Reel Life Starring Us Page 18

  Molly says, “Maybe we should ask her to hang out tonight? She could tell us about the Ross thing. We can convince her to give him a chance.”

  “You’re such a gossip, and an obvious one,” Kendall says.

  “So?” Molly looks at me like she thinks I’m going to agree with her. “Do you have her number, Chelsea? You must—you’re working on the project together.” Molly smiles and keeps chewing on the end of her straw. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Like a new girl in the group. Not forever. Just for now. And I think Ross really does like her—maybe she just needs to be convinced by us a little that she should give him a chance.”

  She has that sneaky grin in her eyes, and I worry that I still can’t trust her. I could never trust Molly. She has that sweet, innocent face, but her way of telling the truth can sound so mean.

  “I’ll call Dina,” I say, relieved that I have an excuse to hear about the solution she’s come up with. “But I don’t know why in the world she’d want to hang out with you guys. You didn’t even apologize for posting that terrible video.”

  “We’ll say we’re sorry tonight. But make sure she knows she’s not sleeping over,” Molly says. “That’d be too much. We don’t know her well enough for that. Just invite her over for dinner and to hang out.”

  “Fine.” I get up from the table and walk around the Starbucks a little. I don’t want them overhearing my conversation.

  Dina’s cell phone rings three times and then goes straight to voice mail. I leave her a message to call me back because I’m dying to hear about her idea, and I also add that I’m wondering what she’s up to tonight.

  In a way I feel like a fairy godmother, since she’s been wanting to hang out with me and my friends so badly. I wish I had been doing it all along.

  Video tip: Never have your subject look directly

  at the camera unless he or she is specifically

  addressing the audience.

  I get out of the shower and see that I have a missed call. From Chelsea, of all people. She says she wants to hear about my solution for the project, but she also wants to know what I’m up to tonight.

  Is this some kind of joke—something like the video of me falling again? A prank? Maybe Ross is mad about the way things ended before and he wants to play a trick on me.

  I’m so paranoid for even thinking these things.

  I get dressed, mostly because I want to stall calling her back. Once my hair is dry, I decide to just take the plunge and make the call.

  “Hello?” she answers on the third ring.

  There’s noise in the background. She must be out somewhere.

  “Hi, it’s Dina,” I say.

  “Do you have plans tonight?” she asks.

  I almost say no without even thinking about it because I’m so used to not having plans. But then I remember that I actually do have plans—with the Acceptables.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Oh. Kendall, Molly, and I were wondering what you were up to,” she says, and it sounds kind of like she’s about to burst out laughing. “Well, what are you doing? I mean, maybe you can come hang out for, like, a little while.” I hear voices in the background. It must be Kendall and Molly. They were talking about me? “By the way, they’re sorry about the video.”

  The number of nights I wished for something like this to happen is too sad to mention. Like, every night before I went to bed. And now it’s happening, and it feels off somehow. And I already have plans.

  Things like this make me question my faith in the universe. I just don’t get it. Why couldn’t they have invited me over weeks ago, when I really needed them? Why couldn’t they have invited me to the movies?

  Why now? What changed?

  “Oh, I’m actually going over to Maura’s,” I say and it feels sort of like being invited to meet the president but declining the invitation because you have to hang out with your cousin. And a cousin you don’t even really like that much. But then I realize I’m excited to go to Maura’s. She’s not a cousin—she’s a friend. I’ve been looking forward to it. I would much rather be with Maura and the Acceptables, who like me, than these girls.

  Chelsea doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “So come before. When are you going over there?”

  It seems like she’s trying too hard. If I go over there, I’ll probably get a bucket of water dumped on my head when I walk through the door. Or maybe I just watch too much television.

  “Thanks, Chelsea, but I have plans,” I say. “Have fun, though. I’ll see you in school.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Oh, and Dina?” She’s almost whispering now, and it seems quieter in the background, like she moved away from where she was before.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. Like, for being horrible pretty much the whole time we’ve been working together.” She clears her throat.

  “Okay.”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “I guess,” I say. “You weren’t that horrible.” I laugh. “Well, you were just a little horrible.”

  Yeah, she told me we weren’t friends. Yeah, she didn’t stand up for me when her friends posted that video. But it’s not like she threw food at me or embarrassed me in class. Or pulled my pants down in front of everyone. There are way worse things. “But forget about that for now!” I’m not sure how this conversation went on this long and we didn’t discuss Ross’s idea for the project. “I need to tell you about the idea, the solution to the video!”

  “Oh, yeah! Tell!”

  So I tell her about how Ross suggested that everyone could say one cool thing about themselves and then we could cut it together and make the faces and voices of Rockwood Hills.

  “It sounds so perfect!” Chelsea says, and I can tell she means it. “By the way, you should call Ross.”

  “Huh?” I ask.

  “He likes you, Dina.” I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t.

  I know that he likes me. I just don’t really know what to do with that information. But that’s too pathetic to admit.

  “Just call him. Just to say hi. See what happens.” She pauses. “And have fun tonight.”

  I hang up and go downstairs, where I find my mom and my bubbie and her jokes club. They’re always so happy to see me, and that feels good.

  “Look at this beautiful girl,” my bubbie says. “Have you ever seen someone so beautiful?”

  She always says stuff like this, so I’m kind of used to it by now. And besides, it’s one thing to hear your grandma tell you you’re beautiful; it’s another thing for a boy to say it or for the other girls at school to think you’re pretty.

  “The boys went bowling, so we decided to make it a girls’ night,” my mom says. I wonder if she gets depressed at the fact that she hangs out with women in their seventies. “Want to join us? We’re having baked ziti.”

  “I have plans, Mom.” I’m annoyed she didn’t remember. This is a momentous occasion. And I’m not even dreading it. She should be more excited. “Remember?”

  She nods, smiling, but trying to act that she’s not way too excited.

  When I get to Maura’s, the Acceptables are all in the den eating tortilla chips and guacamole.

  “We’re not studying yet,” Trisha says. “Obvs.”

  I laugh. “Okay, fine with me.”

  “Come sit.” Katherine pats the couch. “We’re watching some show about wedding planners to the staaaaaars.”

  I sit next to Katherine, and she passes me the bowl of chips and the bowl of guacamole.

  “She’s pretty,” Maura says about the bride who’s on the screen now. “But that dress—I don’t know—she can do better.”

  “Totally agree,” Katherine says after a sip of soda.

  It’s funny because we’re not even doing anything that exciting. We’re just sitting here watching some show that I’d never choose to watch on my own. But it’s relaxed and fun. I’m not stressing about what I’m going to say. Or stressing about what I’m not saying.

&
nbsp; “That’s gonna be you and Ross when you get married,” Trisha says to me. “Ha, ha.”

  She’s referring to this cheesy couple who are meeting with the wedding planner and seem so blissfully in love.

  “Yeah, right.” I laugh. I keep thinking about what Chelsea said on the phone before, about how I should call him. Chelsea knows what she’s talking about when it comes to this kind of stuff. I should listen to her. I should call him, especially when I have the support of the Acceptables around me.

  We spend the next few hours watching episode after episode of this stupid show, saying that each couple on the screen is actually someone from our school.

  “That’s so what Maria Penso’s gonna be like!” Trisha shouts. “She’s such the diva!”

  We go into Maura’s kitchen for drop-and-bake chocolate chip cookies. I will call Ross as soon as we’re done eating the cookies—that’s what I tell myself over and over again. I’m sitting on one of the high wooden stools when I feel my phone vibrating.

  I take it out and look at it.

  It’s Ross.

  “Who’s calling you?” Katherine asks.

  “Um … Ross.” I smile. I don’t know if I should answer or not. I was supposed to call him. I guess it’s better this way. But I just keep staring it, looking at it ringing, not answering it.

  “Get it! Duh!” Trisha yells. She leans over and pushes the green answer button for me. I give her a look like I’m annoyed, but I’m really not.

  I turn my back, because I feel weird talking right in front of them. They get the point because a few seconds later, they’ve left the kitchen.

  “Hi,” Ross says. “I’m just gonna say this. Okay?”

  “Um, okay.” I try not to laugh. I feel like I laugh at every single thing Ross says all the time, and I really don’t want to.

  “I like you. I think you like me. So, let’s go out.”

  I peek into the oven to check on the drop-and-bake cookies because it’s easier to focus on that than to focus on the fact that Ross just asked me out. “Sounds good to me,” I say finally.

  “Good.”

  “Good.” I laugh. I can’t help it.

  “See you in school,” he says.

  After I hang up, Maura, Katherine, and Trisha come rushing back in, like they were listening at the door.

  They come over, and all lean in and hug me. The kitchen smells like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and Maura’s heated kitchen floor feels so good on my feet.

  “You have a boyfriend,” Katherine says.

  “And it’s Ross!” Trisha adds.

  “Have a cookie!” Maura says, taking the tray out of the oven.

  We all crack up.

  As we’re eating cookies and drinking chocolate milk, I decide that they’re definitely not the Acceptables.

  They’re the Favorables now.

  Sasha Preston piece of advice: Take the

  time to notice improvements in people.

  At school on Monday, everyone’s talking about Ross and Dina going out, because apparently he called her over the weekend. And when I say everyone’s talking about it, I mean everyone that I know. It’s like they’ve never heard of two people going out before. No one cared this much when I went out with Pace Lerner. Maybe that’s because he moved away a month later?

  Kendall’s going on and on about how she realized that Dina’s so cool and how she’s like no one else at our school and how we need to be more open-minded for high school.

  And I agree with her.

  We’re in social studies waiting for class to start when Dina walks in. I try to see if she looks different, if she has that glow that they say you can get when you’re going out with someone. I’ve never actually seen anyone get it, though. She doesn’t. She’s still wearing her old jeans and one of her zip-up sweaters. She’s like a girl version of Mister Rogers.

  Why am I being so mean? It’s only inside my head, but still. I wish I could stop.

  “Hey,” she says, kind of out of breath. She sits down, and a minute later Mr. Valakis calls us over to his desk.

  “So we want to have everything set up for the gala a week in advance,” he says. “That way the MC of the event can run through everything a few times.”

  Dina and I look at each other.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem because you’re almost done, yes?” he asks.

  We nod but don’t say anything.

  “So you’ll give me the final product on DVD, and I’ll make sure to hold on to it until the gala.”

  We stare at him and still say nothing.

  “Okay?”

  We nod again, and he gives us a look like he’s a little concerned but too tired or uninterested to inquire about it. Then we walk back to our desks.

  “What are we gonna do?” I mumble to Dina under my breath.

  “No problem. We finish the interviews this week, get all the clips we can, and then I edit it together this weekend.” She smiles. “I’m a fast editor. Don’t worry.”

  I know what Ross likes about Dina; she always seems like she has everything under control. It’s what always makes me want to call her when my parents are fighting.

  She just has a way of making people feel calmer.

  “I love the idea about all the interesting facts about everyone,” I tell her.

  “Me, too. And it’s like it was right there in front of us; we just had to see it,” she says. “Well, Ross did kind of suggest it. But do you know what I mean?”

  “I totally do.”

  We stay at school really late, and Dina’s mom gives me a ride home after what feels like a million more interviews and tons more footage to sort through. I find my mom in the den sorting through files, but she’s smiling. “Come sit with me,” she says.

  So I join her on the couch. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

  “It’s a surprise.” She smiles even wider and then puts her arm around me. “Actually, go get your shoes on and meet me in the garage.”

  I look at my watch and realize it’s already after seven.

  “Where are Alexa and Dad?”

  “They’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

  I run upstairs, and as I’m getting my shoes on I notice that the first flakes of snow are falling. It’s December and we haven’t had snow yet.

  There’s something about a fresh coat of snow that makes everything feel fresh and clean, like a brand-new start, like everything that’s under the snow is done and buried and forgotten and by the time the snow melts, spring will be here and it really will be a new beginning.

  I wonder why dinner is a surprise, but dinner surprises in my family are rarely bad things, so I’m not worried. And we’re going out to eat on a weeknight like we used to, which feels good and exciting and reassuring.

  I decide to text Dina:

  She writes back a few seconds later:

  I waited so long to have people over this year, but now I feel like I can. Or maybe I just feel like I can have Dina over because she’s not going to judge me, because even if my parents get into a fight, so what? I bet she’ll have some insightful thing to say about it. Maybe her parents fight, too. Who knows?

  I’m in the car with my mom, and she has the oldies station on and she’s singing along, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard her sing in a while.

  I don’t know where we’re going, but I don’t ask. It’s kind of nice not knowing for once, and it’s not the bad kind of not knowing, where you’re all nervous and tense. It’s the good kind, where you know something good is about to happen.

  We pull into the parking lot, and of course I know where I am now—Riverbay—my family’s favorite restaurant. I’m going to get the salmon scampi pasta, and Alexa will get the filet of sole sandwich, and maybe my parents will share two dishes. But the rolls are the best part. They’re always warm and freshly baked, and the butter always melts on them perfectly.

  Alexa and my dad are already sitting at a table when we walk in, and there ar
e two bouquets of flowers on the table. One of yellow roses and one of pink roses.

  “I have some good news,” my dad says, smiling like he hasn’t smiled in a year. Maybe more. “Ready?”

  Alexa finishes buttering her roll, takes a bite, and then says, “Ready.”

  We all laugh.

  “Well, as you may have guessed by the fact that we’re out at Riverbay …” He pauses, smiling. “I got a new job. And not just any job. I’ll be structuring deals and solving complicated tax issues—all the stuff I really love.”

  He goes on for a few more minutes, using words and expressions that only my mom understands, but right now I don’t even care about understanding what he’s saying. I’m just enjoying how happy he looks.

  My mom raises her glass of red wine, and Alexa raises her Sprite, and I raise my lemonade, and we all clink glasses.

  We eat a delicious meal and even get ice cream sundaes for dessert. And we drive home and there’s no fighting, and there’s no fighting when we get home, either, and for the first time in months and months, I fall asleep without my headphones.

  There’s no noise that I need to drown out.

  The world is calm and peaceful and happy. At least, my world is, and I’m so grateful. Money doesn’t fix everything, but it does mean you can pay bills and buy groceries, so it’s pretty important.

  The thing is, the other stuff—the fancy jeans and the cars and all of that—it isn’t important. It’s just stuff, extra stuff, that makes people competitive and mean and angry when they don’t have it.

  I’m glad my dad has a job now and that he’ll be busy and working and out of his workout clothes. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to jump right back to insisting on having limited-edition jeans.

  Video tip: If you’re ending something

  on a music cue, bring the music up,

  and then fade it out.

  We finish our last round of interviews, and it’s more of the same stuff—students who feel like outsiders, students who want to be recognized for their talents, lots of people who want the whole being-chipped thing to be abolished.

  We’re at Chelsea’s house, and we’re looking through all the footage, and I’m editing it together on her dad’s Mac. We got an interview with every kid in our grade, and each one said an interesting fact about himself or herself.