Call the Shots (Swim the Fly #3)(5)

“Eyes ahead,” I instruct. “We’ve got to get you so you can do this on your own.” Like, now.

“I don’t know,” Evelyn says, staring forward again. “I kind of like skating like this.”

It’s strange, but she’s much more attractive from the side. Not like a “Yeah, I’ve got to tap that” kind of attractive. But certainly an improvement over how she appears face-to-face. I guess that’s what people mean by having a “best side.” Evelyn’s is definitely her left one by a good margin.

I wonder if I should mention this to her. So when she gets her picture taken, she can always pretend she’s looking off at something over to her right.

As I debate this with myself, the lights are suddenly dimmed and some slow, sappy love song starts playing over the loudspeakers. A disco ball is lowered from the center of the ceiling and casts little squares of light all over the place.

“Couples skate,” a guy announces in a deep Darth Vader-ish voice. “Couples only.”

“Hey, we can stay on,” Evelyn caws, crushing my hand. “Because there’s two of us.”

“Yeah.” I look around at all the other couples joining us on the ice and feel like someone just dumped a fistful of itching powder down my boxers. People are going to think I actually asked her to skate. “Great.”

I sigh quietly. But then I think, So what? So what if people think I asked Evelyn to skate with me? It’s not like she’s so hideous. And it’s certainly not like I have any other prospects. Besides, Evelyn seems to really be enjoying herself. Let her have her fun. Maybe I’ll bank some karma points with the girlfriend gods.

See, he’s a nice guy. Let’s send him someone really special.

“I love this song!” Evelyn sways in time to the beat as the female singer bellows on about how people wait their whole lives for a moment like this.

“Careful now,” I shout over the music. “Focus on your balance. Don’t get too carried away.”

“I’m already carried away.” She looks over at me as the song swells, her eyes wide and wet like a love-starved puppy.

Oh, crap. I think I might have boarded a runaway train here. Not good.

I flip through the possible excuses in my head. Food. Bathroom. Leg cramp. They all sound so made-up. And nowhere near good enough to make her release the death grip she’s got on my hand.

Still, it’s not fair to lead her on.

I’m about to throw myself to the ice under the guise that I’ve lost an edge on my skate blade when Coop and Helen glide up next to us, the flickering fairy lights of the disco ball dancing across their faces. Helen gives me a big smile. Coop shoots me a way-to-go wink and thumbs-up combo.

I glance over at Evelyn again. The muted lights make the left side of her face that much more appealing. Cute, even.

Could I overlook all that other stuff — the voice, the whiff of cheese, the sweaty palms — for a girl with a moderately pleasant profile?

Yeah, I think I probably could. I mean, I’m not looking for someone to marry. I just want a girlfriend. Someone to go to the movies with. And watch TV with. And to hang out along with my friends.

Besides, everyone says you should play the field before you settle down. This would just be like that. Who knows? Maybe we’d really get along.

And then, out of the blue, I get a pang of uncertainty. Like, what if I read the signs wrong? What if I imagined that look of longing in her eyes? What if I make a move and she smacks me down? Rejected by a sort-of-homely ninth-grader. That would not look good on the dating résumé.

Suddenly, just as the cornball song reaches a crescendo, Evelyn’s skate blade catches a rut and she trips.

I grasp her hand tightly and pull her up before she hits the ice.

“Oh, my God.” Evelyn gazes into my eyes, her arms somehow having wound up around my neck. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I ask, wondering if she popped her shoulder or something.

We’re standing in the middle of the rink, all the other couples streaming past us like a river around a rock.

“The lyrics to the song,” Evelyn says breathlessly. “She was singing about how she wants someone to catch her when she falls. And then you caught me just as I was falling! It’s a sign, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t really listen —”

Evelyn leaps up and smashes her mouth against mine. Her tongue pries open my lips and she’s exploring the inside of my mouth like a spelunker searching for cave treasure. There’s a moment when I think she’s actually playing tetherball with my uvula.

Part of me wants to detach Evelyn from my face, but another part — a lower part — is enjoying the kiss too much, however ferocious it might be. My eyes dart around like crazy as I try to guide the two of us out of traffic and toward the boards.

When I finally get us to safety, she pulls away with a loud wet smack, biting my lower lip like a wild animal.

Evelyn’s out of breath. She’s staring at me with this strange hungry look in her eyes. Like if she could, she would actually eat my entire head.

She grabs me in a powerful hug, pressing her cheek to my chest and squeezing the air from my lungs. “I guess this means we’re going out now, huh?”

“Uhhh.” I choke. “I . . . um . . .” My brain is short-circuiting. Can’t focus. Though the throbbing in my boxers is unmistakable.