All Planned Out

Fourteen (Charlotte)

For the first time in what has to be years, I did not see Alex at all on a school-year Sunday. We would always make some time to get together to do homework, study for a test, or at least hang out to stare at the TV or grab some lunch. It made sense. We were each right next door.

Instead, I sat in my room alone staring at my new Homecoming dress hanging on the back of my door and watching what was definitely a few too many skateboarding videos. I was hoping I would be able to actually learn something about the things Montana was doing on her board as she hopped and twisted herself around, but no matter what it all felt like a jumble of confusing jargon lodged in my brain and scared to come out for fear of being completely and utterly wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was compliment her for doing something that she definitely didn't do.

I'm not sure I could deal with that embarrassment.

I also occasionally checked Montana's videos to see if anything I had filmed had been uploaded. She hadn't mentioned what she was going to do with my footage or when, but every time I refreshed the page to see nothing new waiting, I feared that I really hadn't done as good a job as she had repeatedly tried to tell me I did the other night.

It probably annoyed her how much I asked for reassurance, but after everything Stuart had said I wanted to make absolutely certain that I wasn't being a complete screwup. And anyway, if it did annoy her, she didn't show it. That's a good thing, isn't it?

"You're not still worried about the color of your dress are you?"

This was how Alex greeted me as I got in his car Monday morning. Losing myself in skating tricks had been a wonderful distraction from the fact that I had most likely picked the wrong thing to wear for the dance.

"As long as we match, right?" I said, as flatly as I could manage. "That's the important part."

"Is it?"

"I...I...I..." There was nothing I could say, so I didn't.

"You did try it on, didn't you?" I nodded, even though I didn't want to. "And you look good in it?"

"I...I think so."

"That's what should matter. Just look your best."

"I try."

"The..." Alex paused and sighed. "...uh, the only problem is..."

"What?"

"Uh, like, I'm sure Montana knows what she's attracted to. She might be attracted to a girl that looks like you. She might love how you look in your dress. But..."

"But?"

"...but she doesn't know you're into girls. She's not going to just start flirting with you because you look good. She thinks you're totally straight."

"Stop reminding me." I did my best to turn myself away from him. This was my way of telling him this conversation was over. We'd been around each other enough for him to have more than learned his lesson, which I knew he did when I heard him let out an even louder and longer sigh over my shoulder.

"You'll get there, Char, I know you will. You've already started hanging out, so, that's good..."

"She's just so far out of my league." I don't know why I said anything, but I did. "I don't even know what I'm doing when I'm with her."

"You're helping her, aren't you?"

"I don't want to be her assistant, Alex."

"I know, I was just—"

"—but if that's how this has to start, then that's what I'm going to do. If she wants me to go to the park with her once a week or every single damn night, I'll do it. I want to be near her. I want her to be near me. I want to get to know her. I want her to get to know me. I want us to become close enough friends that I won't feel like my soul is trying to escape my body every time I talk to her and then I can tell her how I feel about her." I laid myself back in his seat, cranked it backwards, and stared up at the ceiling. I was shaking and sweating. My feet were starting to go numb. "And then she'll probably laugh at me."