Parallel Parking (3 page)

Missed Connections

Do you have a crush on someone from afar, but you don’t know his or her name? Did you bump into a cutie in the cafeteria line
and want to get to know him or her better? Put an ad in Missed Connections, and get the answers you need! It’s anonymous,
so if the object of your desire doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, no one will know. And you can always tell yourself
he or she never saw the ad, so your ego doesn’t get completely crushed. Read Missed Connections every day to see if someone
is looking for you!

To:     linaonme

From: your daily horoscope

HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: Your altruistic impulses surface today when you try to help someone who doesn’t ask for
it. Serves them right.

W
hat do you think?” Holly asked Lina. “Should I tell her?”

Lina was stunned. She and Holly walked out of their history class together, whispering. They hardly needed to, the halls were
so noisy. Holly had texted Lina a brief summary of Sean’s behavior at Autumn’s party—basically, the kiss—and asked for advice.
Lina was still reeling from the bomb Holly had just dropped.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this earlier,” Lina said. “This happened almost a week ago!”

Holly’s mouth twisted, a kind of facial squirming. “I know. I felt so weird about it, and I kept thinking it would go away,
but it hasn’t. I keep thinking about him. It. What happened.”

This will upset Mads
, Lina thought.
It has to
.

“If you think about it, nothing really happened,” she said to Holly. They stopped by her locker. She put her history book
away and got her driver’s ed notebook. Driver’s ed was next. She’d be seeing Mads in five minutes. She had to compose herself
first. Mads could sniff out a secret as easily as brownies. “He kissed you, he asked you out, you said no. End of story. What
is there to tell, really? I say don’t. You’ll only upset her, and for what?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Holly looked relieved. “You’d better not say anything.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Lina said. “I value my life.”

“Why should she be so mad, though?” Holly said. “She has Stephen. Is Sean not allowed to go out with anybody but her?”

“You know Mads,” Lina said. “She doesn’t have to make sense. She feels the way she feels, and that’s the end of that.”

“All right,” Holly said. “I guess I feel better. What are you doing in driver’s ed today?”

“Driving,” Lina said. “It’s our first day in the student driver cars.”

“That’s the fun part. Who’s in your car?”

“Ingrid, Karl, and Ramona,” Lina said.

“Oh,” Holly said, making a face. “Oh, well. It’s only for a few weeks.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself,” Lina said.

“Have a good class,” Holly said. “And remember—what I told you is just between us.”

“Got it.”

“What a rush!” Mads said as they left the school parking lot. “Don’t you love driving?”

Lina glanced at Ramona. Driver’s ed was over for the day. Mads had driven like a maniac.

“You almost crashed into our car,” Ramona said. “While I was driving.”

“Hey, it’s my first day,” Mads said. “Nobody’s perfect the first time out.”

“You could have killed us,” Ramona said.

“She was only going five miles an hour,” Lina said. “I doubt anyone would have been killed.”

“I couldn’t find the brake,” Mads said. “And Mitchell was so busy picking cookie crumbs out of his mustache, he didn’t slam
on the teacher brake until it was almost too
late. That was his fault, not mine! We were all screaming at him, ‘Stop! Stop!’ His reaction time was shockingly slow.”

“All I know is, from now on I’m requesting that our car be as far away from your car as possible,” Ramona said. “On the other
side of the school if we have to.
At
another school, if necessary.”

Lina felt bad. She could see that Mads was hurt. “It was the first day, Ramona.”

But Mads had a bouncy, resilient spirit. “Whatever,” she said. “Once I get my license, you won’t be able to avoid me on the
road.”

“You’re lucky I have a death wish,” Ramona said. “Or I’d move to another state after hearing that.” Ramona let her dyed blue-black
hair fall into her face dramatically. Her long nails were painted green, her lips were purple and pierced, and her dress was
black chiffon with a wide silver belt.

“Stop it,” Lina said. “Ramona, give Mads a chance. You weren’t exactly perfect today. You accidentally put the car into reverse
when you were supposed to go forward.
Twice.”

“Hey,” Ramona said. “What happens in the car stays in the car.”

“That’s a good rule,” Mads said.

“Anybody want to go get coffee?” Lina asked.

“I can’t,” Mads said. “Mom’s picking me up out front. Dentist appointment.”

“I’ll go,” Ramona said. “I don’t feel like going home yet. Dad’s redecorating.”

“Okay,” Lina said. She and Ramona didn’t usually hang out together, but what could Lina say?

She and Ramona unlocked their bikes and rode downtown to Vineland, a favorite RSAGE coffee hang.

“Ugh, look,” Ramona said. “The place is full of
them.”

The cozy coffee shop was crowded with different types of people, and Lina found none of them offensive. But Ramona was of
a different mind. Almost everyone in the world offended her, just by existing.

They took the one empty table. Lina ordered a cappuccino and Ramona asked for black coffee.

“Did you see the latest
Inchworm?”
Ramona asked.
Inchworm
was a school literary magazine. Ramona was the editor.

“No,” Lina said. “Let me guess: You’ve got a new poem in it?”

“I’ve got to find material somewhere,” Ramona said. “This one’s especially good. It’s called ‘Wheel of Death.’” She then recited:

The Wheel of Death keeps rolling

Rolling, rolling
,

Rolling toward us
.

Crushing us like bugs under its rolling, rolling wheel
.

Man on a treadmill, hamster on a wheel
.

Circle of Life, or Wheel of Death?

“That’s the first verse.” Ramona sat back and smiled, waiting for Lina’s response.

“I don’t know,” Lina said. “You didn’t really say anything new.”

“Nobody ever says anything new,” Ramona said. “There’s nothing new to say. It’s
how
you say it. The imagery? The irony?”

“You changed the Circle of Life into the Wheel of Death,” Lina said. She closed her eyes, pretending to let Ramona’s wisdom
sink in. She opened her eyes and said, “It just doesn’t do anything for me.”

“I don’t know why I keep expecting you to be different,” Ramona said.

Their coffees came. They sipped them to fill the uncomfortable silence. Lina felt that she
was
different from most people, in ways that really mattered. She thought Ramona overestimated her own distinction from the crowd.

“I suppose you’re going to that Hormone thing everybody’s yammering about?” Ramona said. “With Walker?”

“You mean the Happening?” Lina nodded. “He already asked me, even though it was kind of a given. Are you going?”

Ramona snorted. “No way. Who would I go with? One of these losers?” She glared around the room as if everyone in it were covered
with pig vomit. “I’d rather wear pink.”

“There must be some guy you’d like,” Lina said. “Does he have to be a Goth freak? Maybe you could convert a normal guy.”

“Normal is one thing,” Ramona said, nodding at a clutch of preppy RSAGE kids. The boys wore crayon-colored alligator shirts
neatly tucked into khakis (belted with a shiny leather strap or a blue cotton strip decorated with whales), with polished,
sock-free loafers. Two boys even had pennies in their shoes. The girls wore variations of pastel flower-printed tennis skirts,
tight headbands or ponytails, simple gold earrings, and more alligator shirts. One girl even wore a pair of red shorts covered
in pink turtles.

“But
that
is carrying it too far,” Ramona added. “Beyond the realm of White Bread into Stepford land. Is there a planet where they
brainwash people so they can’t
tell a decent outfit from wallpaper? Don’t these people know it’s the twenty-first century?”

“Some people say the same thing about you,” Lina said. “That Goth is so over, so nineteenth century, so fake—”

“I don’t care what ‘some people’ say,” Ramona said. “Those people are probably this very group at the table next to us. People
who make sure their pants are creased and their part is straight. Why should I take their opinions seriously?”

Lina sipped her coffee. She thought both styles were a little extreme, but she didn’t care enough to rant and rave about it.
If she liked a person, she liked her, no matter how that person dressed.

“The fashion-y type is almost as bad, though.” Ramona was watching a gaggle of popular girls, including Rebecca Hulse, Ingrid
Bauman, and Claire Kessler. They leaned together, whispering and giggling. They wore the latest fashions—jeans or short skirts
and boots and cute sweaters or jackets—hair long, makeup tasteful. “They’re so predictable,” Ramona said. “They let a fashion
magazine be their bible. If it’s in there, you’ll see it on them within days. All variations on the same looks, same colors,
same shapes.”

“I never knew you were so knowledgeable about
clothes,” Lina said. “I thought you knew Goth and Goth only.”

“You always underestimate me, Ozu,” Ramona said. “It’s your fatal mistake. See this eye?” She pointed to her heavily eyelinered
right eye, which was normally brown but that day was coated by a green contact lens. (The other eye remained brown; Lina could
only assume it was on purpose.)

“What about it?” Lina asked.

“It sees all. It knows all. It’s the all-seeing eye. Source of my power. Nothing gets past it. If I train it on you—” She
opened her eyes super-wide, nostrils flaring, and stared at Lina in a way that was meant to look threatening but really just
looked weird. “If I train it on you, it absorbs all your data, and then I have you. You’re in my power. The depths of your
soul are mine.”

“Quit it,” Lina said. “You’re freaking me out.”

“No, you’re freaking yourself out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

“No, I’m sorry, but you’re the one who’s freaking me out. Can we change the subject?”

“Fine. I just want to point out that jocks have the absolutely worst haircuts on the planet,” Ramona said. “Especially the
girls.”

“So let’s see, you hate preppies, popular kids, and jocks,” Lina said. “You like freaks—”

“But only the cool freaks,” Ramona said. “Not the wannabes.”

“Okay, the cool freaks are allowed to share the planet with you. But out of all those other people, which do you disapprove
of the most?”

“Definitely the preppies,” Ramona said.

“Why?”

“Because they’ve elevated Normality to a higher plane. They think it’s an art form. They’ve taken Normality and twisted it
until it’s almost Weird.”

“But wouldn’t that make them freaks? Which you would then like?”

“No, moron, because freaks are Anti-Normal.”

“But if the Normals are so normal they’re weird—”

“Look, you don’t get it, so let’s just drop it.” Ramona stirred her coffee, clanging her spoon loudly against her mug. “It’s
about
intention
, see, and—”

“I thought we were going to drop it.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” Ramona said. “One day I’m going to write a treatise about this and make you post it on your blog.
Just so everyone will understand.”

“A treatise. About Normality versus Weirdness. We’re not posting that.”

“Oh, yes you are. You will if I want you to.” She trained her green right eye at Lina, as if it could shoot laser beams.

“Stop it, you look crazy.”

“That’s the price I pay for my power.” Her nostrils flared. “I pay it gladly.”

“There are ten more ads today,” Lina said. “A lot of kids are out there looking for each other.”

She and Holly sat in Mads’ room checking on the Dating Game. There were a few new matchmaking requests, a couple of love questions,
but the most popular feature was Missed Connections. Lina scanned through the ads while Mads provided them with bowls of freshly
popped popcorn. Holly peered over Lina’s shoulder.

“‘Gorgeous girl with long brown hair, new to RSAGE, wearing tight jeans, boots, a white blouse, and lots of bracelets—I saw
you getting a drink from the water fountain in the courtyard Monday afternoon. Your hair kept falling into the water, and
you pushed it back with one hand. Did you see me? I was the large guy in the lacrosse jersey who followed you from the courtyard
into the lunchroom and then to your econ class, even though I don’t take econ. E-mail me! My dream is to go to the Happening
with you! Box 3554,’” Lina read aloud.

“Not another Quintana ad,” Holly said.

“I keep telling you, that girl knows what’s up,” Mads said.

Quintana Rhea had arrived at RSAGE a few weeks earlier from L.A. and instantly became the Hot Girl. So far Missed Connections
had received thirteen ads that were obviously aimed at her. Lina wondered if Quintana bothered to answer any of them.

Sean was the second most popular Missed Connections target. Three different girls wrote that they’d seen him sing at Autumn’s
Sweet Sixteen and wanted to go to the dance with him. Sean must have been reading the ads, because Lina came across this entry:

TO MY ADORING PUBLIC

Thanks for all the invites to the Hap, to go to the movies with you, and whatever, but I’m hanging loose right now, not ready
to get tied down to one girl, so you can all relax. If I need you, don’t worry, you’ll hear from me. Lots of luv, S.B.

Lina couldn’t resist a glance at Holly to check her reaction. Holly kept cool and didn’t betray any feelings. Mads was digging
into the popcorn bowl and didn’t notice Lina’s look.