sub!” Tats confirms. “Last-day sub!”
I’m in front of the mirror winding my hijab on my head in bandanna fashion, to accommodate physical activity, when she sticks her hand out, palm up.
“Give me your hijab,” she says. “He likes your hair. The guy likes your hair, and you’re going to hide it from him?”
Obediently, I unravel the pashmina. I hold on to it for a while before giving it up. She takes it and walks over to our bags on the bench.
My hair isn’t the greatest today, so I tie it up in a high ponytail, staring at my unsure expression.
Lauren walks by, pauses, and backtracks. She stands behind me, smiling at my reflection, before leaning in and whispering, “He’s my cousin.”
“Who?” My eyebrows, good actors, do their jobs, curling up curiously.
“Jeremy. You like him, don’t you? I noticed in gym yesterday.”
I don’t turn around. I have to approach this with care if I don’t want it to splatter all over my face.
“I don’t really know him,” I say.
Tats is walking over to us, a curious expression on her face, and I cringe. She’s volatile. She loves that she thinks she’s in control of my involvement with Jeremy, and she’ll actually have it out with Lauren if she perceives interference. On the way to gym class, I told her what Thomas had said about them being cousins. Her response was a frown.
“Well, do you want to get to know him better?” Lauren asks, as her best friend Marjorie appears behind her. “I can arrange that.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” I say. “After exams maybe.”
“Last-day-of-school party,” Lauren says. “At my house, next Friday. Jeremy usually comes, if I beg him enough.”
Marjorie smiles and bumps her shoulder into Lauren’s.
“Thanks,” I say again, ignoring Tats’s mouth hanging open.
Tats crosses her arms after they leave. In the mirror, I see Marjorie whispering something, giggling. Lauren doesn’t laugh but turns around abruptly.
“You too,” she says, pointing at Tats. “You’re invited too. Add me on Facebook to get the details.”
Tats smiles and drops her crossed arms.
“That was awesome,” she says as we walk out to the gym. “How’d you do that? That’s her brother’s party too. Matt will be there; he’s best friends with her brother.”
“I don’t know why that just happened,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter! We are going.” Tats does a dance. “Hey, maybe you should do your hair. Jeremy will be there.”
“I don’t think so. I’m okay with my scarf.” I split my ponytail in half and pull to tighten it. “Anyway, why’d she invite me? Us?”
“Come on—she obviously approves of you for Jeremy,” Tats says. “Speaking of the guy, where is he?”
A tall woman with short hair and a wrinkly smile stands in the middle of the gym holding a clipboard.
“I don’t get why she’d approve of me,” I say. “She and her friends act like we don’t exist most of the time.”
Tats isn’t listening because she’s gone up to talk to the sub.
I sit on the floor with the other waiting girls and can’t help noticing how Marjorie has joined some sort of whisper fest with Lauren, across from me.
“No sign of Jeremy or evidence he’s supposed to help us with softball again, according to the sub,” Tats says, crossing her legs to sit beside me.
Then, like he’s heard, he peeks out from the weight room, and our eyes meet. He smiles and nods. I draw courage and smile back, doing a little wave before realizing Lauren has seen and is looking back at Jeremy. Marjorie is clenching her lips to stop laughing, shoulders shaking.
I drop my hand and nudge Tats with my knee. She leans back and says, “I see him.”
“No, look at them, Lauren and them,” I say. “And don’t make it obvious.”
That’s like telling a cat not to pounce on a mouse. Tats whips her head and stares at them. By then, Marjorie is openly laughing. Only Lauren stays composed, with this sly smile on.