Page 11 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

“Get me a blueberry muffin, please,” Mandy said. Candy would handle this. Everything would be okay. Trout was basic anyway. Mandy repeated these things over and over in her head.

Ashley took the phone away from her mouth. “They say breakfast is ov—”

“Blueberry muffin!” Mandy yelled. Then in a much calmer voice added, “Please.”

“We don’t care how much it costs,” Ashley said to whomever she was talking to.

At that moment Mandydidn’tcare. She needed something to go right—to feel like things were back on track. To feel like she was in control.

But she wasn’t, and the more time ticked on, the more it felt like she never would be again.

Chapter Six

December 1998

Mandy sat on thefloor in her bedroom, legs stretched out to her sides as far as they could go with her tape, scissors, and the special wrapping paper she picked out for one particular gift in a pile in front of her. The paper featured Santa with a soccer ball, playing with his reindeer—it wasn’t baseball, but it was the thought that counted, right? After several attempts that ended with torn and crumpled balls scattered around her, she steadied her hands and tried again. It had to be just right. If it wasn’t, how would Brandon know how much she liked him? She checked and double-checked before she cut and only used small pieces of tape. The bandage between her fingers from an early paper cut made it a little more difficult, but she couldn’t get blood on it like her last failed attempt—that was just gross. Mandy folded and creased and tucked the corners in, and finally she had done it. Satisfied, she finished by sticking a big red bow right in the center.

Perfect.

Brandon was going to freak out when he saw the personalized jersey Mandy bought for him. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. He was, after all, her firstrealboyfriend, and they had been dating for almost three whole months.

She kept a shoebox full of all the notes they’d exchanged, folded into little heart shapes. Brandon wasn’t much of a writer, usually responding in a couple of sentences to Mandy’s paragraphs, but she didn’t mind.

Mandy’s warm cheeks hurt from smiling so big looking down at his gift. Ever since Brandon started going to the ballpark with Mandy, she actually enjoyed herself—even if Brandon spent most of the time watching the game. It wasn’t like she could get mad at him since Dad was the same way with football at home. Dad’s time at the baseball game was spent between watching the field and “networking,” which Mandy decided at the time was just a fancy way to say talking to other adults.

In other words, boring.

But watching Brandon get so excited when the Dodgers scored made it all worth it. Just like giving this gift would be worth emptying her piggy bank—all her saved birthday and tooth fairy money from years ago combined. Mom wasn’t happy about Mandy’s choice. Miss Heather—Mandy’s therapist—suggested she might want to offer a smaller token. But Mandy had already drawn him more pictures than she could count. She imagined he had them all hanging on the wall in his bedroom—maybe one day he would invite her over so she could see for herself—so this had to be something extra special. It had to be the perfect gift.

“Mandy, we have to go,” Mom called from downstairs. “We’re going to be late.”

“Coming,” Mandy yelled back as she struggled to push the present under her bed. It was already pretty full with the ones for Mom, Dad, Isa, and Miss Heather. She would have to clean up the rest of the mess later before her mom saw it.

“Mandy!” Mom bellowed again. “Come on.”

They were just going to her school’s winter festival event, which meant they didn’t have to be there at any certain time, but Mandy wasn’t going to bring this up.

She ran to the stairs and slid down the banister so fast Mom didn’t have time to yell at her not to.

“Amanda Elizabeth Dean. What have I told you about that?” Mom’s hands were perched on her hips and her lips were pursed, but Mandy was pretty sure she was fighting not to laugh.

Dad chuckled. “I did it all the time when I was her age, and I turned out okay.”

Mom gave Dad the look. “Not helping.” Mom turned to grab her purse, and Dad winked at Mandy.

Mandy skipped along the driveway and hopped into the back seat of Mom’s car as her parents got into the front. The Winter Carnival at GAT—more formally known as the School for the Gifted and Talented—was the most important fundraiser of the year, and everyone who went to school there, and a bunch of alumni that were still in the area, attended. Between the field and the parking lot there was enough room to set up rides and games where you could win prizes, and they even had cotton candy, fried Oreos, and all the fun fair food—as Dad liked to call it. Mandy liked all those things, and this year she was planning to ride the Ferris wheel with Brandon. They’d sit close—knees touching—and hold hands.

Would he want to kiss her?

She’d been dreaming about it. When they went to the ballpark, they were always with Mandy’s parents, and no way would she do that in front of them. But on the Ferris wheel, they could be alone, and then when they got stuck at the top, no one would even see. It would be perfect, and oh so romantic. Just like a scene in a movie.

On the drive over, Mandy didn’t even complain about Dad’s music choice that had way too much drumming. All she could think about was Brandon, her Ferris wheel ride, and her (hopefully) first kiss.

Soon Mom parked, and the three of them walked past lines of cars. The sweet scent of sugar and salt of over-buttered popcorn wafted through the air. Screams of joy—or terror—from rides like the Gravitron and the Zipper could be heard blocks away.

“What do you want to do first?” Mom asked.

Mandy and Dad exchanged a look and together they responded, “Corn dogs.”

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