Last Year's Mistake - Gina Ciocca Page 0,15

you want me to blow some up for you?”

“Sure. And maybe I can make him an IOU for a gift or something.”

A little while later, with cookies, balloons, and IOU in tow, I headed through our backyard to the woods. David lived around the corner, and with all the times we’d been to each other’s houses, it hadn’t taken long to figure out that walking or riding our bikes through the streets was actually the long way. If I cut across my backyard and kept going, I’d end up in his yard, and vice versa.

A few minutes later I emerged in the clearing and tiptoed around to the front, fumbling to ring the doorbell with my armload of goodies. Mr. Kerrigan answered the door.

“Kelsey!” he said. “What’s all this?”

He held the door for me and I stepped inside the house. With the exception of the décor, our homes were identical: small, boxy split-levels. Except the Kerrigans’ layout was the reverse of ours, and it always made me feel like I’d stepped into a bizarro alternate universe where everything was the opposite of what it should be.

“Your son failed to mention he had a birthday coming,” I said.

“Ah, he never lets me make a fuss over him either. Too old for that now, I suppose.”

“Who’s old?” David poked his head down from the stairwell. A look of surprise rippled over his face when he saw me. “Kelse? I thought you were going out with Eric this afternoon.”

David had asked if I wanted to do math homework together after school, and I’d fibbed about having plans. But after what had happened in the hall earlier, I didn’t care to make plans with Eric or anyone else. Except David.

I held up the dish of cookies and flushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I lied. Happy birthday.”

The smile on David’s face, the way he looked completely mortified and thoroughly flattered all at once, made it entirely worth it. We stood there grinning like idiots at each other until David finally said, “Come on up. Now that you’re here I can help you with those math problems.”

Mr. Kerrigan snatched a cookie from a spot where the hastily applied plastic wrap had come loose, winking at me as he took a bite. He sent me off with a pat on my back, and I followed David upstairs. As I set the plate down, I noticed a silver medal sitting inside an open box on his desk. It was a religious medal, the kind my aunt Tess kept in the glove box of her car. It was supposed to be like a guardian angel watching over you on the road.

“Is that for when you start driving?” I asked.

“Yep, another gift from my dad. I’ll need all the help I can get with the hunk of junk I’ll be cruising in.”

“You’re getting a car? Nice!”

“Not for a while, and ‘scrap metal’ might be a better term, but yup. ‘They see me rollin’. They hatin’.’ ”

“Oh my God.” I laughed. “Quoting bad rap lyrics? I think you need a cookie.”

As I started to unwrap the dish, I saw three birthday cards standing up on his desk. One from his mother, one from his father, and one that looked handmade. Let me rephrase that: and one that had clearly been handmade by a girl.

I tilted my head to see the signature, then wrinkled my nose in confusion. It was signed, “xoxo, Amy.”

“Amy Heffernan made you a birthday card?” I picked it up to look more closely. “How did she even know?”

“Because it was a Spanish assignment. We had to pick names and find out when that person’s birthday is. Then we have to make them a feliz cumpleaños card when it comes.”

“ ‘Xoxo,’ huh? That’s some advanced español.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hugs and kisses don’t mean anything in Spanish? I think Miss Amy is trying to say a little more than feliz cumpleaños.”

David cocked his head. “Do you sign your cards to Eric with x’s and o’s?”

I was fairly certain that if I’d ever given Eric a card, I definitely hadn’t signed it with x’s and o’s, and never would. Especially since our “relationship” had fizzled like a defective firecracker before it even started.

“No,” I said. “And I didn’t sign my IOU with x’s and o’s either, but I think you’ll get the point.” I grabbed the piece of paper off the cookie dish and handed it to him.

“Kelse! All this is enough.” He motioned toward the cookies and balloons. “You don’t have