“Haaaaaydeeeeen!” moaned Josh and his peeps from the nearest booth. Double drat! Just what I needed when I was trying to get the upper hand in this ongoing argument with Nick: the undying friendship of four fourteen-year-old boys.
On hearing my name, Nick looked up at me, then nodded toward the posse with a smirk. “Your boyfriends are calling you.” He glanced toward Fiona.
“You act like that’s not possible,” I heard myself say coyly, even though my brain was waving frantically at me, screaming, Stop, Hayden, don’t go there!
Nick turned back to me, and his eyes flew wide in surprise. “I act like what’s not possible?”
“You act like I would never go out with any of them.” Which I wouldn’t. They were like brothers to me. Especially my brother. And they still watched cartoons. It was just that Nick acted so disdainful, as if I could never have anyone if it weren’t for him or Everett Walsh throwing me a bone.
“Nick, quick, help, I’m about to die!” Fiona squealed.
Ah, triple drat. A real live ex-girlfriend and damsel in space-distress totally trumped fourteen-year-old boys, no matter how many of them there were. Nick dashed over to her and took over mission command. I hung my own coat on the rack and dragged myself to the boys’ booth.
But you know what? They all grinned at me in welcome, and Josh even scooted over to make room for me on the bench. At least I knew who my true friends were. Feeling grateful and loved, I sat down.
THPPPPTHPPPPTHPPPPT! I farted. Or so it seemed.
The boys died laughing. I pulled the whoopee cushion out from under me and flung it on the table, which only sent them into another paroxysm.
“Nick—–Krieger—is—behind—you,” Josh gasped between giggles. “He totally heard it over Galaga. Do you still want us to look without looking like we’re looking?” This sent them into yet another laughing fit.
“But don’t worry,” one of his friends said. “We’ll act like we think you’re hot.” They all snorted and dabbed at their eyes faux-girlishly with paper napkins from the holder. Then, as if on cue, they started their rhythmic heavy breathing, and I knew one of Josh’s raps was coming. The people in the booths around us turned to look, if they weren’t already staring at us outright because of the whoopee cushion.
Hayden C. O’Malley was your
Average girl
Thought she’d give the boarding, jibbing,
Riding a whirl
Thought she’d have some trouble kicking
Nick Krieger’s ass
But her secret weapon is she’s
Cooking with gas …
Not every one of Josh’s raps was a success, and this one trailed off to dissolve in a morass of laughter and fart noises. I laughed along with them, because it was funny, and because I was that much of a Loser.
But of course the whole time I was preoccupied, wondering whether Nick had gone home with Fiona yet. On the one hand, I hoped that the two of them got extra points and extra lives in the bonus round, and that they were sticking around for another hundred thousand points. On the other hand, Nick overhearing Josh’s rap would not be my shining moment.
“Do you think y’all could hold it down?” I finally asked the boys. “I appreciate your art, but there’s a difference between rapping about me on the slopes, and rapping about me in a restaurant where other people are trying to eat. The latter is very prepubescent.”
“Prepubescent!” Josh gasped. “Prepubescent!”
“I am totally pubescent,” one of his friends said.
Another said haughtily, “I will have you know that my mom and I are going to Aspen to shop for training bras this weekend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Later.” I slid off the bench and stood.
“Hey, we’re helping you go off the jump again tomorrow, right?” Josh asked, using the word helping very loosely.
“Yeah,” another boy said, “eleventh time’s the charm.”
I looked toward the Galaga machine. Fiona was still there, yet Nick was gone. Probably just to order her a drink. Ordinarily, I would have bounced all over the restaurant looking for him so I could flirt him out of Fiona’s pink-nailed grasp. But the whoopee cushion had taken the wind out of my sails.
As I walked through an open doorway decorated with broken skis and snowboards,
here he was again, sitting in another booth, handsome face lit softly by the dim overhead lamps and the Christmas lights outlining the ceiling. Colors danced in his dark hair as he laughed with Gavin and Davis and … Chloe and Liz.
Sure enough, Chloe and Liz had invited me here, Gavin and Davis had invited Nick, and they were all playing Cupid again. Even after the fiasco last night! But I knew for sure that either way, the couples were together, at least for tonight. Chloe and Gavin sat on one side of the booth, and I saw the backs of Liz and Davis on the other side. Nick had squeezed onto the end of the bench next to Gavin, which left only one place for me.
My feet felt like they had boots and bindings and two separate snowboards attached to them as I dragged myself closer and closer to the table of doom. Nick looked up at me. He didn’t sneer at me and turn away to make a joke about me to the table at large. He watched me coming, dragging my phantom snowboards across the room. I held his gaze. I knew he was about to humiliate me (again), but I would hold my head high while he did it. I slid onto the bench next to Davis, across the table from him.
“Hayden!” Chloe said. “Where’ve you been?”
I jerked my head in the direction of my brother. “Josh.”
Here it came. Nick offered another explanation with a smug grin. “Hayden’s having gastrointestinal issues.”
“You are?” Liz asked with real concern.
“Must be the tofu,” I muttered. When Liz continued to stare at me with wide eyes, I reached around Davis and patted her hand. “No, I’m not. Nick is kidding. Isn’t he hilarious?” I gave him a sickly smile.
He pointed at himself like, Who, me?
Conversation at the table went on without us. Gavin related the details of the trip to Japan his family was planning for next summer to visit relatives they hadn’t seen in years. Even if Liz and Chloe hadn’t completely made up with Davis and Gavin, it was so obvious they were couples, because they sat next to each other in the booth. I felt a flash of jealousy. Maybe it was just that the bet for Poseur tickets loomed over me, but I couldn’t shake the idea of all six of us triple-dating.
What if Nick and I were a real couple for once, out in the open? Nick and I would slide together onto the bench on one side of the booth, and all our friends would take it for granted. He’d been cruel to hint around at asking me out when he didn’t mean it, because now I couldn’t get it off my mind.