Cici Reno #MiddleSchoolMatchmaker Read online

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  I close my Twitter window and slap the laptop shut.

  15

  I didn’t write to Drew at all yesterday or today. He probably thinks I’m mad at him, and in the tiniest of ways, I am. Though I have no right to be. He didn’t do anything wrong. He now knows I’m Aggie and he likes me, “Aggie.” Our plan came off without a hitch. Technically things are going great.

  So why do I feel so awful?

  I’m walking to lunch with Aggie, talking about our American History paper due next week on the French and Indian War. Mr. Lito is letting us work on it in pairs, and we’re trying to figure out when we can get together to write it. Neither of us is paying close attention to where we’re walking and we crash right into Drew. My books go flying out of my hands.

  “Whoa,” I say. “Where’d you come from?” I bend down to collect my stuff. Drew also squats and swoops the rest of my stuff into his arms.

  “Sorry about that. Here you go,” he says, handing me my books.

  “Thanks,” I say. He’s talking to me but his eyes are clearly on Aggie. I glance at her and her cheeks are completely flushed and she’s staring at her feet.

  “Hi, Aggie,” he says.

  “Hey,” she mumbles, still not looking at him.

  Yikes, this is bad. Why didn’t we think that we might run into Drew at school? Well, because there aren’t many eighth graders who come all the way down to the seventh grade hallway, for one. Usually each grade sticks to their end of the school. Drew had to come all the way over here searching for me, I mean, her, us, whoever.

  “Is something wrong?” he asks, giving her a curious look now.

  Which she’d see if she’d just look up at him. I softly give her an elbow in the side.

  “Oh, um, what?” Aggie fumbles. “No, everything’s great. Thanks.”

  Drew looks at me and I grin. Absolutely nothing strange going on here.

  Yeah, right.

  “Uh, okay, then.” He returns his gaze to Aggie and leans in. Softer now he says, “You haven’t written me in a couple of days.”

  “I haven’t?” she asks.

  I clear my throat loudly.

  “I mean, yes, I haven’t. Sorry. I’ll write you tonight,” she adds, looking at me for confirmation.

  She did not just do that. I quickly divert my attention to my history book and start picking at some gummy leftover tape in the corner. Sheesh, Aggie, don’t ask for my permission to write to Drew! That won’t look fishy or anything.

  “Um, cool. Okay, I gotta get to Math,” Drew says slowly. “Later.”

  “Okay, bye then,” Aggie says, looping her arm through mine and yanking me down the hall toward the cafeteria.

  I glance over my shoulder and catch Drew giving us a puzzled look. Ugh. Not good. We’re definitely going to have to work on our routine to avoid this kind of situation again in the future.

  “See? See?” Aggie hisses in my ear as we’re fast-walking through the swarm of students in the hallway. “What did I tell you? I open my mouth and blech comes out. Can you feel my pulse? It’s racing a mile a minute. What did I even say? I’m such a loser.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I tell her. “Honestly, It’s not as bad as you think. I would have prepped you if I thought he’d hunt us down at school.” I check over my shoulder again to see if Drew is still lingering there, but he’s gone. I wonder what he’s thinking right now.

  I don’t wonder for long since there is a message from Drew waiting from me when I get home.

  Are you embarrassed to talk to me in public or something?

  What? No! No way, why would you think that?

  You seemed really uncomfortable when we talked today. Like you wanted me to go away.

  Well, yikes. That’s sorta true. We did want him to go away. But only because we weren’t prepared.

  No, I was just surprised to see you. That’s all. Cici and I had our heads together, talking about the French and Indian War and then you were suddenly there.

  I don’t suppose you remember much about that war from last year’s history class.

  I add in the second message, hoping to change the subject.

  Um, I think it went on for seven years. That’s all I remember.

  Guess we won’t be studying together

  I’m great at Math …

  Is he prompting me? How do I respond to this?

  That’s good.

  Want to study at the library after school sometime this week?

  Um, noooooo. We very much do not want to meet again this week. Aggie needs more prep time before we try this again.

  I can’t. I babysit my little brother.

  Besides, I’m mad at you.

  Mad? Why?

  I’m reading book three in The Last Token series. You didn’t tell me they kill Nylyan the Brave.

  You know how much I love her.

  Ahhh, yeah. I know which part you’re at. Finish reading the book.

  No.

  You’re really not going to finish reading it? Don’t you want to know what happens?

  No, I do not. I’m mad at the book. It’s in Time Out.

  LOL. What are you talking about? You put the book in the corner or something?

  Not in the corner. In my window, in between the screen and the glass. That’s where I put all of my books when I’m mad at them. It happens more often than you think.

  You’re something else. OK, well you can’t be mad at me. I insist you suspend your anger toward me until after you finish reading the book.

  OK, fine. Suspension granted.

  I smile to myself too. This. This is the Drew I love talking to. Now, if we could just manage to keep things going online and avoid any more face-to-faces, all would be good. On my end, anyway.

  16

  It’s Aggie’s turn to serve again, and she nails the volleyball right over the net. No one on the other side gets even close to returning it. She’s got a crazy strong serve. I’ve never even seen her play volleyball before, but she’s definitely a natural.

  I’m sitting in the stands of the school gymnasium, partly watching Aggie try out for the volleyball team and partly trying to organize the notes for our American History paper in my lap. I told her I’d take the lead on the paper since she needs to concentrate on tryouts. She’s a sure shot to make the team. All the other girls look amateur next to her. She must have practiced a ton over the summer. I give my legs a quick stretch in front of me. I haven’t been to Mom’s yoga class in two days and I’m really missing it. And I won’t have time to make it tonight either, since I’m here with Aggie. I had just about mastered a tripod headstand last week and I don’t want to lose my gains. I definitely have to take a class tomorrow.

  I’m jotting a couple of sentences down about the Battle of Jumonville Glen, which is thought to have launched the French and Indian War, when I distinctly get the feeling someone is staring at me. I look at the court, and Aggie is giving me one of those wide-eyed, panicked looks. But why? Is she suddenly freaking out about her tryout? Kind of late, since she’s smack-dab in the middle of it. I glance around the gym, trying to locate what could be setting her off, when I see him. Oh no. How did he know we’d be here?

  Drew is standing in the corner of the gym, watching the tryouts.

  What do I do? Aggie needs to concentrate, not have an anxiety attack. What’s he doing here anyway? Didn’t I tell him I, Sera/Aggie, was busy this week? Drew turns like he’s going to leave and then suddenly stops, spotting me.

  Uh oh.

  He starts climbing the bleacher steps in my direction, and now I’m the one totally panicking. Breathe, breathe. I suck up as much air through my nose as I can and let it out mouth in a huge sigh. Ugh, didn’t help. He’s still marching straight for me. What does he want with me, anyway? Me, Cici? I’m Luke’s little sister. I’m not anyone to him. He can’t possibly have anything to talk about with me. No way he figured out it’s me talking to him online, right? Impossible. Oh man, he’s gonna sit down
next to me. I’m going to hurl.

  “Hey, Cici,” Drew says casually.

  “Hi, Drew,” I squeak out, and then a huge swoosh of air escapes me. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath, which is a huge no-no in yoga. I usually have better control than this.

  He plops down next to me, putting his feet up on the step in front of us. I hug my history notes to my chest for support because I’m feeling slightly swoonish, and wouldn’t that be just my luck to faint here in the school bleachers in front of everyone. While 95 percent of my body is completely flipping out at my current predicament, having Drew Lancaster sitting next to me, wanting to talk to me about who knows what, I’m aware of the 5 percent of me thinking, “Yay! Drew Lancaster is sitting next to me in the school bleachers! How do we look together?”

  “Is it okay if I talk to you?” he asks.

  Really? Is it okay if he talks to me? Here, let my series of cartwheels across this row of bleachers be your answer! Ah, there’s that 5 percent piping up. And with the return of the other 95 percent, I am quickly filled with dread and want to crawl under the bleachers and hide until he goes away.

  “Um, sure,” I force myself to say instead. “What’s up?”

  “Well, this is going to sound weird, but word around school is you’re pretty good at giving advice and stuff. And I just thought maybe you could give me some.”

  Advice? He wants my advice? It’s usually the girls asking me for advice. I’m kinda flattered that the guys must be mentioning me too. Maybe I have a career ahead of me as a psychotherapist? An online advice columnist would work too.

  “Oh yeah. I guess I’m okay with advice-giving. What’s the problem?” I glance at the volleyball court and Aggie has resumed volleyball tryouts. She dives for a ball and manages to return it.

  He hesitates and then turns his face toward me and lowers his voice. “It’s Aggie.” I can feel his breath on my cheek, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I, I can’t figure her out.”

  I’m a bit dizzy from sitting so close to Drew and I can feel my pulse picking up its rate. “Um, what do you mean? Aggie’s Aggie.”

  Drew scoots a little closer and checks the court for Aggie. His thigh accidentally bumps mine, and I jump. “Sorry,” he says.

  “Oh, what? No, no biggie.” I try to recover. Does he notice how flushed I am? Ugh, I hope not.

  “She’s sort of sending me mixed signals,” he continues. “Like, she’s really great online when we’re chatting. We talk about so much. She’s cool.”

  I curl my toes in my gym shoes. Awww! He thinks I’m cool! I can’t help it, a smile creeps across my face.

  “But in person? She acts sort of strange. Like she doesn’t know me. Or doesn’t like me. I don’t know,” he adds quickly, shaking his head. Drew’s backpack is leaning against his knees and he’s twirling one of the straps around and around his finger. He must be nervous too.

  “Oh no,” I say hurriedly. “I’m sure that’s not it at all. Aggie can just be … shy sometimes. That’s it.”

  “She won’t talk to me on the phone or text or anything,” he continues.

  “Her mom won’t let her text boys,” I say, recalling what Aggie told me she had said to Drew the day of the movie date.

  “Yeah, she mentioned that. But this sounds crazy, I know, it’s just, it feels like she doesn’t want to see me. At all. Like, she avoids me if I run into her at school. She won’t meet me to hang out or anything outside of school. She’ll only talk to me on Twitter. It’s like, she only likes me when she doesn’t have to look at me. I just don’t get it.” His voice cracks with this last statement. I can hear some hurt there, and it about kills me.

  This isn’t good. I don’t want Drew thinking I/she/we don’t like him. Just the opposite! I glimpse Aggie on the court and she’s giving me a puzzled look. We have to fix this. I know she may not feel completely ready, but she needs to go on another date with Drew or he’s going to know something is up.

  “You know what?” I say to Drew. “Ask her out again. Online when you’re talking,” I quickly add, suddenly fearing he’ll march down to the court and ask Aggie out right now and completely wreck her tryout. “Aggie can be super-shy, but I’m sure she’s warming up. She definitely likes you. She’ll go out with you for sure.”

  “Really?” he gives me a hesitant crooked smile and my heart melts. He looks so unsure of himself right now, and I just want to give him a big hug.

  “Definitely.”

  Drew stands up, looking much happier than he did a few moments ago. “Thanks for the talk, Cici. It helped,” he says with a nod.

  “Sure,” I say and watch him bound down the bleacher steps and out the gym door.

  Okay, this is it. Aggie needs to talk, really talk to Drew. And in person.

  17

  We’re sitting on Aggie’s bed with our backpacks in between us. Aggie’s mom invited me over for dinner, and since Mom is still teaching classes, she said that was fine.

  “So when are you going to tell me what the scene with Drew was about?” she asks.

  “You were so, so good at tryouts today. I think they should make you captain. Your serves were amazing.”

  “Yeah …” she says.

  “And that color purple looks really good on you. Totally brings out your eyes,” I add.

  “You’re stalling, Cici …” she starts.

  “You’re so pretty, Aggie. And so nice. And such a great friend. And—”

  “Cici …” she warns. “Tell me what you and Drew were talking about at tryouts. No more flattering. Is it bad?”

  I force a laugh. “Of course it’s not something bad. It’s actually great.”

  I get off the bed and walk over to her closet. I push tops to the left, looking them each over.

  “Really? What?” she asks.

  I yank a sparkly emerald green top from her closet and hold it up to myself. “Is this new? It’s adorable.”

  “Cici!” Aggie snaps.

  “Okay, okay,” I say. I rehang the shirt in her closet and fall cross-legged onto her beanbag chair printed with pink owls. “He did want to talk to me about you. He thinks you’re acting weird.”

  “He does? I knew it,” she says, shaking her head. “He thinks I’m a freak.”

  “No, he doesn’t think that. It’s just, you act like you don’t want to talk to him whenever he sees you.”

  “I get flustered,” she answers quickly.

  “Yeah, I know, I told him that. I said you’re just shy.”

  “I don’t even know what to say to him when he comes up to me. I have no connection with him, Cici. You do,” she says.

  “Try to act natural. Make a connection. He thinks you don’t like him. He sounded really hurt,” I tell her, feeling the pain in my heart return.

  “Ah geez,” Aggie says, twisting her lips. “I don’t want to hurt him. We should have never started talking to him. I told you I wasn’t ready.”

  “I know, but we were already in too far to turn back at that point. And besides, he really likes you. And I know how we can fix this,” I add.

  “How?” she asks.

  “Go out with him on another date.”

  “Oh no,” she says, “I’ll just screw up again.”

  “You just have to really talk to him, face-to-face, without distractions. And you wouldn’t have to meet him in private, Ag. What about a public place? Somewhere you’re comfortable? Like Mama Rosa’s Pizzeria?” I suggest. Mama Rosa’s is in the same strip mall as Beanies and Peony Lane. There’s a small dining room in the front of the restaurant if you want to sit down to eat, and a counter for people getting takeout. Aggie and I have been going there for years. I can see her thinking it over.

  “You think I can do it?” she finally asks.

  “I really do,” I quickly tell her. “I’ll even be there with you. Hiding, though, of course. If you get stuck you can just ask me whatever it is. I won’t let you mess up, I promise.”

  She lets o
ut a heavy sigh. “Okay, let’s set it up.”

  After dinner Mrs. Miller gave me a ride home. Mom wasn’t home from the studio yet, and Luke and Dad were plopped in front of the TV, eating sub sandwiches and watching a baseball game.

  “Hungry, Cici?” Dad asks, holding out a sandwich to me.

  “No thanks, Dad. I ate with Aggie’s family.”

  Luke tears his eyes away from the screen to glance at me. “Yeah, Drew said he talked to you today at school.”

  I feel my back stiffen. He told my brother?

  His eyes drift back to the TV screen. “He likes Aggie, I guess. Don’t know why he’s bothering with a seventh grader though.”

  “Drew’s in love? Are they going to go steady? Will she wear his varsity sweater?” Dad teases.

  “What? No,” I quickly reply. “They’re not in love. Well, I mean, they’re just talking.”

  Luke starts cracking up. “What are you even talking about, Dad? No one wears varsity sweaters.”

  “You got any other friends for Luke, Cici? I think your brother is feeling jealous and wants a girlfriend of his own,” Dad says.

  “No, I don’t,” Luke says, playfully swiping at Dad’s shoulder. “Especially not any of Cici’s friends.”

  “None of my friends would ever like you anyway, you big bubble butt,” I tell Luke. I head for my bedroom, wanting to get away from Dad and Luke and this whole conversation.

  “This butt is all muscle, I’ll have you know,” Luke calls after me, and Dad is laughing hysterically.

  “Yeah, so is your head,” I yell back as I slam my bedroom door. Dad and Luke always act like kids whenever Mom isn’t around. It’s so annoying.