You’re Invited Too (5 page)

pizza sauce

basil

oregano

mozzarella cheese (shredded)

your favorite pizza toppings: pepperoni, mushrooms, green pepper pieces, anything!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Unroll the crescent dough and separate it into rectangles (two crescents per rectangle). Brush each rectangle with a little olive oil; then sprinkle them with just a little basil and oregano. Spoon a very thin layer of pizza sauce on each rectangle (not too much, or it will leak out as the rolls bake!). Then layer on the cheese and each of your favorite ingredients. Remember not to put too much on the rectangle, or you won't be able to roll it up. Roll each rectangle into a tight roll. Place rolls on a baking sheet and refrigerate for 25 minutes. Then cut each roll in half (make sure halves don't touch each other), and place in the oven for 10–20 minutes, or until dough turns golden brown.

**This is the BEST party snack or studying snack.

**If you use a meat like sausage, make sure to cook it all the way through before adding it to the pizza rolls, or it could make you sick. And something this yummy should never, ever make anyone sick!

I
never in a million years thought that shuffleboard could be as intense as soccer or beach volleyball, but as Lance gets ready to push the weight in the last frame against Shuffleboard Dan, I've got my fists clenched, and my teeth are digging into my lower lip.

Dad calls shuffleboard an old-people-on-a-cruise-ship game, but, secretly, I think it was because he always had to work and never got to come to the Founder's Day tournament before. This year he was totally into it, and even won his first game. The new guy (apparently), Philippe, took him out in the second round, but Dad stuck around and is totally cheering for Lance next to Lance's dad. As much as I wish Dad weren't the school janitor, I can admit it's nice that he's not at work all the time anymore.

“Are they done yet?” Becca tucks a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “I am abso-posi-lutely dying of heat exhaustion in this thing.”

“You just want to change into something cuter for
Philllliiiiipppppppe
,” Sadie drawls.

Becca huffs. “I do not. He's cute, but so what? I'm completely, totally, one hundred thirty-seven percent done with boys.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sadie says.

“Shhh, y'all.” I wave my hand without looking at them. If Lance actually wins this, it'll be the first time anyone has
ever
beat Shuffleboard Dan. Who knows how much money is in that pot? Dan never takes out his winnings, just keeps adding to it every year. There's probably enough to buy twenty surfboards.

Lance wipes his face with his shirt. It's completely silent at the game board. Shuffleboard Dan is a total stickler for the rules, which means the players can't talk to each other while the game is on. Lance exhales, and then pushes the weight. It slides across the board.

It hits the 10 mark at the very tip-top of the triangle. As Meemaw says, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then. Although Lance isn't anything even close to squirrel-like, maybe he's found his luck today.

“Yes!” I shout, and punch the air.

But the weight doesn't stop. It slides just a bit farther—off the board. And Lance loses. So much for the blind squirrel.

“You okay, Vi? I didn't realize you were so into shuffleboard.” Becca pokes me with Polly Want a Cracker, who leaves feathers all over my shoulder.

I'm not, really. Shuffleboard is So Not Vi. Although, since a lot of things that were So Not Vi—like clothes and sparkly purple phones—became Sometimes Vi this summer, then maybe shuffleboard can too.

And now Lance is looking this way. Maybe if I seem completely busy, he'll go talk to someone else. I used to like to talk to him—about volleyball strategy or soccer tryouts. We're even on the same soccer team this year, since this town is so tiny that there aren't enough players to support separate boys' and girls' teams. But ever since I started curling my hair sometimes and wearing some of Becca's pink-tinted lip gloss, he's been weird. Like he can't figure out what to say to me. The first day of school, I think he tried to ask me to tonight's Founder's Day dance.

But he hasn't tried to ask me since then. I know, because we've had soccer practice and classes together. So I was either completely wrong about him wanting to ask me, or he hasn't worked up the nerve to try again. Either way, I've tried hard not to be alone with him, just in case. Not because I'm being mean. But because it's all just so . . .
weird
.

I grab Becca's and Sadie's arms with way too much enthusiasm. Sadie winces.

“So where's Lauren? Is she too cool for shuffleboard now?” I try to propel my friends toward the street to get away from Lance, just in case he tries to talk to me again, but Becca wiggles her arm out of my grasp.

“Ow, Vi. I kinda need my arm attached, you know?” Becca shakes out her pirate-coated limb. “Lo was here for exactly fifteen minutes. She said she only had four hours of ‘fun' time scheduled for today, and wanted to save the rest of it for the dance tonight.” Becca rolls her eyes at this, and I kind of agree with her. Only Lauren could plot out exactly how much time she's allowed to have fun. “Anyway, her alarm went off and she sprinted away to take over fairy-lights-and-streamers duty at the pavilion. The Chamber of Commerce people didn't go for the idea of her selling tickets and instead put her on the decorations committee, with
moi
. Speaking of which, I need to ditch the Dread Pirate ASAP so I can make sure she's not TPing the pavilion with streamers and—”

Becca's eyes widen at something over my shoulder, and her mouth twitches into this I-know-something-you-don't-know look. And now Sadie is rubbing her arm and grinning like a total loon.

Oh, no.

“Hey, Vi,” Lance says.

“Um, hi.” I turn around and stuff my hands into the itty-bitty pockets in my shorts. Except my phone is in one of them and my keys are in the other, so it's more like I've stuffed my fingertips into my pockets.

“Thanks for cheering for me,” Lance says.

Becca giggles, and Sadie shushes her. And I just want to find a way out of here. “Sure. So, look, I gotta—”

“Wait,” he says. “I need to ask you something.” He draws up this huge breath like he's about to dive into the deep end of the pool.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no no. It's happening. I glance at Sadie for help. She grins at me before she grabs Becca's arm and tugs her away, leaving me completely and totally alone with Lance.

I glance at him, but he looks like he's in pain or something. So I stare at my flip-flops and pink-painted toenails.

“So . . . um . . .” He pauses, and I feel so warm that it's like someone just turned on the heat outside.

“Youwannagotothedancewithme?” He says it so fast I can barely understand him.

I look up, pretty sure my face is rivaling the red in Shuffleboard Dan's Hawaiian shirt. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Which is So Not Vi.

Sadie and Becca are standing off to the side, watching the whole thing. Polly bobs on Becca's shoulder as Becca bounces on her toes.

“Vi?” Lance asks.

I open my mouth again. No words.

So I do the next best thing. I turn around and sprint toward my bike. Then I take off down Pelican Street.

I hope he knows that means yes.

•  •  •

I should've said no. I should've said that I needed to practice drills for soccer, or figured out where to buy a guest book of least one hundred light pink pages with a cover embedded in Swarovski crystals for Miss Worthington's wedding (her actual request), or make baked spaghetti for five hundred people at the post–Founder's Day brunch at the Church of the Victorious and Forgiving Holy Redeemer tomorrow, or plot revenge against Linney for how awful she's been about my dad the first two weeks of school, or repaint my toenails. Or something. Anything. Because nothing could possibly be more awkward than standing here in a shiny silver-and-pink dress (lent from Becca) and shiny silver shoes (from Sadie) with my hair in a perfectly messy-chic ponytail (all me, but with comments from Becca), not talking to Lance, who is standing right next to me.

When I got home after the disaster at Shuffleboard Dan's this morning, I started to think that maybe Lance didn't know that I really wanted to go to the dance with him. So I texted Becca, who told me I needed to tell him right away or the world might end (meaning, he wouldn't know and would probably be mad at me forever—Becca kind of likes to exaggerate where boys are concerned). I skipped the fish fry and went for a quick run instead. Then I channeled my inner Becca, gathered up all the courage I had, and sent Lance a text before I could chicken out.

Sry I left so fast. Thought I left the oven on @ home.
It was a lie, but it was going to help me save face, and maybe make him feel less like I ditched him. I pressed send, and before he could write back, I added,
Yes 2 the dance.

My phone was silent for about half an hour, and I was pretty sure that meant he was really mad at me. But it dinged just as I'd started to mix up some pizza dough.

K. Meet u there.
Another text followed almost right away.
Maybe don't run away again? Guys on team heard & now they won't shut up abt it.

So even though running away sounds really, really good right now because this whole thing is super weird, I stay put. I wave at my friends as they dance across the pavilion to some oldies song, laughing and having a million times more fun than me. Lauren's bubby is right behind them, twirling around in Wanda (her electric scooter, which she named) with some of the other ladies from Sandpiper Active Senior Living. And then there's my dad, twisting and turning with Sadie's mom, who's actually smiling for the first time since we kinda sorta took her client—not that she knows that yet.

And even Linney looks like she's having actual fun. Which is saying something for Linney, since most of the time she looks like she's just eaten enough lemons she could make lemonade (as Meemaw would say). I squint at her in her short white dress as she dances by with Evan Miller, who's in this ridiculous purple suit. How does she do that? Actually act normal with a guy who's obviously into her? Because I just feel all weird and not normal right now.

Lance refills his cup with Coke for the tenth time and I clasp my hands behind my back so I don't twist them together. I have to say something.

“So . . . check out Evan's suit.” Lame, Vi. Totally lame.

But Lance actually smiles. Then he burps. I can't help it—I start laughing.

Lance shades red, and I swallow my laugh. Now I've embarrassed him. Great. My friends whiz by on the dance floor again, and I wish Becca were here to whisper fizzy conversation into my ear that I could repeat to Lance.

“You know,” he finally says, “I never got why this dance is at the pavilion. I mean, we're outside, right next to the dunes, and we're all in
these
clothes.” He motions at his suit.

“Me too! It's weird to be right next to the beach in this fancy stuff. I feel like we should all be wearing swimsuits, you know?”

Lance nods, but I want to turn to sand myself and slip through the cracks in the pavilion's wooden floor. Swimsuits. I just mentioned
swimsuits
to Lance. Why did I do that? I might as well have said that I needed to go to the bathroom or something.

We go back to silence. I stare at the fairy lights ringing the pavilion. The town's conservation group lets the dance committee get away with the lights if they put up temporary walls between the pavilion and the dunes so that any late-season sea-turtle hatchlings aren't drawn to the pavilion instead of to the ocean. The pavilion actually looks really pretty. Maybe I should tell Lauren and Becca that.

Yup, they really need to know that. Right now.

“I'll be back in a second,” I say to Lance. “Gotta check in with my friends.” I don't even wait for him to say anything before I disappear into the dancing crowd.

“Vi! What are you doing here? Where's Lance?” Becca searches over my shoulder.

“I dunno. I just wanted to dance with my friends, okay?”

Lauren smiles. “Listen!”

It's Five Alive's “I'm a Hot Potato.” Perfect. I jump and shimmy with my friends, and it feels like we're reliving our last party of the summer—the one where we threw a Five Alive boy-band bash for a bunch of eight-year-olds. Of course, our Five Alive was technically Lance, Becca's summer crush Ryan, and a couple of other guys from school, but they really worked it, and the girls ate it up. I dance and dance, and it feels nice to not be so worried about what to say or what to do with my hands or whether my hair is sticking up in back. It feels
normal
. Or as normal as it can get in a shiny, sparkly dress, anyway.

“How's it going, Mrs. Travis?” Sadie asks, a little out of breath as we dance.

I give her a good glare. “It's weird, that's how it's going. We don't have anything to talk about. We're just standing there. And my dad keeps looking over at us, which is even weirder.”

“You never had problems talking to him before,” Lauren says as she lifts her long dark hair off her neck.

“I know, but we always talked about sports. Or called each other names. I don't know what we're supposed to talk about when we're all dressed up like this.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Becca says. “Love. Fate. The stars aligning.” She sighs, and Lauren gives her a look. “What? Just because I've sworn off boys doesn't mean I can't imagine being asked to a dance by one. And, Vi, since this is a dance, you should ask him!”

“Ask him what? About fate?” The whole thought makes me laugh. Like,
Lance, do you think our stars are aligned?
Actually, that would be such an awesome joke to play on him. And if this were Pre–Moss Dress, I'd totally do it. But not now. Because he might actually take it seriously.