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“Bossuet! Hey, Bossuet!”
I looked around and saw Joly across the street, near Musichetta’s house. “Hey, Joly!” I called back. “What’s up?”
“Musichetta and I are going to a movie,” said Joly. “Want to come?”
“Sure! Just let me put away my ABC Kit!”
“Great! We’ll wait here for you.”
“See you soon!” I said, and ran over to my house.
Let me explain. Joly and I are both members of the ABC Club, a baby-sitting business. We use ABC Kits – boxes filled with toys, activity books, regular books, flashcards, and sometimes other things – to teach our clients and also keep them entertained. I had just finished sitting for Navet, one of my favorite clients. He read a whole picture book out loud to me today, and I was so happy for him! But I was even happier about going to the movies with Joly and Musichetta.
I’ve known Joly since I was born, practically. We live on different streets, but his backyard and my backyard meet in the middle. When we were babies, our moms saw each other over the fence and started talking, and then one day the fence fell down and no one bothered to put it back up, so now it’s like we have one giant backyard. We’re always in and out of each other’s houses. Once, I came home from baby-sitting to find that Joly had turned my bed around – he said my blood would circulate better if I slept that way. Joly wants to be a doctor when he grows up, so he knows lots of interesting things like that. For instance, he told me not to worry about going bald (my dad started losing his hair when he was twenty-five), because male pattern baldness is inherited from the mother, but guess what? My mom’s dad started losing his hair when he was only twenty-one! I guess I’m doomed. Good thing I like hats!
But back to Joly! We’re best friends, and really close. Maybe so close that it’s a little weird. See, we hold hands a lot. Most boys stop holding each other’s hands when they’re still little kids, and Joly and I are thirteen. Maybe it’s because Joly thinks I’d get hit by a car if he wasn’t holding on to me. (He’s probably right.) But sometimes he takes my hand even when we’re not crossing the street, and sometimes I take his, and sometimes I just notice we’re holding hands and I don’t know who started it. We never talk about it, it just happens. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop, but Joly’s never stopped, and I’m not complaining. I like Joly a lot. I guess you could say I like him. Sometimes I think he likes me back, but I don’t know. He does have a girlfriend, after all.
That would be Musichetta, the prettiest girl in school. She wears really wild clothes, kind of like our friend Jehan, except that Musichetta pays attention to what looks good on her and what colors don’t clash. And, of course, she fills out the tops a lot better than Jehan does. (I probably shouldn’t say that about someone else’s girlfriend, but I can’t help noticing!) She’s also really smart and funny and nice, and she doesn’t mind me hanging around her and Joly. She even asked me to dance at the Fall Fling! (I stepped on her feet, but she said it didn’t hurt.) I think I might like her, too. Just my luck!
I dropped off my ABC Kit in my room, smoothed out my hair (still not bald!), and raced back out to Musichetta’s house. She was just coming out of the door. Her outfit today was all pink and black. She wore a hot pink leopard print t-shirt, big enough that it was almost a dress, with black leggings and a black belt. Her scrunchie, which held up half her hair in a ponytail on the top of her head, was the same pink as the shirt. She looked amazing, really sophisticated. Joly wasn’t wearing anything special, just khakis and a blue button-down shirt, but he looked amazing, too. He always does. I waved as I crossed the street, and, wouldn’t you know it, I tripped and fell on a crack when I reached the sidewalk.
I found myself face to face with Joly’s sneakers and Musichetta’s pink jelly shoes, and then with their concerned faces. “Are you okay?” asked Musichetta.
“Are you bleeding? Let’s get you inside,” said Joly.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I said, but Joly took my left hand and Musichetta took my right hand and they pulled me up. We stood like that, all holding hands, for a minute, until Musichetta giggled and let go.
Joly held on longer, brushing the dirt off my hands and checking them for scrapes. “You’re sure you’re all right? I’ve got some band-aids and disinfectant…”
“I’m really fine,” I assured him. “I’ve gotten good at falling without hurting myself.”
“You do get a lot of practice,” said Joly. He finally dropped my hands and took Musichetta’s instead. “Well, let’s go!”
The sidewalk was pretty narrow, so I let Joly and Musichetta walk in front of me. Musichetta looked at me over her shoulder and smiled. This close, I could see that her earrings were little black stars. “I’m glad you’re coming with us, Bossuet,” she said.
I smiled back. “Me too! I like spending time with you guys.”
“You’re so sweet!” Musichetta turned to Joly and whispered something in his ear.
Joly stopped walking so suddenly that I almost crashed into him. “You do?” he said.
“Don’t you?” asked Musichetta.
“Um…” Joly glanced at me and turned the color of Musichetta’s shirt. “Bossuet, could you walk ahead for a second? I need to talk to Musichetta in private.”
“Okay,” I said. I was very confused, but I walked ahead, and even stuck my fingers in my ears so Joly and Musichetta would know I wasn’t trying to listen. Before long, they caught up and grabbed my elbows. I took my fingers out of my ears, but Joly and Musichetta didn’t let go of me. Instead, they each took a hand again, and we walked all together. The sidewalk hadn’t gotten any wider, so it was a tight squeeze. I looked from Joly to Musichetta. They were both smiling, and looking a little nervous, I thought. “What’s going on?” I asked.
Joly cleared his throat. “Bossuet, we were wondering…”
“Can I say it?” interrupted Musichetta. Joly nodded, so she went on. “Bossuet, will you be our boyfriend?”
It was my turn to stop suddenly. I might have fallen again if Joly and Musichetta hadn’t been there to catch me. “Your what?” I asked.
“Our boyfriend,” said Joly, looking even more nervous now. “Because I like you and Musichetta likes you and you like us, don’t you? Please say you do!”
Now it was my turn to turn the color of Musichetta’s shirt. Maybe it was contagious. “You really both like me?” I asked. “Like me like me?”
“Uh-huh,” said Musichetta. She grinned and squeezed my hand. “So am I right? Do you like us?”
“I do,” I said. “And I would be very happy to be your boyfriend.” Joly and Musichetta squealed and threw their arms around me. I knew then that no matter how many times I fell down or how much hair I lost, no one could ask for better luck.