Page 7 of Smiles to Go


  I thought today might be different. I thought she might come back to the seat beside me. She didn’t. Everything was the same: look for me, smile, waggle, first row. Well, what did I expect? Did I expect her to rush back and flop into my lap? Did I think she’d be hauling around a big sign saying WILL KISSED ME LAST NIGHT?

  Stupid me, maybe I did, because I kept turning corners all day, half expecting to bump into her, smiling, maybe winking, shyly/slyly saying something. Instead of thinking about Spanish and physics and English, my head ran imaginary conversations:

  Her: Hi.

  Me: Hi.

  Her: Nice time last night.

  Me: Yeah.

  Her: I didn’t sleep much.

  Me: Me neither.

  Her: I kept thinking about…

  Me: What?

  Her (sly grin): You know.

  Me: Yeah.

  Her: Know what I wish?

  Me: What?

  Her: I wish a whole year passed already and this is Valentine’s Day again.

  Me: Yeah.

  Her: So when are you going to kiss me again?

  Lunchtime—not the one in my head but the real one—was a dud. She talked to me. She talked to BT. She talked to the other kids at the table. She didn’t send me any special, secret smiles. No winks. No mention of Valentine’s Day. No leading questions to the others, like, “So, what did you guys do last night?”

  Nothing.

  So after lunch I started asking myself leading questions. Like, Did Mi-Su say anything to BT about last night? Like, What?

  Suddenly I wanted to check out BT for clues. I tried to remember. Was he looking at me funny today? Did he seem a little frosty? I couldn’t check him out now because he took another half-day. When lunch was over, instead of going to his next class, he just kept walking right on out of school.

  I started running a new conversation in my head:

  Her: So, what did you do last night?

  Him: Nothing. Hung at home. Read. You?

  Her: Went to Smedley.

  Him: At night?

  Her: Yeah. With Will.

  Him (taken aback): Our Will? Will Tuppence?

  Her: No, Will Shakespeare.

  Him: Wha’d you do?

  Her: Drank hot chocolate. Looked at the stars. He brought his telescope.

  Him: What else?

  Her: He kissed me.

  Him: Did you kiss him back?

  Her: I guess you could say that.

  Him: Did you like it?

  Her: I guess you could say that.

  Him: Do you love him? Is that what it is now, Will and Mi-Su forever?

  Her (laughs): Hey—the place. The night. The stars. How could you not kiss somebody?

  Him: What about us? You, me, the star party? Was it as good as that?

  Her (sly grin): Wouldn’t you like to know?

  By last class I was a mess. Did she? Didn’t she? And then school was over and I was heading for the exit when I felt someone squeeze my hand. She was rushing past me, saying, “Gotta run!” I knew she was heading for the auditorium and tryouts for The Music Man. I felt that squeeze all the way home. I feel it now. It says everything. Yes!

  PD148

  I was right: the world has changed. I’m just not sure exactly how.

  We were at Mi-Su’s for Monopoly. I went over early. I figured we could fit in a little alone-time together. And so who answers the door? BT! He was already there. He’s never early. Late is the only thing he ever is. That’s his middle name: Late. BLT, I call him sometimes.

  Words jammed in my head: Why are you early? Do you know about me and Mi-Su the other night? What did she say to you? What’s going on here? The words that came out were: “You’re early.”

  “So are you,” he said. He reached for the pizza boxes I carried. “Gimme. I’m hungry.”

  An hour later BT went up to the bathroom and Mi-Su and I found ourselves alone. At first neither of us said a word. I snuck a glance at her. She was counting her money. Finally I reached out and touched her hand with the tip of my finger and said, “Hi.” Her head came up with that dazzling smile. She did the same fingertip thing to my hand. “Hi.” And suddenly everything was okay. Perfect.

  “How did the tryouts go?” I said.

  “Good.”

  “Did you make it?”

  “Everybody makes it. It’s just a question of what role you get.”

  “What role do you want?”

  “Well, every girl wants to be Marian.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “The female lead. The librarian. She gets to sing all the great songs.”

  “That’ll be you.”

  She laughed. “No, it won’t be me. It’ll be some senior. Probably Jen Willard. I’ll be in the chorus. I’ll be happy.”

  And then BT came back and resumed buying up railroads and “wheelin’ and dealin’,” mortgaging to the hilt, went broke and on his next move landed on Chance. Picked a card. Advance to Illinois Avenue. He slid his thimble down to Illinois, which I owned. At this point I only had two houses on it, so all he owed me was $300, but it might as well have been three million. I said, “Three hundred,” and Mi-Su burst out laughing.

  “What?” I said.

  “You,” she said. “The way you said it.”

  Already I didn’t like how this was going.

  “How many ways are there to say three hundred?”

  She laughed again. “I don’t know. You say it so…casual. So businessy. Like you expect him to pay it. Like you don’t know he’s totally broke.”

  I turned to BT. I tried to sound as mournful as possible. “I regret to inform you, sir, that a rental fee in the amount of three hundred dollars is now due.”

  BT held out his hands, wrists together to be cuffed. “Take me to the poorhouse.”

  “Not yet,” said Mi-Su. There was a new firmness in her voice. I expected her usual Operation Rescue BT, but this time it was different. She didn’t give him the $300; she handed it directly to me. She looked me in the eye, smiled, daring me to say something. And she wasn’t finished. She picked up her yellow title deed cards—Atlantic Avenue, Ventnor Avenue, Marvin Gardens—and plopped all three down in front of BT. Plus the houses she had built on them.

  I was practically biting my tongue in half.

  She arched an eyebrow. “You say something?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “You’re not going to reach for the rule book, are you?” She was grinning.

  I pled ignorance. “Rule book? Me?”

  “Because this isn’t money, you know. It’s property. And it’s not a loan. It’s a gift. It’s”—she beamed her smile on BT—“charity.”

  “Hot dog!” piped BT. He put the green houses on the yellow properties. “Wheelin’ and dealin’.”

  Mi-Su was now wearing her I’m-so-sincere face. “We’re not breaking any rule book rules here, are we, Willy?”

  She knows I hate that name. “Not that I can see.”

  “Because we sure don’t want to break any rules, do we, Willy?”

  “Can’t have that,” I said.

  There was more than Monopoly going on here, but I didn’t know what it was. I had a feeling that if I said the wrong word, she would leap across the board into his arms and shout out: “He’s the one I want!”

  The game, if you can call it that, played out. BT, even with his windfall “gift,” still managed to blow it all and wound up broke as always. After that, Mi-Su made a string of stupid moves and declared bankruptcy. “You win, Will,” she said cheerily.

  Walking home, I wondered who the real winner was.

  PD149

  I’m dreaming. I’m standing behind Mi-Su. I know there’s a smile on her face but I can’t see it. I want to tell her to turn around. I keep trying but I can’t speak. I can feel my throat getting sore. And now something is coming out of my mouth, but it isn’t words. It’s tiny flashes. A glittery stream of them. Protons leaving me flying and dying into her b
lack hair.

  PD151

  She was right. She didn’t get the role of Marian the librarian. She doesn’t care. She’s in the chorus, a citizen of River City. She gets to sing and dance.

  “I can’t wait,” she said.

  “Won’t you be nervous?” I said.

  “Probably,” she said.

  She sang a few notes. I clapped. She bowed. She threw out her arms. She blurted,

  “I love it!”

  PD155

  Monopoly. My house. I told Mi-Su if she came over early we could play a little chess. Still maneuvering for alone time. So here she was, with the pizzas. Of course, Tabby was here, too, but I had that problem covered. I had lured her upstairs with Finding Nemo on the DVD player.

  So we were alone in the basement, but my mind wasn’t on chess. It was where it’s been since this new idea came to me yesterday. I moved a bishop. I yawned, acted casual. “Hey,” I said, “I just thought of something.”

  “What?” she said, mulling over her next move.

  “Goop is playing at the Cineplex.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Deep breath…casual…casual…

  “Wanna go?”

  “Okay.”

  “So I was thinking next Saturday? Instead of Monopoly?”

  “Okay.”

  Yes!

  I wasn’t happy for long. BT arrived. Tabby heard him and abandoned Nemo and we were all standing there and hadn’t even opened the pizzas when Mi-Su says to BT, “We’re going to the movies next week instead of Monopoly.”

  “Yeah?” he said. “What are we gonna see?”

  “Goop.”

  Tabby shrieked. “Ooo! Ooo! Can I come?”

  “It’s scary,” said Mi-Su. “You’re too little.”

  Tabby stood at attention. “I’m not little. I’m big.” She flopped into Mi-Su’s lap. “Please! Pleeeeeeze!”

  “You are little! You’re not even in first grade! You’re an infant!”

  I wondered who was shouting—and realized it was me. Everyone was staring. Tabby was clinging to Mi-Su. Snap #2.

  Hey, listen, sorry about that. Tabby just got caught in the crossfire. She’s not the one I’m mad at. I’m mad at you, BT. And you, Mi-Su. Because when I said WE could go to the movies, the WE meant you and me. Not you and me AND BT.

  That’s what I was thinking, but I didn’t say anything.

  Mi-Su reached down over Tabby and counted out the money for her hotel. “Well,” she said, “that was quite the outburst. And a waste. The fact is, big girl”—she tweaked Tabby’s nose, Tabby giggled—“your mother isn’t going to let you go anyway.” She handed the money to me. I’m always the banker. She wasn’t smiling.

  Am I losing Mi-Su already?

  PD156

  I’m afraid she’s never going to smile at me again.

  PD157

  She did! As we passed in the hallway on the way to first period. And in algebra and English. And at lunch. She smiled and talked and everything seemed normal.

  I don’t see her much after school anymore. She’s busy rehearsing for The Music Man.

  PD158

  Imaginary conversation with BT:

  “You’re still my best friend, OK?”

  “OK.”

  “Always will be.”

  “Ditto.”

  “But listen, this movie coming up Saturday night—it was supposed to be just me and Mi-Su.”

  “Really? OK. I didn’t want to go anyway.”

  “No, wait, let me explain. I mean, in my mind I was asking her for a date. Me and her. To the movies. OK? See, like, things are different now. I mean, we’re all still friends, I’m not saying we’re not. It’s just that, well, on Valentine’s night we—by ‘we’ I mean Mi-Su and I—we went to Smedley Park and I kissed her and she kissed me back and it was, y’know, special. I mean, something sort of started between us. I really like her. I mean, as a girlfriend. I keep thinking about her. That’s why I asked her to the movies. And now it’s, like, the three of us, and I just thought maybe you ought to know that Mi-Su and I have this thing going—OK, I have this thing going, I’m still not sure about her—and, well, if you, y’know, like, decided you couldn’t make it Saturday night for some reason and Mi-Su and I had to go to the movie all by ourselves, alone, just the two of us, well, that would, like, be OK.”

  “OK.”

  “Uh, OK what?”

  “OK.”

  PD163

  Sunday. In the dormer. Alone with the wedding gifts. Still trying to figure out what happened last night.

  Mrs. Kelly drove us to the Cineplex. Mi-Su sat between me and BT in the backseat. Mrs. Kelly, the jokester, said, “No hanky-panky back there.” A minute later Mi-Su piped up, “Mom! They’re both trying to kiss me!” A few more minutes of nonsense, and then BT went to sleep. He does that a lot. He stays up all night and then nods off at odd times.

  Mrs. Kelly dropped us off. The plan was for her to pick us up at eleven at the nearby Pizzarama. Glory be!—BT paid for his own ticket. And then whipped out a ten-dollar bill. “We went detecting last night,” he explained. A bucket of buttered popcorn and Peanut Chews and the bill was gone.

  Ten minutes into Goop BT says, “This sucks.”

  “It’s just getting started,” I said. “Give it a chance.”

  We were all dipping into the bucket of popcorn, Mi-Su between us. She held the bucket. Sometimes all three of our hands were in it.

  Five minutes later BT says, “I’m leaving.” He starts to get up.

  Mi-Su clamps down on his arm. “No.”

  I’m thinking: Yes!

  And wondering: Why doesn’t she just let him go?

  “It stinks,” said BT. “It’s a scary movie that isn’t scary. It’s not even funny.”

  Mi-Su nodded. “It does stink. I’m going, too.” She turned to me. “Will?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Coming?”

  Her eyes were glowing from the screen.

  “You’re really going?” I said.

  “Yeah. Come on.”

  “We just paid money.”

  “Money schmoney. Come on.”

  Her glowing eyes were staring into mine.

  “Stay,” I said.

  On the other side of her, BT popped up—

  “Bye”—and headed up the aisle.

  “Coming?” said Mi-Su.

  “No,” I said.

  “Bye,” she said. She handed me the bucket of popcorn and took off.

  I was stunned. Numb. It had all happened so fast, out of nowhere. I kept seeing her hand clamped on his arm. Her last words: “Coming?” and “Bye.” She knew I wanted to stay, and she knew he wanted to go. She picked him. Instead of saying “Coming?” why couldn’t she have said, “Will, come on. Please. We don’t want to go without you. I don’t want to go without you.” But no. It was like an ultimatum: Coming?…No?…Bye. No hand tugging on my arm.

  This time a week before, I had pictured her sitting in the movie beside me, maybe my arm around her, or holding hands, in our own little world. And now they were outside, the two of them, together, and I was inside, alone. How did it happen? Have I been kidding myself all this time? Have she and BT had a thing going all this time and I was just too dumb to see it? Is that why she included him in my movie date? I saw her kissing him with my own eyes at the star party. Why did I believe her when she said it wasn’t about BT? And what about Valentine’s night? Was she just feeling sorry for me? Tossing me a crumb?

  I thought: She didn’t exactly bend over backward trying to get you to come along. Maybe they’re happy you stayed behind. You don’t want to go anywhere you’re not wanted, do you? Wake up, stupid—they probably planned this whole thing.

  But on the other hand…she did look into my eyes and say, “Coming?” And she did squeeze my hand in school the day after Valentine’s.

  Up on the screen the Goop was sliming under a doorway, oozing up a bedsheet and into the nostrils of a sleeping girl. I
bolted from my seat. Popcorn flew. I rushed out of the theater.

  They were gone.

  The Cineplex is in an outdoor shopping center called Edgemont Plaza. There’s a Main Street, tall lantern-style lamps, brick sidewalks, neon. It’s supposed to look like an old-fashioned downtown. This being early March and still cold, there weren’t a lot of people outside. I started walking. Up and down Main Street. Around the parking lots. Behind the stores. I aimed for the shadows, the crannies. I kept expecting to bump into them making out behind some SUV or Dumpster. And if that did happen, what would I say? “Oh, hi! Mind if I watch you make out?…Mind if I join you?”

  If I caught them, what would she say this time? “The place…the night…the neon”?

  I was getting frantic. I was kicking myself for not leaving the movie with them.

  I peered into the windows of restaurants, ducked into stores. I found her in Barnes & Noble. In the café section, eating a little round chocolate Bundt cake, her favorite food in the world. She was washing it down with a latte. No BT in sight.

  She saw me coming. She waved me over. “Hi!” She seemed sincerely happy to see me. I sat down.

  “So how was the movie?” she said.

  I didn’t want to tell her what I had really been doing for the last hour. “You were right,” I said. “It stunk.”

  “You should listen to us next time.”

  “Yeah.”

  Us.

  “So,” I said, “where’s your boyfriend?”

  I don’t know why it came out that way.

  She didn’t skip a beat. She didn’t raise her eyebrows. She didn’t say, “What boyfriend?” Or, “What are you talking about?” Or, “You mean BT? He’s not my boyfriend, silly you.”

  She just chuckled and said, “Sleeping.”

  “Oh,” I said, and then not much else as she ate her cake and gabbled on about The Music Man and the cast and how much fun rehearsals were. Finally she drained the latte and said, “Okay, time for pizza.” Mi-Su outeats everyone I know. “I have one regret in life—” she said. She licked her fingertip and used it to pick cake crumbs from the table. I thought of an anteater’s tongue flicking and picking off ants.

  “What’s that?” I said, not sure I wanted to know.