Tomorrow Starts Today Page 6

  Andi’s party was rocking. Apparently, her invitation—or Cyrus’s mom’s talent for gossip—had come through, and her house was full of people. Music was blaring from the speakers as Bex spun her tunes, and kids were dancing and laughing and having a blast.

  Looking around, Andi couldn’t believe it. She was throwing a party. She was throwing a good party. Granted, she didn’t know half the people who were there, and she was pretty sure someone had spilled juice on Celia’s favorite rug, but she didn’t care. Not too much, at least. It was totally worth it. And it was still early!

  As Bex led the partygoers in a chant of “Go, Andi!” Andi made her way through the dancers toward the front door. She figured, as hostess, she should probably greet people as they arrived. Just as she got to the door, it opened, revealing Jonah Beck. Her heart began to pound in a way that was becoming far too familiar. She had begun to think of it as the Beck Beat.

  “This is a great party,” he said, looking around at all the people.

  Andi smiled nervously. “It’s my first one,” she said, hoping the loud music was drowning out her pounding heart. Jonah was, much to her disappointment, dating a high school girl. He probably went to parties all the time. He certainly looked comfortable in the middle of the chaos.

  “I see you over there, Jonah Beck!”

  Andi’s head whipped around at the sound of Bex’s voice. Ever since her unfortunate discovery of Andi’s not-so-small crush on Jonah, Bex had been doing things to “help” her get closer to him. That included the surprise Frisbee lesson that had resulted in Andi agreeing to try out for the Ultimate Frisbee team, and now it appeared it was also going to include forcing them to dance.

  Luckily, Jonah did not seem bothered by the attention. When Bex shouted for him to show everyone his moves, to Andi’s surprise, he did just that. Swinging his arms and kicking his feet, he moved to the beat of the song with surprising rhythm—and a little swagger. Andi couldn’t help laughing, and she couldn’t help saying yes when he asked her to dance, either.

  There were many things that made Andi self-conscious: Playing Frisbee. Sports in general. Getting called on in class. Talking to Jonah. But one thing that she was oddly not self-conscious about was dancing. Maybe it was the fun moves Bex would show her whenever she would visit. Whatever the reason, she loved dancing. And now, as she and Jonah moved to the music, she had to admit that dancing with him was even better.

  As the music grew louder, Andi felt the rest of the crowd fade away. It was as if she and Jonah were in their own little bubble. Together, they jumped up and down to the increasing beat, lifting their hands in the air and moving around each other as if they had done this a thousand times before. Andi’s smile grew and grew. She didn’t care that she and Jonah were taking up most of the dance floor. She didn’t care that people were watching. There was nothing that could ruin this moment.

  Across the room, Buffy was not letting anything get in the way of her moment, either. Although, in her case, the moment was between her and the sweet snacks Andi and Bex had laid out on the dining room table. Torn between the mini cupcakes with orange frosting and the large cupcakes with sweet cream frosting, she barely registered it when someone came up and stood next to her. Until that someone went and started talking.

  “Do I know you?”

  Looking over, Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the boy behind the voice. Talk about a lousy pickup line. Then she looked him up and down, taking in his bright blue plaid shirt and plate of food. “I think you would know if you knew me,” she said, automatically falling into her characteristic snarky banter mode.

  “What have you done that is so great that I would know you?” the boy asked.

  Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What haven’t I done?” she replied.

  The boy looked thoughtful. “You haven’t eaten a live frog,” he finally said.

  “Have you?” Buffy said, momentarily thrown off her game. He nodded yes. “Why would you eat a live frog?” she said, simultaneously grossed out and intrigued.

  The boy was not backing down. It was like he enjoyed the challenge of flirting with Buffy as much as she enjoyed the challenge of flirting with him. “He mouthed off,” the boy said, waggling his eyebrows.

  “You never ate a frog,” Buffy said, deciding their interaction had run its course.

  The boy nodded. “Of course not,” he agreed. “You’re just making this part of the conversation very difficult.”

  “I’m just here for the cheese puffs,” Buffy said with a shrug.

  “But you’re staying for the witty banter,” the boy countered.

  “And when does that start?” she said, shutting him down.

  The boy’s face fell, but he plunged on. “In a minute,” he said, looking over to the corner of the dining room. “Over there. With someone else?”

  Buffy had to admit it, the guy was good. He had kept her intrigued—and away from her cupcakes—for a solid two minutes. That might just be a record. And record or not, he had worked hard enough that she at least wanted to know his name. “Buffy,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “Marty,” he said, reaching out and shaking it. Then, as if it had been his plan all along, Marty gave her a quick “check ya later” and headed back into the crowd of partygoers.

  Buffy turned back to the food, a smile on her face. That had been fun. Strange and a little intense, but fun. Hearing footsteps, she turned, thinking it would be Marty, back for more banter. But it was only Cyrus. He had heard the tail end of the conversation.

  “Hey,” he said, catching wind of potential drama. “Who was that kid you were talking to?”

  Buffy pretended to think hard for a moment. Then she shrugged. “I don’t remember his name,” she said, even though that was not even close to true. But when she got going on playing the “game,” she had a hard time stopping—even if it meant being vague and somewhat hard to read with her best friend. “I was too busy one-upping him.”

  “Conversation is not a competition sport, Buffy,” Cyrus said, leaning over the desserts and rolling his eyes dramatically. It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed Buffy trying to “win” a conversation.

  “Maybe not yet,” Buffy replied. Then, unable to stop herself, she added, “But the night is young. And so am I!”

  As Cyrus groaned, Buffy grabbed one more cupcake and took off into the crowd. Cyrus watched her go, simultaneously annoyed and jealous. He talked a big game, but when it came to flirting, he could probably use some tips from Buffy. But he would never admit that—at least not to her. Maybe to Andi. Speaking of Andi, he realized he hadn’t checked in with the hostess of the evening in a while. Not since he had seen her rocking the dance floor with Jonah. Scanning the room, he spotted his bestie watching the crowd.

  “Hey!” he said, walking over and joining her.

  Hearing Cyrus’s voice, Andi turned. A huge grin spread over her face. “I think people are having a good time,” she said happily. “I’m throwing…a fun party!”

  “Go you,” Cyrus said, lifting his hand. The pair bumped fists.

  And then, suddenly, the music shifted and the crowds parted. Turning to see what was going on, Andi felt her stomach drop. She should have known things were too good to last. Because there, dancing in the middle of the crowd, was none other than Amber—aka Jonah Beck’s obnoxious but perfectly perfect high school girlfriend. She was wearing a black tank top decorated with silver beading that sparkled, and her long blond hair was whipping back and forth as she showed off dance moves Andi thought only people in music videos knew how to do. The crowd—including Jonah—was loving it. They shouted and clapped as she bent over and then snapped up, flipping her hair.

  Andi groaned. “Why does she have to be here?”

  “You know what?” Cyrus said, letting out his own annoyed groan. “She shouldn’t be. I’m going to ask her to leave.”

  “You are?” Andi asked, surprised by her best friend’s sudden burst of bravado.

  “Y
eah,” he said, smoothing down his vest. Then he stopped and stuffed his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. “No. I only talk a big game. She terrifies me.”

  Andi wasn’t terrified of Amber. But she wasn’t a big fan of the girl. And she definitely didn’t want to talk to her. But when the music came to an end and the “Amber Show” stopped, Andi felt a wave of nausea wash over her as Amber made her way across the room—toward her. “Ugh!” Andi said, turning to Cyrus. “She’s coming over. I don’t want to talk to her.”

  But it was too late.

  “Hi, Amber,” Andi said through clenched teeth. Up close, Amber looked even prettier.

  “Hi, Andi,” Amber said back in a sickly sweet voice. She gestured to the dance floor. “Great party.”

  As the two girls made awkward conversation, Cyrus watched. He didn’t like confrontation. And Amber did scare him. But he wasn’t about to let her go and ruin Andi’s night with her fake nice talk and insincere compliments. “I’m sorry. I have to say something,” he said, interrupting them. “We don’t know each other—”

  “You’re Cyrus, right?” Amber said, cutting him off.

  Cyrus’s eyes grew wide. How did she know that? Was she psychic? “Yes. No. I don’t know,” he stammered. “Why?”

  “My friend thinks you’re cute,” Amber said. “She wants to meet you. I’ll introduce you.”

  Before Cyrus could even utter an apology, Amber grabbed his arm and began dragging him away. He looked over his shoulder, mouthing sorry to Andi before he disappeared into the crowd.

  Andi watched them go. It had been nice of Cyrus to try to defend her, but she should have known Amber would get the upper hand. She was a high schooler, after all. Still, it stung a little that Cyrus’s attention had been so quickly taken. Sighing, she looked back at the party. At least people were having fun. Andi just wished she was having a little more fun herself.

  “Did you smell that? Something stinks in here.”

  Hearing Bex’s voice, Andi turned. Crinkling her nose, she sniffed the air. She didn’t smell anything. What was Bex talking about? Then she looked down, and her eyes grew wide with understanding. In her hands, Bex was holding the special cans they had bought at The Fringe.

  “If only we had air freshener,” Andi said, a huge grin breaking on her face. It was as if Bex had read her mind. She needed a dose of fun. And what was more fun than spraying unsuspecting party people with loads of pink sticky string?

  Holding the can up in front of her, Andi pressed down. Pink string shot out and over the crowd. As some of the kids began to shriek, other kids found more of the cans and joined in the action. Soon the entire first floor of the Macks’ house was a sticky string battlefield. The music blasted, and people were jumping up and down, spraying the cans to the beat as they waved their hands in the air. No one was safe. And everyone was having a blast.

  Everyone, that is, except Amber.

  Spotting her coming from the kitchen, Bex let loose with her own can of green spray string. She was no fool. She knew how stuck up and rude Amber had been to Andi ever since Andi had become friends with Jonah. She had seen the fake smile Amber had given Andi as the two girls talked. Bex had known girls like Amber in high school. She hadn’t liked them then, and she really didn’t like them now. Pressing harder on the nozzle, she emptied the entire contents of the can onto Amber’s perfect blond head.

  Bex walked off and left the girl fuming.

  But Amber was the only one not having fun. The string war had gotten the party back in full swing. With the cans emptied, kids quickly returned to the dance floor. One after another, they showed off their signature dance moves. Bex kept the music rocking so Cyrus could shake his arms in the air and Buffy could show off a sick split. And if they weren’t dancing, kids were in the selfie booth, trying on costumes and snapping pics. It was shaping up to be a night none of them would—or could—forget.

  And then, suddenly, the lights went out.

  The music stopped.

  The whole house seemed to be put on pause. Kids stopped dancing. People stopped taking pictures. It grew silent.

  And then, a slow beat began to fill the house. A black light came on, illuminating neon green and yellow paint that lined the walls and stairs. Then a lone figure appeared—or what looked like a figure. All anyone could see in the black light was a pair of bright neon green gloves and stripes of blue neon that ran up and down the center of the figure’s body and onto its arms and legs. All eyes were on the figure as it bopped and weaved its way down the stairs to the music. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the figure’s bright green shoes glided over the wood in an intricate and practiced pattern. It was, hands—and feet—down, the coolest thing that had happened all night.

  Finally, the music stopped, and the lights came back on.

  Standing there, in a cool black tracksuit with a hood over her hair, was Andi. She smiled as the crowd, led by Jonah, began to chant her name. She had thought Bex was crazy when she suggested Andi do that, but now, hearing everyone call out her name, she was glad she had. It had pushed her completely out of her comfort zone, like when Bex had made her play Ultimate Frisbee. But, she realized now, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Maybe she had spent too much time trying to hide, when she should have been doing things like this all along. Because it felt pretty darn great.

  Amber, however, was not pleased with the response to Andi’s little show. She was especially unimpressed by Jonah’s enthusiastic response. Her eyes narrowed. Then she ran halfway up the stairs so that everyone could see—and hear—her.

  “And let’s not forget about Andi’s new mom,” Amber cried. Clapping her hands, she began to chant, “Bex! Bex! Bex!”

  Confused by the support, but not bothered by it, Andi chanted along with everyone else. She caught Bex’s eye and gave her a big smile. This night would never have happened without her. Thank you, she mouthed.

  Then Amber went on. “And what about Andi’s new dad?” she said. Her voice was insincere and her eyes cold as she pretended to look around the room. “Is he here? We’d love to meet him, too.”

  Andi’s stomach dropped as she felt everyone turn and look at her. All the good feelings that had been rushing through her disappeared, replaced by icy sadness and disappointment. Her limbs felt heavy, and every beat of her heart was slow and painful. As if in slow motion, she swung her head to where Bex stood. Their eyes met. Neither needed to speak to know what the other one was thinking. Bex was mortified—for Andi. And Andi? Andi was mortified for herself.

  Go! Bex mouthed, knowing the best thing for Andi to do now was escape for a bit. She punched a key on the panel in front of her, and the lights went out.

  When they came back on, Andi was gone.

  Andi had gone to the one place that always made her feel better. Andi Shack, the one-room house she and her parents—or rather, her grandparents—had decorated and made into her crafts place was the one spot she could go and feel safe. Always. The walls, lined with colorful art supplies, never judged. The soft pillow that she had decorated didn’t care if she cried on it. Most important, the shack couldn’t lie to her and didn’t have any secrets.

  Sitting on the small porch, Andi stared down at her hands. She looked at the long, thin fingers, with the slightly thicker knuckles and the one visible vein that beat now as her heart struggled to slow and her brain struggled to process what had just happened. Her dad. Who was he? Did her hands look like his? Did he like to dance? Had he ever been completely and utterly humiliated?

  “Hey.”

  Bex’s voice broke through Andi’s thoughts. Looking up, she watched as Bex crossed the lawn and sat down on the porch. “Feel like some company?” Bex asked hopefully.

  “No,” Andi said, answering honestly. She had had enough company for one night. For a lot of nights, actually.

  Unfortunately, Bex didn’t appear to hear her. Or if she did, she chose to ignore her. “That girl has no boundaries,” she said. “What kind of person thinks it’
s okay to come out and ask an intensely personal question like that?”

  For a long moment, the only sounds were the crickets chirping in the woods behind the shack and the muted beat of the music coming from inside the house. Andi wanted to agree with Bex. She wanted to be mad at Amber and think she was horrible and terrible. But Andi had to acknowledge that the only thing Amber had done was ask the same question she herself had been asking Bex for days. “Me,” she finally said. “I do it to you. All the time.” She paused. “Are you ever going to tell me who my dad is?”

  “Of course,” Bex said quickly. Instantly, Andi leaned forward, her hands clutching the sides of her chair with nervous anticipation. “Oh. Like right now?” Bex said, looking suddenly nervous herself.

  “Why not?” Andi said, shrugging. “Are you planning to go back to the party? Because I’m not.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but her eyes were brimming with emotion. “And I don’t really want any pizza.”

  Bex opened her mouth. For one second, Andi felt a glimmer of hope. This was it. She was going to find out who her father was. She was going to hear his name….

  “Bex! Andi!”

  Instead, she heard Cyrus screeching her name. Looking over, she saw her best friend leaning out the back door. His usually carefully coiffed hair was disheveled; his vest was askew and his eyes were wide. Bex and Andi shared a look. This couldn’t be good.

  “Your parents are here!”

  They were wrong. This was way worse than not good. This was, in fact, the end of the world.

  Andi had heard the expression “If looks could kill,” but she had always thought it was an exaggeration. Until now.

  Celia stood staring at Bex and Andi—or rather, glaring at them—her lips pursed. She didn’t say a thing. She hadn’t said a thing since chasing everyone out. She hadn’t said a thing while turning off the music and taking stock of the damage. She hadn’t even said anything when she’d seen the stain on her favorite rug. Her lips had just grown tighter and tighter until they formed one single, thin straight line of disappointment.