Pink & Green is the New Black (18 page)

We have to find a way to make going without dates seem cooler and more fun.

There has to be a way. I just have to figure out what it is.

I've had so many missions this year: completing the green cafeteria work, making sure this was the perfect last semester, doing all that I could to make the AGE girls feel included and happy, helping Zoe with Gavin, even helping Erica with Elias. Maybe it shows a lack of focus to change missions so many times. The thing is, it takes time to find the right one.
It takes time to realize which one is most important. But at least I discovered it before it was too late.

I don't want anyone to have negative feelings about our Masquerade.

I hang up with Sunny and realize that I need to have a meeting with Erica and Zoe right away. I know what it'll take to convince them: it needs to seem official, secretive, and exclusive.

I call the spa and Penelope answers.

“Hi, Lucy!” Penelope says when she realizes it's me. “Getting excited for your event?”

“We need to have another meeting at the spa,” I tell her. “It needs to feel fancy and important.”

“I can do that, of course—but what's this all about?”

“I don't think it's fair if some people have dates and some don't, and there's no way everyone who wants to have a date will have one. So I want to convince Erica and Zoe, who are basically in charge of everything, that we should encourage everyone to go with their friends. No official dates.”

“I see,” Penelope says.

“But if we tell them at the spa, with fancy lemonade and tea sandwiches and make Erica feel really important, there's more of a chance that she'll go along with it.”

“Okay.” Penelope pauses, and I hear typing in the background. “I know just what to do.”

At lunch the next day, the AGE girls are obsessing about not having dates, and I know I've made the right decision.

“Dates aren't that big of a deal,” I say, just to see what Erica's reaction will be. I'm not sure when it started, but Erica and Zoe sit at our table every day now. If you had asked me in fifth grade if Erica Crane and I would ever share a lunch table, I would have said absolutely not. But here we are.

“Lucy, yes they are!” Erica says. “I mean, if you don't have one, you're not going to die or anything, but it's better to have a date.”

I respond, “I'm not sure about that.”

Erica glares at me after that, and I go back to my turkey sandwich. I don't want to get into a huge argument about it. Not yet.

“Guys,” Erica leans in to the table and tries to get everyone's attention. “Lucy's just bitter because she and Yamir broke up.”

“Erica!” I exclaim. She's going to say more. She's going to say I lied to impress them, and that Yamir was never really my boyfriend. Everything she's threatened to do.

She stops talking, but I worry there's more to come.

“So you're still going through with this plan,” Sunny whispers to me as we leave lunch.

“I am. I mean, did you see how the AGE girls seemed today? They're all worked up about it. It's not fair. And it's not only them.”

“I think you're right,” Sunny says. “But I don't know if it will work out. That's all I'm saying. You can't save the whole world, you know.”

“You'll get the e-mail after school. Penelope is making it look all nice and fancy. Just wait.”

“Whatever you say, Lucy.” Sunny rolls her eyes at me. “And by the way, Yamir keeps asking me if you have a date. Just figured I'd let you know that.”

“He does?” My heart flips over like a pancake.

“Yup.”

As happy as that makes me, I have to push it out of my head. I told Travis I'd give him a chance. I want to give him a chance. And I'm trying to veto dates anyway. What difference does it make that Yamir wants to know? He didn't behave like a boyfriend, so he can't be my boyfriend. That's just the way it is.

Lucy's tip for surviving eighth grade:

Sometimes fancy is better.

As soon as Erica gets
the e-mail, she sends me a text:

Fanciest e-mail I've ever gotten. Z & I will be there.

I knew it would work. Erica can't resist fancy stuff. Penelope set it up to look like an invitation to a black-tie party. And she mentioned the artisan finger sandwiches and sparkling lemonade we'll be having.

When Penelope tells her that it's actually much more sophisticated to go with your friends and not be paired up, Erica will totally believe it. Penelope used to live in Manhattan, and she wears fancy shoes. She's pretty much Erica's idol.

I'm over at Travis's house, and we're playing some video
game where you need to squash all these killer tomatoes. It's pretty tame as far as video games go, but I'm not really feeling it.

“So, what did you decide about the costume?” Travis asks me, taking a sugar cookie off the platter his mom set up for us.

“I don't think we should go all matchy-matchy,” I say, putting down the controller. He beat me three games in a row. “It's just a little cheesy. And not everyone's gonna match with someone. So let's just do our own thing.”

He puts his feet up on the ottoman. The bottom of his socks are almost black, even though he has the cleanest house I've ever seen. “Okay, cool.”

I can't tell if he really cares. Ever since I said I'd give things a chance, he doesn't seem to care as much about me. I wonder if that's how life works. You try so hard to get someone to like you. And then when they do like you, you don't really care anymore. It's kind of depressing.

“I'm gonna go shoot hoops. Wanna come?”

Maybe I should remind him that it's February in Connecticut and it's freezing outside. Truthfully I don't care if he goes to play basketball, but I don't want to sit in the freezing cold.

“It's kind of cold out, isn't it?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He looks at me and shrugs. “Well, we'll bundle up.”

So Travis puts on a hooded sweatshirt and his coat, and I put my coat on too, and we go out front, and he shoots hoops and I sit on the wooden rocking chair on his front porch.

I'm not sure if I've ever been so bored or so freezing in my whole life. I'm not sure it's possible for Travis's personality to change so drastically so fast, but something seems wrong. Maybe he's bored with me. Or he can tell that I'm bored with him.

I text Sunny that I'm at his house and bored, and we start texting back and forth about other random stuff. I feel guilty about this, but the whole time I'm sitting here, I keep wishing that I was watching Yamir shoot hoops instead of Travis. And I keep wishing that Sunny would mention something else about Yamir. It's terrible.

But she doesn't. Travis keeps playing until I say, “I think I have to go. It's getting kinda late.”

He shoots the ball another time, and when it bounces off the backboard and rolls away, he doesn't rush to get it.

“Oh, okay. Cool.”

He comes over to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I had some good shots, didn't I?”

“Yeah.” I force a smile. “Definitely.”

We go back inside, and I wait for Grandma to pick me up. Gavin's on the couch in the den, watching some sports show
and throwing popcorn into his mouth. Their mom is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove.

The longer I stay here, the more I get the feeling that Travis and I just don't have a lot to say to each other. We have pretty much nothing in common, I guess. And that makes our time together really boring. Almost in a painful way. Yamir may be thoughtless, but our time together is never boring.

Finally Grandma comes and I say good-bye, and yell out, “Bye, Mrs. Landes.” She turns away from the stove and waves but doesn't say anything. She's cold and a little sad looking. I guess she really misses Chicago.

“Did you have a nice time?” Grandma asks me as soon as my seat belt is buckled.

I nod. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

I shrug and try to figure out how to explain. I don't know what it is, but I get the feeling that Grandma will have an interesting perspective on this.

“Do you think polite people can just be really boring when you get to know them?” I ask.

“Perhaps. It's still good to be polite, though.”

“I know.” I change the radio station to something quieter. It's a little strange that Grandma was listening to such loud music. “It's just . . . I think Travis is kind of boring. He seemed
all nice and sensitive and stuff at first. And now he's sort of just a regular boy. Nothing special.”

“I see,” Grandma says, looking at me for a second and then back at the road in front of her. “Well, that's why you're not marrying these boys. You have time to find someone who's just the right amount of boring.”

“You mean everyone's boring?” My face crumples. What a depressing thought.

“In their own way. You'll see. It's not always a bad thing.”

I usually believe Grandma, since she's old and wise and she's been through so much. But right now I don't want to believe her. I
can't
believe her. Yamir's not boring, and maybe in eighth grade that's really all that matters.

Lucy's tip for surviving eighth grade:

Do for others.

All throughout school the
next day, Erica keeps bringing up the fancy meeting. That's what she calls it. “I can't wait for the fancy meeting, Lucy,” she says after math. “Penelope is so cool to schedule such a fancy meeting,” she says before lunch.

I keep shushing her, because I don't want the AGE girls to hear and feel left out. I mean, they haven't been that involved in the planning for the Masquerade, but still. It's not nice to keep talking about something in front of other people when you know they're not included. It's purposefully mean, even.

“Okay, okay, Lucy.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Calm down.”

She should not be telling me to calm down, when we're talking about my meeting and she's the one who's overexcited, but I let it go. I need her on my side. Meanwhile, the AGE girls are still stressing about the date situation. Eve thinks she's
going to bring this boy from Madison who went to camp with her, and I tell her that's crazy. It's not that big of a deal to have a date.

“Not everyone feels that way,” she tells me over and over again.

Mrs. Deleccio finds me after lunch, even though I've been trying to avoid her.

“I'm so sorry. I dropped the ball on the composting,” I admit. “I've just been so busy.”

“It's okay, Lucy.” She smiles like it really is okay, but I still feel guilty. I tell her I'm going to try to work on it. Maybe after the Masquerade is over.

“We appreciate all your hard work,” she says, and gently pats my arm.

I should never have suggested it.

Finally the end of the day rolls around, and it's almost time for our meeting. Sunny and I get there first. Penelope has rearranged her whole office so there's a table for food and another table for drinks and a small circle of chairs to the side.

“How does it look?” she asks us.

“Perfect,” I tell her.

There are finger sandwiches, fruit kabobs, and mini quiches on the food table. The drinks table is overflowing with
mini bottles of sparkling water, a pitcher of bubbly pink lemonade, and a fancy water jug with strawberries and pineapple in it.

Erica and Zoe arrive a few minutes later. Erica's wearing a chunky gray sweater dress with red tights and shiny black ballet flats. She looks like she's going to the opera. Zoe's just wearing jeans, but her fancy designer ones with a tiny little hole above the right knee. And she has on a cream cashmere sweater that hits at the perfect spot on her hips.

“You guys look great,” Penelope says. “Please get some food and drink and come sit.”

“This is like a wedding!” Erica exclaims. “Mini quiche? Amazing!”