school show, not a community thing, but still.”
I’d lost out on a part in a show? Oh. I’d conveniently blocked that little failure. I decided not to pursue it, for now. “How’s school?”
“I never sleep! You need to come visit me; I’m in student housing—the Meredith Willson res uptown.” Lissa was squeezing my fingertips. “Did you get my email? I know, I know, I should have written way more; I’m the queen of procrastinating. And this year, holy cow. It’s nothing but rehearsals. Did I tell you Lafayette almost didn’t let me graduate because I flunked math? Can you imagine anything more wrong than doing another year at Laf? I was in such a pickle—I had to take summer school—and then I ran away to Russia! For all the rest of the summer!” Her laugh was more bark, as if she were still shocked by her nerve.
“Russia? That’s awesome! What’d you do there?” I was shouting over the music; I could feel my lungs working for the extra pumps of air.
“I studied with the Bolshoi, as part of their ballet exchange program. It was incredible. Anyway. Jeepers,
Ember.
I missed you.” Her eyes bored deep into mine.
“I missed you, too.” And it was true. I hadn’t felt the tug of not seeing her till this minute, all these months later. And here she was, long-leggity Lissa with those same black eyes glittering like mica, her cheeks blotted tea-rose pink in her vanilla skin, her inky threads of hair wisping from her braids. No Lissa, no dancing, no Areacode—none of these prized, wild moments had been in my life since February, and I hadn’t even remembered to yearn for them.
“And the mad scientists made you perfect again!” Now Lissa grabbed both of my hands and swung them out. “Jeez Louise, but I totally hate how your bangs hide your face!”
“Yeah, yeah.” I had to smile. Lissa’s bluntness could be as surprising as those quirky grandma expressions like “in a pickle” that she sometimes used. “I give up. What are you dressed as? Coppélia?”
“I’m dressed as myself—a crazy ballerina.” Now Lissa dropped my hands to hold my shoulders. “This place is almost as packed as New Year’s Eve! Remember last New Year’s Eve?”
I smiled so I didn’t have to lie.
“Hey, and I’d
still
buy that jacket off you, whenever you’re selling.”
What jacket? She couldn’t mean the pink-bubble-gum coat—a boho girl like Lissa wouldn’t be caught dead in that mess. But now something else was happening. Little bits of New Year’s Eve were beginning to flutter down on me like pieces of ticker tape. Sweet, tangled memory. Blowers and streamers. Gold, glittery top hats and oversized Happy New Year sunglasses. A crush of bodies—I’d been so warm that night. Claustrophobic—I could feel it again, the need for fresh air.
“Come dance.” She tugged my arm. “It’ll be like old times.”
“I can’t.” I could feel myself ready to bolt. Not yet, not me—no.
“Of course you can.”
“No, I can’t. And, um…I brought a friend, see…” I looked around till I found gauze-wrapped Rachel, bendy-noodly in a far corner, talking intensely to equally noodly Jake, who was immediately recognizable despite his Spider-Man mask. They were standing close, right by the fire-escape window.
That view. That was the same fire escape where Kai and I had sat outside.
“Oh, come on. Five minutes?” Lissa pleaded.
“Maybe later,” I apologized. “I have to hit the restroom. So good to see you, Lissa. But I gotta…go.… ” And I leapt away from her bewildered reaction before she could find the words to protest.
13
You In or Out?
The bathroom was over-lit and unisex and crowded. When I finally got my turn and emerged from the stall, I had to smile. I should have known Lissa would follow me in. She was standing inconveniently in front of the towel dispenser, not paying attention to the others—who even went so far as to apologize when they needed to duck around her to pull down a
I’d lost out on a part in a show? Oh. I’d conveniently blocked that little failure. I decided not to pursue it, for now. “How’s school?”
“I never sleep! You need to come visit me; I’m in student housing—the Meredith Willson res uptown.” Lissa was squeezing my fingertips. “Did you get my email? I know, I know, I should have written way more; I’m the queen of procrastinating. And this year, holy cow. It’s nothing but rehearsals. Did I tell you Lafayette almost didn’t let me graduate because I flunked math? Can you imagine anything more wrong than doing another year at Laf? I was in such a pickle—I had to take summer school—and then I ran away to Russia! For all the rest of the summer!” Her laugh was more bark, as if she were still shocked by her nerve.
“Russia? That’s awesome! What’d you do there?” I was shouting over the music; I could feel my lungs working for the extra pumps of air.
“I studied with the Bolshoi, as part of their ballet exchange program. It was incredible. Anyway. Jeepers,
Ember.
I missed you.” Her eyes bored deep into mine.
“I missed you, too.” And it was true. I hadn’t felt the tug of not seeing her till this minute, all these months later. And here she was, long-leggity Lissa with those same black eyes glittering like mica, her cheeks blotted tea-rose pink in her vanilla skin, her inky threads of hair wisping from her braids. No Lissa, no dancing, no Areacode—none of these prized, wild moments had been in my life since February, and I hadn’t even remembered to yearn for them.
“And the mad scientists made you perfect again!” Now Lissa grabbed both of my hands and swung them out. “Jeez Louise, but I totally hate how your bangs hide your face!”
“Yeah, yeah.” I had to smile. Lissa’s bluntness could be as surprising as those quirky grandma expressions like “in a pickle” that she sometimes used. “I give up. What are you dressed as? Coppélia?”
“I’m dressed as myself—a crazy ballerina.” Now Lissa dropped my hands to hold my shoulders. “This place is almost as packed as New Year’s Eve! Remember last New Year’s Eve?”
I smiled so I didn’t have to lie.
“Hey, and I’d
still
buy that jacket off you, whenever you’re selling.”
What jacket? She couldn’t mean the pink-bubble-gum coat—a boho girl like Lissa wouldn’t be caught dead in that mess. But now something else was happening. Little bits of New Year’s Eve were beginning to flutter down on me like pieces of ticker tape. Sweet, tangled memory. Blowers and streamers. Gold, glittery top hats and oversized Happy New Year sunglasses. A crush of bodies—I’d been so warm that night. Claustrophobic—I could feel it again, the need for fresh air.
“Come dance.” She tugged my arm. “It’ll be like old times.”
“I can’t.” I could feel myself ready to bolt. Not yet, not me—no.
“Of course you can.”
“No, I can’t. And, um…I brought a friend, see…” I looked around till I found gauze-wrapped Rachel, bendy-noodly in a far corner, talking intensely to equally noodly Jake, who was immediately recognizable despite his Spider-Man mask. They were standing close, right by the fire-escape window.
That view. That was the same fire escape where Kai and I had sat outside.
“Oh, come on. Five minutes?” Lissa pleaded.
“Maybe later,” I apologized. “I have to hit the restroom. So good to see you, Lissa. But I gotta…go.… ” And I leapt away from her bewildered reaction before she could find the words to protest.
13
You In or Out?
The bathroom was over-lit and unisex and crowded. When I finally got my turn and emerged from the stall, I had to smile. I should have known Lissa would follow me in. She was standing inconveniently in front of the towel dispenser, not paying attention to the others—who even went so far as to apologize when they needed to duck around her to pull down a
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