Breaking Up Is Really, Really Hard to Do

  _4. When people see the two of you coming, they reach for their rain slickers and umbrellas.

  _5. You know what your boyfriend ate for breakfast without his having to tell you.

  _6. You brush your teeth before you call your honey just in case she can smell your breath over the phone.

  _7. You're covered with so many hickeys people call you “Redneck.”

  If you scored 7-10 points: COLD FISH. You do not have a PDA problem. You could probably stand to loosen up a little. Your honey is starving for affection!

  If you scored 11-16 points: NORMAL LOVEBIRDS. You're affectionate without being icky. You have each other; you don't have to drag everyone else into it.

  If you scored 17-21 points: BLECH! Keep it under wraps, would you? Who are you trying to impress?

  The Kevin Eleven finally jumped onstage. The crowd hooted. “Hey,” Holly said to Mo. “There are only four of them. Not eleven.”

  “That's part of the joke,” Mo said. “I think they just like the way the name rhymes.”

  “Is there someone on that stage named Kevin, at least?” Holly asked.

  “Actually…no. The lead singer's name is Cyrus.”

  The band played a country-tinged rock song and people started dancing. Mo took Holly's hand arid they bopped from side to side together. Autumn and Vince were still glued to each other, even though this wasn't a slow dance.

  Mo awkwardly twirled Holly around, and she saw the door open. A tall, broad-shouldered boy with choppy brown hair walked in. He wore a red t-shirt that said, I'm OUT OF BED—WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?

  Oh no. It wasn't…Yes, it was. Rob.

  He spotted her, waved, and worked his way through the crowd toward her and Mo. Mo hadn't noticed him yet and didn't realize that trouble was headed his way. Holly, on the other hand, was acutely aware of it.

  “Hey!” Rob said. He kissed Holly on the cheek as if she were still his girlfriend. “Lucky to find you here. How's it going, Mo?”

  Mo stared at him for a minute, clearly confused. “It's going fine,” he said slowly. “I guess.”

  Rob took Holly's free hand and danced a few steps with her. Then he said, “Let's get something to drink. Mo, you want something?”

  “I'm fine,” Holly said.

  “Me, too,” Mo said.

  “Sure? Okay. I'll go get a Red Bull.” Rob drifted over to the bar.

  “Holly, what the hell is going on?” Mo asked. “I thought you broke up with him.”

  “I did,” Holly said. “You should have heard me. I'm not sure he heard me, though.”

  “Well, I don't think he has any idea what's going on here,” Mo said. “He doesn't seem to realize we're on a date. You want me to talk to him?”

  It was tempting, but Holly knew she had to do it herself. “No, thanks, Mo. I'll talk to him. I'm sorry about this.” Rob had gotten his drink and was headed back toward them. “I'll take care of it right now. Wait here.”

  She intercepted Rob. “Hey, can we go outside for a minute?” she said.

  “Sure. Whatever you want.” Rob followed her out the door. They stood in the light of a street lamp illuminating the roadhouse parking lot.

  “What's up?” Rob said. “Haven't talked to you in a few days.”

  “I know,” Holly said. “That's what usually happens when you break up with someone.”

  He half-laughed. “Quit kidding around, Holly. Let's go back inside and dance.”

  “Rob, please,” Holly said. “You have to listen to me.” She stared at the t-shirt for extra motivation. Keep your eyes on the shirt, she told herself. Always on the shirt…

  “Holly, you've been really weird ever since that picnic,” Rob said.

  “Yes,” Holly said. “The picnic. Don't you remember what I said at the picnic?”

  “Um…not really. I didn't know there was going to be a test.”

  Holly frowned, frustrated. It was hard enough to break up with him the first time. Why was he making her do it again?

  “Holly, if you want to say something, just say it. Like you usually do. Grinchy.” He grinned to show he was just teasing.

  “You don't remember anything?” Holly asked. “Like I thought we needed some space? And should see other people? In other words, break up?”

  He looked stunned. Why was he doing this? Was he just playing dumb to avoid a real breakup? Or did he really not get what she was trying to say?

  “Break up?” he said. “Why?”

  “It's nothing big. You're a great guy. But all these little things—”

  “Like what? Tell me. I really want to know.”

  “Okay. The way you ask permission before you kiss me? That drives me nuts. And the way you always say you want to do whatever I want, and never express your own opinion? I mean, I can't believe we sat through a whole lunch at Phony Baloney and you never said a word!”

  “What would be the point?” Rob said. “I was trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

  “I had to say something—” Holly began.

  “You're the one who wanted to go there in the first place,” Rob said. “Why did you take me there if you don't like it? I don't get you.”

  “I was trying to teach you a lesson!”

  “A lesson? About what?”

  “About speaking up for yourself!”

  “Thanks a lot. I really need lessons from you, the Phony Baloney Love Ninja!”

  Ooh, he was asking for it now. “Why don't you put it on a t-shirt? You'll say anything if it's printed on a cotton-poly blend!”

  His face went slack, then pale. She'd finally gotten through to him—Holly could see that now. But the look on his face…it pierced her heart. She'd tried so hard to avoid hurting him, and look what happened. She'd blurted out everything in the meanest way possible. She wished she could take it all back now, every word.

  “You know, for somebody who's good at speaking her mind, you sure kept a lot of grievances bottled up,” Rob said. “I'm out of here.” He turned and started toward his SUV. Then he stopped.

  “Holly, 1 have a confession to make. When we were at the picnic, and I was lying down after we ate, and you were talking to me? Well, I fell asleep. Just for a few minutes. But I guess I missed the part where you said you wanted to break up. And I didn't want to upset you and admit that I fell asleep, so I just pretended to go along with whatever it was you were saying. Now I know what I missed. It was bigger than 1 thought.”

  He climbed into the car and drove off. Holly watched him peel out. Now she was the one who was stunned. He was asleep? He never heard her? So he wasn't clueless after all. Just too chicken to tell her that he fell asleep while she was talking. Well, wasn't that part of the problem? If only he'd said something then, none of this would have happened.

  He wasn't afraid to speak his mind anymore. That was clear.

  11

  Lina Slips Up

  To: linaonme

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: You're swimming in shark-infested waters with a bleeding cut on your knee. You know what that means, don't you? CHOMP!

  Lina walked down the hall that dead-ended at the Inchworm office. Kate Bryson had liked Lina's badminton story so much she made it the top sports headline, ahead of the big swim team victory. Then she loaded up Lina with assignments. Lina had decided she didn't have time to work on Inchworm anymore—she'd concentrate on the Seer instead. But she had to break it to Ramona, who, she knew, probably wouldn't much care.

  She heard no cackling or soaring pronouncements from the hall, which meant that Ramona and the cult were probably not there. She peeked into the office. Dan sat at a desk reading Ramona's latest recommendations for publication. He looked up when Lina popped her head in.

  “Hey, Lina,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  Her heart started pounding, as it always did when she was alone with him. “I was just looking for Ramona.”

  “Not here,” he said. “I saw your article i
n the Seer this morning. Nice work. I'm not a big badminton fan but you'll find me in the stands at the next match. Along with a lot of other spectators, I bet. Who knew badminton could be so dramatic?”

  Lina wasn't sure whether to laugh or nod or say something smart, which was impossible since her brain was frozen, so she just shrugged. Beauregard, it's me, Larissa, she thought as she noticed for the millionth time how sincere his blue eyes looked, even when he was joking. Can't you tell it's me?

  He grinned at her. He definitely couldn't tell. He was way too relaxed. To him this was just an everyday student-teacher encounter.

  “Dan, there you are.” John Alvarado, the principal, appeared in the doorway behind Lina, startling her. “Hello, Lina.”

  “Hi.”

  “Listen, Dan, we're having a mission-critical interface tomorrow to recontextualize our action plans for the CRT. We'll be discussing the principles of Total Quality Management, so if you haven't read the printout I left in your box, now's the time. Just a heads-up.”

  Lina thought she caught a hint of amusement flash across Dan's face, but she couldn't be sure. He nodded soberly and said, “No problem. I'll be there.”

  “Great. See you at the interface. Happy educating.”

  “Same to you,” Dan said when Mr. Alvarado had left.

  Lina snickered. “Later, Rod.” Then she froze. Oh no. Rod. Dan's nickname for Mr. Alvarado. He and Mlle. Barker—and Larissa—were the only ones who knew about it!

  She checked Dan for a reaction. Her joke didn't seem to have registered. Maybe he didn't hear her. She did say it kind of softly.…

  “Lina, if I ever start talking like that guy, you have my permission to shoot me,” Dan said. “Seriously. Just put me out of my misery.”

  So was he on to her, or not? Lina couldn't tell. He didn't seem upset, but then he rarely did.

  “Uh, it's a deal,” she said. “Well, I'd better find Ramona. Guess I'll check the smoking bathroom.”

  Oops—another slip. The teachers weren't supposed to know there was a smoking bathroom—designated by the “bad girls”—in the basement of the school. But Dan shrugged it off. Maybe the cool teachers were on to it and didn't want to start a fuss.

  He went back to his reading. “All right. See you in class.

  Lina walked away as fast as she could, her heart racing. That was too close! What if he'd guessed she was Larissa! What if it occurred to him later? What should she do?

  There was nothing she could do—but wait. His next e-mail would tell the tale.

  Dear Lara,

  Another tough day. The chain on my bike broke as I was riding to school this morning. I had to walk my bike home, clean off the grease that had gotten all over my hands and my pants, change, and take the car to school. Of course I was late. And that was only the beginning.

  But things brightened up as the school day drew to an end and every minute brought me closer to another e-mail from you. You have no idea how much our correspondence means to me. It struck me tonight as I stopped at the market to get some things for supper. I was humming, I bought flowers—I felt as if I was cooking for someone special tonight. In reality it was only me and the neighbor's cat, who likes to drop by around suppertime every evening. But I felt another presence at the table. And it was yours. I didn't feel alone, knowing that after I washed the dishes I'd sit down at my laptop and write to you again.

  I hope you won't think this is forward of me, but with every day that passes I get more and more curious about you. Every aspect of you interests me. And I can't help wondering—what do you look like? You saw my photo in my ad on The List. If you were so inclined, I'd love to see yours. Could you send one to me? Only if you feel comfortable about it, of course. I'm interested in everything about you, not just how you look.

  Well, dear Lara, milaya Lara, as they say in Russian (I asked a friend), I wish you another good night, another peaceful sleep.

  Your Beau

  I'm going to swoon, Lina thought, feeling dizzy with excitement. For the first time in my life I understand what the word “swoon” really means.

  His e-mails got better every day. This was the best one yet.

  He's crazy about me! Lina thought. I mean, about her. Oh, I don't know what I mean!

  He hadn't said anything about Rod, or Mr. Alvarado, or how weird it was that a student knew his secret nickname for the principal. Maybe he didn't notice, Lina thought. Maybe he didn't care.

  Anyway, it looked as if she'd gotten away with it. But it was too easy to let those little things slip out. She was going to have to be more careful from now on if she didn't want to be discovered.

  But she had a new problem. He wanted to see a picture! She should have known this would come up eventually. What was she going to do?

  She would ignore it, she decided. She'd just ignore his first request for a photo. And if he asked again, she'd make something up. Or find a picture of somebody else, maybe a friend of Piper's, that she could send instead. She'd worry about that later. Maybe he wouldn't press her about it. He seemed very sensitive to the possibility that she might not want to send pictures of herself to just anybody on the Internet. And that was perfectly reasonable. Except that her e-mails to him—like his to her—were more and more intimate, and sending a picture seemed natural at this point.

  She wished she could tell him the truth when she saw him at school. She wished that would make everything okay.

  But she knew that telling him the truth could ruin the whole thing. And she wasn't ready to lose her Beau. Not yet.

  12

  All's Fair in Love and Art

  To: mad4u

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: There's a fine line between clever and kooky, and you crossed over to the kooky side long ago.

  Mads had a plan. She pulled Lina into the Swim Center Wednesday afternoon. The pool was lively with shouts, whistles, and splashes, the sounds of both the boys and girls swim teams practicing.

  “Mads, this is against all the ethics of journalism,” Lina protested, dragging her feet.

  “Don't think of it as journalism,” Mads said. “This isn't about journalism. It's about love! And art. And all's fair in love and war, and I'm sure that goes for art, too. You should know. You're a poet.”

  “I guess…”

  “Anyway, you can ask him real questions if you want. You might actually get a story out of this,” Mads said.

  “I don't really see a good angle here,” Lina said. “Although ‘Sophomore Tricks Hunk into Posing for Sexy Photo’ might make a nice headline.”

  “Come on, Lina,” Mads said. “Don't pull journalistic standards on me now. Remember a little piece called ‘Badminton Smackdown’?”

  “Well, I guess it won't hurt anyone—”

  “Exactly. Come on, there's Sean.”

  Sean had just emerged from the boys’ locker room, adjusting his goggles. Mads loved to see him in his bathing suit. He was lean and muscular but not too bulked up, and even with his shaggy blond hair tucked under a swim cap, he still looked cool. The cap only made you notice more than ever what a great face he had.

  Mads and Lina crossed the bleachers toward him. Before they reached him a whistle blew, and Rob pulled himself out of the pool and stood in front of them, dripping. Awkward. Way awkward.

  “Hi, Rob,” Mads said. She still liked him even though Holly had dumped him. Both Mads and Lina thought Holly was crazy.

  He wasn't wearing his cap and his thick, choppy hair clumped up when wet. He looked like a puppy who'd just gotten a bath. “Hi,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “We're on a mission,” Mads said. “Uh, of a journalistic nature.”

  “That's cool. How's Holly doing?”

  “How's Holly doing?” Mads echoed. “Urn, I don't know. How's she doing, Lina?”

  “She's okay,” Lina said. The truth was, Holly felt bad about the way she'd left things with Rob at the Rutgers Roadhouse. Mads and Lina heard
all about it the next day. But Holly was convinced it was for the best. She was just sorry about the way things happened. Rob probably wouldn't want to be friends with her for a while, if ever.

  “Should we tell her you said hello?” Mads asked.

  “No,” Rob said. “Don't tell her I said anything.”

  The coach shouted, “Back in the pool, Safran! Breaststroke!” Rob dove in and swam away.

  “Come on, let's catch Sean before the coach nabs him,” Mads said. “You know the plan.”

  They stopped Sean before he reached the pool. “Hey girls,” he said. “What's shaking?”

  Mads elbowed Lina. “I'm, hi, Sean, I don't know if you know me, I'm Lina Ozu, and I'm a sports reporter for the Seer.”

  “Sure, I've seen you around,” Sean said. “Hey, kid,” he added to Mads.

  Sean had called Mads “Kid” ever since he first realized she existed—which took a while. At first it bothered her that he couldn't seem to remember her actual name. But she decided to like it. It was kind of cute.

  “We're doing a special feature on the swim team,” Lina said. “Do you have a few minutes for an interview?”

  “Sure, no worries.” Sean crossed his arms. “Ask away.” The coach spotted him, blew his whistle, and called, “Benedetto, hit the pool now!”

  No! Mads didn't want to lose him so soon. She hadn't even gotten a single shot yet. But she shouldn't have worried. Leave it to Sean.

  “This is important, Coach,” Sean called back. “I'll be right there.”

  “To Mads’ amazement, the coach let it go.

  “Um, Sean, I'm taking pictures for the paper,” Mads said. “You don't mind, do you? It really helps the story if there's a good visual with it. Right, Lina?”

  “Right,” Lina said. She struggled to come up with a realistic-sounding question. “Um, so how did you get started swimming?”

  “Well, like anybody else, my mother made me take lessons when I was little—”

  Mads swarmed around him like a fly, shooting him from different angles. Sean seemed very aware of the camera. His eyes followed it even as he talked.

  “Sean, can I get one with your hands on your hips?” Mads asked. Sean hesitated, but Lina distracted him with, “So now you're the star swimmer on the team, wouldn't you say?”