Everything I Know About You Page 5

  Ava walked back into the room. “This hotel is weird,” she announced. “All the soap has pictures of George Washington.”

  “Fighter of tyranny and germs!”

  She didn’t laugh. She just perched on her bed and reached for the room phone. “Hello,” she said loudly, in a grown-up-sounding phone voice. “This is Lexington zero six. Who do I speak to about getting a bathroom scale, please?”

  It was a strange question, but what I noticed mostly was how her voice sounded just like her mom’s. Maybe one day Mrs. Seeley had sat her down in the kitchen and said: Okay, Ava, this is how you speak to the guy at the front desk. Or maybe Ava heard her mom’s voice so much she didn’t even realize she was imitating her.

  Then I wondered if I sounded like my mom too. If I did, it wasn’t because she taught me to sound like her.

  Although maybe you picked up stuff from your mom without even knowing it.

  Pirate Band-Aids

  TEN MINUTES LATER, SONNET TEXTED to ask if I had an extra toothbrush. If anyone else had asked such a dumb question, I’d have texted back: Who carries around extra toothbrushes??? But it was Sonnet, and I thought she was probably freaking about rooming with Haley Spriggs. So I suggested we meet in the lobby (Boston Harbor, or whatever it was called) and check out Ye Olde Apothecary Shoppe, or whatever dumb name they gave it. I texted Spider to come meet us there too, so I could check in with him, see how he was doing with Marco.

  I met Sonnet at the toothpaste shelf, which was also the first-aid shelf. Immediately I fell madly in love with a box of pirate Band-Aids.

  “Must have,” I announced.

  “What for?” Sonnet asked over her shoulder as she examined a toothbrush.

  “Are you serious? Band-Aids with skulls and crossbones? This is the best thing ever. Not very colonial-themed, but.”

  “Well, they did have pirates in those days, right?” Sonnet walked over to me and said in a low voice: “Oh. So I wanted to tell you: I noticed something.”

  “About what?”

  “Haley. You know, for that game we’re playing.”

  “Right.” I acted all casual, like Oh, yeah, of course we’re playing the spying-on-roommates game! But in reality I was surprised, because when I’d suggested it to Sonnet, she hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic. “What did you find out?”

  “Haley brought a stuffed pink moose to the hotel. Named Peanut.”

  “Omigod, really?” I squealed. “Like, to sleep with?”

  Sonnet made a shhh finger. “I think so. I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s awesome. Well, nice work, Agent Sonnet.”

  I was so relieved, I almost gave her a hug. It was stupid of me to doubt her on the bus, wondering if she’d rather be with Haley and all the clonegirls. Sonnet is a true friend! Also a great spy!

  “What about Ava?” she asked as she checked out the lip glosses.

  “You mean spy-wise?” I thought for a second. “Well, her mom hangs up all her clothes for her. And she doesn’t eat sweets.”

  Sonnet frowned. “Really? How come?”

  “Too snobby for sugar, I guess. Also, she has a notebook full of dates and numbers.”

  “Phone numbers?”

  “Just number numbers. Random, apparently. Speaking of which.” I took out my phone and dialed Spider. He didn’t answer, so I texted him: Hey sup, SpiderMan?

  I waited. No answer.

  Sonnet and I went to pay. The cashier was this pimply guy with a ponytail and a vest with a mustard stain. He had a name button: MIKEL. “Class trip?” he asked us.

  “Yep,” I said, as I took my change.

  “Where from?”

  “Greenland. Land of ice and sardines.”

  Sonnet started giggling behind her hand.

  “Huh. Welcome to our nation’s capital.” He said the line like he was programmed by the hotel.

  “So, Mikel, what’s your recommendation for must-do activities?”

  He thought, as if no one had ever asked him this before. “The regular tourist stuff, I guess. The Air and Space Museum is pretty cool. And the National Zoo.”

  “Ooh, does the zoo have seals? Seals eat more sardines than humans do, you know.”

  “Yeah?” He looked unsure.

  “Yes, in Greenland seals are considered gods. Demigods, technically.”

  Sonnet yanked on my shirt.

  “Well, Mikel, nice chatting with you,” I said.

  When we were one step outside the Apothecary Shoppe, Sonnet squealed: “Sardines?”

  I grinned. “Yeah, I know, but I just felt sorry for that guy. Probably no one ever talks to him, and there he is all day long in a stupid outfit, dripping mustard on himself.”

  “Well, it’s his job,” Sonnet argued. “What are you going to do with those Band-Aids?”

  “Not sure yet. I need to ponder.”

  “Maybe you should save them.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Sometime when you have a paper cut.”

  The way she avoided my eyes, I could tell she was embarrassed. Was this more of what she’d said on the bus—how maybe I should have left my treasure box home? And not to keep my precious things safe from Ava—to keep me from wearing them. In public. I’d only met Sonnet about six months ago. Maybe I didn’t know her very well after all.

  “Well, I’m absolutely sure I need these Band-Aids,” I informed her. Then I texted Spider again. Still no answer. What was going on up on Concord?

  “You know, we really should make sure Spider’s okay,” I said.

  Sonnet blinked. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

  Did she really not get this? “Sonnet, he’s not answering his phone, and he always answers when it’s me. Plus, he’s rooming with Marco, remember?”

  “Well, Marco was acting pretty nice on the bus. Can I ask you a question, Tally? Do you think he’s cute?”

  “You mean Marco?”

  Sonnet nodded.

  “Maybe a little,” I admitted, thinking about his green eyes, and also those eyelashes. Also, his wavy brown hair that needed a haircut. “But it’s totally irrelevant.”

  “Why?”

  “Sonnet, don’t you get this? He and Trey bullied Spider—”

  “Okay, but that was last year, right? Don’t you think they’ve outgrown it? And that maybe Spider can handle them on his own?”

  I thought about the way Spider had ignored them on the bus for over six hours. That was pretty impressive, I had to admit. Maybe he’d learned some zoning-out tricks from Dr. Spielvogel.

  “No offense, Tally,” Sonnet was saying, “but sometimes I think you treat Spider like a baby. And he’s really not one, you know?”

  She took a tube of lip gloss out of her bag. I’d been so busy chatting with Mikel that I hadn’t noticed she’d bought the lip gloss, and now she was smearing her lips the color of overripe watermelon.

  “Well, I just want to see him for a second,” I announced.

  “But you can’t, anyway,” Sonnet pointed out. “We’re not allowed on the third floor.”

  “I’ll be invisible. Don’t come if you don’t want to.”

  Sonnet gave a long, exasperated sigh. It made my stomach knot up, but I didn’t say anything.

  We walked across the lobby to the elevator. I pushed three and Sonnet pushed two.

  “This place is ridiculous,” I said. “If they make you say Concord, they should put Concord on the elevator button, not three!”

  “Yeah,” Sonnet said. She sighed again. “All right, fine. I’ll come with you.”

  “You totally don’t have to.”

  “I know.” She rolled her eyes like Nadia. “But let’s just be fast, Tally, okay?”

  The doors opened on two, then closed. On three, as soon as we stepped out of the elevator, there was Mr. G.

  “Hey, wrong floor,” he said, smiling. “Girls are on two, remember?”

  “Oops,” Sonnet said. She’d turned pink, of course. “We were thinking, ‘Wait, is
Lexington two or three?’ and it’s really hard to keep straight, so—”

  “But as long as we’re here, can we say hi to Spider?” I cut in.

  Mr. G frowned. “Tally, come on, you heard the rule. No socializing between the floors.”

  “I know, but—”

  At the end of the hallway, a door opened. Derrick Chen and Nick Burrell came crashing out, following a Nerf ball, laughing their dumb heads off.

  “Hey, guys, hotel behavior,” Mr. G called out.

  “Sorry,” Derrick said. They stared at us, ran back into their room with the ball, and slammed the door.

  “Mr. G, I just want to make sure Spider’s okay,” I murmured. “He’s rooming with someone he despises. And who despises him back.”

  “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it, Tally? I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, but what if . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence. What if what? Marco did the Spider dance? Dumped bugs in Spider’s bed?

  Even though I’d spent practically my whole life protecting my friend from bullies and shovel thieves, I really didn’t believe Marco was capable of those things anymore. Not the Marco who’d apologized for Trey’s obnoxious behavior. Who called me Math Girl in a not-insulting way. And who’d been so interested in Dad’s baking a few hours ago. I mean, to be truthful, the worst thing I could say about Marco lately was that he ignored Spider.

  But Spider was still Spider. And you just never knew how he’d react to things when he was stressed. Even if he was seeing Dr. Spielvogel.

  Mr. G made eye contact, the kind that teachers use when they really, really want you to shut up. “Tally, I personally give you my word. I’m right next door to their room, so if anything’s going on, I’ll be the first to hear it. Although I’m sure nothing will. Okay?”

  I nodded, because basically I had no choice.

  “Good,” Mr. G said, checking his watch. “We’re all meeting in the lobby in fifteen minutes. Why don’t you girls go put on your spirit tees, so when we venture out, we can look like a unified group?”

  “Sure,” Sonnet said quickly. I could see she was relieved to escape.

  “Well, we can definitely try to look that way,” I said.

  Body Type

  WHEN I GOT BACK TO the room, Nadia was sitting on my bed. She was on her phone, typing, and she didn’t even bother to look up at me.

  “Hey, Tally,” she said, still typing. “Ava’s in the shower.”

  “Okay,” I said. Not that I’d asked.

  She finally looked up. “Yeah, she asked me to stay in case they delivered something.”

  “In case who did?”

  “Hotel people. She’d asked them for a scale?”

  “Right,” I said. “She did.”

  “I don’t know why she needs one. She’s like a toothpick.” Nadia flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So here’s a question for you: Why exactly are you wearing suspenders?”

  “Oh, these?” I looked at my chest. “Yeah, I found these at a tag sale. Aren’t they awesome?”

  “ ‘Awesome’ is not the word. Also, they’re orange.”

  “They look orange to you? To me they’re rust. Burnt sienna, possibly.”

  “Well, they’re hideous, whatever you call them. And they do not go with those purple pants. Not that anything does. But I’m guessing you know that.” Nadia yawned, stretching her arms and legs. Finally she stood. “All right, you can wait for Ava’s scale. I’m going back to my room to change.”

  “Mr. G said we’re supposed to wear our T-shirts,” I told her.

  “Uh-huh, I know. And Tally?”

  “Yes?”

  “This time try to wear it the human way.”

  • • •

  You know how sometimes you have a song stuck in your head and you don’t know how it got there? Sometimes it works the same way with memories. And right after Nadia left, for some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about an incredibly fun day at the end of fifth grade, when Dad took Spider and me to an amusement park, and we got drenched on the water rides. Spider stayed over at our house that night; Dad set up a tent for us in the backyard, and we caught fireflies and roasted marshmallows.

  A little while afterward, Mrs. Nevins started inventing reasons we couldn’t hang out after school: Oh, Caleb has a dentist appointment. Sorry, Caleb needs to clean his room. Even if Spider argued about it, she wouldn’t budge. A few months later, when she signed him up for stupid baseball, Mom invited her over to try to get her to change her mind. So of course I eavesdropped outside the kitchen, horrified as I heard Mrs. Nevins saying it was too late, she’d already picked up Caleb’s uniform, and didn’t Mom really think I should be hanging out with girls instead of Caleb? Not just for Caleb’s sake, but for mine, she said.

  When Mom answered that she was perfectly fine with me choosing my own friends, Mrs. Nevins sighed and said Mom didn’t understand about boys, and that raising girls was so much easier.

  Then she added: “Although shopping must be such a challenge. Especially with Tally.”

  Mom’s voice grew sharp as she asked Mrs. Nevins exactly what she meant by that.

  And Mrs. Nevins answered: “Oh, just that Tally’s still a young girl, but she isn’t very . . . little. And some of the cute styles the girls are wearing must look so wrong on her. You know, with her body type.”

  Mom replied with something I couldn’t hear, and then dishes clattered in the sink. I could tell this meant Mom was kicking Mrs. Nevins out, so I ran upstairs to my room before they could notice me.

  That was the first time I’d thought about my “body type.” I mean, I always knew I was bigger and taller than the other kids in my grade, but I didn’t think it meant anything about what clothes I could wear. Or should wear.

  And the whole thing just infuriated me: Mrs. Nevins saying I should hang out with girls, but that I’d be “wrong” to dress like them. Well, who wanted to look like the other girls, anyway, I told myself. I wanted to look like myself, and I wanted that self to be friends with Caleb.

  Although now, in seventh grade, we were in separate classes for most of the day, so being with him had gotten kind of complicated.

  But the weekend Dad took us to the amusement park, nobody said it was weird that we were friends, or that we should hang out with different people. And probably I smiled more in those two days than I’d smiled in my entire life.

  Shampoo

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, WE WERE all in the lobby wearing our lima bean–colored drooling-bulldog tees. Spider was one of the last kids to walk off the elevator, and for a few minutes I actually considered confronting Marco (“All right, what have you done with him?”).

  But finally Spider appeared, looking calm and rested, as if he’d just had a refreshing nap.

  As soon as he got off the elevator, I ran over to him. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I called and texted like fifteen times!”

  “You did?” His eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. I was in the shower.”

  “For an hour and a half?”

  “I shampooed,” he said, as if that explained anything. “Hey, Tally, were you on the third floor looking for me?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Derrick Chen saw you. You shouldn’t do that, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

  Sonnet, who I hadn’t even realized was standing behind me, poked my elbow as if to say: See? I told you so.

  “Well, sorry, Spider,” I said. “It was just because you weren’t answering, and I thought maybe something was wrong with your phone.”

  “My phone? My phone is fine.”

  Something in his voice startled me. It was the first time I’d ever heard it, a hard edge.

  And not knowing how to react to that sound, I just pretended I hadn’t noticed.

  “Okay, good,” I told him. “That’s a relief, then.”

  “All right, folks,” Mr. G was saying. “We’re going to stroll over to the National Mall as a group. As a group. You all know what �
�as a group’ means?”

  “It means no wandering off,” Mrs. Seeley announced. She was in a completely new color-free outfit—pale gray top, pale gray scarf, white visor, big movie-star sunglasses—and carrying a large plastic cup of iced coffee.

  I saw Mr. G and Ms. Jordan exchange a glance, which I suspected was about Mrs. Seeley’s bossiness. Teachers outranked chaperones, but you could tell Mrs. Seeley didn’t know that rule.

  Mr. G smiled. “Yes, exactly. Thank you,. Mrs. Seeley. We have a three-quarters-of-a-mile walk to the mall, and the weather is great, so let’s keep a brisk pace, shall we? ¡Vámanos!”

  Roy stood at the revolving door as we filed out. “Enjoy our nation’s capital,” he said, waving his snake hand. I saluted, but he ignored me.

  Ava, Nadia, Haley, Sydney Brunner, and Shanaya Hayes were the first ones out onto the muggy street, closely followed by Mrs. Seeley. Ms. Jordan and Mr. G stayed with the middle part of the group, along with Mia’s and Althea’s moms, while Sonnet, Spider, and I walked at the back, with Jamal’s dad trailing us like Mr. Mallard in Make Way for Ducklings. But I wasn’t worried about him eavesdropping on us because (a) why would he? and (b) he was wearing earbuds.

  “So, how’s it going with Marco?” I asked Spider, as if the question had just then occurred to me.

  He shrugged. “Fine. He was in Trey’s room the whole time.”

  “Well, that’s good, right? That way he can’t bother you.”

  “He isn’t bothering me, actually.”

  “Awesome,” I said enthusiastically. “And did you notice anything?”

  “How could I? He wasn’t there.”

  “But did you, you know, take advantage of the opportunity?” Since we were in public, I didn’t want to specify what I meant, but it had to be obvious: the spy game. If Spider was actually playing.

  “Tally, I told you, I was in the shower.” Then Spider’s face brightened. “But I did see what he left in the bathroom: baby shampoo.”

  “Baby shampoo? Oh, that’s adorable!” Sonnet started giggling.

  Adorable? I gave her a look.

  “We’re getting awesome data,” I said, glancing behind to make sure Jamal’s dad still couldn’t hear us. “Haley brought a pink stuffed moose, and Ava doesn’t eat sweets. And she keeps a notebook full of numbers.”