Maybe it was the utter fear of what was awaiting her in Biology, but Scarlett once again found herself being more smart than normal in her other classes the next day. She was amazed to find that her interpretation of “Ode on a Grecian Urn” was not only in line with reality but actually insightful, especially considering that she had read it while walking to school. But eighth period loomed — the great end of the long day. Once again, there would be Max to face, and a test to get. The test came first. From the look on Ms. Fitzweld’s face, Scarlett knew things were not good.
“This isn’t really you,” she said. “If you improve on the next one, I’ll look into weighting it a little more heavily. I don’t know what’s been going on here with you and Biggs, but if you feel it’s affecting your work … ”
“It’s okay,” Scarlett said.
She opened her exam automatically. Seventy-eight percent. She’d never gotten a grade like that in her life. It was like free fall, a terrifying liberation. She shut the exam and the grade went away for a while. Max hadn’t gotten to class yet, but his exam was sitting there. Scarlett pulled it closer with her pen and just lifted back the corner. He had a 94 percent. She flicked it away as he came in.
Once again, Max gave her the silent treatment. He picked up his exam as he sat down and shoved it in his bag without looking at the grade. For forty-five minutes, they sat beside each other, Max still for once, not rocking on his seat or playing with the electrical outlet. And when the bell rang, he slipped off again. This time, Scarlett took off after him. He headed for the practice room. She let herself in after him. It only occurred to her once she was in there that she had no idea what she was going to say to him, but he spoke first, eliminating the problem.
“I figured you wouldn’t want your evil friend to see you with me,” he said, putting down his things and settling himself at the piano. “I’m kind of an embarrassment.”
“Could you maybe not call her my evil friend?” Scarlett asked. “Her name is Dakota.”
“Whatever. Want to know something?”
“I … ” Did she? Did she really? What if that something was a very awkward something? She should never have followed him.
“I have perfect pitch,” he said.
That wasn’t what she had been expecting.
“What?”
“Perfect pitch,” he repeated. “Chelsea doesn’t. Drives her nuts. My music teacher at school figured this out when I was little. She told my mom. My mom was thrilled that she had a prodigy on her hands, so she stuck me in music school. By the time I was eight, I took ten extra hours of music class a week, plus practice, on top of school. And then it just got worse. I used to like playing music before that … I used to love it. That school made me hate it. I had to go there every single day. People were always watching me play and telling me what to do and making me practice. I don’t like people teaching me how to play. I know how to play.”
“So did you tell her you didn’t want to go anymore?” she asked.
“You’ve met my mom,” he said. “You think that would matter? She knew I hated it, but she told everyone it was what I wanted. She told people I begged to go. She did to me what she did to Chelsea. It just didn’t work with me. I didn’t want to go to class anymore, so when my mom dropped me off at the school, I never went to my lesson. I sat in the bathroom and played video games. So then she took away my handheld. Then I just went and sat in the bathroom and did nothing. Then she started walking me to the class door and sitting outside. So then I’d go to the lesson and just sit there and refuse to play. This went on for maybe two or three weeks, and they said I had to stop coming. I won. But I don’t play in front of her anymore, ever. That’s my big secret. Now you know everything.”
“I’m sorry,” Scarlett said.
“Whatever. I don’t care.”
And he truly didn’t appear to care. He knocked his hair out of his eyes and played a few lightning-quick scales.
“What about Chelsea?” Scarlett asked. “How did she get into this if you were the one who was good at music?”
“My mom must have figured that if she had one prodigy in the family, she might have another. She didn’t. She stuck her in every single class she could think of to see what worked — singing, dancing, acting. You can learn to do anything if someone rides your ass enough.”
“That actually makes me feel kind of bad,” Scarlett said.
“Don’t. I got out of it. Chelsea could have, too. But that would require a spine, and she doesn’t have one.”
“What about your dad?”
Max shrugged and tapped the keys noiselessly.
“He’s kind of oblivious. My mom pushed her along, dragged her to the city all the time to go to auditions, and then she got her first commercial. After that, my mom quit her job and started running Chelsea’s career full-time. It took her a few years, but she finally got her on Broadway. And that’s … ” He played a quick little trill. “ … how we got here.”
“But now that Chelsea doesn’t have a show, are you going back?”
Max smirked at this.
“My mom’s not going to give up,” he said. “She’ll ride that pony until it dies. She’s going to make your boss nuts and demand that Chelsea go on auditions every fifteen minutes. You aren’t getting rid of me.”
This was the first hint Scarlett got that they might actually be talking about what happened the other night … with the kissing. She wasn’t going to ask about it first. But Max just started to play, and she let herself out quietly.
When Scarlett got home, she remembered that she’d never rescued her phone from the basement. She hadn’t missed it. Still, since she was passing the basement, it seemed wise to go and see if it was in one piece. What she found instead was Spencer at the foot of the steps, sprawled out in a way that suggested a broken neck. Many people would have screamed or fainted or called 911, but Scarlett merely steadied herself against the door.
“Please tell me you’re faking,” she said.
Spencer got to his feet and dusted himself off. He sat glumly on the washing machine and beat his heels lightly into the metal door.
“Just trying to work out a fall I used to do down here,” he said. “Remember the summer, I think it was the year before Marlene got sick? And I had that old mattress down here? And I would just throw myself at it all day long. That’s when I figured out how to fall down a whole flight of steps.”
Scarlett remembered it well. That was the last time there were no problems, at least not that she knew about. She and Spencer spent hours down here. He had just gotten into Performing Arts and wanted to have a bag of tricks to show when he started, and she was ten and had nothing on her agenda except reading Harry Potter and eating Popsicles. She liked helping him out and suggesting things. It was fun telling someone to run into the wall a certain way and have them do it for you.
“Is that what you just did?” Scarlett asked, wincing. “With no mattress?”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing strangely. “It was. I was an idiot to try it. I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself.”
“Are you okay?” Scarlett asked. “You know you’ll get another job.”
“I’m waiting for your boss to ‘investigate the situation.’ I’m not having my panic attack until she tells me I’m definitely fired.”
Scarlett went over to the laundry bin. It was there, under the chute. She had to dig around for a moment to find her phone, but it was there, under a small pile of sheets. It had run out of charge, but it was intact.
“There’s something going on upstairs,” he said. “Everyone seems really excited about something.”
He stared up at the ceiling, as if it could tell him what madness was going on in the floor above.
“Excited about what?”
“Something about Marlene. I got the idea they were waiting for you to get home.”
“Oh good,” Scarlett said. “That sounds promising.”
“We might as well find out what it was.”
There was indeed some kind of commotion. Scarlett’s mom was on her phone in the bedroom. Her dad and Marlene were sealed away in the Jazz Suite. Lola was buzzing around the Orchard Suite.
“What’s going on?” Scarlett asked.
“We have to wait,” Lola said, but her voice crackled with excitement.
“Do not do this to us,” Spencer said, leaning in the doorway. “We hate surprises now.”
Lola gestured to him to come inside, then made sure the door was shut solidly.
“Marlene has been made Powerkid of the Year!” she said.
“The what?” Spencer asked.
“It means that she’s going to be the official spokes … kid all next year, starting in January! She’ll be in all the ads, she’ll be meeting donors … ”
“You mean like the poster child?” Spencer asked.
“Exactly! That’s exactly what it is!”
Spencer looked over at Scarlett warily. Scarlett closed her eyes.
“You two don’t look excited,” Lola said disapprovingly. “She had to do a lot to earn this. Hundreds of kids applied for this.”
“I knew it,” Scarlett said. “Marlene’s been doing something. The politeness. The Princess Di books. She’s been practicing being nice. For this.”
“Wait a minute,” Spencer said. “This big contest … Marlene just happens to win it a few days after your wedding? Are we really just that lucky? Pinch me!”
Lola started playing with the few remaining items on her dresser.
“The people at the party,” Scarlett said. “A lot of them are big into charities. They run stuff. Did you do this?”
“I didn’t do it,” Lola said, her voice just a whisper. “It just happened. Do not say anything, okay?”
“How did it just happen?” Spencer asked.
“Chip’s parents know the Powerkid people. It doesn’t really matter. It’s pretty much random anyway.”
“That’s not what you just said,” Scarlett pointed out.
“This is a huge deal for Marlene! Do you want to spoil it for her?”
“Are you asking me that seriously?” Scarlett replied.
But Spencer was sighing and rubbing his forehead.
“Fine,” he said. “We don’t tell her that you got Chip to magically make her queen of the Powerkids.”
Marlene herself came in a few minutes later. She wasn’t precisely gloating … but the calm smile on her face didn’t make Scarlett feel any more reassured about this news.
“I told them,” Lola said guiltily. “I couldn’t help it.”
“It’s okay,” Marlene replied, her voice unnaturally formal and precise. “I don’t start for a while. But I really want to get involved with reading programs. You know, encourage people to read. There’s a lot I’ll be doing … ”
She went on for a few minutes about her new post and duties. Sure enough, it all had the stamp of Lady Di on it. Visiting hospitals. Having her face on the Powerkids holiday sticker and collection jars. Meeting celebrities. Being the adorable face of cancer.
“I have to go call all my friends,” Marlene said, holding up her phone and parading out of the room.
“Remember,” Spencer said to Lola, “a few months from now, remember that you did this, okay?”
“Oh, Spencer … ”
“You won’t have to live here,” Scarlett said. She hadn’t meant it to come out that coldly, but it was a fact. As usual, Lola tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t come out quite right.