Page 12 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

“I don’t even know why I asked.” Mom started pulling prepaid food tickets from her purse. There wasn’t a price of admission, but everything needed tickets. Food, rides, games—and they were all different.

It was already packed as Mandy entered with her parents and snaked through the masses of people. Her art teacher had a stand set up for drawing caricatures, and her PE teacher staffed a booth where you could kick a ball through a board where giant faces with their mouths wide open were painted. The whole kindergarten class was setting up on a stage getting ready to sing a few songs. Mandy had done that when she was their age. But so far, no Brandon.

Excitement bubbled in Mandy’s chest as she entered the food tent and got in line with her parents, searching the crowd. Her friend Laura sat at a long table with the rest of her gigantic family. They were easy to spot since almost all of them had the same raven-black hair—some of them had straight hair and some curly, but it all was so black it looked almost blue, which stood out against their mostly cream-colored skin. Clay and José—Brandon’s friends—were goofing around near the beverage stand. Mandy’s other friend Sara stood waiting for chicken nuggets on the opposite side of the tent with her mom, who wore the most beautiful sari—that’s what Sara had told Mandy the dresses her mom always wore were called. There were a bunch of other kids from her class too, but still no Brandon. He should’ve been with Clay—since they were as tight as Mandy and Isa—so maybe he didn’t come? But that didn’t make any sense. He had to be around there somewhere.

As soon as Mom handed Mandy her corn dog, Mandy asked, “Can I go look for people?”

Dad glanced at his watch. “Check back here in one hour.”

Mandy raced off.

“One hour,” Dad called after her.

“One hour,” Mandy parroted to let her parents know she was listening.

Surely, she would be able to find Brandon and ride the Ferris wheel with him within the hour. Since he wasn’t in the food tent, maybe he was in line to take pictures with his family in front of the school. That was another big draw for this event. The school hired a professional photographer, and most of the pictures taken ended up on Christmas cards that Mom wouldlater put on display until the first weekend of January, when all the decor would be cleaned up and put away for next year—and the cards tossed in the garbage.

Mandy bobbed and wove her way through the crowd, past the kiddie rides where some toddlers screeched as they zoomed along in minicars on a small track, and others rode horses on the merry-go-round. When she came to the front of the school and didn’t spot him—only his parents talking in a group of adults—Mandy pivoted and headed for the games. Of course he must be there. Probably trying to win the biggest stuffed bear for Mandy. Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner?

People threw darts at balloons and balls at bottles; the crashes and squeals of excitement merged with ringing bells, but Mandy ignored them all. At one point someone—Sara maybe—yelled her name, but Mandy was on a mission. She ducked behind a group of high schoolers and kept hunting.

Her time was running out. She would have to check in with her parents soon, and then she’d have to stand in line for their picture to be taken, and by that time Isa would be there, and they always went on the Scrambler together, then spent the rest of their time alternating between snacking and more rides, always ending on the Tilt-a-Whirl with as many people as they could pack into one carriage without getting in trouble.

It didn’t make any sense. Brandon’s friends were here, his parents were here, so where the heck was he? Her pace slowed from a frantic rush until her feet stopped her right in front of the Ferris wheel. How close she was and yet so very far.

A rush of wind pushed her hair away from her face as the wheel spun, bringing with it the sound of a familiar voice.

Three baskets up were Brandon’s signature Air Jordans, butthose were not the feet of another boy sitting next to him. Mandy’s heart started to race. She wanted so badly for it to be his sister, but she was only six, and this girl’s legs were way too long. Mandy shifted through the crowd as the wheel came to a stop, her hands starting to shake. And there through the steel bars and flashing lights was Brandon—with Alison Dainton and a giant stuffed bear, forcing them to sit closer together, knees touching and holding hands. Alison was an eighth grader, on the swim team, and class president.

What was he doing withher?

Mandy already knew the answer long before her brain asked the question. She knew the moment she spotted those fluorescent-orange-painted toes in sandals.

Everything around Mandy blurred. The lights. The shrieks of joy. The hordes of people. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. It was supposed to be Mandy in that seat next to Brandon. Mandy’s hand he was holding. Mandy’s lips he was kissing.

Thiswaslike a movie. A horrible, terrible, awful movie. Before anyone could notice her, and before anyone could notice her noticing what Brandon and Alison were doing, Mandy sprinted away.

By the time the mooncame out and stars filled an inky sky that night, Mandy’s sadness had morphed into something else. Perhaps it was because of the way Isa responded to the news.

“That’s messed up,” she had said. “Brandon’s a total pendejo.”

Of course, Isa was right. Mandy was too good for Brandon—Isa’s words—and now as Isa and Mandy walked down a suburbanstreet full of single-family homes, wearing all black and carrying a bag full of rolls of toilet paper, Brandon was about to find out just how wrong he was to cheat on her.

Mandy checked behind them.

“Stop doing that.” Isa swatted Mandy’s arm.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“He didn’t even break up with you first.”

Mandy shrugged. “I know, but—”

“But nothing.” Isa’s voice held more conviction than Mandy’s whole body. It had been her idea to raid Mandy’s pantry of their mega-sized stash of toilet paper and, under the cover of night, leave Brandon a little message in sidewalk chalk on his driveway. “No one treats you that way. No one.”

The crickets seemed to agree with Isa, getting louder the closer they got to Brandon’s house. Like their own personal cheering squad. But Mandy’s stomach clenched, and the fried Oreos she protested eating earlier threatened to make an appearance.

Sneaking out of Mandy’s house would’ve been impossible, since every time a door or window opened, their alarm system would beep. And sneaking out of Isa’s wasn’t any easier. There were rosebushes outside her window, so they had to use the front door, and Abuela liked to fall asleep on the couch most nights. But the noise of the TV helped them escape, even though there was still the task of sneaking back inside ahead of them. They would both be in extra-big trouble if they were found out, but Isa had assured Mandy it would be worth it. Isa had never been so fired up before. Usually, she was the cautious one.

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