Cici Reno #MiddleSchoolMatchmaker Page 4

  “Hello, dear,” Peg says, walking toward me in the back of the room, with Claire two steps behind her. “Mind if we join you?”

  “Of course I don’t mind.”

  “Did you have a good day at school?” Claire asks. “Are they still serving that gross rectangular pizza?” She rolls her mat out next to mine and then does some shoulder rolls and neck rolls.

  “Ugh, yes! It tastes like cardboard,” I reply. “But otherwise school’s good. The teachers haven’t really started giving out too much homework yet.”

  “Eh, I always hated homework,” Peg says, kicking off her shoes and setting them in her gym bag. “I always wanted to be outside, running around after school. Not cramped up in the house studying.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I agree.

  “How are things with the BFF? I bet you two are glad to be together again,” Claire says.

  “Yeah, we are,” I tell her. “Things are a little different this year. I mean, Aggie’s changed some. But yeah, I’m glad she’s home.”

  “How’s she changed?” Claire asks.

  I try to think of how to describe Aggie’s situation without being crude. “Umm, well, Aggie sorta blossomed this summer.”

  “Are they getting in her way when she’s running or something?” Peg asks. She pulls on her matching green terry cloth wristbands and headband. She wears them at every class.

  “Um, no, I don’t know. I suppose they could be. I don’t have them so I can’t relate. But the problem isn’t with her, it’s with everyone else. People are being kinda jerky to her.”

  “Ah, yeah. I know how that is. My daughter, Gwen, developed early too. I remember those days,” Peg says. She pulls off her socks and her toenails are pink glitter, which is so Peg.

  “I wish there was something I could do to make her feel better,” I say. “Or get everyone off her back. She seems so uncomfortable.”

  “Be her friend,” Peg says. “Support her. Boys are teasing her because they’re awkward and immature. Girls are mean because they’re jealous. Kids are going tease no matter what you do. If you’re too tall, too small, too fat, too skinny. It’s unfortunate, but it’s been happening forever.”

  “People stink,” I reply.

  “That’s true,” Claire pipes in. “But not all of them and not all of the time. And Peg’s right. Soon enough the rest of the girls in your class will be developing and Aggie won’t be such a novelty. You’ll see.”

  I nod, feeling a bit better.

  Mom walks in and instructs us to get into an easy seated position for our opening mantra.

  Class ends and I can see through the window into the lobby where Luke and Drew are sitting on the couch, doing homework.

  “Cici, tell the boys I’ll be five more minutes,” Mom says. “Just got to straighten up.”

  “Sure.” I’m glad to have an official job to do, a reason to talk to Drew.

  I head out of class and want to run up to Drew and tell him that I checked out the book he suggested from the school library today, The Last Token. But then I remember that I’m me, Cici, and not the girl he met on Twitter. I’ll have to wait until later at home to tell him. Instead I say what I’m supposed to say. “Mom said she’ll be out in five minutes, then she can give Drew a ride home.”

  Luke grunts his response, not bothering to look up.

  But not Drew. “Thanks,” he says kindly.

  “Sure,” I reply, holding his gaze.

  Drew doesn’t act like he thinks I’m a pest or Luke’s bratty little sister. He seems so cool. He’ll make a great boyfriend for Aggie. Really great.

  8

  There’s a knock at my bedroom door and Aggie peeks her head in.

  “Get in here,” I say.

  Aggie rushes into the room, flinging her backpack onto the floor. She grabs my flower-covered soft-top trunk from the foot of my bed and drags it over to my desk to use as a seat. “I’m so excited!” she says as she plops down on it. “Do you think he’s online now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. We dropped him off at home a little while ago.”

  Her eyes widen. “You saw him?”

  I nod.

  “Lucky!”

  “I was thinking,” I start, “let’s send out some random tweets so this SeraFrosted account doesn’t look completely lame. I type:

  Sera Froste @SeraFrosted • 3m

  The Drips are coming to town on tour this summer. #wannago #thedrips #gottagetthere

  Sera Froste @SeraFrosted • 2m

  Up way too late reading #TheLastToken last night. #amreading #tired

  Sera Froste @SeraFrosted • 4s

  My math homework is impossible tonight! #ugh #deathbyalegbra

  Aggie screws up her face. “But I don’t like reading. And our math homework was super easy today. I do want to see the Drips though,” she adds. “Maybe we can get one of our moms to take us?”

  “Oh, it’s just something to tweet,” I say, bypassing the Drips comment for the moment. Though that’s a great idea. I’ll have to mention it to Mom later. “It doesn’t have to be relevant.”

  As I’m trying to think of something else clever to tweet I see my DM notice pop up. Ah! Is it Drew? I click it open.

  Hey. Are you online now?

  “Ack! It’s him,” Aggie says to me.

  Hey.

  Do you have time to chat?

  I glance at Aggie. “Well, do we?” I tease.

  Aggie wraps her arms around herself tightly. “Yes. Tell him yes.”

  Sure

  So …

  I place my fingers on the keyboard, ready to type, and turn to Aggie. “Okay, what do you think we should say?”

  She shoots me a panicked look. “I don’t know! You said you’d help me!”

  “And I will,” I assure her. “But what is something you might want to know about him?”

  Aggie picks up a piece of paper off my desk and begins twisting it back and forth in her hands. Luckily it’s not homework. “Um …” she hesitates, “ask him what he likes to do for fun.”

  I type in her question, and we wait.

  What do you like to do for fun?

  “Why am I so nervous?” Aggie asks me, as she continues to choke the life out of my paper.

  All kinds of stuff

  Aggie wrinkles her nose. “Well, that’s vague.” She drops the paper back on the desk and begins to chew on her left thumbnail. “Ask him if he likes to cook.”

  Do you like to cook?

  No, but I like to eat.

  I giggle but Aggie looks frustrated.

  She sighs. “I don’t know what else to talk about, Cici. I’m terrible at this.”

  “Let’s ask him something about sports,” I say.

  Your Twitter bio says you play hockey. What’s your favorite position?

  Right wing

  Cool

  Do you play any sports?

  I’m about to write “no, just yoga” when Aggie bolts upright in her seat and says, “Tell him I’m trying out for volleyball.”

  I cock one eyebrow at her. “You are? When did this happen?”

  “I’ll tell you in a sec. Just tell him,” she urges me.

  I’ve decided to try out for the volleyball team.

  Nice!

  Shoot. Gotta go. Mom calling.

  OK

  And he’s gone. I turn to Aggie and grin.

  She looks a little pale, like she might be sick.

  “You okay?”

  She exhales loudly. “I feel like I was holding my breath the whole time.”

  I giggle. “It’s okay. It was just a chat, Ag. He doesn’t even know who we are.”

  “I know, I know. I’m fine,” she promises. “I was just really nervous.”

  “It’ll get easier,” I say encouragingly. “Hey, what was that stuff about volleyball?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her face lights up. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m going to try out for the volleyball team this year.”

  “Wow.”
>
  She nods. “I played a lot this summer. My stepmom taught me. She played volleyball in college, so we spent a lot of time playing it at the beach. She’s really nice. And she said I’m pretty good.” Aggie shrugs but she can’t hide her smile. “Mom, of course, is against it,” she continues, the smile fading.

  “Why would your mom care if you join volleyball?” I ask.

  “She gave me a hard time when I brought it up. ‘Is this like the time I bought you a viola and you quit orchestra after three weeks? Or when you begged for tennis lessons but would never practice because it hurt your arm?’” she says, mimicking her mom.

  “That stuff was a long time ago. My mom would love me to join more school stuff. Did you tell her you’re good at it?”

  “Mmm, not exactly,” Aggie says. “I didn’t want to talk about what a great time I had with my stepmom. Like it would be rubbing it in or something.”

  “Doesn’t she want you to get along with your stepmom?”

  “Yeah, of course. I think. I don’t know.” Aggie shakes her head and I can tell she doesn’t want to keep talking about it.

  “Well, I think it’s a fab idea!” I tell her. “And I’ll come to all of your games and cheer.”

  Aggie perks up. “Really? Thanks, Cici!”

  “Of course. What are best friends for?”

  Aggie gets to her feet. “I’ve really got to get home.”

  “Want my mom to drive you?” I ask.

  “Nah, I rode my bike.” Aggie reaches for the bedroom door and hesitates. “Drew seems cool, doesn’t he?”

  “Totally,” I reply.

  “And he’s so cute. Don’t you think he’s cute?” she asks.

  “Sure, he’s nice-looking,” I reply.

  “Nice-looking? Are the Hemsworth brothers nice-looking?”

  “Man, you’ve got it bad.” Not that I don’t agree. But I can’t tell her that. “He’s perfect for you, Aggie,” I say, trying to convince myself and her at the same time.

  “Really?” she says, sounding relieved. “I’m so happy to hear you say that. I mean, I’ve always liked him from a distance, but I didn’t know if our personalities would really match up. But I trust you, so if you think we’re perfect together, then I’m sure we are.”

  She trusts me. Why do I suddenly feel guilty? “Definitely.”

  “What about you?” Aggie asks. “You haven’t talked about any crushes in a long time.”

  “Yeah, um, I guess there isn’t a real ‘Drew’ for me right now. I don’t know. Maybe someone will catch my eye,” I say.

  “Someone totally will, no doubt. And then I can help you get him.”

  Yeah, I don’t see that happening. Hey, really hot boy, stop staring at beautiful me and take a gander at my friend over here with the good personality. No, thanks. But I say “Sure” anyway.

  She flashes me a smile. “Now I really have to go. See you tomorrow.”

  After dinner, I go to my room and check the SeraFrosted account again. There’s a message waiting.

  Are you still there?

  Before I can even think about it I reply:

  Yes!

  So do you go to Wright?

  I had craftily followed a bunch of people from school that Drew follows so he’d think I was just someone from school rather than some random weirdo Internet girl.

  Yeah.

  It’s safe. He’ll never figure out who I am. I’m just one of over five hundred students.

  Have we met?

  Hmm. I can’t exactly answer that. I type back:

  ????

  I see you read The Last Token. Did you like?

  I LOVED! You’ve got to tell me, does Driappi Bracegirdle find Doryan of Erebor?

  Ahhh, I can’t say. You’re going to have to read the second book.

  Second book? A girl’s gotta sleep you know.

  Get it this weekend.

  OK, I will. I loved, loved, loved Nylyan the Brave. She’s just like me.

  Part Elf?

  Haha, yeah.

  I’m not gonna lie, this is kinda fun. Talking to Drew, pretending to be someone else. On here, he has no idea what I look like or who I am except for what I tell him. Not that who I am exactly matters anyway since I’m doing this all for Aggie. But we do have some stuff in common. He loves to read, and I love to read. I make a mental note to fill Aggie in on that part of the conversation when I call her later.

  We write back and forth for another ten minutes until my dad appears in my doorway. “Done with your homework?” he asks.

  I minimize my browser window. “Just about.”

  “Finish up and bring it out to the living room so I can double-check it,” he says.

  “Okay, Dad.” Once he leaves I type to Drew:

  Hey, I’ve gotta go. I’ll pick up book two, promise.

  DM w/me tomorrow?

  I can feel myself blushing even though no one else is in the room with me to see it. He likes me. I mean, Aggie. Me, being Aggie. At least enough to want to keep talking to me.

  Definitely. Talk to you tomorrow.

  9

  I’m not going lie, I’ve been looking forward to getting home and chatting with Drew all day today. A small part of me says that I shouldn’t be, but I just push that part way down inside.

  I check my direct messages and there’s one waiting for me.

  23.

  Hmm. I type back:

  23 what?

  Drew writes back immediately.

  Oh good, I was hoping you’d be online now.

  What about 23?

  23 is the number of times I listened to The Stall song you told me I had to hear. And … didn’t hear a thing. Nothing unusual.

  I giggle. The Stall is my all-time favorite band. I have pictures of them up all over my room. The other night I was telling Drew that during their song, Frozen Tunnel, if you listen really closely you can hear a low gravelly voice speaking over the guitar solo. The lead singer claimed in a magazine interview that they didn’t lay any vocals over that part and that it was a mystery how it got on there. Like a ghost or something.

  Maybe you’re just not tuned into the spiritual world.

  And you are? See any dead people now?

  LOL, no. Maybe I’m just more open. Or have better hearing than you do anyway.

  I do have a vampire gnome statue on my bookshelf.

  Um, why???

  Joke present from a friend. What, you have no strange belongings?

  I settle back onto my pillow with my laptop on my knees.

  Yeah, I guess I do.

  Spill.

  Um, I have a lampshade made from broken hockey sticks.

  Really?!

  Yeah. I have a mom who spends too much time on Pinterest. And doesn’t like to throw things away.

  It sounds kinda awesome.

  Well, save up your deflated volleyballs and I’ll have my mom make you a loveseat.

  That would be amazing.

  You’re weird.

  Thanks. Hey, have you read The 39 Clues series?

  Yeah, all of them.

  Wow, really? There are like, eleven. I’m only up to the sixth. Then I paused to start The Last Token.

  I spent a lot of time at the public library this summer. My parents worked all day every day, and it was boring to just sit at home alone. So I hung out there. And read. Except when I had hockey practice of course.

  Oh. Suddenly I feel a minor ache in my chest. Drew was alone all summer? Did Luke know? We should have had him over more. He didn’t have to be on his own. I don’t know what to say so I just type:

  Wow.

  It was fine, I love to read. Did you get the second Last Token book?

  I did! Picked it up on the way home. I was reading it right before we started chatting.

  Oh, did you want me to let you go read?

  I didn’t say that.

  I can feel my own face grinning so hard, my cheeks feel like they might pop. Neither of us types anything for a few moments.
>
  Do you know what I look like?

  Uh-oh. He’s fishing for information. Does he know I know him in real life? I have to think of a clever reply that doesn’t give too much away.

  Well, I can see your profile pic.

  There. Truthful and doesn’t give anything away.

  Ah. You’re right. That would be me. But that’s not fair. Your profile pic isn’t you. Unless you’re anime.

  In fact I am. My mother was a Powerpuff girl I and my father is part Pokémon.

  Really …

  Yep!

  So would we look cute together? In person.

  Ugh. Drew! I know what he’s trying to do, what he’s hinting at. At least I think I do. He’s trying to move us offline. Only I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to just turn him over to Aggie and end our Twittership. Not yet.

  Um, I descend from a Powerpuff girl. ADORABLE! Of course we would be.

  LOL! You’re funny. Fine, I’ll go on believing you have eyes larger than grapefruit. For now …