Freshman Year
Mom pulls her car up in front of the movie theater in Murfreesboro, the next town over from Manchester.
“What time should I pick you up?”
“Ben’s parents are giving me a ride to a party at Tina Hardaway’s house,” Grace says. “Mom and Dad are okay with it.”
Max unclips his seat belt in the back seat. “Lu and I might get food afterwards, Mrs. Wells.”
Mom looks at him through her rearview mirror. “Is that code for going to the party?”
“Nah, I’m serious,” Max says. “I need some Rocky Road.”
“We’re just gonna go across the street to the mall, Mom.”
“Okay, okay,” Mom replies. “But if you want to go to a party, I don’t mind as long as we can pick you up before your curfew at eleven. Your father and I just need to know where you are and how to reach you.”
I shift in my seat. Max and I don’t get invited to parties. Especially not at the house of Tina Hardaway, a senior on Grace’s dance team.
After giving Mom a kiss goodbye, I follow Max and Grace into the theater. There are so many kids from school here, the lobby might as well be the cafeteria.
We pick up our movie tickets and head to the concession stand.
“What can I get for you?” the concession stand worker says in an overly chipper voice.
“Twizzlers, please,” I reply.
“A large popcorn and Milk Duds,” Max says.
“Water, please,” Grace replies. “Oh! There’s Ben.” In a flash, she abandons us, throwing her arms around his neck as he meets her with a kiss.
I sigh, watching them.
“What’s wrong?” Max asks.
“I’m jealous.”
“Don’t be,” Max says under his breath as he passes his dad’s credit card over to the concession worker. “She could do so much better.”
Max has his reasons for disliking Ben. He told me all about how Ben’s friends bully him in the locker room. And while Ben never joins in, sometimes he laughs.
I can’t help agreeing with Max—Ben is not good enough for my cousin. She’s kind, gets far better grades than me, and is a great dancer. Ben, on the other hand, has basically refused to acknowledge Max’s and my existence since he started dating Grace.
“Yeah, Ben’s a dick,” I say to Max as I pass a ten-dollar bill to the worker. “But I just, like, want to make out with somebody.”
“Me too,” Max says wistfully.
I give him a look. Max has at least kissed a guy—someone he met last summer in Kentucky at church camp—but my experience with boys adds up to zilch.
I take Grace’s water from the counter along with my Twizzlers, turning around. Grace is tugging Ben my way, even though it looks like he’d rather have an invasive medical procedure than be seen with me.
“Hi, Ben,” I say. He nods and scrubs a hand through his hair, focusing on a display for some upcoming Pixar movie.
“Doesn’t Lulu look great tonight?” Grace asks. “We gave each other makeovers.”
He glances at me again, but doesn’t respond. “I’m gonna talk to the guys for a minute, babe,” Ben says, kissing the top of her head and vanishing into the arcade.
Max watches Ben walk away with narrowed eyes. “What, does he think we have a disease or something?”
Grace fidgets, adjusting her purse strap. “I’m sorry, you guys,” she mutters.
I touch her elbow. “I know.”
We might not think Ben is good enough for Grace, but the feeling is mutual. He doesn’t think we’re good enough for her.
She bumps her hip against mine. “And was I right about that lip color or what? Guys are checking you out already.”
Grace had convinced me to wear some of her siren-red lipstick. Some guys from school were definitely peering our way, but they could easily be focusing on Grace. She looks glamorous as usual, wearing the new fuchsia lipstick I suggested along with her regular lush eye makeup.
Dana Jenkins and Marcie Wallace appear out of nowhere. “Grace, can we talk to you about dance camp for a sec?” Marcie asks.
“Sure,” Grace says, then turns to Max and me. “Some of the junior varsity girls are thinking of applying to this sleepaway dance camp in Florida this summer, and I might go with them.”
She walks off with Dana and Marcie, drifting even farther away from me.
Max and I sit on a bench together. I cross my legs beneath me and open my Twizzlers. Max pours Milk Duds into his large carton of popcorn. He nods at the Pixar poster of a girl fawning over a merman. “Why can’t it be about a merman who’s in love with a human boy?”
“That sounds sooo much better,” I say. “But how would that work anatomically?”
Max thinks as he chews on his popcorn. “I bet the merman’s fin disappears when he comes on dry land, and then he’s hung like any other dude.”
I burst out laughing, leaning against my friend, and he leans back into me.
The lobby door swings open and Ryan McDowell enters. With his freckles and perfectly gelled red hair, Ryan looks like a super cute Weasley brother. Lots of girls would use a love potion on him.
Alex Rouvelis follows behind Ryan, wearing a short-sleeved hooded sweatshirt over a long-sleeved black shirt, distressed jeans that fit just right, and a backwards Braves cap.
I suck in a breath and sit up straighter.
Two sophomore girls approach Alex and Ryan to say hello.
As Alex smiles and flirts with the girls, Max and I pretend not to drool.
Max nudges my side. “Looks like we’re not the only jealous ones.”
Even though Ryan has a sophomore girl hanging on his arm, he’s staring at Grace, who has resumed kissing Ben over in the arcade.
“That’s ridiculous,” I reply. Alex and Ryan are the most popular guys in our class. And I heard Ryan’s family has more money than God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit combined. “Ryan’s not jealous. He can get anybody he wants.”
“Not me,” Max says. “Ryan’s too pasty. He looks like Elmer’s Glue.”
I giggle. “That’s not nice.”
“Just telling the truth. I’m not attracted to guys who look like mashed potatoes. But Alex? Yeah, I’d hit that.”
I look over at Alex. Were those jeans made specifically for him? “You have bad taste, friend.”
Max snorts. “You know, for someone who hates him so much, you sure spend an awful lot of time looking at him.”
I tear my eyes away from Alex and rip into my Twizzler with my teeth to avoid having to respond. Of course Alex is cute, but never in a million years would I have a chance with him after everything that’s happened between us. Besides, why would I want to make out with someone like him? I’m still not over how he convinced me to collect all those signatures. I basically had people signing a petition that did nothing but prove I’m a total loser.
Three of Ben’s friends walk by on the way to the concession stand. “Hot date with Garden Girl tonight, Max?” asks Paul Clark, a boy in my homeroom.
Another boy mutters something I can’t hear, but I’m pretty sure Max can because his face blushes.
“Do you smell something?” I ask Max.
He sticks his nose in the air. “Yeah, smells like a dumpster fire.”
Ignoring us, Ben’s friends laugh as they walk away.
Max looks like he wants to cry and scream at the same time. I know it’s hard for him, being the only out gay kid in our small town.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No way in hell am I missing out on Thor and Loki.”
Right then Alex walks up to us. “Hey, Max.”
After a moment of shock, Max sets his popcorn on the bench and jumps to his feet.
“My papu—my grandfather—loved the pictures you took of our baseball team for the yearbook.”
“Oh cool, thanks,” Max says.
“I wanted to ask, do you ever take pictures on the side? Because Papu’s seventieth birthday is coming up, and I want to get him something special, so I was wondering—” He stops to take a breath, adjusting his ball cap. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to take pictures of his restaurant? Niko’s? I was thinking I could frame a couple for him.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Yeah, no problem. Let me give you my number, and we’ll work something out.”
“Thanks, man.”
“But you know what?” Max says with a sly grin, as I lift a Twizzler to my mouth. “You should ask Lulu to draw Niko’s. Her drawing would be much better than any picture I would take.”
I bite the Twizzler in two, choking a piece down. “What?”
That’s when Alex notices me sitting on the bench. His eyes linger on my face longer than usual. He glances at my red lipstick. “After she locked my batting cage, I can’t imagine what she’d draw. Niko’s completely empty with no customers? Niko’s on fire?”
My face burns. “I’d never do that. I love Niko’s.”
I glare at Alex and he glares at me. His eyes return to my lips. His expression softens for a second before his eyebrows furrow.
“Look, man, I’d be happy to take some pictures for you,” Max says, and Alex gives him a fist bump.
Max and I take our seats in the theater, which are right in the middle for “optimum Thor viewing” according to him.
During the previews, my eyes scan the theater. Grace and Ben sit a few aisles in front of us. Max shovels popcorn into his mouth while surreptitiously sneaking glances at the guys’ basketball team. Ryan makes out with the sophomore I saw him with earlier.
My eyes land on Alex, who’s laughing at a preview. His stupid grin hypnotizes me.
Alex looks my way and catches me staring. Shit. I jerk my head to face the screen.
After about twenty-five minutes of previews, I lean over to Max. “It feels like we’ve been here for hours. I’m ready to go home.”
“Shh,” he whispers.
I reach into my Twizzlers bag to get another, only to find I’m on my last one. “Do you want anything from the concession stand? I need more candy.”
Max shakes his head, stuffing more popcorn in his mouth.
I hunch over so I don’t block people’s view of the screen, edge out of my row of seats, and head to the lobby. It’s nearly empty now that the movies are starting. I decide to stop in the restroom first. On my way out, I notice my sneaker is untied.
I kneel to tie my shoe, and a pair of white sneakers appear before me. As I rise back to my full height, I discover the shoes belong to Alex.
“Please tell me the previews are over,” I say. “I’m literally about to die of old age.”
“Sorry, they’re still going strong.”
“I’ve got time to go get more Twizzlers, then.”
“That’s where I was headed. I’m craving Junior Mints.” He gestures down the hallway toward the lobby.
“Junior Mints?” I say, rolling my eyes. “That’s so cliché.”
“I wish I’d snuck in a bag of Jolly Ranchers.”
“Jolly Ranchers are my favorite.”
His eyes light up. “Mine too. Especially the lemon.”
“Ugh. You’re wrong about everything, aren’t you?”
He chuckles. “Let me guess…you like the green apple?”
“No, cherry. Anyway, you couldn’t have brought them to the movies. You’d be that guy making noise with the crinkly wrappers, and everyone would be going ‘Shhhhhh!’ at you.”
He smirks at me.
“Did you do something different with your makeup?” Alex asks.
I touch my fingers to my mouth. “I borrowed Grace’s lipstick.”
“Oh.” He stuffs his hand in his jeans pocket.
After going to the concession stand, we walk back to the theater, and on the way we pass Jonah Zotter from school and two older guys I don’t recognize.
“Hi,” one of them says, checking me out.
Jonah looks back and forth between Alex and me, raising his eyebrows. “Hi, Lulu,” he says, and I return his smile as I walk by. He’s cute.
Alex sees this happen and stops to stare over his shoulder at the guys for a long moment. When he turns back to me, his eyes travel up my body to my face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him looking at me again.
“Watch out for this one, guys,” Alex calls out to the boys, and the smile falls from Jonah’s face. “She’s a handful.”
“Ugh, you’re such a dick,” I say, and turn back toward the theater as Alex chuckles behind me.