-Two and a Half-

“So that’s how you ended up throwing rocks at my window with my ex-best friend?” I ask suspiciously.

“Um… yeah. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Welcome for what? I finally trust someone enough to tell them the whole story, and you immediately go and drag the person I currently hate most in the world to my house at seven o’ clock at night to try and get me to talk to him?”

“I’m sorry. Would you have preferred seven thirty?”

Despite my hatred for my current predica-ment, I find myself laughing. “Why do you have to try to cheer me up?” I ask. “You know it’s not going to work.”

She smirks. “I know. Just… All I’m asking is that you try to talk to him, okay?”

I cast her an evil glare out of the corners of my eyes. “Okay.”

We walk back into the kitchen, where Tom is petting Sophie. I hate him for petting my dog. I also hate him for looking cute while doing so.

“Hey,” I say. Then I turn to Twister. “See? I tried. Oh, well. What a loss.”

“Since when did you have the smart mouth?” asks Twister.

“Must be contagious.”

“Want some ice for that burn?” Tom joins in on the insult contest. I try to give him an icy stare, but his smile prevents me from doing so. I end up halfway with a pained-looking grimace.

My mom comes down the stairs. “It’s nine o’clock, there are three loud teenagers standing around in my kitchen, and I have a nine-year-old boy who just finished a chapter of Harry Potter and wants to go to bed,” she says. “Please, get out of my house and go do something for once. It’s Saturday night. If you want me to drive you somewhere, let me know.”

We discuss this for a bit.

“Let’s go see Star Trek,” suggests Twister.

“We already did,” says Tom. “Besides, I don’t think it’s running anymore.”

“I missed it?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who didn’t leave my room for two weeks.”

Twister sticks out her tongue at him. “We could see Harry Potter…”

“Saw it,” we reply together this time. I shoot another deadly glare at Tom.

“So? It’s Harry Potter. You can see it more than once… Besides, I think it’s playing in IMAX now.”

We decide to go see Harry Potter in IMAX. We all sit in the back of my mom’s minivan; me on the left, Tom on the right, and Twister in the middle. I glare at Tom the whole ride.

When we get to the movie theater, Twister goes off to buy popcorn, leaving me and Tom alone together. I stand on my tiptoes, trying to find a cute guy to flirt with. I choose a guy who looks like he skateboards and walk over to him. Tom follows.

“Hey,” I say to the guy.

“Hey,” he says.

“What the hell are you doing?” asks Tom.

“Talking,” I reply.

“Is he your boyfriend?” asks Skater Boy.

“No.”

“Oh, of course! I’m not your boyfriend, but you kiss me and tell me you love me the day be-fore I move, and then never talk to me again while maintaining a status as a desperate flirt? Do you do that to all the guys you date now?” Tom’s getting really mad. I’m more furious with every word he says.

“Oh, and you expected me to talk to you again after I walked in on you making out with another girl only an hour later? And, by the way, you kissed me. And you told me you loved me first, by the way.” I fully realize that I’m ranting, but I don’t care.

Skater Boy calmly sips his slushie, watch-ing us with interest. “Sounds like you two have a lot to talk about. Mind if I pretend to be Dr. Phil?”

“Sorry, that position’s already taken.” Twister’s back with a giant bag of popcorn. “You could be Oprah if you want, though.”

“Do I get featured on your show?”

“Was that a pickup line?”

“No, that was a joke.” Skater Boy turns to me. “What’s your friend’s name? I’m afraid she’ll
think I like her if I ask,” he stage-whispers.

“Oh, shut it!” Twister jokingly slaps him across the face.

Skater Boy rubs his right cheek in false pain. “Was that a love hit?”

Twister laughs. “My name’s Malone, but if you ever call me that, I’ll give you fifty mil-lion
more ‘love hits’.” Her fingers scratch the air with quotation marks.

Skater Boy raises one eyebrow and gives her a half-smile. “See, that just makes me want to call you… Malone.” He says the last word in a half-whisper.

Twister narrows her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. “You asked for it!” She takes off her brown hoodie and starts attacking him with it, laughing.

“My name’s George, by the way,” he says between “love hits.” By this point, we’re all laughing.

“I think the movie’s gonna start soon,” says Tom. We all walk into the giant theatre.

Even the previews manage to look utterly epic on the giant screen. Then, as if by magic, we’re swept into the movie. This has to be one of my all-time favorite Harry Potters.

I’m sitting in between Twister and Tom, partially because George wants me and Tom to sit together, partially because Twister wants me and Tom to sit next to each other, and partially because George and Twister want to sit together.

When we get to the scene where Hermione sends a bunch of birds to attack Ron in a fit of rejection, Twister leans over and whispers to me. “See? That’s just like you and Tom!” she ex-claims.

I roll my eyes. “No, it’s not. Hermione and Ron eventually make up.”

“…So who says that you and Tom won’t?”

“Me.”

She sighs. “Suit yourself, then.”

When the movie ends, everyone stands up and claps. I’m about to call my mom and ask for a ride home when Twister and George decide that they want to go to the Shiny Diner. Actually, George decides that he wants to go to the Shiny Diner. Twister decides that she wants to go too, because she’s never been before; and since Tom and I are her ride home, and since it’s only across the street, how could Tom and I be so cold and heartless as to deprive her of a chance to go to the Shiny Diner for the first time?

So I call my mom and ask her if we can go to the Shiny Diner before she picks us up. She rejoices.

“So,” says George, leaning back in a slip-pery green seat with his hands behind his head. “Why haven’t we met before? I mean, we all go to the same school, right?”

“Well,” says Twister thoughtfully. “You haven’t met me yet because I just moved from Indiana. I don’t know about those two, though.”

“Actually…” George scratches the imaginary stubble on his chin and squints his eyes a bit, the picture of deep thought. “No. Never mind.”

“What?” I want to know.

“It’s nothing… Just, you know how you get those déjà vu moments? It’s just one of those, okay?”

I still feel like he’s hiding something as I order my grilled cheese, but I ignore it. I’m never going to find out if I keep pushing. Be-sides, something tells me that Twister would love to try and find out for me.

I actually have a lot of fun for the rest of the night. I’m actually reluctant to leave when my mom picks us up. I actually kind of want to be friends with Tom again.

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