Confectionately Yours #4: Something New Read Online Free PDF Page B

moment. Part of the reason Artie and I stopped being friends is because she had a crush on Marco … and she found out that he had kissed me. We have both had crushes since then — both on Devon McAllister. But Devon turned out to be a jerk. Inever think about him anymore, and I don’t think that Artie does, either. But I wonder now if she still has a crush on Marco. Has it evaporated, disappearing into the air like steam? Or does it still linger, like a scar that remains even after the wound has healed?
    Artie’s eyes drop back to the page. “You should tell him about the class.”
    “Maybe I will,” I tell her. And, by the way, Marco asked me to the Spring Fling Barbecue . I want to say it, but I can’t make it come out. It seems … dangerous. Even though I feel like I should tell her.
    I pick up the brochure and drop it into my messy, messy bag.
    “So — what are you doing with an Islip brochure, anyway?” Artie takes a sip of cocoa. She’s the only person in the world who can do that and not get a chocolate mustache.
    “My dad wants me to think about Islip.”
    “Think about going there, you mean?”
    “Yeah.” I squeeze my shoulders to my ears and drop them.
    Artie takes a long sip of cocoa and looks out across the café. “That would be too bad,” she says, half to herself. Then she looks back at me.
    “I know,” I admit. I run my finger along the smooth, lacquered edge of the table, wondering if she means that it would be too bad … now that we’re not fighting anymore.
    “What are you doing Saturday?” Artie asks suddenly.
    “No plans.”
    “Game Night?” she suggests. Surprise makes me choke, and Artie backs off immediately. “Oh, well, if you don’t want to —”
    “No,” I say quickly. Game Night was something we used to do with Marco. All three of us would get together and watch a movie and/or play a game. For years, we spent our Saturday nights hanging out in my family’s basement. But then I moved, and everything got weird. Still — Game Night is something I miss. “I’d love to hang out on Saturday,” I say.
    “Okay,” Artie says.
    And even though she’s drinking from her mug of cocoa, I can tell she’s smiling.
    There’s a tap on the window, and we both look up. Omar is outside with the little dog he was walking the other day, and he’s gesturing wildly.
    Artie takes a cool sip from her mug. “What’s Omar flapping about?”
    “I think he wants to talk to me. I’ll be back in a minute.” My chair squeaks as I push away from the table. “Hey, Omar — what’s up?” I ask as I step out onto the street. I fold my arms across my chest and shiver a little. The sun has disappeared behind a pale gray blanket of clouds, and the air is damp and cold.
    The dog sits at attention at Omar’s feet and gazes up at me, as if she might have something to say. “Listen, Hayley, I’m sorry,” Omar says. “I shouldn’t have tried to drag you into that argument with Meghan.”
    “It’s okay,” I tell him. To tell the truth, I’d almost completely forgotten about it. But Omar winces, as if the memory is still poking at him.
    “It’s just — Jamil is having a lot of trouble in math,” Omar admits. “I’m worried he might flunk if he doesn’t get his act together.”
    “He doesn’t care about school much,” I say.
    “Right. He’s definitely smart, but —” Omar shakes his head. “Things are pretty rough at home, too. His dad is really hard on him.” He stops and looks at me, as if he wants to make sure I’m understanding.
    I don’t really know what to say, so I just nod.
    “He’s a clown, but that’s not all he is,” Omar says.
    “And that’s why you care so much about the tutoring,” I say. “But why not just get a tutor for Jamil?”
    “No way. He’d never go for it. It has to be something normal — something that a lot of kids are doing. He hates to feel dumb.”
    “He isn’t dumb.”
    “I know that. And you know it. But his grades don’t