As usual, Charlotte grills me about my college and scholarship applications. She knows I’ve been procrastinating. Even though it’s barely October, she’s already completed her early-admission applications for three different schools, including Northwestern and Georgetown. But she’s an only child, and her family has some money. If she gets in, and I’m sure she will, she can go. I can’t say the same thing for myself.
I try to change the subject with a slow sip of my café mocha — the mocha is the only thing that makes coffee drinkable for me — and debate telling Charlotte about Zenn. I rarely talk about boys, so any mention of a male would distract her from hounding me about my applications. I wouldn’t tell her about his fractal — I don’t usually talk about those — just about his mere existence. Most girls spend most of their time talking about boys so it wouldn’t be weird for me to do it once in a while.
I don’t know. Maybe it would be weird.
Charlotte beats me to it. “I can’t believe you got to sit with him for a half hour. Alone.”
I shrug but can’t help smiling. A half hour alone with a cute boy talking about math. Doesn’t get much better than that for me.
Then she says, “I’m so crazy jealous.”
Oh, right. Of course. She means Josh, not Zenn.
I shrug again. I can almost smell his cologne just from the mention of his name.
“When’s the next time you meet?”
I swallow a bite of muffin. “Today.”
“Again? Already?”
“He’s ineligible, so I have him every day until he gets his grade up. Coach’s orders.” I say this to hint that the guy is no rocket scientist, but that doesn’t seem to deter Charlotte. When it comes to Josh, attractiveness has always outweighed intelligence. I decide to throw her a bone. “Do you want to meet him?”
Her eyes grow big.
“Come by before, like, three forty-five. I’ll introduce you guys.”
“That would be weird. Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Why? You’re just giving me a ride home.”
She thinks about this for a minute and then makes a decision. “Okay.” Her cheeks are pink with nervous excitement. I’m worried for her. She’s usually a wreck around popular boys. But we’ll see.
Josh and I are just finishing up when I hear a light tap on the door. Charlotte peeks her head into the room.
“Oh!” she says, fake surprised. “Sorry!”
Huh. Maybe she’s a better actress than I thought.
“That’s okay. Come on in.” I turn to Josh. “She’s my ride.”
Charlotte steps into the room and the first thing I notice is her mouth. It’s pale pink and shiny. Is she wearing … lip gloss?
I’m so distracted by her shiny lips that I momentarily forget my promise. She opens her eyes wide and wags her head toward Josh while he’s facing the other way. My God, she’s wearing eyeliner, too!
She clears her throat. Oh, right. Introductions.
“Josh, this is my friend Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Josh.”
Charlotte manages to make it across the room without tripping. She holds out her hand and I nearly roll my eyes. A handshake? Most kids just lift their chin and say hey. What is this, a business meeting?
But to my surprise Josh stands up and takes her hand without missing a beat. Maybe he has one of those dads who has forced him to shake hands since he was a toddler. I shudder at the thought. Thank God my parents were lax in the social-niceties department.
“Nice to meet you, Josh,” she says. I can definitely see the eyeliner. I blame Jessica, one of her fellow cello players. They probably did a makeover during orchestra.
“Yeah. You, too.”
Josh and Charlotte make a striking couple: tall, blond, all-American. If you dressed them in denim and put them on a beach with a golden retriever, they’d be a freaking Ralph Lauren ad.
Josh squints at Charlotte in a charming, almost flirty way. “You … play the cello, don’t you?”
Charlotte looks stunned. “Yes. Yes. I do.”
“My little sister plays the violin. Her name is Lilly?”
Of course Charlotte knows this. She’s only spent the first month of school plotting 1,001 ways to use Lilly Mooney to get to Josh, but she’s too nice a person to employ any of them. The fact that Josh knows something about her has caught Charlotte off guard.
Maybe boys aren’t as stupid as I think.
Josh further chips away at my stupid-boy theory by saying, “I like your earrings.”
Charlotte touches them self-consciously. “Really?”
He nods. Suddenly I feel like I’m the third wheel. I hadn’t expected Josh to do more than give Charlotte a dismissive S’up and be on his way, so I’m not sure how I feel about this development. I want Charlotte to be happy … but with Josh? Poster boy for popularity and the in crowd?
I close Josh’s math book with more force than I have to. I don’t think we’re going to make any more progress today. Not with math, anyway.
Josh glances at the clock, then almost reluctantly picks up his book and calculator. “Damn. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” This is directed at me.
Then he looks at Charlotte and says her name like it’s a secret. And a statement. And a promise.
I see her whole body soften, like her bones have liquefied.
“See you around?” he adds.
“For sure,” she says, a little too enthusiastically.
I cringe. She is such a goofball.
But Josh doesn’t seem to notice. Or he doesn’t seem to care. He touches her arm lightly as he walks past.
The door closes and Charlotte collapses into a chair. “Oh, my God! That went so much better than I thought it would.”
I want to agree with her, but it would be rude to admit I was expecting a disaster. “See?” I say. “He’s pretty nice.”
“Pretty nice? He’s, like, utter and complete perfection.” I don’t know if Charlotte’s rosy cheeks are from excitement or from Jessica’s well-stocked makeup kit. “He knows I play the cello! And he likes my earrings!”
“He’s observant,” I give her, reluctant to join the lovefest because, yes, I admit it: I feel a little jealous. Not about Josh in particular, but about feeling desired. Having someone look you in the eyes, say your name, know something about you. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to think about that possibility.
Well, it’s been about two years.