Mr. Samson said, “Okay, one more time?”
Lizzie nodded enthusiastically. He gave her a microphone that didn’t work but that she used to pretend she was a rock star—just like she did with her hairbrush. With anyone else, she would never even think of doing that, but Mr. Samson was just so much fun.
He pressed Play on “Kill ’Em with Kindness” and began the whistling part in the song. Lizzie grinned. She loved that he had as much fun as she did with these songs. When it was her turn to come in, she put her whole heart into it.
It felt great to just forget everything for a second and concentrate on the song. She belted out the lyrics and danced around the room, getting out of breath.
When the song was over, Mr. Samson said, “Lizzie, say ‘A-E-I-O-U’ for me.”
Lizzie said the vowels.
“Now try not to close your mouth for any of them. Try again.”
Lizzie tried again, and she could tell right away that her voice was louder.
“Excellent! Just practice this at home and maybe come in with a song that you really want to sing next week. Sound good?” he asked. He turned around and began straightening things. “Great session today, Lizzie See you next week.”
But Lizzie went to get her coat slowly. She felt her feet dragging and couldn’t seem to go any faster. The week after the disaster with Gloria and Tad had sped by. And now it was the weekend and she was stuck doing yet another matchmaking try with her friends. Leaving the fun atmosphere of Mr. Samson’s music lesson seemed impossible. After a minute, Mr. Samson said, “Everything okay?”
Lizzie thought for a second and then flopped into the nearest chair. “I’m going to go hang out with my friends now,” she said. But even she could tell she sounded like she was going to hang out with a firing squad.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Samson asked quietly, sitting across from her.
Lizzie shrugged. “Sarah is convinced that we should do this matchmaking stuff. But . . .”
After a second, Mr. Samson said, “But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She nodded.
“Can you tell them how you feel?” Mr. Samson asked.
Lizzie looked at her feet. “I tried, but . . . they don’t really listen to me sometimes.”
“That sounds really frustrating.”
She nodded again. But then she suddenly felt like a really bad friend. Here she was complaining about her three best friends in the world. What kind of a friend did that?
She sat up. “Never mind, Mr. Samson. I’m just being silly. I’ll see you next week.” She stood up and went to the door.
Before she opened it, Mr. Samson said, “Your feelings are important, Lizzie. And so is your voice. Just keep that in mind.”
Lizzie smiled and walked out the door, trying to get excited about spending time with her best friends.
• • •
Operation Noa and Faiyaz was on track. Or at least as on track as it could be. Sarah went over the details one more time.
“So, we’ll go downtown and wait for Faiyaz to start delivering the mail. Then me and Olive will talk loudly about Noa. And then Lizzie and Peter, you pretend to be walking toward him to see his expressions.”
Lizzie chewed her lip and a squeak came out.
“Yes?” Sarah said. Already that was unusual—normally Sarah knew exactly what Lizzie’s squeaks were about.
For a second, Lizzie wasn’t sure how to put her thoughts into words. Then she figured it out. “How do we know for sure that either of them is looking for a boyfriend? And then how do we know that neither of them has a boyfriend already?”
Sarah rolled her eyes, which immediately hurt Lizzie’s feelings. Peter noticed and said, “Sarah . . .”
She huffed. “I don’t know why you’re being difficult, Lizzie.”
Olive said, pushing her glasses up, “At the library, Sarah’s mom heard Faiyaz talking about being lonely, remember?”
Sarah finished, “And Noa is never with anyone, so he must be single.”
Olive said, “So it’s a pretty reasonable hypothesis to think they would want to get together.”
Peter said, “They just might need a little push. Maybe they’re just too shy.”
Lizzie still felt uncomfortable. She sighed. “What if they like being by themselves?” Right now, Lizzie wouldn’t have minded being by herself.
“Then they don’t have to get together,” Sarah said patiently. Well, patiently for Sarah, anyway. Mostly she just looked annoyed.
“I guess . . . ,” Lizzie said. She didn’t want to be difficult. But she felt exactly the same way she did about Tad and Gloria—this just wasn’t a good idea.
“Let’s go. Faiyaz delivers the mail around two o’clock,” Sarah said. She seemed to be so mad at Lizzie all of a sudden. And Lizzie wasn’t sure what to do. She felt lost.
They all grabbed their bikes and started the ride downtown. Lizzie breathed in the cool air and heard the shooshing of the slush as they rode through the sloppy streets. The winter had been pretty warm, so they could still ride their bikes. This made Lizzie happy, and she was thinking about it when Sarah slowed down to ride beside her and said, “Lizzie, what’s going on with you?”
Lizzie was startled. What was going on with her? She wanted to know what was going on with Sarah! She wasn’t the one acting crazy. Before she could say anything, Sarah said, “I just wish you’d be supportive,” and then she rode ahead until they reached the hardware store right across from the post office at the beginning of the downtown. They all got off their bikes and leaned them up against the side of the store.
Lizzie felt tears in her eyes. But to her surprise, they weren’t tears of sadness—they were tears of frustration. She realized she was . . . upset. She hardly ever got upset, really. But she felt that way now.
Still, because she WAS a good friend, she would participate in the very bad idea that Sarah had. She couldn’t look Sarah in the eye, though. Not right at that moment.
They saw Faiyaz come out of the post office right on schedule. Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Okay, it’s time.”
Lizzie didn’t say anything and started walking up the street. Peter followed her. They went all the way to Noa’s grocery store and watched as Faiyaz started down the street, followed by Sarah and Olive.
Peter whispered to Lizzie as they walked. “Are you okay?”
Lizzie shook her head. “Not really,” she whispered back.
“I know this is weird . . . ,” Peter said.
Lizzie huffed. “It’s not weird. It’s just . . . we shouldn’t be doing this! And I don’t really get why you and Olive want to.” She almost stopped walking. This was the most adamant she’d ever been. When she looked at Peter, his eyebrows were up in surprise.
“Don’t you think this is a little fun? We could get Noa and Faiyaz together! What if we make them really happy?” Peter said, gesturing.
They were coming up on Faiyaz, and Lizzie realized they should be looking at his expression. But she whispered back, “What if we hurt someone?” Of all the people in her friend group, Peter was the one to understand that.
But instead, he frowned. “I think that’s really negative. And my dad says that the way you think can influence things.” Then he went silent.
Lizzie felt tears again. She clearly wasn’t getting anywhere. So she changed the subject. “What are they going to say to him again?” she asked.
Peter’s frown went away and he smiled. “Not to him. Behind him. Sarah is going to talk about how Noa mentioned he had a crush on someone with blue shorts who carried a lot of mail.”
The tension Lizzie felt eased a little and she laughed just a bit. That was so obvious, there was no way Faiyaz wouldn’t know this was a setup. But as they got closer to Faiyaz, both Peter and Lizzie saw Faiyaz’s face change. He started walking more slowly, and then his face went from puzzled to surprised to incredibly happy. Lizzie’s palms got sweaty. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe this could actually work! For the first time, she felt a ping of excitement.
She and Peter passed Faiyaz and joined Sarah and Olive, and all four of them stopped walking.
“Well?” Sarah asked, excited.
Peter and Lizzie exchanged looks. “He really does look happy about that,” said Lizzie. Sarah’s face changed and she smiled at Lizzie, like she was finally happy with her again. “That’s fantastic!”
Olive asked, “How do we find out if this worked?”
Peter pointed down the road to the entrance of Noa’s grocery store, where Lizzie and he had just been. Faiyaz stood outside the door, taking big breaths and looking like he was planning on doing something hard.
All four of them exchanged looks. Then they walked-ran to the grocery store just as Faiyaz walked in.
They watched as he went up to the customer service desk, where Noa stood doing paperwork. The store was fairly empty, so Lizzie and her friends walked to the nearest aisle that was close to the desk but where they wouldn’t be seen. They pretended to look at stuff while they listened in. Lizzie got another ping of excitement—she had to admit that if this worked, it would feel pretty good. Maybe she should just ignore the little voice that told her it was a bad idea.
Faiyaz said, “Hel-I.”
Lizzie felt her face scrunch up in confusion. Then Faiyaz said, “I mean hello. I tried to say ‘hi’ and ‘hello’ at the same time.” Then he laughed too loudly, and next to her Peter cringed. A feeling of dread crept through Lizzie.
Noa said in a big, booming voice, “Hey there, Faiyaz. You have some mail for me, do you?”
The four of them peeked around the corner.
Faiyaz shifted on his feet and put his hand in his mailbag. Lizzie saw his hand shaking as he brought a bundle of mail out. He said, “Yeah, just here to deliver stuff to you. Sometimes you don’t really know what you have until it’s standing right in front of you.”
Noa looked up from what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowed. “True, I guess.” His voice was much lower.
Faiyaz looked at the floor and then cleared his throat. “Uh . . . so. Well,” he said. Noa continued to stare, his face a mask of confusion.
“Do you . . . I think . . . Should we . . . go get dinner sometime, maybe?” Faiyaz said, his voice squeaking.
Noa swallowed and his face changed from confused to embarrassed to uncomfortable in the space of three seconds. “Oh, Faiyaz,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry, but I have a boyfriend in New York.”
Lizzie saw Faiyaz close his eyes and let out a breath. “Oh, man. I’m the one who’s sorry. I thought . . . I heard someone . . . Never mind. Here’s your mail!” Then he put the bundle of mail on the counter and practically ran out of the store.
Lizzie, Peter, Olive, and Sarah snapped back around the corner into the aisle. Olive’s eyes were squeezed tight, Peter had his hand on his forehead, and Sarah stood with her hands on her hips, looking frustrated. Lizzie realized she was clutching her heart.
Without a word, she turned and walked out the door.