Sundae My Prince Will Come Page 9

  “He does?” I asked.

  “He says she’s clever, and funny. And … how did he say it? Oh yes. He said she has an adorable laugh.”

  “Adorable,” I repeated. “Huh.” Had Ethan ever called me adorable? I thought back. He’d called me driven and single-minded, both of which I’d taken as great compliments. But adorable? Nope. What qualities did Ethan find adorable, and why didn’t I know what they were? “Well, if she’s that adorable, I’ll bet you’ll have a great time with her.” I meant it kindly, but it came out monotone.

  Lanz shrugged. “It’s a new experience, and I’ll be with friends. This will make it a great time.” He gestured to my phone. “You should text Ethan. He’ll want to hear from you.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” Disappointment washed over me. I needed to get back to Ethan, but I wasn’t ready for Lanz to leave. I couldn’t ask him to stay, though. That would be too weird. And maybe even wrong?

  Lanz stood to leave, and I stood, too, almost tipping the bowl of water. “Lanz, wait! You were going to tell me something before. What was it?”

  He met my gaze and smiled. It wasn’t his usual carefree smile, but one that was serious. “Only that … I thank you for your help with my English. And that I admire your …” He paused to contemplate the right word. “Ambition. It impresses me.”

  “Don’t be impressed,” I said. “If I get a part in Cinderella, then that will be something.”

  His smile shifted from serious to a little sad. “My mother used to say things like that. ‘If I can dance in a company, then that will be something. If I can be a prima ballerina, then that will be something.’ ” He shook his head. “My father couldn’t understand it.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “He said that life is full of tremendous moments disguised as ordinary ones. That you don’t need to be great to live a great life.”

  “And you agree with him.”

  “I think you have to balance drive with joyfulness.” In an instant, his sober expression was replaced with a mischievous one. “And so, tomorrow, Malie Analu, you will make time for a little joy?”

  I smiled. “I will.”

  I popped a piece of cotton candy into my mouth and watched as Tilly picked up another empty popcorn container from the ground. Long lines always kept Tilly busy, because she had so much time to notice the litter.

  “You can’t pick up every piece of trash, Till,” I said over the shrieking coming from the Tilt-A-Whirl. The school carnival stretched down the length of the pier, a parade of colored lights and music. It was brilliant in its chaos and vibrancy. The lines for the rides, though, were endless.

  “I can.” Tilly mock-glared at me. “I will.”

  Andres grabbed her waist and spun her around, making her dissolve into giggles. They kissed, and I turned back to Ethan, Eve, and Lanz. I never felt like an outsider around Andres and Tilly, even though sometimes I could swear they were speaking some language of love that was completely foreign to me. Tonight, though, things felt different.

  Lanz, Eve, Ethan, and I made an awkward foursome on the outskirts of Tilly and Andres’s seamless couplehood.

  “They’re so good together,” Eve remarked, looking shy.

  “They always have been,” I said. “Right, Ethan?” I turned to Ethan, but he had his head bent over his phone. “Ethan?”

  “Huh?” He blinked, like he was waking up from a dream. “Sorry. What?”

  I held back a sigh. This was how the entire night had gone so far. Lanz, who was usually so chatty and comfortable, was strangely quiet around Eve. I felt oddly buoyed by the fact that they weren’t hitting it off, and then guilty that I seemed to want their date to fail. It didn’t help that Ethan, all the while, had stayed firmly focused on his phone.

  Now he smiled apologetically. “I was just rereading my invention log. It has to be ready for the judges by next week.”

  “But I’m off work,” I gently reminded him. “I’m at the carnival for the first time ever. Maybe the invention log can wait?”

  He hesitated, then smiled. “You’re right. It’s gone as of now—”

  “Ethan, wait,” Eve piped up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if I could see your log. I’ve been having trouble with mine. I’d love to see how yours is coming together.”

  “Really?” His eyes brightened. If his face hadn’t been cast in the shadow of the Tilt-A-Whirl, I swear I might’ve seen him blushing. “If you really want to …” He glanced at me, then added, “It’ll just be a minute, Mal. I’ll put the phone away afterward. Promise.”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond before he and Eve bent their heads over his phone, lost in some science lingo that only they could understand. They stayed like that until it was finally our turn for the Tilt-A-Whirl.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?” Ethan asked me as we slid into our neon-orange egg-shaped car for the ride.

  “Yeah, very sweet. But I’m not sure she and Lanz have much in common.” I craned my neck to get a glimpse of them on their shared Tilt-A-Whirl seat. They sat with a generous space between them. Both of them were smiling politely, like they were trying to be good sports. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if they end up not being into each other. Right?”

  “Right,” Ethan seconded. “Lanz isn’t much of a science guy, I guess.”

  “Nope. And she certainly seems into science.”

  “She lives for it!” Ethan nodded. “Her invention is brilliant, actually. Way more impressive than mine. If she makes it to the national convention, it’ll be a blast to go with her.” He stopped, then added, “I mean, just to hang out with another kid from our school there, you know?”

  I studied his face. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so enthusiastic about anything other than science before. Lit up from the inside out. That was how he looked. A sudden thought struck me: Does Ethan look like that when he thinks about me? When he talks about me to his friends in science lab?

  Then the ride started, the world whirled, and the thought slipped away into the streams of light spinning around us.

  I gripped Ethan’s arm, burying my head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me. I waited to feel an electric rush, but nothing happened except a dizzying headache.

  When the ride finished, I climbed out of our car unsteadily and with the bland sensation of being let down, although by what, exactly, I couldn’t say. Tilly and Andres were waiting for us, Tilly rolling her eyes at Andres as he pretended to be so dizzy that he had to cling to her for support. Lanz and Eve stood a polite distance apart, quiet and awkward. Eve looked pale, and I wondered if all that spinning had been too much for her.

  We bought more cotton candy, then walked to the fun house, which was Andres’s favorite.

  “You just like to check out your biceps in the hall of mirrors,” Tilly teased him.

  “How do you know I’m not admiring you?” Andres retorted. “Instead of one Tilly, there are dozens.”

  She made a face, but I could tell she was pleased by what he’d said.

  We walked into the fun house, navigating a crooked floor, a maze of doors, and an optical illusion room. Andres and Tilly went up ahead, and Eve and I fell into step beside each other as we entered a narrow corridor of revolving barrels. I leapt lightly over the barrels, but Eve stumbled until we reached the other side. Then she closed her eyes and leaned on the wall.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She pressed her hands against the wall for support. “I need some fresh air. That spinning ride …”

  I peered down the next corridor. “There’s only the hall of mirrors left to go. Can you make it?”

  She glanced back at Lanz and Ethan, who were a few steps behind us.

  “Let’s go,” Eve said. “I don’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.” She stepped into the corridor of seemingly endless mirrors. I followed with the guys close behind, but within seconds, everyone’s reflections fractured into a hundred different ones. I turned a slow circle, sure that
I’d be able to pick out which Ethan, Eve, or Lanz was real and which was a mirror image. Every face I saw was distorted—too far away, too close—too squat, too long. Then every face disappeared in the mirrors but my own.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Ethan? Lanz?”

  No answer came.

  I tried to get my bearings, then reached out, but my hands only met cold, hard glass. Suddenly, I felt trapped. I walked faster, bumping into mirrored corners, searching for the exit, and then shrieked when I backed into someone. I spun, colliding foreheads with the stranger.

  “Malie,” a familiar voice whispered. “It’s me.” Lanz’s breath was warm against my ear; his hands rested on my waist. I felt an electric zing. “Are you all right?”

  “Y-yes.” Lanz’s eyes were so near that I could see the subtle shift his irises made from chestnut centers to oaken rims, light to dark. The mirrors around us blurred into a diamond-white shimmer. I’d wanted to leave the corridor seconds before. Now all I could think of was lingering, just to be near him.

  “We thought you were outside already,” Lanz said softly. “I would’ve stayed behind if I’d known. Or Ethan would’ve, I’m sure …”

  Ethan. Flustered, I stepped back. “Eve wasn’t feeling well,” I said. “I was with her, but—”

  Lanz nodded. “She got lost in the mirrors, too. We all did. But Ethan’s outside with her now, getting her some ginger ale.” He offered me his hand. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded, but didn’t take his hand. The same lightning bolt might strike again, and then what? Then … nothing. He was supposed to be with Eve. I was supposed to be with Ethan. That was all there was to it. “Thanks. I’m fine now.”

  His hand dropped to his side as a fleeting disappointment crossed his features. But no … it had to be a trick of the light. We left the fun house in silence, but Lanz glanced in my direction every few seconds. I didn’t know if he was making sure I was okay, or if he was trying to puzzle through what I was thinking. Either way, I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  We found Ethan and Eve sitting side by side on the beach near the pier, watching the waves break on the moonlit water. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought they were a couple. When Ethan heard us, he leapt up, tripping over his feet to get to me.

  “Mal, what happened? We were in the hall of mirrors, and then you were gone.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “Just got turned around in there, that’s all.”

  Eve glanced up at me apologetically as she sipped her soda.

  “Tilly and Andres are riding the Ferris wheel,” Ethan said. “Eve’s not up for it.”

  “I’m sorry, but I need to go home,” Eve said. “My mom’s picking me up. She’ll be waiting in the pier parking lot.”

  “I’ll walk you to the car.” Lanz offered her the very hand that mere minutes before he’d offered to me. I felt a pang of jealousy as Eve gratefully slid her hand into his. But, I reminded myself, I already had a boyfriend. A very nice boyfriend.

  As Lanz and Eve walked toward the parking lot, Ethan and I watched them go in silence.

  “We could catch up with Tilly and Andres,” he offered. “Ride a few more rides?”

  But I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Mine wasn’t, either. How many times had I wished in years past that I could come to this carnival instead of working at it? Now I was here, but this night wasn’t anything like I’d imagined it would be.

  “Why don’t you go ahead?” I said to him. “The hall of mirrors did me in, too.” I wanted a break. From the rides and—yes—even though I felt awful admitting it to myself, from Ethan.

  Ethan shook his head. “I’ve only got two more days before the convention, and I need to add some final touches to my display.” He hugged me, then brushed my lips in a light kiss. There was no bolt of electricity. The memory of Lanz’s hand on my waist swept my breath away, and I stepped back from Ethan.

  “So you’re going home?” he asked.

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts yet. Not when I couldn’t make sense of them. So I said the first thing that popped into my head, the one thing that I wouldn’t have said in a million years unless I’d been such an emotional mess that I couldn’t see any other solution. “I think I’ll see if Mom needs help at the ice cream booth.”

  I glanced at my nightstand clock. It was past eleven, and I couldn’t fall asleep. After I’d helped Mom take down the ice cream booth, we’d come back home and Mom had gone straight to bed. I’d been too wired, so I FaceTimed with Dad. It was late afternoon in Oahu and he was selling his paintings. He held up his latest pieces for me to see, and, when he asked about Once upon a Scoop, I told him that business was booming. Maybe it was out of loyalty to Mom, but I felt the need to tell Dad how great she was doing.

  “What about ballet?” he asked. “Are you hanging in there without it?”

  My stomach clenched. I wasn’t a daughter who snuck behind my parents’ backs. Ever. And yet … here I was, lying to both of them.

  “Maybe I’ll still get a chance to dance again someday,” I said vaguely.

  Dad nodded. “You will. I’m sure of it.”

  We ended our FaceTime session when Dad was approached by a customer. I hung up wondering if all kids of divorce tiptoed around certain touchy subjects like I did. I found myself wanting to ask Lanz about it, which threw me right back into emotional shambles. I pressed my face into my pillow, letting out a muffled scream of frustration.

  When my cell vibrated, I grabbed it, filled with a completely illogical hope that it might be Lanz. It was a text from Tilly:

  I fidgeted in my bed. I wanted to talk to her about Lanz, but what if she reacted badly? I thought back to when Ethan and I had first become a couple. Tilly had practically commandeered our relationship, playing matchmaker so that our foursome could stay intact. For the first time ever, I censored what I told my best friend.

  I frowned at the screen.

  My stomach lurched, and I sank back onto the bed.

  I’d been staring at the screen, dumbfounded. I recovered enough to type a quick note to Tilly.

  I turned off my phone and lay in the dark, picturing Lanz and Eve kissing. It was better this way, I told myself. Less complicated. I’d stay with Ethan, Lanz would go out with Eve, and all of us would be friends, without anyone’s feelings getting hurt. Besides, I had my Cinderella audition on Wednesday. Nothing—especially not some crazy unrealistic crush I’d conjured in my mind—was going to distract me.

  Waiting in the hall of the conservatory, dressed in my leotard, tights, and pointe shoes, I leaned forward into a deep stretch. With my forehead touching my right knee, I hoped to give off the impression of being focused. But I was hyper-aware of the other dancers in line with me. We were all there to audition for Cinderella.

  Some girls chatted excitedly, while others’ faces were pinched with concentration, or even nausea. I could relate, especially when I saw Violet breezing through the door, smiling and nodding to the other dancers like a queen nodding to her court.

  “I have to be someplace by four,” she was saying to the girls at the back of the line. “Would you mind if I just … ?” Before anyone could complain or even answer, Violet glided to the front of the line, until she stood directly behind me.

  “Malie.” She nodded hello. “You must be so nervous.”

  I gave her my best nonchalant smile, then glanced at the glass doors leading to Main Street. I scanned the sidewalk for Ethan. He’d promised he’d be here. Where was he?

  “I’ll come as soon as the list of kids moving on to the National Invention Convention is posted,” he’d said. He’d been talking about “the List” since Monday’s Invention Convention, when he’d presented his lifesaving surfboard to the judges. I’d snapped the pic of him and Eve holding their ribbons (they’d tied for first place). But no sooner had he taken down his trifold display than he refocused on making it to nationals. I wasn’t surprised. This was how it was every year. Only this year, I h
ad this huge chance with the Cinderella audition, and I secretly wanted him to make a big deal out of it. My head understood the unspoken deal we had—that both of us would understand each other’s focus on our goals. But my heart? These days, my heart didn’t know what to feel. It had been in a dizzying pirouette since the carnival. I wasn’t the only one noticing, either. So far this week, Tilly had ribbed me at least a dozen times between classes or at lunch.

  “Is it the audition?” she’d asked, then added as a side note to Andres, “I told you someday she’d snap under the pressure.”

  It wasn’t only the audition. I couldn’t admit to her how often since the carnival I’d caught myself daydreaming about Lanz. How often I’d scanned the hallways for a glimpse of him with Eve. I’d seen them walking together a few times, and my stomach had turned to a block of ice. Lanz still ate lunch with us, and I saw him at Once upon a Scoop, but lately he was quiet and distracted, not at all his chatty, exuberant self.

  I glanced out the conservatory door again. No sign of Ethan, and I was next in line to audition. Violet’s appearance wasn’t doing anything to calm me, either. Come on, I told myself, get it together.

  “Being nervous helps me,” I said to her.

  Her laugh was a tinkling bell, too practiced to be real. “I used to get nervous, too. Back when I was starting out. If this doesn’t work out for you, there’ll be so many other chances. Remember that.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Thanks,” I said, vowing not to let her pretenses unhinge me.

  “Malie Analu?” A woman was holding the studio door open. “You’re up.”

  After one final glance toward the empty sidewalk, I stepped into the studio. My heart struck walloping beats against my ribs. I took in the five poker-faced judges seated at a long table. Only Signora Benucci gave me the slightest hint of a smile.