My Senior Year of Awesome (19 page)

After she leaves, I discover a leather bomber jacket in the back of the coat closet.

The jacket looks and smells manly, like gasoline and old leather. I have no idea where it came from, but the size is way too big for my mother. Weird. Mom never brings guys home. And I would know if one of my few and far between dates left an article of clothing behind.

***

“Cool jacket,” Jana approves when she and Ben swing by to pick me up late Saturday afternoon.

“This old thing? I found it in the closet, calling my name.”

“I’ll bet it was,” Jana says, poking me with her elbow. “Waiting for a special occasion, right?”

Downstairs, Ben’s minivan chariot awaits. With my permission, Jana updates him on my catch a prom date plan, not because I want him to know how desperate I am to nab Andy, but because I assume everything I tell her is brought up in later conversation anyway. At least Ben is a trustworthy guy. Plus, Jana threatens to dump him if he blabs our secrets to anyone, even Dominic. Especially Dominic.

One mile before the airport, we hit a roadblock on Skyline Avenue. We ditch the van in a nearby field and sift through high grass, cutting our own path toward the jam-packed open house. Every infant, toddler, tween and pre-teen in Harmony must have decided they want to be pilots when they grow up.

“Where’s the boy band?” Jana asks, scanning the crowd for hot guys with guitars. Ben points to a raised platform ten yards behind the cracked, asphalt runway where five wrinkly guys with long, grey hair play banjos.

“What happened to the rock stars?” I ask. Around us, meltdowns and tantrums drown out the roar of jet engines. The mob hanging around a ring toss game incites a near riot when a bunch of big kids try to budge their way in the front of the line.

“This is really how you girls want to spend the afternoon?” Ben stops in his tracks and sniffs twice. “Hey, I smell funnel cake.”

“Do not bring it near me!” Jana sucks in a horrified breath. “My prom dress was just altered.” She brushes her lips over Ben’s cheek and then whispers something in his ear. Ben’s face burns red. His mouth drops open. Without a word of good-bye, he walks off.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“I described my dress for him. He needs a second,” Jana says, gazing after Ben’s retreating form with a smug expression.

“Sadie!” Andy’s little sister breaks apart from a crowd of elementary schoolers and tugs on the sleeve of my jacket. Her two front teeth have grown in and they’re only slightly crooked. My heart skips a beat when I realize her brother must be close.

“Hi …” I completely blank on her name. Probably not Andyette, which is how I always think of her.

“Abby,” she says, very helpfully. Close enough to Andy that I won’t forget it again.

“Hi, Abby.” I bend my knees, crouching down to her size. “This is my friend Jana. Jana, this is Andy’s sister.”

“Hi, Abby,” Jana says and then, “Is your brother here?”

“Andy’s flying the plane.” One of Abby’s pigtails brushes my face when she turns to point at the sky above the runway. “He’s landing now. Wanna go see?”

A small plane drones overhead, beginning its descent.

When the left wing tilts at a steep angle, I nearly bite through my lower lip. My future prom date is going to crash! After what seems like light years, but is probably less than ten seconds, the plane straightens out again, drops on the runway, bounces twice, and finally settles on the ground. The brakes screech and bright orange sparks fly out from under the wheels.

“Oh, Abby, there you are. Don’t walk away from me, sweetie. You’ll get lost in the crowd.” Mrs. Kosolowski appears, holding her hand above her eyes to shield the bright sun as she watches Andy’s plane taxi closer.

“But I wasn’t lost,” Abby insists. “I was with Sadie. And her friend Jana.”

“Hello, girls. Did you see Andrew’s landing? He’s gotten much better.” Mrs. Kosolowski greets us with a warm smile.

“You call that a good landing?” My voice ranges an octave higher than normal. “I was sure he was going to crash! How do you let him do that?”

Mrs. K. smiles and pats my arm soothingly. “Andrew is very conscientious. He took it upon himself to thoroughly research the probability of student pilot accidents before asking for lessons.”

“Sounds like the Andy we all know and love,” Jana says.

Mrs. K. continues rubbing my arm, like she can hear my heart pounding. “I will admit, the thought of him controlling an airplane sometimes keeps me up at night. We’ve missed you at breakfast, Sadie. The little ones keep asking Andrew when you’re coming back. Apparently, your waffles taste even better than mine.”

Over Mrs. Kosolowski’s shoulder, I catch Jana’s look of surprise. She realizes I held back valuable Andy information.

“Um, well, I’ve been busy. With the school play, and mathletes, and everything.” And because my invitation was mostly likely revoked when Andy found out about me kissing Dominic.

“Well, you’re always welcome. Don’t wait for my son to invite you. Are you here to watch him fly?”

“Yes, in fact, that’s exactly why I’m here,” I say.

“Come with me, then. I’m on my way to check in with him.” Mrs. Kosolowski links her arm through mine, refusing to take no for an answer. Abby tags along behind us, chattering about waffles, her annoying older brothers, and my cool jacket. I glance back in Jana’s direction for help, but she’s already taken off in the opposite direction, on the hunt for Ben.

When I turn my attention back to the airplane, I spot Andy unlatching the door and springing onto the runway. A swarm of young kids presses forward, shouting questions about flying. Behind Andy’s fan club stands a group of freshman and sophomore girls, including Colette, whose smile stretches from her left ear to her right.

Nerdy Andy has groupies. My eyes remain glued on him, wishing he would just notice me. But my hopes are dashed when a tall, auburn-haired girl steps out of the crowd and gives Andy a fierce hug. Melinda Banner. What’s she doing here? Is this really the best time for math tutelage? She doesn’t have a backpack with her or anything.

Colette’s mini-obsession with Andy doesn’t worry me too much. But Melinda scares me. Why does she want Andy? She ranks much higher than me on the popularity chain and probably could have just about any guy she wanted. Yes, Andy’s cute and he’s older and more mature and probably going to be as rich as Mark Zuckerberg one day. And the flying ace persona definitely increases his coolness factor. Okay, I think I just answered my own question.

My heart sinks in my chest, yet I stand there, frozen, beside Andy’s mom, forcing myself to remain stoic.

“Oh my,” says Mrs. K, taking in the flock of Andy admirers.

“I guess everyone loves a pilot.” I inject false cheerfulness into my voice. “I think I’ll catch up with Andy later. Tell him I said congratulations on the safe landing.”

I skirt away, easily blending in with the throngs of mini-humans, struggling to hold back the tears stinging my eyes. My mind feels like it’s filled with clumps of fuzzy cotton. It’s not until I bump into the huge person obstructing my path that I realize I’ve wandered into a display of antique cars parked by the control tower.

Two strong hands grab my upper arms, steadying me. “Everything okay, Miz Matthews?”

I knew I’d eventually run into Mr. Drum again, but did it have to be now?

I brush the leather sleeve of my jacket over my face to soak up my tears. “Fine, Mr. Drum. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Amusement flashes in his camo-green eyes. “Usually, I’m hard to miss.”

“Right. I must have been caught up in the beauty of all these … cars.”

“Fine pieces of machinery,” he agrees.

At this point, the conversation stalls because I have absolutely nothing further to contribute. I can’t even make eye contact with him, due to potential fatal humiliation.

“Nice jacket,” Mr. Drum steps back and inspects my costume.

“Thanks. I’ll see you around. In school, I guess,” I say and walk off, still in a fog.

I text Jana to tell her I’m near the antique automobiles and lower myself onto an empty bench to wait for her. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I pull out a button, a crumpled up slip of paper, and a business card for Nat’s Tats. When I unfold the paper, I see my mom’s cell phone number written in her jumbled cursive. Given my mom’s penchant for construction workers, the tattoo card isn’t a total surprise. Could she be secretly dating someone? Why wouldn’t she tell me about him if she was? Geez-us, I hope he’s not a total loser.

“How’d it go with Andy?” Jana’s voice shakes me out of my stupor. She plops down on the bench beside me.

“Terrible,” I say, suddenly remembering why I’m even here at the airport. “I didn’t talk to him. He’s a star pilot now, and every girl in Harmony loves him. Melinda Banner was his personal greeter when he stepped off the plane.”

“Melinda? I though he was just tutoring her.”

“They looked like they have a very friendly tutoring relationship. Maybe she’s interviewing him about his availability for the prom.”

“Ha, Andy’s so dense he’d probably wind up with her as a date without even realizing it.”

“For someone so smart he sure acts dumb around girls. And your sister was front and center at the worship service.”

“Colette’s here? The stinker, she must have overheard us talking. So, what, you just walked away without fighting for your prom date of destiny?”

When I don’t answer, Jana picks up the half-filled tub of caramel corn resting on her lap and offers it to me. I must really be out of it if I missed the scent of melted caramel.

“Ben isn’t helping with my prom diet. He keeps buying junk food,” she says, munching away. “He has calories to burn. But, I’m not running ten miles a day anytime soon.”

Silently, I pass her the business card and reach in the tub. While she reads, I ingest the sticky mixture of salty and sweet, popped to perfection.

“A tattoo parlor? Are you going to ink Andy’s initials on your butt?”

“No! The card and my Mom’s cell phone number were in the pocket of my jacket. The one left in the coat closet at my apartment.”

“Wow. Your Mom is tight with Nat, the premier ink artist in the tristate area?” Jana squints at the card as she recites the faded words.

“If she is, she hasn’t ever mentioned him.”

“Is she dating a heavily tattooed person?”

“Not that I know of. Maybe she’s thinking of ditching her medical receptionist career and starting a new business?”

“Maybe,” Jana says, her eyes sweeping over the miles of leather I’m wearing.

“What? It’s possible.”

“Sure it is,” Jana says. “So, you’re not gonna obsess over this little mystery, are you?”

“Not at all,” I promise. Beneath the overlong sleeves of my jacket, my fingers are crossed.

For the rest of the weekend, I do everything but pitch a tent, light a campfire, and roast marshmallows in my room to avoid my mother. Granted, she’s probably confused by my sudden transformation into a typical sulky teenager, but she’s also smart enough not to push me into a confrontation.

For once, I’m entitled to some full-fledged angst. I have reasons. First, after years of going unnoticed by most of the female population of Harmony, Andy has morphed into a local celebrity. I’ve finally realize we’re meant to be together at the same time he starts attracting girls like he’s Capitan America or something.

And what is Mom hiding? She never talks much about her personal life, but I’d always thought that was because she didn’t have one. Could Nat from Nat’s Tats be the answer to my question?

My late night call wakes Jana up.

“I need to talk to Nat,” I tell her.

“Nat who?” she murmurs into the phone, her voice slurred by sleep.

“The tattoo guy. Nat’s Tats. Maybe the jacket belongs to one of his customers. You know, a first-timer who wanted my mom’s initials on his bicep. Something tasteful.”

“Oh, Nat,” Jana says, suddenly alert. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“I’m going to Nat’s. Tonight. He’s open seven days a week until midnight. Or, at least that’s what this business card says.”

“You shouldn’t go to a tattoo parlor alone,” she mumbles, yawning big.

“Right. You’re absolutely right. See you tomorrow.”

“Sadie, don’t—”

I press the end call button on my phone.

***

For the first time ever, I sneak out of my apartment. Mom isn’t home, anyway. Sunday is Bon Jovi night at The Green Lagoon Pub. Now that I think about it, she hasn’t been home much at all lately, but I’d been too busy myself to notice. I switch on the side lamp in my room and close the door, hoping she’ll think I’m studying.

My stroll through downtown Harmony takes less than twenty minutes. Even in the emptiness of night, I feel the calm embrace of my hometown. Along the side streets, I recognize the names on most of the mailboxes.

Nat’s Tats is located on the first floor of a rickety old house crammed between a bunch of questionable-looking businesses. A red neon sign flashes “Open” in the dark window. Good to know Nat keeps to his publicized hours.

Inside, the sound of snake charmer music floating in from another room greets me. A bell sits on the counter, and my fingers hover, about to hit the ringer, when a loud voice says, “Don’t even think about it.”

I drop my hand and jump back from the counter. Along the back wall, crushed red velvet curtains part, exposing a doorway to another darkened room. If I don’t die tonight, Jana will kill me when I tell her about coming here alone.

A guy who looks like the Incredible Hulk, minus the green skin, smashes through the gap in the curtains. My mathlete instincts kick in, and I find myself estimating the circumference of his upper arms and comparing them to tree trunks. Possibly something in the giant oak or redwood family.

“Need something, kid?” he grumbles. Geez, do I look that young? I should have worn my high heeled boots.

“Is Nat here?” I ask, my voice sounding squeaky, like Colette’s.