Boy Trouble Page 8

  Emma sat up straight in her bed—so that was where she got her determination from! “Tell me more,” she pleaded.

  “The first time we met, we were walking in opposite directions across the quad. I was wearing this red sundress with black polka dots that I loved. He stopped me and told me I looked like a watermelon—which I didn’t find funny at all. But he asked one of my friends my name and my dorm, and then he showed up the next day to apologize holding a giant watermelon with a bow on it.”

  Emma giggled. “That is pretty funny. Most guys would bring flowers or chocolates.”

  “Your dad never did anything most guys did. He once took me on a date to a supermarket.”

  “A supermarket? Why?” Emma asked, drying her tears.

  “We were having this debate over which cereal was better, Lucky Charms or Rice Krispies.”

  “Lucky Charms of course!” Emma said. “All those yummy little marshmallows.”

  “That’s what your father thought, but I liked how Rice Krispies always snapped, crackled, and popped when you poured milk on them. So he took me grocery shopping to buy both. Then we had a taste test.”

  “Was he right?”

  “Well, Lucky Charms became my favorite cereal,” Mrs. Woods admitted. “And your dad became my boyfriend.”

  “So you’re saying that it was Dad’s sense of fun that made you fall for him?” Emma asked.

  “That was part of it, for sure,” her mom replied. “I guess what I loved is how he always spoke his mind and his heart. He never tried too hard to impress me. He was just, well, your dad, and one of the realest boys I’d ever met.”

  Emma considered. “So, if he had come right out and asked you to, oh, I don’t know, go with him to a school dance, you would have said yes?”

  “Once I got to know him, I knew he was the one for me. So yes, I would have gone with him to every dance—which I did. And I would have married him—which I also did.”

  “Did you have a fancy proposal? A poster with glitter?”

  Mrs. Woods laughed. “Emma, your father proposed to me over a bowl of Lucky Charms! He hid the ring in the cereal—I could have swallowed it. But it was sweet and simple and very us. It was all I needed to know I wanted to be Mrs. Peter Woods.”

  Emma nodded. So maybe Jax was right. Maybe she had gone too far by advising Harriet to dress up like Supergirl and Izzy to fake losing the race. Maybe Jax didn’t need or want all of that. Maybe all she had to do was just go up to him and say the words. . . .

  “Try and get some sleep,” her mom said, tucking her in. “No more nightmares. Just sweet dreams sprinkled with Lucky Charms marshmallows.”

  Emma yawned. If it worked for her mom and dad all those years ago, could it work for her and Jax, too?

  Emma arrived at school extra early the next morning—she wanted to be at the lockers before Jax arrived, calm, collected, and ready to ask him to the dance. But, as soon as she saw him walking down the hallway toward her, her heart began to pound and her palms got all sweaty.

  “Hey, Jax,” she said meekly.

  “Hey, Emma,” he replied. “Something I can help you with?”

  “Actually, you already did.” She took a deep breath. “You know how yesterday you told me that sometimes I get carried away and complicate things? Well, you were right. So I’m just gonna keep this short, sweet, and to the point: Jax, will you go to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with me?”

  There was a long silence as Jax stood there looking stunned.

  “Um, hello?” Emma hadn’t expected this reaction. He was completely speechless. “Did you hear what I just said? I asked you to the dance with me.”

  “I know, I know,” Jax said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He didn’t look excited or happy; in fact, the color had drained from his face completely. “Emma, I would have loved to have gone with you. But someone already asked me yesterday after school—and I said yes. I’m so sorry!”

  Emma didn’t know whether to scream or burst into tears. “What? How could you?”

  “Well, you didn’t seem interested in asking me. You were helping everybody else with their proposals, and you have hardly even talked to me since our argument. I figured I was the last person you wanted to go with.”

  “Jax, it was so obvious I wanted to ask you!”

  “Really?” Now he sounded hurt. “You wrote in your blog how you felt about me for everyone to read. You made me sound like a real jerk.”

  Emma vaguely recalled the first post she wrote at the start of all the Sadie Hawkins hysteria: “If a boy were going to reject me, I would hope he would do it politely and compassionately, not simply ice me out of his life with little or no explanation.”

  “Well, you did ice me out. You were really cold after we got back from DC,” she tried to defend herself.

  “I was really stressed with schoolwork, and okay, maybe a little scared to go out with you.”

  “Why?” Emma cried. “Why would you be scared of me?”

  “Because sometimes you’re a little intense, Emma. You’re really smart and clever, and despite the obstacles, you always make good things happen. But I don’t know if I can keep up with you. Sometimes I feel like you want me to be someone perfect, and I don’t know if you actually like me for me.”

  Emma’s scowl softened. “Jax, I think you’re awesome, too. And we don’t have to keep up with each other. We kinda make each other better.”

  Then she remembered he had said no—and disappointment washed over her. “Why couldn’t you wait till I asked you?”

  “The dance is only a week away, and Jordie asked really nicely. She gave me a dozen roses and everything.”

  Emma gasped. “Jordie? You’re going with Jordie?” Of all the girls at Austen it had to be her?

  “Emma, I would much rather go with you, but I can’t take it back and hurt Jordie’s feelings. That would be really mean.”

  Jax was right—he couldn’t do that. Which is why she needed to come up with a scheme, just one more time, to find Jordie her perfect date for the dance.

  “I know I said I was done fibbing and plotting,” she began. “But it’s the only way to get Jordie to un-ask you to the dance so we can go together.”

  Jax raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do we get her to do that?”

  Emma was stumped. How could she get Jordie to change her mind about Jax in a way that wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. “I’ve got it!” Emma grinned. “Whenever our dog, Jagger, steals something out of the trash can, the only way to get him to drop it is to dangle something better in front of his nose. Like a treat or a toy.”

  “Wait, am I a piece of garbage in this analogy?” Jax asked, laughing.

  “You’re missing the point! We just need to dangle something better in front of her. Someone Jordie likes more.” Then again, there weren’t many boys at Austen who made Jordie’s heart do backflips. “I don’t suppose you have Noah Centineo’s email?” she asked Jax.

  Jax rolled his eyes.

  “Okay,” Emma said. “I’ll just have to find someone that Jordie doesn’t know she likes yet who likes her.”

  Suddenly, Winston walked by, avoiding her gaze. She knew the whole Harriet falling-from-the-sky fiasco had probably scared him off. But maybe, just maybe . . . Emma took a good hard look at him: He did have nice green eyes under those Harry Potter glasses. And if he actually brushed his hair and tucked in his shirt, he was kinda cute.

  “Winston,” Emma began. “Can I talk to you a sec?”

  Winston gulped. “Oh, no. I am not rigging up the harness and flying someone over the stage again. I can’t, Emma. That was an epic fail.”

  “Forget about the flying,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I just need you to help me find some old videos of Peter Pan from sixth grade—and maybe arrange a private screening in the auditorium. Leave everything else to me.”

  It was that last part that Winston hated—it meant he was in for more than he bargained for. “Emma, not again . . .”

  Em
ma remembered a Shakespeare quote she had stumbled upon when searching for one for Ms. Bates’s secret admirer note. She recited to both boys:

  “‘It is not in our stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.’”

  Winston scratched his head. “What the heck does that mean?”

  Emma grinned. “Trust me!”

  Emma knew that if she was going to make this work, it would take a village—or at least an entire show choir. She recruited several members of their club and asked them for a favor—a big favor—all in the name of romance. With the proper mood and setting, she would then dangle the treat under Jordie’s nose. Lyla agreed to help her (since she had saved her from having to dump Ty), and they figured out that the lockers before gym class would be the best place for them to corner Jordie.

  “So, do you think you’ll star in the seventh-grade musical this year?” Lyla asked Jordie as they got ready for PE class.

  “Of course!” she replied with a wave of her hand. “Once a star, always a star.”

  Emma craned her head around the corner of the lockers. It wouldn’t be easy to play into Jordie’s ego, but she had to do it for her and Jax! “So I hear Ms. Otto is planning on doing Cinderella,” she informed them. “Winston told me.”

  “Winston? How would he know?” Jordie said dismissively.

  “Oh, he knows,” Lyla jumped in. “He always knows everything going on behind the scenes.”

  “He told me that he told Ms. Otto he couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you to play a princess,” Emma added.

  Jordie stopped fixing her hair in the mirror. “He said that? About me?”

  “He said no one else could even come close to topping you as Peter Pan last year. And he should know! He was the one who kept the spotlight on you the whole show.”

  It was Lyla’s turn next: “Aw, that’s so sweet! Don’t you think, Jordie?”

  Jordie mulled it over. “Winston? Sweet? I guess I never thought about it.”

  “A boy like that is hard to find,” Emma added. “Someone who thinks you’re beautiful and talented.”

  Jordie’s cheeks flushed. “He said I was talented? And beautiful?”

  “He’s such a romantic!” Emma said, sighing. “I’m sure the girl he goes with to the dance is going to be showered in gifts and flowers.”

  Jordie suddenly snapped out of her trance. “Girl? What girl?”

  “Oh, I can’t say,” Emma continued. “As an advice blogger, I have to protect my client’s privacy.” She remembered her dad once telling her about the oath doctors take. What was it? “I can never break my Hypocritical Oath. I think that’s what it’s called. . . .”

  “If you know who is asking Winston, you have to tell me,” Jordie said, shaking her.

  “But why? Don’t you already have a date to the dance?” Lyla pointed out. “Aren’t you going with Jax?”

  “You’re going with Jax?” Emma pretended to be surprised. “Wow. Good luck with that.”

  “What do you mean? You like him,” Jordie said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Well, maybe I liked him when were on the Student Congress together. But that was before he told me I couldn’t order my favorite flavor of ice cream at Freddy’s. He always wants everything his way, and I don’t want to date a boy who bosses me around.” She didn’t like having to make things up about Jax, but she didn’t see any other options. Jordie had to see that Winston was a better choice.

  “Wait!” Jordie cried. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to go with Jax to the dance.”

  Emma tried hard not to laugh. “Really? Are you sure about that, Jordie? It might hurt Jax’s feelings.”

  “Too bad! I am not going with a boy who’s bossy! I’ll ask Winston and of course he’ll say yes.” She snapped her fingers at Emma and Lyla. “Make it happen. Today.” She slammed her locker shut and stormed off into the gym.

  “Whatever you say, Jordie,” Lyla called after her.

  “Get her to the auditorium right after the last-period bell rings,” Emma instructed her. “I’ll do the rest.”

  Winston had no idea what Emma had up her sleeve. All he knew was that she wanted the huge projection screen set up and ready to go with video highlights from Peter Pan. Now that the last period was over, she had to convince him that Jordie was the girl of his dreams—and she had about ten minutes to do it!

  “Wasn’t Jordie amazing as Peter Pan?” she asked him as they fast-forwarded through the clips.

  Winston blushed. “Well, yeah. I mean, Jordie is amazing in every show she does.”

  “She told me she was so grateful for all you did for the production. She loved your lighting design.”

  Winston pushed his glasses off the tip of his nose. “She did? She said that?”

  “And she told me she felt so safe flying onstage, knowing you had her back.”

  Winston gasped. “Seriously? She noticed me?”

  “Noticed you? How could someone not notice you, Winston? You’re a really nice person, and you hold the whole show together!”

  Winston’s eyes lit up. “Do you think Jordie thinks that? About me?”

  Emma was trying her best not to embellish things too much—Jax had made her see the error of her past ways. “I think she could. If she opened her eyes and saw who you really are.”

  Winston sighed. “No girl has ever liked me before.”

  Emma glanced at the clock on the wall. “Winston, I need you to do me a little favor. Actually, it’s a favor for Jordie. In about five minutes, she’s coming in here to ask you to go with her to the Sadie Hawkins Dance.”

  Winston suddenly looked confused—and terri-fied. “What? What do I do? Where do I go?”

  She escorted him to the center of the stage. “You just pretend you have no idea what I just told you and I’ll run the video. Let Jordie do all the talking and you act surprised.”

  “Surprised? I’m shocked!” Winston cried. “And I don’t like to be the center of attention. That’s why I’m always behind the scenes.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Emma improvised. “Because Jordie loves to be in the spotlight. You stay right there and let her run the show.”

  He had no time to argue—the choir began to file in and take their places onstage behind him.

  “What’s going on here, Emma?” Winston whined. “I don’t like this!”

  Next came Lyla leading Jordie down the aisle to the stage. And Emma noticed Jax sneaking in and taking a seat in the very back of the auditorium to watch her plan unfold.

  Emma signaled the choir to start singing: “It’s not on any chart / You must find it with you heart / Never Neverland . . .”

  “Listen,” Emma cooed in Jordie’s ear. “We got the choir to sing your song and set the mood.”

  She then started the video on the screen: Jordie appeared on it, larger than life, in her Peter Pan costume. She was so mesmerized by her own image, Emma had to gently nudge her and remind her why she was there.

  “Um, Jordie? You wanted us to get Winston here. Remember?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Jordie said. “I was really good as Peter Pan, wasn’t I?”

  Emma looked over at Winston and signaled for him to step forward and speak up.

  “Um, you were great,” he told Jordie, shyly. “A real star.”

  Jordie was about to fire off a quick proposal—but paused. “You think I’m a star?”

  “Um, yes?” Winston replied.

  Jordie actually looked touched—or maybe just a tiny bit smitten?

  “Now would be a really good time to ask something,” Emma prodded her.

  Jordie looked around at the stage full of singers and Lyla and Jax looking on. “I do—but I think I want to do it alone. Show’s over—everyone out!”

  Winston nodded. “Okay, I’ll go then.”

  “Wait! No!” Jordie said, taking him by the hand. “Not you. You stay.”

  Emma hid behind the stage curtain, listening to the conversation unfold.

  “So,�
� Jordie began, “Winston . . .”

  “That’s my name.”

  Jordie frowned. “It’s a nice name, I guess. Maybe a little stuffy. Has anyone ever called you Winnie?”

  “Like Winnie the Pooh?” Winston replied. “Uh, no, not really.”

  “Good! Then, I will! Winnie, do you want to go with me to the Sadie Hawkins Dance?”

  Winston nodded again. “Um, yes.”

  She breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Okay, good! I’ll email you the details of what you should wear and what gifts you should bring me on the night of the dance.” She paused a second and added quietly, “And thanks, by the way, for telling Ms. Otto I would make the perfect princess. That was sweet.”

  Winston smiled nervously—he had no idea what she was talking about, but Jordie had just thanked him and told him he was sweet. “Oh, you’re welcome.”

  Jordie quickly exited the auditorium just as Jax ducked down behind a seat so she wouldn’t spot him still there.

  Emma popped out from behind the curtain. “What just happened?” Winston asked her in disbelief.

  “I got you a date for the dance with Jordie—and you’re gonna have an amazing time, Winnie the Pooh Bear!” Emma told him.

  Winston couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m going to the dance. With Jordie! Wow!”

  Jax raced down the aisle to the stage. “Emma, you did it! You actually did it. That was incredible.”

  It was pretty incredible, if she did say so herself. Things were actually going perfectly! Now, she had the dance in a week to look forward to—with Jax as her date.

  The weatherman called it “a record-breaking nor’easter”—the most rainfall and the strongest winds New Hope, Pennsylvania, had ever seen. All the storm radars indicated it would make landfall on Thursday night—the night of the Sadie Hawkins Dance.

  Principal Bates watched the weather report all day before making her final decision. “I’m afraid we will have to postpone the seventh-grade dance,” Principal Bates informed the students over the loudspeaker Thursday afternoon. Everyone please stay safe and dry tonight. Once the storm passes, we’ll be able to reschedule.”