Audition & Subtraction (21 page)

Me.

I didn't want to be Tay with a hyphen—and least, not all the time. I wanted to have a best friend, but I wanted to be my own best friend, too. That meant I had to stand my ground.

Starting tonight.

“I'm going to go,” I said. I grabbed the jeans and stood, but she held up her hand, stopping me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

She twisted her fingers together, and there was a hesitant look in her eyes I hadn't seen before. “Okay. If that's what you want to do. But just because you're sleeping in a different room doesn't mean we can't hang out together, does it?”

Relief filled me, rising from my toes up my spine and to the tips of my ears. “I guess not,” I said, half laughing. Warm gushiness filled me, and there was no way I
was going to put that into words. So instead, I reached over, grabbed Lori's wrist, and pulled her into a hug.

When we broke apart a minute later, we both laughed.

“So we're okay?” she said. “Just like before?”

Not just like before
. I wasn't going to forget what happened. But I still nodded.

Because I was pretty sure that we were going to be okay.

“Come on, we have to go!”

Our truce had lasted all of three hours. Enough time for us to change out of our dresses, eat a bag of rice cakes, and watch part of a
Buffy
marathon. Now Lori stood over me, hands on her hips, giving me the evil eye.

“I'm not going to that party,” I said.

“You're the one who wanted to go in the first place,” she reminded me.

“That was before.”

“Is it because Brandon is rooming with Michael?”

“It has nothing to do with Michael.”

Her eyes widened suddenly. “Aaron.”

Just his name made my stomach churn like Dad's new mixer. I rolled off the bed and onto my feet. “I'm leaving,” I said. “I'll see ya later.” I sidestepped left, toward the door.

She sidestepped right, blocking my way. “Come clean,” she demanded. “What's the deal?”

“I thought you weren't going to be so bossy.”

“I'm not being bossy. I'm being a concerned and interested friend.” She flashed me a “so there” smile.

“Fine,” I said. “I'm not going because Aaron will be there. With Steph,” I added pointedly.

“So?”

“So I don't want to watch her giggle and flip her hair every five minutes.”

I stepped to my right just as Lori stepped to her left. A best friend who could read your mind had a definite downside.

“Because you still like him?” she asked.

“As a friend. Strictly Level One.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, while her eyes beamed “liar.” “If you just like him as a friend, then why not come to the party?”

“Because we had a fight, and I feel stupid about it. Now, would you let me get by?”

“No,” she said, brushing off that idea with a wave of her hand. “Say you're sorry, and tell him you still like him. He still likes you.”

I sank back down on the bed. “He does not. He won't even talk to me.”

She sat across from me. “That's proof he
does
like you.”

“It is not.”

“I've had a boyfriend for three weeks,” she said. “I'm practically an expert on these things.”

I smiled. “I wish it were that easy.”

“Why can't it be? If you can do a solo for Hallady, you can talk to Aaron.”

I flopped flat on my back. “It's different.”

“So you're wimping out?”

“I'm not wimping out.” I shot up to my elbows. Then I paused.
Was I?

I couldn't just walk up to Aaron and tell him I was sorry. Except, that uh, yeah, I could. “Can't” is what we tell ourselves when something is hard. My mom's words repeated in my head just as clear and annoying as if she were there in person.

“This is impossible,” I fumed. “He's hanging out with Steph now. They're playing Sudoku together.”

“But you're the one he likes.”

“You don't know that.”

“There's one way to be sure,” she said. “Come to the party and talk to Aaron.”

“And risk public humiliation and shame?”

Lori grinned. “Exactly.”

I sighed. “Life was much easier when I was a wimp.”

From the sound of things, the party was in full swing when Lori and I got there. A muted hum of voices and music filled the hallway. We paused outside the door to take a breath and do a last-minute beauty check.

In the end, Lori had worn the purple shirt, and I'd borrowed a lacy maroon cami. My hair was still in a bun, but Lori had pulled curly pieces loose around my ears and neck. I looked very cool in a messy-diva kind of way.

Michael and Brandon's room was exactly like ours, only the carpet had blue swirls and ours had green. They'd plugged an iPod into a speaker and hip-hop music thrummed around all the voices. There must have been thirty kids. Lori and I both hovered near the door, trying to take it all in. José and some of the other percussion guys were sitting on one bed with a big bowl
of Cheetos. On the other bed, Tanner, Frank, and Brandon were laughing about something. One of the dressers had been shoved out of the way, and a group of kids sat on the carpet.

My heart paused in midbeat. Aaron sat in the circle with his back to me.

“Hey, you made it.”

I turned to see Michael walk up and slide an arm over Lori's shoulder. She blushed and smiled, her eyes flickering to mine for just a second. It was easier to feel happy for Lori now that I could actually see what she'd gained—without worrying so much about what I had to lose.

“What's everyone doing over there?” I asked, gesturing to where Aaron sat.

“Seven in Heaven,” Michael replied.

Even as he said the words, the closet door opened and Kevin and Jamie came out, blinking and grinning. From the bright red splotches on Jamie's cheeks and the stupid grin on Kevin's face, I'd say the two of them had done more than talk during their seven minutes. You didn't have to kiss in the closet, but that was the idea. Hardly anyone stayed in the whole seven minutes, but everyone came out looking embarrassed. Melanie and Jenny were arguing over who got to spin next.

Lori nudged my shoulder. “You gonna go over?”

I shook my head, my heart in my shoes. Steph sat
next to Aaron, so close they looked together. As in
together.
“I'm going to head to Angie's room.”

As if she'd heard me, Steph looked up and flipped her straight brown hair over one shoulder. Then she flashed me a victory smile.

“Did you see that?” Lori asked.

“As if I care,” I muttered. But I did.

“My turn to spin,” Steph said loudly.

What?
A shot of anger curled my fingers into fists. So she could take Aaron into the closet?
Over my dead body.

“Huh?” Michael asked.

Oops—had I said that out loud? My face flushed, but my fists stayed clenched. “He hasn't even broken up with me. Not to my face,” I said. “How can he go into the closet with another girl when we're not officially done?”

Fired up, I strode to the circle. Melanie was fighting with Steph over who got to spin. I squatted down next to Jenny and tapped her shoulder. “Scoot over.”

She grinned and made room. I sat down but stayed on my knees.

“I go next,” Melanie said.

“I called it first,” Steph countered.

While both of them were locked on each other, I leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. They sputtered in surprise.

“Tay—wait your turn,” Melanie said.

“I've got the bottle, so I guess that makes it my turn.”

Steph lunged forward to steal it, but Jenny blocked her arm. “Go for it, Tay.”

I smiled at Jenny.
Thanks!

Before anyone else could stop me, I spun the bottle. Truthfully, it was more of a point than a spin so that when it stopped, the neck faced Aaron.

His hair gleamed with shades of red and brown as he pushed it off his forehead. He stared at the bottle like he couldn't figure out what it was doing pointing at him.

Steph knew. Her eyes flared at me.

“Go, Aaron,” Michael said. He and Lori had come to watch.

I stood, stumbling over my feet. I ignored the questioning look Aaron shot me. Instead, I stepped into the closet, backed up to the far corner, and waited. A second later, he followed me in. Then someone slid the door shut behind us.

There was no going back now.

I didn't expect it to be so dark. Or so quiet. Or so smelly.

I sank to my butt and wedged myself in the corner. A strip of light leaked in through the bottom of the door, but it was no wider than a piece of dental floss. There was nothing but carpet under my fingers, and the hangers were empty above me. I knew because I'd bumped them with my head. I just didn't know what the smell was from. Hopefully, past loads of dirty laundry and sweaty shoes. And not, say, a dead mouse.

I tried to slow my breath. Inside the closet, it sounded like I'd just run a mile. I couldn't see Aaron; my eyes were still adjusting. But I could tell he'd sat in the opposite corner.

If only I could tell what he was thinking.

Had Tanner started the timer? I rubbed sweaty palms over my jeans. I'd felt pretty brilliant a minute
ago—I'd gotten Aaron in a quiet place and we were alone (except for the potentially dead mouse) and I could say what I wanted to. Only how could I say anything with a clock ticking, a group of kids catcalling, and the vision of hair-flipping Steph outside waiting to shove a knife in my back?

“So what's going on?” Aaron asked. His voice made me jump. My elbow banged the wall.

“Did you forget I was here?” he asked, his voice dry.

Can he see me or just hear me?
I licked my lips. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And what? You lost my number?”

“No, I didn't lose your number.” I felt a spark of anger, which was good. I wasn't coordinated enough to worry and be angry at the same time. “I have two things to say, and then you can go back to the party.”

“Fine. Then say them.”

“Fine,” I snapped in return. “One, I'm sorry. And two, I think it's lame for you to date someone new when you never officially broke up with me.”

There was a long moment of nothingness. Then he said, “Sorry for what?”

So much for a denial that he wasn't dating Steph
. I took a careful breath. “Sorry for everything, I guess.”

“Could you be more specific?”

I controlled the urge to kick him in the leg. “I'm sorry for asking you out on a fake date. I'm sorry for getting mad at the bookstore. I'm sorry for being so stupid
about Lori when you were right the whole time. Is that sorry enough?”

“That probably covers it.”

I strained at the darkness. “You know, you could say you're sorry, too.”

“For what?”

“For walking out of the bookstore. For ignoring me in science. For moving up in band and not even telling me.” I curved my arms around my knees. “For someone who supposedly liked me, you sure got over it fast.”

“Who says I got over it?”

Goose bumps sprung up on my arms. Suddenly, I was glad it was so dark. “You're acting like it with Steph.”

“Did I say we're going out?”

“You didn't deny it just now.”

I heard him shifting on the carpet. “So is that why you grabbed the bottle? So I could break up with you to your face?”

I swallowed. “Why? Do you want to?”

“Do you want me to?”

I rolled my eyes in frustration. “No. I don't,” I said honestly. “But I would like to know why you won't even talk to me.”

“Maybe I didn't feel like competing with Lori.”

“I'm sorry about that, too,” I said. “I didn't mean for it to be like that.” I swallowed again, wishing my throat didn't feel like sandpaper. “And it won't be. Again. I
mean, if there ever is another again.” My face burned with embarrassment. I covered my cheeks with my hands, worried that I might start glowing. “I mean, unless you and Steph … You know …” My words trailed off.

“You mean do I like her?”

“Well, it's obvious she likes you,” I said. “She flips her hair every time you get within two feet.”

My eyes had finally adjusted enough that I could make out the shadow of his smile. “So is that the sign?” he asked. “I know a girl likes me if she flips her hair?”

“Except for me. If I tried to flip my hair, I could maim someone.”

His smile widened. “So how do I know if
you
like me?”

“Jeez, Aaron.” My heart seized up. “When a girl asks a guy to a closet, it's because she likes him.”

His head dipped, and I could see him yanking at a thread of carpet. “Are you just saying all this because you and Lori aren't friends anymore?”