The Sugar Mountain Snow Ball (16 page)

“This is the life!” I yelled as my whole body wiggled.

Suddenly, Lance stopped the massager and sat up. Then he stared at me through his binoculars. I turned off my side and popped the lever. It practically threw me out of the couch.

“Wow, Lance! Your house is the best I've
ever
seen. And that includes all the houses in all the TV shows I've ever watched. No wonder you never leave it.”

He dropped the binoculars and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“May I ask you a question, Ruby LaRue?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Ask me anything!”

At that moment it occurred to me that I felt normal again. As if something deep inside of me had switched on, like this couch massager, and the hundreds of bulbs on the chandeliers upstairs.

“This is what I want to ask you,” said Lance. “Why were you sad?”

It was funny he asked me that, at the very same moment I'd started feeling normal again.

“What do you mean?”

“When you walked by yesterday, and again today, both times you appeared sad.”

I didn't know what to say. I was shocked he had noticed. Maybe I had been all wrong about Lance, too.

“It's a long story,” I told him.

He pushed his messy hair out of his face and sank back into the couch.

“Will you tell me the long story?”

I wasn't sure why he wanted to hear it, but I figured it would be safe to tell Lance everything. He didn't know anyone involved, so it wasn't like he would gossip. Plus, he seemed truly interested.

So I started at the beginning with our visit to Madame Magnifique for our free dream readings and then moved on to my obsession with the Outers and my enormous crush on JB and skiing and E & R Dream Designs and the Deluxe Pluckarama and the Snow Ball and then the accident and getting in trouble with Mim, and then Mr. B, all the way to finding out about JB's secret love notes that were to Eleanor . . . not to me.

After I finished, I realized I had jabbered on for so long that poor Lance hadn't been able to say a word. But even though he stared at the ceiling the whole time, I could tell he had been listening, because he hadn't moved an inch.

“So that's why I've been sad these last few days,” I said. “But you know what? Even though all those terrible things happened, my glass is half-full again! I feel much better, thanks to you.”

And that's when Lance said the best five words I'd ever heard.

“You can go with me.”

I felt my whole body freeze. I took a moment, then spoke in my calmest voice.

“What are you talking about, Lance? I can go
where
with you?”

“The Snow Ball,” he replied. “I can take you as my guest if you still want to attend. We can ride in the limo.”

Did he just say
the limo?

It's difficult to describe how I felt at that very moment. My heart started to race so fast I got a little light-headed, and the colors in the room turned blurry. I wanted to make sure I understood
exactly
what he meant, because lately, I didn't seem to be getting anything right.

“
Ohmygosh!
Are we talking about the same thing? The Snow Ball at Sugar Mountain?”

“Yes. My parents usually go every year as a business obligation.”

“
Every year?
But you just moved here a few months ago.”

“That has nothing to do with it. It's an investment. My parents own it.”

“Your parents own
what?
”

“Sugar Mountain.”

I'm pretty sure I screamed REALLY LOUDLY at that point, because Lance folded up his legs and blocked his ears. I soared off the couch and landed right in front of him on the fluffy white carpet.

“Are you telling the truth, Lance? Tell me you're telling the truth!”

“I always tell the truth, Ruby LaRue,” he said, frowning. “I don't lie.”

“WAIT! So, let me get this straight. Are you asking
me
if I want to go with
you
to the Snow Ball at Sugar Mountain?”

He gazed back over his shoulder, which I realized he did when he felt confused.

“Didn't I ask you that already?”

I couldn't help myself! I jumped up and down and up and down and hollered
YIPPPPPEEEEE
as loud as I could.

“Does that mean you want to go with me to the Snow Ball?” asked Lance.

I dropped backwards down onto the soft, luxurious rug, pretending to faint.

“What the heck do you think it means, Lance? Of course I do!”

“But didn't you say those girls, the
Outers
, were cruel to you after you accidentally crashed into them? Won't they be at the party?”

“Well, you and your family used to be Outers too before you moved here, right? And it turns out you're wicked nice, even though I thought you weren't at first. So I'm sure I'll like some of the other Outers there. Plus, it's just so glamorous and exciting—who wouldn't want to go to a real ball?!”

My mind drifted off to dreams of the Snow Ball. All my life I'd seen beautiful photos and articles about the annual event, and now I was actually going with one of the family members who owned the whole mountain! All thanks to Madame Magnifique and her psychic powers.

“Ruby LaRue?” asked Lance in a very small voice. “Are you mad at me now? You're quiet now, like you're mad.”

I lifted my head off the ground to look at him. He rubbed his hands together anxiously. His feet were tapping the ground.

“Mad? Nope, I'm the opposite. I'm wicked excited and happy! I'm just daydreaming about it all.”

He tilted his head so he could see me through his curly bangs.

“Oh,” he replied. “That must be what's causing the problem.”

This kid baffled me. Why was it so difficult to talk to him? I sat up and crossed my legs.

“What problem, Lance?”

“
My
problem,” he said, and he began rocking back and forth.

“Can you tell me what that problem is?” I asked in the nicest way possible, even though I felt like grabbing him so he would stop rocking.

“Basically, my problem is, I cannot understand people—what they're feeling or thinking. Unless I can see it
clearly
, like a smile.”

“How come?” I said. “Do you need new glasses?”

He finally stopped rocking and tapping and fiddling with his binoculars.

“My eyeglass prescription is sufficient. I have Asperger's, officially known as an autism spectrum disorder.”

I didn't know what it was, but it sounded serious.

“Is that a disease?”

“It's just the way I
am
. A condition. My governess said I can't read between the lines like everyone else.”

“Oh, you mean, like, you're a slow reader? Because I know how that feels. I'm the slowest in my class. It takes me practically a whole year to finish a book.”

Lance pressed his fists into his legs.

“No, not that kind of reading,” he said.

I could tell he felt frustrated again.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to say, specifically, or how I'm supposed to feel, exactly, when I'm around another person.”

I thought about that for a second.

“Do you mean you can't
read people?
”

“Right, I can't read people,” he said, and released a big sigh of relief. And then he added, “That's why I'm weird.”

I stood up and sat next to him. All at once, everything about Lance made sense.

“It doesn't make you weird. It makes you interesting!”

He shoved his hair away and glanced at me out of the corner of his blue eyes. Once again, I noticed Lance could be a pretty cute guy if he cleaned up a little.

“It makes me interesting?”

“Yep! And now I get why you're so quiet sometimes. There's nothing weird about being quiet sometimes. Plenty of people are quiet all the time. Even my best friend, Eleanor, is quiet most of the time.”

And that's when it hit me.

Maybe Eleanor was quiet because she felt “weird” too. And that maybe I made her feel that way when I pointed out and questioned all the different things about her family, even though I only did it because I'm a very curious person.

“Is that why you don't go to our school?” I asked Lance. “Why the governor lady teaches you?”

“Part of the reason.”

“What's the other part?”

“We're extremely wealthy and we travel a lot. I would have to change schools often.”

I glanced around the basement of this super-rich kid, taking in all the cool things to play with. There were giant Nerf toys, sports equipment, and practically anything a boy might beg for on his birthday. But I also noticed that everything looked new. Even the pool table had a clear plastic sheet pulled across the top.

“Did your parents buy all this stuff recently, for Christmas or something?”

“No, they bought it when we moved in. Why?”

“Well, it looks like no one's played with any of it.”

“That's correct. No one's played with any of it, except the videogame systems. I use those every day.”

Now I was confused.

“Then why is all this other stuff even here?”

He bit his lip, then stared down at his binoculars and began fiddling with them again.

“My parents bought it hoping I would make a friend.”

And that's when I understood how the richest kid in Paris could be unhappy.

“Lance. I'll come over anytime and hang out with you and play with all of this cool stuff, and I bet Eleanor will too, and I can bring my twin brothers who would love to—
oh no!
”

“Oh no, what?” said Lance.

“
Henry and Charlie!
I forgot about them!” I said, pulling on my jacket as fast as I could. “I have to go.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked as we ran up the stairs to the first floor and down the long fancy front hallway.

“Definitely. Maybe even tomorrow!” I said, and shoved on my boots next to the giant front door. “I'll call you, except I don't even know—”

And then I stopped and looked right at him.

“What's your last name, Lance?”

He replied, “Charmant.”

“Is that French?”

“Yes, it translates to ‘charming' in English.”

“Charming?” I giggled. “Like
Prince
Charming?”

He squinted at me. “Who's that?”

“Someone who only exists in my daydreams,” I said, stretching my mouth into the widest smile I could make. “By the way, my answer is yes. I want to go to the Sugar Mountain Snow Ball with you, Lance Charmant. Thank you for asking me.”

And for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, Lance smiled back at me.

“You're welcome, Ruby LaRue.”

24

“Okay, I'm here,” said Eleanor, sliding in across from me at our usual picnic table. “What's so
incredible
that you couldn't tell me at school?”

We were back at Dream Central with Henry and Charlie, just like old times.

Except it was nothing like old times. Everything was so much better than it was just yesterday. For one thing, Mim had canceled my two-week grounding, because she couldn't stand the thought of punishing me . . . but more importantly, she had stopped by Mr. B's gas station to apologize about not checking with him before we had started our company.

Mr. B said he understood that Mim was just trying to help, and that he thought I was an excellent friend to Eleanor. Well, that made Mim so proud that she couldn't stay angry any longer.

“I can't believe you're actually here!” I said. “Does your amma know?”

“She knows, and she's fine with it,” replied Eleanor, frowning a little. “In fact, she hasn't mentioned my missed activities at all.
And she's said nothing about E and R Dream Designs, even though Thaththa told me she knows about it. She's also acting very peculiar.”

“Peculiar? How?”

“I don't know exactly, but listen to this. Yesterday afternoon I discovered her exercising in front of the television. In sweatpants. With the window shades up! When I asked what she was doing, Amma said she had taken Zumba classes in New York and found them
energizing
. Can you believe it?”

“I think that's great,” I replied, as I searched the other side of the park beyond where the twins were playing. I was so excited about my incredible news that I was having a hard time concentrating.

“Ruby! If you're surreptitiously seeking a certain seventh grader in a green jacket, I can assure you he'll never be back here again. He knows I'm not—”

“Hey!” I interrupted her and stood up. “There he is!”

Eleanor slowly twisted around. “Oh no . . .
who?
”

“LANCE!” I yelled, waving, as he plodded toward us through the deep snow, his binoculars swaying back and forth.

“Eleanor, this is Lance! The boy who lives in the mansion at the corner of Maine Street and Bon Hiver Lane. We finally met yesterday!”

Lance jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and pulled his hat so low his hair practically covered his foggy glasses.

“Oh,” said Eleanor, clearly surprised. “Hi.”

Lance mumbled
Hi
back without looking at either of us, then slipped in next to me.

“You'll never believe what I found out about Lance,” I said, and grabbed Eleanor's arm. “It turns out his parents
own
Sugar Mountain. Isn't that incredible?”

“That
is
incredible,” Eleanor replied. “I didn't know it was possible to own a whole mountain. So is that your incredible news?”

“Yes, but it gets better,” I grinned, about to explode with excitement. “After we met yesterday, I told Lance about our psychic dream readings with Madame M, and how it all ended so badly. But then, just like that, he saved the day!”