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  “I’ll go with you.” Emma plunges her almond pretzel into gooey caramel dip. “What time does it start, Gracie?”

  “It’s at four. I could drive.” Gracie was the first of us to turn sixteen. Her driver’s license has opened a whole new world to us. Now that she can drive, we’re no longer completely dependent on parents for transportation. And she’s so responsible, none of our folks mind at all. Emma got her license too, but she’s been grounded from driving indefinitely. As great as it is to ride with Gracie, I can’t wait until I can drive — to have the kind of independence to go anywhere whenever I want.

  “I’ll be at rehearsal,” I say. My brain gears turn. I’d love to watch Noah play. I remember his green eyes shooting invisible lasers into mine across the cafeteria. My heart burns, and a smile creeps up my lips. He must look hot in all that gear. How will I get from the church gym, where we have dance practice, back to the ice rink in time?

  “I’ll come too.” Melissa grins. “It’ll be fun. We could ride our bikes over to the rink after practice. If we cut through the park, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.

  “Right, you don’t want to be there exactly when it starts, Linds.” Raven winks. “That would be too obvious.”

  “Okay, so it’s settled.” Gracie’s silver bangles clang together as she claps her hands. “I’ll pick up Emma and Raven around three forty-five. And you two will meet us after dance team.”

  “I’ll have to check with my mom, but why don’t y’all plan to head back to my house afterward for dinner? She loves having you.” Raven’s shiny black hair swings back and forth as she talks.

  “With Randy, I don’t think we’ll all fit in my car to get back to your house.” Gracie taps her fingers on the table.

  “Randy’s car has a bike rack. He can take me, Lindsey’s and Melissa’s bikes, and whoever else. You don’t want all of Randy’s stinky equipment in your car anyway. It would smell forever. That stuff reeks!”

  “You guys are the best!” I reach out both arms to encompass my friends into a circular group hug.

  “I’m so excited you’re all coming!” Gracie’s face lights up. “Wait until you see how cute those boys look in their gear!”

  “Maybe you can hook us all up with hockey players.” Emma raises her fire engine eyebrows exaggeratedly like Groucho Marx. “I can just hang out in the penalty box and cozy up to some of the players until our dancers arrive.”

  I feel a rush like my entire body is immersed in one of those pedicure whirlpool tubs at the spa, and my heart beats as fast as my masseuse’s hands pounding my back.

  I’m going to be sitting at Noah’s scrimmage with my best friends. We’ll probably be the only people there, and it will be way obvious that we’re scouting players. I don’t want him to know I’m there watching him. What if he doesn’t like me? But I do want him to know I’m interested. What if he does like me?

  “Remember when Peter got a penalty in the last minute last week?” Raven recounts.

  “Yeah, and then we had to play with too few players, and the Bulldogs had a power play and scored in the last minute.”

  “Hey, someone should like Peter!” Raven exclaims.

  “But he’s such a bad boy.” Gracie smiles.

  “Hands off, Melissa,” Emma chastises. “You already have a boyfriend, and bad boys are soooo my type!”

  “Ick!” I scream out loud.

  “What?” Emma and Melissa turn in unison to me.

  “I was just thinking, if I’m coming from practice, I’ll be all sweaty and gross.”

  “You’ve never looked anything but gorgeous, Linds.” Melissa rolls her eyes.

  “You should have seen me in junior high.” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Oh, you were just a tiny bit fabulous then?” Raven mocks.

  “No, truly.” I nod. “I had these rainbow glasses before I got contacts, and I was all bony and pointy everywhere.” We’re all so close. Sometimes I forget my friends haven’t known me very long, well, except Emma.

  “Puh-leeease!” Emma pops the last bite of pretzel in her mouth. “You forgot the braces!” She turns to the others. “She had those awful, thick metal ones and rubber bands going in all directions.”

  Gracie snorts.

  Melissa squints at me as if she’s trying to imagine the ugly Lindsey.

  Raven leans over to Emma. “Do you have pictures? I mean we could post them online . . . maybe send them to Noah!”

  “Ha! Don’t you dare!” I eye Emma. She would do it, to be funny. I hope she knows it would devastate me. I think I’m pretty now, but some days I feel that gawky preteen still inside me. And even though my friends are just teasing, it still hurts a little. “I just might need a few seconds in the girls’ room right after practice, Mel. That’s all.”

  “Sure.” She laughs.

  My mind races through my workout clothes . . . something warm enough to wear at the rink. My gray sweat suit is so comfy, but I need something prettier than that. The outfit assembles itself in my mind: powder blue yoga pants, matching hoodie, white tee, and thick white headband. I need to look drop-dead gorgeous.

  CHAPTER THREE

  You make me sick!” Melissa shakes her head. She’s wearing a men’s XL sweatshirt with her dad’s alma mater tattooed across the chest. She doesn’t have on a trace of makeup, and although her hair is pulled back, the little pieces around her hairline are starting to frizz from sweat. Melissa is adorable. She has enormous green eyes and creamy skin dotted with sweet freckles. She just doesn’t spend enough time primping! A little violet eyeliner on her top lid and a swipe of color on her lips would take her from cute to beautiful. She let me make her over once, but I think she did it just to make me happy.

  I must admit my outfit pulled together perfectly. I actually changed into a fresh T-shirt in the bathroom and planned ahead by wearing waterproof mascara — can’t have smeary eyes! My raspberry ice lip gloss adds just enough color and shine to my lips, without looking overdone.

  “Thanks, Mel.” I wink at her and sling my brown and pink polka-dot gym bag over my shoulder. “You want a little lip gloss?” I ask. “This color looks great on everybody!”

  “No thanks.” Melissa kicks back her kickstand and mounts her bike. “Beau has basketball practice. I don’t have anyone to impress but you. And you’ve already fallen for me — I can tell by the way you cleaned up just for me.”

  Laughing, I pull my sunglasses from my bag. But my jittery hands cause me to stab myself in the eye with one of the tortoiseshell arms. “Ouch!”

  “You okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I nod, sliding my shades into their proper place. “Not really,” I admit. “I’m really nervous about this Noah thing, and I don’t know why.” I climb on my bike and push down on the pedal, wobbling a little, then regaining balance.

  “Seriously, Linds. Don’t freak out about it. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Melissa starts down the asphalt path winding behind her church where we practice due to limited gym availability at school. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know him! It’s just so weird. I’ve only spoken to him once. And it was about four words.” I shake my head. “And it’s not like he’s gorgeous or anything.”

  “He’s pretty cute, Lindsey.”

  “Really?” I ask. “I mean, yeah, I think so, and I feel some weird connection. But he’s certainly not on anybody’s top-ten list. But ever since that day last week, I haven’t been able to focus on anything. It’s like I’m always on the lookout in the cafeteria and the hallways for Noah, like I’m hoping to bump into him again, like I’m hoping he’s looking for me too. Agh, this sounds so gaga!” I brace myself for Melissa’s response; now she knows I’ve lost it!

  “Yes, he really is cute. And just because he’s not the most popular guy in school doesn’t mean he isn’t amazing. I mean, look at all of us. None of us are cheerleaders or in the popular group, but I think that’s a good th
ing. Raven and Emma and Gracie and you are all gorgeous and funny and talented. I like to think our heads are on a little better than the average sophomore girl’s. My guess is boys like Noah are just like us, but on the boy side, you know?” She flips her brown ponytail and wrinkles her cute, freckly nose. “And don’t worry about sounding goofy to me. I get all bouncy inside whenever I’m with Beau. Plus, you’ve had to listen to enough of my wacko life stories!”

  We turn onto the sidewalk leading to the rink.

  “So, I’m not a crackpot feeling like this?”

  “Well, if you are, I am!” Melissa laughs. “I’m just happy I have someone to swap goofy gaga stories with.”

  “But Beau is officially your boyfriend. I haven’t even had a real conversation with Noah, and there’s no way of knowing if he likes me — at all!”

  “What boy wouldn’t like you, Linds? You’re positively gorgeous and so tiny and smart. It’s just a matter of letting him know you’re interested, and he’ll be all over you.”

  A taste of bile floods my mouth. I flash back to my Stomp date and his octopus arms.

  “Uuugh! Bad word choice, Mel. I don’t want him all over me, but I do want him to ask me out.”

  “Gone” by Toby Mac chimes from my hot pink phone. I carefully slide it from my bag while keeping the other hand on my handlebars and flip it open.

  WHERE R U

  “Hang on, it’s Emma.” I put my feet on the ground so I can text back.

  B THERE N 5

  I read out loud to Melissa,

  CUTE GUYS WITH PADS AND SK S. GOING 2 TAKE THEM ALL FOR MYSELF IF U DON’T HURRY

  Melissa pushes off on her bike again and laughs.

  LOL CANT U W? ON OUR WAY

  Click. I shut my phone, slide it back in my bag, and race to catch up with Melissa.

  “She’s a trip.” I shake my head and snort. “That’s why I love her: she always makes me laugh.”

  When we get to the rink, there is absolutely no one in the hallways. Our gym shoes echo on the polished white floors.

  “I took skating lessons for like a month here when I was a kid, but that was forever ago.” I turn my head. “There are two sheets of ice. I’m guessing they’re on the full sheet, but I don’t know.” I keep walking, but I feel like I’ve had too many Diet Cokes — all jumpy.

  Through the enormous glass windows, I see them skating on the full-sized rink.

  “Okay, how do we get down there?” Melissa asks, shoving her gloves in her kangaroo pocket.

  I’m searching for Noah, but in their helmets and pads all the players look the same. “Uh, this way.”

  There are a few more people here than I expected. I guess because of the scrimmage. Still, they’re mostly parents, so it’s easy to spot Emma, Raven, and Gracie in their colorful puffer vests and jackets. They’re sitting directly above the penalty box.

  “Shew!” I try to hold my breath, grabbing the seat next to Emma. The whole rink smells like the oldest, moldiest sponge that’s been left in a sink for months, past its prime, times a thousand. “It’s rank in here!” Our voices have a hollow, tinny sound in the arena.

  “I warned y’all about the stench,” Raven drawls.

  “Yeah, there’s nothing stinkier than hockey equipment,” Gracie adds. “I won’t get near Drew until he gets all that gear off and showers!” She holds her nose with one hand and attempts to wave the smelly air away with her other.

  Emma leans into me and points. “Noah’s right there — number five.”

  I follow her finger and see him racing down the ice with the puck cradled in his stick. He slaps it into the goal and looks up. He probably heard Emma shouting his name.

  I want to duck under my seat or at least hide behind Melissa, but I’m frozen. Noah’s head nods as if he’s seen me. He skates over to his fellow players, who punch their hockey gloves against his. I’m guessing my cheeks look like I applied my raspberry ice lip gloss to them!

  For the rest of the scrimmage and during dinner at Raven’s, I try to focus on my friends. Melissa’s a mess because Beau’s parents forbid him from dating during basketball season. They don’t think he has time for school, basketball, and Melissa. Raven decided not to play softball this spring so she can focus on soccer. Emma’s annoyed because she always has to babysit her five younger siblings, and Gracie has stories about what life is like with her grandmother living in their house.

  But all I keep seeing is Noah running his fingers through his hair. When he pulled his helmet off at the end of the scrimmage, his face was all pink and flushed from the workout. He had been unexpectedly elegant sliding across the ice, despite all of that big, clunky gear. The players were like elephants flawlessly performing ballet.

  I begin to strategize how to run into Noah again.

  “Lindsey?”

  I snap out of my reverie. I look around the table. I don’t even know who called my name.

  “Earth to Lindsey.” Gracie grins. “Randy’s talking to you.” She smiles even bigger. “I know that faraway look.”

  “She’s thinking about Noah!” Emma squeals.

  “Noah?” Randy asks. “Noah Hornung? I was just trying to get you to pass the rolls, but this is even better.” Raven’s brother gives me that all-knowing look and raises his eyebrows.

  Even Mr. and Mrs. Mack laugh.

  “Busted.” I blush for the millionth time today. “Don’t tell, Pleeease?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The next day in the cafeteria, I’m picking pepperonis off my pizza. I love pizza. It’s hard for even the school cafeteria to mess it up, but the pepperonis have suspicious pools of grease floating in them.

  “You don’t want those?” Emma asks.

  “No.” I grimace.

  “I’ll take ’em.”

  I shrug and start moving them one by one with the tips of my thumb and pointer finger onto Emma’s tray.

  “Hey, Lindsey.” The voice is so deep and familiar, but I can’t place it. I look up. Towering above me is Noah.

  “Hi,” I manage to say.

  He grabs a chair and turns it around backward. His long legs straddle the back of the chair as he thankfully lowers himself to eye level.

  “Hi, Raven,” he adds.

  “Hey, Noah. You ready for Saturday’s game?”

  “I hope so. Wexley’s a tough team.”

  “Y’all can do it.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He ruffles his hair.

  “So, Lindsey.” He turns back to me. His long-sleeved, gray T-shirt looks so soft, I want to feel it for myself. He looks me directly in the eyes. I can’t remember anyone speaking to me with such focus, ever. “I was wondering if you were going to youth group on Sunday.”

  I look to Emma and back at Noah. “I don’t know for sure. I mean, I don’t go to church there or anything. I just usually tag along with Emma. I really like Pastor Ed. I think he’s — ” I twist my lips looking for the right word. “Real, you know, not over the top or anything.”

  “Yeah, he’s cool.” Noah unfolds his body from the chair. “Well, if you go, I’ll see you there.” He places his enormous hand on my shoulder and kind of uses me to push himself to standing. He turns and winks — that same secretive wink from the day in the hallway — and then lumbers away like a giant through a field.

  My entire body goes cold like when I first step out of a hot shower into an air-conditioned bathroom. I’m freezing except my shoulder, which is fiery hot.

  My friends are silent for about two minutes, which never happens but it’s perfectly fine by me. I am frozen like a mannequin. I don’t dare watch where he went.

  Eventually, it’s Emma who breaks the silence. “I guess Randy didn’t keep it to himself?”

  “He’s never been good at keeping secrets,” Raven tries to say seriously, but a snicker sneaks from her lips.

  We all burst out laughing — so uncontrollably, the whole cafeteria seems to notice. Warm tears trickle down my cheeks. I try to catch them with my fingertips an
d wipe them upward from where they came, so my mascara doesn’t smear.

  When the giggles finally work their way out, I turn to Emma. “So, how about youth group?”

  She starts to open her mouth, but instead of words a cackle swirls out like a puff of smoke from a chimney. And the laughter erupts all over again.

  I spend days planning my outfit for Sunday night. I pull clothes out of drawers and lay them on my white dresser top, complete with shoes, belts, scarves, jewelry, headbands, everything to get the full effect. If after a few minutes or hours or even a day I still don’t absolutely love the ensemble, I carefully put each item back in its proper place and start from scratch.

  I finally decide on my darkest pair of designer jeans and a beige cashmere cardigan with a Michael Kors white tee underneath. My sand-colored UGGs and brown paisley scarf set it off. I’ll look comfortable, pretty, and soft. I’ll also be conservative enough for church group, but not frumpy.

  “Are you ready, sweetie?” Mom calls from downstairs as I brush the final stroke of mascara on my lashes.

  “Sure, here I come.”

  “I forget — am I taking you to Emma’s house or to her church?”

  “Emma’s first and then her church.” I kiss Mom on the cheek. “We’re picking her up and giving her a ride.”

  “Right.” Mom grabs her black purse that I covet and digs for her keys. “I’m so glad Emma’s church has a dynamic youth group. I love our church, but we’re just not big enough to have that kind of program.”

  I nod. Mom brings this same topic up about every six weeks. It’s like she’s apologizing or something. I don’t mind. I like our church, and I like Emma’s youth group. I don’t mind going to both. I think it actually gives me a broader view, listening to the different ways both churches approach the same thing. They always end up with Jesus’ love, which is all that matters to me.

  “Remember what happened when Mike Alcott’s son — isn’t his name Mike too? — tried to pull something together?”

  I remember. “It was awful.” I laugh as Mom and I climb into the Prius. “I think maybe four of us showed up for the meeting. We were all too embarrassed to sing because everyone would hear our voices. No one would talk except for Amelia Sorgaf. And she just talked and talked and talked and Mike — that is his name — finally had to cut her off to say the closing prayer.”