Between the Stacks

Chapter 15

On Saturday morning I was greeted by an unexpected alert on my phone: You have a new message from GigConnecter.

It could only be Mr. Oodles of Noodles. I was so surprised to see the alert that I messed up the passcode on my phone twice before finally unlocking it. It didn't help that I was still in bed, precariously leaning towards the side of the bed where my phone was plugged into the wall.

I opened the message.

Hi Emma! I know you said you would get back to me if the event was approved. I just wanted to let you know that I'm performing tonight at a restaurant downtown on Sat. Maybe you could attend and see what the vibe is like? It could count as research ;)

There was a winky face.

"What does that mean?" I said out loud to my empty bedroom. It was nine in the morning. Far too early for winky faces. Then I noticed he had sent the message late last night. Certainly later than what anyone would call business hours.

Interesting.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it would be a good chance to see his famous pasta sweater in action. I resolved to mentally refer to him Jack from now on; Mr. Oodles of Noodles didn't sound as good when I was in bed.

Hi Jack! I'll be happy to come along. What are the deets?

I sent the message and immediately regretted it. The deets? Was I trying to sound too cool? Because I was probably the least cool person on the planet.

Moaning, I unplugged my phone and threw it on my blankets for dramatic effect. At least it was still early. The day was salvageable.

I wasn't hungover, either. Melissa and I had chatted for an hour last night before being joined by Matteo. Rob had dropped by when he wasn't too busy behind the bar. I didn't tell them about the performance plan. The last thing I wanted was for Melissa to feel worse than she already did.

It was a new day, and I wanted to make the most of it. The morning passed quickly as I wrote down more fundraising ideas - a bake sale, a book sale, a charity auction - and sent the list to the group chat I had with Melissa, Matteo, and Rob. They were certainly small things, although they were better than nothing.

By the time lunch rolled around I realized I had two missed messages on my phone. The first was from Jack, who had indeed sent me the "deets" of his performance tonight. The second was a text from Mom.

I spoke to Alex tonight. He said you haven't contacted him lately???

I bit the inside of my cheek. Nothing could derail my day faster than a text like that. So I did the most emotionally unhealthy thing I could think of: I ignored it.

Clothes would be an excellent distraction. My closet could be divided into two sections: weekend clothes (jeans, t-shirts) and work clothes (decent but cheap outfits that wouldn't be ruined when a toddler would inevitably color me with a marker).

I settled on a floral dress that looked nicer than it felt. The cotton was scratchy, and it rubbed weirdly against my shoulders. I wasn't quite sure why I felt I had to dress up for this meeting. It was absolutely, one hundred percent not a date.

Or was it?

No. Absolutely not. I usually paired the floral dress with heels for a night out with friends, but in this case I settled on a pair of old definitely-not-a-date sandals.

I took the bus downtown and followed the directions on my phone. I was led to a small family restaurant sandwiched between a jewelry store and a burrito place. Ignoring the lure of burritos, I stepped into the restaurant and into a scene of chaos.