Best. Night. Ever. Read online

  “So I said, ‘Do you have a date for the dance?’ and he shrugged like this.” Mariah shrugs, but she has a huge smile on her face, which I doubt is a good impersonation of Leif, since he rarely wears an actual expression. “And I said, ‘Do you want to go with me?’ and guess what he said?”

  “Yes?” I ask. The obvious answer because she’s already said he’s her date tonight.

  “Nope. He said, ‘Whatever,’ ” she corrects me proudly.

  I throw her a confused look.

  “ ‘Whatever,’ ” she repeats. “That was his answer. Isn’t that the cutest?”

  I’m not sure how long I stand there, staring at her, before finally speaking. “Yeah. The cutest.”

  My words are meant sarcastically, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s never opened up to me about crushes before, so why now?

  Not that I’ve been all that open with Mariah, even though I’ve had a crush on her since we started middle school last year. Before that, I just thought of her as my best friend. We met in second grade, when she moved into the house next to mine. My family relocated across town a few years later, but luckily I didn’t have to change schools, so our friendship stuck. I’ve been scared to tell her I like her, though, for obvious reasons. Namely that she’ll be all weird and our friendship will cease to exist.

  Besides, if she did like me, she wouldn’t have agreed to go to the dance with Leif. (Even though I’d been too chicken to ask her.) She certainly wouldn’t be talking to me about him now.

  I should have just worked up the courage to ask her to the dance.

  These thoughts roll through my head as we arrive at the school office, which is empty. It’s sort of creepy. I’ve only been in here a couple of times, but it’s always full of activity: teachers running around, phones ringing, printers spitting out pieces of paper. Now it’s just . . . quiet.

  “The tape’s back here somewhere,” Mariah says, heading straight for one of the desks. Mariah helps out in the office after school sometimes, so she knows her way around.

  While I’m waiting for her, I have even more time to think. Mariah and Leif. Leif and Tess. I’m pretty sure Leif doesn’t really care that much about girls. Most of my guy friends don’t. They’re into sports and hanging out and getting through the school week so they can shoot hoops or play video games on weekends.

  And now that I know Mariah likes Leif, I want to stop liking her. I just don’t know how to do it.

  As Mariah heads back toward me, tape in hand, the door opens behind me. It hits me in the butt, actually. I spin around to find Claudia from Heart Grenade standing there, her face all red.

  “Have you seen Tess?” she blurts. She sounds out of breath, like she’s been running.

  “Nope,” I say. And I hope, hope, hope she doesn’t mention anything about Leif. Ugh.

  I probably should want Claudia to say something about Tess and Leif; then Mariah will know he’s a jerk for lining up two dates to one dance. But if she finds out that Leif asked someone else, she’ll probably be hurt, and I don’t want to see that.

  Unfortunately, she’s going to find out for herself soon enough . . . probably about ten seconds after Leif arrives. And then maybe she’ll cry on my shoulder.

  “Tell Tess I’m looking for her when you see her,” Claudia says. Then she takes off. I swear, she’s running so fast, she’s probably halfway down the hall before the door finally shuts behind her.

  “Uh . . . no,” Mariah says from behind me. I jump. I didn’t even hear the door between the waiting area and the behind-the-desk area swing open and closed! She hands me the tape, speeds around me, and heads to the door.

  “No what?” I ask, trying to match her pace. Mariah is speed-walking down the hall, and even with my long legs, I have to almost run to keep up with her.

  “No, I won’t tell her anything,” Mariah says. “I don’t talk to Tess. Ever.”

  There it is. The same old rivalry, heating up again.

  “Especially after she took my spot in Heart Grenade!” Mariah continues. I can hear that tremble in her voice that I know means she’s really, really mad.

  I swear, her steps are getting angry now too. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

  “I practiced all summer for that drummer spot,” she seethes. “Plus, I had a play drum set that I loved when I was a kid, remember? I was obviously destined to be a drummer! I totally would have rocked it on that stage!”

  I have to keep my mouth shut because Tess is a real drummer. It’s what she does. Mariah’s brother has a drum set in their basement, so Mariah decided to learn how to play over the summer. She didn’t do it only to beat Tess for the spot in Heart Grenade, but when the opportunity arose to audition, she took it. Except the auditions took place at the beginning of the school year, about a billion days ago at this point. She should be over it.

  I can’t say that to her, though. All I can do is support her by agreeing that Tess is evil. That’s what being a good friend means. Right?

  “You’re an awesome drummer,” I say as I rush to keep up with her. “Heart Grenade would be so much better with you. Someday they’ll realize that.”

  Mariah comes to a complete stop in the hallway, going from sixty to zero in a heartbeat. Luckily I’m a few steps behind, so I have time to slow down without zooming past her.

  “Thanks,” Mariah says.

  She’s looking at me with this sweet, sappy expression on her face. She used to get that look all the time, though lately it seems as if she hardly ever slows down to speak to me. Even when we hang out at my house or walk to our favorite taco place for lunch, she speeds through everything. She knows she does it; sometimes she even asks me to help her slow down. She says that no matter what she’s doing in life, she feels like she has to always hurry to get to the next thing.

  “Thanks?” I ask.

  “You’re a good friend,” Mariah says. “You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  That’s when she hugs me. It’s a friendship hug, not a boyfriend-girlfriend hug. She wouldn’t hug Leif all quick and with her body far away like this. We don’t really hug much anyway. Especially lately.

  Even though we still hang out all the time, things have gotten awkward between us since middle school started. I can’t really explain what it is, except that she sometimes stops talking right before she’s about to say something. And there seems to be this awkward silence sometimes where she quickly averts her gaze when I’m looking at her. I like to tell myself it’s because she likes me too, but I know that’s just wishful thinking.

  Okay, yeah, I’m not stupid. Mariah probably will never like me like that. Especially now that she likes Leif. If I could flip a switch and not like her anymore, I would. Maybe if I know I’ll never, ever have a chance I can try to get over her. Until then, I’m cursed with thinking that everything she does is adorable.

  “Now, let’s get this dance going!” Mariah says, and she’s off again, rushing down the hall while I race to keep up.

  We round the corner and see the absolute last thing I want to see: Leif, looking all Leif-ish. He’s just wearing pants and a sweater, but somehow he makes them look teen boy band–like. I want to puke.

  “He-ey!” Mariah says, stretching the word into two syllables. I’ve never seen Mariah act all flirty and silly like this. It’s weird.

  “Hey,” Leif says, not even coming close to cracking a smile.

  I figure Mariah will stop to talk to him, but she just keeps going. She walks straight up to one of the faculty members who helped plan the dance and starts talking about music. That leaves me standing with Leif, feeling more than a little awkward. I have a cure for that, though.

  “Gotta go,” I say, planning a quick escape.

  “Wait!” Leif says.

  Uh-oh. This can’t be good. I turn and walk back to him, because what else am I going to do? I notice him looking at Mariah with an anxious expression.

  “Have you seen Tess?” Leif asks, shifting th
at anxious gaze toward the door to the school. It’s still early, but a few students are already lingering in the hallway outside the gym doors.

  “Nope,” I say. “I don’t think so. Someone was looking for her a few minutes ago.”

  He sighs. “Could you do me a favor?”

  I know what he’s angling for, and I want to say no. No, I’m not going to help him date two girls at once. Of all the guys at school, Leif is just too laid-back for me. No matter what you ask him, he just shrugs. It’s like talking to a wall. I stand there and wait for him to say what that favor is.

  “Could you keep Tess busy tonight?” he asks.

  I’m surprised he asks me to keep an eye on Tess. He knows Mariah and I are friends; everyone does. Plus, I barely know Tess. Maybe he’s so freaked out that he isn’t thinking clearly.

  “I’m pretty sure she’ll be busy with the band,” I point out.

  “Yeah, but . . .” He looks around, then lowers his voice. “I kind of messed up.”

  “I know,” I say, lowering my voice too. “What are you doing?”

  “Man, I don’t know,” Leif whispers. “Tess asked if I wanted to go to the dance and I said, ‘Whatever.’ Then Mariah asked and . . . well, Mariah’s kind of cute. I know she’s your friend and all, so that’s probably all kinds of cray to you.”

  Great. So he likes Mariah, not Tess. That’s good for her, not so good for me. And I’m a really bad friend for it, but I can’t quite be happy for her.

  “Don’t tell Mariah about Tess, man,” Leif says. “You haven’t already, right?”

  “No.”

  “Cool.” He thinks for a second, then says, “I just have to keep them apart, that’s all. I need you to help keep them busy so they won’t find out I’m here with both of them.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I say. Mostly I just don’t want to see Mariah get hurt. But if keeping Tess busy gives Leif time to hang out with my crush, how can I get behind that?

  “Sorry, I really need to get back to the gym,” I say, moving away from him.

  “See ya, man!” Leif calls as I head back toward the gym entrance. On the way, I see Mariah. She’s somehow speed-changed into her dance outfit, and her dress is a total 180 from the jeans and T-shirt she was wearing earlier. I stare at her for a moment, noticing the way the dress brings out the highlights in her hair. Why does she have to be so amazing in every single way?

  She looks at me and smiles; in that second, my heart does a little jumpity-jump, and I know I’ll do anything she asks if she’ll keep smiling at me like that.

  As I head toward the gym, Mariah’s face lights up and she marches straight to Leif.

  Sighing, I head aimlessly in the opposite direction. I can’t watch this. That’s when I see Tess waiting outside, her back to the door. She already looks prepared to kick butt in those combat boots, and . . .

  Wait.

  At first I’m thinking that her dress looks familiar, but then I realize . . . it’s the same dress Mariah is wearing! I come to a complete stop.

  How am I going to keep Mariah from completely freaking out once she sees Tess has copied her dress and her date?

  JADE { 7:28 P.M. }

  I DO NOT WANT TO be in this lacquer-floored cafe-gym-atorium. I don’t even go to this school. But when you’re totally robbed of a win in the biggest band contest in the whole city, you do what you have to do to make things right.

  Uncle Garrett fiddles with the TV station’s equipment, making sure all the cords are connected and that every lens is clean. He cleans the digital camera next, the one I’m in charge of, and hands it back to me.

  “They want pictures for the station’s social media, right? Is it okay if I go take some as kids come in?” I ask. I’m on photo duty for now, but for my plan to work I need access to the video camera before we go on the air. First things first, though; I have some recon to do, and the entrance is the perfect location to identify band members as they arrive.

  “Sounds good, Jade,” he says. “See if you can get some group shots too.”

  “On it,” I say, heading for the doors. Red and gold streamers hang from the towering ceiling, which makes me wonder if I could have also planned some well-timed water balloon launches tonight. Oh well, can’t think of everything.

  When the teachers pull the gym doors open, it’s like a noise tornado spins through the halls. And every sound echoes off the shiny floors and tile walls. I recognize a couple of the band members from the totally rigged Battle of the Bands (one of their aunts and a family friend were on the committee—SO not fair), but everyone else blends into the Lynnfield Middle crowd. All the colorful pastel dresses whip by me in a blur as I search for Carmen, Heart Grenade’s lead singer. But I don’t see her anywhere. A girl in a leopard-print skirt and a pair of Chucks walks by me; for some reason she looks terrified, but I love her for not caving in to the expected semiformal wear like everyone else.

  I snap some pictures to do the job I’m here for and to make sure my cover isn’t blown. It took a whole lot of convincing to get Uncle Garrett to agree to let me help him with tonight’s show. Something about the station’s insurance coverage and very, very expensive equipment. After two deliveries of chocolate chip cookies (his favorite) and a promise to go shopping for craft supplies with my cousins (like they’re always begging me to do), he finally gave in. It’ll all be worth it to make things right.

  I manage to get kids to stop and pose for pictures by telling them I’m the photographer for the station. People will do anything when they think they’ll be on TV. Some groups squeeze in and wrap their arms around one another with big, happy smiles on their faces, while others insist on doing bunny ears, sticking out their tongues, and doing that disgusting eyelid-flip thing. And plenty of kids walk right by me, talking nonstop about how they can’t wait to see the band play.

  If they get to play, I think to myself.

  I’m pretty sure someone mentions adding something teeth-staining to the punch too, and while I have no intention of reporting them, I do take a quick picture of the possibly guilty group of kids just in case. Plus, dealing with a silly gag might provide a nice distraction for the chaperones while I get things done.

  Now to find my accomplice. He goes to Lynnfield, but he’s agreed to help me, and I need to make sure we’re all set with what has to be done. Unlike my uncle, my accomplice took no convincing at all. All I have to do is put in a good word for him with Uncle Garrett for the summer internship at the TV station. I send a check-in text.

  Hey. It’s Jade. Is everything in place?

  No response. Well, I can’t stand here waiting for him to answer. I’ve got a job to do.

  I head back into the gym and get back to the plan. “Hey, Uncle G, I was thinking that I’d be really great behind one of the video cameras tonight. You know I do it all the time at my AV club.”

  Uncle Garrett gives me a look. The kind that says I need a minute to figure out how to politely tell you there’s not a chance I’ll say yes to that. But I’ve prepared for this.

  “Jade—”

  “Wait, before you answer, just hear me out.” I stand behind camera two, which has no one behind it to shoot close-ups for the show. “You guys are short-staffed because of Chocolate Fest downtown, and as awesome as you are, there is no way one person can operate the close-up camera and the main one at the same time.”

  “Well, that was my plan,” says Uncle Garrett. He looks over at the intern who’s in charge of the sound feed tonight. He’s sitting over in the corner of the gym with all the equipment he’ll use to manage the sound during the band’s performance. And I happen to know Uncle Garrett is more than a little nervous about not having more help for this event.

  I try again. “If you tell me what close-ups you want, I’ll get them for you. All I have to do is zoom in and zoom out. Zoom in, zoom out,” I say again, pressing an imaginary button in the air to get my point across. “It’s a no-brainer, really. Free labor and all.”

  Plus,
I’ll be able to focus the camera on whatever craziness happens onstage tonight.

  But I’m not even sure my uncle is listening. He’s too busy fiddling with wires and adjusting where the cameras are pointed.

  He lets out a deep sigh.

  “You’re already flustered,” I try again. “So let me help. Please?”

  Uncle Garrett wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “It would be nice not to worry about two camera feeds,” he says. “Let me double-check to see if the station is sending anyone else over.” He takes out his phone and heads to the corner where the intern is getting ready. I use the opportunity to check another little piece of the sabotage plan off the list.

  I try to act like I’m happy to be here. I smile politely at random people as I get behind camera one, making sure I put myself right in the way of Uncle Garrett’s view of the equipment. I don’t want to make it malfunction—these things really do cost a fortune—but if I can make my uncle malfunction, well . . .

  I take a little restaurant packet of pepper out of my pocket, tear it open, and sprinkle it on top of the camera. But it doesn’t smell strong enough yet. I pull three more packets out and rip them all at once, checking over my shoulder to make sure I’m in the clear. Uncle Garrett is deep in conversation on his phone, so I’m good.

  My nose starts to wiggle and I sniff at the smell, which grows stronger with every sprinkle. I can’t help letting out a very loud achoo, getting the attention of a group of girls nearby. I put up my hand to let them know I’m fine, although it’s not like anyone bothered to say bless you. Are they a bunch of Neanderthals at this school or what?

  I stuff the empty packets back in my pocket. All set. My uncle can’t have pepper in front of him on the dinner table without sneezing, let alone right near his face. Sorry, Unc, but I need this to work.