That was a depressing thought. Liz still remembered back when she and Maria were eight years old. Every time they had a sleep over they would haul out the Barbie and Ken dolls and dress them up in their formal wear. Then they were off to the prom.
At one of those sleep overs Liz had called her papa and asked him if she could stay up until midnight on prom night. She hadn't thought there was anything silly about asking permission ten years in advance. He'd pretended to think it over very seriously, then said yes.
"And what about after high school?" Maria pressed. "What about college? What about the whole endless rest of your life? Are you going to spend all those years thinking about Max?"
Liz's stomach lurched. Maria had a point. She was starting to feel like she had some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, one where she had to think of Max sixty times a minute.
Maria grabbed her elbow. "You want a good place to start," Maria whispered. "A training-wheels guy? Look over there." Maria gave her chin a jerk toward the far end of the hall.
Liz glanced over and saw Jerry Cifarelli standing in front of his locker. Jerry was one of those guys who seemed like an extra in the movie of high school. Always in the background. Sort of cute. Sort of smart. Sort of athletic. Sort of… sort of in every way, just not outstanding in even one area.
"Go on," Maria urged. "He's had a thing for you since you beat him out of the finals for the science fair when you were freshmen."
"First year," Liz corrected automatically. "Freshmen is a sexist term." She took another quick look at Jerry.
"At least go talk to him," Maria urged.
Max had made it totally clear that he wasn't going to let her get too close. She could either cry herself a river or move on.
"Okay. Time to move on," she muttered. She smiled at Maria. "I'll call you later."
A huge grin broke across Maria's face. "You better. I want to hear every word."
Liz felt calm as she walked toward Jerry. Totally calm. Calm in a way she never felt around Max. Not that she felt nervous around Max, exactly. Being around Max made her feel like she'd just taken a shower with a loofah sponge-all tingly and alive.
I sound like a bad commercial, Liz thought. Use loofah sponges and feel like you're in love.
In love. That was the whole problem. She was in love with Max. And that made every other guy seem sort of.
Too bad, Liz told herself. You're not getting out of this.
She tapped Jerry on the shoulder. "That pop quiz in bio was killer. I can't believe either of us is still standing."
"Yeah," Jerry agreed. "I stayed up till three, studying for a French test. I barely got through that, then-bam, pop quiz."
"My friend Maria always tells me to drink a peach smoothie after monster days. She says that peaches are antitoxins. Or that the smell has a soothing effect. I can't remember which."
Okay, that was a nice, not too obvious hint, Liz thought. But did the boy get it?
Jerry heaved his backpack over his shoulder. "You, uh, want to go get one?" he asked.
"Sure," Liz said. "There's a place at the mall."
Jerry grinned. "Let's go."
Maria would be so proud, Liz thought as she followed him out into the parking lot.
"I'm right over there." Jerry pointed to a bright yellow Beetle, which was parked right next to Max's Jeep.
Just a little hello from the gods of irony, Liz thought. She forced herself to look over at the Jeep. She found Max staring back at her. The second her eyes met his, he dropped his gaze. But not before she saw the hurt expression.
Poor Max. She felt like running over to him and apologizing. But he'd had his chance. He could have had her in a heartbeat-and he knew it. It was his decision to push her away.
Now he'd have to live with it. They both would.
"Kevin, are you home?" Maria called.
Her little brother didn't answer. She didn't bother calling for her mom. Her mom was never home anymore. She was either at work or out on some date. Someday, maybe when she was about thirty-five, Maria would get used to the idea of her mom dating. And maybe when she was fifty, she'd get used to the idea that her parents were divorced.
Maria wandered into her room and spotted a folded piece of paper on her bed. She sat down and smoothed out the note. It said:
Dear Maria,
I'm going out to dinner with friends after work. I borrowed your black sweater. Isn't it fun that we can wear the same size? Would you be an angel and make spaghetti for you and K? Thanks a trillion.
Love,
Mom
Her black sweater. Her accidentally shrunk, so-tight-she-only-wore-it-around-the-house black sweater. Her midriff-baring black sweater. Sorry, but Maria didn't buy the whole dinner-with-friends line. That sweater wasn't what you wore for something like that. Her mom was obviously going out with one particular male friend.
I'm never wearing that sweater again, Maria thought. No, not even. I'm going to start using that sweater as a dust rag. I can't believe she would wear that on a date. She shouldn't even be going on dates!
She decided she needed a shot of cedar. Cedar was the most calming scent. Maria grabbed her backpack and rooted around inside. She knew she'd brought a vial of cedar oil to school so she could take a whiff right before her oral report in English.
Maria's fingers closed around a tube, and she pulled it out. Nope, just a lipstick. It wasn't even hers. It was superdark, one of those plum shades. She loved the color, but it didn't work on her. Her face was all pale, and she had this light hair, so when she wore that color, she felt like a walking mouth, as if that was the only thing people saw when they looked at her.
It must be Liz's, Maria decided. Liz could definitely carry the color off. She was so dramatic looking, anyway, with her long black hair and dark eyes and those awesome cheekbones.
I wonder how it's going with Liz and Jerry? she thought. She felt something slither under her calf. What was that? She jerked her leg back. She didn't see anything.
Maria stood up and grabbed her bedspread in both hands. She whipped it off and stared down at her bed. Her flowered sheets were dissolving into a mass of colored dots. No, not just the sheets, the whole bed. The whole bed was turning into a whirling mass of colored dots.
This isn't happening. This isn't happening, Maria thought. She squeezed her eyes shut. She would count to three and open her eyes. When she opened her eyes, everything would be back to normal. Everything. Would. Be. Back. To. Normal. It had to be.
One. Two. Three. Maria opened her eyes. Her whole room was a swirl of colored dots. No walls, no furniture, no nothing. Just dots. They whirled around her in a tornado of color, spinning faster and faster.
Maria's stomach lurched. A wave of dizziness pounded through her. Then the dots began to slow down. They clumped together, forming a polished floor under her feet, forming a shiny brass railing to her right, forming a row of stores to her left.
Forming the mall! She was standing on the upper deck of the mall.
She reached out and grabbed the railing that ran around the walkway. The metal felt cool under her fingers. Cool and solid. But how could it be?
Maria really needed that vial of cedar now. Don't panic, she told herself. You're okay. You're safe. You might have a mild case of insanity, but you're safe.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the railing. A little girl rolled a doll stroller toward Maria. See, Maria thought. She looks perfectly normal. Just a happy little girl out with her doll.