Practically Ever After Read online

  “Right.” Because Penn State wasn’t in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania with practically no mass transit to it. It didn’t help that she was going to Rowan, which was a good four hours away from my campus. We reached the gym and I pushed through the double doors, taking in the familiar smell of sneaker rubber, floor wax, and stale body odor. Even so, it calmed me, and I tossed over my shoulder, “Have fun tearing up London.”

  “It’ll be supercali—” Em started to sing, stopping at a hall monitor’s dirty look before rolling her eyes and turning in the direction of the theater. “Anyway, have fun cheering.”

  “Go, Muskrats!” Phoebe’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by a giggle, and, “I swear. Four years and I’m still not used to that.”

  I hurried across the gym floor and pushed into the locker room, willing my mindset onto my next task. Cassie waved from where she was tying the red and orange laces on her cheer shoes and I sat down next to her, pulling out my long-sleeved shell. Time to be Grace the cheerleader.

  Chapter 2

  “You owe me an extra plate of disco fries for being late.” Leia smiled up at me, waving a gravy-and-mozzarella-covered French fry as I slid into the booth’s creaky vinyl seats. Carlo’s Diner was already filling with the post-game high school crowd and the early-dinner-eating grey-haired crowd. As small as she was, though, I had no trouble finding her—it was impossible to miss the blue streak in her choppy, chin-length black hair peeking out over the top of our regular booth.

  I stole the fry from her and popped it into my mouth before bending over to give her a quick kiss.

  “Mmm, disco fry breath, my favorite,” I said, plopping back into the seat and patting the ends of my hair to check if it had swung onto her plate in those few seconds. No gravy: I was safe. “Sorry, they actually went to penalty kicks before losing. Pine North is a tough team.”

  “I heard. They beat our girls team last week.” Leia was still wearing her private school uniform, though she’d gotten rid of the little bowtie thing someone on their PTA had thought would look “adorable” with the blouse and had unbuttoned the top few buttons so the light blue top actually looked preppy-cute on her. The school had a really nice sweater dress option for the winter that looked straight out of a Ron Lauren catalog, but their spring/fall khaki skorts, blue-and-white saddle shoes, and ruched-sleeved blouse broke at least five fashion laws in one shot. “Of course, our cheerleaders pretty much suck compared to Pine Central’s,” she added with one of her cute suppressed smiles as she twirled another fry in the gravy-cheese mix.

  “Not that you’re biased.”

  Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she shook her head. “Not at all.”

  The waitress came over and I distractedly ordered more fries and some gluten-free empanadas they’d just added to the menu.

  “So…” I took in the stress in her smile and the fact that she’d managed to polish off most of the fries on her own and leaned forward. “What’s bothering you?”

  She popped another fry in her mouth to avoid answering me. “Nothing these fries aren’t curing,” she finally said, then added, “I’m fine.”

  I steepled my fingers and arched my brow in quizmaster fashion. “Fine as in fine or fine as in ‘I don’t want to tell you about it’ fine?”

  “The second one.” She pursed her lips at my expression and shook her head. “Promise you’ll just listen and that you won’t try to fix everything?”

  “I don’t try to fix everything.”

  “Mmmhmmm.” She focused on getting the fry with the biggest glob of gravy and cheese rather than looking at me, her lips turning up a little in the corners.

  “What’s the point of hearing someone’s problems if you can’t offer advice?”

  “You’re such an engineer already,” she teased. “They might as well just give you your diploma right now.”

  “And you’re totally avoiding the question.” I caught her eyes and, at her arched eyebrows, quickly added, “Which I won’t try to fix. Unless you really need me to.”

  “Really, it’s not a big deal. Just guess who got roped into early morning face-painting duty at my school carnival?”

  I did a little mental check of the date and resisted the urge to grimace. Her school carnival was the day after Pine Central’s prom, which meant she’d probably have to skip the post-prom sleepover at Cassie’s parents’ shore house.

  “How early?” I asked slowly, trying not to let the disappointment show in my voice.

  “9 a.m., right when the thing opens. Because, you know, you can’t have pony rides without face painting and the Haddontowne Academy likes things ‘bright and early.’” Her last three words were in a high-pitched imitation of her school’s principal, who apparently seemed to think she was a fairy godmother or something. “There’s no way I’d make it down to Cape May and back and actually be conscious.”

  The waitress set down our food and I distractedly thanked her before saying, “I thought you asked for a night shift.”

  “I did, but Brooklyn decided she wanted that shift and since her parents just bought new smartboards for all the classrooms, guess who got bumped?”

  “That worm did it on purpose. She knew about my prom and she wanted to ruin things for you, like she did for your prom.” It really had been so convenient how her school had decided to institute a new “no non-Haddontowne student at the prom” rule the exact same year Leia was the only student planning on bringing someone from outside the school.

  “We really don’t know if she’s the reason why I wasn’t able to bring you. There are a lot of jerks at my school who probably complained. And you know the administration keeps saying it had to do with some drinking or something last year.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with her again about that. Leia had taken the whole prom thing in stride, while I’d been riled up for a fight. “Can you switch with someone else? Talk to your principal about it? Heck, I’ll talk to your principal if you want me to.”

  “You promised not to try to fix things.” Leia tilted her head and frowned at me before finishing off the first basket of fries and grabbing one of the empanadas. “And I’ve already tried talking with everyone. Brooklyn has all her friends assigned for all the other face painting slots and big surprise, none of them can switch.”

  I felt my fingers curling tighter around my napkin and dropped my hands into my lap so she wouldn’t see. “I’m going to shove a potato in her stupid BMW’s exhaust. I hate spoiled rich kids.”

  The tiny smile at the corners of Leia’s lips grew wider and she pointed at my bookbag. “So, how’s the Laurie Witton holding up? And is that an Airmess scarf in your hair?”

  I reached up and defensively patted the silk scarf I’d wrapped around my hair like a headband after my post-cheer shower. “I’m not spoiled, Miss Private Academy.” Before she could point out that she was on scholarship and give me any more digs, I smiled back at her. “Look, I really don’t care if she tolerates you or not, but I really don’t understand why you let Brooklyn get away with everything.”

  “Because you really have to feel sorry for her. Her parents give her everything she wants, they manipulate the school and the teachers with their money, and she’s never had to face failure because money keeps making problems just go away. Someday, when her safety net disappears and she actually has to experience the real world, it’s going to hit her hard.” Leia ran a hand through her hair, making the ends spike out even more around her ears. “You and I are different. We have real friends who care about us and parents who let us fail and succeed on our own terms. When things go bad—when, because this isn’t a world of just sunshine and perfect rainbows—we’ll be able to handle it. Maybe we’ll even come out of bad things better off than before because of it. Who knows? We’re really lucky like that.”

  “That’s really deep. How did I manage to date someone so smart?”

  A tiny, flirty smile played across her lips. “Dunno. I guess you’re lucky like that, too.” />
  I grinned, then nodded, thinking aloud about next steps. “Okay, we’ll forget about the shore. I’ll let Cassie and the rest of the squad know. Brooklyn is killing decades of Pine Central cheer tradition, you know.”

  “I’m sure they’ll survive without me, but you can go if you want.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I shook my head, my lips pressing into a straight line. “No. We can go to that post-prom thing the student council is doing, instead. I’ll get our tickets. We’ll be home by one at the latest.”

  “That’ll make my mom happier, anyway. You know she didn’t like the whole shore house idea.”

  “Afraid it was going to be a massive cheerleader orgy?” I asked with a snort.

  “You’re not far off. You know she thinks cheerleading is the gateway to all things the stereotypical ‘bad girls’ do in high school.” Leia rolled her eyes dramatically while scrunching her nose at me.

  “She’s just biased against elite athletes.” I suppressed a smile and added, “Does your mom think I’m a bad girl influence? That I run around picking on math nerds in my free time?”

  “Like you have free time,” she said, a sarcastic note twisting with her teasing tone, then, as I deepened my pout, waved dismissively at me and added, “Oh, come on, you’re probably the nerdiest cheerleader she’s ever met.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said in my most begrudging tone.

  “You would. Speaking of cheer, any news from the tryouts?”

  I really didn’t need that reminder. I resisted the urge to check my email at that second, keeping my fingers busy by folding and unfolding my napkin, instead. I’d been waiting since March for Penn State to announce the list for next year’s team, and this week, especially, had felt like a lifetime. “No. They didn’t promise it would be up this week, though.”

  “Don’t worry. You nailed the audition. They’d be silly not to take you.” Her phone buzzed and she frowned as she flipped it over and glanced at the screen. “Sorry, that’s Mom. She wants me home for dinner. ‘Family meeting,’” she said, hooking her fingers in air quotes.

  “Okay, Princess, go home before you turn into a pumpkin.” I picked up the check, shoving away Leia’s proffered ten-dollar bill, pulled a twenty out of my bag, and waved down the waitress.

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “It’s Ewoks and lightsabers, Princess. Which means that I’d turn into a Death Star. You should know that by now.” At the waitress’ confused look, she said, “Sorry, these people from Monaco just don’t understand us Alderaanians.” As the woman walked away, we muffled our giggles. Not too many people knew we’d both been named after princesses—in fact, our combined parents’ weirdness was one of the first things we bonded over when we met. I was named after Princess Grace, who was from Philly, because my mom had this fairy-tale fantasy that I’d follow in her footsteps, while Leia was named after Princess Leia because her parents are Star Wars geeks. Even though I thought her name was infinitely cooler than mine, she liked to argue that she was just happy she didn’t end up being named Amidala.

  “Pumpkin, Death Star, totally the same thing. They’re both sort-of round.” We walked out of the diner and I put my hand on the small of her back to guide her down the steps and towards her car. My house was only two blocks away, but Leia lived on the other side of town, right where it edged Millbrook. A few more feet over and she would have been in rival school territory, private school or no.

  “You’re such a ‘fake geek girl.’ I should have known cheerleaders, especially blonde cheerleaders, were a total fail when it comes to getting mainstream pop-culture sci-fi references,” she teased. Leia got to her little beat-up Hyundai and leaned against the door, looking up at me. Leia barely broke five feet and her hair and outfit only added to her pixie-like look, and even though I wasn’t that tall, I eclipsed her, even in flats. In the glow of the setting sun, she really looked like she had just stepped out of a fairytale.

  I laughed and stepped closer, slipping my arms around her waist. “That’s why I have you. You’re my geek cred.” I bent down and she rose up on her tip-toes at the same time, our lips meeting at the midpoint. Just like our first kiss at my sixteenth birthday party, this one electrified me. Her arms went around my neck and her fingers tangled in my hair, playing with the knot on my scarf as she pulled me closer and deepened the kiss until I was the one pressing forward, practically trying to make the two of us meld into metal of the car door.

  When we finally came up for air, Leia reached up and fixed the mess we’d made of my once-perfect hair while I tried not to look flustered. That wasn’t our usual good-bye kiss. My fingers still tingled, hyper-sensitive as I straightened her blouse. I kissed the tip of her nose.

  “What was that for?” I asked.

  “For being understanding about the whole prom shore house thing.”

  “Right,” I said with a grin, “Thanks for reminding me that I have to stock up on potatoes.”

  “Goose.” She reached up for a quick kiss. “Leave Brooklyn’s car alone.”

  “I can’t promise, but,” I held the door as she slipped into her car, “we’ll still have an awesome prom. Prep-school maggot interference or not.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Leia shut the door and waved as she pulled away while I stood and watched until her car turned off Main Street. With a happy little sigh, I headed home. I definitely was going to make sure prom was perfect. I had to.

  Chapter 3

  I stared at the mentor availability calendar on the board, and with a frown, pulled my planner out of my backpack. A major perk of taking the independent study Engineering Drawing and Design class was that we actually got to work with grad student mentors from Schuylkill University on our final design projects, which was a great way to get a peek into college-level engineering. The downside, though, was trying to coordinate schedules, especially this time of year, when a lot of them were already deep into co-ops or internships and we were deep into finals.

  “What time do you want?” I asked Alec as I scanned my already crammed week. He and I had both been partnered with a mechanical engineering grad student named Oliver, and always tried to schedule our times together. It was an incredibly logical compromise—not only did everyone save on gas and tolls, but, even though my and Alec’s projects were different, a lot of things we needed help on were pretty much the same.

  Alec didn’t even bother to check his phone, only squinted at the list Mr. Newton had projected up on the smartboard. “How’s Wednesday at 3?”

  I didn’t even need my planner for that. “No go. Cheer until 4.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, Oliver’s also got time on Friday until 4.”

  I slid my finger along the rows of boxes on my planner until I got to Friday. I was supposed to help Leia with her volunteer program at that time, but as long as Alec, Oliver, and I met at the library, I’d be really late but could possibly still make it work. “Grab that one before Dave does.”

  “Grabbing.” Alec said, hopping into the online class calendar.

  Meanwhile, I inked the time into my planner, taking a minute to tap my pen hesitantly against the table before crossing out the original time next to “Leia’s garden.” She would understand. “Thanks.” I glanced up to see our teacher making a beeline for us with a frown. “Newton incoming,” I said under my breath, then flipped my notebook open to my last set of notes and concept sketches. Maybe I could distract him with design brilliance?

  Alec, probably thinking the same thing, opened Creo on his screen and pulled up one of his incredibly cool but completely impractical designs in the 3-D modeling program.

  Mr. Newton rounded our table to stand behind us and check out Alec’s screen. He cleared his throat dramatically. “Good morning Grace, Alec.”

  “’Morning,” Alec said without looking up from adding random rounds to what I guessed was some sort of gladiator chestplate.

  “I think you two just broke your own record for blocking off Oliver’s
time in the class calendar,” our teacher said, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his tone.

  Alec gave one final click and rendered his model with a flourish of his mouse. “It’s not our fault everyone else is slow today because they were up late last night binging Technocracy.”

  Mr. Newton didn’t even crack a smile. “Speed aside, you both need to learn to negotiate schedules with your classmates. This is the second time you two have done this to them.”

  Technically, it was the third time we’d broken the unspoken rule of asking before scheduling with Oliver, but I wasn’t going to correct him. It wasn’t like Dave or Ilse actually had super busy schedules, anyway. Definitely not anywhere near mine. I gave him my most apologetic smile. “Sorry, we’ll do better next week. It’s my fault, my schedule is a mess.” I angled my planner so he could see my perfectly detailed hourly layout, my entire life laid out in beautiful, unbroken, multicolored thirty-minute increments.

  Mr. Newton made a disbelieving sound. “Next time you don’t consult with Dave and Ilse and make sure they have a fair chance at scheduling, I’m docking class participation points from both of your final grades.” He looked from Alec to me and seemed a little disappointed when we both just shrugged in response. “Now, have you both decided what your final projects will be? Deadline to submit your proposals is next Monday.”

  I nodded, holding up my notebook so he could see the crude sketches I’d made of a glove in isometric view. I wasn’t perfect at art like Alec, but the idea I was trying to convey was recognizable. “I want to figure out a way to make a better version of the gloves some stroke rehab patients wear. My grandmother had to use one and complained about hers all the time. I thought maybe I could make something better than the one she had.” When Mr. Newton had taken us on a short field trip to the university to meet Dr. Aubrey and her grad students, Oliver had shown us a robotic glove he had been working on for people with paralysis in their hands. The moment I saw the prototype in action, the ideas started percolating in my head. Not for a glove like his, but something that would help make things easier for people going through the same thing as my grandmother.