“He’s here, isn’t he?” Kirsten asked. “Because you’re staring at your phone with a look of what is either wide-eyed horror or wide-eyed excitement.”
Teddy’s head jerked up. “This is a date, right?”
Eleanor stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a collared dress covered in suns, moons, and stars. “Uh, yeah. He asked you out. This is a date.”
“What is this costume?” Kirsten asked. “You said you’d be going as something we’d recognize.”
Eleanor spun around. “I’m Ms. Frizzle, obviously. Of The Magic School Bus fame?”
“Ohhhh,” Teddy and Kirsten said appreciatively.
Eleanor sighed. “You guys aren’t the only ones who didn’t recognize the costume—none of my students did when I wore it to our class Halloween party, on account of they’re five and they don’t watch television from my youth.”
Teddy smiled. She knew Gretel would probably get the reference. And then thinking of Gretel reminded her that Everett was waiting outside, and suddenly, she felt hot. She fanned her face with her phone. “I haven’t been on a date since . . . well, since Richard and I started dating. And that barely counted, because I kind of started going over to his place and then we were together. But I don’t know how to do this! I’ve never dated! I—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Kirsten stood up and crossed the room, then put her hands on Teddy’s shoulders. “Do what I did on my first date with the Viking. Tell him he has frosting on his mouth and ask if you can lick it off.”
“But why would he have frosting on his mouth?” Teddy asked, panicked. “Are we going to a bakery?”
“Absolutely do not say that!” Eleanor shouted, shaking with laughter. “Kirsten is kidding!”
“I mean, that’s literally what happened, but sure, I’m kidding. It’s a joke! Don’t do that!” Kirsten shook her finger at Teddy.
“Be yourself, Teddy,” Eleanor said soothingly, putting an arm around her. “Be your normal, charming self. We love you. Everyone loves you. He will, too.”
“Okay,” Teddy whispered. “But what if he . . . doesn’t?”
“He will,” Eleanor said firmly as Kirsten nodded.
Teddy sighed and rested her head on Eleanor’s shoulder. “You’re very comforting as Ms. Frizzle, you know. How can I be a full-fledged grown-up and just figuring out something that most people learn at sixteen?”
“What did we tell you?” Eleanor said gently. “There’s no time limit on dreams. Don’t make Kirsten repeat that Colonel Sanders anecdote again.”
“Maybe I should stay here and hand out candy with you guys,” Teddy said quickly. “That sounds like a fun tradition I’d love to be part of.”
“Nope.” Eleanor steered Teddy toward the door, grabbing her purse and handing it to her. “You’re going out with your puppeteer crush and you’re gonna have a great time.”
She opened the door and all but pushed Teddy out.
“Don’t forget the frosting trick!” Kirsten called as Eleanor shut the door.
Teddy stood on the porch, blinking in the early-evening fall sunlight like a confused baby animal who’d just been born. She wasn’t sure she could do this. Go on a date? Who thought that was a good idea?
“Hey.”
She turned to her right to see Everett leaning against the wall, smiling that Everett St. James smile at her. And now she knew: it didn’t just look that way on TV. In person, it made her feel lit up from the inside, like a glowing jack-o’-lantern (but with better teeth).
“Hey,” she said softly.
“What was that about frosting?” he asked.
“Oh, you heard that?” Teddy exhaled. “That’s my roommate. It was encouraging in context, but don’t worry about it.”
“Okay! So,” he said, pushing himself off the wall, “you ready to ride a bike?”
“I was born ready,” Teddy said.
* * *
—
TEDDY DIRECTED EVERETT to the parking lot of a nearby high school. It turned out her cardigan, while cute, was no match for the autumn chill, so Everett loaned her his jacket, and Teddy was so distracted by how it smelled—spicy and sweet and perfectly warm—that she could barely focus. As they parked, children in costumes flooded the streets, their chatter and shrieks floating through the air as they ran down the sidewalk dressed as lions and superheroes and unicorns. Dead leaves scuttled across the parking lot, and Teddy happily realized that she couldn’t have picked a more perfect fall evening for a date with Everett if she’d tried.
“Okay,” Everett said, pulling the bike out of the back of his car like it weighed no more than a child’s tricycle. “What do you think?”
Teddy was a few steps away from Everett, so she slowly closed the gap between them. She ran her hand over the bike, appreciating it as if it were a sports car. “This is good,” she said.
Everett smiled. Across the street, children yelled, “Trick or treat!” at someone’s front door.
“I only hope the elementary school children don’t laugh at me,” Teddy said.
“Just tell them you’re dressed as ‘a woman who doesn’t know how to ride a bike.’ Oh, that reminds me!” Everett turned around, grabbed something out of the backseat, then held up a helmet. “Safety first.”
Teddy looked at it skeptically. “Am I really going to be fast enough to require a helmet?”
Everett gave her a faux-disapproving look. “Teddy. Who do you think you’re talking to? Reminding children of safety rules is, literally, part of my job. We did an entire episode about helmets, and at no point did I say, ‘If you’re a cute girl who plans on riding very slowly in a high school parking lot, no helmets are needed.’ And besides, you’re setting an example for the children. They’re always watching.”
Teddy was so caught up on how it felt to hear him say her name that she barely even noticed he’d called her cute. He could’ve said anything at that point and she would’ve swooned. Teddy, you have spinach in your teeth.
She quickly ran her tongue over her teeth. Okay, maybe not that.
She realized Everett was still holding out the helmet and looking at her, so she grabbed it and put it on. “Helmet. Got it. I care about safety, Mr. St. James.”
Everett groaned. “Please don’t call me that. The kids don’t call me that. Mr. St. James is my father.”