Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda(65)

Bram was right: people really are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows. And maybe it’s a good thing, the way we never stop surprising each other.

“Nora’s not bad, right?” says Nick, leaning toward me.

“You knew about this?”

“I’ve been working with her for months. But she told me not to tell you.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because she knew you’d make it a big deal,” he said.

I mean, that’s my family. Everything’s a freaking secret, because everything’s a big deal. Everything is like coming out.

“My parents are going to go nuts about missing this.”

“Nah, I got them here,” Nick says, pointing across the aisle, where I can see the backs of their heads a couple of rows up. They’re leaning toward each other with their heads together. And then I notice the messy knot of dark blond hair sitting next to my mom. It’s funny, but it almost looks like it could be Alice.

Nora smiles her tiny smile, and her hair is loose and wavy, and there’s actually kind of a lump in my throat.

“You look so proud,” whispers Bram.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” I say.

Then Nora’s hand stills against the body of the guitar, and Taylor stops singing, and everyone stops playing, except Leah, who gets this pissed-off, determined look on her face. And then she launches into the most freaking awesome, badass drum solo I’ve ever heard. Her eyes are focused and her cheeks are flushed, and she really looks so pretty. She’d never believe me if I told her.

I turn to look at Bram, but he’s turned the other direction, facing Garrett, and I can see from his cheeks that he’s grinning. And Garrett shakes his head and smiles, and says, “I don’t want to hear it, Greenfeld.”

The song ends, and people yell and cheer as the houselights come on. There’s a swell of movement out the back to the atrium, and we let it pass us. Abby comes out and finds us directly. And then a guy with brown hair and a short red beard slides into the empty row in front of us and smiles at me.

“You’re clearly Simon,” he says.

I nod, confused. He looks familiar, too, actually, but I can’t quite place him.

“Hi. I’m Theo.”

“Theo, like . . . Alice’s Theo?”

“Something like that,” he says, grinning.

“Is she here? What are you doing here?” My eyes flick automatically to where my parents had been sitting, but their row is already empty. “It’s nice to meet you,” I add.

“Likewise,” he says. “So, Alice is in the lobby, but she sent me in with a message for you and, uh, Bram.”

Bram and I exchange glances, while Nick, Abby, and Garrett look on with interest.

“Okay,” he says. “She wanted me to tell you that your parents are about to invite you to some place called The Varsity, and you’re supposed to say you can’t go. And the magic words are that you need to catch up on homework.”

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Theo says, nodding, “apparently, it takes half an hour to get down there, and half an hour to get back, plus all the time spent ordering and eating.”

“Which is completely freaking worth it,” I inform him. “Have you had their Frosted Orange?”

“I have not,” Theo says. “Though, in fairness, I’ve spent a lifetime sum total of five hours in Atlanta. So far.”

“But why doesn’t she want me there?”

“Because she’s giving you two hours at home unsupervised.”

“Oh.” My cheeks are burning. Nick snorts.

“Yup,” Theo says, grinning briefly at Bram. “So, I guess I’ll see you guys out there.” He heads toward the atrium.

I look at Bram, and his eyes are lit with mischief. It’s very un-Bram-like.

“Oh, were you in on this?”

“No,” he says, “but I stand in support.”

“I mean, it’s a little creepy having my sister orchestrate the whole thing.”

He smiles, biting his lip.

“But kind of awesome,” I admit.

So, we head out to the atrium, and I make a beeline for Alice. Bram hangs back, standing with Nick, Abby, and Garrett.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Well,” she says, “little Nick Eisner clued me in that something big was happening. But I’m sorry I missed the play last week, bub.”

“It’s fine. I met Theo,” I say, lowering my voice. “He’s cool.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She smiles self-consciously. “Which one’s yours?”


“Gray zippy sweater, next to Nick.”

“I’m lying. I’ve been stalking him on Facebook,” she says, hugging me. “He’s adorable.”

“I know.”

And then the side door swings open, and the girls of Emoji step into the atrium. Nora actually yelps when she sees us.

“Allie!” she says. She launches toward her. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Connecticut?”

“Because you’re a rock star,” Alice says.

“I’m not a rock star,” Nora says, beaming.

My parents have a majorly Seussish bouquet for her, and they spend about five minutes gushing about her guitar skills. And then they want to gush about the rest of the band and Abby, so we sort of converge into one big group. And Nora is talking to Theo, and my parents are shaking hands with Bram, and Taylor and Abby are randomly hugging. It’s a surreal, wonderful scene.