Chapter 2
Auggie
“YOU MISSED THE TURN,” I SAY AS WE PASS THE MOVIE THEATER. “TURN left at the light.”
“Whoops, I did?” Janko says. He keeps driving.
“Janko, get in the left lane.”
Janko proceeds to get in the right lane.
“Other left, man.”
“Just give me a second.” He drives down the road, passing a few more lights before taking a right at one of them.
We’re supposed to be going to see the new Fast & Furious for my newspaper review.
I’m not a fan of action movies, but I made a deal that in exchange for Heather covering the football game, I’ll do both a movie review and a story on the school’s tutoring program.
I wanted to go for this Sundance-approved movie about an old filmmaker, but the rest of the staff voted for Fast & Furious 15 or whatever, and I wasn’t going to argue. Janko had wanted to see it anyway.
Instead, we pull up in front of Hammonds and Janko slams on the brakes, putting the car in park.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands me two twenty-dollar bills. “So here’s the deal, Augs.” He points at the diner. “You are going on a blind date tonight.”
I laugh. “Excuse me, what?”
“Or a semi-blind date, I guess, because I’m about to give you a set of specific instructions.”
I reach for the steering wheel. “The movie starts in five minutes. We’re gonna be late.” Janko slaps my hand and I pull it away. “Ow! What the hell?”
“Leo’s cousin is inside.”
“Matey?” I ask.
“Yeah. And you’re going on a date with her.”
I shove the money back at him. “No, I’m not! The last time she saw me I was vomiting in a pool.”
“Forty bucks. It’ll pay for whatever you get, and you can keep the change,” Janko says.
“You can’t pay me to go on a date with a girl,” I say. “That’s screwed up.”
“I’m not paying you. I’m paying for both of you to have a good night.”
“I don’t want to go on a date with her.”
Which is only, like, half a lie. I’m actually scared to go on a date with her.
I barely want to socialize in general, let alone socialize with a potential romantic partner who is significantly more attractive than me, significantly more interesting than me, significantly more experienced than me, and significantly likely to reject me to my face.
I am much better with rejection letters. And I’m pretty terrible with those.
“Auggie.” Janko looks me in the eye. “She’s never been kissed.”
“No way,” I say. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes. And she’s never been kissed.”
“And?”
“Your goal is to be her blind first kiss.”
My jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead. Leo and her other friend and… and her grandma, I guess, suggested the idea.” Janko grabs my shoulder. “Man, weren’t you just complaining about being the human equivalent of white bread? This is a… a rye bread move. A pumpernickel move. A garlic toast—”
“Yes, I know types of bread,” I say.
“Point is, you get to go on a date with a smoke show, and she gets her first kiss out of the way.” He looks down at his lap. “And maybe you fall in love.”
“This is incredibly stupid. What if she doesn’t want to kiss me?”
“She does,” Janko says. “Or she will. Just don’t be weird. Be smooth, suave, kick-the-soccer-team’s-asses-at-beer-pong Auggie.”
“So you want me to vomit on her?”
“I want you to be my best friend, Auggie Peterson. The real Auggie Peterson. Because I think he’s pretty cool.”
“I don’t know who that is,” I say.
Janko sighs. “Okay. Maybe you need a therapist as well as a girlfriend.”
“That’s probably true,” I say.
“Whatever. We can deal with that later. Right now you need to get out of my car.” Janko cracks his knuckles. “You have five seconds or I will beat your ass.”
“What?” I say. “This is wild. This is—”
“Five,” Janko says.
“Janko, man—”
“Four.”
“Janko—”
“Three.”
“Jeez, okay.” I throw open the door, grab my notebook, and jump out. “She’s in there?”
“Text me when to pick you up,” he says, and drives away with the door still swinging shut.
I tuck my notebook in my armpit, then exhale on my hands and rub them together. It’s freezing. “This is so stupid,” I mutter as I open the door.
The diner is pretty slow, so I spot Leo’s cousin right away. Or at least I’m pretty sure it’s her. It’s hard to tell exactly because she’s standing in front of the bathroom door with a yellow hat pulled down over her eyes.
Here goes nothing.
I approach her. “Hey… um…” Mighty? Matey? Mighty? Matey? “Friend.” Ugh.
She turns toward me, hat still over her face. “Oh. Um, hi. Do I know you?”
Is it not her?
She pulls the hat up to reveal black smears all over her eyes. It’s her. “Sorry, I look like I got beat up or something. It’s makeup.”
“Oh, okay.” I stare at the black. “Are you… okay? Or—”
“I’m fine,” she snaps. “How do I know you?”
I swallow. “I’m… uh… Janko’s friend. We met at—”
She snaps her fingers, her eyes widening with recognition. “You’re the guy who puked in the pool. The baseball guy’s friend.”
“Yep.” I hate everything. “Yep, that’s me.”
“Cool,” she says. “Well, nice to see you.”
I stand there, unsure of what to say. She looks ahead at the bathroom door and then back at me after almost a minute.
“What?” she asks.
I take a deep breath. “Janko and your cousin set us up on a blind date tonight.”
Her eyebrow raises. “I’m here to have dinner with Claire and my cousin. She’s right outside in the…” She looks outside at the mostly empty lot.
“And also your blond friend and also your grandma or something.”
Something passes behind her eyes, some sort of dawning recognition, and I swear her face goes a little pale. “Why?” she asks. “Why would they do this?”
I laugh nervously. My palms are dripping. I’m pretty sure my armpits are dripping. Maybe I’m just melting. Please let me be melting.
“I’m supposed to give you your first kiss?”
“Huh,” she says. Then, “Huh” again. Then, “What the actual fuck?” She pulls her phone out and her fingers begin to fly. The bathroom door opens and a woman exits. Matey/Mighty continues to text.
“Um… the… uh… bathroom is free,” I say.
She walks into the bathroom without a word and shuts the door.
I pull out my own phone.
ME: What the heck, man. She didn’t know.
“I’m supposed to do what?” I can hear Mighty/Matey yelling in the bathroom. “You guys are unbelievable. This is unbelievable.”
Janko reads my message. Starts to type then stops. Then starts to type then stops. Then starts to type. Then stops for a very long time.
JANKO: Whoops.
Whoops?
The bathroom door opens and Mighty/Matey stands with a clean face, yellow hat in one hand and phone in the other.
She has flyaway-decorated hair and no more makeup, but I still feel like my brain is short-circuiting when I look at her.
It wasn’t just the alcohol. She really is unbelievably pretty.
I, Auggie Peterson, King of the Nobodies, am on a date with an unbelievably pretty girl.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to act. What am I supposed to say?
“Yeah, so, I’m supposed to kiss you,” she says.
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, okay. That’s… that’s chill.”
“Chill?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I’m… I don’t know. This whole situation is really weird.”
“You’re telling me,” she says.
We’re silent.
“So…” I wring my hands. “Wanna get a booth?”
“I guess,” Mighty/Matey says.
We walk to a booth in silence and sit across from each other. She clasps her hands together on top of the table and stares out the window. I try to stop staring at her and end up making eye contact with a child across the aisle. The child taps his father and points at me and I look away.
“So, what’s your name again?” she asks.
“Hmm?” I say, looking back at her.
“Your name?”
“Oh, uh, Augustine. But I go by Auggie.”
“Auggie?”
“Like doggy but without the d.” I immediately put my hand over my mouth. I have never once in my life tried to explain how to pronounce my name. Doggy without the d?
She smiles. “Doggy without the d. That’s funny.”
She thought it was funny. She didn’t think it was stupid. She thinks I’m funny.
There’s no way I have a chance here.
Is there?
I try to laugh and it comes out like a literal “ha ha ha.” Then we’re both silent again, looking at each other, waiting for the other to speak. “And you’re Mighty, right?” I ask.
“What?”
“Not Mighty?” I ask. Frick. “Matey?”
“Like a pirate?”
“Yes?” I say. Her eyebrow cocks. “No?”
“You think my name is Matey?”
“That’s what you told me. At the party. That’s what you said your name was.”
“No, I didn’t,” she says. “That’s not my name. Why would I say that’s my name if it’s not my name?”
“I… I don’t know,” I say. “I’m sorry. I asked if that was your name and you said yes.”
“Oh,” she says. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Oh. Okay.” Silence. A minute passes and I finally open my mouth and talk like she’s asleep and I’m trying not to wake her. “So, what is your name?”
“Mayte,” she says. “Like ‘my teh.’”
“Mayte,” I say.
“Yep.”
Silence.
“Why do you have a journal?” she asks, nodding at my notebook on the table.
“I’m a writer,” I say.
“Are you planning to, like, write while we’re here?”
“No. I always have it, just in case.”
She nods.
Silence.
The waitress comes up to our table and I’m more grateful than she knows. “Hey, kids. What can I get you?”
Mayte and I look at each other, waiting for the other to speak first again. “Go ahead,” I say.
“Can I have a chocolate brownie shake and French fries?” she asks.
I order chicken fingers and a vanilla shake. The waitress leaves us alone and I want to beg her to come back. Silence. Again.
“So, you’ve never kissed anyone?” I ask.
Mayte lets out a long sigh. “No, I haven’t.”
“Cool,” I say.
“You either?” she asks.
I try not to meet her eyes. “Um, no, actually. I have.”
Which is technically true.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
“I was surprised you hadn’t kissed anyone before,” I say before I’m able to shut myself up.
“You were?”
“Yeah.”