Cloudy with a Chance of Boys Part 11

I yanked off the LIFE'S A BEACH s.h.i.+rt I wear to sleep in, unfolded the other, and pulled it over my head. What was I doing?

I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see it in the bathroom mirror. But what if Alex came back and found me out? I pulled my fuzzy robe off the hook and put it on over the s.h.i.+rt, dashed down the hall into the bathroom, and locked the door.

I took off the robe. Turned on the light. Stared at myself in the mirror.

The Girl in Black.

A basket of tub toys from when we were little still sat on the corner shelf over the radiator. Purple hippo. Toy boat. Mostly Joey's old rubber ducky collection. It seemed like forever ago since Joey and I had taken baths, drawing with crayons on the tub walls.

An army of blue, green, and red devil duckies with horns stared at me accusingly.

"What are you looking at?" I said aloud. "I should have burned you in the fire," I told the red one. So there.

I tugged at my hair, brushed my bangs down almost over my eyes. I turned to the left, turned to the right, looking at myself from every angle - front, side, other side. I made pouty-lips. I made a tough-girl face.

I hardly recognized myself.

Who was this girl who stared back at me in the bluish bright light of the bathroom?

Is this what it felt like to try out for a role in a play, to get to be somebody else? To imagine yourself as other than what you were?

Is this what it felt like to be Alex?

To be grown up? A teenager? Someone who liked boys?

My pulse quickened. I felt secret and alone. I felt a little bit daring, like the kind of girl you'd find in Bad-Girl Detention.

A knock on the bathroom door made me jump out of my skin.

"Stevie? Are you in there? Can you come out so I can ask you a question?"

Holy tamale! Mom!

I cast around, looking for my robe, threw it back on over the s.h.i.+rt, tied the belt, and opened the door.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Stevie? What are you wearing?" Mom asked pointedly.

I clasped the collar of the bathrobe together with one hand. What . . . how . . . Had she seen?

"Honey, are you sure everything's okay? What are you doing in your bathrobe in the middle of the day? It's almost one o'clock. Don't you want to go over to the theater with the others? What's Olivia doing today?"

"Mom - you had a question?"

"How many eggs do you think I should use to hold the crust together?"

"How about if I come down and help you?" I suggested sweetly. "Just give me two minutes."

One minute to put the s.h.i.+rt back where it belonged. Hidden. Safe.

And one minute to come back to being Stevie again.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of Mr. Petry's cla.s.sroom, casting the whole room in a curious yellow. It had been suns.h.i.+ny now for three days in a row, but I still felt myself squinting in the bright light after so many days of gloom. Mom said this morning it was like breaking free of a d.i.c.kens novel.

On Thursday, Earth Science was half over when Mr. Petry pulled a fast one. Pa.s.sing out worksheets on the scientific method, he said, "For the remainder of cla.s.s, I want you to buddy up with your partner. You have ten or fifteen minutes to discuss your weather experiments."

Moans and groans rippled through the cla.s.sroom.

"Start with your question, form a hypothesis, and fill in the worksheet. What's your best guess as to the outcome? Don't forget to add sections on gathering materials, observations, and data. Projects are due next week, people."

Wire Rims dragged his chair over to my desk, sitting a little too close. He had on a gray thermal under a black s.h.i.+rt with a troll doll(!) on it.

We hunched over the worksheet. "So, what's our hypothesis?" Why are you wearing a troll doll s.h.i.+rt? How weird is that? "We have to think up a question that we're going to answer."

"Okay, well, we're going to do the cloud thing, right? The one I told you about that we did at my old school? We use ice and hot water and poof! It forms a cloud. It's really cool. And it'll be super easy since I've done it before." He glanced up front to make sure Mr. Petry didn't hear that part.

"Ice and water," I said, writing it under "Gather Materials."

"Write that down. Under 'Gather Materials.'"

"Very funny," I told him. He leaned back, looking pleased with himself. "Okay. Hypothesis . . . What makes a cloud form? How does a cloud form? What are the conditions that bring about a cloud?"

"Hypothesis: You like that band the Notebooks," he said.

"Huh? h.e.l.lo. This isn't music cla.s.s."

"But you're into them, aren't you? Am I right or am I right? Just say it. You're into the Notebooks."

"Okay. I'm into the Notebooks. The science notebooks," I said, jabbing the worksheet with my pencil.

Observation: Wire Rims was not taking this project seriously.

"Are you into their new song - what's it called? 'Honey Strange.' Or is it 'Honey Stranger'?"

"You're strange. And getting stranger by the second."

"I just thought - their lead singer, Chloe Sevilla, has that cool haircut. Short, you know, with bangs in her eyes. Kinda like yours."

My hand shot up to my hair. "Trust me, this short hair was not on purpose. Long story."

"I'd like to hear it sometime."

Secretly I liked that he wanted to hear my hair-disaster story. But that would have to wait for later. "Can we please stop talking about my hair? We still don't have a hypothesis."

"No biggie. I told you, I got it covered. Piece of cake."

"So I should write 'piece of cake'?" I teased. "Where exactly do you want me to put that?"

"Ha, ha. What other bands are you into? Me, I'm into everything from old-school Beatles and Dylan to indie bands like the Troll Dolls and Furious Yellow."

"Hey, Wire Rims. Can we focus here? Before Mr. Petry turns furious yellow."

Wire Rims cracked up. "Hey, that's funny."

I couldn't help grinning. "Shh. Do you want to end up in detention again?"

"Might not be so bad."

"Let's talk about materials," I said for the benefit of Mr. Petry. "What else, besides water and ice?"

Mr. Petry moved on to the next row.

"I'm way into music." Wire Rims drummed a beat on top of my desk. "Okay, this is so cool. For my report, you know, the cloud identification thing? I'm even identifying how many times the word 'cloud' appears in certain music, like Dylan. And if I have time, I'll do rain, thunder, and lightning, too."

"How'd you think of that? That sounds cool! But we haven't even filled out -" The bell rang before I could finish my sentence. "Saved by the bell," I said. "So, what time on Sat.u.r.day? And where do you want to meet? The library?"

"No way can we do this at the library! I mean, there's ice, and we have to use hot water and stuff. I know. You can come to my house. It's not that far from the school. You turn at that pink house that used to be a video store."

No way was I going over to his house! Too weird. "Look. You know where the Raven Theater is, right off Main Street South? I live right next door. Why don't you just meet me there? It'll be easier."

"I'll bring ice. You bring water," he said, smiling and showing off a crooked front tooth.

"How about if I bring water and you bring ice?"

"Wait," he said, shaking his head. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Gotcha." Now it was my turn to smile.

Draw Conclusions: Cloudy, with a chance of flunking Earth Science.

GOT FOG?.

Starring Alex SETTING: ALEX'S ROOM, THE NEXT AFTERNOON.

Me: Joey, you have to go over there again. You heard them yesterday. Mr. Cannon is going to make them do the same scene today. And they're going to have to get it right. That means they're going to kiss . . . more than once. You have to stop them!

Joey: No way, nah-uh, not me.

Me: Stevie?

Stevie: (Imitates Joey.) No way, no how, nah-uh.

Me: (Wails.) C'mon, you guys. You have to help me. When have I ever asked you for anything?

Joey and Stevie: (At same time.) Yesterday.

Stevie: Alex, what is the big deal? So they kiss. It's just a play. They're acting.

Me: Yeah, acting like they like each other. At first, you're just pretending, then, boom, you're in love.

Stevie: Just go over there. So what if you're not in the play. You can't hide up here forever. Joey and I are going to take the baby monitor away, aren't we, Joey? (Signals to Joey to grab it.) Me: You can't. (Grabs it back.) Okay, I'll go, but - Joey: Dad's over there. Just say he needs some help with props.

Me: Thank you.

Stevie: Go. Remember, we'll be right here! (Shakes baby monitor in air.) Me: (Runs out door and across to Raven Theater. Enters through back door.) Mr. Cannon: Hi, stranger! What do you think of our new digs? (Gestures all around theater.) Jayden: (Under her breath, but still heard.) What's she doing here? I thought she was too good for us now.

Scott: Alex!

Allen/Alvin: Hi, Alex.

Conrad/Matt/Brianna: Hey, Alex.

Me: My dad told me you guys were rehearsing here. Sorry to hear about the school theater flooding and everything.

Matt: This place is cool.

Mr. Cannon: (A little too cheery.) Well, sure was great of your dad to let us use the s.p.a.ce. And I was hoping we'd run into you. We miss seeing you at Drama Club.

Me: Um, yeah, thanks, me too, but . . . don't let me interrupt. I'm not staying or anything. It's just, my dad asked me to come over and look over some props. Help figure out what we're missing and everything. You know.

Jayden: Yeah, right.

Mr. Cannon: That's great, Alex.

Me: So, just forget I'm here.

Jayden: (Mutters.) That shouldn't be hard.

Scott: (Glares at Jayden.) Me: I'll be in the back. I'll try not to make noise. I know you guys must have a lot to do. (Looks directly at Jayden.) Allen/Alvin: Sure do.

Me: I mean a lot of work. Practice. I know. I get it. (Stop talking now!) Mr. Cannon: (Claps hands.) Okay, people. Can I have Romeo, Juliet, Nurse, Benvolio, and a Capulet. Front and center. Let's. .h.i.t it. I want to get through Act One today. Juliet!

Jayden: My only love sprung from my only hate.

Scott: That's not even the line, Mr. Cannon.

Mr. Cannon: Juliet, take it from "Good pilgrim."

Jayden: Fine. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much.

Mr. Cannon: With expression.

Me: (Listens from behind the curtain.) Scott: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?

Me: (Whispers into monitor.) Hey, guys. It's me. Alex. We forgot one thing. I'm over here, but, I mean, how do I keep the kiss from happening? (Oh, yeah, they can hear me, but I can't hear them.) They're doing the scene! Close your ears, Joey. It's coming up in, like, two seconds. (Rummages through props. Looks around backstage. Ladder. Fan. Guitar. Maybe I can drop something, make a loud crash. Aren't there any trash cans back here? Chairs?) Scott: O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.

Me: (Eyes land on fog machine.) Hey, guys. I have a great idea. (Hurry up! Plug it in! Aim nozzle of hose through gap in curtain. Wait for Scott to say "prayer's effect I take.") Scott: Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.