Electric Moonlight Shuffle

4. Matchmaker

"Hey Wren." Flynn comes up to me at lunch. He holds a tray piled with food: seven slices of pizza, an order of fries, two blue Gatorades. "Hey guys."

Across the table, Jamie waves. Dean Potts and Meghan O'Hara, the other kids we're sitting with, briefly stop sucking face to acknowledge Flynn's presence, but immediately turn right back to each other.

"Are you free tomorrow night,?" says Flynn.

Across the table, Jamie smirks.

"She's totally free. I'm going out and her other friends are busy," he says, motioning to Dean and Meghan.

I dunk a California roll in soy sauce and pretend Jamie didn't just say that.

"Sweet," says Flynn, oblivious. "Do you want to hang out? Not like a date, just to make out?"

"Actually," says Jamie. I stare him down. I know where this is going and I hate it. Burst into flames, burst into flames! But Jamie does not burst into flames, and instead keeps talking: "There's that Carnival downtown. The Red Rainbow Carnival? You guys should check it out. It's lots of fun. To, you know, make out at." Flynn eats one of my California rolls. "Totally love-free."

I look to Meghan and Dean like HELP ME but they're too into each other to notice anything about anyone else.

Flynn raises his eyebrows. "I'm down if you are," he says.

I look up at Flynn. His hair, up in a bun, is a little lopsided in the most adorable way. Seriously, how can anyone say no to that beautiful man-bun man?

"Sure," I say. "Sounds great."

"Cool," says Flynn, grinning. "I'll text you?"

"Cool," I say. "I might text you back."

Flynn laughs. "Cool," he says, and walks away.

Jamie stares at me, smiling stupidly like the oversized child he is.

I wait until Flynn is back at his table with the other jocks, well out of earshot, to throw a soy-sauce soaked California roll at Jamie, which he deflects like a mini-volleyball. "You're the motherfucking worst," I say. "Now it's an actual date."

Jamie laughs. "You're welcome."