Free Everyone's a Critic by Rachel Wise Page A

glanced at each other.
    â€œOh, we’re just working,” he said casually. “Sam and I are reviewing the play for the paper, so we need to hang out and compare notes.”
    My heart dropped to my shoes. “Just working” is what he said. Suddenly I felt stupid in my fancy scarf and earrings and lip gloss. Is that all this meant to him? I guess even being asked to a pizzeria didn’t count as a date. We left the guys and went up to the counter. We each ordered a slice and a Sprite. I pulled out a ten-dollar bill Mom had given me in case we went out for something to eat after the play.
    â€œNo, no,” Michael said, “I got it,” and he handed the cashier his money before I could even say a word.
    â€œThanks! You didn’t have to do that,” I said, surprised and even more confused. Wasn’t I supposed to know if this was a date or not? I had answered that Dear Know-It-All letter so sure of myself. If he asks you to something or if you ask him to something, it’s a date.But what if you ask him to the first part and then he asks you to the second part? What if he tells his friends it’s just for the paper but then he offers to pay? Boy Causes Case of Permanent Date Confusion. Girl Never Recovers . We finally found a little table in the back and sat down. I took out my notes, and Michael did too.
    â€œThe show was pretty good, but kind of the same as opening night,” I said, happy to get my mind off date stuff and just think about the review. “I mean, a lot of work went into it. The sets and lighting were pretty elaborate. Some of the performers were great. Some were not so great.”
    â€œI agree. I don’t know about Julia Gowen. She has a nice voice, but she just never seemed comfortable up there, at least not tonight.”
    â€œHow about the matinee? Was she any better?” I asked.
    â€œNot really,” Michael said, and took a sip of soda.
    â€œYeah, she was kind of the same at opening night. I thought it might just be jitters. Guess not.” Itook a tiny bite of pizza, hoping I wouldn’t get any sauce on my face.
    â€œYour sister was great, though!” Michael said, suddenly excited. “She’s, like, really awesome.”
    For crying out loud. This was not what I wanted to hear on my sort of date/not date with Michael Lawrence—how fabulous my sister was. I hoped—no, I prayed with every bone in my body—that he didn’t have a crush on her. That would make me just want to move out of town. Tonight.
    After we finished our pizza, Michael suggested ice cream. This time I offered to pay and he accepted. More date confusion. We got cones, him a rocky road, me a caramel vanilla swirl, and sat outside on a bench, eating them. We were quiet for a moment. The night was really clear and still; no wind at all. It wasn’t too hot or cold outside, just perfect spring weather.
    â€œLook at the sky,” Michael said, tilting back his head.
    I tilted my head back. It was an inky blue, each star glowing like a rhinestone sprinkled into the atmosphere.
    â€œYou can see so many stars,” I said. “Magical.”
    â€œWe used to go to Montana on summer vacations to visit my uncle when he lived there,” Michael said. “And the sky looked like this, only bigger and brighter. It was amazing.”
    â€œI’ll bet. Wish I could have seen it.”
    â€œYeah,” Michael said, looking at me. “You should go if you ever have the chance.” He cleared his throat and seemed a bit nervous. His cheeks were rosy. He put his arm on the bench behind me and leaned back his head back again to look at the sky. I had already called my mom to tell her to pick me up and she would probably be here any second, but I didn’t want to leave this bench. Ever.
    â€œI had fun tonight,” I blurted out.
    He stopped looking at the sky and stared straight at me. “Me too, Paste.”
    â€œEnough with