Love, Love, Love Page 5

  I grabbed my phone and instinctively dialed Molly’s number. She would tell me exactly how to get through this. Ring. She’d tell me to just be myself, only with a Hungarian accent and much cooler. Ring. Then she’d remind me that most guys aren’t very bright, so I should let Julian run the conversation and things would be fine. Ring.

  “Hi, this is Molly! Leave a—” I hung up at the sound of her overly cheerful outgoing message. I was on my own.

  I slowly opened up the bathroom door and peeked into the kitchen. While I knew my current physical state was disastrous, my biggest concern at the moment was actually the location of Henry. Like a shark smelling blood, Henry surely knew something was up. If I was going to pull this off, I had to keep the little brother at bay by throwing some chum into the water.

  “Hey, Henry,” I said sweetly. “You should check out the new game I just downloaded on my iPod Touch. It’s on top of my desk in my room.”

  Henry emerged from behind a potted ficus tree in the kitchen, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “You want me to play with your iPod Touch?” He was clearly in a state of disbelief.

  “Yeah, why not? I downloaded a game called Invader Raiders I think you’d love.”

  “And why exactly are you letting me do this?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I know how much you like my iPod Touch, and I just figured that you’d wanna try this game. But it’s okay if you don’t want to …”

  “No, no … I do! Excellent!” Henry bounded up the stairs.

  Hook, line, and sinker. And now on to more pressing matters.

  I slowly walked to the front of the house and looked back at the stairs one last time to make sure Henry was safely out of view before opening the front door. Julian was perched on the bottom step of my porch, and he turned around the minute I opened the door. His light eyes sparkled with genuine happiness when he saw me. That, coupled with the fact that he looked as gorgeous as ever, made my heart flutter.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling.

  I smiled back. “Hey.” I sat down beside him on the steps, keeping my arms loosely crossed in a lame attempt to cover up my ridiculously patriotic T-shirt. I couldn’t believe he was actually here. At my house. To see me. He looked like he just walked out of a J. Crew catalog, with his short-sleeve shirt and loose cargo shorts. I especially appreciated the opportunity to check out his arms and legs, which, for a slender guy, were toned and muscular. It was all I could do not to gape at his awesome physique.

  “I am mess,” I said, waving a hand in front of my hair. “I work in za garden today.”

  “That’s cool. What are you growing?”

  “Lettuce, tomatoes, and peas, I sink,” I answered quietly. It felt odd to be speaking in my Hungarian accent at home. Neighbors who’d known me since I was in diapers could walk by at any moment. Plus, there was my nosy brother to worry about. He would only be distracted with shiny electronic devices for so long.

  “Nice. My mom’s a total urban farmer. She’s actually a locavore,” he said.

  “Locavore?” I repeated. “What is zis?”

  “It’s like someone who will only eat food that’s grown locally. I guess you could say she’s a little extreme.” He turned to me and smiled shyly. “So, did you have fun Friday night?”

  “Veddy much fun.” I blushed, looking down at my lap. “And for you?”

  “Yeah, definitely. In fact, I think that was the most fun I’ve had going out in a long time,” Julian said.

  I was just about to respond when the sound of a long, low belch reverberated from the side of the house.

  Julian laughed. “What was that?”

  I pretended I hadn’t heard anything as my face turned red. I was running out of time. “Vat vas vat?”

  Then we heard it again. This time it was louder. And closer.

  “That.” Julian turned around just in time to see Henry fall out from behind a rhododendron.

  “Well, hello there. You must be Julian!” Henry walked over with a mischievous smile and stretched out his hand for a firm handshake.

  “That’s right. And you are—”

  “Oh, me? I’m Henry, Janna’s—”

  “Host brudder!” I blurted out in an anxious accent.

  Henry looked at me in confusion. “Your what?”

  I laughed nervously. “Well, you like brudder to me.” I turned to Julian. “Henry is son of my host family.”

  I watched as Henry put two and two together. In a split second, his confusion shifted into unabashed delight, for he knew he had me. The windows of opportunity had just been flung wide open, and I could be certain Henry would take full advantage.

  “Henry, come please.” I stood up and beckoned him into the foyer. “Please excuse, Julian. I be right back.”

  With exaggerated grandiosity, Henry slowly shook Julian’s hand again, no doubt just to prolong my torture. “So nice to meet you, Julian. Come again anytime!”

  “Uh … thanks.”

  As Henry walked into the house, I smiled quickly back at Julian before closing the door and grabbing Henry by the shoulders, trying to assert control over a situation I knew could go south, and fast.

  “What’s with the accent, sis?”

  “Look. Just stay out of my business for once. I mean it. Can you please just do that?” If I sounded desperate, it was because I was. And Henry knew it.

  “Of course I can. What are brudders for?” He paused. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

  “Cost me what? What exactly is it that you want?”

  “Hmmm. Let’s see here. It’s a big, big world, you know.” Henry pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling as if it were the location of a giant toy store.

  “Don’t push it, Henry. Just tell me what you want and then get out of here,” I said furiously.

  “Well, let’s see … I have been wanting the Lego Star Wars Millennium Falcon collector’s edition for some time now,” he said.

  “That’s 300 bucks!” I knew it well, especially since Henry had spent the past three birthdays lobbying for it. His earmarked Lego catalogs had become regular fixtures throughout the house.

  “How about the Imperial Dropship?” I bargained.

  “That’s chump change, sis. General Grievous’s Starfighter?” Henry countered.

  “How much is that one?”

  “Sixty-six dollars,” he said. “I’d say that’s a deal, considering you’re asking me to ignore the identity fraud operation you’re running out of our house.”

  “Coming from a blackmailer, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get over it.” There goes a third of the money I’d saved for Europe. But, then again, I might not be going to Europe in the first place, and dealing with the issue at hand was definitely more important. “Fine! General Grievous’s Starfighter. Deal?”

  “Deal.” We shook on it, and Henry disappeared upstairs gloating about his score.

  When I stepped back outside, Julian was perched on his bike strapping on his helmet. My negotiation with Henry must have taken longer than I thought.

  “I am so soddy,” I said. “Henry can be—”

  “It’s no prob. I have to get going anyway. I just wanted to say hi. You go back to your gardening or whatever, and I’ll see you soon,” Julian said.

  My face dropped at Julian’s abrupt departure. Had he overheard me bargaining with Henry? Was he turned off by my frumpy weekend look? Was he coming to his senses and realizing he was way out of my league?

  Julian seemed to sense my insecurity. “Really, it’s okay. I have to pick up some things for my dad at the hardware store before they close. I’ll text you later. Hopefully we can see each other next weekend, okay?”

  “I would like zis very much,” I said, relieved. I wasn’t ready for this guy to be out of my life just yet. “Sank you for visit.”

  “No worries. See you later.” I watched as Julian biked away, a sense of excitement filling me just knowing this beautiful boy was in my life. Once he was out of sight, I put my head in my h
ands and let the stress escape my body. One possible disaster had been narrowly averted. But somehow I knew the next one was lurking right around the corner.

  “Janna, hurry up or you won’t have time for breakfast before Molly gets here!” my mom called from downstairs.

  “I’ll be down in a sec!”

  It was Monday morning, and I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by rejected outfits. I looked around at the clothes scattered everywhere. Talk about boring. I couldn’t find a thing Janna Ika Ilka would find inspiring enough to wear. How could I possibly have spent my entire teenage existence dressed in such drab and predictable garb?

  I glanced at the clock. Molly was picking me up in five minutes. I had to make something work here. I looked around again at my options. I was just going to have to make do with what I had, starting with … jeans. Everyone wears jeans, right? Even hip Europeans. I climbed into my hippest pair and started my search for a top. Black. The classic urban color. Those people in New York City are always wearing black everywhere they go, right? I scanned my choices and found a simple black T-shirt with three-quarter length sleeves and a ruffle at the bottom. A little last year, but it would have to do. Shoes. These had to make a statement. I got down on my knees and started rifling through the sea of shoes on the floor of my closet. I found a strappy platform shoe with a faux leopard-skin design I had worn, well, never, and slipped it on. I stood up and checked out my progress. Not bad. Plus, the shoe gave me another few inches, which was never a bad thing. Like a gambler in search of a missing lottery ticket, I frantically scrounged for the matching shoe, eventually finding it, but only after I’d broken into a full-fledged sweat.

  Now we’re getting somewhere, I thought as I looked in the mirror once more. But something was still missing. I needed some flair. You know, a little extra somethin’ somethin’. Europeans were always wearing scarves and hats and whatnot, right? Tucked away under my keepsake boxes on the top shelf of my closet, I spotted a piece of funky fabric my aunt had brought back from a trip to Santa Fe. I pulled out the fabric, wrapped it around my neck twice, and tied it in a loose knot, letting the ends hang down along the front of my shirt. The olives and golds in the pattern contrasted nicely with my black shirt. My look was almost complete. I popped open my jewelry box and fished for a pair of never-been-worn, dangly, red agate earrings I had received as a birthday gift last year. Poking them through my neglected ear holes, I leaned back for one last review.

  “Hallo,” I said to the mirror. “I am Janna from Hungary. What do you sink of my outfit?” I stared hard at my reflection, waiting for a reply. When none came, I rolled my eyes at myself. Clearly I had lost it.

  “Good morning, honey,” Mom said when I walked into the kitchen a minute later. She was obviously trying but failing to act as if nothing was different about me.

  “Hey, Mom. I’m running late. I’m just gonna grab a Pop-Tart and take it with me.” I ignored the stares.

  “Um, sis? Why are you wearing your bedspread for a tie?” Henry asked.

  I looked at my mom in annoyance. Did she understand the torture I had to put up with on a daily basis in my very own home?

  “Henry, leave your sister alone. I think she looks quite … nice,” my mom said dubiously.

  Luckily, the sound of Molly’s horn beeping outside saved me from going on with this banal discussion.

  “That’s Molly … gotta run. Viszlát!” I said, using the Hungarian for good-bye.

  As I stepped down off the porch, Emmett got out of Molly’s car to switch to the backseat, doing a second take when he saw me but choosing to keep his mouth shut like any good friend suffering from an acute attack of disapproval would.

  “Hey,” I said as I slid into the front seat. “Happy Monday!”

  “Happy Monday yourself,” said Molly. She was unused to this level of cheer from me, especially at the start of the school week. She eyed me from head to toe before releasing the parking brake and pulling away. “Nice outfit.” Her voice bore a subtle trace of sarcasm, but I chose to ignore it.

  “You like? I just felt this urge to freshen up my look a bit, you know? I have to go shopping, though. I don’t have anything decent in my closet.”

  “That’s right. Damn those indecent clothes from Patagonia and the Gap. How dare they think they’re worthy of being worn by you,” Emmett said dramatically.

  I laughed. I didn’t mind being poked fun at today. In fact, for some reason, I had awoke with an optimism I hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing was going to change my mood—not even a pop quiz in physics (do these teachers not realize it’s the end of the school year? Come on, people!), odd looks from classmates, and a blister the size of Mount Rainier on my little toe resulting from infrequent use of hip sandals, all of which happened before lunch.

  In the caf, I waited until Emmett was out of earshot and Molly and I were sitting across from each other, picking at our lunch, before bringing up the topic of the new men in our lives.

  “So, have you heard from Spence?”

  “No.” She sounded surprised I had even asked. “The requisite three days haven’t passed yet. I am expecting to hear from him tonight, though,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why? You haven’t heard from Julian, have you?”

  “Actually, yes.” I hoped I didn’t sound like I was gloating. “I tried calling you. Julian came by my house.”

  “He what?”

  “Yeah, Julian stopped by my house yesterday. He just kind of showed up on his bike out of the blue.”

  Molly was clearly shocked. “What did you do? I mean, what happened?”

  I relayed the story to Molly in great detail, secretly thrilled by her response. I suspected that Julian’s surprise visit wasn’t par for the course, but I was so inexperienced, I couldn’t be sure.

  “Wow, that’s so weird,” she finally said. “And great, I guess.” Molly didn’t exactly sound like she thought it was so great. Still, I knew she was happy for me, in her own way.

  “You’ll probably hear from Spence tonight,” I said optimistically.

  “I know I will.” Molly shrugged off the conversation as she gathered her lunch trash onto her tray. She stood up. “Hey, I’ve gotta talk to Mr. Thorngate about something before class. I’ll talk to you later?”

  “But of course,” I said in accent with a wink.

  Molly had a dentist appointment in the afternoon, so I took the bus home from school. I began hobbling the four blocks from the bus stop to my house, anxious to get out of my ridiculous shoes and give my feet some much needed relief. I also wanted to try and wrap up my extra-credit paper for cultural studies. Ms. Kendall was being uncharacteristically agreeable and had told me that if I turned in my report by Wednesday, she would read it over the weekend and give me my grade by Monday. Since Monday also happened to be the cutoff for when Molly’s mom had to confirm our flights, this was all the motivation I needed. Talk about coming down to the wire.

  If it were possible, I was even more excited about the trip now that I was pretending to actually be from Europe. I was starting to love the way I felt when I was in character, and I had the feeling that traveling through Europe would give me more opportunities to tap into this more confident, more interesting Janna. Maybe Europeans would actually see me as a mysterious American? Wait a minute. Do Europeans even find Americans mysterious? No matter. The trip represented so much of what I wanted, I could barely stand it.

  Visions of eating baguettes at outdoor cafés along the Champs-Élysées were swimming in my head when my cell rang. I grabbed my phone and smiled. Julian! I cleared my throat before answering.

  “Hallo?”

  “Hey, Janna, it’s Julian.”

  “Hallo, Julian!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I am walking to house from zee bus stop,” I said. “What goes on vis you?”

  I heard Julian chuckle.

  “What is eet? Why do you laugh?”

  “Sorry. It’s the accent. It’s just so cute.”


  “Oh, you sink so?” I said coyly. Um, hello. When exactly had I become an expert flirter? I almost felt possessed.

  “Yes, I do think,” he said. “Just like you.”

  I was at a loss for words. No guy had ever said anything remotely like this to me before.

  “So, when can I see you again?”

  “I don’t know. Zis weekend?”

  “Well, yeah, definitely this weekend, but how about before then? I have a rugby game on Wednesday. Do you wanna come? Wait a minute, do you know what rugby is? Do they play rugby in Hungary?”

  Yikes. Did they play rugby in Hungary? I did a quick mental scan of the printouts Molly had given me on Hungarian leisure and recreational activities. My mind drew a blank, so I flipped a mental penny and chose heads. “Of course vee have rugby in Hungary!”

  “Okay, cool. Just checking. I’ll text you the info about my game. No pressure or anything. But it would be cool if you could come.”

  “Okay. I try.” Was I ready to introduce Janna Ika Ilka to the student body of the Collins School? The idea of such a public outing made me extremely nervous.

  By Wednesday morning I still hadn’t decided whether or not to go. On the one hand, I wanted to see Julian. That was a given. I mean, the idea of watching him running around the rugby field all sweaty and strong sounded pretty good to me. I also thought it would be interesting to see him in his element, that it might shed more light on who he really was. And the more insight I could get, the better. While we’d had a great time on Friday night, and since then he’d called, texted, and even dropped by my house, I still wasn’t sure why he liked me. Part of me was still worried he was just trying to score with the foreign chick. But I was more than open to being proven wrong.

  The downside of attending the game was that the risks were high. Yes, Seattle was a big city, but it had a smalltown feel. The odds of running into someone I knew at a high school sporting event were pretty high. Not that I wanted this facade to last forever, but I was just starting to embrace my inner renaissance woman. I wasn’t ready to bid viszlát to her just yet.