P.S. I Like You

  “So share something with me. One song idea, at least?” Isabel pointed to my green-and-purple notebook that sat on top of my overnight bag on the floor.

  I felt a wave of shyness and shrugged. “I have a couple ideas. I need to make them better. I do want to share, just not right now.”

  She rolled her eyes then stood up to change into her pajamas. “Chicken.”

  I threw one of my socks at her then collapsed back on her bed again, the ceiling poster taking over my view. She was right. I was a total chicken. “I think Einstein is judging me.”

  “He probably is. Maybe he read your notebook.”

  I laughed and went to get my own pajamas from my bag.

  Isabel changed the subject so I didn’t have to. “One movie tonight or two?” That was code for “how long should we stay up?”

  I smiled. “Two. We have all night.”

  My phone buzzed against my thigh and I sat up on Isabel’s pullout couch, disoriented for a moment. The television hummed blue in front of me. Pale morning light shone through the cracks of the blinds. My phone stopped buzzing, then ten seconds later began again.

  “Hello?” I answered groggily.

  “Lily.” It was my dad. “Your brother’s last soccer game is today. I know you said you wanted to go to one. Just wanted to give you the opportunity.”

  “What time is the game?”

  “At eight. As in, thirty minutes from now.”

  I yawned. Isabel and I hadn’t fallen asleep until after three a.m. But I tried to pull myself together. “Yes, I want to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up on the way in twenty minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Who was it?” Isabel moaned from her bed. She sat up, her normally perfectly spiraled black curls smashed flat against her head.

  I tried to tame my own hair, which always became more crazy curls than soft waves in the mornings.

  “My dad. Go back to sleep. I have to run.”

  “What? Why? What about pancakes?”

  “Next time. Thing Two has a soccer game I forgot about.”

  “He always has a soccer game.”

  “I haven’t been to one yet this year. I promised him I would.”

  Isabel plopped back down on her pillow, her eyes already closed. “Okay. See you Monday.”

  It took me four minutes to see it on Monday. I had unloaded my book, pencil, and single sheet of paper. Mr. Ortega had begun his lecture. My eyes went to the lyric I had written on the desk Friday. That’s when I saw a line beneath mine written in blocky handwriting.

  For the night will soon bring back its shadows.

  It was the next line of the song. What? I was confused. Someone else that went to this school had actually heard one of my favorite indie songs? Apparently I wasn’t the only one bored in this class.

  I smiled and then quickly wrote beneath the line:

  Blackout rocks. I want to be Lyssa Primm when I grow up. I’m impressed you know them.

  I wondered how often the janitors wiped down these desks. That message probably wouldn’t even make it to its intended target. It didn’t matter, though; just knowing someone else in this school had excellent taste in music made me happy. I wondered if I knew them. Morris High wasn’t a small school. But only the juniors used the Chemistry room—which ruled out the person I would’ve thought of right away—Lucas. He seemed like he might’ve been just as into obscure bands as I was. But he was a senior. That was just wishful thinking anyway. The odds it was someone I knew were low.

  Mr. Ortega. What if he had written this message? Mr. Ortega, a Blackout fan? The thought made me laugh. Out loud. My eyes shot to the front of the room, but my teacher was in the middle of a sentence so thankfully he didn’t seem to notice my outburst.

  Lauren, sitting next to me, had, as evidenced by the look on her face. I knew that look. It was basically the silent version of why are you so weird? I thought about telling her I had pictured Mr. Ortega dancing, but I didn’t think that would help. Besides, I’d already learned my lesson about saying things out of context, so I just shrugged.

  Then I glanced back at the writing on my desk.

  The rest of class seemed to pass by a little faster than normal.

  I caught up to Isabel in the hall.

  “Why are you so smiley?” she asked.

  “I always smile.”

  She laughed then stopped. “Okay, actually, you do smile a lot, just not usually at school.”

  “That’s because high school is a crusher of souls.”

  “Not to be dramatic or anything,” she said.

  “Exactly.” But she was right. I was feeling light now, and I could only think of one reason why. “You know that band I’ve told you about? Blackout?”

  We stopped at her locker and she took out some books from her backpack and shoved them inside. “No. What do they sing?”

  I quietly sang a few lines of one song and when recognition didn’t light her face, I switched to another. “No?” I had played them for her several times. It surprised me she hadn’t remembered.

  “Sorry, but you do like weird music,” Isabel said, closing her locker with a grin.

  “I think you mean awesome music, but whatever.”

  “What about them?”

  “Someone else knows who they are.”

  “Well, I would hope for the band’s sake that you’re not their only fan.”

  I smiled. “No, I mean someone here at school. We exchanged a couple lines of lyrics on the desk. It was cool.”

  “You wrote on the desk? Are you trying to get in trouble?”

  I sighed. She did not understand the significance of this revelation.

  A loud laugh sounded from the opposite end of the hall. I turned to look and saw Cade and his crew. Sasha, the only girl in the group, was holding on to his arm. They must’ve been dating now. Not that it would last long. Cade seemed to have a new girl hanging around every week these days. He was looking at his phone while Sasha was talking animatedly to him. It brought back memories of his birthday party again.

  After Isabel had snapped me out of my awestruck daze over Cade’s entryway that day, I had followed her into the kitchen, which was at least three times as big as mine. The island was lined with silver food warming-trays that people in white jackets and bowties were removing the lids from. Who had a fourteenth birthday party catered? Cade had leaned against a far counter and was scrolling through his phone like he couldn’t be bothered with his own party. It was Isabel on his arm that he was easily ignoring that day. She’d whispered something to him after a moment and he shoved his phone in his pocket as though angry at having been interrupted. The expression didn’t last long; a second later he’d put on his fake smile and said, “Eat while it’s hot, everyone.” I’d nodded to the trays and said, “Most people serve pizza and cake.” He’d looked at me with that smug arrogance of his and said, “I’m not like most people.”

  I’d said something rude back. Something like, “Thank goodness.”

  “Can’t you just ignore him? Be nice?” Isabel had pleaded.

  That day I couldn’t ignore him, not after how he’d been treating Isabel. Today, I was going to prove to Isabel that I could. As we headed his way, toward the only way out of the building, I would not respond to whatever abuse he threw my way. But he just gave Isabel a dazzling and confident Cade smile, not acknowledging me at all. She returned it. I realized I was glaring, so I smoothed out my features and kept my mouth shut. It was harder than I had imagined.

  “Impressive,” Isabel said when we had made it outside.

  “What? I just did what I always do.”

  She laughed. “But you did notice that he was civil too, right? See what happens when you are nice?”

  “Yes … ” Wait, what? Was she implying that I always started arguments with Cade? He started it most of the time. I sighed. I sounded like my seven-year-old brother. Maybe she was right. If I were the bigger person, he’d at least leave me alone.
I liked this thought—Cade leaving me alone. Us leaving each other alone. It would make school much more pleasant.

  My sister, Ashley, was waiting in a No Parking zone when I climbed in her car.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi,” she said. “How was school?”

  “Same.” For a second, I thought about mentioning the desk-writing, but decided against it. If Isabel didn’t get the significance, there was no way Ashley would.

  She waited for a group of girls to cross in front of us and then eased forward. “When I went to high school—”

  “Last year,” I interrupted.

  “Yes. I had to take the bus home or have mom pick me up in the minivan.”

  “Mom picked me up in the minivan last week.”

  “Well, that was every day for me. Every day, Lily. And I still managed to have lots of friends. You’re lucky I bought a car. A nice car that isn’t embarrassing.” This was a speech she gave often on the ride home. I’d worn out all my sincere responses already.

  “Yes, I’m so lucky. Thank you, Ashley. However can I pay you back?” I leaned my head against the side window, wondering if she’d notice if I took a nap.

  “Maybe I should work at the campus store more so that you have to experience the true torture of Mom every day.” Ashley sighed and checked the rearview mirror. “She once honked for ten seconds straight when I didn’t see her. And one time she made me take Jonah to the bathroom and he was screaming the whole time that he was going to pee his pants.”

  I laughed.

  “You think it’s funny because it wasn’t you.”

  “I think it’s funny because I have my own stories, Ashley. You’re not the only one in this car who has three siblings and a weird mom.”

  “In this nice, almost-new car.”

  “Yes, it’s the height of class and sophistication. So beautiful. What do they call this color? Cobalt blue or Arabian nights?”

  “No gratitude whatsoever.”

  I smiled and Ashley turned on the radio. We did not have the same taste in music at all. When she saw me cringe, she rolled down the window and turned up the volume, wearing a smile of her own.

  “What is that?” Ashley asked as we walked into the kitchen and she set her car keys in a dish on the counter. I was behind her so I couldn’t see what she was referring to. As I stepped to the side to look, a white furry thing streaked past my foot with my brother, Wyatt, chasing after it. Ashley screamed. I dropped my backpack and jumped onto the counter, now sitting with my back to the cupboards, warily watching the floor.

  Mom chuckled. “It’s a meat rabbit.” She looked up from where she sat at the table stringing a bead onto a piece of wire for what looked like an earring.

  “A meat rabbit?” Ashley asked. “As in, we’re going to eat it?”

  “No, of course not. I saved it from that fate. The boys need to learn responsibility so I got them a pet.”

  I slid off the counter. “And a nice, normal dog wasn’t in the running?”

  The rabbit bounced its way into the kitchen again and Wyatt scooped it up, beaming. Jonah appeared at Wyatt’s side and began petting the rabbit.

  “It lives outside though, right?” I asked.

  “Yes,” my mom said, using her pliers to bend a section of wire. “It’s just getting some exercise.”

  “Right.” I picked up my backpack and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter.

  Ashley, still standing where we came in, said, “That thing is gross. It has pink eyes.”

  “It’s cute,” Wyatt argued.

  My bedroom door was halfway open when I got there. Not a good sign. I toed it open the rest of the way and looked around. Ashley’s side, as usual, had a few jeans strewn across the floor, but other than that it looked the same. I kicked off my red sneakers and placed them in the closet. Just as I took a bite of apple and headed for my guitar, I stepped on something slightly wet. I picked up my foot and what at first looked like a pile of raisins, I soon realized was rabbit poop.

  “Gross.”

  “What? Who’s dying?” my mom asked when I got to the kitchen, a slightly mad look on my face.

  “A rabbit, if I have any say in it. That thing pooped in my room. What was it doing in my room? Can you please keep the boys out of there?”

  “Yes, sorry.” She stood and went to what I hoped was either clean up the poop or tell Wyatt to do it.

  I heard a noise on the back patio and opened the door. The rabbit was there in a black metal cage. It was big, not some fluffy little ball of fur, but a big, ugly rabbit. It stood on its hind legs and sniffed the air.

  “Yes, you smell that,” I told the rabbit. “That’s the smell of your enemy. Get a good whiff. We are not friends.” It could probably smell the apple I still held, not me. I bit off a piece and threw it into the cage, sending it a very mixed message considering the speech I’d given. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Ashley asked.

  I shut the door and turned to face her. “Nobody.”

  “You might want to work on that.” She headed past me and toward our bedroom. So much for my practice time today.

  Another message awaited me in Chemistry the next day. Beneath my—Blackout rocks. I want to be Lyssa Primm when I grow up. I’m impressed you know them—were the words:

  Sorry, I already called dibs on being her. There was a crooked smiley face, and then: Have you listened to The Crooked Brookes? The. Best.

  I’d never heard of The Crooked Brookes before. I assumed it was a band name or a song title. Our similar taste in music was over.

  But my pen pal had left the first clue—she was a girl. It didn’t help me narrow down her identity any more. If anything, it left me feeling even more clueless.

  While Mr. Ortega’s back was turned, I wrote, No, I’ll have to check them out. My response took up the last bit of open space on the right side of the desk. The only side I could write on without it being obvious. It looked as though my distraction for Chemistry was done until the next cleaning day.

  A hole in the cuff of my shirt drew my attention. The stitching had come undone. The perils of a thrift store find. I hadn’t seen that before. I’d have to fix it later. I rolled the sleeve twice to hide the hole and then did the same to the other side.

  From next to me, Lauren whispered, “You really shouldn’t write on the desk like that.” She was reading through the exchange. I wanted to cover it up so she couldn’t, but that seemed silly. Anyone who wanted to could come in and read it.

  “It’s just pencil. It comes off.” To prove my point, I erased the first letter of my very first message. “See.”

  That seemed to satisfy her and she went back to taking her own notes. I tried to take my own notes too but that missing S I’d just erased was distracting me. I filled it back in then listened very hard to what Mr. Ortega was saying.

  I hated newspapers. Newspapers that told me about contests. No, I hated contests. I had nothing. Less than nothing. I had no songs in this notebook I carried around all day writing song lyrics in. Sure, I had a few really good lines here or there, lots of words, and lots of ideas for songs. Well, ideas was a generous word. What had I even meant when I wrote A song about monsters in trees would be awesome? Monsters in trees? Had I really thought something in this book was worthy of a song competition?

  “Why are you groaning?” Ashley asked from the driver’s seat as she drove me to school. I had spent all night looking through my notebook. Sleeping hadn’t made any more lyrics magically appear.

  I looked up. She had just pulled to a stop at the front of the school parking lot. “I wasn’t trying to groan.”

  “You seem to do a lot of things you aren’t trying to do. Maybe you should try not to do things like that. You’d have more friends.”

  “Thanks, Ashley. Good tip.”

  I reached for the door handle just as a group of people walked in front of Ashley’s car, Cade among them. He slid across the hood, landed on
his feet on the other side, and then winked at her.

  Ashley opened her mouth in disgust. “Who is that arrogant jerk?”

  “Nobody.”

  She honked her horn three times.

  “Ashley, stop.”

  She rolled down her window.

  “Hey!” she shouted at Cade. “That was totally rude, what you just did.”

  I jumped out. “See you later.”

  I walked away to the steady stream of my sister’s rant. I tried not to smile, but it was fun to hear someone tell Cade off for once. Nobody seemed to have the guts to do it at this school. He had turned as if actually listening to her, wearing his own smug smile. I picked up my pace so he wouldn’t see me.

  A minute later I heard a voice from behind me. “It runs in the family, I see.” Had he jogged to catch up to me just so he could say that?

  “Our feelings toward you?” I said, forgetting that I was supposed to be ignoring him. “Yes, must be genetic.”

  “I hear there are meds you can take for that.”

  I tilted my head. “Really? Do you sell these anti-Cade-annoyance pills? Is that how your friends manage it?”

  “No, I was referring to your issues, but … ”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yes, I won that round.”

  “So what’s the score, you three, me two hundred?”

  “You’re keeping score?”

  “Always.” At that, he left my side, joining up with a group of friends.

  Not worth it, I repeated over and over again in my head until he was safely out of sight. My jaw hurt and I realized I was clenching my teeth. I let a deep breath out and tried to relax. It helped when I saw Lucas walking alone twenty feet in front of me. I could practically feel all the tension leave my body as I watched his relaxed gait.

  Ahead of Lucas, Isabel waved at me from across the rocks. She bounded over, her dark curls bouncing. By the time she was walking beside me, I’d forgotten all about Cade. And since I was still pretending he didn’t exist, I was not going to tell her what had just happened. I was proud of myself for holding my tongue.