Something Like Fate Page 2

  Anyway. After that confrontation with Bianca, I basically stopped doing stuff with the group, except for Erin. I’d still talk to everyone if they talked to me, but after a while they stopped.

  It’s interesting how you can know someone for a long time, and then one day you just see them in this whole different way. That’s clearly what happened to Erin with Jason.

  “I think he likes me,” Erin gushes.

  “Cool.”

  “Everyone’s been pushing us to get together, so they must have a reason.”

  “Maybe he told someone he likes you and now they all know.”

  “You think so?”

  “Totally.”

  “Of course we got put together for multimedia. The Energy is bringing us together.”

  I definitely believe everything happens for a reason. I’m just not sure I believe Erin’s reason for why she got put with Jason.

  Erin’s all, “Jason stayed after yesterday to ask me about something he totally could have found out from anyone. But he asked me !”

  “Because he obviously likes you.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Why else would he ask you?”

  “I know!” Erin’s cheeks get pink. “He is so cute.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You think he’s cute?” Erin thinks I can get any boy I want. She’s seriously delusional. The boys who approach me are usually obnoxious types who dedicate their lives to picking on anyone even remotely different from them. Like that’s attractive.

  Erin knows that we could never be interested in the same boy. Not that I’d ever go after him if I were. But it would be impossible for me to like a boy she likes. We have totally different types.

  I go, “He’s cute for you, I mean.”

  “Really?”

  “Totally.”

  “All signs point to us being together. I had a dream where I was eating this huge ice-cream cone. You know what ice cream represents?”

  We always interpret our dreams. Erin believes that symbolism in dreams foretells the future. I’m more into the kind of dream analysis where you interpret how the symbolism relates to your current situation.

  We’re both obsessed with fate. Anything that helps us make sense of this life is fascinating. At the beginning of the year we made a chart. The chart has topics related to fate that we want to know more about. Each topic has its own month. During that month, we learn as much as we can and have these intense discussions about everything we find out. By the end of this year, we’ll be experts on fate.

  Here’s our chart:

  Erin & Lani’s Fate Study Chart—Junior Year

  Even though we were just learning about dream analysis, I can’t remember what ice cream represents. Or if I even learned that one. It’s impossible to memorize the meanings of more than a few symbols. We decided that the key to dream analysis is checking a reliable website or book after every dream.

  “I don’t remember that one,” I go.

  “It symbolizes compensating for lack of contentment and foretells that the best is yet to come. Oh! The ice cream was this rusty orange color? And the next day Jason was wearing a shirt that exact same color!”

  “Get out.”

  “Well, it was almost the same color.” Erin tells me more about Jason and how she thinks he likes her but how she doesn’t know for sure so she’s going to wait and see if he asks her out.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” she wants to know.

  “Yeah. Or you could always initiate things.”

  “But isn’t it better to wait for him to ask me out?”

  “It is, but don’t wait too long. What if he asks someone else out because he doesn’t know you like him?”

  “If he likes me, he shouldn’t be asking anyone else out!”

  “I know. I’m just saying if he doesn’t do anything soon, you might want to.”

  If we weren’t so close, I might be jealous that Erin has a boy to like and I don’t. But I just feel happy for her. Erin and I are bonded for life. Being bonded for life isn’t the same as being best friends. I mean, we’re best friends, but it goes way beyond that. What do you call it when two people have an intense shared history? When nothing can ever separate them? Soul sisters. That’s what we’ve been ever since the accident.

  Except lately I can feel things changing. It’s like we’re growing apart or something. The weird thing is, this somehow happened when I wasn’t looking. There’s not really any one thing I can say is the reason we’re drifting. Maybe that’s just what happens when you grow up. My parents hardly know anyone they went to high school with. How is that possible? Do you graduate and then just let your friends fade away? Even when they seem like your whole world?

  I know that won’t happen with Erin. I love being so close to another person, knowing that our connection will always be there. It makes me feel safe. Only . . . if I were going to be really honest with myself, I would have to admit that we’re not the same Erin and Lani we were before. I can’t tell how much of our connection is because of the things we still have in common or the one thing that bonds us for life.

  But no matter what happens, I know I can totally count on Erin for anything. And she knows I’d do anything for her.

  4

  I’m trying not to spill more paint. So far, I’ve made five signs and spilled blue paint on my floor. At least my house has hardwood floors, so it wasn’t impossible to clean up.

  To make this sign for the cafeteria recycling bins, I’m using bold colors and big letters. I’m also putting on glitter and outlining the letters in metallic markers. I want to make it impossible for people not to notice the bin labeled BOTTLES & CANS. I’m so over kids using the tired excuse that they didn’t see the sign every time they throw their water bottles in the garbage can. With my new signs, no one will have an excuse not to recycle.

  Marnie and Bianca were supposed to help me make the signs, but they canceled at the last minute. I wish they weren’t in our club. It’s so obvious they’re just using it to put on their college apps. Danielle came over for a few hours, though. We became really good friends after I broke away from the Golden Circle. These days I have more in common with Danielle than Erin. She’s the only other person at school who cares as much about saving the planet as I do.

  I’m president of One World, our school’s environmental club. A junior gets to be president for two years, so at the end of next year we’ll vote for a new president. I guess you could say my love for Earth is genetic. My mom’s an environmental-health specialist and my dad builds greenhouses. They obviously have the environmental thing in common, but Mom is fifteen years younger than Dad. So that’s where the similarity ends. Dad’s ultimate night involves sitting at home working on a crossword puzzle or reading a mystery novel. Mom’s all about the social life. She loves meeting new people and getting the word out about green living. We even have an organic garden in our backyard. Mom sells vegetables from it at the green market every summer.

  Everyone in town knows my mom. We live in one of those small New Jersey towns that’s close to a lot of other small New Jersey towns called things like Tranquility and Peapack and Glad-stone. Everyone tends to know everyone else in towns like these. So my friends are used to Mom’s house rules. When they come over, they always turn off the lights when they leave a room. They never let the water run when they’re not using it. We also have to unplug the TV and computer when we’re done with them, because when they’re left plugged in they still use electricity, even when they’re turned off.

  One thing I like about my house is that there’s tons of natural light, so we usually don’t turn on lamps during the day. It has a lot of glass and high ceilings and open spaces. We have three skylights and two sets of sliding-glass doors—one for the upstairs balcony and one for the back porch. The back porch leads out to a dock with Dad’s rowboat tied to it. Sometimes he rows out to the middle of the lake and does his crossword puzzles there.

  An entire con
tainer of glitter just spilled all over the place. Educating the public is never easy.

  Somehow I manage to finish the sign without spilling anything else. Then I lean it up against the wall to dry. My computer dings with an IM. It’s from Erin.

  aceofwands: omg you are NOT going to believe this!!!

  berrygirl: what?

  aceofwands: jason called me!

  berrygirl: shut up!

  aceofwands: i gave him my number in class today. we just got off the phone.

  berrygirl: details please.

  aceofwands: he wanted to know if i did the homework yet. he said he had a question on it, which we all know is code for he wants me.

  berrygirl: did it even sound like a real question?

  aceofwands: hells no! and that’s not all. i think he’s going to ask me out.

  berrygirl: how do you know?

  aceofwands: just a feeling. oh, and i told him i like him.

  berrygirl: what happened to waiting for him to come to you?

  aceofwands: i did! he’s the one who called me, remember? so i was like, okay, he’s putting himself out there, i can meet the boy halfway.

  berrygirl: what did you say?

  aceofwands: i was just like how i think he’s cute. and funny ☺

  berrygirl: and?

  aceofwands: and he said he had no idea i felt that way.

  berrygirl: boys are so clueless.

  aceofwands: tell me about it. but now he knows. so it’s just a matter of time.

  berrygirl: you go with your fine self.

  aceofwands: thanks, i will. what about you?

  berrygirl: ?

  aceofwands: with greg?!

  berrygirl: how many times do I have to tell you this? i. do. not. like. greg.

  aceofwands: why not?

  berrygirl: *headdesk* um, i don’t know, maybe because we have absolutely nothing in common? at ALL?

  aceofwands: oh. that.

  berrygirl: why do you always act like i never told you this?

  aceofwands: i’m not sure. maybe for the same reason you always act like he’s not the most gorgeous slice of boy you’ve ever seen?

  berrygirl: like that’s the most important thing.

  aceofwands: it doesn’t hurt.

  berrygirl: and it doesn’t help when we have nothing to talk about.

  aceofwands: who’s talking about talking?

  berrygirl: slut.

  aceofwands: stop talking trash about yourself.

  berrygirl: gotta go . . . more signs to do.

  aceofwands: ciao for now.

  I’m less than shocked that Erin went ahead and told Jason she likes him before she even knew if he liked her. When she wants something, she stays totally focused on that one thing until she gets it. She’s fearless like that.

  I wish I could say the same thing about myself.

  5

  In a school as small as ours, you know the names of everyone in your class. There are seventy-three people in our junior class. Most of us have gone to school together since first grade. But that doesn’t mean we actually know one another. I know people by their reputations and who they hang out with and how they act in class. These judgments aren’t based on truth. You can’t ever know the real anybody unless you’re friends with them. And sometimes not even then.

  I don’t really fit into any group. Not anymore. I like doing my own thing. I mean, I obviously relate to the other kids in One World and naturally I get labeled as a tree hugger. I’m not that easy to define, though. I’m not popular, but I’m not unpopular. I’m not a jock, but I’m not inept at sports. I’m not a nerd, but I’m not a slacker. I guess it sounds like I’m pretty average. But I’m not that, either.

  It’s always been hard for me to find people I can relate to. The people in One World are great, but Danielle’s the only one I’m really good friends with. When I try to be friends with people I don’t feel enough of a connection with, things always fizzle out. It’s not worth the effort to put so much energy into building a friendship with someone if you’re just going to drift apart anyway.

  Erin wants me and Blake to be friends with Jason. She keeps saying how hard next year’s going to rock with the four of us doing stuff together. It’s like she wants us to double-date or something. Erin’s excitement for senior year is scary. I’m excited too, but only because it’s our last year. Erin’s acting like senior year’s going to be one big party with her as the guest of honor. Which totally doesn’t surprise me. She loves being the center of attention. She also loves to discuss boys she likes. Specifically, whether or not these boys might like her back. I’m sure part of the reason Erin wants all of us to hang out is so we can talk about Jason after.

  So we’re all getting pizza. Blake can’t wait to evaluate Jason. Jason’s not here yet, though. We’ve only been waiting for ten minutes, but Erin’s freaking out.

  “Where is he?” Erin leans way over on her stool and stretches her neck out for a better view of the sidewalk. This makes me nervous. She’s five nine and looks like she’s about to tip over.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her.

  “He should be here by now.”

  “He’s only like ten minutes late.”

  “Exactly. He’s never late.”

  I don’t say what I want to say, which is that this is only the third time they’re hanging out. You can’t know what a person never does if you’ve only hung out with them two times before.

  Blake’s like, “All I know is, if we don’t eat soon I’m going to chew off a limb. And I can’t guarantee it’ll be mine.”

  “Didn’t you eat lunch?” I say.

  “Not so much, no.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wasn’t hungry then.”

  “You are so manorexic.”

  “Which is why I’m hungry enough to eat three pizzas.”

  “Let’s just order so it’ll be ready by the time Jason gets here.” I look at Erin. “Okay?”

  Erin leans back toward us. “What?”

  “Can we please order?” Blake begs. “I’m going to faint and what kind of fun company will I be then?”

  Erin is not liking this idea. “We don’t know what Jason wants.”

  “We’re at the pizza place,” Blake explains. “He wants pizza.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No fighting at the table, kids,” I warn. Erin must really be nervous. She and Blake usually have this thing where Blake’s all adoring of Erin’s fabulousness and Erin basks in the glow of his attention. They haven’t even joked in their usual flirting-but-not way once the whole time we’ve been here. At first, Erin thought Blake liked her. She was totally freaking out because she didn’t like him back. But I just told her that Blake didn’t like her that way either, and then everything was fine.

  “Fine,” Erin says. “Order. But don’t blame me when it’s not what Jason wants.”

  “We’ll get extra cheese,” Blake says. “Who doesn’t like extra cheese?”

  Erin stretches over on her stool again. She keeps turning one of her rings. Erin wears a million rings. She always turns them when she’s nervous.

  “If he doesn’t like extra cheese, he’s not worthy,” Blake mumbles to me. Then he attempts to flag down the waiter, who’s sitting at a back table drinking coffee.

  “There he is!” Erin squeals. Jason’s crossing the street. Erin waves, but he doesn’t see her. He has cool sneakers. We all watch him come over, just staring at him. I hope we’re not making him uncomfortable.

  “Hey,” Jason says. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re late?” Erin goes. “I didn’t notice.”

  Blake rolls his eyes.

  Jason glances at us.

  Erin’s like, “Oh! You know Blake and Lani, right?”

  “Kind of. Hey.”

  We say hey back.

  Jason sits on the stool next to Erin. I notice that they’re about the same height.

  Blake’s like, “You’re okay with extra cheese,
right?”

  “I’m all about the extra cheese,” Jason confirms.

  “See?” Blake says to Erin, still flapping his arms wildly at the oblivious waiter. “I told you.”

  “You didn’t think I’d want extra cheese?” Jason asks Erin. Then he makes a face like, Who wouldn’t want extra cheese?

  “No, I did, but I just said how you might want other toppings.”

  “I’m minimalist about pizza,” Jason says. “It tastes better with less stuff on it, you know?”

  Erin, who enjoys about ten toppings crammed on her pizza, goes, “Totally.”

  Jason looks over at me. “We had algebra together, right?”

  “Yeah.” That was two years ago. I only vaguely remember him. Something about circles. “Didn’t you draw perfect circles?”

  “That’s what I’m known for.”

  “Really?” Erin goes, all excited about the circles.

  Jason says, “No, it’s just this one time I went up to the board and I had to draw a circle and it came out really . . . round.”

  “Which is always a good thing, when you’re drawing a circle,” I say.

  “Exactly.” Jason smiles at me.

  “It was more than one time,” I remind him. For some reason, it’s all coming back to me now. “It was more like three or four times.”

  “What can I say?” Jason goes. “You got me.”

  Now we’re both smiling.

  Blake stares at us.

  “So,” Erin says. “What do we want to drink?”

  While we’re eating, Blake drills Jason with questions. It’s Blake’s way of making sure Jason is worthy of the magnificence that is Erin. If Jason feels like he’s on the hot seat, he doesn’t show it at all.

  When Blake finishes his second slice and reaches for a third, I’m like, “Feeling better?”

  He winks at me. “Much.”

  I reach over and pick a crust crumb off his lip. This always happens with Blake. He eats so quickly that part of whatever he’s wolfing down usually ends up on his face.