Revived

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing.”

“Um, yes you are. But no worries. Matt won’t notice.”

Audrey yells upstairs for Matt to meet us in the car, then pushes past me. I follow her to the driveway. Once we’re inside the car but before Matt joins us, I ask Audrey in a whisper: “Why won’t Matt notice me?”

Confused, Audrey stares blankly at me.

“You just said that,” I say. “That Matt won’t notice me blushing.”

“Oh my god, Daisy, don’t be so sensitive!” Audrey says. “I didn’t mean that he won’t notice you. I meant that he hardly notices anything these days. The other day he asked me where his hat was. He was wearing it.”

“Maybe he has something on his mind,” I offer, hoping Audrey will elaborate.

Audrey rolls her eyes. “Don’t we all,” she says. I want to ask what’s on her mind, and about a zillion other questions, but Matt opens the door and climbs in the backseat.

“Hey,” he says when I turn around to look at him. He looks like a model for Levi’s in his perfectly faded jeans and maroon-and-gray-striped hoodie.

“Hi, Matt,” I say back. “I like your sweatshirt.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling a little. “Cool shirt.”

Audrey stifles a laugh and puts the car in reverse.

“Yes, we all look awesome,” she says. “Now let’s go. We’re going to miss the previews.”

I face front in the passenger seat, take a deep breath, and smile to myself. Glancing down at my shirt, I can’t help but give myself props for choosing to wear the cuter outfit. Even if the top button on my jeans is digging into my stomach.

The movie is a comedy, but I don’t laugh much. Instead, I listen to Matt. He only reacts to the smart jokes, not the stupid ones that everyone else seems to find hilarious. But when something strikes him as funny, it’s really hard for me not to smile. His laughter starts low and gets higher the longer it lasts. It’s easy and warm, like his mom’s chocolate-chip cookies, and it makes me want to snuggle up to him. It’s the perfect sound.

In contrast, Audrey’s breath sounds strangely labored. I wonder whether she’s got the flu or something, with the barfing at lunch and everything.

“Do you feel okay?” I whisper in Audrey’s ear.

“Shh,” she says. “I’m watching the movie.”

I look over at Matt and he’s looking at me, and I’m zapped by a jolt of electricity. I conjure up my flirtiest smile, then sit back and resume my popcorn-tub war with Audrey.

After the show we head to the food court because somehow half of the world’s largest container of popcorn simply wasn’t enough for Audrey. Matt and I find a place to sit while Audrey buys pretzel bites. We awkwardly look anywhere but at each other until I can’t take it anymore.

“Do you like Mr. Jefferson?” I ask.

“Yeah, he’s okay,” he says. “You?”

“He seems pretty cool.”

Pause.

“I didn’t tell Audrey that you took her phone,” I say, instantly feeling silly for bringing it up. I doubt he even remembers.

Except that he does.

“I know.”

Matt smiles, mostly with his eyes. Someone at the next table over squeals and, curiously, he turns to see what’s happening. I take the opportunity to examine his profile. His skin is still tanned from summer and is perfectly even except for a tiny scar on his chin and a pen-dot mole near his jawbone. Matt’s neutral expression is borderline dark, but when he looks back at me and smiles again, this time showing off his straight, white teeth, it’s impossible not to feel it. I force myself to look away so I don’t say something stupid, like, You’re gorgeous.

“Thanks for not telling her, though,” Matt says, about the iPhone.

“Of course,” I say. I notice that I’m bouncing my knee under the table, which is something I do only when I’m extremely nervous. “I wonder what’s taking Audrey so long,” I say. Matt shrugs and taps his fingers lightly on the table.

The longer I’m alone with him, the more excitable I get. I pick up a napkin that someone left on the table and start twisting it for something to do with my hands. Then, thankfully, before I origami a crane out of a recycled napkin, Audrey returns.

For one second, at least.

“Crap!” she says as she sits down. “I forgot to fill my soda.” She picks up and waves an empty cup. I notice a little sweat on her forehead even though it’s cool in the mall.

“I’ll do it,” I say, standing quickly. I feel like Matt’s the sun and I need sunglasses: I’m overwhelmed by him and need a moment to calm down. “You eat,” I say to Audrey. “What flavor do you want?”

“Clear,” she says before popping a pretzel bite into her mouth.

“Got it,” I say. I turn and walk back to the fountain-beverage station by the pretzel place and fill Audrey’s paper cup with whatever brand of clear soda they have. I take a deep breath and shake my head at my girlishness as I grab a lid and snap it on, then shove a straw through it. I walk back to the table feeling surprisingly more centered.

“Do I get a tip for that?” I ask Audrey when I’m about five steps away from her.

“You wish!” she says, laughing loudly.

“Fine, then I’ll take it back,” I say, pretending to turn around.

“Give me my drink!” Audrey shouts playfully. Her voice echoes off the walls, up to the skylight. People all over the food court look up from their greasy snacks. An older lady tsks at the scene we’re making; two young girls giggle to themselves.

And that’s when I see her.

Across the food court, Nora Fitzgerald from Frozen Hills is turning in her chair to see what’s going on.

Like a deer who spies a hunter, I bolt. Only when I round the corner of the main part of the mall and duck into one of those side hallways that lead to the creepy walkway behind the stores do I realize that I’m still holding Audrey’s drink. When I’m sure that no one’s followed me, I set it down on the floor and text Audrey.

Daisy: SORRY! But I can explain. Meet me around the corner by Foot Find.

I hit send and wait. Audrey and Matt arrive in minutes.

“You could have just asked for some of my soda, Dais,” Audrey jokes. She picks it up and starts drinking it. “What’s the deal?”

Matt’s standing between me and the main walkway. Instinctively, I stay directly behind him, like he’s my shield. He looks at me funny.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” he says.

More like Nora did, I think to myself.

“I saw a girl from my old school who… uh… hates me,” I say. “Can we just go?”

Matt shrugs and Audrey nods. We make our way toward the movie theater’s parking lot, Audrey chattering about mean girls, me looking over my shoulder for Nora, and Matt eyeing me like he knows I’m lying and wants to ask about the truth.

Thankfully, I catch a break: Matt doesn’t ask.

ten

“It’s only a long weekend,” Mason says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as we barrel down Interstate 29 in the dark.