Later, zooming through my neighborhood on the Silver Flash, I ponder about Mrs. Weston telling our principal, and how Nikki’s mom will act if she gets a phone call. Probably whack the heads off some broccoli. I’m on my way to fill in Amanda to see what she thinks, and I want to tell her about going into Nikki’s house. She is going to be so impressed!
I zip past the other houses, past the orange trees, which are done blooming. They’re done with oranges and done with flowers. Time to concentrate on growing. I smile when I hear the hummingbird notes of Emily’s flute as I pass her house.
When I get to Amanda’s, I bang on the door. My knock is as distinctive as a ringtone. As I wait, I check out the unfamiliar skateboard resting nearby. My pulse quickens. Maybe Matthew bought a new board. I study it so I can make a casual comment about it, like, Cool board. What kind of wheels are those? Or—and this is even better—Can you ollie? I heard that word on a stunt show and filed it in my mental notes under M, for Matthew.
I’m daydreaming about how impressed Matthew will be with me knowing the word “ollie” that I startle when Amanda opens the door.
“Hey, Amanda,” I say and barrel in, almost bumping straight into Tanner Law. “Oh!”
“Hi, Hailee.” Tanner Law has shot up a foot since I last saw him. Blond hair glints off his arms, and his eyes, which I’ve never noticed before, are gray.
Amanda looks bashful. “We were just hanging out.”
Then I go all the way into the kitchen and see Matthew and Shana sitting, their fingers entwined on top of the table.
Awkward moments are so awkward.
“Hailee! We haven’t seen you in a while.” Mrs. Burns ducks from the fridge with a bottled water.
I rush to her side. “Well, you know, I’ve been busy at school and with homework and the Library Club”—I sneak a peek at Amanda and Tanner—Amanda and Tanner!—“and have you been looking at any decorating magazines lately, because I’ve been thinking about redoing my room”—that’s true; I said it before, remember?—“and maybe you have some good ideas. My favorite color is green.” I can’t seem to remember why I rode my bike over here.
“Your favorite colors are pink and purple,” Amanda says.
“I just changed it.” I cross my arms, drop them, and recross them. “People do change, you know.”
Amanda gives me a quizzical look.
“Actually, I might have a couple of new magazines.” Mrs. Burns starts toward the hallway.
“Oh,” Shana says, “would you please finish your story about Matthew first?” Her face and Matthew’s face blush in unison.
Remember that game “Which one of these things doesn’t belong?” I am living it right now.
As we take seats around the table, Mrs. Burns says, “Hailee didn’t hear the first part, so I’ll catch her up.” I shrink at my name. I don’t want anyone singling me out—get it?—because I am already singled out. Anyway, Mrs. Burns picks up the story. “When Matthew was in about third grade or so, he’d come home and cry about this bully who wouldn’t leave him alone at recess.”
Shana murmurs a soft “Aww,” and she and Matthew exchange a glance.
“I tried talking to the teacher, but this kid just wouldn’t stop. Finally, one night, Matthew was not himself at the supper table, so Mr. Burns laid down his fork and knife, wiped his mouth, and said, ‘Matthew, the next time he bothers you, kick him in the shin.’”
All around the table, we burst into laughter.
“I didn’t like the idea,” Mrs. Burns said, “but after supper, Mr. Burns showed Matthew where the shin was and told him the only way to do it was to kick hard, then run!” She starts cracking up. “So the next day, Matthew comes home happy, saying he did just what his dad told him to do, and we were glad because we thought that was the end of it.
“But it wasn’t. Matthew liked the idea so much that he started looking for that kid just so he could kick him in the shins.” Now we’re all laughing. Matthew looks embarrassed, but pleased, too. “We had to order him to stop. But that boy never did bother Matthew after that!”
“I shut him down,” Matthew says, a sheepish grin lighting up his face.
“Well,” Mrs. Burns says to me. “Let me go get those magazines.”
Shana says she has to go and Matthew walks her out. I’m alone with Amanda and Tanner. Little hearts float up from their side of the table. Girlfriend and boyfriend vibes soak the air like humidity. When Mrs. Burns comes back, I can barely focus on her talk of color palettes and themed bedding. Matthew slips in and up the stairs.
I don’t hear Tanner’s joke, but I laugh when Amanda starts laughing.
She looks at me appreciatively. “It’s so true, right?”
“I know,” I say, letting my laughter die down in a way that sounds natural.
Tanner’s chair is about three inches from Amanda’s. They don’t seem shy except for when they look at me.
“So how’s Magnolia?” he asks.
“Oh, it’s great!” Amanda answers for me. “Hailee’s getting all As and everyone there likes her.”
I shrug. “Well, I don’t know if everyone likes me….”
“Of course they do, silly!” Amanda says.
“Yeah, you have lots of friends on Facebook,” Tanner adds.
Mrs. Burns puts down her magazine. “Your mom lets you on Facebook?”
Amanda pokes her mom with a glance. “I told you, Mom! Tanner and Hailee are friends on Facebook.”
Mrs. Burns tilts her head. “But they already are friends—in real life.”
“Mo-om.” Amanda uses a singsong voice. “You’re so last century.”
Mrs. Burns stands and bops Amanda’s head with her rolled-up magazine. The table feels unbalanced after she leaves. I can hear the electronic hum of the refrigerator, the air-conditioning, and the love connection between Amanda and Tanner. I clear my throat. Tanner chuckles at nothing, and Amanda smiles. Her gaze ping-pongs from me to Tanner and back again, and I realize how odd three is as a number.
“Um—” Wet concrete pours into my veins and stiffens my joints. “I have to go home,” I say.
Amanda makes sure the door shuts behind her when she walks me out. “What do you think of him? You can be honest.”
She wants me to say something nice about Tanner.
I tilt my head like Nikki does. “I can see how you like him.”
“I know! Isn’t he cute? He’s going to help me with my last project for the Compass Club—cleaning cages and giving baths to the animals at the shelter. He’s so awesome!” She bangs her hands together as if the Tanner Law awesomeness is too much to behold. Lowering her voice, she says, “If he tries to kiss me, I’m going to let him!” Her eyes widen with the shock of what she’s just said.
So do mine.
I leave Amanda’s house without getting to use “ollie” in a sentence with Matthew.
My tires spin off sand on her driveway. Amanda and Tanner or maybe even Matthew could be watching me from a window, so I put a half smile on my face as if I’m thinking about something pleasant, such as lemon meringue pie. (If you aren’t a lemon meringue person, think of a pie you do like, such as blueberry or pumpkin.) I sit up straight on my bike and, as I pedal, I point my toes because models always do that.
It’s not a natural way to ride, so I’m glad when I’m out of eyeshot and they can’t stare at me anymore. I slump over my handlebars and heave the bike side to side while pumping.
Ever since I left Palm Middle, Amanda’s been keeping two lives: her regular life (her family and me), and her Palm Middle life (Tanner). I decide I am insulted—insulted!—by Tanner replacing me on Amanda’s Compass Club project. Out of the generosity of my heart, I offered to help Amanda even though I was really busy, what with winning the lottery and all. I click up to a higher speed. Yes, that’s what I’m feeling—insulted.
Furthermore, this whole thing with Tanner. Was she going to tell me? I mean, I only found out through Facebook, and even my stopping over today was unplanned. The thought of her keeping secrets grates against our friendship same as my bike chain grates against its axle. Big deal, I tell myself—I keep secrets from her. Things she has no idea of, like how dingy some of her shirts look and how dumb she sounds when she asks things like What’s CSS? when everyone at Magnolia knows it stands for cascading style sheets. Emily and Marna were polite enough to not point out anything, but at the sleepover, Amanda acted like Little Orphan Annie seeing Daddy Warbucks’s mansion for the first time.
I’m plodding by Emily’s house when I spy her sitting on her porch steps.
“Coming home from somewhere.” She states the obvious as I roll up her sidewalk, careful not to crush even one blade of their perfect grass. Today must be Annoy Hailee Day.
“Yep.” I set up my bike, then drop beside her. “I heard you playing your flute before. I felt like sitting on your porch and listening to it.”
Her surprised little smile makes an appearance. “Do it.”
“What?”
“Sit on the porch. My mom won’t care.”
“That would really be okay?”
“Yeah, and then leave me a signal that you were here, like …” She glances around. She snaps off a twig from the bushes, breaks it in half, and lays the halves as an X behind the banister. “This will be our code.”
I love this idea. It makes up for all the weirdness at Amanda’s house and I almost feel normal as I fly home.
Almost normal, but for that nagging no-see-um feeling.