TWENTY SEVEN
The auditorium fills with applause a 'boys-only' dance group trudges breathlessly off stage after performing. I grab my mic and make my way back onto the stage, alone, because Dean disappeared just before the performance started and hasn't returned.
It's another day of no class and yet the auditorium is packed. We were nervous that people wouldn't show up (why come to school when we don't have too?) but everyone is here and the best part is that they want to be.
From my spot on the stage, I can see everything, from Ms Fitz and Mr Daniel whispering in a corner, to Gat who's being creepy (and cute) by staring at the back of Macey's head like that'll make her turn around and fall in love with him again.
Even though I'm convinced she is. In love with him, I mean. But I won't get into any Gatwick and Macey theories.
I also spot Cole, talking to some poor unsuspecting girl who has clearly fallen for his dimples and hopefully nothing else. He looks up and catches me staring, then winks before I can look away. It makes me so angry that I want to fling the mic and hit him smack! in the forehead (maybe that'll knock some sense into him). But instead, I smile at the crowd and announce the next performance.
It's Max Fisher, doing a poem called: To the Girl Who Owes Me A Dollar Or Another Kiss.
I stand to the side of the stage and listen to him speak in that voice he saves just for poems. I smile when I remember the kissing booth incident at the mini fair, especially when I spot the girl, Lily, looking at Max with big dazed eyes.
"In fact, keep the dollar." Max says, making the point of turning to look in Lily's direction, "And give me your love instead."
Aw.
Someone cheers at that line. I think it's my History teacher. Just as Max finishes and there's applause once again, someone grabs my hand and stops me from getting back on stage. "I'm back."
Dean.
Turning to face him I say, "Two hours later." and then I smile at him so he knows I'm not mad at him.
"Someone can't tell the time." He takes the mic from me and grins. "I'll do the next one."
I nod and watch him get back onto the stage. Next to me, a group of girls are doing vocal warm ups. Their ahhs, ohhs and umms are distracting. I mentally block it out and look towards the stage. But instead of Dean standing there announcing the next performance, he's seated, a mic on a stand in font of him, and a guitar slung around his shoulder.
Wait.
What?
"This isn't my song, guys." Dean licks his lips, "Obviously." He laughs.
It's not funny.
Dean Pinkette is nervous and it's so cute. He clears his throat and looks down at his guitar and strums a few notes. I hear him take a deep breath. And then he sings. And his voice is beautiful.
"Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City? You're a thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty, Yes you do..."
My heart beat slows down then beats so fast and loud, for a moment I'm afraid everyone can hear it. I have to take a deep breath to calm myself down.
"Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me."
The whole school is quiet as he performs, teachers, guys, girls, everyone. I stare at him as he plays, just like all the other girls, though I hope I don't look half as dazzled as them. In fact, I hope I don't look dazzled at all. He looks up when he's done and smiles coyly at his audience, then runs a hand through his hair. It's so natural. So perfect.
The applause is thunderous.
I grin at him as he smiles and bows, my smile growing impossibly wider when he looks at me. I wonder if Mr Pinkette has ever heard Dean sing. Because who would want to stop the world from hearing a voice like that?
The girl next to me squeals so loudly that I turn around and stare. "It's him you guys! It has to be." She flashes her friends her phone, where the Double Tap app is open. She twirls her hair and looks at the stage,"He's one of the few guys who play the guitar."
"It could also be Connor Fields. He's cute too." Her friend pipes in, only to receive the evil eye.
"But Dean is ten times cuter." The girl sighs.
Suddenly my stomach is in knots. What if she was right? What if she was the one matched with Dean all along? A wave of disappointment washes over me. What if everything else was one huge and cruel coincidence? Oh no. What if it really is Cole after all?
Please, God. No.
I turn back to the stage and watch Dean climb down the stairs and join me at the bottom. People are still cheering. Someone screams for an encore.
"How was it?" He really wants to know. Despite the fact that the whole school is swooning over him (at least all the girls), he wants to know what I think.
"Amazing."I say honestly, "You'd be a great musician."
"So, do music?"
I nod at him enthusiastically, "Uh huh. Do music."
And then my arms are opening and so are his and then we're hugging. I don't know why. But his hug is nice and I don't want to be anywhere else but here. Arms in the right places, my curly head on his chest. I can hear the sound of his heart, steady and beautiful, like the strumming of a guitar.
I pull away, finally and head up the stairs to the stage, to announce the next performance.
***
"Ben and... Mari Watson." Dean suggests and he's laughing before the words even get out. We're at The Cheer Up Factory again and are matching people, just for fun. So far, all our matches have been absurd, but this one is by far the worst.
"No. Freaking.Way." I say and laugh too.
Ben is tall and mean, with his hair gelled into spikes on his head. Everyone is scared of him, even some teachers. Once, he even punched a guy in the jaw because he called him Hulk. Mari is sweet and kind and tiny and them matched together just wouldn't make any sense.
"It could happen." Dean says, "Especially with the glitch."
"Oh yeah." Sometimes, I forget.
The Cheer Up Factory is packed, as usual, and funky, retro music is blaring from the speakers. A waitress does a twirl on her roller skates as she delivers a hot plate of wings to the table next to us and I have to say that I'm really impressed. I'm also really glad Dean brought me here in the first place. I take my glass and take a sip.
"Hear this one." Dean says, stealing one of my fries. "You and me." I nearly spit out my orange soda. He looks at me as he chews, his face not giving away a thing.
"Oh come on, Pinkette." I say, trying to hide my smile by shaking my head. "Let's not be ridiculous."
I deliver the lie so well, I want to pat myself on the back. Meanwhile, Dean face is expressionless as he looks down at his plate.
"It's not the worst thing in the world." He says, his voice defensive, almost.
I know, Dean. It's not.
***
I don't say much for the rest of the trip home. Just think things over, how everything has changed in the last 24 hours. Or maybe more than that.
Maybe from the start of this whole Valentine's Day committee thing, something was changing in the universe, stars were aligning, fates and fortunes coming into action.
Maybe from the very beginning, from the day I was born, all of this was meant to happen. Maybe the other Valerie was never meant to get involved. It was Dean and me, all along, from very start.
It was nice and weird to think that my whole life was already planned out. I was an actor, but I didn't even know the script. And someone, somewhere was watching : Valerie Blythe, The Movie!: How Things Turned Out (And did she ever stop rolling her eyes?). And at the end, the credits would roll and everyone I'd ever met in my life would be there.
Maybe that's the way it was. Maybe I was always going to fall for Dean Pinkette.