“Shoot.”
“What’s up?” Cyn’s voice drifted over the top of her locker, startling me.
How long has she been there? “I, uh, just forgot to grab something.” After reaching for a pencil, I slammed the locker door shut. “Got it now. Catch ya on the flip side.” I gave her a quick wave, but she just stood there and watched me go, wearing an odd expression on her face.
Ben caught up with me at lunch and slid his orange plastic cafeteria tray next to mine. Beth joined us a moment later. She’d been eating lunch with me since the first day of school.
“Meatloaf surprise,” Ben said, staring down at the quivering blob of gray mush in front of him. “Surprise! No meat.” Beth laughed. “And yet, you’re still going to eat it. Aren’t you?” She had a small tub of wilted lettuce in front of her and was steadfastly picking out all of the brown bits.
I pushed my spork around in my meatloaf. “It’s not too bad if you cover it with gravy. Then you can’t tell what it is.” “I’ll stick to my salad, thanks.” Beth picked up a tiny forkful of lettuce and chewed. “Did you guys see the new posters the cheerleaders put up for the Hollow Ball this year? It’s supposed to be some art-deco thing, but it looks like crap.” Ben snorted some of his meatloaf surprise.
“It’s true!” she said. “It looks like someone took twelve buckets of paint and just splashed it all around. And I think that someone was blind.” “Hey,” I said. “Blind people can create amazing art. I saw this exhibit in the city once that was just incredible.” “Let me rephrase.” Beth tilted her head to one side and thought about it, lettuce dangling limply from her fork. “A blind someone who isn’t a professional artist and doesn’t have an ounce of creativity in their body. Better?” Not really, but okay. “I can’t believe that it’s October already.” I changed the subject. “Where did the last two weeks go? I never even saw them putting the posters up.” “You didn’t?” Beth looked shocked. “They’ve been putting them up, like, every two feet around the whole school. And the bathroom walls are plastered with ’em.” I shrugged. I’d been too busy thinking about the Revs and Caspian to pay any attention. “Who are you taking to the ball?” I asked her. “Lewis? Or someone new?” “Depends on what day of the week it is. If you ask me on a Monday, I’m going with Lewis. But if you ask me on Thursday? I’m thinking Grant, a cute junior I have computer class with.” “Does it matter what day of the week the Hollow Ball falls on?” Ben asked.
I nudged him with my knee. “Ooooh, good question.”
“I don’t get it,” Beth said.
“Well, if you tell Grant on a Thursday that you’ll go with him, but the Ho’ Ball falls on a Saturday, does that change things?” Beth stuck her middle finger up at him, and Ben just laughed.
“I’m sure whoever you go with, you’ll have a great time together,” I said.
“Thanks, Abbey,” Beth said sweetly. “I think so too.”
I moved my sludge-masquerading-as-food around a bit more. No amount of gravy was going to help it. “Ugh, I’m so done.” “Me too.” Beth pushed away her salad and then downed a carton of milk. “I have to-” Her phone buzzed, interrupting her. She looked down at it. “Aaaand, it’s Monday.” She punched a couple of buttons, then looked up and glared at the table two rows away from us. “He’s sitting right over there. But does he come to me? No. I have to go to him. Gah!” Gathering her tray, she shot us an aggravated look. “Bye, guys. Time to go make Monday happy. Thursday’s looking better and better.” I gave her a pitying smile. “See ya. Good luck.”
Ben just shoveled in another mouthful of meatloaf and grunted.
“Well, that was fun,” I said, watching her go.
“Hey, how well do you know the new girl?” Ben said suddenly. “Cyn.” “Okay, random much?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Ben gave me a cheesy grin. “But still, how well do you know her?” “Why? Are you hoping I’ll play matchmaker? Do you want to ask her to the Hollow Ball?” He looked uncomfortable. “I thought about it, but now I’m not sure.” “Why? What is it?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But she was asking me about you.” “Asking what?”
“Like if you talk to yourself, or talked to Kristen, or anything like that.” She must have heard me talking to Caspian this morning.
“What did you tell her?” I demanded.
He put up both hands in surrender. “Nothing. I just wanted to let you know. She said that it was cool, no big if you do,” he said quickly.
“She probably just heard me singing along with my iPod,” I muttered.
Ben nodded and looked like he wasn’t even giving it a second thought. “Anyway, I just wanted to know if you guys had, like, a history or something.” “Nope. She’s cool, I think.”
But I wasn’t very sure about that.
“So, then, you don’t mind if I ask her out?” His grin was obscenely flirtatious, and I flicked a piece of leftover salad at him. “Hornball.” On Friday, Ben met me at my locker again and danced his way down the hall to see me.
“Cute,” I said. “Trying to impress all the single ladies?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“Color me impressed.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled something out, using one hand to shield it like a magician drawing cards. “This is what should impress you.” He held out two tickets.
Silently I groaned as soon as I saw what they were. “That’s supposed to impress me? Paper?” “Not just any paper but two magical tickets to a fantasy land called the Hollow Ball.” He dangled them in front of me. “There are only two weeks left. These babies are a hot commodity.” “So why are you showing them to me?”
“Because I’m asking you if you want to go.”
“Ben …”
“Abbey …”
“I don’t know.” I groaned out loud this time.
He brandished the tickets again. “Come on. May I please have the honor of your company at the Hollow Ball? Or something like that. I showed you all of my best dance moves.” “Why me?”
“Because when I heard Beth talking about who she was taking at lunch the other day, and didn’t hear you talking about who you were taking, I knew who I wanted to spend the evening with.” “A friendly evening?” I said.
“I can’t promise that once you see me in my studmuffin tux you won’t want to rip the clothes right off my body. But if that happens, I’m sure we can find a nice, quiet place.” “I’m sure I’ll have a hard time controlling myself,” I said dryly.
His face perked up. “Is that a yes? What time should I pick you up?” “That’s an I-don’t-know. Let me think about it.”
He opened up the front page of the Spanish book I was holding and stuck the tickets inside. “Here. Now you can make your choice. And if you choose not to go with me, you can take someone else. I’ll understand.” My mouth dropped open and I shook my head at him. “Ben. Why are you such a nice guy?” He turned to dance back down the hall. “It’s just my nature.”
“I think you should reconsider,” Caspian said again as we walked home from school that afternoon. I’d told him about the tickets Ben had given me, and Caspian had made the same argument the entire way home.
“No. I don’t want to go.”