About how back in the fall, she couldn’t stop thinking about Nala Young. They’d done an English project together on Emily Dickinson, and it was all fine and they’d gotten an A, but afterward, Ramona kept daydreaming about Nala’s curly black hair and the little freckle above her top lip, the way her jeans fit on a certain day or the curve of her shoulder in a tank top.
It was exciting and confusing, because maybe Ramona wished her own thighs looked like that in a pair of jeans or that her hair had a little more curl to it…but the butterflies in her belly every timeNala said hey or sat down between Ramona and April in the cafeteria said otherwise.
They said Ramona had a crush.
She knew the signs, had felt them for Wesley Branson in seventh grade, and Ashton Lee in sixth. Nala was the first girl though, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with all those feelings.
So she did nothing
Didn’t even tell April.
Didn’t tell her mom.
She just waited, letting herself think through it, feel through it, see if it passed.
Nala moved away this past spring, back to her mom’s hometown in Georgia, and Ramona waited for the thoughts and wonderings to go away too.
But they didn’t. She stillthought. Stillwondered.
And now, here was Lolli, a girl with ice-green eyes and a hungry heart, just like Ramona’s, and those butterflies were suddenly in full flight again.
Ramona looked away from Lolli, out at the moon sprinkling silver over the lake. She tried to breathe through those silly butterflies, get them to go to sleep.
“You visiting here too?” Lolli asked.
Ramona opened her mouth to say the truth, but “yeah” came out instead. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe she just didn’t want to live in her real life tonight—she’d come here to cry, but found a kindred spirit instead, and she just wanted to be Cherry tonight.
Lolli nodded. “It’s nice in this town. Wish I lived here all the time.” She tucked her knees to her chest, rested her chin on top, looked out at the water too.
Ramona wanted to ask her why. Ask where she lived during the year, but she had a feeling Lolli didn’t want to answer those questions any more than Ramona did.
They sat there in silence for a bit. It wasn’t even awkward, their shoulders still touching, like they’d known each other for years and years.
“Do you ever wish you could be someone else?” Lolli asked.
“Like Lolli?” Ramona asked.
Lolli smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes. “Yeah. Like Lolli. Or…I don’t know. Molly. Polly.” She started to laugh then.
“Holly,” Ramona said.
“Dolly.”
“Hello, Dolly,” Ramona sang. The high school had just done the musical, and Ramona had designed a set of costumes for the show. Of course, no one knew about them—they were hidden away in her sketchbook.
“You sing pretty,” Lolli said.
Ramona laughed. “I don’t.”
“You do!” Lolli said, then got to her feet, crunched her lollipop, and then stuck the bare stick into her pocket before taking Ramona’s hands and pulling her up too. “Let’s be someone else tonight.”
“Aren’t we already?” Ramona asked. Lolli’s hands were warm in hers, but soft. Gentle.
Lolli nodded. “Anyone we want. Keep singing.”
“What?” Ramona said, laughing.
“You’re a singer tonight. A famous Broadway actor.”
