Ava XOX (5 page)

DEAR DIARY,

Pip's cell phone rang, and she jumped and read it and smiled big-time. It was a text from Ben, and soon they were texting back and forth. Later Pip showed me what they wrote—which was lucky because otherwise I might have been tempted to sneak a peek while she was in the shower!

He texted: “It's OK. We can just
each other.”

She texted a pink heart emoticon.

He texted: “PS My battery was dead and I couldn't find the charger. Sorry!”

She texted another pink heart.

He texted: “What are you doing later?”

She texted “idk” which means “I don't know.” And then he called! And they made a plan to go skating! Today! On Valentine's Day!

I wonder if they will hold hands. Like whoever skates better can make sure the other one doesn't fall? Or maybe they'll skate and skate and not touch at all? (A rhyme!)

I can alllllllmost picture myself skating with Chuck. But I can't picture us holding hands.

Kelli's party starts in an hour. I don't know if I'm ready for a real boy-girl party, especially at Kelli's. And especially since, as I confessed, I
Chuck a little even though I'm not supposed to.

AVA, INAPPROPRIATE

DEAR DIARY,

Why
do
I
Chuck anyway? Sometimes he is gross. For example, here's a joke he told me that I can't get out of my head:

Question: What do people who eat lots and lots of alphabet soup have?

Answer: Vowel movements.

At first I didn't get it. Then I said, “Ewww!”

I just told that joke to Pip and asked if she thought it was funny or disgusting. She said, “Both,” and explained that a lot of middle school boys have sick senses of humor. She said that last week, a boy in her science class said, “It's better to be ‘pissed off' than ‘pissed on.'”

“Ugh!” I said, shocked by the joke and the fact that Pip knows so much about middle school boys.

She also said, “What's the difference between roast beef and pea soup?”

“What?” I asked.

“Anyone can roast beef,” she said.

I said “Ewww!” again and rolled my eyes.

Then I asked if she was still nervous about her presentation in the assembly next week. She said yes but added that she was
not
going to think about it on Valentine's Day. I asked if I could borrow her pink top and she said sure.

AVA IN PINK

PS It's not that I like all of Chuck's jokes. What I like is that he picks them out just for me. Or he used to anyway.

DEAR DIARY,

When I walked into Kelli's big modern house, the whole place smelled like pizza. A lady in a uniform took my coat and put it in Kelli's room, and a younger blond lady said, “Come in! Come in!” I figured she was Kelli's mother.

All the girls in my grade were wearing pink or red except Emily Jenkins, who forgot. I'm glad I didn't forget. I would not have wanted to be wearing yellow if everyone else was wearing pink and red.

I looked around and did not see Chuck anywhere.

Kelli was wearing a white top with red hearts and golden heart earrings. (She's one of the only girls in our class with pierced ears.) Her headband was red with shiny sequins. Even her dog had little red bows. She's a goldendoodle, which is a golden retriever and poodle mix. Her name is Snuggles and she's hypoallergenic, which means she doesn't make Kelli's father sneeze as much as a regular dog would.

I hope it's not weird that I'm about to write what I'm about to write, but I also noticed that Kelli was wearing a bra. It would have been impossible
not
to notice, because her shirt was thin and her shoulder straps were peeking out.

Most girls in our class do NOT wear bras!

I doubt I'll ever
need
a bra, to tell you the truth. (Hey, the initials of “to tell you the truth” are T-T-Y-T-T!) But who knows? Pip and Kelli are growing up—so maybe I am too and just can't tell?

Anyway, the lady in the uniform, Mrs. Atkins, kept asking what kind of pizza we all wanted and offering different toppings, from
pepper
s to
pepper
oni. I asked for a plain slice because my stomach was full of butterflies, and I wasn't sure if pizza and butterflies mix.

Well, I was in the middle of a bite when Chuck walked in. He wasn't dressed up (maybe boys dress up only for Halloween?), but he did look extra handsome.

Kelli bounded over and handed him a card. “Open it!” she said, all excited. I hoped no one was watching me watch them, but I leaned forward so I could see the card. On it, a pair of honeybees were saying, “BEE MINE!”

Chuck had a card for her too! It had a picture of a bright-green dinosaur and the words, “You're DINOmite.” Even though it was misspelled, when I read that, all the butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings one last time and…died. Every single one.

Is this what jealousy feels like? If so, it is terrible!

I didn't want to be looking at them looking at each other, but I couldn't turn away. I wished he'd handed
me
the DINOmite card. But he hadn't, so it was like tiny sticks of dynamite were exploding in my head. It's just so hard to believe that they are each other's valentine.

I was standing there trying not to feel sorry for myself when Kelli flicked the lights on and off and announced it was time to play limbo. “I did it every day on vacation in Trinidad,” she added. (That's an island. I looked it up.) We followed her to her family's giant “rec room” where she had set up two vertical poles with a three-foot pole between them. She said we would all take turns trying to dance under the horizontal pole without knocking into it or falling down.

A few kids looked confused, so she said, “I'll go first. Watch.” Then she put on Caribbean music, leaned back so she was facing the ceiling, and with her knees forward, managed to step-step-step under the pole without knocking it over or landing on her butt.

Confession: I
wanted
Kelli to land on her butt!

“Who's next?” she asked.

Jamal said, “I'll go.” But his shoulder bumped the pole, so he got eliminated.

Ethan said, “I'll try.” But his chest bumped into the bar, so he got eliminated too.

“It isn't easy!” Kelli exclaimed with a lip-glossy smile. I thought that was obnoxious. Obviously, it
was
easy for her because of her gymnastics lessons and fancy vacation.

Grace, Olivia, Abigail, Aiden, Namira, Conner, Zara, Riley, Maham (whose name is a palindrome, M-A-H-A-M), and a bunch of others all went. Some made it under; some didn't.

“I'll try,” Maybelle said. She leaned back, inched forward, and scooted under the pole.

I decided to get my turn over with, so I leaned back, stuck out my knees, and moved to the drumbeat. And I made it!

Chuck said, “I'll go,” and made it look like it was a piece of cake, which we all knew it wasn't.

But here's what I have to tell you: when Chuck was practically horizontal to the floor, something fell out of his jacket pocket. A pack of bubblemint gum! When he stood up, he grabbed it really fast and jammed it back into his pocket. Then he looked at me, and I looked at him, and we kept looking at each other for a few really long seconds. (I know seconds all last the same amount, but some definitely feel longer than others.)

And I couldn't help wondering: Was that bubblemint gum for me? Part of me thought,
No, why would it be?
But another part of me was chock-full of hope.

“Who's next?” Kelli bubbled.

Emily J. bumped the pole with her tummy.

Emily S. bumped it with her chin.

Emily L. bumped it with her forehead.

Kelli kept saying, “How low can you go? How low can you go?” and kids kept getting eliminated. After each round, Kelli lowered the pole a smidge so it got even harder to slither under.

On my third turn, I lost my balance—splat!—so that was that. I was out. It made me mad that Kelli had invited us all to play a game she's so good at. Limbo is easy-peasy for her. She's been practicing. Her parents probably hired a limbo coach. (She really does have a homework helper who comes to her house every week, which I don't think is fair!)

Question: Did I lose my balance because I'm only so-so at limbo or because thinking about the mystery gum had made me dizzy?

Anyway, soon it was down to just Chuck and Kelli. Of course I was rooting for Chuck, but I have to say, they were both
naturals
, if that's the word. I guess Chuck and Kelli have limbo in common. But one difference is that every time she made it under, she seemed all proud of herself, and every time
he
did, he just looked relieved.

One good thing is that whenever it was his turn, I could look right at him without thinking twice about it, because everyone else was looking at him too. (I wish I didn't like looking at him as much as I do like looking at him.)

After two more rounds, Kelli whispered in his ear, he nodded, and they called it a tie. We all clapped, and Kelli's mom rushed over and took a million photos of the Limbo King and Queen. I wondered if she was going to post them or frame them—or both! Right when I was sick to death of clapping, Kelli's mom brought out pink mini cupcakes from Angel Cakes, the fanciest bakery in Misty Oaks. And Mrs. Atkins brought out chocolate-covered strawberries!

Soon parents started coming, and Kelli stepped outside to say good-bye to everyone.

I went to Kelli's bedroom to get my coat. Her room is pink and has a private bathroom with a lavender shower curtain dotted with bunnies. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes, but if I had my own private bathroom, I might not mind having a lavender shower curtain dotted with bunnies either.

I grabbed my coat and was about to scoot out the door when Chuck said, “Ava.”

We hadn't said two words to each other all night.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“Remember at the bank, you said I could buy—?”

“I was kidding…” I interrupted, because I didn't want to say, “Of course I remember! I even wrote the conversation down in my diary!”

He reached into his pocket and handed me the pack of gum.

And I took it.

I took it!

And I know a pack of gum is
not
the same as a Valentine card with honeybees or dinosaurs or red roses or cutout letters. But bubblemint
is
sweet and so is Chuck.

I couldn't help smiling as I pictured him going to a store for gum and paying for it with his own money and knowing the whole time he was going to give it to me, me, me.

“Thank you,” I said, and we looked at each other. I was feeling nervous but happy-nervous.

Just then, Kelli burst back in. Her blond hair was staticky and her cheeks were pink, and she saw us smiling. “Wasn't that super fun?” she asked.

I felt like she'd caught us breaking some rule, but she said, “Chuck, you're really great at limbo! I bet you're a great dancer too!”

“I've never really danced,” he replied.

“I take classes every Thursday,” she said, maybe hoping he'd sign up and they could learn cool new dance moves together.

He nodded, and I put the pack of gum into my pocket and touched it with my fingertips. It felt like a secret, and I made a decision: I might never even chew it. I might just
keep
it forever.

AVA, WITH A SECRET