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ForMom,whoalwaysbouncesback,andforQuinnPatrick,ourlittlegamechanger
1
Youwouldthink,basedonthefactthatI’veplayedvarsitybasketballforthreeyearsnow,thatIknowhowtoscoreabasket.
Youwouldbewrong.
“Zajac!”Coachscreams,wavingwildlyatme.She’sonlyusingmylastnamebecauseshecan’tremembermyfirstname.“Nomoreshots!Givetheballtosomeoneelse!”
It’salmostashumiliatingastheairballIlobbedupasecondago.Iplayshootingguard,soI’msupposedto,youknow,shoot,butthisisthethirdtimeI’vetakenashotthathasn’teventouchedtherim.Theballisusuallysocontrolledinmyhands,buttonightit’slikeI’mchuckingagiantpotatothroughawindtunnel.
TheopposingteamgrabsthereboundandmyearsburnasIrunbacktoplaydefenseontheothersideofthecourt.Ican’tbeartolookatmyteammates.Thisistechnicallyjustapreseasongame,butit’sagainstCandlehawkPrep,ourrivalhighschool,andrightnowwe’retrailingthembyeighteenpoints.Onourhomecourt.Ifwelosethisgame,wewon’thavethechancetoredeemourselvesuntilweplaythemintheChristmasClassic,whichmeansthesedickheadswillhavetheupperhandforthenexttwomonths.
Idigmysneakersintothecourtandtrytofocusonplayingdefense.We’replayingman-to-man,whichisusuallymystrongsuit,buttonightit’strippingmeupbecausetheopponentI’mguardinghappenstobemyex-teammate.
Shealsohappenstobemyex-girlfriend.
TallyGibsonwasthefirstandonlypersonIeverloved.Shetransferredtomyschoolatthebeginningofjunioryearwithalltheairsofthebigcityandadrivetoproveherselfonandoffthecourt.Thefirsttimewetalked,shetuggedonmyponytailandtoldmeIhadtheprettiestredhairshe’deverseen.Thefirsttimewekissed,itwaslikeaflashfirerippedthroughme.
Iwas,inaword,entranced.
Forherpart,Tallyonlylovedtwothings.Thefirstwasme.Thesecondwasbeingnoticed.Tallywantedtobesomebody,butshehadahardtimemakingthathappenatourschool,wherethegirls’basketballteamwasaboutassignificantastheknittingclub.Iknewshewantedmore,butinmymind,morewasalwayssomethingthatexistedinthedistantfuture,somethingwewouldeventuallytackletogether.Ithoughtwewereonthesamepageuntilthedayshetookmeouttodinnerandannouncedshewastransferringagain—andthatshewantedtobreakup.TheofficialletterwelcominghertoCandlehawkPreparatoryAcademywassowrinkledandwornthatIcouldtellshe’dbeencarryingitaroundforweeks.
ItrynottolookatTallynowassheboundsdownthecourtinhernewgoldjersey,butit’slikepretendingthesundoesn’texist.Shepullsherlipsintohermouthlikeshe’stryingtokeepaneutralexpression,butIcantellshe’sthrilledwithhowthisgameisgoing.Itvalidateseveryreasonshehadfortransferringtoaschoolwithabetterbasketballprogram,aschoolwhereshecouldfinallybenoticed.
Tallytakesherplacenearmeatthetopofthekey,keepingenoughdistancetostayopenforapassfromhernewpointguard.Butthen,almostlikeshecan’thelpit,sheglancesatme.
Youokay?shemouths.She’stryingtolookconcerned,butitfeelsmorecondescending.Ibreaktheeyecontactandturnaway.Idon’twantherpity.
Theotherteam’spointguardhasjustaboutcrossedthehalf-courtlinewhentherefblowshiswhistle.Mybestfriend,Danielle,hascalledforatime-out.Danielleisourpointguard,varsitycaptain,andbasicallyourmakeshiftcoachbecauseourofficialcoachisclueless.Shehustlesovertomeandspeaksinanundertonebeforeourforwardsandcentercanjoinus
“Dude.”Shegivesmehertrademarkintensestare.“Yougottafocus.Ignoreher.”
DanielleknowshowdevastatedIwasafterTallybrokeupwithme,andhowI’vejustbarelyrecovered.Betweenthatandhercompetitivedrive,Danielleisdeterminedtowinthisgameatallcosts,eventhoughwe’velosttoCandlehawkthelastthreeyearsinarow.Welosemostofourgames,butit’sneverstoppedDaniellefromdreamingofawinningseason.
“Iknow,Iknow,Ihearyou,”Imuttertoher.“Youdidn’thavetocalltime-out.”
Daniellehuffs.“It’snotallaboutyou.”Sheturnstoourforwardsandcenterastheyjoinus.“Listen,doy’allrecognizethisplaythey’reabouttorun?”
Therestofusstareather.Danielle’smindisalwaysworkingovertime,pickinguppatternsandrhythmstherestofusneversee.Everyonceinawhile,shecompletelyzonesoutwhenshe’sthinkingthroughsomething.OurfriendscalleditDanielleVision.
“Thepointguarddoesthathand-twirlsignalwhenshewantstheforwardstocross-swap,”shesaysinahushedtone.“They’regonnarunouttothewingstopulltheattentionawayfromthetopofthekey—”
I’mtryingtolisten,butmyeyeskeepsearchingforTally.She’sstandinginahuddlewithhernewteammates,doingthatthingwhereshepicksupherankleandbalancesononefoot.ThefirsttimeIteasedheraboutthathabit,duringtryoutslastyear,shegrinnedcrookedlyandsaid,Whyareyouwatchingmesoclosely?
IwishIcouldgetthatmomentback.Tally’sarctic-blueeyes,herdaringsmirk,hereagernesstogivethisplace—andme—achance.Shehadyettolearnthatplayingforalosinggirls’basketballteaminaquirkysuburbantownmadeyouanobody.Ihadyettolearnthatbeinganobodywassupposedtobotherme.
“—Gotit?”Daniellesaysbracingly,smackingmeonthearm.Andsuddenlywe’retakingourpositionsandtherefisblowinghiswhistle,butIhavenoideawhatI’msupposedtobedoing.
Ithappenstoofast:Theopposingpointguardmakesthesignal,theforwardscross-swaptothewings,andTallyrunstosetapickagainstDanielle.Sheplantsherfeetandcrossesherarmsoverherchest,becomingasolidscreenthatDaniellecan’tmovearound.Ichaseafterher,tryingtokeepup,butsherollseasilyoffDanielleandzipstothefree-throwlinetoreceiveherpointguard’spass.
BythetimeIcatchuptoher,Tallyhasalreadytakenhershot.Itsailscrisplyandcleanlythroughthebasketinaperfect,nothing-but-netarc.Thegoldsectionofthecrowd—whichisprettymuchallofit—roarswithdelight.OneoftheirsupporterswavesasignthatreadsTallyitup!!!Itmakesmewanttovomit.
Tallygrinsashernewteammatesrushtohigh-fiveher.They’renowupbyawhoppingtwentypointsandmyteamhasnochanceofcomingback.Daniellethrowsmeadeathglare,andIrealizeshemusthavewarnedmeaboutthepick.Ishrugdefensively;sheshakesherheadandhustlestothebaselinesowecanpasstheballinforanewplay.
It’sinthatonestupidsecond—betweenpickinguptheballandpassingitintoDanielle—thatIloseit.OneoftheCandlehawkplayerswho’shangingalloverTallycackles,“Thatgirldidn’tevenseeyoumove!Shecouldn’tkeepupwithyou!”
Thatgirl.LikeI’msomepatheticnonfactorwhomeansnothingtoTally.Sheobviouslydidn’tthinkIwasworthmentioningtohernewteammates.
“Hey,asshole!”IshouttotheCandlehawkplayer.Sheturnsaround,scandalized.Sodotherestofherteammates,includingabewilderedTally.“MynameisScottie!”
Ihurlthebasketballlikewe’replayingdodgeballandI’mdeterminedtotakeouttheirentireteam.Ifeeloneboilingsecondofsatisfaction,butthen—
Shrieeeeeeeeek.Therefblowshiswhistleandbarrelstowardme.
“Technicalfoul!”heshouts.“Unsportsmanlikeconduct!”
Thecrowdstartsbooingme.TheCandlehawkplayersthrowmescathing,superiorlooks,exceptforTally,whogrimaceslikeI’vebecomeunhinged.Mycoachfreezeswhereshestands,clearlyunsureofwhatatechnicalfoulis.
IcanfeelDaniellestaringaholeintothesideofmyface,butIrefusetomakeeyecontactwithanyoneasIhustletothebench.TheCandlehawksupportersarestilljeeringwhileourhandfulofhomesupportersaresilent.I’mseethingwithanger,butthere’sahotprickleofshamerunningdownmyspine,too.Itakemyseatonthebenchandkeepmyeyesfixedonthefloor.
Welosebytwenty-threepoints.Iknowit’snotallonmyshoulders,butIcan’thelpfeelingsmallerthanthetiniestantaswelineuptoshakehandswiththeotherteam.
Tallymeetsmyeyesaswefilethroughthehandshakeline.There’salookofsecondhandembarrassmentonherface,likeshewantstorecoilfromme.I’veseenthatlookonlyoncebefore:lastspring,whenwewenttoourfirstrealhousepartyandthecheerleadingcaptainhadmycartowedasaprank.Ichasedthetowtruckdownthestreet,fellandcutmykneeopen,anddissolvedintosobs.Tallyputherarmaroundme,butsheseemedmoreconcernedwithshushingmethancomfortingme,especiallyoncethecrowdofonlookersgrew.IrememberfeelinglikeIwasbothtoomuchandnotenough.
Afterthat,Isworeoffthecoolkidsandtheirparties,butTallytriedharderthanevertojointhem.Sheneverconfirmedit,butI’mprettysurethetowtruckincidentwasthefinalstrawthatmadeherapplytoCandlehawk.Thehumiliatingnudgesheneededtostartoverwithsomethingbetter.
“Scottie?”TallycallswhenI’mslouchingofftothelockerroom.
Ifreeze.“Yeah?”
Shedoesn’tquitemakeeyecontact.“Canyouwaitformeoutside?”
Ibreatheinsharply.Iknowit’snotagoodidea,butIcan’tpassupthischanceforamomentalonewithher.“Sure,okay.”
Shenodsandwalksaway.Icontinueontowardthelockerroombutstopinmytrackswhensomevarsitycheerleadersswoopinfromthelargergymnextdoor.Theymusthavejustfinishedcheeringfortheboys’game.Ifeelthatsweepingblushthecheerleadingsquadhasprovokedinmesincethetowingincidentlastyear,soIcrouchdownandpretendtotiemyshoeuntilthegroupofthemhaspassedme.
Outside,intheseniorparkinglot,Ihikemyselfupontheretainingwallwherepeopleliketosmokeweed.Tallywillnodoubtfindmehere,sincetheCandlehawkplayersinsistonparkinginourseniorlotanytimetheyplayusathome.Inadifferentworld,Tallywouldhaveparkedinthisloteveryday,rightnexttomyoldgreenJetta.NowsheparksontheothersideoftowninaseaofRangeRoversandEscalades.
It’sacoolOctoberevening.Themarqueeinfrontoftheschoolofficeislitupinshiningwhite,spellingoutareminderthatit’sHomecomingweek,exceptsomeonehasnickedthesecondoandreplacedittoreadHOMECUMING.Ourprincipalwillpitchafittomorrow,butitwon’tstoppeoplefrommessingwiththesign.It’sjustoneofthosethingskidsaroundheredo.
IliveinthetownofGrandmaEarl,Georgia.We’refamousforagiganticemporiumcalledGrandmaEarl’sChristmas365,whicholdMrs.Earlopened,like,ahundredyearsagotosellChristmasdecorationsyear-round.Itbecamesuchalandmarkthatthetownwaseventuallynamedforit.It’salittlewacky,butIlovethisplace.It’shome.
GrandmaEarlHighSchoolisthehomeoftheFightingReindeer,whichiswhyIhavetowearared-and-brownjerseyonthebasketballcourt.Thatcolorschemedoesn’tlookgoodonanyone,butespeciallynotafair-skinnedredheadlikeme.That’sonegoodthingaboutthelackoffansatourgames:fewerpeopletocatchmelookinglikeafirehydrant.NotthatI’veeverreallycared.Oratleast,Ididn’tusedto.
Candlehawkisthetown—ortownship,astheycallit—nexttoours,andthey’rekindoflikeGrandmaEarl’sdoucheyolderbrother:cool,cocky,andperpetuallyembarrassedtobeassociatedwithus.Weshareaborderattheoldrailroadtracks,butthingsaremuchdifferentoverthere:trendy,modern,fulloforganiccoffeeroastersanduppityfarmersmarkets.Theresidentsarelow-keywealthyandhigh-keyhipster.Theyshowuptoourrivalgameswearingnavybeaniesand$150distressedjeanswhileourhalfdozensupportersshowupingardeningshirtsandcargopants.Andathalftime,nomatterwhatthesport,theircrowdtauntsusaboutthetimeaGrandmaEarlfootballplayertackledhisownteammateinachampionshipgame.It’sthereasonCandlehawksings“Grandmagotrunoverbyherownreindeer”wheneverweplayeachother.
IhatethatTallyhasbecomeaCandlehawkkid,butmaybeIshouldhaveseenitcoming.Shewasalwaysobsessedwithhowthingslookedandwhowasdoingthelooking.Datingherfeltlikeviewingmylifethroughaphotofilter.SometimesIwassweptupbyhowgreatwelookedtogether;othertimes,Ifeltlikethephotounderneathwasn’tgoodenoughonitsown.
Theschool’sbackdoorheavesopen,joltingmefrommythoughts.Tallycomesglidingout,flankedbyseveralplayersfromhernewteam.Herfaceisbrightandherlaughterloud,butshedrawstoanabruptstopwhensheseesme.
“Hey,”Isayevenly.
“Hey.”Shejamsherhandsinherleatherjacketandshootsherentouragealoadedlook.“Givemeasec,guys.”
TheCandlehawkgirlstrudgeawaywiththeireyebrowsraised.Theydon’tbotherlookingmyway.
“Sorry,”Tallymutters,comingtowardmeontheretainingwall.Shenodsatherretreatingteammates.“Theyweretryingtotalkmeintogettingafogmachinefor,um”—sheglancesaway,shrugging—“foraHalloweenthingI’mhaving.”
Iblink,tryingtokeepmyexpressionsteady.AHalloweenthing.That’scodeforyetanotherparty,oneofmanyshe’sthrownsincestartingatCandlehawk.Thelackofaninvitationfeelslikeaphysicalblow,butIknowbetterthantohaveexpectedone.Itrynottoimaginewhatkindofcostumeshe’llwear,thepicturesshe’llpost.Howmanypeoplewillbeinherhouse,takingshotsinthekitchenwherewebakedcupcakesafewmonthsago.
“Tellpeopletowatchoutforthatfireplacecorner,”Imurmur.It’sanintimatememory:DuringmyfirstvisittoTally’shouse,whileherparentswereaway,I’dcutmyshinonthedarkredbrickprotrudingfromheroversizedfireplace.Happytoplaynurse,Tallyhadkissedthepainaway.Shehadn’ttoldmetoshushthattime.Probablybecausenoonehadbeenwatching.
Ithinkthere’saglimmerofrecognitioninTally’seyes,butshelooksawaybeforeIcanbesure.“Um—anyway.Somegame,right?I’veneverseenyouthatpissedoffbefore.Ithinkyouactuallyscaredsomeofmyteammates.”Shelaughs,butit’shollow.
Thatprickleofshamerunsdownmyspineagain.Ishiftonthewallandask,“Doesitmatter?Imean,dotheyknowwhoIamtoyou?”
Shechewsherlip.“Idon’tknow.Maybefromsocialmedia?”
Ibristle.Tallydeletedallherpicturesofmethedayafterwebrokeup.
“So,probablynot,”Isaypointedly.
Tallycrossesherarmsoverherchest.“Youdidn’thavetothrowtheballatthem.Iftheydoknowaboutyou,that’snottheimpressionIwantthemtoget.”
“Well,sorryIcan’tmaintainagoodenoughimageforyou,Tally.”
“Jesus,Scottie,”shemutters,likeI’mthemostimpossiblepersonintheworld.“You’rebeingsooverthetop.It’sjustagame.”
Ifeellikeshe’sdumpedabucketoficewateronmyhead.Itsoaksthroughmyskinandtwistsaroundmyinsides.
“Justagame?”Myvoiceisshaking.“Ifit’sjustagame,whydidyouhavetotransfertoCandlehawkforit?”
Tallysighs.Deadleavesskitteracrosstheconcrete.“Okay,look,Idon’twanttofight.Ishouldhaveknownitwasabadideatotalkwhenyou’reallriledupafteragame—”
“I’mnotriledup,”Isay,tryingtocontrolmyemotions.
Tallylevelsmewithastare.“Anyway.”Shereachesinherjacketpocketandpullsoutaplasticbuttonthesizeofadrinkcoaster.IknowwhatitisevenbeforeIseethepictureonthefront.
“Iwantedtogivethisbacktoyou,”shesays,layingitinmypalm.
It’smybasketballbuttonfromjunioryear.Aphotoofmeinmygaudyred-and-brownjersey,myeyesshiningbrightly.Theschoolgivesthemouttoathletessoourparentsorfriendscanwearthemtoourgames,evenifit’susuallyjustthefootballplayerswhousethem.Lastyear,TallyandIswappedbuttons.Ipinnedherstomybackpackforthewholeseason,readytotellanyonewhoaskedthatshewasmygirlfriend.Noonedid,butIwasproudanyway.
Tallyneverworemybutton,though.MaybeIshouldhavetakenthatasahint.
“Ithoughtyouwouldwantitback,”Tallysays.“Iknowyou’llgetanewonethisseason,butitdidn’tfeelrightformetoholdontoit.”
Iblinkrapidlyandtrytofindmyvoice—
Andjustthen,thebackdoorheavesopenagain.
TheGrandmaEarlcheerleadersstrutout.Tomyhorror,thegirlatthefrontofthepackisthelastpersonintheworldIwanttowitnessthispitifulmoment:IreneAbraham,thecheerleadingcaptain.Thegirlwhohadmycartowedatthatpartylastyear.
Ireneisthequintessentialqueenbee:themostpopulargirlinourgrade,atotallockforHomecomingQueen,andanabsoluteterrortousplebeiansatthebottomofthesocialpyramid.She’sagorgeousIndianAmericangirlwithpiercingdarkeyesandaneyebrowscarofmysteriousorigin.Afewweeksago,myclassvotedherboth“BestSmile”and“BestHair”forseniorsuperlatives.Rumorhasitthatwhentheyearbookstaffaskedhertopickone,sheaskedifshecouldhave“ClassInseparables”withhernotoriousenemy,CharlottePascal,instead.Shewasn’tkidding.
I’veonlyspokentohertwiceinmylife.ThefirsttimewasinDriver’sEd,freshmanyear,beforesheascendedtotherealmofpopularityandwasstillniceenoughtolendmeapencil.Thesecondwaslastspring,atthatparty,whenIaccidentallyspilledmycranberrymixerdownthefrontofherwhitejumpsuit.Shetoldmeitwasn’tabigdeal,butanhourlatershecalledthetowtruckonme.EveryoneranoutofthehousetowatchmycargetdraggedawaywhileIwentracingafteritlikeanidiot.Itwasn’tuntilItripped,skinnedmyknee,andsaweveryonelaughingthatIstartedtocry.Irenemerelystoodinthecenteroftheyard,handsinherpockets,withacoolexpressiononherface.Themerciless,untouchablequeen.
Irenestopsshortwhensheseesus.Thewholesquadstopsbehindher.OneoftheothergirlsasksifI’mokay.
“I’mfine.”Istarepointedlyaway,willingthemwitheverythingIhavetokeepwalking.
“Yeah,she’sfine,”Tallyconfirms.Hertoneisapologetic,almostlikeshe’ssayingSorryyouhavetoseethis.
IcanfeelIrene’seyeslandonmeagain,butIignoreher.Whatisshewaitingfor?Shemustgetthehint,becausesheshiftsherduffelbagonhershoulderandstalkstowardtheparkinglot.“Arey’allcoming?”shecallstoherfriends.“I’vegotshittodo.”
Theyglanceatme,butafterasecondtheyshuffleafterIrene.
“Iguessweshouldgo,too,”Tallysays.
We.Asifthat’sstillathing.Idon’tmove.It’stheonlyplayIhaveleft.
“I’msorrythatgamedidn’tgohowyouwanted,”Tallysays.“Goodluckwiththerestoftheseason.”
Shehesitates,thenplantsakissonmycheek.
Andthenshewalksaway.
That’sthemomentIdecide:IwilldoeverythinginmypowertobeatCandlehawk—tobeatTally—whenweplaythemagain.IwilldowhateverittakestoshowherthatleavingGrandmaEarl—leavingme—wasthebiggestmistakeofherlife.
MytrustyoldJettaismybaby.Theseatshavecracksintheleather,thecupholderfitsacoffeethermosperfectly,andtheinteriorsmellsinexplicablylikecrayons.Itusedtobemyoldersister’scar,andwhenshepasseditdowntome,shestuckafour-leafcloverstickeronthegearshifttowishmeluck.Mymom’scontributionwasaSaintChristophermedal,forthepatronsaintoftravelers,whichnowhangsfromtherearviewmirrorandswingshelplesslywheneverImakeahardturn.
Ithrowmybaginthepassengerseatandtuckmyselfintothedriver’sside.ForasecondIsitthereholdingmybasketballbutton,gazingdownatthispersonwhonolongerfeelslikeme.ThenIturnonthecar,pullonmyseatbelt,andhookupmyphonetotheancientauxcable.
Ibackoutofmyspaceandblaremymusic.Maybeplaying“PurpleRain”loudlyenoughwillsoothethebitternessinmystomach.Iguidemycarthroughthelabyrinthoftheseniorparkinglot,wantingnothingmorethantogethome.
ThenIseeTally’scarzoomoutofthelot.ThesameredFordEscapeweusedtomakeoutinafterschool.Ihaven’tseenitsincethedayshebrokeupwithme.Ican’thelpit:Icranemynecktowatchherdriveaway.
It’sbecausemyeyesaregluedtoTally’staillightsthatIdon’tnoticeit—
Thecarreversingoutofitsspacedirectlyinfrontofme.
CRUNCH
IlurchforwardinmyseatasIslamstraightintotheothercar’srearend.
2
Ittakesamomentformysensestocatchupwithme.MyheartispoundingsohardIfeellikeI’vejustdroppedoffthesideofacliff.Myentirebodyissweepinghot,andmypalmsarepoolingwithsweat.
ThecarI’vehitisablacksedan,butbeforeIcangetaproperlookatit,theotherdriverstompsoutofthecarwithalltheangerofarabidbulldog.
It’sIreneAbraham.
Fuck
Myshocktransformstofury.Go-freaking-figure.IknowIwasn’texactlylookingwhenIhither,butIalsoknowIhadtherightofway.Shemusthavedecidedtherulesdidn’tapplytoher.
MyadrenalinecarriesmeoutofmycarbeforeIcanthinkaboutit.Islammydoorandmeetherinthemiddle.“Whatthehell?”
Hereyesflashwhensheseesme.Underherbreath,shesays,“Youhavegottobefuckingkiddingme.”
Iignoreherandcheckmyfrontbumper.Miraculously,it’sonlyslightlydented;I’llhavetogetitfixed,butit’sstilldrivable.
Behindme,Ireneisexaminingherowncar.“Shit,”shegrumbles.“Myparentsaregonnakillme.”
“Yeah,well,soaremine,”Isay,kickingatmyfronttire.Icanfeeltearsbuildingbehindmyeyes,butIfightagainstthem.IhatetheideaofcryinginfrontofIreneAbrahameveragain.Itakeadeepbreathtosteadymyself,butwhenIturnaroundtocheckhercar,thebottomdropsoutofmystomach.
Herrearbumperisacraggy,mangleddisaster;therighthalfofithangsofftheframe,draggingagainstthepavement.There’snowayhercarisdrivablelikethis.Myangersuddenlyturnstopanic.Ifhercartooktheworstofthehit,doesthatmeanitwasmyfault,evenifIhadtherightofway?
Isteadymybreathingandlookather.“Damnit.I’msorry.”
HerdarkeyessizzlelikeI’vejustsaidsomethingoffensive.“Doyouknownothing?”shesnaps.“Youshouldneverapologizeafteracaraccident.It’sanadmissionoffault.”
I’msothrownoff,Icanonlystareather.
“Luckyforyou,I’mnotthetypeofpersontofakeaseriousinjuryorsomebullshitemotionaltraumasoIcansueyouandyourparentsforallyou’reworth,butsomeoneelsemightbe.Useyourhead.”
Angerflaresinsidemeagain.“Youreallywannabegivingmealessonrightnow?You’retheonewhobackedintome!”
“Whydidn’tyoustopwhenyousawmycar?”
“Whydidn’tyoustopwhenyousawmycar?”
We’vecreatedquiteasceneintheparkinglot.Abunchofpeoplefromourclassrunover,checkingtoseewhathappened.Eventhoughschool’sbeenoutforhours,thereareenoughkidsherethatouraccidentisimpossibletohide.
“Arey’allokay?”
“Ohhh,yourbumper’sfucked.”
“Aw,shit!TowTruckGirlfuckeduphercaragain!”
Oneofthecheerleadershurriesover,hereyespoppingoutofherhead.It’sIrene’sbestfriend,thesamegirlwhoaskedmeifIwasokayearlier:Honey-BelleHewett.She’sthegreat-granddaughterofthelegendaryMrs.Earl.HerfamilystillrunstheEmporium,andshe’sexactlyhowyou’dimagineagirlfromaChristmas-businessfamilytobe.Sugaryvoice,cartoonishexpressions,andalittleoutofitsometimes.LikeaCareBearmagickedtolife.
“Holyshit-balls,”sheexclaims,runningstraightforus.“Whathappened?Areyouokay?”
Irenedragsahanddownherface.“Ihavetocallmymom.Fuck.”
Shestalksawayonhercellphone,herbrowstillfurrowedwithanger.Honey-Bellegivesmeasympatheticlook,butIturnawayandpickupmyownphone.
MymomshowsupfifteenminutesafterIcallher.Shesmoothsthehairbackfrommyforeheadandreassuresmeinhersteady,measuredvoice.Thewholeworldcouldexplodeandmymomwouldsay,Hmm,nowhowarewegoingtohandlethis?
“Areyouhurtanywhere?”Momasks.
“No.”
“Wereyouonyourphone?”
“No.”
Momnods,searchingmewithherI-don’t-miss-a-trickeyes.“Okay.Let’scalltheinsurancecompany.”
Irene’smomarrivessoonafterthat.She’sanattractive,sophisticated-lookingwoman,withcurlydarkhairandpristinelipstick,dressedinlavenderscrubswithanametagthatreadsDR.ABRAHAMShehasthesamescrutinizingfacialexpressionasIrene,likeshecouldfigureyououtinasecond.Itlookslikethat’swhatshe’sdoingtoIrenerightnow.
“Howdidthishappen?”sheasks,cockingherheadatIrene.Hervoiceiscalmbutcommanding.
Irenehuffs,crossingherarmsoverherchest.“Iwasbackingout,andIdidn’tseehercoming—”
Hermomcutsheroff.“Youweren’tlooking?”
“Iwas,but—”
“Butyouwerelostinyourhead,imaginingmorecheerroutines?”
Irene’smouthsetsintoathinline.
“Thisiswhathappenswhenyoudon’tfocus,”hermomcontinues.“Youknowbetterthantobecareless.Makesuretotakepicturesofthisbumper.Everyangle!”
There’sanunbearablestretchoftimewhenourmomsareonthephonewiththeinsurancecompaniesandIreneandIhavenothingtodobutpointedlyignoreeachother.Whenallissaidanddone,ourmomsexchangeanodandannouncethatwe’rebothresponsible—sincebothourcarsweremoving—butthatIreneisprimarilyatfaultsinceIhadtherightofway.
“That’snotfair,”Irenesays,shakingherhead.“Shecamezoomingaroundthecorner—shewasn’tevenlooking—”
“HowdoyouknowIwasn’tlooking?”Isayheatedly.“Besides,you’reonetotalk!Thisisthesecondtimeyou’vemessedwithmycar!”
Mymomfrowns.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
There’sahangingsilence.Inevertoldmyparentsthetruthabouthowmycarwastowedlastyear;IliedandsaidI’daccidentallyparkedinfrontofafirehydrant.IwastooembarrassedtoadmitthatI’dbeenbulliedbytheheadcheerleader.
NowIreneandIstareateachotherforablisteringmoment.Hereyesarewideandanxious.It’sthefirsthintofvulnerabilityI’veseenfromher.
“She…accidentallyspilledcoffeeinmycaronce.”
I’mnotsurewhatpossessesmetosayit.Thiscouldhavebeenmychanceforsomemuchdeservedpayback,butI’dratherbeTowTruckGirlthanTattletaleGirl.
“You’vebeeninhercarbefore?”Irene’smomasks.“Youtwoarefriends?”
Westareateachotherforanotherextendedmoment.
“Mhm,”Irenesays,recovering.Shegesturesatmyuniform.“Icheerforherteamsometimes.”
It’sagoodthingnoone’slookingatme,becausemyeyerollwouldprovethat’salieinasecond.IhavenodoubtthatIrene,ascaptain,couldgethersquadtocheerforusinsteadoftheboys,butwhywouldacheerleadingcaptaineverbothertochallengethestatusquo?
“Isn’tthatnice,”mymomcoos.“Well,thatmakeseverythinglessawkward,doesn’tit?”
Irene’smomchuckles.“Yes,whatarelief!”
Whatfollowsissomeoftheworstmom-basedembarrassmentI’veeverexperienced.Ourmomsintroducethemselves,thenmakecornyjokesabouthowgladtheyarethatneitheroneofthemisanuptight,meddlingmotherwhowouldblowthisaccidentoutofproportion.
“ImaginehavingtodothiswithaCandlehawkwoman!”mymomsays.
“That’salevelofhellIdon’tneedtoday!”Irene’smomlaughs.
IreneandIsaynothing,waitingforthemtostop.
“Scottie,youlooklikeaseriousstudent,”Dr.Abrahamsayssuddenly.“Whatareyoustudying?”
“Mom,don’t—”Irenetries.
“Uh…myfavoritesubjectishistory,”Isay.
“Isthatwhatyouwanttostudyincollege?”
“Totally,”Ilie.I’veneverseriouslythoughtaboutit,butDr.Abrahamseemslikethekindofwomanwhorequiresaconfidentanswer.
“Andwhatsportdoyouplay?Isthatabasketballuniform?Basketball’sawonderfulsport.Yousee,Irene?Youcanbeaseriousstudentandacompetitiveathlete.”
“Iam,”Irenesays,withanairlikeshe’ssaidthisahundredtimesbefore.
“Cheerleadingisveryadmirable,too,”mymomchimesin.
Dr.Abrahamnodspolitely,butsheobviouslydisagrees.“Well,itseemseverythingisinorderhere,”shesaysauthoritatively.“We’rewaitingonthetowtruckcompany,butthenwe’llbeonourway.”
ImeetIrene’seyesatthewordstowtruck.Sheflickshereyesaway,butIcatchaflashofguiltinthem.
“Havingyourcartowedsucks,”Isaywithfakesympathy.“Happenedtomeonce.Ireallyfeelforyou.”
Icanalmostseethesteamcomingoutofherears.It’ssosatisfyingIcouldsing.Butthen—
“Whatapaintobewithoutacarinthistown,”mymomsays.“Howwillyougettoschool,Irene?”
“MyhusbandorIwilldropheroff,”Irene’smomsayswithawaveofherhand.“It’seasyforus.We’rerightoveronSleighByrne.”
“SleighByrne?”Mymomgetsafunnysmileonherface,andI’msuddenlydreadingwhatshe’sgoingtosaynext.“Weliveonthenextroadover,offBellsHaven.”Shelooksatme,andnowIknowwhat’sabouttohappen.
“ScottiecangiveIrenearide!”Momdeclares,hereyesbright.“Please,please,weinsist.It’stheleastwecoulddo.”
Itrytocatchmymom’seyetocommunicatewhataterribleideathisis,butthedamageisalreadydone.Irene’smomlightsuplikethisisthebestplanshe’severheard.ShesmilesbrightlyatIreneandliftsherhandsasiftosayHowaboutthat!
Ireneblinksandoffersmymomacourteous,gratefulsmile,butIcantellshedespisestheideaasmuchasIdo.
“Well,that’ssettled,”Momsays,lookinghappilyatme.“All’swellthatendswell,right?”
It’snotuntilwe’vewalkedawayfromtheAbrahamsthatIvoicemyhorror.“Mom,”Iwhine,“Ican’tstandthatgirl!I’drathergotoschoolnakedthandriveheranywhere!”
“Ithoughtyousaidyouwerefriends?”
“Uh…Imean,thatmighthavebeenaslightexaggeration,”Ifumble.“Butdoesitmatter?Theaccidentwasn’tevenmyfault!”
Momlooksunperturbed.“No,itwasn’tyourfault,butit’sstillyourresponsibility.Itwon’tkillyoutogiveherarideuntilhercar’sfixed.”
Intheend,Iwalkawayfrommyfirstcaraccidentwithawoundedego,adentedbumper,andtheloomingdreadofcarpoolingwiththeonlypersonwhocouldmakemysenioryearworsethanitalreadyis.
Mydadandyoungersisterareinthefrontyard,stringingupHalloweenlights,whenMomandIcaravanintothedriveway.
Iloveourhouse.We’velivedheresinceIwasfour.It’saquirkystreet,tuckedawayoffabusymainroad.Thehousesareasdifferentasthepeoplewholiveinthem.There’stheone-storyranchhousewheretheSanchezfamilyandtheirthreeLabradorslive.There’sMrs.Stone’sgreenbungalowwiththerockingchairporch,whereshe’salwaysinvitingpeopleinforacupofturmericteaandadiscussionofwhattheirdreamsmean.Attheendofthestreetismymom’sleastfavoritehouse,thefaux-modernmonstrositywhereMr.andMrs.Haliburton-Riverahostbougiepartieswe’reneverinvitedto.MomandDadcallthem“Candlehawkwannabes.”
Ourhouseisalilac-blueclassicwithshutterboardsandatinyfrontporch.Insteadofagarage,wehaveanoldcarportwhereweparkourcars.There’samapletreeinthefrontyardthatreachesashighasthesecondstoryandarowofbushesthatguardthefrontporch.That’swhereDadandDaphnearenow,arrangingtheorangelightssotheyhangoverthebushesthewayDaphnelikesthem.
“What’sthedamage?”DadaskswhenMomandIjointhemintheyard.
“It’smyfrontbumper.”Igrimace.“It’salldentedin,butIwasstillabletodriveithome—”
“Imeanyou,Scots,”Dadsays,bracinghishandsonmyshoulders.Helooksmeoverwithaworriedfrown,likehemightbeabletoassesswhetherornotI’mconcussed.Thisisoneofthebestthingsaboutmydad.Iknowhewillbeannoyedaboutthebumper,andthathe’llinsistoncomingwithmetotherepairshop,butrightnowhe’sonlyconcernedaboutme.
“I’mgladyou’reokay,”Daphnesays,huggingmegently.“Doyouneedanicepack?There’soneinthefreezerfromwhenIbruisedmytoe.”
Daphneisthesweetheartofthefamily.She’sonlythirteen,butmyparentsliketosayshe’sanoldsoul.
“I’mfine,Daph,thanks.”
“How’syourneck?”Dadasks.“Anywhiplash?”
“Maybealittlewhiplash,”Isay,andDadstartsfeelingalongthetopofmyspine.He’sachiropractor,sohe’salwaysquicktocheckmybackifItellhimIsleptfunnyorpulledamuscleinpractice.
“Flatonthegrass,”Dadsays,steppingback.
“What?We’regonnadotheadjustmentouthere?”
“DaphandIarestillworkingonthedecorations,”Dadsays,likeit’sobvious.“Comeon,youknowthedrill.”
MomandDaphnejuststandthere,amused,asIdroptothegrassandlieflatonmystomachwhileDadstartscrackingmyback.Iftheneighborsarewatching,Idoubtthey’resurprised.Myfamily’sbeenknowntodoweirdershitinthefrontyard—likethetimefive-year-oldDaphneinsistedweeatbreakfastoutherewithourwintercoatson.InthemiddleofJuly.
“Allright,thatshoulddoit,”Dadsays,givingmyneckafinalcrack.“Feelbetter?”
Icanonlygruntintothegrassinresponse.
WespendthenexthalfhourfinishingtheHalloweendecorations.It’sdarkoutside,andwe’relimitedbythelampsontheporch,butwe’remotivatedtofinishbecauseHalloweenisnextweek.It’straditiononmystreetforeveryonetogoalloutwithholidaydecorations,eventhestuck-upHaliburton-Riveras,whodecorateinastylemyparentscalltastefulPinterestcrap.Ourdecorations,ontheotherhand,arecheesyashell.Weplantplastictombstonesalloverthegrass,MomsetsupawitchandvampirecoupletolooklikeAmericanGothiconthefrontporch,andDaphnewrapscobwebsalloverthemailbox.Mycontributionistoarrangeagroupofskeletonsaroundsomehaybales.Lastyear,Dadmadethemlookliketheyweredoingthemacarena.Thisyear,Itakeafattwigandplaceitinoneskeleton’smouthtolooklikehe’ssmoking.Momrollshereyes,butsheletsitslide.
Inside,wesitdowntoadinnerofrotisseriechickenthatDadpickeduponhiswayhomefromtheclinic.MomandDaphnethrowtogetherasideofnoodlesandcroissantrolls,whilemytaskistosetasideaplateformyoldersister,Thora,who’sstillatwork
“ItextedThoraabouttheaccident,”Daphnesays,helpingherselftoadoubleportionofnoodles.“She’sworriedaboutyou,Scottie.Shewantedtocomehomerightaway,butshesaidtherestaurantisacluster-eff.”
“Don’tusethatword,”Momsays.
“Ididn’t,Isaid‘eff.’Thorausedtherealword.”
“Still.”
“Mom,mostpeopleinmygradeusethef-wordallthetime.”
“Doesn’tmeanyouhavetobeuncouth,too.”
“Yeah,waituntilyou’reoldertobeuncouth,”Dadsays.
Thoraworksasabartenderatthebestpubintown,TheChimney.She’ssavingmoneytorentherownapartment,butfornowshelivesinourbasementwithhertwocats,BooBooandPickles,whokeepgettingintoMom’svegetablepatchanddiggingupherarugula.ThecatsdriveMomcrazy.Dadiscooleraboutthem,buthe’salwaysmorelaxwhenitcomestoThorabecausehe’stechnicallyherstepdad.MomdivorcedThora’sbirthfatherwhenThorawasatoddler,butshedidn’tmarryDaduntilThorawasseven.
“Scottie,”Momsayswhenthere’salullintheconversation,“doyouwanttotalkaboutwhathappened?”
Ipickattheskinonmychicken,awareofeveryonewatchingme.Iknewoureveningofdecoratingfunwouldeventuallygivewaytothisconversation,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mreadyforit.
“Dowehaveto?”
Dadtiltshisheadatme.“Dowehavetotalkaboutwhyyouweresodistractedthatyoudidn’tnoticeacarbackingintoyou?Yes.”
Idropmyfork.“Ihadabadday,okay?”
“BecauseoftheCandlehawkgame?”Dadasks.
“BecauseofTally?”Momadds.
Ifeelluckytohaveparentsaslovingandengagedasmymomanddad.Theyknowaboutallthelittlethingshappeninginmylife,likewhenIhaveanexamI’mstressedaboutorafightwithDaniellethattripsmeup.ButsometimestheirinvolvementissoearnestandomnipresentthatIfeellikesomethingcan’thappentomewithoutthemwantingtopickitapartoverthedinnertable.
“We’resorrywecouldn’tbeatthedemogame,”Dadsays,rufflingmyhair.“Weknowit’sbeenatoughsemester.Ithasn’tbeeneasyforyouwithoutTally.”
“Losingyourfirstloveisexcruciating,”Momaddssympathetically.
I’mnotsuremyparentseverlikedTally.Theyweresuretosmileandhugherwhenevershecameover,butIalwaysgotthevibethattheyweredoingitformysakeratherthanbecausetheyactuallylikedher.
“Ipromiseit’sgoingtogetbetter,”Momcoos.“Butthatdoesn’tmeanyoucanlosesightofeverythingelsegoingoninyourlife.You’vegotyourwholesenioryearaheadofyou,withbasketballandcollegeapplicationsandyourwonderfulfriends—”
“Iknow,Iknow.”Tearsspringintomyeyes.Itrytoswallowthemdown,buttheydropontomychicken.“Ireallyamsorryaboutthecar,youguys.”
“Okay,”Momsaysquietly.“We’llletitgofortonight.Goupstairsandwatchamovie.Daphnewilltakecareofthedishes.”
Doingthedishesaloneisapain—weusuallysplitthecleanup—butthewonderfulthingaboutDaphneisthatshewouldneverargueinamillionyears.Shenodsandclearseveryone’splates,tossingmeasmallsmile,andItakethestairstomyroomwithoutlookingback.
I’mnotoriousfortakingthelongestshowersinthefamily,buttonightisreallysomethingelse.ForawhileIjuststandthereunderthewater,myachingmusclesgratefulfortheheat.Iwashmyhair,loofahwithDaphne’svanillasugarbodywash,andscrubmyfaceafteragoodlongcry.
NormallyIwouldblow-dryandstraightenmyhairsoitlooksgoodforschooltomorrow,buttonightIdon’thavetheenergy.Iwrapatowelaroundmywethair,changeintomyfavoritelong-sleeveteeandjoggers,clickonthestringlightsThoragotmelastChristmas,andcurlupinmybed.Forthefirsttimeallday,IfeellikeIcanbreathe.
Momwasrighttotellmetowatchamovie.Asidefromplayingbasketball,watchingmoviesismyfavoritethingtodo.TonightIqueueup10ThingsIHateAboutYou,thekingofteenrom-coms.Icanrecitepartsofitinmysleep.
Afewminutesintothemovie,Thorabargesin.She’sstillinherbartendingoutfit,andherkeysareinherhand,whichtellsmesheliterallyjustgothome.Shedropsontomybed,squeezesmetight,andfusseslikeI’mapoorkittenshe’scomeacrossintheroad.Daphnescurriesinbehindher,crawlinguponmyotherside.
“Whohurtyou?”Thoraasks,stillsqueezingme.“WhodoIhavetokill?”
“Nobody.”Ilaugh.“I’mfine.Howwaswork?”
“Theoppositeofstimulating,”Thorasays,pickingatthepinktipsofherhair.“Seriously,howareyoufeeling?”
“Itwasashittyday,”Iadmit.“WeplayedCandlehawkinademogame.Theyclobberedus.Thenmycargotclobbered.”
Thorawinces.“CandlehawkmeansTally,huh?”
“Yeah.Theirnewstarplayer.Shegavememybuttonback.”
Mysisterstradealoadedlook.
“What?”Iask,eventhoughIknowwhatthey’regoingtosay.
“Shesucks,”Thorasays,rollingontoherback.“Like,really,reallysucks.”
“Shedidn’talwayssuck.NotuntilshetransferredtoCandlehawk.”
“Ithinkshesuckedbeforethat,”Daphnesays.“Rememberwhenshegotmadatyouforpostingthatpicwhereherhairwasfrizzy?”
“Rememberwhenshedidn’tspeaktoyouforawholedaybecauseyourefusedtosneakintothatconcertwithher?”Thoraadds.
Here’sthething:IknowTallywastoughsometimes,butitmakesmeuncomfortabletohearitfromotherpeople.Itmakesmequestionmyjudgment,becauseforawhilethere,Iwassohappywithher.WasIjustoblivious?Or,worse,didIconvincemyselfshecaredaboutmewhenshereallydidn’t?
“Iknow,Iknow,”Isay,draggingmyhandsdownmyface.“Ipromiseshewasn’talwaysthatbad.”
There’sapausewheremysistersareclearlyholdingbacktheirwords,untilDaphnesays,“Well,Ithinkshe’saneff-head.”
Thorabustsoutlaughing,andIcan’thelpbutsmilealittle.
“Daph,you’reanationaltreasure,youknowthat?”Thorasays.Daphnebeams.
“Canwewatchthemovienow?”Iask.
“Sure,”mysisterssay,andtheysnuggleuponeithersideofme.
Maybeanhourintothemovie,myphoneringswithalocalnumberIdon’trecognize.Irejectthecall,assumingit’satelemarketer.
Amomentlater,itringsagain.
“Scottieee,”Thorawhines.
“Sorry!”Ifumbleforthephoneandansweritimpatiently.“Hello?”
“Scottie?”abrittlevoiceasks.“It’sIrene.”
Whatthefuck
Isitboltupright,scramblingtopausethemovie.Mysistersstareatme,butIwavemyhandsforthemtobequiet.Whythehellisthisgirlcallingme?Howdidsheevengetmynumber?
“Hey,”Isayintothephone,tryingtosoundcasual.Iswitchonthelampandswingmylegsoffthebed.“Ididn’texpectyoutocall—”
“Didn’tyou,though?”sheasksbrusquely.“Wehavetoplanfortomorrow.Youknow,sinceIhavetocarpoolwithyou.”
Ittakesmeamomenttospeak.“Right,”Isaytersely.“Obviously.Ijustfiguredwe’dtext.”
“Calling’smoreefficient.”
Iclearmythroat,tryingtostopmyselffromscreamingather.“How’syourcar?What’dthemechanicsay?”
Sheignoresthequestion.“Whattimeareyoupickingmeupinthemorning?Iusuallyleavebyseventwenty-five.”
I’mstilltryingtogetmyfootingintheconversation,andittakesmeasecondtorealizewhatshe’sasking.Seventwenty-five?Ourschoolisonlytenminutesaway,andclassdoesn’tstartuntil8:05.
“Iusuallyleaveatsevenforty,”Isaypointedly.
Shemakesanimpatientnoise.“Ihavethingstodointhemorning.IfIhadmyowncar,I’dleaveatsevenfifteen.”
“Iguessyoushouldhavethoughtaboutthatbeforeyourammedyourcarintomine,huh?”
There’sastiffsilence.“Areyoupickingmeupatseventwenty-five,ornot?”
Igritmyteeth.“I’llbethere.”
“Great.I’lltextyoumyaddress.”
“Great.Isn’ttextingsoefficient?”
Abeatpasses.“Cute,”shesaysinthemostacidicvoiceI’veeverheard.Thenshehangsup.Istareatmyphoneinoutrage.
“Whothehellwasthat?”Thoraasks.
“Mynemesis,”Isay,onlyhalfjoking.
“IthoughtTallywasyournemesis,”Daphnesays.Thoraelbowsherintheside.
“Scots,”Thorasays,grabbingtheremotefromme,“Idon’tknowwhatthissaysaboutme,butyourdramaisbecomingthemostentertainingpartofmylife.”
3
Thenextmorning,IpullintoIrene’sdrivewayafullfiveminuteslate.Idon’tdoitonpurpose;thetimejustgetsawayfromme.She’sstandingthereimpatiently,herlonghairperfectlystraightened,hermakeupimpeccablydone.Sheclutchesagiantsilverthermosandholdsherphonethewayallprettygirlsdo:flatonitsbacklikeshemightwhispergossipintothespeakeranysecond.
Iexpectasnarkyremarkaboutmytardiness,butshe’ssilentwhensheopensthedoor.Shetucksherbagsinthebackseatandsetsherthermosinmycupholderwithoutasking.Itfeelsinvasive,especiallyinsuchacontained,intimatespace.AspacethatIusuallyonlysharewiththepeopleclosesttome:mysistersorDanielleor,untilrecently,Tally.
Ireverseoutofherdrivewayandturnupmymusictodrownouttheawkwardness.Mynervesareonedge,waitingforhertosaysomething.Inoticewhensheclearsherthroat.Isniffagainstthesharp,woodyscentofherperfume.
Whenweturnontothemainroad,Idecidetobreakthesilence.
“SorryIwaslate.”Ileanbackinmyseat,pretendingtofeelatease.“Hopeitdidn’tinconvenienceyou.”
Sherakesahandthroughherhair.“Youweren’t,”shesaysflatly.“Iusuallyleaveatseventhirty.Itoldyouseventwenty-fivebecauseIknewyou’dbelate.”
Forasecond,allIcandoisstareather.“Wait,what?”
“YounevergottoAPUSHlastyearuntilasecondbeforethebellrang.”Sheglancesatme.“It’snotaninsult,justanobservation.”
Mybloodsimmers.It’struethatIalwaysranlatetoAPUSHistory,butthat’sbecauseTally’slockerhadbeenrightnexttotheclassroomandIwouldloitertherewithheruntilthelastpossiblesecond.It’sareminderIdon’tneedsoearlyinthemorning.
“Sowhat?”Isnap.“You’vetakenituponyourselftokeepalogofpeople’sarrivaltimes?”
Shelaughsbreezily.“You’resoeasytoirritate.”
IimaginehowImusthavelookedtoher,dashingintoclasslateeveryday.DidsheseemehangingalloverTallylastyear?CouldshesensethecracksinthatrelationshipbeforeIcould?IsthatwhyshethoughtIwassuchaloser?Afeelingofshamespreadsthroughmytorso.
“I’mbetteratgettingtoAPEuroontime,”Isaypointedly.“ButIguessyouwouldn’tknowthat,sinceyoudidn’tmakeitintotheclass.”
It’sareallysnottythingtosay,butIwanttogetunderherskinandIdon’thavemanycardstoplay.Itseemstowork,becausesheputsdownherphoneandglaresatme.
“Ididmakeitintotheclass.Ijustdidn’twanttotakeit.”
“What?Why?”
“Ohcomeon.APEuropeanHistory?AclasswhereyouliterallystudyhowwhitepeoplefuckeduptheworldwiththeCrusadesandcolonizationandsmallpox?Yetthere’snoroominthebudgettoofferAsianorAfricanHistory?Yeah,no.Ifthat’sthepinnacleofacademicstudyourschoolhastooffer,I’llfuckingpass.SaywhatyouwantaboutMs.Bowles’s‘regulartrack’modernhistoryclass,butshemakesapointofdismantlingthewholeEuropeanhegemonything,andthat’samuchbetteruseofmytime.”
Ican’tthinkofanythingtosaytothat,notleastbecauseI’mtryingtofigureoutwhathegemonymeans.
Irenetakesapointedsipfromherthermosandshakesherhead.“Butplease,tellmemoreabouthowyou’resomuchsmarterthanme.NotlikeIhaven’thearditbefore.Peoplelovetoassumethey’rebetterthanyouwhenyou’re‘justacheerleader,’asifI’mnotcompletelyfuckingawareofthecomplicatedidentitythatcomeswithmysport.”
“IneversaidIwassmarterthanyou,”Isaytersely.
Shesnorts.“Right.Youonlyimpliedit.Butyou’retheonewhowasdumbenoughtogettakeninbyTallyGibson.”
Myheartrateskyrockets.“Whatdidyousay?”
Sheraiseshereyebrows.“WasInotclearenough?”
Ijerkthecarovertothesideoftheroad.Thecarbehindusblaresitshornasitpasses.IrenelooksatmelikeI’velostmymind.
“Let’sbeclearaboutafewthings.”I’msoangrythatmyvoiceistrembling.“One:Incaseyouhaven’tnoticed,drivingyoutoschoolisthelastthingIwanttobedoing,sotrytotonedownthebitchyfactor.Two:Imighthavecoveredforyourassyesterday,butIhaven’tforgottenyourshittytowtruckprank,andIhaven’tforgivenyouforit,either.Don’tgivemeyetanotherreasontohateyou.Andthree:Don’tyouevertalkshitaboutTallytome.Ever.”
Ireneisbreathinghard,herfacecrinkledinfury.Thescarinhereyebrowvisiblyshows.I’dliketothankthepersonwhoputitthere.
“Understood,”shesaysfinally,herchestheaving.“Butifyougettosetsomegroundrules,sodoI.Andthere’sonlyone:Don’tevermakeassumptionsaboutmeagain.”
“Fine,”Igrowl.
Ipullbackontotheroadandturnupmymusic.Wedon’tsayanotherwordfortherestofthedrive.
WhenIparkinmyusualspaceintheseniorlot,InoticewithreliefthatDanielle’scarisalreadyhere.Ican’twaittoescapeandfindher.
I’mscramblingoutofmyseatwhenithitsme:IreneAbrahamisabouttogetoutofmycar…inthemiddleoftheseniorparkinglot…wherewe’resurroundedbyclassmateswhoknowthetwoofusgotogetherlikeaprincessandagremlin.Peoplearedefinitelygoingtotalk.
Irenegetsoutofthecarfirst,snappingthedoorshut.Itakeadeepbreathandopenmyowndoor.
ThemomentIstandup,Icanfeelalleyesonus.
Thelooksarecomingfrompeopleallovertheparkinglot—thebandkids,thepotheads,thehipsterChristiankids.Irene’sgroupoffriendslooksupwiththeirperfecthaircutsandcockysmiles,mostofthemsnickering.TheymaketheirwaytowardusasIfishmybackpackandduffelbagoutofthebackseat.
“Yayyy,happycarpoolday!”Honey-Belletrills,clappingherhands.Sheisimpossiblychipper.HerDNAisprobablymadeofcupcakes.
“Sowhosefaultwasit?”GinoDiNovacalls.“Wasityou,Abraham?”
Ginoishardtoexplicitlyhatebecauseheneversaysanythingactuallyoffensive,butheneversaysanythingnice,either.Rightnowhe’sgothiscellphoneout,clearlytakingasnapofmycar,laughinglikeit’sthefunniestthinghe’severseen.Idon’tthinkI’veevenspokentohimbefore.
“Funnyyou’resointerested,Gino,”Irenesayscoolly,“consideringyouranoverBrinkley’smailboxlastmonth.”
ThatshutsGinoup.ThegroupcombustswithlaughterandHoney-BellepullsIreneintoherside.Ipushpastthemtowardtheschoolentrance,feelingtheireyesonmyback.Notoneofthemsaysawordtome.
“How’syourcar?”Danielleasksthemomentwemeetatourlockers.Inevertextedheraboutit,butshemusthaveheardthroughthegrapevine.Shelookssympathetic,whichmeansshe’sgottenovermypoorplayinglastnight.Igrimaceandacceptthecoffeeshehandsme,whilesheacceptsthebaggieofappleslicesIcutupforherthismorning.We’vetradedbreakfastlikethissincethefirstdayofsenioryear.
“Bumper’sallfuckedup.Butthat’snothingcomparedtomyego.”Itakeasipofthecoffeeandbrighten.“Whoa,seconddayinarowyou’vegottentheperfectcream-to-coffeeratio!”
“ToldyouIwould,”Daniellesayssmugly.Thenherexpressiondarkens.“Iheardwhotheotherdriverwas.Ihopeyousmashedtheshitoutofhercar.”
ThegreatthingaboutDanielleisthatshewouldneversayanythingannoyinglikeWhydidn’tyoutellme?It’sjustnothowwework.AfterTallydumpedme,Icouldn’tevenbringmyselftotellmyfriends.ItwasDaphnewhotextedDanielle,andwithinanhour,DanielleshowedupatmyhousewithagallonofRockyRoadicecream.Sheletmesobforhalfanhour,andthensheandmysistersqueuedupamoviemarathonofJohnTuckerMustDie,She’stheMan,andaslewofotherclassics.
Daniellehasbeenmybestfriendsincefifthgrade,whenourteacher’salphabeticalseatingsystemlandedusrightnexttoeachother:ZajacandZander,thefar-flungedgeoftheclassroster.Thatsameyear,Danielleranforclasspresidentundertheplatformoflatter-half-of-the-alphabetrights.PrettymucheveryonewhoselastnamestartedwithMorlatervotedforher,andaftershewon,weenjoyedasolidmonthofstandingatthefrontofthelinebeforeourteachergottiredofit.
“Welp,Idid.AndnowIhavetodrivehertillhercar’sfixed,”Isay,nickingoneofherappleslices.
Daniellestaresatme,horrified.“What?”
“Mymomsetitupwhenshefoundoutweliveneareachother.ShefeltbadthatIrenewouldn’thavearide.”
“Thatseemslikeacruelandunusualpunishment.”
“Cruel,unusual,andcompletelyon-brandfortheyearI’mhaving.”
Daniellepointedlyignoresthelastone.Ifeelatwingeofembarrassment,knowingIsoundpitiful.
“Weneedtogiveourmomsatalking-toaboutmeddling,”Daniellesays.“MymombargedinonmyshowerthismorningbecauseshecameupwithanotherideaIcouldwriteaboutfortheCommonAppessay.Andyouknowwhatitwas?HowI’magreatbigsistertoTeddy.Asifadmissionscounselorscareaboutthat.”
Danielleandherseven-year-oldbrother,Teddy,werebothadopted.Danielle’smomisBlack,likeDanielleandTeddy,andherdadiswhite.Herparentsmetinaballroomdancingclubincollege.Like,forreal.Sometimestheyspontaneouslytangowhenwe’rehangingoutattheirhouse.
“Whyisyourmomsoworriedaboutthisessay?”Iask,gratefulforthechangeofsubject.
“She’snot.”Daniellebusiesherselfwithchewingonherthumbnail.“I’mworriedaboutit,soshe’shovering.EverythingI’vereadsaysyoushouldavoidmissiontripsandpersonalheroesbecausethosearetheultimateclichés.It’sbettertoshareananecdotethatrevealsyourpersonality.But,like…whatamIsupposedtosay?”
Weslamourlockersandleanagainstthem,thinking.It’saniceescapefrommynewreality.
“You’reoneofthesmartestpeopleinourgrade,”Itellher.“Youknowsomuchaboutthisapplicationprocess,youcouldprobablyrunthewholeguidancedepartmentifyouwantedto.Justlikeyou’rerunningourbasketballteam.”Ifreeze,realizingtheanswer.“Wait!Youcantellthestoryofhowyou’vesteppeduptobeourcoach!”
NooneaskedDanielletotakeoverourteam.It’sjustthatCoachFernandezisn’treallyacoach—she’sthecomputerteacherwhorunstheroboticsclub.Afterouroldcoachretiredlastseason,theschoolcouldn’tfindanyonenewtocoachgirls’basketball,soFernandezagreedtosignonasOfficialAdultPerson;otherwise,wewouldn’thavehadaseason.Shepopsbypracticemaybeonceortwiceaweek,butotherwiseletsDanielledoherthing.
“Itwouldmakeagreatstory,”Icontinueenthusiastically.“Youcanpaintyourselfasourfearlessleader!”
Danielleflincheslikeamosquitolandedonher.“No.That’ssobraggy.”
“Dude,thepointofanadmissionsessayistobebraggy.Isn’tthatwhyyoudoallthethingsyoudo?”
“IdothembecauseI’malong-sufferingperfectionist.”Sheshootsmeafamiliarsmile:theonesheusestodeflectattentionoffherself.Itmakesmewanttohugherandshakeheratthesametime,becauseshe’ssowonderfulbutsodeterminedtodownplayit.It’slikeshehidesherselfunderalampshadesonoonewillseehowbrightlysheshines.Evenwhenshestagedacoupinfifthgradeforalphabetreversal—sothoseofuswhowerealwaysattheendofthelinefinallygottobeupfront—shemademeswitchplaceswithhersoshedidn’thavetostandfirstinline.
I’mtryingtothinkofanotherangleforheressaywhenwe’reinterruptedbyourtwoguyfriends,GuntherThomasandKevinTodds.They’rebestfriendsthesamewayDanielleandIare;theyevenhavelockersrightnexttoeachother.There’ssomethingaboutmyfriendsandthealphabet.
“Lookwho’sthetalkofthetown,”Gunthersays,slinginganarmaroundmyshoulders.
Iwince,allthoughtofDanielle’sproblemsforgotten.“Youguysheard,too?”
“Acoupleofthebandguysweretalkingaboutit,”Kevinsays.“Theydidn’tactuallyknowyourname,butweknewitwasyoubecausetheydescribedyouas‘gayGinnyWeasley.’”
“Charming,”Isaywithascowl.“GladtoknowIhavesuchapowerfulreputation.”
“BetterthanTowTruckGirl,”Gunthersays,andIpunchhisshoulder.
We’vebeenfriendswiththeboyssincefreshmanyear.Guntherisshortandstocky,withthickbrownhairandablondbirthmarkonthecrownofhishead.Heplaysourmascot,theFightingReindeer,whichmeanshespendsalotoftimeprancingaroundandchargingpeoplewithhisantlers.KevinisafewinchestallerthanGunther,witharoundfaceandacnescarsonhislightbrownskin.Hisbigthingismusic.He’sbeeninmarchingbandallfouryears,andhe’stryingtolineupauditionsforcollegeconservatoryprograms.
“What’snewwithyou,Danielle?”Kevinasks.“Iheardyouplayedwelllastnight.”
Danielleshrugsandtriestoshiftintoacasualpose,butsheendsupstumblingintoherlocker.She’sgottenincreasinglyweirdaroundKevinlately.Like,nursing-a-secret-crushweird.“Yeah,Iplayedallright.”Shewrinkleshernose.“Betterthanyouatminigolf,anyway.”
Kevinpressesahandtohisheart.“Damn.Lowblow.”
Justthen,Ireneandherentouragesweepintothehallway.It’soneofthosesubtlethingswhereeveryonearounduscontinuestogoabouttheirbusiness,butyouknowthey’reawareofthepopularkidsenteringtheirmidst.
“There’syourbuddy,”Kevinsayswithasigh.“RevvingupforHomecomingCourtthisweekend.Anotherdayinthelifeoftheprincess.”
“Andnowshe’sgotScottietodriveherpumpkincarriage,”Gunthersays,hiseyestwinkling.
Irenedoesn’tlookatmeasshewalksby,butIcansenseotherpeoplestaringatme,hopingforustointeract.Islammylockerclosedandtrytolosemyselfinconversationwithmyfriends,butit’slikeaninvisiblestringhastetheredmetoIreneandI’llspendthewholedaylinkedtohernomatterwhatIdo.
Predictably,mydayissmatteredwithinterruptionsfromgossipmongerswhowanttoknowabouttheaccident.I’mamazedathowmanypeoplesuddenlyknowmyname—notjusttheotherseniors,butthejuniorsandunderclassmen,too.SomeofthemaresincerewhentheyaskifI’mokay,butmostofthembringitupbecausetheywanttohearaboutIrene.
“Doyouguys,like,hangoutnow?”awide-eyedgirlasks.
“Wasshepissedatyouforruininghercar?”anotherwhispers.
“DoesitfeellikecarpoolingwithaKardashian?”astraight-facedfreshmanasks.
“No,”Ihearmyselfsayingoverandoveragain.“Iliterallycouldn’tcareless.”
Idon’tactuallyseeIreneuntiltheendoftheday,whenwehaveouronlyclasstogether:SeniorHorizons.It’sajokeofaclasswithanalbatrossofateacher.Mrs.Scuttlebaumisagrumpy,bitteroldwomanwhowearsthesametulip-patternedcardiganovereveryoutfit.Hersmoker’semphysemamakessittinginherlecturesthatmuchworse.
WhenDanielleandIwalkintotheclassroom,abunchoftheguys,ledbyGino,startlaughing.
“Hey,Abraham,yourUber’shere!”
“Canyoudrivemetothedancethisweekend,Zajac?”
“Fivestars,Zajac,fivestars!”
Icanfeelmyfaceburning,butIrollmyeyeswithabravadoIdon’tfeel.Irene,however,crossesherlegsandsays,“I’donlygiveherthreestars.”
Theclassroomhowlswithlaughter.Irenecatchesmyeyeandsmirks,almostlikewe’resharingthejoke.
There’sabeatwhereit’ssilent,andthenIsay,“I’dgiveherzero.”
Theclassroomeruptsinlaughteragain.Irenetiltsherheadatme.Shedoesn’tlookangry,butIcan’tquitereadherexpression.IignoreherandfishmynotebookoutofmybackpackuntilScuttlebaumwheezesateveryonetoshutup.
Themostsurprisingthinghappensattheendoftheday,whenI’monmywaytobasketballpractice.DanielleandIarewalkingdownthehallwaywhenmycellphonechimeswithasoundthatstopsmecold.
Thatchimeissettoonlyoneperson.
TallyGibson:WhyareyoudrivingIreneAbrahamaround?
Ican’tsortouthowI’mfeelingatfirst.Imean,I’mstunnedthatTally’sreachingoutatall,especiallyafterourtalklastnight.ButIalsofeelstrangelyvalidated.ThisisproofthatshestillcaresaboutwhatI’mdoing.ThatI’minherheadasmuchasshe’sinmine.
“Don’tengage,”Daniellewarns,butIignoreher.
Me:Howdoyouknowthat?
TallyGibson:SawitonGino’sInstagram.
Sureenough,whenIopentheapp,Gino’sStoryisthefirsttopopup.It’sapictureofIreneandmegettingoutofmycar,herlookingaloofandmelookinggrouchy.ThecaptionsaysHomecomingqueeninhernewchariot!!GayGinnyWeasleyforthewin!
Cool.Sogladeveryoneinmyuniverse,includingmyex-girlfriend,isseeingthis.
“Scottie,”DaniellesaysinawaythatmeansDon’ttextherback
“I’lljustgiveherthebareminimumsoshelaysoff.”
Me:It’sjustforafewdays.
Idon’twanttotellheraboutmyaccident,eventhoughshe’llprobablyfindoutanyway.
TallyGibson:Oh
TallyGibson:AmInotallowedtoknowthereasonanymore?
“Thatfreakingsociopath,”Daniellesays,glaringatmyphone.“Sheissomanipulative.Ignoreher.Youdon’toweheranexplanation.”
IcantellDanielleisgettingriledup,soIpocketmyphoneandcontinuedownthehall.Butwhenwegettothelockerroom,Itakeadvantageofthechaostopulloutmyphoneagain.
Me:Whydoyouwanttoknow?
TallyGibson:Becauseit’snotlikeyou.Whathappenedtohatinghergutsafterthetowingthing?
Me:Idon’tthinkmyopinionofherisanyofyourbusiness.Notanymore.
TallyGibson:Wow,okay.
Ithinkthat’stheendofit,butTallysendsonefinaltext:
TallyGibson:Youshouldbecareful.Shecan’tbegoodforyou.
Andthat’swhenithitsme:TallyisjealousofmyperceivedfriendshipwithIrene.She’sthreatenedbythepossibilitythatIcouldchange—scaredthatIcouldcatapulttopopularityevenfasterthanher.Theidealeavesmedazed.
Whenwespillontothecourt,Ihaveabounceinmystep.I’mplayingaswellasIusedto—maybeevenbetter.Myenergyiscontagious,andsuddenlythewholeteamisplayingatourhighestfrequency.
Idon’tthinkitcangetanybetter,butinthelasttenminutesofpractice,itdoes.Theauxiliarydoorsopenand,forthefirsttimeinmybasketballcareer,wehaveacheeringsection.Literally.Irenehasbroughthersquadtowatchusplay.
Iknowshe’snotdoingmeanyfavors.She’sonlyherebecauseherownpracticeisoverandshewantstohurrymealong.Still,itfeelsvalidatingtohaveanaudience,andmyteammatesseemtofeelthesameway.
“Aretheyreallyhereforus?”Shelbyasks.
LizGuggenheim,whowecallGoogy,shakesherhead.“Nah,dude.They’rehereforScottie.”Sheturnstome,starstruck.“Thatcaraccidentwasthebestthingyou’veeverdone.”
Thewholeteamlooksatme,theirmouthstwitchingwithglee.IfeellikeI’mflyingclosetothesun.
“Let’sruntheHotDogplay,”Daniellesays,smirking.Shepassesmetheball,andIhesitate,realizingthegiftshe’sgivingme.
“Yousure?”
“Makeitsail,Scots.”
Weruntheplaywithapalpablemomentum.Iziparoundthecourt,andwhenGoogyfeedsmetheball,Isenditswishingthroughthebasketwithaperfectjumpshot.
Thegirlsinthestandserupt.Honey-Belleactuallywhoops.Daniellelooksatmelikewe’vejustfoundmoneyontheground.
“CarpoolwithIreneforaslongasyoucan,”shewhispers,agleaminhereye.
Andforthefirsttime,Ithinkit’snotabadidea.
4
Thenextmorning,Ihustleoutthedoorwithmyshoeshalftied.Carpoolinghomelastnightwasuneventful—weliterallydidn’tspeak—butIdon’texpectthebeasttoslumberforlong.Iplantobeoutsideherhousewaybeforeourseventhirtydeparturetime,justtoproveapoint.
ButwhenIpullintoIrene’sdrivewayat7:23,she’salreadyoutside.Ofcourse.
“Howlongwereyouwaiting?”Iaskwhensheopensthedoor.
Shetakeshertimereplying,settingherbagsallovermyseat.“Afewminutes.”
Itfeelslikeshe’ssayingthatjusttopissmeoff,sothemomentshe’sseated,Ijerkthecarbackwardwithextraforce.Hercoffeethermosspillsoverthecupholder.
“Dude,”shesaysangrily.
“Whoops,sorry,”Isaybreezily.“Therearenapkinsintheglovecompartment.”
ShewipesupthespillmorecarefullythanIexpectedherto.“Canyouturnyourmusicdown?”shegrumbles.“It’stooearlyforthisshit.”
“ThisisFineYoungCannibals.”
“Iknowwhoitis.”
“Sureyoudo.”
“Oh,you’reright,you’retheonlypersonouragewho’sreallyintoeightiesmusic.Iforgothowexceptionallyuniqueyouare.”
Insteadofresponding,IturnupthemusicuntilI’mfull-onblastingit.Sheliterallyscoffsandturnsawayfromme.Wedon’tspeakagainfortherestoftheride.
Still,thatafternoon,beforetheendofpractice,thecheerleadersshowupagain.
ByThursday,thewholeschoolisswollenwithHomecomingenergy.OurprincipalannouncesthatfinalvotingfortheHomecomingCourtwilltakeplaceduringhomeroomonFriday,sofortherestoftheday,it’sallanyonecantalkabout.IhearIrene’snameevenmorethanIhaveinthepasttwodays,andsincewe’restillcarpooling,theattentiononmeintensifiesproportionally.
“HomecomingCourtiscompletelyunderutilized,”Gunthermusesatlunch.“We’renotgettingthemaxvalue.Ifthere’skingsandqueens,whynotaddtheschemingadvisororthegreedybishop?IcanthinkofsomanypeopleI’dnominate.”
We’relyingonthecoolgrassoutsidethecafeteria,usingourbackpacksasheadrests.Thetreesaboveusarestillflushwithleaves,butthey’restartingtoturnorangeandred.Mostoftheseniorsareclusteredingroupsaroundus.Afewofthemaremessingwiththemarqueeagain.ItnowreadsIMCOMINGHO
“What’stheequivalentofacourtmusician?”Kevinasks.“That’swhatI’dwanttobe.”
“Likeabard?”Daniellesays.“Oratroubadour?”
“Troubadour,”Kevinechoes,laughing.“Whatdoesthatevenmean?Howareyousofreakingsmartallthetime?”
Daniellebitesherlip,smilingcoyly.“Idothisthingcalledstudying.”
“SodoI,butyoudon’thearmetossingoutwordsliketroubadour.Iswearyourbrainretains,like,everythingyouread.”
We’reinterruptedbyCharlottePascal,thevarsitysoccercaptain,whoapproachesuswithacoupleofherteammates.Thesoccergirlsarenotoriouslyhot,alllonglegsandCaliforniahair.They’realsoourbestathleticteam,theonlyGrandmaEarlsportthatwinschampionshipsandlocalbusinessendorsements.It’swellunderstoodthatifyouwanttobesomebodyaroundhere,youhavetwooptions:cheerleadingorsoccer.Basketballisn’tevenablipontheradar.
WhichiswhyI’msoconfusedCharlotteisapproachingus.BeforeIcanmakesenseofit,shepushesahomemadeRiceKrispiesTreatintomyhand.
“Er—what—?”Itrytosay.
“HappyHomecoming,”shesays,hersmileimpossiblybright.“Ihopeyou’llconsidervotingformeforQueen.”
NeithertheboysnorIreply;CharlottePascalisdisarminglygorgeous,andI’mprettysurenoneofushaseverspokendirectlytoherbefore.
Daniellelooksatthethreeofusandsnorts.ShesquintsupatCharlotteandsays,“Youknowcanvassingforvotesisn’tallowed,right?”
“Don’tspoiltheparty,”Charlottesays,wrinklinghernose.“It’sjustalittleHomecomingtreat.”
Againstmywill,Ilookacrossthecourtyard,whereIreneandherpackhavebeenlounging.She’swatchingCharlottewithnarrowedeyes,herarmssplayedacrossthebench,herhenchwomenlurkingaroundherinpleatedskirts.IreneandCharlotte’sfriendshipturnedenmityhasbeenthesourceofgossipforalmostayearnow,andit’sonlyintensifiedsinceIrenepulledthat“ClassInseparables”stuntduringseniorsuperlatives.Basedonthewayshe’slookingatCharlottenow,I’msurprisedshemadeajokeaboutitatall.
Kevinisthefirsttoregainhisvoice.“Thanksforthetreat,”hetellsCharlotte.“GoodluckwithCourt.”
Charlottegiveshimaflirtatioussmile,glancesovertherestofus,andwalksaway.InoticeshemakesapointofavoidingIrene’scorneroftheyard.It’slikeferalcatsdelineatingtheirterritory.
“Sheisvery…um…yes,”Gunthersays,gulping.
“She’sstunning,”Kevinsays,andDaniellestiffens,“butshescaresme.”
“IswearIgetavibefromher,”Itellthem.It’satheoryI’vebroughtupbefore:thatCharlottegivesoffsomequeerenergy.Tallywastheonlyonewhoeveragreedwithme,butshewasmorefixatedonCharlotte’spopularitythanherpossiblesexuality.
“Idoubtthat,”Daniellesays.“She’sbeengoingoutwiththatCandlehawkdudefor,like,ayear.”
“Doesn’tmeanshecan’tbequeer,”Isay.
“Whateverherdealis,”Gunthersays,“Charlotte’sdefinitelymoreofaLadyMacbeththanaHomecomingQueen.”
Thistime,whenthecheerleadersshowupfortheendofourpractice,theybringtheboys’basketballteamwiththem.Theremustbeatleasttwentypeoplewatchingusnow.It’shardtokeepmycool,andIcantellmyteammatesfeelthesameway;evenDanielleseemsflushed.Butafterafewminutesofplayingforacrowd,westarttofeedofftheirenergy.WhenwefinishourscrimmagewithacrisplayupfromGoogy,thegroupinthestandscheersloudly.
“Thisisinsane,”Daniellesaysaswe’rewalkingoutofpractice.“Noone’severgivenashitaboutusbefore.”Shepausestohigh-fiveoneoftheboys’players,thenlookstomeindisbelief.“Damn.Iknowyouhateherguts,butIreneisreallydoingusasolid.”
Ishakemyhead,annoyedathowimpressivethewholethingis.“She’snotdoinganything.She’sjustboredwaitingformetodriveherhome,andherminionsfollowherwherevershegoes.”IpointovermyshouldertowherethepopularkidsorbitaroundIrenelikethesun.
Daniellecluckshertongue.“PoorCharlotteandherRiceKrispiesTreatsdon’tstandachanceofwinningQueen.”
Weseparate,headingtoourcars.Daniellesayssomethingaboutgoinghometotweakherapplicationessaysincewe’llbebusywithHomecomingallweekend.Iwishherluckanddropintomycar,gratefulthatit’salmosttheweekend.Ican’twaittogethome,takeahotshower,andkickbackwithamovie.
ButIrenedoesn’tgetinthecarrightaway.Sheloitersofftotheside,talkingtoHoney-Bellewithaseriousexpressiononherface.Imakeashowofstartingtheignitionandflickingonthelights,butsheignoresme.
Afterafulltwominutesofthis,Iopenthedoorandshout,“Excuseme!Canwego,please?!”
IreneholdsupherpalmtoindicateIshouldwait.Thenerveofitsendsmeovertheedge,andIpoundonthehornsoitblaresacrosstheparkinglot.
IrenejumpsandshootsmetheugliestlookI’veeverseen,butshefinallystepsawayfromHoney-Belle.Shegetsintomypassengerseatlikeshe’sdescendingintothelowestlevelofhell.Icanalmostfeelthenegativeenergycracklingoffher.
“Thatwasreallyrude,”shesnaps.
“Yes,Iagree,itwasveryrudeofyoutokeepmewaiting.”
Sheshakesherheadandjamsherseatbeltintothebuckle.IswitchonmymusicandcruiseoutoftheparkinglotfeelinglikeIjustwonaboxingmatch.
ButthenIrenejabsthestereooff.
“Whatthe—?!”
“I’mgettingmycarbackthisweekend,”shesayswithoutpreamble.“AndHoney-Belle’spickingmeuptomorrowmorning,soIwon’tneedaride.”
Iturnthemusicbackon,toodistractedbyheraudacitytounderstandwhatshe’stryingtosay.“So?”
“Soyoudon’thavetodrivemeanymore.”
Thatgetsmyattention.“Wait,really?Whatabouttomorrowafternoon?”
“Idon’tgohomeongamedays,”shesaysshortly,likeIshouldhaveknownthatalready.“Wegetreadyatschool.”
“SothisisthelasttimeIhavetodriveyou?”
“Yes.Ijustsaidthat.”
I’mtoodelightedtobeputoffbyhersnark.Onlyafewmoreminutesofthistensearrangement,andthenI’llbefreeforever.I’llneverhavetodealwiththisgirlagain.
We’requietuntilIremembersomethingthatdoesn’tquitefitwiththeinformationshe’sgivenme.
“Holdon,”Isay.“You’renotgoinghomebeforethefootballgame?Butdon’tyouhavetogetreadyforHomecomingCourt?Imean,like,don’tyouhavetodressupforhalftime?”
ForasecondIthinkshe’sgonnatellmeit’snoneofmybusiness.Butthen:“Mymom’sbringingmydress.I’llchangeafterwefinishoursecondquarterroutines.”
Isnort.Doessheevernotplanaroundherbelovedcheerleading?
“Soyou’regonnabeallsweatyinyourdress?Whydon’tyoujustsitouttheroutinestomorrownight?”
Nowsheglaresatme.“Wouldyousitonthebenchduringabiggamejustsoyoucouldlookprettyinadress?”
“No,butthat’sbecausewhatIdoisanactualgame.”
Shewhipsherheadaround.“Whatareyoutryingtosay?”
“What?Ijustmean,like,you’renotactuallycompetingforanything.You’recheeringonthecompetitors.There’snowinningorlosingforyou.”
Shetwistsinherseat,moreagitatedthanI’veeverseenher.“Ohokay,andthisiscomingfromsomeonewhoseideaof‘competing’islobbingaballatahoop?Cheerleadingismorecompetitivethanyoucanimagine.It’sgymnasticsmeetsacrobaticsmeetsdance,withashittonofcardiowork,nottomentiontheemotionalintelligenceittakestoreadacrowd’senergy—”
“Andyetyou’renotactuallywinningorlosinganything.It’sjustaperformance.Aperformanceyou’redoingforsomeoneelse.”
“It’snotforsomeoneelse,it’sforourselvesandourownphysicalityand—”
“It’sfortheboys’footballteam.Ortheirbasketballteam.Whicheverboys’teamisbeingworshippedthatnight.”
“Wow,aren’tyousuchabastionoffeminism,tearingdownothergirlsbecauseyouthinkwe’reoblivioustomisogyny—”
“Aren’tyou,though?OrisitjustmyimaginationthatI’veneverseenyoursquadatmybasketballgamesbefore?”
“Haveyoueveraskedforustobethere?”shecounters.“Idon’thavetimetoholdyourhandifyoucan’tevenbebotheredtospeaktous.I’mdoingmorethanenoughalready,captainingtwosquadsduringoverlappingseasonsandtryingtowinStudentAthleteoftheYear.”
Thislastparttakesmebysurprise.TheStudentAthleteoftheYearawardisjustaboutthehighesthonoraGrandmaEarlseniorcanwin.Thelastfewyears,it’salmostalwaysgonetosoccerorfootballplayers.
“You’retryingforSAOY?”Iask.
“Don’tsaythatlikeit’ssofuckingsurprising.”
“Itissurprising.I’veneverheardofacheerleaderwinningthat.”
“That’sbecausenocheerleadereverhas,”shesnaps,hereyesburning.“Butweworkjustashardasotherstudentathletes,sowhyshouldn’twebeconsidered?”
Ishakemyheadandturnawayfromher.
“What?”shespits.
“Itjustseemslikeawasteofyourenergy,”Isay,knowingverywellthatI’mplayingwithfirehere.“You’reobviouslygoingtowinHomecomingQueentomorrownight,whichisanaturalextensionofbeingcheerleadingcaptain,butinsteadoffocusingonthat,you’rethirstingafteranathleticawardyoustandnochanceofwinning?”
“Fuckyou,Zajac,”shegrowls.Ionlybarelyregisterheruseofmyname;it’sjarringcomingoutofhermouth.“Youhavegottobethemostarrogant,dismissive,judgmentalpersonI’veevermet—”
“Andwhoareyoutotalk?”Isaynastily.“You’rejustastuck-upcheerleaderwho’shighandmightyenoughtothinkthatHomecomingQueenisbeneathher.”
“Don’tyoudaretrytotellmewhoIam—”
“Ah,right,IforgotI’mnotallowedto‘makeassumptions’aboutyou.Sinceit’sourlastdaytogether,though,I’llleaveyouwithonefinalthought.”Mywordstumbleoutwithareckless,satisfyingfeeling.IknowI’mcrossingaline,butIcan’tstop.PeoplehavebeensingingIrene’spraisestomyfacefordays,butIknowjusthowshittyshecanbe.“It’snotmyfaultyou’resofuckinginsecureaboutbeingacheerleaderorthatnoone,includingyourownmother,takesyouseriouslyaboutit.Sofigureoutyourownshitandstoptakingitoutonotherpeople.”
Thesilencebetweenuscutslikeashardofglass.Ireneturnsveryslowlyinmydirection.Herjawisclenched.Hereyesaredarkfire.They’realso,tomyshock,slightlywet.
I’mbreathinghard;she’shardlybreathingatall.Idon’tknowwhatelsetodo,soItwistthevolumedialuntilit’sallthewayup,soloudthatitpoundsinmyears.Irenesaysnothing.Shesitseerilystillinthepassengerseat,herarmscrossedoverherpracticehoodie.
Whenwefinallypullintoherdriveway,shethrowsoffherseatbeltandsnatchesherbagsfromthebackseat.Justasshe’sabouttogetoutofthecar,shepunchesmystereooff.Icanonlygawkather.
Iopenmymouthtosaysomething,butbeforeIcanfigureoutwhat,sheslamsthedoorandstalksoffintoherhouse.
Thatnight,mysistersandIcurlupinThora’sbedtowatchTeenWitchatDaphne’srequest.PicklesandBooBooprowlacrossourlegs,restless.Theyhaven’tbeenallowedinMom’sgardenforseveraldays.
“Imesseduptoday,”Isaywhenwe’rehalfwaythroughthemovie.
“Didyouhitanothercar?”Thoraasks,andIshoveherwhileDaphnelaughs.
“No.IwasanassholetoIrene.”
“NemesisGirl?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,she’syournemesis.You’resupposedtobeanasshole.”
Daphnefrowns.“Whathappened?”
Itellthemaboutourspat—andhowuglyIwastoher.“Idon’tknowwhyIsaidthatthingabouthermom,”Isayfeebly.“Idon’tusuallygoforpeople’sweakspots.”
“No,youdon’t,”Thorasaysthoughtfully.“Soundsmorelikesomethingyourexwoulddo.”
Istareather.“Tallymightbetheworst,butshewouldn’tdothat.She’snotoutrightmalicious.”
“Yeah,shewould.Iwatchedherdoittoyouformonths.Shegotcompletelyinyourhead,makingyouworrythatyou’renotgoodenough.You’vebeenawalkinginsecuritysinceyoudatedher.”
Ipausethemovie.“YouthinkI’mawalkinginsecurity?”
Thoralooksstraightatme.Sheneverglossesoverthings.“Rightnow?Yes.Andthere’snoreasonyoushouldbe.You’resmartandcuteandreallygoodatbasketball.Youshouldbethriving.”
Atrickleofbilerunsdownmythroat.“Nooneelseseemstothinkthat.”
“Whocareswhatanyoneelsethinks?Whatdoyouthink?”
“Thora,doyoureallybelievethatnooneelse’sopinionmatters?”
“Absolutely.”Sheshrugslikeit’saseasyastwoplustwo.“Attheendoftheday,I’mtheonlypersonlivingmylife.WhyshouldIanswertoanyoneelse?”
“Youobviouslydon’trememberhighschoolverywell.”
Shesnorts.“OfcourseIdo.Theunspokensocialhierarchysucks.ButyouknowwhatI’vefiguredoutsincethen?”Shedancesherfingersinfrontofmyeyes.“It’sallperception,Scots.Makingpeopleseewhatyouwantthemtosee.Ifyouwantthemtothinkyoumatter,startactingliketheyshouldalreadyknowthatyoumatter.”
Daphnenods.“Fakeittillyoumakeit.”
“Exactly,”Thorasays.
IscratchBooBoo’sears,thinking.“Youwannaknowsomethingstupid?CarpoolingwithIreneisthecoolestI’vefeltallyear.Like,it’sthefirsttimepeoplehavepaidattentiontome.EvenTallywasjealous.Howfuckedupisthat?”
“Tallywasjealous?”Thoralaughshumorlessly.“God,thatgirlisafuckingcasestudy.She’sprobablyworriedthatyou’resecretlydatingIrene.”
Isnort.Theideaofthatisunthinkable.“Iwouldnever.Ican’tstandthatgirl.”
“MaybeIreneisn’tasbadasyouthink,”Daphnesays.“Whydoyouhateher,anyway?”
Ipause,considering.Ineverconfidedinmysistersaboutthetowtruckincident.ItwouldonlyopenacanofwormsifItoldthemnow.
“She’sjustajerk,”Isay.“She…kindamessedwithmelastyear.”
Thora’seyesflash.“What’dshedo?”
Ishakemyhead.“Nothing.Seriously,nothing.Ijustdon’tlikeher.”
IcantellThorawantstopressmeonit,butshedoesn’t.SheplantsakissonmyheadandgoesbacktowatchingthemoviewithDaphne.
You’vebeenawalkinginsecurity…
Isthattrue?Judgingbytheconstantacheinmychest,Ihavetobelieveitis.ButwhendidIbecomethisway?Ididn’tusedtocareaboutmysocialstatus;Iwascontenttoflyundertheradar.ButthatwasbeforeTally.Itwasalsobeforethetowtruckincident.
IalwayswantedtoconfrontIreneaboutthatprank.Iwantedtoscreamthatitwasacompletelydisproportionatereactiontomeknockingadrinkonher.Butthetruthis,Iwasafraidithadnothingtodowithspillingmydrink.Thatmaybeitwasacruelwhimofhers,ofallthepopularkids’,becauseIwasmoreofasocialpariahthanIevenknew.Thequeer,ganglygingerwhohadnorighttobeattheirparty.
Afterall,isn’tthatwhyTallyleftme?Becauseshecouldseethat,too?
5
FridayisthestartofHomecomingweekend.Iwakeupearly,straightenmyhair,andpullontheFightingReindeershirtI’vehadsincefreshmanyear.Daphnehogsthebathroommirror,paintingbrightredGElettersonhercheeks.ThemiddleschoolersarealwaysmoreexcitedthananyonefortheHomecominggame.
Inatwistofirony,thisistheearliestI’mreadytoleaveallweek.IfIwaspickingupIrenetoday,there’snochanceshe’dbeatmetoherdriveway.IalmostwishsheneededaridejustsoIcouldrubitinherface.AndmaybesoIcouldapologizeforwhatIsaidyesterday.
Instead,Iusetheextratimetopickupcoffeeformyfriends.SweetNoelle’s,thebestcoffeeshopintown,haspainteditswindowsforthegametonight.WhenthebaristaseesmeinmyFightingReindeershirt,shegrinsandgivesmeafreechocolatemuffin.IstuffmyfacewithitwhenIgetbackinmycar,relishingintheprivacyofdrivingaloneagain.
ButwhenIpullintoschoolafewminuteslater,alonehitsdifferently.Peopleglanceatmycar,butwhenI’mtheonlyonetogetoutofit,theyturnaway.Iguesstheydon’tcareaboutmeunlessI’mshuttlingIrenearound.
I’mbacktobeinganobody,andIhatetoadmititstings.
“Hey,happyFriday!”GunthersayswhenIshowupwiththecoffeetray.“Whythespecialtreat?Isitjustbecauseyouloveus?”
“BecauseIloveyou,andbecauseI’mfree.”IdropmybackpackandleanagainstDanielle’slocker.“Nomorecarpoolingforme.”
Ithoughtitwouldfeeleuphorictoannouncethat,butsurprisingly,Ifeelkindofbereft.
“Ding-dong,thewitchisdead,”Kevinsays.Hepassesthecoffeesaround,checkingtoseetheirdescriptionsfirst.“Yousureyouwantthis,Gunther?”
Gunthergrimaces.He’sonablackcoffeekickbecausehethinksitmakeshimmoresophisticated.“Iguess.Sendthoughtsandprayers.”Heswallowsthefirstsiplikeakidtakingmedicine.
“AndhazelnutwithextraespressoforDanielle,”Kevinsays,passingherthecup.“What’stheextrashotfortoday?TheAPLittest?”
“Yeah,’causeIhavetobeatyou,”Daniellesays,hikinghereyebrowsathim.
Kevinlaughs.“It’snotacompetitionifyou’retheonlyoneinit,Danielle.”
“Stillgonnaleaveyouinthedust.”
“Wegetit,youguysaresmart,”Gunthersays,rollinghiseyes.“Canwefocusonthetopicathand?Scottie’sbacktobeingoneofus.”
KevinandDaniellelaugh.“Ihavetoadmit,I’mkindofbummed,”Daniellesays.“Iwasgettingusedtoourcheeringsection.”
“Yeah,Iwasreadyforthecheerleaderstostartcheeringatyourgames,”Gunthersays.“WhichmeansI’dgetto,too.”
“They’dneverswitchtocheeringforus,”Isay.
“Theymight.Iheardabunchofthecheerleaderstalkingabouthowgoody’allare.”Guntherpauses,andforsomereasonhischeeksflushpink.“Honey-Bellesaidyou’rehershe-roes.”
DanielleandIlaugh,butbeforewecanrespond,myphonechimeswiththatdreadedtone.
TallyGibson:Gladtoseeyou’refreeofher.
“Howdoessheknowthesethings?”Iwhine,showingmyfriendsthemessage.
Daniellehuffsasusual,butKevinpullsouthisphone.“Damn,”hemutters.“Ginoneedstogetalife.”
HeshowsusGino’sInstagramStory:avideoofIreneandHoney-BellegettingoutofHoney-Belle’sJeep.ThecaptionsaysNomoreUberservice,backtoridingwiththeelites!!
“The‘elites’?”Daniellesayswithdisgust.“God,theypracticallyparodythemselves.”
“Weren’tyoujustsayingyouenjoyedtheircheeringsection?”Kevinteases,andDanielleshoveshim.
Idon’tsayanything.Ahotwaveofembarrassmentflushesovermybody.I’mmortifiedthatGinowouldwritethat.I’mevenmoremortifiedthatTallysawit.
Duringfirstperiod,wehaveaspecialextendedschedulesothevideojournalismkidscanbroadcasttheirlatestnewssegment.It’sHomecoming-centric,withachoppystoryaboutthefootballteam’spracticeregimenandinterviewswiththestudentgovkidsabouttheirdecoratingplans.ThelastsegmentisaboutHomecomingCourt.TenpeoplefrommygradearenominatedfortheKingandQueenspots,andoneoftheClevelandtriplets,whohavetheirhandsineverythingthatgoesonhere,nabbedinterviewswiththem.
“Yeah,Imean,it’sanhonor,”oneguysays.
“I’msoexcited,justso,soexcited,”apeppygirlgrins.
CharlottePascalisupnext.“Togetthiskindofrecognitionfromyourpeers,it’sjust—whatmorecanyouaskfor?”
AndthenIrene’sfacepopsup,andIsquirmuncomfortablyinmyseat.
“Areyousoexcited?”theClevelandtripletasks.
“Yeah,it’satrip,”Irenesayswithacasualflickofherhair.Shesoundslikeshecouldn’tgivetwoshits.
“Areyounervous?”
Ireneblinks.“Forthegame,yeah.I’mconcernedaboutgettingourroutinesright.We’vebeenworkingourassesoff,andrightnowI’msplittingmytimebetweenfootballandbasketballcheerleading,withdifferentsetsforeach—soIwanttomakesurewedoeverythingrightonFridaynight.”
“Whydidn’ttheybleepout‘asses’?”mycivicsteacherasks.“Andwhat’swiththisgirl’sanswer?”
“She’scheerleadingcaptain,”oneofmyclassmatessays.
“So?”
“Sothat’sallsheevertalksabout.HerfriendHoney-Bellesaysshe’srunningforStudentAthleteoftheYear.”
“Asacheerleader?”someonesneers.
Theshotchangestoanothernominee,butIstoplistening.Anunwelcomefeelingstretchesoverme,likeI’mstartingtounderstandIreneAbrahamevenifIdon’twantto.
Practicethatafternoonisdead.Thewholeteamseemstounderstandthatourshort-livedgloryisover.Whenwefinishforthedaywithnooneinthegymbutourselves,themoodissouranddefeated.GoogytriestolightenthingsbyaskingmetohitIrene’scaragain.Nobodylaughs.
WhenDanielleandIwalkoutside,myirritationspikes.There’sanumberoffansalreadytailgatingbythefootballfieldandI’mbittertorealizethey’llnevershowupforoneofmygamesinthesameway.NowonderTallywantedtotransfer.
DanielleandIswingbyherhousetogetreadyforthegame.Duringdinnerwithherfamily,mymoodfinallybrightens.Mr.andMrs.Zanderaskaboutbasketball,aboutthedancetomorrownight,aboutcollegeapplications.Teddysitsatthetablewithhislegsknockingexcitedly,dressedinareindeeronesiethatheinsistsonpairingwithanalienheadband.
“Holdon,”Mrs.Zandersayswhenwe’reabouttoleave.Ithinkshe’sabouttocomplimentourhomemadeGrandmaEarlT-shirts,butinsteadsheeyesDanielle’smakeupwithsuspicion.“Whoyoudressingupfor?”
“Nobody,”Daniellesays,toocasually.“It’stheHomecominggame,Mom.”
“IusedtoloveHomecomingweekend,”Danielle’sdadsays,oblivioustotheundercurrentoftensionbetweenhiswifeanddaughter.“EveryonewassodistractedwiththepompandcircumstancethatmyfriendsandIwerefinallyabletoplayDungeons&Dragonsinpeace.”
“I’veneverseenyoutryasmokyeye,”Danielle’smomcontinues.“Scottie,who’sshetryingtoimpress?”
Ishakemyhead.“Nobody.AsfarasIcantell,Danielle’sjustinlovewithbasketball.”
DaniellehikeshereyebrowsasiftosayHa,see?,butIknowherwellenoughtopickuponthenervouswayshe’smessingwithherjacketzipper.She’sprobablythinkingaboutseeingKevinonthefieldwhenmarchingbandperformsduringhalftime.
Thestadiumisswellingwithpeoplebythetimewejointheadmissionline.Thedrumsarebooming,theskylightsarebright,andtheairsmellslikehickory.IrememberTallysqueezingmyhandlastyear,promisingwecouldescapetohercarifwegottoocold.Candlehawk’sHomecominggameistonight,too,andshe’sprobablylovingthethrillofabiggerstadium,thebrighterlights,thenewscrewsplantedonthefieldtofilmtheirstudentbody.
It’scoldonthemetalbleachers.Thebandisstationedbehindus,blastingtheirtrumpetsandpoundingtheirdrums.Thecheerleadersaredownonthesidelines,calmlygoingabouttheirwarm-upstretchesinthemidstofthebuildingexcitement.IfIsquint,IcanjustmakeoutIrene,adarkponytaildirectingtherestoftheteam.She’sobviouslyinherelement.NotthatIcare.
Thegamestartsafewminuteslater.Ourplayerssprintontothefieldthroughahandmadebannerofanoldladyinafootballhelmet.Thecheerleadersdivestraightintotheirroutines,ampingupthecrowduntilwe’reinafull-blownfrenzy,andIheartheechoofIrenelecturingmeaboutcheerleaders’emotionalintelligence.
Afewminutesbeforehalftime,theotherteamfumblestheballandoneofourguysrunsitbackforatouchdown.Thecrowdisroaring,ridingthewaveoftheplay.Thecheerleaderspopuptorunavictoryroutine.Ireneisatthefrontoftheirformation,directingthepyramidbeforeshegoestotakeherplace.
Ilookaway,watchingthefootballplayersswitchouttheoffensiveanddefensivelines.Theneveryonegasps.
Thecheerleaderatthetopofthepyramidhasfallenoff.
There’saprolongedpause,followedbyarumblingofanxietyfromthecrowd,asthecheerleadingcoachandsportsmedicineteamrushtothesidelines.Thecheerleadersbreakoutoftheirpyramidandhoveraroundthegirl,blockingeveryone’sview.Theannouncer’svoicewaversashesays,“Holdonhere,folks,lookslikewe’vehadanincidentonthesidelines…”
Afteralong,suspendedmoment,thehuddleclearsandthegirlhobblestoherfeet.Irenepressesclosetoher,talkingtoherasthesportsmedicineguysheaveherforwardononefoot.
“Andthankgoodness,itlookslikeshe’sokay,”theannouncersays,hisvoiceheartyagain.“Sprainedankle,fromthelooksofit.Yetanothersacrificethesecheerleadersmaketosupportouryoungmen.”
“Sprainedankle,shit,”Daniellemumbles.
“They’renotcheeringjusttosupportthe‘youngmen,’”Isay,annoyed.
“Imean…yeah.Butthepointis,Ihopethatgirl’sokay.”
Idon’tanswer.Irenehasdisappeared,leavingthecheerleadersindisarrayonthesidelines.Idon’tseeheragainuntiltheHomecomingCourtparadesontothefieldduringhalftime.Sheglidesalongbetweenherparents,easilyvisiblebecauseofherlongdarkhair.Iwonderifhermomhasbeenhereallalongtowatchherroutines,orifsheonlycametoescortherforCourt.
WhentheyannounceHomecomingQueen,nooneissurprisedtohearthenameIreneAbraham.ShesmilesassheacceptsthecrownandflowersandposesforpictureswithherKing.Toanyoneelse,itmustlooklikeshe’sradiantwithhappiness,butmyinstinctstellmeshe’sberatingherselfforthecheerleadingstuntgonewrong.
6
OnSaturday,DadandIgetupearlytotakemycartotheSleddBrothersAutoShop.Theypromiseusthebumperisaneasyfix,butwiththeamountofbusinessthey’vehadlately,it’sgoingtotakeseveraldaysbeforeIgetmycarback.Myparentswillhavetodropmeoffatschooluntilthen.Whenthemechanicstellustheestimatedcost,IfeelweirdknowingthatIrene’sinsurancepolicywillpayforit.
TherestofthedayisdevotedtogettingreadyfortheHomecomingdance.MomandDaphnechirpaboutitallafternoon,bombardingmewithideasforhowtodomyhairasifIknowwhatthehellthey’retalkingabout.Finally,Thoratakespityonmeandsetsupahairandmakeupstationinthebasement.Shehangsmysuitonthedoorfor“inspiration,”queuesupmusiconherportablespeaker,andbrewsafreshpotofcoffeetokeepusinthezone.Daphneplopsdownbesideher,offeringinput,andIsitstillandsilent,lettingmysisterstakethereins.
ThoraandDaphnemoveeffortlesslythroughGirlWorld.TheyspeakacommonlanguageI’veneverunderstood,withshimmerywordslikecontouringandbandeausandbralettes.It’stheirbirthright,thisabilitytobelikeanyothergirl.I’veneverhadthesamebirthright,andI’veunderstoodthatsincelongbeforeIheardthewordgay
Maybethat’soneofthereasonsIlikedTally:Shehadnoqualmsaboutmovingthroughbothworlds.NowIhavetostraddlethetwowithouther.
IbreatheeasierwhenThoraandDaphneagreeonahairstyleandreassuremeofhowstunningI’mgoingtolook.Daphnehandsmeacoffeeandsmilesagiddy,ecstaticsmile.Herowncoffeelookstoobigforherlittlehands,butshetakesapracticedsipandsmacksherlipstogetherthewayThoradoes
FromthemomentIwalkintothedance,myhearthurts.AllIcanthinkaboutisTallyandhowthisshouldhavebeenourperfectseniorHomecoming.I’msopreoccupiedthatImisshalfthethingsDanielleandGuntheraretalkingabout.TherecouldbeawildbullchasingmedownandIwouldn’tevennotice.
Butspeakingof,there’sIrene.
She’sdancingwithagroupoffriends,andshelooksgenuinelyhappy,butIdon’tcare.Danielle,meanwhile,istryingtoactlikeshe’snoteyeingthestageeveryothersecond.Kevinisupthere,bleedinghisredguitar,hisblacktwistscatchingthelightabovehim.He’sdressedinslacksandabutton-upshirt,butstillwearinghistrademarkstringhoodieontop.
Overbythepunchbowl,CharlottePascalismakingashowofpouringlittlepapercupsforherfriends.Whenoneofthemshiftstotheside,IseeasilverflaskinCharlotte’shand.
IcatchGunther’seyeandnodtowardthedrinkstable.Hewatchesforasecond,thenraiseshiseyebrowsandasks,“Feelingthirsty?”
WesidleuptowardCharlotte.Beforewecansayanything,shespeakstousoutofthecornerofhermouth.
“It’sonlyforpeoplewhovotedforme.”
Guntherside-eyesme.“Webothdid,”helies.
“Everyonekeepssayingthat,andyetthatbitchiswearingmycrown.”Sheskirtshereyesjudgmentallyovermysuit.Ifeelmyfaceflush.“DollardonationonVenmo,”shesaysfinally.“Titleit‘seniorfundraiser.’Looparoundthetableandcomebackattheendofthesong.”
GuntherandIpeelofftotheendoftherefreshmentstable,wherewepullupourphonestoVenmoCharlotte.There’sbeenawholeslewofpaymentsinthelastfewminutes,allofthemreferencingthefundraiserwithvariousemojistackedontotheend.
Weloopbackafterthesongends.Charlotteslidestwocupsdownthetable,stillnotlookingatus.
“Eugh,”Gunthersays,takingasipbeforeIcan.“Thistastesliketheinsideofmymascotcostume.”
Iswallowsomedownandfeelmythroatburn.Thetasteisdefinitelynasty.
“Gross,”Isay,lickingmylips.“That’swaymorevodkathanpunch.”
Ineverdrink—oratleast,Ihaven’tsincethepartylastyear—butitfeelsgoodtohavesomethingtodo.Thealcoholhitsmerightwhentheslowsongscomeon.Couplesaregrabbingeachothertoswayandbrushforeheadsandmakeout,andIrememberTallyatpromlastyear,whisperingsillyjokesinmyear.
IhearThora’swordsinmyheadagain.WasTallyreallyallthatbad?Andifshewas,whydoIfeelsosadandlostwithouther?
IslipawayfromthecrowdwithoutcaringwhereI’mgoing.Thelocker-linedhallwayisawelcomebreathofair,moonlitandempty.Isinktothefloorandrestmyheadagainstthecoldlockerbehindme.
Impulsively,Igrabmyphone.Tally’sInstagramStoryhasbeenupdatedwithapostfromCandlehawk’sHomecomingdance.It’sasnippetofsomegirlpretendingtospanksomeguywhilethecrowdcheersthemon.Tally’slaughterblaresthroughthespeaker,sweetandexultant.
MythroatistightbeforeIcanstopit.Ituckmyphoneawayandwipemyeyes.ThenIjustsitthere,tryingtomakesenseofhowthishappened,howIlostTallyandmyselfinthesamefellswoop.
I’mabouttogetupwhenapairofgirlscomesclackingdownthehallway.They’reswishingintheirdresses,whisperingsharplyateachother.Idon’thavetimeforanyoneelse’sdrama,especiallytonight,soI’mabouttodashoutoftherewhenIcatchthesoundofavoiceI’vebeenhearingallweek.
“I’mnotinthemood,Honey-Belle,”Ireneissaying.“I’vegotenoughonmyplaterightnow.”
“Onedanceisn’tgonnahurtyou,”Honey-Belleinsists.“It’llbegoodforyou.Comeon,youjustwonHomecomingQueen!Youdeservesomefun.”
“Withthegirlsyou’vebeenpickingout?Fatchance.”
Myheartjoltsunexpectedly.DidIjusthearright?Girls?
“You’repickyashell,”Honey-Bellecontinues.“WhatwaswrongwithMadeleineKasper?She’soneofthecutestsophomores—”
“YouknowIcan’tdateasophomore—”
“Stopbeingsouppity.There’ssomeoneoutthereforyou.Youjustneedtoopenyoureyesandreceivewhattheuniversewantsyoutohave!”
Ican’tmove.There’safaintringinginmychest.It’sbizarretohearIrenechattingawaywithherbestfriendlikethis—almostlikeI’mseeingbehindacurtain—andIstillcan’tgetoverthegirlsthing.IsitcommonknowledgethatIreneAbrahamlikesgirls?DidIsomehowmissthatmemo?
“Ican’tworryaboutdatingrightnow,”Irenesays.Shesoundstired.“Mom’sonmyassaboutpayingthembackforthatstupidinsurancedeductible,butshestilldoesn’tknowIusedmysavingsoncheercamplastsummer.UnlessIquitcheerleadingandfindajob,there’snowayI’llbeableto—”
“Youcan’tquitcheerleading,”Honey-Bellecutsin.“ThisisthefirsttimeoneofushasarealshotatSAOY!Howmanyyearsuntilanothercheerleaderevencomesclosetothat?”
“Tellthattomymom,”Irenesays.
“She’llcomearound,”Honey-Bellesays,kickingaheelupagainstthelockers.“Sheknowshowimportantthisistoyou.DidyoutellheraboutBensonyet?”
“No.What’sthepoint,whenthey’renotgonnaletmego?”
“Butthatcheerleadingcoachwantsyou,Irene!”Iputthepiecestogether:BensonUniversityisaschoolinVirginia,anditsoundslikeIrenemighthaveaspotontheircheerleadingsquad.“AndIknowyouwanttogothere,evenifyou’retryingtoactallcoolaboutit.”Itsoundslikethere’sasmalltussleandIimagineHoney-BelletryingtosmotherIrenewithahugandpositivevibes.
“YouknowIcan’tgotherewithoutascholarship.MyparentswouldneveragreetothatwhenIcouldgotoanin-stateschoolformuchless.TheBensoncoachsaidshecanfightformeifIwinsomethingasimpressiveasSAOY,butwhatifIdon’t?”
“Don’tthinklikethat.Youhavearealshot.”
“Ihopeso.”Shesoundsdowncast,defeated.“Charlotte’salreadytryingtosabotageme.She’sgoingaroundtellingeveryonethatevenifcheerleadingisquote,unquote,‘alegitimatesport,’thatI’mobviouslynotagoodcaptainifI’mlettinggirlsfallduringourroutines.”
“Thatjealous,snaggletoothedheifer,”Honey-Bellesays,andIhavetochokebackalaugh.It’sthefirsttimeI’veeverheardherangry.
“Plus,Ican’tfigureoutwhetherwinningQueenhelpsorhurtsmychances,”Irenecontinues.“DopeoplethinkgirlsarelessathleticwhentheywinaYou’rePrettyAward?”
“Absolutelynot.You’reaboss.Everyoneknowsthat.”
“Maybe,”Irenesays.Shedoesn’tsoundconvinced.“Idon’tknow,Honey-Belle.IhavetowinSAOYtoaffordBenson,andIcan’twinSAOYifI’mnotcheering,butIcan’tpayforthisdeductibleunlessIquitthesquadandgetajob.”
“Youhavetotellyourparents,”Honey-Bellesays.“Justexplainittothem.Givethemachancetounderstand.”
“Theywon’tunderstand,especiallymymom.She’llmakemequitthesquadandworkatherpracticetopaythemback.She’llfinallyhavesomerealleveragetouseinherfavor.”
Irene’svoiceisdifferentthanI’veeverheardbefore.ItprovokesafeelinginmethatIcan’tquitename.Ittakesamomenttorealizeit’ssympathy.ShehasalotmoreonhershouldersthanIthought.Thatdoesn’texcusehowshittyshe’sbeentowardme,butstill.Ifeelforher.
Irenesighs,Honey-Bellesoothesher,andtheyfinallyleave.IwaititoutforaminutebeforeIfollowsuit.
Whenthedanceends,it’scollectivelydecidedthatthenightwillcontinueattheChristmasEmporium.It’sawell-knownsecretthatGrandmaEarlstudentshavebeenhostingafter-partiestherefordecades.Plus,Honey-BellehasakeytoleteveryoneintotheSantaroom,wheretheEarl-HewettskeeptheirstockofSantaClausstatuesthatkidstakepictureswithwhenthey’redrunk.
Kevindrivesussincehe’stheonlyonewhodidn’tpartakeinthe“seniorfundraiser.”GunthertakesthefrontwhileDanielleandIsitinthebackseat,holdingKevin’sguitarcaseacrossourlaps.GuntherhelpedhimselftoanothertworoundsoffundraiserwhileIwasoutinthelockerhallway,sohe’sgigglyandgoofy.Hewon’tstoplaughingabouthowhehastopee.
TheEmporiumgarageisopenwhenwearrive.Peoplearemillingaboutintheirsuitsanddresses,halfinsidetheEmporium,halfoutsideintheparkinglot.Theairiscoolandsmellslikedeadleavesandcampfire.
AsmyfriendswalkofftosurveytheSantastatues,Itakeamomenttodrinkwaterandmulloversomethingthat’sbeenfermentinginmybrain.Itfizzledtolifesometimeinthelasthour,afterIoverheardIreneandHoney-Belleatthedance.It’sawild,ridiculousidea,butIcan’tshakethefeelingthatitcouldbeexactlywhatIneedtosolvemyproblems.Imean,didn’tmysisterstellmetofakeittillImakeit?
ImakethedecisionandmarchtowardIrenebeforeIlosemynerve.
She’sstandingwithasmallcrowdoffriendswholookupasIapproach.It’soutsidetheprescribedsocialnormsformetoseekthemout,butrightnowIdon’tcare
“Irene,”Isayloudly.
“Yeah?”shesays,anedgetohervoice.Shecrossesherarmsoverherapricotdressandeyesmewarily.
“Ineedtotalktoyou.”Igiveherameaningfullook.“It’simportant.”
I’veneverbeensoboldbefore.Butwhyshouldn’tIbe,especiallynowthatIknowallherweakspots?
ShefollowsmeoutbackbehindtheEmporium,wherethelong-forgottentraintracksare.Therearefewerpeopleouthere;it’llbeeasiertohaveaprivateconversation.Iscootontothetrackinclineandwaitasshefoldsherselfdownnexttome.
“Well?”sheprompts.
Ituckmykneesup,wrappingmyarmsaroundmypantlegslikethisisthemostcasualconversationIcouldimagine.
“IheardyouandHoney-Belletalkinginthehallway,”Isay,lookinghersquareintheeye.“Ihadnoideayouwereintogirls.”
There’saflickerofalarminhereyes,butshesetsherexpressionandgivesmeasteelylook.“Whyareyoualwaysinthewrongplaceatthewrongtime?”
Ofcourseshewantstoblamemeforherdecisiontohaveaprivateconversationinapublicplace.“Iwasalreadyinthatlane,”Isaycoolly.“You’retheonewhofailedtocheckifthecoastwasclear.”
Shelaughsbitterly.“Clever.Lovethemetaphor.”
“Right?Itjustcametomeinaburstofinspiration.”
Ireneshakesherheadandcombsherfingersthroughherhair.Forthefirsttime,itreadstomeasanervoushabitinsteadofvanity.Iexpecthertodenyeverything,ortothreatenme,butherresponseissomethingelseentirely.
“Ifyou’replanningsomesortofpaybackforwhatIdidtoyourcar,thenjustgetitoverwith.”
I’msosurprisedIsputteroutalaugh.“What?”
Shesearchesmyeyes.“Whatdoyouwant,Zajac?”
“DoIstrikeyouastheblackmailingtype?Thatisseriouslyfuckedup.I’mnottalkingaboutthatatall.Iwouldneveroutyou.”
Inthemoonlight,hereyesrelaxtheslightestbit.“Sowhatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Ithinkwecanhelpeachother.Howmuchisyourcarinsurancedeductible?”
“What?”
“Justanswerthequestion,Abraham.Howmuch?”
Shesetshermouth.“Athousand.”
“Wooooof.”It’shigherthanIexpected,butstillwithinrangeforthisplantowork.“Andhowmuchdoyouhaverightnow?”
“Notenough.Whydoyoucare?”
“Ihaveafatwadofcashfrommysummerjob.Enoughtocoveryourdeductible.”It’strue:IworkedhoursandhoursattheChuckMunnyCineplex,thevintagemovietheaterintown,sweepinguppopcornandwatchingoldfilms.I’dbeenkeepingthecashasextraspendingmoney,especiallysinceI’mplanningtoattendcollegein-stateforfree,butnowIhaveamuchbetterwaytouseit.
Irenenarrowshereyes.“Andwhywouldyougivethatmoneytome?”
“Okay,listen.”Iclearmythroat.Thisisthepartthatcouldeithergobeautifullyordisastrously.OnceIputthisoutthere,she’llbeabletoputmeonblastifshewantsto.ButIhaveaninstinctthatshewon’t.
“EveryoneatGrandmaEarlandCandlehawkthinksmyteamisajoke,”Isay.“ThatI’majoke.Butyouhavetheclouttochangetheirminds.Iwanttogettheteamsomeattentionsowe’llstartplayingbetterandbeatCandlehawkintheChristmasClassic.”Ipause,rememberingTally’stinnylaughonmyphonewhileIsatbymyselfinthatemptyhallway.“Andasyouhavenodoubtrealized,TallyGibsondidanumberonme.IwanttomakeherjealousandIthinkIknowhow.Themostshe’spaidattentiontomelatelywaswhensheheardIwasgivingyourides.Ifsheseesmehangingoutwithyouforreal,she’lllosehermind.”
Irenehikeshereyebrows.“Soyouwanttopaymetohangoutwithyou?”
Myheartthumpswildlybeneathmysuitjacket.“Iwanttopayyoutodateme.”
There’saswellofsilence.
ThenIrenelaughsintothecoldair.“Dateyou?”shesaysshrilly,likeI’vejustsuggestedthecraziestthingintheworld.“Asin,pretendtobeyourgirlfriend?You’renotseriousrightnow.”
“Iabsolutelyam.”
“IsthissomekindofCan’tBuyMeLovefantasy?”
I’mmomentarilystymied.“Youknowthatmovie?”
Sherollshereyes.“God,youreallydothinkyou’reunique,”shesaysunderherbreath.“You’retellingmeyouactuallywanttopaymetomakeyoumorepopular?Youdorealizethat’snotathinganymore,right?”
“Bullshitit’snotathing.Orareyoutellingmethecheerleadersandbasketballguyshavebeenshowinguptomypracticesoutofthegoodnessoftheirhearts?”
“Soyou’retryingtouseme.”
“I’mmanipulatingasituationsowebothbenefit.YouneedthemoneyifyouwanttokeepcheerleadingandwinSAOY.Thismightgetyourmomoffyourback,don’tyouthink?”
Shebreathes.Icanseethewheelsturninginherhead.
“Soyoudowanttooutme,inasense,”shesaysflatly.Shesoundstheleastbitvulnerable.
ThisisthepartIwasworriedabout.“Onlyifyouwantto.Youdon’tstrikemeasthekindofpersonwholetsothersdeterminehernarrative.Ifyouwanttodothis,great,we’llannounceithoweveryouwantto.Ifyoudon’twantto,that’sfine.I’llwalkawayandneverbringitupagain.Iwon’teventellmybestfriend.”
Shewrapsherarmsaroundhercalves.“Iwouldn’tcareifyoutoldDanielle.”
Iblink.“YouknowthatmybestfriendisDanielle?”
ShestaresatmelikeI’vegrownanotherhead.“Yes?EveryoneknowsyourbestfriendisDanielle.Ivotedfory’allfor‘ClassInseparables,’forfuck’ssake.”
I’matalossforwords.Iwassuresheknewnothingaboutmylife—atleastnotuntilwegotinthatfenderbender.“Oh.Well…IvotedforyouandCharlottePascal.”
Irenesnorts.It’sthefirsttimeshe’sappreciatedoneofmyjokes.
“YoushouldknowthatIdon’ttakecomingoutlightly,”Isaydelicately.“ButIdothinkyoucanuseittoyouradvantage,especiallywhenitcomestogettingmorevotesforSAOY.Peopleareallaboutthequeertrendrightnow.They’dbottleourhormonesandsellthemiftheycould.”
Ireneside-eyesme.“You’remorecynicalthanIrealized.”
“It’strue,andyouknowit.Whatwouldyouhavetolose?”IholdoutmyhandslikeI’mofferinghertheworldonagoldplatter.“YoualreadywonHomecomingQueen.Yourcheerroutinesareamazing,minusthelittlemishaplastnight,whichI’mguessingonlyhappenedbecauseyouweredistractedwithworryingabouthavingtoquitcheerleading.AndnowyoucanpushboundariesbynotonlybeingthefirstcheerleadertowinSAOY,butbyopenly‘dating’agirlinthemonthsleadinguptoit.”
“DoyouthinkI’mnotpushingboundariesalready?”sheaskssharply.“Howmanydesicheerleadersdoyouknow?”
Ishrug,tryingtoplayitcool.“Justyou,I’mprettysure.Sowhynotgobigorgohome?”
Shepursesherlips.“Forhowlong?”
“UntilweplayCandlehawkinthedistrictchampionshipinFebruary.”
“Fourmonths?”
“It’snotaslongasitsounds,”Iinsist.“Look,ifyoucangetyoursquadtocheerforus,it’llhaveahugeeffectonourplaying.We’llbeatCandlehawkintheChristmasClassic,andthenwe’llridethathighstraightintothechampionship,bywhichtimeyouwillsurelyhavesnaggedanominationforSAOY.”
Sheshakesherheadstubbornly.Ihavenochoicebuttopulloutthebigguns.
“Or…,”Isayinnocently,“youcouldquitcheerleadingforfourmonthswhileyouworkoffyourdebtstoyourparents.NotsurethatwouldhelpyouwinSAOY,though,whichmeansyou’dhavenoshotatgoingtoBenson.”
Ifeelshittyaboutleveragingherdream,butIneedhertosayyes.Myheartisalmostbeatingoutofmychestatthispoint.
Irenerunsherfingeralonghermouth,thinking.“Willyougivemethemoneyupfront?”
“Yes.”
“Andyouwon’ttellanyonewe’redoingthis?”
“Notifyoudon’t.”
Shesmoothsherbottomlipagain.It’sactuallyverydistracting.“Ican’tbelieveI’mconsideringthis.”
“NeithercanI,”Iadmit.“ButIalsocan’tbelieveyou’veconvertedmeintoasecretcheerleadingfanwhowillprobablyvoteforyouforSAOY.Iguessthisisjustanunprecedentedweek.”
Shelooksatme,hereyestwinklingthetiniestbit.“Fine,”shesays,extendingherhandformetoshake.
Igripherwarm,softpalmandsqueeze.Arushofexcitementshootsupthroughmyarm.Thisisthefirstthingtogorightinalong,longtime.
“Howdowestart?”Ireneasks.
“Yougotyourcarbackfromtheshop,right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”Ismirk.“Firststep:YoudriveustoschoolonMonday.”
7
Irenepicksmeupat7:22onMondaymorning.IknowtheexactminutebecauseshecallsthreetimesinarowwhileI’mblow-dryingmyhair.
“I’mcoming!”Ibarkintothephone.
Shecluckshertongueandhangsupwithoutaword.
WhenIstepintothedriveway,there’sanunforeseencomplication.Thoraisstandingbeneaththecarport,keysinhand,gloweringatIrene’scar.
“Uh…goodmorning,”IsaytoThora.
“Isit?”Hereyesnarrow.“MomtoldmeIneedtogiveyouaridebecauseyourcar’sstillatSleddBrothers,butitlookslikeReginaGeorgegotthesamememo.”
Irenestaresbetweenusthroughthewindshieldofhercar.Shelooksimpatient.
“IthoughtI’dtoldMomIhadaride.”Iswingmybackpackovermyshoulder,tryingtolooklikeI’minahurry.“Sorryaboutthat,butdon’tworry,I’mallset!”
IstepawaytowardIrene’scar,butThoragrabsmebythearm.
“Doyouwannaexplainwhyyournemesisisgivingyouaride?”
“Um,it’skindofcomplicated,I’lltellyoutonight—”
Sheholdsmyarmtighterandwaits.
I’mnotsurehowtoexplainthistoher.IknewI’dhavetoconvincemyfamilymorethananyonethatIreneandIaredating,butIthoughtI’dhaveafewmoredaystoprepareforit.AndThoraisthelastpersonIwanttostartwith.She’swaytooshrewdforthisshit.
“There’sbeenan…unexpectedlovedevelopment.”
Thorasnorts.“Withher?Shehityourcarlastweek.Andyousaidshebulliedyoulastyear.”
Ishrug.“Forgiveandforget,right?Peoplechange.”
“Scots.Haveyoulostyourmind?ThisbitchisgonnamessyouupjustlikeTallydid.”
Thecardoorswingsopen.Irenestepsout,whippinghersunglassesoffwithamovethatsuggestsshe’sreadyforadeathmatch.“Hi,”shesays,hervoicelevelandcool.“Thisbitch’snameisIrene.”
Thoraturnsonherheeltofaceher.She’sseveralinchestallerthanIrene,butIreneholdsherownandreturnstheglareThora’sgivingher.Ihoverbetweenthem,mypulsequickening.
“Soyou’retheonewho’smessedwithmysistertwicenow,”Thorasays,dangerouslycalm.SheprowlsaroundthehoodofIrene’scar,examiningit.“Hmm.Seemslikeyourrideisgoodasnew.Wouldn’titbeashameifmyhandslipped?”
Sheholdsuphercarkeyandmimeslikeshe’sgoingtoscrapethedriver’ssidedoor.
“Thora,don’t—”Isay.
Irenesetshermouth.“Iwoulddeserveit.Soifthat’swhatyouneedtodo,goahead.”
Shetakesastepback,clearingapathtowardhercar,andmybrainshort-circuits.ThisisthefirstadmissionofguiltI’veheardfromher.Thoranarrowshereyesevenfurther.
“We’rerunninglate,”Isay,stridingtowardthepassengerside.“Thora,please,weneedtogo.”
“Whydidyoubullymysister?”Thoraasks.
Irene’seyesflickertowardme.Shehasthegracetolookashamed.“Imadeamistake.”
“Amistake,”Thorasayswithahollowlaugh.“Bullyingisn’tamistake.Haveyouapologized?”
BythewayIreneexhales,Icantellhowhumiliatingthisisforher.“No,Ihaven’t.”
Thoradoesn’treplyatfirst.Thenshetiltsherchinandsays,“I’msurprisedyoucanstandwithaspinethatweak.”
Irene’scheekscolor.“I’mworkingonit.”
There’saprolongedsilence.ThorastaresdirectlyatIrene,unabashedlyassessingher.Thensheturnstome.Icantellbythefoldofhermouththatshe’srelenting.Fornow.
“Youcallmeifshefuckswithyou,”Thoratellsme.ShesendsonelastglareatIrene,thenslidespastusandmakesherwayintothehouse.
Irenegetsbackinthecarwithoutanotherword.I’mstillreelingasIdropmybagsinthebackseat.WhenItakeapeekaroundthetrunkofhercar,therearbumperlooksgoodasnew.
Irene’scarisspotlesslycleanandsweetscented;there’savanillaairfreshenerattachedtotheACandthewindshieldlookslikeshescrubsitregularly.There’sasingleelegantcheerribbonhangingfromtherearviewmirror.She’splayingmusic,butit’stoosoftformetohear.
“Yoursisterlookedlikeshewastryingtoburnmewithhereyes,”Irenesaysinaclippedtone.“Ifyou’dcomeoutsideontime,wecouldhaveavoidedthatwholestupidaltercation.”
Isnort.“Youknowhowelsewecouldhaveavoidedit?Ifyou’dnevermessedwithmeinthefirstplace.”
“Isaiditwasamistake.”
“Somemistake.”
Irenepopsastickofguminhermouth.Shedrumsherfingersanxiouslyonthesteeringwheel.“Ifwe’regoingtobeinlove,canyoupleasetrytorunontime?”
“Canyoupleasetrytoactlikethekindofgirlanothergirlmightfallinlovewith?”
Iexpectanotherretort,butashadowcrossesoverhereyes.“Idon’tneedthisontopofeverythingelsetoday.”
Iavoidlookingather.MaybeIshouldberevelinginherdiscomfort,butallIcanfeelisempathy.Imayhateher,butIwouldn’twishhomophobiaonanyone.
“Itwon’tbethatbad.”Itapmyfingersontheconsolelikethisisallverynonchalant;Idon’twanthertothinkIcare.“NoonereallysaidanythingwhenIcameout.Justtrytoactlikeit’ssomethingpeopleshouldhaveknownallalong.”
Irenedoesn’tsayanything.Thesilencebetweenusfeelsheavy.Sheclearsherthroatandsays,“Playasong.”
IthinkI’vemisheardher.“What?”
“Playasong,”shesaysimpatiently.“You’vegotoneforeverydamnmood,don’tyou?Soplaysomethingupbeat.Somethingthat’s—Idon’tknow—”
Iknowwhatshe’stryingtosay.Somethingtogetmethroughthis.
Iscrollthroughmylibrary,hoveringoverafewoptions,untilIfindtheperfecttrack.Perfectbecauseit’ssoridiculous.IconnecttoherBluetooth,pressPLAY,andwaitforherreaction.
BUM.BUMBUMBUM—
Icantelltheexactsecondsherecognizesit,becauseshegivesmethatlook.
“Really?”sheasks.
Ishrugandturnthevolumeup.“Ohcomeon.‘EyeoftheTiger’iseveryone’sfavoritepump-upsong.Ithasmajordon’t-fuck-with-meenergy.”
“Ithascheesy-sports-movieenergy.”
“Yeah,andyoulovesports.You’reanathlete,remember?”
“Screwyou,”shesays,butherheart’snotinit.
“Fine,”Isay,takingpityonher.“What’syourfavoritesong?”
“I’mnottellingyouthat.”
“Favoritemovie,then.We’lldothesoundtrack.”
Sheshakesherhead.“No,thiswillwork.”Sheflexesherhandsonthesteeringwheel.Ipretendnottonoticethatherkneeisshaking.Isthisreallyagoodidea?
Whenwepullintotheschoolparkinglot,myhandsaresweating.Irenekillstheignition.“Areyouready?”sheasks.There’saslightquakeinhervoice.
“Wedon’thavetogothroughwiththisifyoudon’twantto.”
Sheturnstomewithherjawset.“Iwouldn’thaveagreedifIdidn’twantto.”
Westareateachotheracrosstheconsole.It’salmostlikeagameofchicken,whereoneofusishopingtheotherwillbackdownfirst.Iknowit’snottoolatetocallthisoff,butIdon’twantto.Ithinkofmyteam.OfthehaughtyCandlehawkplayers.OftheshameIfeltwheneveryonelaughedatmycarbeingtowedaway.
Mostofall,IthinkofTally.
“Fine,”Isay.“Sellthiswithallyou’vegot.”
Shesnorts,tuckingherkeysintoherbag.“You’reforgettingthatIspendhalfmytimeperforming.It’syouweneedtoworryabout.”
Iignorethejabandpushmywayoutofthecar.Westandupatthesametime,side-eyeingeachotheracrosstheroof.Already,Icanfeeltheattentiononus.Headsareturningourway.
Irenemeetsmeatthefrontofthecarandgrabsmyhandintheloosestgripimaginable.“I’monlydoingthisuntilwegettoyourlocker,”shesaysunderherbreath.“God,yourhandsaresweaty.”
“Andyoursareascoldasyourheart,”Isnipback.“Justsmileandworkyourhot-girlmagic.”
Shetakesadeepbreath.IignorethenervousnessinhereyesasItakeadeepbreathofmyown.
Andthenshe’spullingmealonglikeapuppydog,struttingherwaythroughtheparkinglotwithawinningsmileonherface.IkeepmyeyeslockedaheadofmeandgrinaswideasIcan.Everything’sablur,butIknowwe’rehavingthedesiredeffect:Peoplearestoppingtowatchus.
“Thefuck?”Ginolaughs.
“Aretheytogether?”somegirlshrieks.
“Sincewhenareyougay,Abraham?”someoneelsecalls.Irenetwitchesreflexively,butshekeepsherheadheldhigh.
Whenwereachtheseniorlockerhall,theeffectismagnified:theshockedwhispersandhissinggossiparealmostenoughtogivemecoldfeet.Withoutmeaningto,IclaspIrene’shandtighter.
Idon’tknowhowshe’shandlingthiswithsuchpoise.Severalpeopleareblatantlygawkingatus.Oneguyhasthenervetosnapourpicture.CharlottePascalactuallystopsinthemiddleofFaceTimingherCandlehawkboyfriendtoturnourwayandsay,“You’refuckingkiddingmerightnow.”
Ireneignoresherandcontinuesthroughthechaoslikeaqueeninafuckingparade.I’vegottohandittoher:Whenshesetshermindtodosomething,shegoesfullthrottle.
It’snotuntilwereachmylocker,allthewayattheendofthehallway,thatIrealizeI’vebeenholdingmybreath.IrelaxmyshouldersandloosenmygriponIrene’shand.Ididn’trealizehowtightlyI’dbeenholdingit.
Daniellewatchesusapproach.Whereaseveryoneelseinourclassseemstobejumpingatthispieceofgossip,Danielle’seyesarenarrowedlikeshejustcaughtTeddysneakingcandy.
“Fascinatingcouple,”shesaysasIrenesteersmetomylocker.
Ireneallbutdropsmysweatyhandandwastesnotimeinwipingherpalmonherskinnyjeans.
“Jesus.Canyougethersomeglovesorsomething?”sheasksDanielle.
“Whatthehellareyoutwodoing?”Daniellesays.
“Youcan’ttell?We’vefallenforeachother,”Irenesays,battinghereyelashesatme.
“Giveitarest,”Itellher.
“Fine.”Sheresumesherusualtone.Nowthatwe’repasttherestofthehallway,hernervesareondisplayagain.“I’llseeyoulater.Oh,andifanyoneasks,whichtheydefinitelywill”—shelowershervoiceandleansclosertome—“youaskedmeout.”
Iscoff.Sheshakesahandthroughherhair,andthenshe’sgone,wadingbackthroughtheseaofonlookers.
ItrytoavoidDanielle’spointedstare,butshemovestoblockmefrommylocker.Shewon’tevenhandmemycoffee.
“Scottie.What.Thefuck.”
“What?”Isayinnocently.“Justtryingsomethingnew.”
“Areyoublackmailingherorsomething?”
“WhydoeseveryoneassumeI’mblackmailing?”
“What’syouranglehere?Doyourealizetheentirehallwaywasstaringatyou?”
Igiveherasmugsmile.“Yes.AndhopefullyTallyhasseentheirStoriesbynow.”
Danielle’sjawdrops.“Seriously,Scottie?God,Iknowyou’reupsetaboutthebreakup,butthisisreallygoingoffthedeepend.DoesIreneevenlikegirls?”
Ipullheraroundthecornersowecantalkmorequietly.“Yes,”Itellherfirmly.IrecounttheconversationIheardbetweenIreneandHoney-Belle,plustheconversationIreneandIhadatthetracks.
“Butyou’redoingallthisjusttomakeTallyjealous?”Daniellewhispers,shakingherhead.
“Comeon,givemesomemorecreditthanthat.”IwhipoutthehomemadeblueberrymuffinIbroughtforherthismorning.Webothknowit’sherfavorite.Shepursesherlipsbutfinallyhandsovermycoffee.
“Tallyisjustthetipoftheiceberg,”Iexplain.“YousaidityourselfthatdrivingIrenebroughtsomuchattentiontoourteam.Didn’tyouseehowwellweplayedwhenshekeptbringingawholecheeringsectiontoourpractices?YouknowmorepeoplewillshowupnowthattheythinkI’mdatingher,especiallyiftheycheeratourgames.It’sexactlytheconfidenceboosterweneed.We’regoingtobeatCandlehawkintheChristmasClassic,andthenwe’regoingtoslaughtertheminthedistrictchampionship.Canyouarguewiththat,Captain?”
Foronce,Danielleisspeechless.I’vegotheronthatone.
WhenIlookbacksomeday,my“comingout”withIrenewillreallybesomethingforthebooks.Forthefirsttimeinmyhighschoolcareer,peoplearestraight-upfawningoverme.Ifeelitbetweenclasses,inthecafeteria,andeveninthebathroom,wheresomerandomfreshmanletsmecutinfrontofherinline.It’slikethesecondhandcelebrityIfeltafterourcaraccident,butmagnifiedtimesathousand.
Nearlyeveryonehassomethingtosayaboutit.TheClevelandtripletscornermeinthelibraryanddemandtoknowhowIaskedIreneout.I’monlyslightlyoffendedthat,justasIrenepredicted,theyassumeIdidtheasking.AfewstraightkidscongratulatemeforhelpingIrenetoacknowledgehersexuality(“Youguysaresobrave”)whilethequeerkidspatmeonthebackforswellingourranks.EvenGinopullsmeasidebeforeeconomicstoadmitIhavemoregamethananyonesuspected.
GuntherandKevinseemwaryofme.Whenourphysicsteachertakesusoutsidetolaunchthecatapultswe’vebeenbuildingthismonth,thetwoofthemmakeashowofexaminingthegrassandtheweatherconditionsbeforetheyfinallyaskmewhat’sgoingon.
“Soyou’rereallygoingoutwithher?”Gunthersays,loadingpeanutsintothecatapult.
“Whyisthatsohardtobelieve?”Iask.IknowIcouldtellthemthetruthifIwantedto,butitseemssafertolimitthesecrettoDanielle.
Gunthershakeshishead.“She’sreallyhot.”
“AndI’mnot?”Ishovehimplayfully,pretendingtheinsinuationdoesn’thurt.IthinkbacktothefewtimesTallytoldmeIwashot.Ineverquitebelievedher.
“Youknowwethinkyou’repretty,”Kevinsays,bendingdowntomakenotesinourlabnotebook.“Butwouldn’titsurpriseyoutohearIwasgoingoutwithher?ThelastpersonIwentoutwithwasNinaBynes.”
NinaBynesisasweetbutdorkygirlwhopullsherbooksaroundinacarry-onsuitcase.Ginoreferstoherastheflightattendant.ForthethreeweeksKevinwentoutwithher,peoplekepttellinghimtobucklehisseatbelt.Ginowouldn’tstopjokingthatKevin’straytablewasup.
“Iknowwhatyoumean.”Isigh,diggingmyshoeintothedirt.“Sheis,asthekidssay,‘outofmyleague.’”
Ikneeldowntotriggerthefirstlaunch.ThesunisblindingandIhavetosquintacrossthesoccerfieldtoaimfortheplastichoopsMrs.Kingsetupinthedistance.
“Ididn’trealizeshewasintogirls,”Gunthersays.“I’dheardthatrumor,butIthoughtitwasjustCharlottePascalstartingshit.”
Ilookupathim.“Wait.Whatrumor?”
“ThatsheandCharlottehateeachotherbecauseIrenemadeamoveonherlastyear.”
I’mdistractedbythissuddendevelopment,butbeforeIcansayanything,Honey-Belleappearsatmyside.
“Hi,Scottie,”shesaysbrightly.“How’smyfavoritegirlfriend-in-law?”
Iblink.“What?”
“Ohcomeon,”shesays,cheesinghard.“Irene’smybestfriend,andnowyou’rehergirlfriend,whichmakesusin-laws.”
IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,Iwouldthinkshewasmessingwithme,butsheseemsentirelyearnest.
“Hi,Honey-Belle,”Gunthersaysinahigh-pitchedvoice.Hischeeksredden.“Youlooknicetoday.”
Shecocksherheadathim.“Thanks,Grover.”
Kevinsnortsunderhisbreath.Guntherglaresathim.
“IwantedtotellyouhowhappyIamforyou,”Honey-Bellecontinues,touchingmyarm.“You’rejustwhatIreneneeds,evenifIdidn’tseeitbefore.Imean,thesexualtensionwasobvious,butIneversensedthetrueaffectionunderneath.”
Istareather,atalossforwords.
“YouandIrenehadthatmuchsexualtension,huh?”Kevinasks,elbowingme.
“Oh,itwasoverflowing,”Honey-Bellesaysseriously.“Sothickyoucouldspreaditlikepeanutbutter.”
“Ithinkmaybeyou’remisinterpreting—”Ibegin.
“Butit’sreallycutetoseeyoutogethernow,”Honey-Belleplowson.“WhenIaskedIreneaboutit,shecouldbarelylookmeintheeye.Sheonlygetslikethatwhenshe’sshy.”
“Right,”Isay.
“Anyway,I’llseeyoulater,Scottie.Bye,Kevin.Bye,Grover.”
Sheskipsaway,leavingKevintolaughatGuntherandme.
Laterthatmorning,Ireceiveasingletextthatvalidatesthiswholedamnthing.
TallyGibson:You’rereallydatingher?
Ifeelsosmuginthatmoment,it’sawonderIcantoleratemyself.I’msmirkingwhenItextherback.
Me:Yeah,so?
Onlyasmall,distantpartofmybrainpaysanythoughttohowIreneishandlingthis.FromwhatIcantell,it’sbenefitingher:Ioverhearsomeoneinthecafeterialinewhisperingthathercomingoutmakesher“morerelatable.”WhenIseeherinSeniorHorizonsthatafternoon,shelooksforalltheworldtobeasregalanduntouchableasever.Sheshootsmeasmilethattoeveryoneelseprobablylooksflirtatious,buttomeseemstosayThisissuchbullshitandthesepeopleareidiotsandImightkillyoubutIhaven’tdecidedyet.
Ismilebackandeventossinawink.Icanalmostfeelherstrainingnottorollhereyes.
WhenIgettopracticethatafternoon,myteammatesgivememoreshitthananyone.“Soyou’vefinallymovedonfromTally?”theyask,andIcanfeelhowit’savictoryforthemasmuchasme.
“Ireneishotteranyway,”Googysays,“butIdon’tknowhowweshouldfeelaboutyoutradingbasketballforcheerleading.Didn’twannastickwithathletes?”
“Cheerleadersareathletes,”Isnap.
“Oooooh,”thegirlssay,tradinglooks.
“EnoughaboutScottie’slovelife,”saysDanielle,whoseemslikeit’stakingeverythinginhernottoblurtoutthetruth.“Weneedtofocus.Let’srunMarshmallow.”
IplaybetterthanIhaveallseason.Danielle’seyesareshiningwhenInailmythirdthree-pointer.Andsureenough,neartheendofpractice,Ireneandadozenothersshowuptowatch.
“You’reasolidactress,”ItellIrenewhenwewalktohercarthatevening.
“Mm,”shesaysdisinterestedly.“WishIcouldsaythesameforyou.”
“What?Myacting’sbeengreat.”
“False.ThatwinkinSeniorHorizonswascompletelyoverthetop.”
“Youlovedit.”
“Yeah,okay,”shesaysdryly.
Whatevershesays,Icantellshe’saspleased—andastired—asIam.Wegetintohercarandflopagainstourheadrests,sighingatthesametime.
“Comingoutisexhausting,”Irenesayssuddenly.
Ilookoverather.Hereyesareglazedandshe’sbreathingslowly.
“Forwhatit’sworth,Ithinkyouhandleditwell,”Isayneutrally.“Wasanyoneadick?”
“Afewpeopleaskedhowyou‘turnedme.’”
“Morons.”
Shestretchesback,yawning.“Ijustwishpeoplecouldbemorecreativewiththeirignorance.”
Ilaughwithoutmeaningto,butIstifleitbyturningitintoacough.“Doesthismeanyouhavetocomeouttoyourparents?”
Sheanswerslikeshe’sswattingafly.“Myparentsalreadyknow.”
“Theydo?”
Sheblinksatme.“Whyisthatsosurprising?Don’tyourparentsknow?”
“Yeah,but…Ididn’trealizeyouwerethisfaralonginyour,youknow,journey.”
“Ahyes,mybigfatgayjourney,”shesayswithfalsereverence.“JustbecauseIdidn’ttellourwholeschool,doesn’tmeanI’mnotopenathome.It’snotjustwhitekidswhocomeouttotheirparents.”
Isetmymouth.“Ididn’tsaythat.”
“Andyetyourearsareturningred,”shesays,eyebrowsraised.
“I’mjustsurprisedbecause…Idon’tknow,yourmom…”
“Hasaconstantstickupherass?”Irenerollsherheadagainsttheheadrest.Inoticethedampbabyhairsatthebackofherneck.“Yeah,she’sapieceofwork,butshe’sagoodperson.ShedonatedtoPFLAGafterIcameout.”
Idon’tknowifI’mpushingmyluck,butItryanyway.“Sowhydoesshehatecheerleading?”
Irene’seyesflickertowardme.ItrytoshowthatI’maskingsincerely,butIdon’tknowifit’sworking.
“Shethinksit’sadeadend,”shesaysfinally.“WhenIfirststartedcheeringbackin,like,fifthgrade,shethoughtitwouldjustbeanotherextracurricular,soshewassupportive.ButthenIgotseriousaboutitandshecouldn’tunderstandwhy.ShewantseverythingIdotoleadtosomethinginmyfuture.”
“Butyouwanttocheerincollege.Doesn’tthatcountasthefuture?”
“Yeah,forfouryears,butthenwhat?Myparentsplaythelonggame.EspeciallyMom.Shewantsmetofocusonacademicsand,like,thingsthatleadtoastablecareer.She’sanoptometrist.Mydad’saresearcherattheCDC.TheybothwenttoGeorgiaTechandtheywantmetogothere,too.”Sheexhalesalongbreath.“Theythinkthey’rewaymoreprogressivethanmygrandparents,butthey’renot.Theirdefinitionofsuccessisprettynarrow.”
“Andyourdefinitionofsuccess?”
Sheside-eyesmeagain.“Youreallythinkyou’reentitledtomypersonalstory,don’tyou?”
Ishrug.Thetruthis,I’mstartingtobuildacompositeportraitofthisgirl,andsomeofthepiecesdon’taddup.“Fine.Don’ttellme.ButIdohavesomethingthatmightbrightenyourmood.”
Shehikeshereyebrows,waiting.Idigthroughmybackpack’sfrontpocketuntilIfindthecheckIwroteoutlastnight.
“Here,”Isay,handingitover.
Shetakesitcarefullyandstudiesthepaper.Itrynottothinkaboutwhatitrepresents:$1,000ofmyhard-earnedmoney.Hoursandhoursofscrapinggumofftheaterseatsandpouringsodasforpreteens.
Butontheotherhand,it’smytickettoensuringwebeatCandlehawk.
“Yoursignatureisatrocious,”Irenesays.“ThisSlookslikeabowlingpin.”
Iignorethejibe.“You’regoodtodepositthatwhenever.Just,youknow.Keepgoodonyourword.”
Shelooksatmeseriously.“Ialwaysdo.”
“Thenwehavenothingtoworryabout,dowe?”
Irenesighsandtucksthecheckintohersweatshirtpocket.“Let’sgetthefuckoutofhere,”shesays,andshedrivesmehome.
8
Halloweenpassesinablurofcandycornandcostumes.MyfriendsandIcelebrateattheChuckMunny,wherethey’reshowingHocusPocusonthebigscreenforthree-dollaradmission.IsecretlyhopewemightrunintoTally—shealwayslovedtheMunnyandwouldhangoutwithmeattheconcessionstandwhileIworkedonslowdays—butwhenIcheckherInstagram,she’spostingfromahauntedhousewithhernewfriends.
Myfamilylearnsofmynew“relationship”onthefirstnightofNovember.MomandDadandIaregettingreadyforcollegescholarshipnight,aboringinfodumphostedbytheschoolguidancedepartment,whenThorathrowsagrenadeintothemix.
“Collegenightisforalltheseniors,right?”shesays,eventhoughshealreadyknowstheanswer.“Iguessthatmeansyou’llmeetScottie’snewgirlfriend.”
DadfreezesintheactofpullingonhisCrocs.Momstopslintrollingthecathairoffherjacket.
“Girlfriend?”theysayatthesametime.
IglareatThora,butthedamageisdone.IexplainassparinglyasIcan,buttheymanagetowrangleIrene’sname,description,andpracticallyherstarsignfromme.
“Butthisisthegirlyougotinthecaraccidentwith!”Momsays,beaming.“Andyousaidyoudidn’tlikeher…Nowhowaboutthatforlifeplayingajokeonyou!”
“It’sliketheysay,Scots,”Dadchimesin.“Beautifulthingscangrowoutofshit.”
“Buck,don’tsay‘shit’infrontofthegirls,”Momsays,glancingatDaphne.
“Mom,I’minseventhgrade,”Daphnesaysexasperatedly.“TodayIheardoneofmyteacherssay‘shit.’”
“What?Why?”
“HewastalkingaboutCandlehawk.”
“Oh,well,that’sdifferent.”
“Comeon,we’regonnabelate,”Dadsays.“IwanttomeetScottie’snewamour!”
“Arewesurewe’rehappyaboutthis?”Thoraasks.“I’mconcernedScottiemightbesufferingfromStockholmsyndrome.”
“LikeSweden?”Daphnesays.
“No,likeBeautyandtheBeast.Scottieisinlovewithhercaptor.”
“Oh,Thora,don’tbeasassmonster,”Momsays,swattingher.ShesteersmetowardthedoorandIshootonelastscowlatmysister.Hertimingcouldnothavebeenworse.Istilldon’thavemycarback,whichmeansI’llhavetoridewithMom,Dad,andtheirincessantquestions.
IfindDanielleandMrs.Zanderassoonasweentertheschoolauditorium.“HelpmekeepthemawayfromIrene,”Iwhisperundercoveroftheparentstalking.“Thoraspilledthebeans.”
Daniellerollshereyesbutfindsusarowtowardthetopoftheauditorium,sequesteredawayfrommostoftheseniorclassandtheirparents.MomandDadmakejovialconversationwithMrs.Zander,buttheireyeskeepwanderingoverthenewcomersliketheyexpectIrenetoappearatmysideanymoment.
Thankfully,shedoesn’t.I’mnotevensureshe’sthereuntilIspotHoney-Belle’sbrightblondbraidsinthemiddleoftheauditorium.Ireneisseatednexttoher,whisperingintoherear,bothherparentstuckedintotheseatsnexttoher.
Theinfosessiontakesaboutforty-fiveminutes.IbasicallyhearwhatIalreadyknow:thatmyplantoattendGeorgiaStateUniversitywilldefinitelymakemeeligibleforin-statescholarships.Iprettymuchzoneoutafterthat,butwhentheguidancecounselorstouchonathleticscholarships,IwatchIrenestraighteninherchair.Iwonderifhermomnotices.IwonderifhermomevenknowsIrenewantstocheerincollege.
Theywrapupthesessionwithanaudienceraffle.WedothesealotinGrandmaEarl,alwaysofferinglocaltreatslikeacoffeemugfromSweetNoelle’sorapackoftoothbrushesfromHermeyOrthodontics.InCandlehawktheyraffleoffiPads,stockmarketshares,anddinnerwiththemayor.OnetimetheygaveawayaFrenchbulldog.
Whenthesessionfinallyends,I’moutofmyseatbeforethelightscomeon.“Timetogo!”Isaybrightly,shooingmyparentsalong.
“Butyourgirlfriend!”Momsays.
Mrs.Zandergasps.“Scottiehasanewgirlfriend?”
Ittakeseverythinginmenottoface-palm.Daniellelooksresigned,butshesavesme.“We’llmeetIrenenexttime,guys.Ithinkshewas—um—sicktoday?”
“Aw,whatawaste,”mydadsays.“I’vebeenstoringupsomuchEmbarrassingDadEnergy.”
DanielleandImoveourparentsalong,butthey’restillcastinglooksovertheirshoulders;evenMrs.Zanderhasjoinedinwiththenosiness.WespillintothelobbywiththehordesofotherEarlians.AndjustwhenIthinkwe’reabouttobefree—
Dr.Abrahamwalksstraightintous.
“Ancy!”Momtrills.
“Wanda!”Irene’smomsays.
Ofcoursetheyrememberedeachother’sfuckingnames.Andnowthey’rehugging
“Thisismyhusband—”Momsays.
“Andthisismyhusband—”Dr.Abrahamsays,pullingIrene’sdadoutofnowhere.
“AndthisisourdearfriendHarmonyZander,Danielle’smom—”
TheonlygoodthingisthatIreneisnowheretobefound.MaybeshewentoffwithHoney-Bellesomewhere.Maybeshe’salreadyleftinherowncar—
“Ohforfuck’ssake,”avoicemuttersnexttome.
Yeah.Ireneisstillhere.
“Whydidn’tyoukeepthemmoving?”shesays,grittingherteeth.Ishouldhavenoticedshe’dwalkedupnexttome.Hercedarperfumeisgettingtoofamiliar
“Keepthemmoving?”Imock.“I’mnotwalkingapackofdogs,Abraham.”
“Ohgirls!”themomssqueal.“Lookatyoutogether!”
There’snothingtodobutsmileandpretendtobethrilledwiththisfamilyintroduction.MomandDadbeamatIrene;Irene’sparentsbeamatme.Mrs.Zanderliterallyclaps.Daniellehidesherlaughterbehindherhand.
“Let’sgetyourpicturetogether,”Irene’sdadsays,pullingouthisphone.He’sslenderandspeakswithanaccent.HehasIrene’smouth.
“Oh,wedon’tneedto—”Istart.
“No,Dad,we’refine—”Irenetries.
Butofcoursetheparentshavetheirway.Therearesuddenlyfivephonestrainedonus,becauseevenMrs.Zanderisgettinginonthemix.
“Whyareyoustandingsostiffly?”Irene’smomchides.“Hugeachother!Dosomething!”
IreneandItradelooks.
“Um,we’renotreallyintoPDA,”Isay.
“Yeah,we’renothuggers.It’ssotacky,”Ireneadds.
“Really?”Daniellesays.Irecognizethetwinkleinhereyes:She’sabouttohavesomefun.“ButIseeyouhugallthetime.Ilovewatchingyouhug.It’slikealltheloveintheuniversecomingtogether.”
I’mreadytothrottleher.
“Comeon,”mymomsays.“Justonelittlehugandwe’llleaveyoualone.”
Andthat’showIreneandIendupwithourarmsaroundeachother,forcingsmilesforthecameras.Hershoulderiswarm.Herhairticklesmyface.Ifindmyselfholdingmybreath.
“Oh!Don’tmove!”anothervoiceshoutsatus.“It’sforthenewspaper!”
ThegoddamnClevelandtripletshavewalkedintoourpictureparty.Nowallthreeofthemaresnappingphotosthatwillnodoubtenduponsocialmedia.
Butmaybethatwouldn’tbesobad,Ithink,becauseTallywillseethem.
“Okay,that’senough,”Irenesays,releasingme.“Itwaslovelyrunningintoyouall,butIhaveto,um,finishmySeniorHorizonshomework.”
“Same,”Isay.
Andwiththat,webolt.
MomandDadarepredictablyeageronthedrivehome.Theywon’tstoptalkingaboutwhatacutecouplewemake.TheyspendasmuchtimetalkingaboutIreneastheydoabouttheactualcollegesession.
“It’sgoodtoseeyouwithsomeonewhodeservesyou,Scottie,”Momsays.Shereachesbehindthepassengerseatandsqueezesmyhand.“Ilikehowgenuinethatgirlis.”
Isnortwithoutmeaningto.ButifIthinkaboutit,IguessMomisright.Irenehasneverbeenanythingbutherself.
Ifinallygetmycarbackthatweekend,thankGod.It’saloteasierpretendingtodatemynemesiswhenwedon’thavetospendeverymorningandeveningtrappedinaspeedingmetalboxtogether.
OurfirstregularseasongametakesplaceinearlyNovember.Danielleworksushardatpractice,andIworkmyselfevenharderathome,refiningmyshotsinthedrivewayeachnight.Googyleadsthechargetomakeposterspublicizingthegamebutisforcedtotakehersdownaftershepaintsapairofbasketballsinsideabra.
Nevertheless,wordgetsout:There’sasuddenbuzzaboutthegirls’basketballteambecauseofmyrelationshipwithIrene.Whensheunilaterallychangesthecheerleadingschedulesothesquadwillcheerforourgamesinsteadoftheboys’,thebuzzonlyincreasesfurther.Tosealthedeal,Igivehermyteampicturebuttonbeforeschoolonemorning.
“Youactuallyexpectmetowearthis?”sheasks,regardingmybuttonlikeit’sthemostheinousthingshe’severseen.“It’sjustsocorny.”
“God,primadonna,justwearitonyourbackpack.It’llmakeyouawalkingadvertisementformyteam.”
Thebuttonhasthedesiredeffect:Ontheeveningofourfirsthomegame,thebleachersarepackedwithstudentsandfans.It’sthelargestcrowdwe’veeverdrawn—maybetheonlythingthatcountsasacrowdatall.Whenmyteammatespeekthroughthelockerroomdoor,theyreturnwithradiantexpressionsontheirfaces.TheonlyoneputoffbytheshowofsupportisDanielle.
“Ican’tplaywithallthosepeoplewatchingme,”shesaysnervously.Shestartstodisappearintoherself,sinkingintothelockerroombench,almostlikeshe’sgoingintoDanielleVision.“Somanypeople.Somanyeyes.”
“You’llbegreat,”Iassureher.“You’vebeenkillingitatpracticewithpeoplewatching.”
“That’s,like,twelvepeople,”shesays,staringatthelockers.“Thisisourwholegrade.”
“Hey.”Ishakehershoulder.“Idon’tmeantobeinsensitive,butbuckup.Eitheryouwantustobedynamite—whichmeansmorepeoplecheeringforus—oryouwantustosuck.Youcan’thaveitbothways.”
Sheswallowsandletsmepullheroffthebench.“Fine.Just—don’tlettheannouncercallmyname.”
“Iliterallyhavenocontroloverthat,”Isay,laughingather.
“Shhh,”shesays,walkingtothedoorrobotically.
Whenourteamrunsontothecourt,there’sahugeroarfromthecrowd.Ifindmyselfblushinginagoodway.Ireneandhersquadarestationedatthesidelines,workingtheirmagic.Ialmostwishshewouldturnaroundandthrowmeaknowingsmirk.
Googywinsthetip-off,andtheballlandsinmyhands,andbeforeIknowit,I’msailingdownthecourtlikeIownthedamnthing.Beforetheotherteamhastimetofinalizetheirdefensiveformation,Ipasstheballtooneofouropenforwards,whosinksaneasyjumpshot.
Thecrowdcheers.Ihigh-fiveaslightlylessnervousDanielle,andasweruntotheothersideofthecourttoplaydefense,Ican’thelpgrinning.
Wewinthatfirstgame,andthenoursecondgamethefollowingweek,andsomehowweenduprollingintoanundefeatedseason.Novemberbecomesaflurryofpractice-practice-game,practice-practice-game,andI’mhighontherhythmofit,thesweetexhaustionIfeelaftereachpractice,thecrisp,brightaironmycheekswhenIreneandIbreakoutofthegymeveryevening.
Afewweeksintotheseason—andmynew“relationship”—IgetwordofanopportunityI’vebeenitchingfor.
“CharlottePascal’shouse,”Gunthersaysabruptlywhenweplopdownforlunch.“Haveyouheard?”
“No?”
“It’sallanyone’stalkingabout.She’sthrowingapartyoverThanksgivingbreak.”
“So?”Danielleasks.
“SoIthinkweshouldgo,”Gunthersaysbracingly.“I’minthemoodforanother‘seniorfundraiser’tolivenupmysocialscene.”
DaniellehalfturnstoKevin.“Whatdoyouthink?Areyougonnago?”
“Yeah,whynot?”Kevinsays,shrugging.“It’ssomethingnew.TheonlyotherpartyI’vebeentowaswithbandkidsanditwas…underwhelming.”
“IheardCharlotte’sstilldatingthatCandlehawkbro,”Gunthersaysthroughamouthfulofsandwich.“Honey-Bellewastellingmeaboutit.”
Istudyhim.“SincewhendoyouandHoney-Belletalk?”
“Wetalksometimes,”Gunthersays,hisvoicehigh-pitched.
“DoesshestillthinkyournameisGrover?”Kevinasks.
Guntherignoreshim.“Shesaidtheguy’satotaltoolbag.HetoldCharlottehe’donlycometoherpartyifsheinvitedhisCandlehawkclassmates,too.”
Myearsperkup.“AllhisCandlehawkclassmates?”
“Whydoesthat—”Daniellestartstosay,butthenshestops.Herexpressiondarkens.“Scottie,no.”
“What?”Kevinasks.
Iscratchthebackofmyneck,tryingtoseemcasual.“Iwasjustwondering.”
“She’swonderingwhetherTallywillbethere.”
“What?Why?”Gunthersays,lickingthemustardatthecornerofhismouth.“You’redatingIrenenow.”
“Yeah,Iknow,I’mjustconsideringwhethershewouldbethere,”Isaycarefully.“Imean,I’mnotabovemakingherjealous.”
KevinsnortsintohisGatorade.Daniellesqueezeshereyesshutlikeshe’sprayingforpatience.Idon’tcare;Ihaveanewmission.
IfindIreneafterlunch.“Hey,”Isay,leaningupagainstherlocker.“DidyouhearaboutCharlotte’sparty?”
Hereyesturnstormy.“Whataboutit?”
“It’snextweekend,oncebreakstarts.”Ilowermyvoice.“Ourfirstpublicoutingtogether.”
“I’mnotgoingtoCharlotte’sparty,”Irenesays,slammingherlocker.
Ifollowherasshestalksoff,grabbingholdofherbackpacktoslowherdown.Mybasketballbuttonstaresupatme.“Um?Whynot?”
“BecauseIdespiseher.Whichyoualreadyknow.Everyoneknows.”
“Candlehawkpeoplewillbethere,”Iinsist.“Tallywillbethere.”
“Whocares?WecanflauntoursexyrelationshipinfrontofherattheCandlehawkgame.Ithoughtthatwasyourgoal.”
“No,”Isay,gettingheatednow.“Weagreedthiswaspartofthedeal:YouhelpingmemakeTallyjealous.”
IrenespinsaroundbytheLanguageHall.Shepullsmeintoaroomtwodoorsdown.
“Thisisateachers’lounge,”Isayasshesnapsthedoorshut.
“Onlythelanguageteachersuseit,andtheyallhavethirdblockclasses.”
Isquintather.“You’vecomeinherebefore?”
Sheignoresthequestion.“I’mnotgoingtoCharlotte’shouse.”
“Youdon’thavetotalktoher,”Isayimpatiently.“ForGod’ssake,there’llbeamillionpeoplethere.YoucanhangwithmeandDanielleandHoney-Belle.”
Irenelooksreadytoincineratemewithherstare.“Don’tpushmeonthis,Zajac.”
“What’syourproblemwithCharlotte,anyway?”Iask,eventhoughIknowtherumorfromGunther.
Hereyesflash.“That’snoneofyourbusiness.You’renotentitledtoknoworunderstandhowIfeelaboutpeople.”
Istraightenmyback,keepingmyeyeshardonher.“Thiswaspartofthedeal.”
Irenestandstall,holdingherground.“Ifyoucan’tbendonthisonething,thedealisoff.Youdon’tgettotreatmelikesomeescortforhire.IunderstandthattoyouI’mjustsome‘hotgirl’withsocialcapital,andforthemostpart,I’veletyougetawaywiththat,butthisistoofar.I’mapersonwithfeelingsandboundaries.Getyourheadoutofyourassandrespectthat,orwe’redone.”
Shewrenchesthedooropenandsweepsoutoftheroom,andI’mleftstandinginherwake,completelydazed.
IreneandIgiveeachotherawideberthafterthat.Wehardlyacknowledgeeachotherandshestopscomingtomypractices,promptingtheClevelandtripletstogrillmeaboutour“troubleinparadise.”
TheweekleadingintoThanksgivingbreakarriveswithaflurryoftestsandprojectdeadlines.Rainlashesdown,darkeningtheskyoutsideourschoolwindows,andtheancienttreebehindthelibraryisstrippedofitsvibrantredleaves.It’sourfirstglimpseofwinterbranches,bareandclawlike.
TheThursdaybeforebreakstarts,we’reinScuttlebaum’sclass,whilingawaytheminutesastherainpeltsagainstthewindow.Danielleissketchingnewbasketballplaysonthecornerofhernotebook.Gino’sontheoppositesideoftheroom,flickingpaperfootballseverytimeScuttlebaumturnsherback.Ireneissittingwithherheadinherhand,pickingathernailpolishandstaunchlyavoidingmyeyes.
Scuttlebaumisprattlingonaboutherfavoriteshow,TheMaskedSinger,whensheabruptlyswitchesgearsandgrabsastackofpapersoffherdesk.“I’vegotyourhomeworkgraded,”sheannounces.“Scottie,here.”
ScuttlebaumneversaysPleasepasstheseout.ShejustgesturesvaguelyandsaysHere
Itakethestackofpapersobliginglyandstarttopassthemaroundtheroom.That’swhenInoticeCharlottePascaltradinganotewithherfriendSymphonyDavis.They’rescrawlingfuriouslybackandforth.
JustwhenI’mabouttodeliverthelastpiecesofhomework,there’saruckusasScuttlebaumconfiscatesCharlotteandSymphony’snote.
“Sendingnotes,Ms.Pascal?”Shestandsimperiouslyatthefrontoftheroom.“Hmph.Let’sseewhat’ssointerestingthatitcouldn’twaituntilclassends…”
Shenarrowsherbeadyeyesandwheezesintoreading.IstopwhereIstand,thelasttwohomeworkpiecesinmyhand.
“Ifshethinksshe’llevensetfootonmyproperty,she’sdelusional,”Scuttlebaumstarts,hervoicegrating.Myclassmatesshiftintheirseats;everyonecantellthisisgonnabegood.
ScuttlebaumchangeshervoicetoindicateSymphony’sreply.“Butyousaideveryone’sinvitedtothisparty.”
“Notapredatorybitchlikeher.”
Everyonegasps,wide-eyedwithglee.There’sarumbleofOooooharoundtheroom.
“Whywouldyousaysomethingsocrass?”ScuttlebaumscoldsCharlotte,butshecontinuesreading.
“Girl,jeeze,L-O-Lwhatdidsheevendotoyou?”
Myinstinctaboutthe“bitch”they’retalkingaboutgrowsclearer.Ican’thelpbutnoticeIrene’sfacedarkeningontheoppositesideoftheroom.
“Ugh,Idon’tevenwannatalkaboutit.Wewereatthatpartylastyearandshestarted—”
There’sacollectiveanticipationintheroom;itseemslikeeveryonehasfiguredoutwhoCharlotte’snoteisabout.Somethingwe’veallbeenwonderingformonthsisabouttoberevealed—andthelookonIrene’sfaceisoneofterror.
Scuttlebaumopenshermouthagain,andmyheartdrillsinmychest,andthen—
Inaflash,someonesnatchesthepaperoutofScuttlebaum’shand.
Andthatsomeoneisme
Beforeanyonecanregisterwhathappened,Ispitmygumintothenoteandcrumpleitupinmyhand.Ilobitintothetrashcanwithacrisp,cleanshot.TheroomgoessoquietIcanhearsomeonecrackingtheirknucklesnervously.
Scuttlebaum’seyesarepopping.IfeellikeI’mstaringdownabasilisk.IdotheonlythingIcanthinkof:shrugandbackawayfromher,actinglikeI’vejustdonethemostinnocentthingonearth.
“Goodtiming,”Isaycasually.“Thatgumjustlostitsflavor.”
There’sanoutbreakofgaspingandgiggling.Icollapseintomyseat,withScuttlebaumglaringatmelikeatomato-faceddemon.
“Detention,Ms.Zajac,”shesnarls.“Howabouttomorrow,justtodelayyourbreakfromstarting?”
Idon’tcareaboutthepunishment,eventhoughDaniellewillbeonmyassaboutmissingpractice.Everyoneisstaringatme,andIknowmyfaceisflamingred,buttheonlypersonImanagetoconnectwithisIrene.
Shestaresacrosstheroomatmewiththemostcuriousexpressiononherface.Iholdhereyesforamoment,thenlookdownatmyhomework,perfectlygradedwithanA+ontop.
BythetimeIfinishpracticethatday,theentireseniorclassseemstohaveheardaboutmywildlystupidgesture.Arecordnumberofpeopleshowuptowatchtheendofourpractice,andIcan’tfigureoutwhyuntilIseethatIreneisbackintheirranks.Danielle,whohasbarelyspokentomesincepracticestarted,looksresentfullydelighted.
IreneapproacheswhenI’myankingoffmyanklebraces.Icanfeeleveryeyeinthegymonus.Idon’tlookupuntilthelastsecond.
Herdarkhairisinitsusualhighponytail,hertanktopsoakedwithsweat,herbicepsswellingtheslightestbit.
“Theythinkwe’regoingtohavesomedramaticreconciliation,”shetellsme.
“Gross.”
Wehoveronthespot.ThenIrenesays,“Letmewalkyoutoyourcar.”
Weleaveournosyclassmatesbehindandmakeourwayouttotheparkinglot.Webusyourselveswithzippingupourjacketsandchuggingourwaterbottles.It’snotuntilwe’restandingbymycarthatIrenespeaks.
“Youdidn’thavetodothat,Scottie.”
It’sthefirsttimeshe’ssaidmyactualname,andIfeelitlikeasuddenwarmthinmychest.Ihavetolookawayfromhereyes.“Trustme,Ididn’tplanto.”
Sheclearsherthroat.“Isshereallygonnamakeyoustaylatetomorrow?”
“Itwon’tbetoobad.Shewantsmetodeep-cleanherwhiteboard.”
“Iusedtolovedoingthat.Thesmellofthatcleaningspray.”
Wefallsilent.Theairiscrisp,cold,clean.ThemarqueeacrossthewayreadsHAPPYWANKSGIVING
“WhatwouldIhavetodoatCharlotte’s?”Ireneasks.
Ilaughthroughmynose.“AreyouaskingbecauseIprovedmyselftoyou,orbecausehernastynotesaidyoucouldn’tcome?”
Hermouthtwitches.“Both.”
“God,you’restubborn.”
“Andyou’renot?”
Irollmyeyes.“Wewouldn’tbeatCharlotte’slong.We’djust‘makeanappearance,’hangwithourfriends,makesureTallygotagoodlook.”
Ireneshiftsherduffelbag,watchingme.“Youreallythinkshe’sworthallthiseffort?”
Ichewmybottomlip.“Iknowit’spetty.”
“Yeah,”sheagrees,butnotlikeshe’sjudgingme.There’sasilenceuntilshespeaksagain.Icantellbyherexpressionthatshe’sgoingtorelent.“IfwegetthereandIsayweneedtoleave,weleave.Noquestionsasked.”
“Deal.”Istickoutmyhandforhertoshake.
Shequirksaneyebrow.Weclasphandsforabrief,firmmoment.It’sweirdthatherhandsarestartingtofeelfamiliar.
“Seeyoutomorrow,asshole,”shesays,turningonthespot.
“I’llsendyoualoveletterfromdetention,”Icallafterher.
9
ThestartofThanksgivingbreakmeansnoschoolbutextrabasketballpractice.Idon’tmind;I’msoampedattheprospectofdestroyingCandlehawkinafewweeks—especiallyafterTallyseesmewithIrenethisweekend—thatIpracticeharderthanever,gettingtothegymearlierandstayinglaterthanmyteammates.
DaphneandIspendourdowntimeinthebeginningoftheweekwatchingmovies.Thorajoinsusasoftenasshecan,butTheChimneyisbusierthanusualwiththeholiday,soshe’sswampedwithshifts.Ononeofthemorningsshehasoff,thethreeofusdrivetotheChuckMunnytocatchadoublefeatureofCluelessandNeverBeenKissed.Whenweleavethetheater,IhaveatextfromIrene.
IreneAbraham:Planningmyoutfitfortheparty.Wearingred.Donotmatchme.
Ican’thelpbutlaugh.
OnThanksgivingDay,wefeastonourusualturkey,stuffing,andcranberries.Thorabringsleftovermeadfromtherestaurantandmyparentsactuallyletmetrysome.Daphnesulksandtakesextrahelpingsofpumpkinpie.
“Thisblows,”Daphnesays,stabbingherforkintoherpie.
“Don’tsaythatword,”Momsays.
ThoratakesadvantageofthedistractiontosneakbitsofturkeytoPicklesandBooBoo.Dadtotallynoticesbutpretendsnotto.Afterwefinishthedishes,wefloponthecouchesandwatchaquietshowaboutAlaskanfishermen.It’sperfect.
“Scottie,we’vebeenmeaningtotellyou,”Dadsaysduringacommercial.“We’resoproudofyouformovingonfromTally.You’regivingyouralltobasketballandyournewrelationship.It’sareallessoninresilience.”
Momstrokesmyhairbackfrommyforehead.“Wealwaysknewyou’dbounceback.”
Imakeajoketodeflecttheirpraise.I’mcarefulnottocatchmysisters’eyes;they’dseerightthroughme.IfeelatwitchofshameknowingthatI’mgoingtobedanglingmyfakerelationshipoverTallyonSaturdaynight,butIshutthatfeelingdown.I’veworkedtoohardtogettothispoint.
IfyouhadtoldmeamonthagothatI’dberollingintoCharlottePascal’spartywithacrewcomprisedofIrene,Honey-Belle,andDanielle,Iwouldhavelaughedinyourface.
Andyethereweare.
“Youoweme,”Irenesaysaswetraipseupthefrontwalk.ShewhispersitclosetomyearsoHoney-Bellewon’thear.Partofmewishesshewouldjusttellheraboutourarrangement.
“Oweyou?”Iaskwithademuresmile.“Hardly.Didyouforgetyou’redoingthisbecauseIimpressedyouwithmybig,chivalrous,note-stealinggesture?”
“Yeah,sogallant,”shesaysdryly.
Charlotte’shouseiswildwhenwewalkin.TherearepeopleeverywherewithSolocups,makingnoiseandposingforpictures.GuntherandKevinstandagainstthefoyerwall,watchingeveryonelikethey’renotsurewhattodowiththemselves.They’rebothdressedup—atleast,theirversionofdressingup.GuntheriswearinghisbestgraphicteeandKevinhasamilitary-stylejacketoverhisusualhoodie.
“Wejustcamefromdinner,”Kevinsays,huggingushello.HesqueezesDaniellearoundthemiddleandshegoesexceptionallyquiet.“PartridgePizza.”
“Broughtsomeleftoversifyouwantthem,”Gunthersays,passingaboxtowardus.“Theyhavethebestgarlicsticks.”
“Thanks,”Isay,reachingforthebox,butKevinholdsuphishand.
“Youmightwannacheckthisguy’sbreathfirst,”hesayswithagrimace.
“It’snotthatbad,”Gunthersays,butnowthatI’mclosertohim,Icandefinitelysmellastrong,funkygarlicsmell.
“Ohwoof,that’sbad.”
“Toldyou,”Kevinsays.“Dudeputrawgarlicbitsonthere.”
Irenewatchesthisinteractionwithhernosewrinkled.WhenIturnawayfromthegarlicsticksbox,shegrabsmyelbow.“Thankyou.Iwouldhaverefusedtotalktoyouallnight.”
“Well,asitis,darling,maybeyoucanescortmetothekitchen.”
“Thewaytheyflirtissocute,”Honey-BellewhisperstoDanielle.
“Icompletelyagree,”Gunthersays,standingasclosetoHoney-Belleaspossiblewhilekeepinghishandoverhismouth.
Irenestartstoheadforthekitchen,butIholdherback.
“What?”shewhispers.
“Youneedtoholdmyhand.We’reheretosellthistoTally,remember?”
“God,you’reapsycho,”shesays,butshetakesmyhandanyway.
Wemakeourwaythroughthethrongofpeople,allofwhomstareatIreneandthenatme.Bythetimewereachthecenterofthehouse,myheartistrilling,expectingTally’sfacetoappearanymoment.Iscantheroomoutofthecornerofmyeye,butIdon’tseeheranywhere.
“Well?”Ireneprods.
“She’llshowup.Let’sgetadrink.”
It’shotandcrowdedinthekitchen,buttheseaofpeoplepartsforusuntilwefindtheislandwiththedrinksstationedonit.Igrabthevodkaandlemonadetomixmyselfadrink.
“Whatdoyouwant?”IaskIrene.
“Water.”
“Ha,ha.I’llmakeyouoneofthese.”
“No,Ijusttoldyou.Water.”
Shebuttsmeaside,grabsaSolocup,andfillsitfromthesink.Shesticksalimewedgeontherimofthecupsoitlookslikeamixeddrink.
“What?”shesays,seeingmyexpression.“DoyouthinkIwantpeoplegivingmeshitfornotdrinking?”
Ishakemyhead.Thisgirlneverceasestosurpriseme.It’sawelcomedistractionfromworryingaboutTally.
“SoDanielletotallyhasacrushonKevin,”Irenesays.
Myheartstops.“What?Noshedoesn’t.”
“Please.It’svisiblefromamileaway.”
“That’s—it’snot—”
Shequirksaneyebrow.
“Fine,”Igrumble.“Butkeepyourmouthshutaboutit.”
“WhoamIgonnatell?Besides,IlikeDanielle.”
I’mabouttorespondwhenherfacechanges.Hereyeswiden,herbreathstops.“Shit,”shesays,lookingovermyshoulder.Itrytoturn,butsheplantsahandonmyarm.
“What?”Isay,wrenchingfreeofhergrasp.
Ispinaround.Myeyesfindthestonerspassingajoint,thesoccergirlsflirtingwiththebaseballplayers,thekidthrowingupinthecorner,and—
Tally.
Inthemiddleoftheroom.
Makingoutwithanothergirl.
Alltheairissuckedoutofmylungs.Itfeelslikemyheart’sbeenflattenedbyaslabofconcrete.
It’sagirlI’veneverseenbefore,soshemustnotgotoGrandmaEarl.ProbablyaCandlehawkgirl,basedonthewayshe’sdressed.Andshe’spretty.Tallyiskissingherwithsomuchenthusiasmit’salmostlikeshe’stryingtoeather.Everythinginsidemesearswithpain.
There’sawarmhandonmyshoulder.
“Stopwatching,”Irenesays,pressingfirmlyuntilshecanspinmearound.
“ButI—”
“No,Scottie,”shesays,holdingmeinplace.Hervoiceissofterthanusual.“Don’ttortureyourself.”
Wemakeeyecontact.Sheactuallylooksconcerned,butIdon’thavetheemotionalbandwidthtocare.Islipfreeofhergraspandhurrytothebackpatio.
Atthelastsecond,whenIclosethedoor,IlookbacktoseeTallywatchingme.
I’mnotsurehowlongIsittherefor.It’ssocoldthatI’llhavetogoinsidesoon,butmyheartisachingandIdon’tknowhowtomakeitstop.
Shouldn’tIhaveexpectedthis?Imean,I’vebeenpretendingtomoveon,butwhywouldn’tTallyactuallymoveon?Isshedatingthatgirl,ormerelyhookingupwithher?Isshekissinglotsofprettygirlsatparties?
Thebackdoorsnapsopenbehindme.Irenestandsthere,fiddlingwiththelongnecklacethathangsoverherscarletsweater.Shepursesherlipslikeshe’stryingtodecidesomething.
“Don’ttellmeyou’vecometogloat,”Imumble.“I’vealreadyrealizedmyplanhasbackfired.Idon’tneedyoutorubitin.”
Shesitsnexttome,kickingherwedgebootsagainstthesteps.“It’strulyheartwarminghowyoualwaysexpectthebestfromme.”
“Soyou’renotheretogloat?”
“I’mheretotellyouthatyourex-girlfriendlookslikeaterriblekisser,andtheonlypersonIfeelsorryforisthatpoorgirlwhosefaceshewaschewingon.Seriously,thatwasheinous.Didyouevenlikekissingher?”
I’mnotsurewhyIanswer.“IthoughtIdid.”
“Itsucksyouhadtoseethat.Shecouldhavedonethatsomewhereprivate.Sheknowsyou’rehere.”
Idropmyheadintomyhands,tuggingattherootsofmyhair.“Shewaswatchingmeformyreaction.”
“Iknow.Isawher.”
“Thorathinksshe’smanipulative,”Iadmit.
“Noshit.It’salmostlikeshegetsoffonitorsomething.”Shesnortsderisively,soundingmorelikeherselfagain.“Fuckingweirdo.”
Withoutmeaningto,Ilaugh.
“Tobefair,though,”Irenesays,andhervoicechangestosomethingmoreserious,“youweretryingtomanipulateher,too.Shejustgottherefirst.”
Iglareather.“Soyouaregloating.”
“No.I’mtryingtopointoutthatthiscompetitionisn’tgoingtomakeyouhappy.”
“Sincewhendoyoucareaboutmyhappiness?”
“Don’tbesuchavictim,Zajac.I’vebeenplayingthisgirlfriendrolewithyouforamonthnow.I’mallowedtomakeobservations.”
Iexhaleandturnawayfromher.Ican’tevenbegintoconsiderwhetherthis“competition”isstillworthit;I’mintoodeepnow.ButI’veclearlyunderestimatedTally.Itdoesn’tmatterhowcarefullyIsetupmyshot:Shewillalwayshitthebasketfirst.
“ItmightcheeryouuptoknowthatTallyiseitherreallydrunkorreallyhigh,orpotentiallyboth,”Irenesays.“Shehadhergrubbypawsoneverythinginthekitchen.Literallypushedmeoutofthewaytograbthetortillachips.”
“So?”
“Somaybeshedoesn’tevenlikethatgirl.She’sjustmesseduprightnow.”
“Yeah.Maybe.”
Irenewatchesmeoutofthecornerofhereye.Icanfeelherpiercingstare.Partofmewishesshewouldstop.Theotherpartisjustgratefultohavesomeoneoutherewithme.
Irenetakesalongsipofherwater.We’rebothquiet.Theairisbiting.
“Let’smesswithher,”Irenedeclares.
Ilookoverather.“What?”
Hereyesarenarrowed.There’sagleaminthem.“Yeah,”shesays,moretoherselfthantome.“I’vegotanidea.”
Inside,wefindmyfriendshoveringinthehallway.Irenewastesnotimeinmarchinguptothem.
“Gunther,”shesays,andhefreezes.“Wheredidyouputthosegarlicsticks?”
Hepointswordlesslytothepileofjacketsinthecorner.ThePartridgeboxsitsontopofthem.Ireneopensit,wrinkleshernose,andwalksaway.
“Whatisshe—?”Guntherstammers.
Wefollowheraroundthecorner,backintothekitchen.JustasIrenesaid,Tallyisstandingthere,munchingawayonabagofpretzels.Hereyesareglazedover,butshelooksupwhenIreneenterswiththegarlicsticks.
“Whatarethose?”Tallyblurtsout.
Ireneturnstoher,feigningsurprise.“Garlicsticks.Why?”
Tally’seyeslightup.“CanIhavesome?”
Irenesetstheboxonthecounterandstepsinfrontofitlikealionessguardingherpack.“No,Idon’tthinkso,”shesayswithfakesweetness.“They’renotmine.Idon’tknowifI’mallowedtogivethemout.”
IknowTallywellenoughtounderstandwhatadeliciouschallengethisisforher.Notonlybecausesomeoneistryingtodepriveherofsomething,butbecausethatsomeoneisapopulargirlshe’sresentedforalongtime.
“Really,”Tallysaysdryly.HerhatredforIrenepracticallycracklesontheair.“Andwhoputyouonguardduty?”
Ireneshrugs.“Ijustliketoplaybytherules.Don’tyou?”
Myheartbeatquickens.It’sashowdownliketheWildWest,andthecrazythingis,IwantIrenetowin.
Tallylungesaroundherandgrabsagarlicstick.Irenepretendstobeaffronted,butIdon’tthinkthefuryinhereyesisfake.
“Mmm,”Tallysays,chowingdown.Shecocksherhead.“Icanseewhyyouwerehoardingthem.”
“Yeah,youcanseerightthroughme,”Irenesayscoolly.Sheturnsandstalksoff,butnotbeforecatchingmyeye.
Tallyeatsanothergarlicstickbeforeshelicksthecrumbsoffherfingersandstrutsbacktothecenteroftheparty.MyfriendsandIwatchintently,tryingtofigureoutwhat’ssupposedtohappennext.WherewasIrenegoingwiththis?
Andthen,asTallyslithersuptotheprettygirlshewasmakingoutwithearlier,ithitsme.
“Ohshit—”
Tallyleansintokissthegirlagain.Forablisteringmomentthey’rewrappedtogether,mouthsopen,Tallydevouringher,andthen—
“AUGH!”thegirlgags,rearingbackward.Shecovershermouthwithherhand.
Tallylooksstricken.Shetriestosaysomethinginthegirl’sear.
“Backoff!”thegirlsays,lungingawayfromher.“God,thatsmell!”
Thewholepartyiswatchingnow.Abunchofpeoplearelaughing;onegirlhasherphoneouttorecordthehumiliation.Someguyyells,“Comeon,Gibson,brushyourteethforonce!”
Tallyfreezes,mortified,beforeturningonherheelandfleeingtheroom.Iwatchwithmymouthhangingopen,dazzledbythebrillianceofIrene’sscheme.
“Shit,”Kevinsays,hiseyeswide.“ThatwasthebestthingI’veseeninyears.”
“YougottahandittoIrene,”Daniellesays,shakingherhead.“SheknewexactlyhowtopushTally.”
Westayjustlongenoughforthepartytoreachitspeak.Tallyneverreturns,leavingtheCandlehawkgirlbehind.DanielleandKevinmeltintoconversationwithabunchofothersmartkidswhowon’tstoptalkingaboutcollegeapplications.Gunther,tomysurprise,managestocaptureHoney-Belle’sattention.Theysitatthekitchentable,whisperingandlaughingateachother,sooblivioustoeverythingaroundthemthatGuntherdoesn’tflinchwhensomeonespillsbeeronhisshoulder.IfHoney-BellecansmellthegarliconGunther’sbreath,shedoesn’tseemtomind.
“Prettydiabolicalplan,”ItellIrenewhenIfindherinthehallway.
Sheshrugs.“IcanbeevilwhenIwanttobe.”
“AndhereIthoughtyouhadnocontroloverit.”
“Haha.”
“Sowe’veslainonebeasttonight.Where’stheother?”
Irenescansthevicinity,searchingforCharlotte.“Idon’tknow.Ikeepwaitingforhertostrike.”
“Maybeshedoesn’tcarethatyou’rehere.She’stoobusyhosting.”
“Believeme,shecares.She’sprobablyplottingwithhersoccerhenchmen.”
“Henchwomen.”
“Henchpeople.”
Ishrugandgulpdownthebeerinmyhand.IfeelmuchmorerelaxednowthatTallyisoutofsight.“Whatever.Ithinkyou’rebeingparanoid,”Isay,bumpingherwithmyshoulder.Myskintingles,butIignoreit.
“You’rebeingarrogant.Youdon’tknowCharlottelikeIdo.”
Unfortunately,Ireneprovestoberight.It’sonlyafewminuteslaterthatthemusiccutsoffandthepartysplitsintosilenceagain.
CharlottePascal,withhergorgeousauburnlocksandshrewdgreeneyes,climbsatopachair.Herboyfriendgivesherahandup,eventhoughshedoesn’tneedit.Helookspompousandbored.
“Hel-lo,everyone,”Charlottesaysinherusualaffectedtone.“Thankssomuchforcomingovertonight.PeoplefromCandlehawk,thankyouformakingthedrive.”Shepauses.“Andeveryoneelse,pleaseremembertovoteformeforStudentAthleteoftheYear.”
“Ohgod,”Irenemuttersunderherbreath.
“SpeakingofSAOY…”Charlotte’sexpressionturnsmalicious.“Iknowwehaveatleastoneothercandidateheretonight:thenewlygayIreneAbraham.”
Headsswivelinourdirection.Atrickleofnervouslaughterrunsaroundtheroom.MostpeopleherearetoochickenshittochallengeIrene’ssocialposition,buttheyobviouslydon’tmindanotherpopulargirldoingit.Theexpressionsontheirfacesarethirsty.TheClevelandtripletsactuallystandontheirtiptoestogetabetterlook.
Irenestiffensandleanstheslightestbitintome.Herelbowbrushesmine.Ileanmyweighttowardherwithoutthinkingaboutit.
“I’msoveryhappyforanyonewhofindstheirtruth,”Charlottedrawlson.“It’ssoimportanttocelebratediversityinthisdayandage.ButIalsothinkthattruthshouldbeauthentic,andI’malittleconcernedthatIreneAbrahamisanythingbut.”
Mybloodsimmers.Acrosstheroom,Daniellecatchesmyeye.Icantellwe’reonthesamepageaboutthis:Wecanshit-talkIreneallwewant,butatthispoint,nooneelsecan.
CharlottegestureselaboratelyattheTVinthecenteroftheroom.HerCandlehawkboyfriendhasconnectedhislaptoptoit,andatasignalfromCharlotte,hepopsavideoontothescreen.Atfirstit’sjustastillframe:Irene,darkhairandhazyeyes,smirkingatthecamera.
HepressesPLAY
Charlotte’svoiceblaresfrombehindthecamera.“Youaresooodrunk!Admitit.You’redrunk.”
“Amnot,”Irenesaysonscreen,butshe’sslurring.She’snotlookingatthecamera;Ican’ttellwhethersheknewshewasbeingfilmed.Charlottelaughshystericallyoff-screen.Thevideomustbeatleastayearold,beforetheirfriendshipblewup.
“Youweretotallyhittingonmeearlier,”Charlottesays.“Yougetsogaywhenyou’rewasted.”
“Whaaat?Don’tbeweird,Char.I’mnotgay.”
“There’snothingwrongwithbeinggay,”Charlotte’svoicereplies.Butthewayshesaysitmakesmyskincrawl;it’salmostlikeshe’sbaitingIrene.
“Iknowthat,”video-Ireneslurs.“Ijusthappentobestraight.”
“Areyousure?”
“Halfthepeopleatschoolareonly‘gay’becausetheythinkitmakesthemmoreinteresting.They’resodesperate.It’sembarrassing.”
“Soyou’dneverhookupwithagirl?”
Video-Irenesnorts.Sherubsahanddownherface.“I’mnotsayingIwouldn’t.Butyouknowitwouldn’tmeananythingtome.”
Thevideoends.CandlehawkBoyfriendunplugshiscomputerandsmirksatCharlotte.There’saringingsilenceaseveryoneturnsinourdirection.I’veneverfeltsoexposed,andthevideowasn’tevenaboutme.
TherealIreneisstock-stillnexttome.Hercheeksareflushedwithdarkpatches.Iwaitforhertorecoveranddeliverherusualacidicretort,butforthefirsttimesinceI’veknownher,she’smute.Onimpulse,Igrabherhandandtugheraway,throughthehallwayandoutsidetothesharp,coldair.
10
Thenightisquietandbare:avacuumofsound.Itmustbechilly,butIdon’tnoticeit,eitherbecauseI’vebeendrinkingorbecausemybloodisboiling,ormaybeboth.IholdIrene’shanduntilwemakeitpastCharlotte’sfrontwalk.Shestopscoldandpullsherhandaway.
Wesquareoff,facingeachother.Herchestisheaving;hereyesaredaggers.
“I’msorry,”Isayquietly.
Sheglancesaway.“LikeIsaid.”Hervoiceiseerilycalm.“You’rearroganttothinkyouunderstandmyenemiesbetterthanIdo.”
Iswallow.“You’reright.”
DanielleandHoney-Bellecatchuptousatthecar.Honey-BellefallsalloverIrene,pettingherhairandaskingifshe’sokay.
“I’mfine,”Irenesaysflatly,holdingHoney-Belleatarm’slength.“Pleasestopsmotheringme.”
“CharlottePascalistrash,”Daniellesays.Hereyestakeonthatdestructivelookshegetsonthebasketballcourt,butshelooksunexpectedlyatIrene.“You’dbetterbesincereaboutbeinggay,though.Youcan’tfakelikinggirlsforvotes.”
“Ofcourseshe’ssincere,”Honey-Bellesnaps.“Youdon’tknowtheprocessshe’sgonethrough—youcan’timaginetheinternalizedhomophobia—”
“Mybestfriendisgay,too,Honey-Belle,”Daniellesaysloudly.“Soyou’llunderstandifIwanttomakesureshe’snotbeingledalongbythiswholething.”
Irenesnortsderisively.Shefallsbackagainstthecar,shakingherhead.“‘Ledalong.’That’saninterestingwaytoputit.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”Honey-Belleasks.
IreneandIlockeyes.Iprepareforhertothrowthiswholearrangementaway,andinthatmoment,Ialmostwantherto.Thisschemehascausedmoretroublethanit’sworth.Forbothofus.
Butasusual,shesurprisesme.
“Nothing.”Shesniffs.“Let’sjustgetoutofhere.I’mtiredofthinking.I’mtiredofacting.”
Honey-Bellenodssympathetically.Daniellesetshermouth,butsheglancestowardme,deferring.
“Okay,”Isay,tryingtoanchormyself.“Let’sgo.Butsomeoneelseneedstodrive.”
“Ican,”Honey-Bellesays.“Ididn’tdrinkanything.”
Inod,handhermykeys,andslinkintothebackseat.WhenDanielleslidesinnexttome,Imeethereyessheepishly.“Didyoutelltheboyswewon’tbeback?”
“Yeah,”shesaysshortly.ShewasgettingsuchgoodqualitytimewithKevin,butshegaveituptocheckonmyfakegirlfriendandme.Notforthefirsttime,Ifeelunworthyofherfriendship.
Irenetucksherselfintothepassengerseatinfrontofme.Iwatchherexpressioninthesidemirroraswepullawayfromthecurb.Shelooksutterlydefeated.Iknowit’snotdirectlybecauseofme,butIstillfeeltheweightofit.
Itwasn’tyourfault,Momsaidthedayoftheaccident,butit’sstillyourresponsibility
IspeakbeforeIcanthinktwiceaboutit.
“Maybeweshouldkeephangingout,justthefourofus.”
DaniellestaresatmelikeI’mmalfunctioning.Irenemaintainsherstonysilence.ButHoney-Belle,Godblessher,gaspswithdelight.
“Ilovethatidea!Likeagirls’sleepover?”Shegaspsagain.“Wecouldhaveaself-carenightinmyJacuzzi!”
Danielle’sinterestpiques.“Wait,holdon.YouhaveaJacuzzi?”
“Yeah,withseventypesofbubblesandcolor-changinglights!”
Daniellebitesherlip.She’salwayslovedJacuzzis.Icatchhereye,andshesighsinresignation.“Fuckit,I’min.”
“Great!”Honey-Belletrills.
“Irene?”Iaskhopefully.
Ireneclearsherthroatandshiftsinherseat.“Fine.”
Honey-Bellecheersandspinsthecarintheotherdirection.
TheHewetthouseisverymuchwhatyouwouldexpectoftheGrandmaEarlChristmasEmporiumheirs.It’slikeagingerbreadhousecometolife,withswirlsofcolorandlight.IcanhearthethrillinMrs.Zander’svoicewhenDaniellecallstosaywe’llbestayingheretonight.
“Isittruetheyhaveahiddenlibrary?”Mrs.Zanderasks.Daniellehastenstoclickthevolumedownonherphone,butwecanstillhearhermom’sexcitedvoice.“Teddywantstoknowiftheyreallyhaveaballpitinthebasement!”
“Wedo!”Honey-Bellebeams.“Yourbrothercanplayhereanytime!”
Danielleblushesandhastilytellshermomgoodnight.
Afterthat,it’samatteroffiguringoutswimwearfortheJacuzzi.IrenehasherownbathingsuitshekeepsattheHewetts’house—it’sasredasthedevil,whichdoesn’tsurprisemeintheslightest—andHoney-Bellehasaflowerybikinishe’soutgrownthatfitsDanielle’spetiteframewellenough.
Butasforme?
“Howaboutthistop,Scottie?”Honey-Belleasks,handingmeaflamingorangeracerbackthatclasheshorriblywithmyhair.Itlookstoobigforme,butmaybetheracerbackwillkeepitinplace.Ipullitonandturnaroundtoshowtheothers.
“Youlooklikeacarrot,”Irenesays,snorting.Herhandsareatherhips,herbarestomachshininginthelamplight.IcatchmyselfstaringandturntowardDanielleinstead.
“Baywatchthinksshe’sfunny,”Isay,jerkingmythumbtowardIrene.
“Sheis,”Daniellesays.
Honey-Belleleadsusthroughthemerryhousewithitstwinklinglightsandpink-cheekednutcrackersuntilwereachasunroomwithaJacuzzisquatinthecenter.It’soneofthoseabovegroundwhirlpoolswithaninsulatedcover,whichIreneandHoney-Bellepulloffthetopinawaythatsuggeststhey’vedonethisamilliontimesbefore.
“It’s…bedazzled,”Daniellewhisperstome.There’snoneedforhertopointitout:Theglintinggemstonescatchthelightoneverypartoftheoutershell.
Ican’thelplaughing,becausethemoreIhangoutwithHoney-Belle,thelessanyofthissurprisesme.
Honey-Bellefiddleswiththecontrolleruntilthehottubroarstolife,thejetsglug-glug-gluggingwhilebubblespopatthesurface.Wesinkintothehotwaterandstretchagainstthefoursidesofthetub.
“Thisisheaven,”Daniellesayswithhereyesclosed.“Screwthatparty,weshould’vebeendoingthisthewholetime.”
Irenesinkslowenoughforthewatertoreachherchin.Herexpressioncloudsover,andIthinkshemustberuminatingonCharlotte’scruelgag.Ifeelanotherstabofguiltinmychest.
Honey-Bellemustbethinkingalongthesamelines,becausesheaffectionatelyscratchesIrene’sheadandsays,“HowaboutweplayHow’sYourHeart?”
Irenelaughs.“Youcan,Honey-Belle.”
“Whatisit?”Danielleasksskeptically.
“It’swhatitsoundslike,”Honey-Bellesaysbrightly.“Everyonegoesaroundandshareshowtheirheartfeelsrightnow.MomandDadandIplayitallthetime.”
DaniellemeetsmyeyeswithalookthatsaysThiscan’tbereal.
“I’llstart,”Honey-Bellesays,undeterred.“MyheartfeelshappyfromtalkingtoGunthertonight.He’ssosweetandinteresting.”Shebitesherlipdemurely.“Ididn’tknowhewassofunny.”
“Ishe,though?”ImuttertoDanielle.
Danielledoesn’thearme;she’sstaringkeenlyatHoney-Belle.“Howdoyouadmitthatsoeasily?”
“What?ThatIlikeGunther?”
Danielletwistshermouth,self-conscious.“Yeah.Whatifhedoesn’tlikeyouback?”
Honey-Belleshrugs.“That’suptohim,notme.IalwayssaywhenIlikethingssotheuniversewillhearmeclearly.Actually,that’showIreneandIbecamefriends!ItoldherIlikedheraura.It’sshimmeryandbold,asI’msurey’allhavenoticed.”SheshakesDanielle’sforearm.“Why,doyoulikesomeone?”
“No,no,definitelynot.”Danielleclearsherthroat.“Iwasjustaskinghypothetically.”
“That’stoobad,becausethere’sprobablylotsofguyswholikeyou.You’reanaturalleaderandyou’resuperbrainyand,totopitalloff,youhaveCleopatraeyes.Youcouldruleawholekingdomwithascepterandanecklaceofrubies.”
Danielleblinksrapidly.“Er…thankyou.”
“Anytime.”Honey-Bellebeams.“Yourturn:How’syourheart?”
“Um.”Danielleshiftstospreadherarmswider.“Myheartfeelsanxious.It’slikeI’malwaysontheedgeofsomething.Thenexttest,thenextbiggame,thenextcollegeacceptanceletter.IhaveahardtimebeinghappywhereIam.”
I’veneverheardDaniellespeaklikethis.Asurgeofaffectionshootsupthroughmychest.Iwanttoreachacrossthehottubandhugher.
“Thatsoundsmegastressful,”Honey-Bellecoos.“Thankyouforsharingandhelpingtocementourbondofvulnerability.Okay,Ireenie,you’renext.”
Irene,whohasbeentakingallthisinasquietlyasIhave,shakesherhead.“Nottonight,Honey-Belle.”
“Ohcomeon.Wecantellyou’reupsetabouttheparty.”
“I’mfine.”
“Youraurahasgonedarkandspiky,”Honey-Bellesayspointedly.
Irenedipsherheadbacksoshe’slookingattheceiling.“Fine.Myheartfeelsbetrayed.”Shepauses.“I’malsohungry.”
Honey-Bellesmiles.“Iwaswaitingforthat.Nachos?”
“God,yes,please.”
“Comingrightup.Danielle,willyouhelpme?”
“What?”Daniellesays.“Butit’ssowarminhere—”
Honey-Bellestaresmeaningfullyatheranddoesanobviousheadcockinmydirection;sheclearlywantsmetohaveamomentalonewiththeangstyIrene.
“Yeah,yeah,”Daniellegrumbles,followingHoney-BelleoutoftheJacuzzi.“Y’allbetterhavejalape?os…”
IreneandIareleftinaloadedsilenceastheirvoicestrailoutoftheroom.Weignoreeachotherfromoppositesidesofthehottubuntilafullminutehaspassed.
“It’syourturn,”Irenesayssuddenly.
“What?”Iask,eventhoughIknowwhatshemeans.
Shestaresexpectantlyatme,unimpressedwithmyfeignedignorance.Irollmyeyesandstretchmyarmsacrossthetopofthetub.
“Ifeel—”
“No,”shecutsmeoff.Bythelookonherface,Icantellshe’senjoyingmydiscomfort.“Not‘I.’Youknowtheformat.”
Iglareather.“Myheartfeelsmixedemotions.”
“Like?”
“Iguessyoucouldsaythere’satinypartofmyheartthatfeelsbadforsubjectingyoutoCharlotte.Andmaybemyheartfeelsguiltyaboutit.”
Irenesquintsacrossthehaze.“AndhereIthoughtyoucouldn’tadmittobeingwrong.”
“Iguessyoumadeanincorrectassumption,then,huh?”
Theghostofasmirkflitsacrosshermouth.Ithinkwe’regoingtoleaveitatthatuntilshesays,inarecklesssortofway,“YouknowIwaslyinginthatvideo,right?”
Weblinkateachotheracrosstheroiling,gurglingwater.Ihesitate,knowingit’sriskyformetocallherout.Itaketheplungeanyway.
“Youhadfeelingsforher,didn’tyou?”
Thewayshetightenshermouthtellsmeeverything.
“Butshedidn’tlikeyouback…,”Isay,puttingthepiecestogether,“andshe’sobviouslyasociopath,sosheknewhowtouseitagainstyou…Letmeguess:Didshemakeoutwithyou‘forfun’andactlikeyouwerecrazyforreadingintoit?”
Irene’sexpressiondarkens.Herchestrisesandfallsbeneaththewater.Iforcemyselftokeepmyeyesaboveherneckline.
“Thefirsttimewehookedupwasthesamenightshetookthatvideo,”Irenesays.
“You’reshittingme.”
“I’mnot.”
“Soyouknewshewasfilmingyou?”
“Iwastoodrunktocare.”Shepauses.“Idrankalotbackthen.”
“Andnowyoudon’t.”It’snotaquestion.I’dinferredasmuchafterwatchinghersipwaterallnight.
Sheturnsawayandglancesupatthedarkskylight.“DidyouandTallysleeptogether?”
Thequestionknocksthebreathoutofme.Foralongbeat,Ican’tanswer.“Nowwhothinksthey’reentitledtopersonalhistory?”
Irenedoesn’tlaugh.Hereyesburnintomine.“Didyou?”
Ilookawayfromher.“Yes.”
We’resilent.TheJacuzzibubblessimmerandpop.
“DidyouandCharlottesleeptogether?”
Irenebrushesafingeragainstherchin.“Onlywhenweweredrunk.”
“Andshehasthenervetopullthatshitonyoutonight?”
Ireneisquiet.Thenshesays:“CharlottehatesmebecauseIlovedher.”
“Thatdoesn’tmakeanysense.”
“Saysthegirlwhocan’tfigureoutwhethershewantstoboneormurderherex-girlfriend.”
Ifallsilent.
“CharlotteisthereasonIhavethisscar.”Shetoucheshereyebrow,smoothingitoverlikeonedayshecanmakeitfullagain.Eveninthedimlightofthehottub,Icanseethebreakinherskin.
“WewenttothisCandlehawkpartylastyear,”shecontinues.“ItwasthecraziestshitI’veeverseen.Pillseverywhereyoulooked,girlsfeelingeachotherupwhilepeoplewatched,someguysobbinginthecornerbecausehewassotweakedout.AllIwantedwastogohomeandbetogether,justthetwoofus,butCharlottecaughtaglimpseofPrescottfromacrosstheroom,andthatwastheendofit.”
Prescott.TheCandlehawkboyfriend.ThepompousjerkwhoassistedCharlottetonight.
“Sheaskedhimtodriveustoherhouse.Hewassowastedhecouldhardlystandupstraight.Irefusedtogetinhiscar,ortolethergetinhiscar,butCharlottewassomessedupshestartedfightingme.ShekeptyellingabouthowIwasinlovewithherbutcouldneverhaveher,andIwasajealousloser,andthatitwastotallypatheticand—”shecutsherselfoff.“Itriedtograbher,butsheshovedmeoff.Ismashedintothishugecabinetandcutmyfaceonthecorner.”
Ithinkoftheloresurroundinghereyebrowscar.Shegottoodrunkataparty.Sheswamintothesideofthepoolwhenshewaswasted.Shefelloffthebedwhenshewashavingcrazy,anonymoussex.Whatacruel,bastardizedversionofthetruth.
AndthenIrememberthemanytimesIwantedtothankthepersonwhoputthatscarthere.Itmakesmesicktomystomach.
“Charlotte’sanasshole,”Itellher.“Sheshouldbethankingherluckystarsyoustoppedherfromgettingintothatcar.”
“ButIdidn’t,”Irenesays.There’satingeofregretinhertone.“Iwasdrunk,too,andallIcouldfocusonwasmyfacebleeding.Ilethergooffwithhimandhegotpulledoveramilefromhishouse.HeshouldhavegottenaDUI,buthisparentswerefriendswiththeCandlehawkpolicechief,sotheylethimgowithawarning.Charlottewasescortedhome,herparentsfreakedoutandtoldCoachBanzaandtheothersoccercoaches,andshegotbenchedforthefirstfivegamesofwhatwassupposedtobeherbigdebutyear.”
“Andsheblamesyouforthis?”
Irenesmileswryly.
“Butyoutriedtostopher!”
“ShethinksIshouldhavetriedharder.AndIdon’tknow,maybeIshouldhave.Butsometimesitjusthurtstoomuch.”
Iletthestorysettlearoundus.“I’msorryImadeyougotonight.”
Hereyestakemein.“Youdidn’tmakemedoanything.IknewwhatIwassteppinginto.”
“Still.I’msorryIdidn’ttakeitseriouslywhenyoutoldmehowtoxicitwasbetweenyou.”
“It’sfine,Scottie,”shesays,brushingmyapologyaway.Thewayshesaysmynameiscomfortableandworn.“I’mnottheonlyonedealingwithatoxicfallout.”
Myheartpangs,rememberingTallyatthepartytonight.“Yeah.Iguess.”
Iwanttotalkmore,butDanielleandHoney-Bellebargeinwiththeirtrayofnachos.Irenesitsupandforcesenthusiasm,andIrememberwhatshesaidleavingCharlotte’stonight.I’mtiredofthinking.I’mtiredofacting.
Foronce,Idon’tcallheronit.Wekickbackinthehottubandfeastuntilwe’rewrinkledasprunes.
Whenit’stimeforbed,Honey-Bellesurprisesusbyofferingherbedroom.
“Ohno—”IreneandIsaytogether.
“Really,Iwantyoutohaveit!”Honey-Belleinsists,graspingourhands.“DanielleandIcansleepinthebunkbedroom.”
Behindher,Daniellestrugglestoholdastraightface.Icanseethelaughfightingtoburstoutofher.
“Honey-Belle,don’tbeamartyr,”Irenesaysurgently.“Youloveyourbed.”
“AndIalsoloveyou,”Honey-Bellesays,tuggingonaloosetendrilofIrene’shair.“Andyourgirlfriend.”
Irenelookspointedlyatme,butI’matalossforhowtogetoutofthisone.
“Soundscozy,”Daniellepipesup.“Youguyscansnuggleupandwhispersweetnothingswhileyoufallasleep.Whatcouldbebetter?”
IshootherthemostintensedeathglareIcanmuster,butshejustgrins.
“Soit’ssettled,then,”Honey-Bellesaysbrightly.“Letmegetyousomecozypj’stomakethesnugglingevenbetter.”
Sometimelater,IfindmyselfstandinginthemiddleofabedroomthatisunmistakablyHoney-Belle’s.There’sanentirewallofstuffedanimals,mostofwhichareunicorns.Icountninedifferentmusicboxesatopthedressers,desk,andnightstand.Thesleigh-stylebediscoveredwithafluffyyellowcomforterbeneathahighwhitecanopy.
Irenemovestostandontheoppositesideofthebed,eyeingitlikeasewershe’sdreadingclimbinginto.Istepuptomysideandwait.There’saswellofsilenceaswedelaytheinevitable.
“Fuck,”Isayfinally.
“Hmph,”shesnortsinagreement.
“Youcouldn’tconvincehertoputusinthebunkbedroom?She’syourfriend.”
“Thisisyourstupidscheme,andIdidn’tseeyoumakinganyeffort.”
Ishakemyhead.“It’simpossibletoarguewithher.It’slikeupsettingababy.”
“Don’tpatronizeher.”
“I’mnot,butyouknowwhatImean.”
“Youdefinitelyare,butwhatever.”Shesnatchesherpajamasoutofherduffelbaginawaythatsuggeststheconversationisover.Ilaymyborrowedpairoutonthebed.Webothgostill.There’sanotherswellofsilence.
“Nervoustochangeinfrontofme,snookums?”Iask.
“Doyoualwaysprojectyourneurosesontootherpeople?”SheslipshertoweloffherbodyandIrollmyeyessoIwon’taccidentallylookatherbareskin.Sheturnsawaytochange,butglancesbackatmeatthelastsecond.“Don’tyoudarecreeponme.”
“Right,’causethat’swhatI’mthinking.I’drathercreeponabunchofboys.”
“Funny,”shehuffs,spinningaround.Shestartstopulloffherbathingsuitstraps;herbackmusclesmoveinthedimlight.Iwonderhowitwouldfeeltopressmylipstothenapeofherneck—
No.Stop
Isqueezemyeyesshutandturnhastilyaround.Islipintomyborrowedsetofpajamas—asoftblueshirtwitharibbonatthecollarandapairofcandycane-stripedbottoms.Theonlysoundistheheavythwapofourdampbathingsuitshittingthefloor.Myheartwon’tstopthumpinginmyneck.
JustasI’mpullingmyhairoutofmyshirt,Ireneclearsherthroat.
“Areyoufinished?”
“Yes.”
Sheturnsaround.Hereyesflickerbrieflyovermypajamas,butshedoesn’tsayanything,justgathershertoiletrybag.Istayquietassheslipsoutoftheroom.
I’mnotgoingtowashmyfaceorbrushmyteethalongsideher,soIplopdownonthebedandwait.Iglanceatherphonelyinginnocentlyonthebedsidetableandtrytoimaginewhatherpasscodemightbe.Itellmyselfit’sprobably666,butthejokedoesn’tamusemethewayitnormallywould.It’sbeenaweird,confusingnight.
ThelastpersonIsharedabedwithwasTally.Itwassummertimeandherparentswereoutoftown.Weheldeachotherbeneaththesheets,andmyheartpulsedateverytouchofherskin.Butthatwasmonthsago—longbeforeshemadeoutwithanothergirlataparty,longbeforeIsetupadatingrusetomakeherjealous.
WouldIhaverejectedherforhavinggarlicbreathtonight?Iknowtheanswerimmediately:NoIlovedhertoomuch.
Butwouldshehaverejectedme?
“Iknewyouwerethetypetofallasleepwithoutbrushingyourteethfirst.Gross.”
Irenecomesswooshingbackintothebedroom,herloosepajamashirthangingoverherblackjoggers.Iswallowdowntheunexpectedemotioninmythroatandtrytolevelaretortherway.
“Areyouwearingaretainer?”Ishootback.“God.Pleasedon’tbreatheinmydirectiontonight.”
“I’msureyou’llsmothermewithapillowifIdo.You’dbetterhurryifyouwanttobeatHoney-Belle.Shetakesforeverinthebathroom.”
Igrabmythingsandhustleoutoftheroom,gladforanexcusetobealoneagain.IusethesparetoothbrushHoney-Bellegaveme,noticinghowIrenehassqueezedthetoothpastesoitperfectlycurlsattheemptyend.Freakingweirdo.Iwashmyfaceandtakeseveraldeepbreathstoclearmyhead.
WhenIslipbackintoHoney-Belle’sbedroom,Ireneistuckedbeneaththecovers,playingonherphone.Herhairhangslongandwavy,thesidesofitbrushingherglasses.Ihadnoideasheworeglasses.
“You’dbetternottouchme,”shesaysasIcrawlintobed.
“InwhatuniversewouldItouchyou?”
“Youlooklikeahand-grabber.Orafootsiefreak.”
“Nochance,weirdo.”It’salie:IwasalwaysgrabbingforTally’shandwhenwesharedabed.IreallyhopeIdon’tsubconsciouslytrythattonight.“Whatareyouholding?”
Theslightestpatchofcolorbloomsinhercheeks.Shekeepshereyesgluedtoherphone.“Nothing.”
ItlookslikeanoldT-shirt,ormaybejustarag.Shehasittuckedunderherarminawaythatsuggestsregularhabit.
“Doesn’tlooklikenothing.”
“Shutup,”shemutters,butshedoesn’tsayanythingmore.
“No,really,”Isay,rollingmyheadtowardhers.“What’sthestory?”
She’ssilentforanannoyinglylongminute.“It’smymom’soldshirt.SheletmenapwithitwhenIwaslittle.”
“Why?”
“Becauseitwassoft,”shesaysirritably.“Whydoyoucare?”
Ishrug,unperturbed.“Ijustthinkit’sfunnywhenyou’reweird.”
“Everyone’sweird.”Sherollsawayandturnsoffthelight.“Goodnight.Touchmeandyoudie.”
Thewayshesaysit,it’salmostlikeshe’stryingtomakemelaugh.
“Sweetdreamstoyou,too.”
Ittakesmeawhiletofallasleep.IcanfeelIrenestruggling,too.Itfeelstoointimate,toorevealing,tosleepalongsideeachotherlikethis.I’mtooattunedtoherbreathingcycle,tothesoundofhercheekfindingthecoldpartofthepillow.I’mtooawareofthesmellofherhair,onlyinchesfrommyface.
11
Iwakeuptooearly,like7:00A.M.early.Theblue-whitelightispeekingthroughthecurtains,andtheroomisquietandcalm.Ireneissleepingonherstomach,hermom’soldshirtclutchedagainstherside.Herwavyhairfansacrossthepillow.Ofcourseshelooksattractiveevenwhenshe’sasleep.
Islipoutofbedandsneakdowntothekitchen,hopingtofindsomebreadIcantoast,butI’mnotalonelikeI’dhoped.
Honey-Belleisthere,sittingcross-leggedatthetable,scrollingthroughherphonewithherhairstickingupatoddangles.
“Scottie!”Shebeams.“How’dyousleep?Didyoulikemyairpurifier?”
“Wedidn’tuseit,”Isayapologetically.Inthebackofmybrain,Inoticehowweirditistosaywe.Ihelpmyselftothebreadboxandfindcranberryjellyintherefrigerator.
“I’msogladIrenehasyounow,”Honey-BelletellsmewhenIsitdown.“Sheneededawinaftereverythingthathappenedlastyear.”
Myearsperkup.“YoumeanwithCharlotte?”
Honey-Bellewinces.“Iknowshemightseemhunguponher,butIpromiseshelikesyou.Icantell.Shetalksaboutyouallthetime.‘Oh,Scottiehastwosisters.Scottiekilleditatpracticeyesterday.Scottielovesthissong.’”
Ialmostchokeonmytoast.“Really?”
“Don’tbeagoof,”Honey-Bellesayswithalittlelaugh.“It’snicetoseeherwithsomeonewhotakescareofher.Ireneissuperloyal.Ifyou’reoneofherpeople,she’lldoanythingforyou.AndI’msureyou’vefiguredoutthatshe’satotalromantic,evenifshedeniesit.Imean,herfavoritemovieisDirtyDancing.Sheplaysthatsongfromtheendoverandoveragain.Socheesy.”
TheironyofHoney-Bellecallingsomethingcheesyisnotlostonme.“Right.”
“Ohmygosh,”Honey-Bellesayssuddenly.“Youknowwhatwehavetodo?Adoubledate!YoucansetmeupwithGunther!”
“Oh…yeah?”
“It’llbeperfect!Howaboutnextweekend?”
WeleaveassoonasDanielleandIrenewakeup.Therivalcollegefootballgamesareontodayandwewanttowatchthemwithourfamilies.IrenerushesusoutsoshecancatchtheGeorgia/GeorgiaTechgamewithherdad,butfirst,shepoursathermosofcoffee.Foreachofus.
ThemomentwedropDanielleoff,IturntoIreneandwordvomit.
“Honey-Bellecorneredmeintoadoubledate.You,me,her,andGunther.IwassoshockedIcouldn’tsayno.”
Irene’sheadrollsslowlyinmydirection.“So?”
“So…that’s…you’refinewiththat?”
Shesighswearily.“We’vealreadydugourselvesthisdeep.Mightaswellgoalittledeeper.”
Itapmyfingersonthecoffeethermosshepouredforme.Sheknewtoaddcream,butnotsugar.Shetakesarelaxedsipofherownthermosandstretchesbackinmypassengerseatlikeshe’sdoneitamilliontimes.
AndIrealize,withatightnessinmychest,thatshehas.
“Yousnoredlikeamonsterlastnight,”Isputter.“Likeadragon.OraT.rex.Ormaybeamastodon.”
Sheshrugs.“Iwastired.”
“Yeah,well…itwasannoying.”
“Sorry,”shesayslikeshecouldn’tcareless.
“Andyoukeptstealingthecovers.Like,everyhalfanhour.Ievenshovedyouatonepoint,butyouwereoblivious.”
Ireneside-eyesme.“Okay,areyoudonenow?”
There’snovenominhertone;shemerelysoundstired.ThewayIonlyletmyselfgetwithmysistersorDanielle.ThewayIneverletmyselfgetwithTally.
“Well,it’s…itwasannoying,”Irepeatfeebly.
Irenedrawsadeepbreath.“CanwepresspauseontheI-hate-your-gutsgame?Thebanterisjuicyandall,butit’dbenicetoletmyguarddown.Especiallyafterlastnight.”
Mychestconstrictsagain.“Fine.”
“SowhatelsedidyouandHoney-Belletalkabout?DidsheshowyouhervintageFurbycollection?”
Ihatethewaywe’retalkinglikecasualfriends.Ihateknowingwhatshelookslikewhenshefirstwakesup.Ihatethatshe’sstillwearingherglassesinfrontofme.
IwanttotellherthatHoney-Bellesaidshetalksaboutmeallthetime.Iwanttoaskherwhatitmeans.Whatanyofthismeans.
ButIcan’tgothere.Ican’t.Tallymadeoutwithanothergirlinfrontofmelastnight,andthenIreneandIsharedabed,andIdon’tknowhowtoprocessanyofit.
“Wemadeplansforthedoubledate,”Isaywithashrug.“Itsoundsridiculous,butwhatever.”
“Itwon’tbethatbad.Hopefullywe’llgetagoodmovieoutofit.”Shedropsherheadbackandwatchesthesceneryflybylikeshedoesn’thaveacareintheworld.“Butyou’redriving.”
I’dthoughtIrene’sreputationmighttakeahitafterCharlotte’santics,butifanything,peopleatschoolseemevenmoreobsessedwithher.Someofthem—mostlythecheerleadersandtheirfollowers—insistthatIreneisavictiminthissituation.“It’snobody’struthbutherown!”Ihearonegirlrantingtoherfriend.“Howdareanyonejudgeherjourney?!”Otherpeople,ledbythesoccergirls,areconvincedthatIreneismanipulatingthewholeschoolforthepurposeofsecuringaSAOYnomination.“Like,doesshethinkwe’resomekindofconvenientidentityshecanjustshrugonandoffagain?”thequeersoccergoaliesaystoanyonewhowilllisten.“There’snowayinhellpeoplewillbuyintothisbullshit.”
Theonlypeoplewhoknowthetruth—whichissomewhereinthemiddleoftheseopposingsides—areIrene,Danielle,andmyself.Irenedoesn’tseemparticularlybotheredbytheconstantgossip,andDanielleistooantsyabouttheupcomingChristmasClassictopayanyattention.Asforme,I’mpreoccupiedwithcheckingmyphoneeveryothersecond.I’dthoughtTallymighttextmeaftertheparty,butshe’sbeensilent.
OnthefirstweekendofDecember,IreneandIgoforwardwithourdoubledatewithGuntherandHoney-Belle.Itdoesn’tseemlikeabadideanowthatweneedtocementourselvesasa“real”couple,especiallybecauseIknowHoney-Bellewilltalkaboutitatschoolthefollowingweek.Thatshouldgetthehatersoffourbacks.
Sothat’showIfindmyselfswingingintoIrene’sdrivewayonaFridaynight,dressedinmybestdateclotheswithmyhairstraightenedtoperfection.I’mrightontimetopickherup.BywhichImean,I’monlyfourminuteslate.Shedoesn’tevenbothercomplainingaboutit.
WedrivetotheChuckMunnyinnearsilenceuntilIrenetakesthelibertyofpluggingherownphoneintotheauxcable.
“Um?”Isay.
“Um?”shemocks,battinghereyelashes.
“Playsomethinggood,atleast.”
“Sorry,butIdon’thaveyoureighties-dadplaylistonSpotify.”
“Oh,aren’tyoujusthilarious.”
Whenwegettothetheater,Honey-BelleandGuntherarealreadythere,chattinginsidetheconcessionsarea.Irenetakesmyarmasweswoopuptothem.
“Suchagreatnightforadate,right?”shesays.“IhadtoforceScottieoffthecouch.Shewasenjoyingoursnugglingalittletoomuch.”ShepinchesmycheekandItrynottoswatheroff.“Youknowhowsheis.Suchacornball.”
Gunthersmilesuncertainly.“Yeah,Iguess.”HeputsanarmonthesmallofHoney-Belle’sback.“CanItreatyoutoanIcee?”
Aftertheyturnaround,Irenedropsmyarmlikeaheavyweight.
“Thathurt,”Iwhisper,rubbingmycheek.
“Bitch-baby,”shemumbles,scanningthemenuboard.“Arewegettinganything?Icouldgoforasoda.”
“Wecansplitone,”Isaywithoutthinking.
There’satwinkleinhereyes.“Fine,”shesays,shovingmealong.“Buttwostraws,horndog.Idon’twantyourgerms.”
Oncethefourofushaveoursnacks,wemakeourwaytotheonlytheaterinthebuilding.Tonightthey’reshowingSayAnything…,theeightiesclassicwithJohnCusackandIoneSkye.It’smyabsolutefavorite,butIdon’tdaretellanyofthemthat.
Theseatsarepackedwhenwewalkin,sowesplitupbetweentworows.GuntherandHoney-BellesnagacoupleofseatsinthemiddleandIreneandIgrabapairofseatsdiagonallybehindthem.Wesettlebackandkickourfeetupatthesametime.
It’skindofweird,sittingnexttoherinadarktheater,especiallyoncewestarttradingSourPatchKidsbackandforth.MyfingerskeepaccidentallybrushingherswhenIreachintothebox.Iignorethewarmtingleacrossmyscalp.
“Ihavetopee,”Irenesaystowardtheendofthemovie.Shemovestostandup,butIgrabherarm.
“Youcan’tgorightnow!He’sabouttodotheboomboxthing!”
“I’veseenthatclipamilliontimes.”Sherollshereyesinthebluelightofthescreen.“It’ssocheesy.”
“Cheesy?Areyouinsane?”
“Zajac,Iwillpissinyourlapifyoudon’tletmego.”
Sureenough,shemissestheiconicmomentwhenJohnCusackholdstheboomboxoutsideIoneSkye’swindow,serenadingherwith“InYourEyes”atdawn.Igetgoosebumpsupanddownmyentirebody.Withoutmeaningto,IimagineTallyholdingastereooutsidemywindow,determinedtowinmeback.IwonderifI’drunouttoher.
“Ifeelsomuchbetter,”Irenewhisperswhenshereturns.
“Ican’tbelieveyoumissedthat.”
“Isureashellwasn’tgoingtomissthescenewhereherdadgetscaughtembezzling.That’sthebestpart.”
Ishakemyheadinthedarkness,butIrenemerelyshrugsandstealsthesodacupfrommyhand.
GuntherandHoney-Belleareholdinghandswhenweexitthetheater.Irenecatchesmyeyeandpretendstogagwhenthey’renotlooking.Italmostmakesmelaugh.
“Whatanightforromance,”shesaysaswe’redrivinghome.“Honey-BelleandGunther,IoneSkye’sdadandprison…”
“You’resuchacynic.”
“Amnot.”ShechewsonanotherSourPatchKid.SheinsistedwebuyasecondboxbeforewelefttheMunny.“Ijustalwayshatedthatstupidboomboxmoment.It’smelodramaticfornoreason.”
Iwhiparoundtoscoffather.“It’soneofthemosticonicimagesinAmericancinema.It’sfuckingperfect.”
“It’semptyandself-indulgent.”
“It’sromantic.It’stenderandpoignantandstar-crossed—”
“It’sawasteoftime.Grandgesturesdon’tmeananythingintheplaceofactualeffort.Heshouldhavejusttalkedtoher.Youknow,actuallycommunicatedinsteadofperformingsomefantasyversionoflove.Hejustwantedtobeallupinhisfeels.”
Iglareather.“SaysthegirlwhosefavoritemovieisDirtyDancing.”
Irenefallssilent.Eveninthedarkness,Icanseeherembarrassment.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“Ihavemyways.”
“Seriously.”Shereachesovertopinchmyarm,andIyelp.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“God,relax,I’mtryingtodrive!Honey-Belletoldme,okay?”
Ireneblowsoutanirritatedbreath,butIcanheartheself-consciousnessbeneathit.“Whatelsedidshetellyou?”
“That’sbetweenus.”
“Scottie.”
“Fine,youreallywannaknow?Shesaidyoutalkaboutmeallthetime.”
Irenesnorts.“Ohdidshenow…”
“Areyoutalkingaboutme?”
Shenarrowshereyes.“What,youthinkI’m,like,gossiping?Ispendhalfmytimewithyounow.You’reobviouslygoingtocomeupinconversation.”
“Shesaidyoutalkaboutmyfavoritesongs.”
Irenelaughsinthebackofherthroat.“MorelikeIcomplainthatyouplaythesamefivesongsoverandover.”
Ilookoveratherasweturnbackontothemainroad.“Soyou’renot…like…”
“Obsessedwithyou?”Shesnortsandstrainsagainsttheseat.“No.WereyouworriedIwascatchingfeelings?”
“No,”Isayhastily.
“Okay,good.BecauseI’mnot.”
“Good.NeitheramI.”
Wefallsilent.Iturnthemusicup.Sheturnsitbackdown.
“Youdon’thavetoactliketheideaissohorrible,though,”shesays.“Yousoundlikeyou’vecontractedbirdflu.”
“That’snotwhatImeant,”Isayquickly.“It’sjust…thisispurelyabusinessarrangement.”
“Iamwellaware,Zajac.”Shecrossesherarmsoverherchest.“Iwouldn’twanttodateyou,anyway.Youlovedramatoomuch.”
“What?Idon’tlovedrama.”
“Youtotallydo.”
“Inwhatway?!”
“Um—”Shegesturesmeaningfullybetweenus.“Thisway?Payingsomeonetobeyourgirlfriendsoyoucanemotionallymanipulatetheexwhodoesn’tcareaboutyou?Talkaboutaperformativegesture.It’sexactlythekindofthingIhate.”
Ifeelmyheartraterising,mycheeksflushing.“You’rereallypushingmybuttons,youknowthat?WhatwasityousaidafterCharlotte’sparty—somethingabouthowIwasarroganttothinkIunderstoodyourenemies?”
Shepopsherlips.“Pointtaken.I’llstayinmylane.”
“Thankyou.”
Whenwepullintoherdriveway,shetakeshertimegettingoutofmycar.SheevenhandsmethelastfewSourPatchKids.
“Okaylook,youknowsomething?”Shehoversoutsidemycardoor,herhandsinherjumpsuitpockets.“Idon’tunderstandyourmotivationwiththiswholething,butIdothinkit’s…endearing…thatyoustillbelieveinlove.Evenifit’softhemelodramatic-gestureskind.”
Inarrowmyeyes,pretendingtobesuspiciousofher.“Thiscandyreallygottoyou,huh?”
“What?”
“‘Firstthey’resour,thenthey’resweet,’”Irecite.
Shedropsherheadback,disgustedwithme.“Wow.Thatwasactuallytheworst.”
“Goodthingyou’remakingaprettypennyoffit.”
“Honestly,Ineedapayincrease.”
Ismirk.“’Night,Abraham.”
“’Night,Zajac.”
Sherollshereyesandsnapsmydoorclosed.
12
ThemorningoftheChristmasClassicgame,IwakeuptoaFaceTimecallfromDanielle,who’sstillinbedwithherhairscarfon.“I’mfreakingout,”shesaysscratchily.“Mystomach’stwisteduplikeapretzel.TellmeI’mallowedtoquittheteam.”
“Don’taskme,askourcaptain,”Isay,rubbingmyeyes.“Butjustknow,she’sahard-ass.”
“Haha.”
Wegetoutofbedandgotoourrespectivetoilets,inourrespectivehouses,andcarryonourconversation.
“Ican’tevenpee,”Daniellegroans,screwingupherface.“Ihatesports.Ihatethem.I’monlymeanttobeabookworm.IamHermioneandIwillneverbeChoChang.”
“You’reboth,”Ipromiseher.“I’mnervous,too,butIhaveagreatfeelingabouttonight!Aren’tyouatleastalittleexcited?”
Shegroanssomemore.Wehangupaftershepromisestoplayupbeatmusicduringhershower.
Mysistersbolstermyconfidencewhentheybargeintomyroomsinging“IT’SGAMEDAY!IT’SGAMEDAY!FUCKCANDLEHAWK,IT’SGAMEDAY!”
“Daphne!”Igasptheatrically.“Didyoujustcurse?”
Theysmooshmeintoahug.Thoraplantskissesallovermyhead,andIcan’tdoanythingbutlaugh.
“I’mwearingyouroldpracticejerseytoschool!”Daphnesays.“Myfriendsaregonnabesosickofmetalkingaboutyou!”
“I’mrenamingourlunchspecialTheEleven,”Thorasays,referringtomyjerseynumber.“You’regonnakillittonight,Scots!”
Irenepicksmeupbeforeschool.We’veplannedthatshe’llbetheonetodrivemetothegame’safter-party,whichwillhopefullybeablowoutcelebrationafterwewin.She’swearingmypicturebuttonaffixedtohershirttoday,andIdoadoubletakewhenIseeit.
“Forreal?”Iask,noteventryingtokeepthedelightoutofmyvoice.“Igotupgradedtoyouractualwardrobe?”
Sheshrugs;thecornersofhermouthtwitch.“It’saspecialoccasion.Icansufferthroughitforoneday.”
Atschool,I’mgreetedwitharoarofnoise.Peoplehigh-fivemeinthehallwaysandtapegood-lucknotestomylocker.TheClevelandtripletsbegtotakeaselfiewithDanielleandme.EvenGinogoesoutofhiswaytobeseentalkingtomeinthecafeterialine.
Bythetimethebellringsattheendoftheday,I’mfeelingsohopefulandassuredthatIactuallyhugIrenewhenIseeher.
“Oh,”shesays,tensingupbeneathmyhug.“Sothisisathingnow?”
“Wedidit,”Itellher.“There’snowayinhellwe’regonnalosethisgame.”
Shelaughs,andformaybethefirsttimesinceI’veknownher,it’sabrightandauthenticlaugh.“Youknowsomething,Zajac?Foronce,Iagreewithyou.”
Thebleachersarejam-packedwithfanswhenmyteamhustlesontothecourt.It’sthefullestI’veeverseenourgym,andthevastmajorityofthecrowdiswearingred.Dozensofpeoplesportthetrademarkreindeerearsthatareusuallyreservedforbigfootballgames.
“Holyshit,”Daniellewhispers,hereyeswide.“There’sevenmorepeoplethanlasttime.”
“Whichmeanswe’llplayevenbetter,”Itellherasweclaimourspotsontheteambench.“We’regonnawintonight,Ipromiseyou.Lookattheirplayers—theycan’tevenfathomhowthishappened!”
Downthelinefromourbench,theCandlehawkplayersintheirshinygoldjerseysareregardingthebleacherswarily.Whereasmyteamiscasuallystretchingandgrinningatourshowofsupport,theirplayersarefrozeninplace.Tallylooksmoredevastatedthantherestofthemputtogether.
Ourstartinglineupsmeetathalf-courtforthejumpball.DanielleandItakeourplacesoneithersideofthecenter,whichmeansI’monlyafewfeetfromTally—theclosestI’vebeentohersinceCharlotte’sparty.
Tallycatchesmyeyeforafleetingsecond.It’shardtoreadtheexpressiononherface,butit’ssomethingclosetoregret.It’salmostlikeshewantsreassurancefromme.Herblueeyesareaskingifthisisafluke.
Ipursemylipsandlookawayfromher,andinthatmoment,IrealizeI’mtheonewhohasthepowernow.Itfeelsincredible.Andyeah,maybeIfeelkindofdisgustedwithmyselfforthat,butIdon’tdwellonit.
Atthelastsecond,beforethereftossestheballintotheair,IlockeyeswithIrene.She’sstandingwithherpom-pomsbehindherback,herhairupinitsperfectponytail,herstanceconfidentandbalanced.Hersquadislinedupneatlybehindher,watchingwithbatedbreath.Shecatchesmelookingandwinks.Aweirdsurgeofaffectionshootsupmychest.
Thereftossestheballup,andthegamebegins.
Afewminutesintothesecondquarter,Iknowforcertainwe’regoingtowin.It’simpossibletodenyourmomentum,ourenergy,theelectricityrollingoffourfans.Daniellesinkstwojumpshotsinarow,heranxietycompletelyevaporated.GoogysnatchesareboundstraightoutofTally’shands.Ihavetwostealsinatwo-minuteperiodandcanliterallyhearmyfamilyscreamingmyname.
Andinthethirdquarter,whenwe’releadingbysixteenpoints,IinterceptapassthatTallymeantforherpointguard.It’sabreakawaystealthathasmeracingdownthecourt,thecrowd’sapplausethunderinginmyears,theballsureandsteadyundermyhand.Imakeaneasylayupandloopmywayunderthebasketwithagrinsobigmycheekshurt.Gunther,dressedintheFightingReindeercostume,burstsontothecourtandscoopsmeupinahug,andeveryonescreamswithlaughter,evenaftertherefthreatensatechnicalfoul.
Intheend,wewinwithasolideleven-pointlead.Tome,itfeelslikewe’vewonOlympicGold.Thenoiseinthegymissolouditmakesmyheadache,butIcan’tdoanythingbutsmileandholdontoDanielle,who’ssohappyshe’sactuallycrying.
Whenwelineuptoshakehandswithouropponents,Idon’tevenlooktwiceatTally.Inthatmoment,I’msofarbeyondherthatIforgetit’sherI’vebeentryingtobeatallalong—andthatIstillhaveawaystogo.Ibreakfreeofthelineuptofindmyfamily,Danielle’sfamily,Gunther,andKevinpouringoutofthestandstohugus.
Andbehindthem,freshoffhervictoryroutine,isIrene.
“Amazingwhatalittleconfidencecando,huh?”sheasksmeinthemidstofthemadness.Hereyesarealight;herwholefaceisshining.Mybuttonispinnedtohercheerleadinguniform.
Ican’tfocusenoughtoanswerher;I’mbeinggrabbedonallsidesbymyteammates,myfamily,myfriends.ButIdoknowthatthesmileswe’regivingeachotherareasrealasthepointsonthescoreboard.
ThesceneattheEmporiumiswild.Outside,bythetracks,peoplearelightingsparklers.Insidethegarage,theairisstuffyandwarm.Honey-Bellehaslitupthestringlights,Guntherispouringeggnogintoholly-greencups,andsomeonehasinflatedthelawn-decorSantaClauses.Everythingiscrowdedandintimateandalive.
Danielleiseuphoric.She’sswitchedhergameshortsoutforherfavoriteAdidasjoggers,butshe’sstillwearingherjerseylikeabadgeofhonor.Inoticeshe’swashedherfaceandputonmakeup,too.Hereyelashes,whicharenaturallylong,lookeventhickerandprettierinthedimlightofthegarage.Andmaybeit’smyimagination,butitseemslikeKevinisnoticing.
Honey-Belleisinhostessmode,hercheerleadinguniformbedeckedwithasparklyfeatherboa.Shecongratulatesmeforthefifthtimeandsqueezesmesohardithurtsmyneck.Gunthergrinsatherlikeapuppydog.
Forthefirsthouroftheparty,myteammatesandIaretreatedtohugsanddrinksandreplays.SomebodysticksreindeerantlersonmyheadandtellsmeIwastheMVP,andIblushwithoutcaringthatmycheeksturnthecolorofmyhair.IhardlyspeaktoIrene,butIhavethissensethatshe’slettingmehavemymoment.WhenIspotherontheothersideofthegarage,stillsportinghercheerleadinguniform,shegrinsandgivesmeanotheruncharacteristicwink.
“Hey!”Honey-Belleshoutsattheroom.“Hey!Cutthemusic!Iwanttomakeatoast!”
Thethumpingbassstopsandpeoplepressclosertothecenteroftheroom.GuntherpassesHoney-Belleaneggnogcupthatsloshesovertherim.
“Where’sIrene?”Honey-Belleshouts.Shelooksatme.“Scottie,where’syourgirl?”
Somethingaboutitmakesmyfacewarm;Ican’tcatchmybreathtoanswerher.
“Irene!”Honey-Belleyells.“Getoverhere!We’retoasting!”
Irenemakesherwayover,rollinghereyesbutlaughingatHoney-Belle’senthusiasm.Shehandsmeawaterlikeit’ssecondnaturetoher,andIrealizeI’mstaringatherwithoutmeaningto.Hermascaraisslightlysmudgedbeneathhereyes;herskinisdampandglowing.Hercedarperfumeswirlsaroundus.
“CheerstotheFightingReindeer!”Honey-Belleyells.“We’redefinitelygonnawinthechampionshipthisyear!AndextracheerstoourMVP,ScottieZajac!”
I’veneverfeltsoimportantinallmylife.PeoplebangonmybackwithsuchforcethatIalmostdoubleover.IevengetakissontheheadfromGunther.Thecheeringhaltsaspeopleknockbacktheirdrinks.Thenthere’sclappingandshoutingandmorecongratulatoryhandsonme.
“Irene,showhersomelove!”Honey-Belleyells.
IturnwithaskipinmystomachtoseeIrenegapingatHoney-Belle,butitonlylastsforasecond.Shecentersherselfandpullsmeinforanobligatoryhug,thesmirkinhereyestellingmethatweshouldhaveexpectedasmuch.HerarmsgotightaroundmeandIprayshecan’tfeelmypulsebeatingagainstherwarmskin.
Butit’snotenoughforHoney-Belle.
“Ohcomeon,Irene,putsomefeelingintoit!”shechides.“Yourgirlfrienddestroyedthatgame!Doesn’tshedeserveakiss?”
Irenelooksblindsided.Myheartbeatsharderthanitdidonthecourt.
ThecrowdagreeswithHoney-Belle.They’reshoutingatIrenetoletloose,toshowmesomelove.Danielleisfrozenbetweenlaughterandshock.CharlottePascallookspoisonous.
“Forfuck’ssake,Irene!”Honey-Bellescreams.“Seizethedamnmoment!”
Ireneturnstome.There’sachallengeinhereyes,butaquestion,too.It’slikewe’rehavingawordlessconversation,andwhenIseehereyesflittomymouth,Iknowwhat’sgoingtohappenbeforeitdoes.
AndIdon’tstopit.
Irenepressesagainstme,wrapsherhandalongmyneck.IfeelitlikeI’veneverfeltanyone’stouchbefore.AllIcanseeareherdark,blazingeyes,sureandsteady,almostdefiant.
Shepullsmeinandkissesme.
Somethingsparksinmybelly,inmychest.HerkissisgentlerthanIwouldhaveexpected,butsofirm,too.Hermouthiswarmandsoft.Shetastesslightlyofsalt.
Irenepullsawayandsayssomethingtothecrowd,butI’minadaze.Mywholebodyiswarmandbuzzing.
TheonlythingmyeyescanfindisDanielle,standingtherewithherjawhanging,andIknowshecanreadthehonestyinmyface.Ilookawaybeforeshecanseeittooclearly.
Honey-Bellesquealswithdelight.ShewranglesIreneintoahugthatIrenetriestoresist.I’mawareofpeoplewatchingme,andIrememberI’msupposedtolookhappyandinlove.IforceasmileandpretendlikeIrenehaskissedmelikethisahundredtimesbefore.Justthethoughtofthatmakesmyheadspin.
WhenIrenefinallycatchesmyeye,there’ssomethinginherexpressionIhaven’tseenbefore.Iwanttoholditandturnawayfromitatthesametime.IoveremphasizemysmileandmanagetosayI’mgettinganotherdrink,butwhenIturnawayIfeelhereyesfollowingme.
Forthedozenthtimethisyear,IwishIcouldgohomewithanyoneelse.Buttonight,it’snotbecauseIhateher.
It’sbecauseIcannolongerdenythatIactuallylikeher.
“Ready?”Ireneasks,swingingherkeysaroundherfinger.It’sanervoustickthatdoesn’tfitwithherpersonaatall,andIwanttoteaseheraboutit,butthewordsgetstuckinmythroat.
There’sanunbearablemomentofsilencewhenwefirstslideintohercar,butsheswitcheshermusiconandplaysthevolumemuchlouderthanusual.It’saterriblesongthatI’mprettysureneitheroneofusactuallylikes.Webothdoalotofthroat-clearingandseat-shiftingaswewaitatthefirstredlight.
Itfeelsweirdtosaythere’sanykindofnormalwithIrene,butifwewerebeingnormalrightnow,we’dbulldozethroughthisawkwardness.We’dforcethesubjectofthekissintolife,evenifitfeltexcruciating.We’dgiveeachothershitabouthowweirdwe’rebothbeing.
Butsomethinghaschanged.It’sashiftIcanfeelintheairbetweenus.Iwantsobadlytogetbacktoourusualbanter,butmytongueisleadenagainstmyteeth.
It’snotuntilwe’reparkedinmydrivewaythatIrenebreaksthesilence.
“So…thatcouldhavebeenworse.”
Istareattheconsole.WhateverIthoughtshemightsay,itwasn’tthat.WasIhopingforsomethingrealer?
“Imean,”shecontinues,takingabreath,“Iguesstheyneededproofatsomepoint,especiallyafterCharlotte’sstupidantics.Plus,Honey-Belle’sthirstylikethat.”
“Right.”
Themusicplayson.Thecarhumsbeneathus.
“Um,”Irenesays.
Iglanceexpectantlyather.“Yeah?”
Sheblinksacrossthespacebetweenus.Ihatehowattractiveshelookswithherdarkeyesandfulllips.Ihatethatitmakesmyheartflutter.
“Youplayedgreattonight,”shesayswithahalfshrug.She’stryingtosounddetached,butIhearthetremorinhervoice.
“Thanks,”Imanagetosay.
“Diditfeelthewayyouhopeditwould?”
Whataquestion.IfantasizedaboutwinningtheChristmasClassicamilliontimes,butIneverenvisionedkissingIreneafterward.AndIcertainlyneverimaginedIwouldfeelanythingkissingher.
“Yeah,”Isaybreathlessly.“Itwasgreat.”
There’saloadedsilencebetweenus.Ican’tstanditanymore.“So…seeyoulater,”Isay,slidingoutofthecar.“Thanksforthe—thecheeringandeverything.”
“Goodnight,”shesays,tryingtofindmyeyes.“And,youknow,goodgame.”
It’saftermidnight,butmyfamilyisstillawake.Theywanttohearmoreaboutthegame,totellmeeveryworryandtriumphtheyfeltwhileIwasplaying,andforafewminutesitsuccessfullydistractsme.Ibaskinthewarmroutineofthefiveofusfloppedonthecouchtogether,ThorawithhersassandDaphnewithhergigglingandmyparentswiththeircheesyjokes.
ButthenmymomtellsmehowprettyIrenelookedatthegame,andmystomachloop-de-loopsinthemostsurprisingway.
“Yeah,shelookednice,”Isayvaguely.Itrynottofeeltheechoofherkiss,butmylipsaretinglingsomuchIswearthey’reprobablyswellinginplace.
“Youlooktired,Scots,”Dadsays.“Whydon’tyougetuptobedandrestthosesoremuscles?”
Idon’tfighthimonit.Upstairs,inthecooldarkofmybedroom,Islipbeneathmyquiltandscrollthroughmyphonetogetmymindoffthings.Theproblemis,theexactoppositehappens.OneoftheClevelandtripletshaspostedavideoofIrenekissingme.
Andwelook…good.Welookreal.Welooklikewefittogether.
Ifeelbreathlessalloveragain.
Butalmostlikeareflex,mynextthoughtgoestoTally.Shewillnodoubtseethis.Willitpierceherheart,thewaywatchingherkissthatgirlatCharlotte’spartypiercedmine?Willsheseethefeelingswrittenonmyface?WillshebelieveI’vetrulymovedonfromher?
ShouldIevenbethinkingaboutTallyanymore?
“Diditfeelthewayyouhopeditwould?”Ireneaskedmeinthecar.
Maybeitdidearliertonight,butitdoesn’tanymore.BecauseIdefinitelyneverexpectedthatonlyhoursafterbeatingCandlehawkintheChristmasClassic,Iwouldfallasleepcrying.
13
Holidaybreakbeginswitharainstorm.ItnevergetscoldenoughtosnowbeforeChristmas,butIguesssomethinghastofalldownfromthesky.Fortwodays,rainlashesthewindowsandpushesourinflatablesnowmandecorationsontothegrass.WestayindoorsandfeedourboredomwithChristmasmovies.Whenwegettiredofthat,Thorainsistswestagetheholidaycardshewantstosendfromherfamily.
“Youmeanourfamily?”Iask.
“No,ImeanPickles,BooBoo,andmyself.”
Shedressesingreenvelvetandloungesinfrontofthefireplacewiththecatsinherarms.DaphnecapturesthreewholephotosbeforePicklesscratcheshiswayfree.
Whentheweatherfinallyclears,DanielleandIgoshoppingforfamilygifts.Daphnetagsalong,whichI’mgratefulfor,becauseitmeansDaniellewon’thaveachancetoaskaboutIrene.Wemakeourwayaroundtown,hittingupthemall,thebookstore,andBalthazar’sAntiques.NoneofussuggeststreadingintoCandlehawk.
“IsThoraworkingtoday?”Danielleasksafterwedipintoabeautystoreforsomebathbombs.“WeshouldgobyTheChimney.I’mcravingtheirfriedpickles.”
“Icouldgoforavirginpi?acolada,”Daphnesays.“Shoppingisstressful.Ineedsomethingtotaketheedgeoff.”
“Yes,ma’am,”Isay,slingingmyarmaroundhershoulders.Truthbetold,I’vebeenoverthisshoppingthingforatleastanhour.I’vealreadypickedoutpresentsforMom,Dad,andThora,andnoweverythingIseeisstartingtoremindmeofeitherTallyorIrene.Ican’tbuyagiftforeitheroneofthem,thoughforvastlydifferentreasons.
Weslipintothewarm,bustlingtavernthatisTheChimneyjustasthelunchhouriswindingdown.Thoraspotsusandsignalstothehostesstoputusinourfavoritebooth,theonebythejukebox.Weslideintothehigh-backedboothandhaveabasketoffriedpicklesdeliveredwithintwominutes.
“Thora’sthebest,”Daniellesays,devouringthesnack.“Shealwaysknowsexactlywhatwewant.”
“She’speople-smart,”Daphnesaysastutely.“That’swhatMomsays.”
“HowdidImissthatgene?”Iask.
“You’repeople-smart,”Daniellesays.“Maybenot,like,onaThoralevel,butyou’reprettysufficient.”
“Aringingendorsement.Thankyou.”
Danielleshrugs.“IreneistheonlypersonIknowwho’sactuallyonparwithThora.”
Isaynothing,tryingtokeepmyexpressionneutral.
“IsthatwhyThoradoesn’tlikeher?”Daphneasks.
Ilookaround.“Didshesaythat?”
“Um.”Daphne’searsturnred—agenemysistersandImostdefinitelyshare.“Imean,Ithinkshe’sjustprotectiveofyou.”
“Thoradoesn’tlikeanyoneIdate,”Igrumble.
Asifoncue,Thoraappearsoutofnowhere,carryingtwononalcoholicpi?acoladasforDaphne.“DidIhearmyname?”
“No,”Isay,avoidinghereyes.
“We’retalkingaboutScottie’slovelife,”Daniellesays.Igloweratheracrossthepicklebasket.
“Ahyes,herlovelife,”Thorasays.
“Whydoyouhavetosayitlikethat?”Iask.
“BecauseI’mnotsureitinvolvesactuallove?”
Myfaceburns.Igrindmyteethandtrynottolosemytemper.
“NotevenwithIrene?”Daphneasks.Hersmilebecomesmischievous.“Myfriend’ssistershowedusthatvideoofherkissingyouattheEmporium.Itwassoromantic.”
“Thatwas…whatever,”Isay,keenlyawareofThora’seyesonme.
“Wasitromantic?”Daphneasksbreathlessly.
“No,”IsayshortlyatthesametimethatDaniellesays,“Yes.”Iflat-outglareather,butshestaresdefiantlyback.
“Ijustdon’twantScottietogethurt,”Thorasayspointedly.
“Irene’snotgoingtohurther,”Daniellesays.
“CanwepleasestoptalkingaboutmelikeI’mnotsittingrighthere?”
ThoraandDaniellesettle,bothofthemsighing.Daphnepatsmybackandslidesoverherextrapi?acolada.
“Drinkup,”shesaysknowingly.“Itwillsettleyournerves.”
Iinhalethesugarydrinkandlettheirconversationwashoverme.Mybodyfeelsalloutofwhack,likemyemotionsaresumowrestlingeachother.Idon’tcarehowmuchDaniellebringsherup:Idon’twanttotalkaboutIrene.It’sjusttooconfusing.HowcanIbecrushingonherandgrievingTallyatthesametime?Becausethat’swhatthisis:grief.ImayhavethoughtIwasfinallygettingoverTally,especiallywiththehighIwasonfrombasketball,butkissingIrenebroughtarushofheartachetothesurface.HerkisswasthefirstoneI’vehadsincemybreakup,andeventhoughitwasgreat,itwasdifferent.Itmadeallthesefeelingsfloodback.
IjustwishIcouldboxupmynewfeelingsforIrene,tagtheboxwithDonotopenuntilbreakupgriefisover,andstoreitinmyattic,outofsightandoutofmind.Imean,I’mnotevensurethesefluttersofexcitementI’mfeelingareacrush.I’mnotthinkingaboutIreneallthetimelikeIdidwithTally.I’mnotobsessivelycheckinghersocialmedia.Imissher,butI’mnotburstingoutofmyskinwithlongingforher.Ihaven’teventalkedtoherindays.Isthatnormal?
Andbeneaththeseconfusingfeelings,there’sameanlittlevoicethatpipesupwheneverIimaginekissingIreneagain.AvoicethatisdeeplyintertwinedwiththesameinsecurityTallybroughtoutinme.
Irenehadyourcartowed.Shehumiliatedyou.Shestoodtherecallouslywhileyoucried.
HowcanIpossiblyreconcilehavingacrushonsomeonewhobulliedme?Whatdoesitsayaboutmyself-worththatI’mdrawntogirlswhohurtme?
OnChristmasEvenight,mysistersbundleupintheirpeacoatswhileIthrowonthefleeceIinsistiswarmenougheventhoughit’snot.Momwearsherbeautifulcream-coloredcoatandDadsportshisoldbrownjacketthatsmellslikepeppermint.WetraipseoutofthehouseandbeginourwalktowardSaintGabriel’sforthevigilMass.Theairiscrispandstill,justcoldenoughtofeelromantic.
DaphnepointsouttheChristmaswreathsontheneighbors’doors.MomandDadhuffattheHaliburton-Riveras’notionofdecorating,whichisalone,ceramiccandycanehangingintheirfoyerwindow.ThorasnapsapictureofMomstickingouthertongue.
WeturnontothemainroadandwalkpastIrene’sneighborhood.Itrynottothinkabouther,butit’sliketryingnottopicturethecolorred.
Thechurchisjustbeginningtofillupwhenwearrive.PoinsettiaslinetheentrywayandawoodenNativitysceneadornsthealtar.Thechurchsmellslikeincenseandoldladies’perfume,andtherumblingofvoicesishappyandwarm.Weslideintoanemptypewtowardthebackandtugoffourjackets.
“Ohlook,ReginaGeorgeishere,”Thorasaysdryly.
“What?”
Ifollowhergazetotheoppositesideofthechurch.Ireneiskneelinginapewwithherfamily,wearingajadesweaterwithherdarkhairfallingovertheside.Mybloodwarms;mybreathcatches.
“Didn’tyouknowshewouldbehere?”Thoraasks.
“Ididn’tevenknowwewenttothesamechurch.”
“Let’sthrowsomeholywateronher.Maybeshe’llburstintoflames.”
Irenemustfeelmelooking,becausesheturnsherheadandmeetsmyeyes.Ifeelmyselfblushing,butIdon’tlookaway.Shesmirksandraisesasinglepalmtosayhi.
Iraisemypalminreturn.ThenIbowmyheadandmimeprayingverysolemnly.Evenfromacrossthechurch,Icanseeherrollinghereyes.
WhenMassends,I’meagertoleavesoIcancatchIreneintheparkinglot.I’vespentthelasttenminutesthinkingaboutwhatI’llsay.Imightbeconfusedaboutmyfeelingsforher,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mgonnamissmychancetowishheramerryChristmas.
Ishootalookatmyparents,wonderingwhenthey’llbereadytoleave,butthey’rebellowingthelastverseof“Hark!TheHeraldAngelsSing”liketheirlivesdependonit.Finally,oncethechoirfinishesandthemajorityofpeoplehaveleft,MomandDadpickuptheircoatsandgestureforustoleave.I’msoantsythatI’mbouncingontheballsofmyfeet.
Ineedn’thaveworried,though.Thesecondwegetoutside,Ifeelatugatmyelbow.
“Didn’tknowyouweresointoChristmashymns,”Irenesays.She’sstandingalone,herfamilynowhereinsight.Herlipstickshinesagainsttheexteriorlights.
Iblink,tryingtofindmyvoice.“Iamverydevout.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Couldn’tyoufeelmyprayerswaftingtowardyou?DearGod,pleaseblessmyruthlessenemyonChristmas,evenifsheisacheerleader…”
“Hmm.Iguessmyprayerforyoutogetabettersenseofhumordidn’twork.”Hereyestwinkleastheyroamovermyface.“Listen.Doyouwanttodrivearoundandlookatlights?”
“Oh.Um.”I’msuddenlyflustered.Forsomereason,mymindgetscaughtonthelogistics.“Idon’thavemycar.Wewalkedhere.”
“Ihavemine.”HereyestakeonthatchallenginglookshehadattheEmporiumafter-party.“Wecouldgethotchocolate.Mytreat.”
Myfamilyiswatchingusnow.Thorahasherarmscrossed,butDaphnelooksstarstruck.MomandDadarebeaming.
“Hi,Irene!”Momsays.
Nowit’sIrene’sturntobeflustered.“Ohhey,hi!Greattoseeyou.MerryChristmas.FelizNavidad.Happyholidays.”
“You’rebabbling,”Isayundermybreath.
Shelookspointedlyatme.“Hotchocolate?”
“Um—yes.Mom,Dad?”
“Behomebymidnight,”Momsays,winking.
“Enjoyyourromanticwinterwonderland!”Dadsays,butI’malreadytuggingIrene’shandandleadingheraway.
“Sorryaboutthem,”Imutter.
“Ilovethem,”shesayseasily.
Somehowwe’restillholdinghands.Idrophersandclearmythroat.Wetuckourselvesintohercar,wheresheblaststheheatandturnsonmyseatwarmer.Itfeelsfamiliarandnewatthesametime.
“Ididn’tknowyouwereCatholic,”Isayaswepulloutofthechurchparkinglot.
“Ididn’tknowyouwere,either.”
“Bothsidesofthefamily.IrishandPolish.”
“Bothsidesforme,too.MygrandparentsarefromKerala.”
“Cool,”Isay,thoughIhavenoideawhatthatmeans.
Shesmirksbecausesheknowsit.“How’sthatAPEuropeanHistoryworkingoutforyou?”
“Shutup.I’lldosomeGooglinglater.”
AtSweetNoelle’s,sheswingsaroundthedrive-throughandorderstwohotchocolateswithwhippedcream.
“Icanpayformine—”Isay.
“Don’tstart,”shesays,pullingoutherwallet.Hervoiceisalmosttender,butsheclearsherthroatandcorrectsit.“Ihaveextracashrightnow.Somenerdispayingmetodateher.”
“Ha,ha.”Ican’tsayanythingelsebecauseshe’scatchingmyeyewithasmirkthatcanonlybedescribedasflirtatious,andIfeellikemystomachisfullofsunbeams.
“DoyouknowthebeststreetforChristmaslights?”Ireneasks.She’sdrivingwithonehand,sippingfromherhotchocolatewiththeother.HernailsarepaintedaperfectSantaClausred.IwonderwhatwouldhappenifIreachedacrosstheconsoleandtookherhandagain.
“Idonot,”Isay,tryingtostaycool.
“Well,luckyforyou,Ido.”
Weendupontheothersideoftown,closetothesquare.Irenewindsthecardownonestreet,thenanother,incompletecontrolofwherewe’regoing.Ipictureherfamilydrivingouthereeveryyeartoseethelights.Isitasacredtraditionforthem?Hassheshareditwithanyoneelse?DidshebringCharlottehere?
“Checkitout,”shesays,turningontothefinalstreet.
We’rebombardedbyastraightrowofChristmaslights,sobrightthattheroaditselfislitupfromthereflection.Atleastadozenhousesareinonthemagic,someofthemdrapedinbright,solidgold,othersbedazzledwithflashingcoloredbulbs.It’soverstimulatinginthebestway.
“Wow,”Isay,leaningforwardinmyseat.“DoesHoney-Belleknowthisexists?”
“Whodoyouthinkshowedme?”
“Should’veknown.It’stotallyherbrand.”
Irenelaughscontentedly.“ThisiswhyIloveGrandmaEarl.Wedowhatwewantwithzeropretenseaboutit.”
Ilookoverather.“Noteveryonefeelsthatway.”
“Theyshould.”Shesaysitwithherusualconviction,hereyesonthedazzlingdisplayinfrontofus.“Thisplaceisspecial.Thepeoplearespecial.Ifeeliteverytimewecheeratafootballgame.”Sheglancesatme.“Oragirls’basketballgame.”
“Wellplayed.”
Shepretendstobow.It’ssocorny,sounlikeher,thatIlaughoutloud.
Weinchthecarforward,takingineachhouseaswepass.IrenedecidesherfavoriteisthetwinklingranchhousewithCharlieBrowncutoutsthatappeartobeiceskating.Mineisablindingtwo-storywithreindeersilhouettesacrosstheroof.Theradioplays“LastChristmas”byWham!andwereachtoturnitupatthesametime.OurfingersbrushandIfeeltheelectricityonourskin,radiantenoughtopowerthisstreetfulloflights
“Areyouinanyrushtogethome?”Ireneasksaswe’redrivingback.
“No,why?”
“Let’sstopatmyhouseforaminute.Igotyousomething.”
Myheartbeatsfaster.“Likeagift?”
“No,likeanthrax.”Sheside-eyesme.“Yes,agift.”
Weparkinherdriveway,aplaceI’vebeenmanytimes,andwalkintoherhome,aplaceI’veonlywonderedabout.Adisjointedpartofmybrain,theonethatlivesinanalternateuniversewherenoneofthiseverhappened,cannotprocesswhatI’mdoinghere,sneakingintoIreneAbraham’shouseonChristmasEve.
Thehouseiswarmandsoftlit.Thecolorschemeisdifferentfrommyfamily’shome:moresepiaandtangerine,woodtonesandmarblesurfaces.There’sanornatekitchenchestwithaporcelainelephantcenterpiece.Icounttwoespressomachinesonthecounter.Irenepullsoffherbootsandplacesthemonashoeracknearthedoor,thengesturesformetodothesame.AgoldenretrieverpadsoverandIrenekneelsdowntorubherears.
“Hi,Mary.”
Ilaugh.“Yourdog’snameisMary?”
Sherollshereyes.“MybrothernamedherwhenhewaslearningabouttheNativity.Mydadcallsher‘HolyMary,motherofDog.’”
“I’mobsessedwithyourdad.Thatbomberjackethewaswearingatchurch?Iconic.”
Shewatchesmeforamoment.“Comeseethetree.”
Shetugsonmywristbutquicklyletsgo.Ifollowherintothefamilyroom,whereshesitsonherfeetnexttotheglowingChristmastree.Ihesitatebeforedroppingdownnexttoher.
“It’sfake,”shesays.“Mymomgottiredoftheneedles.”
“Beautiful,though.”
Itouchmyfingertoagoldenlight.It’swarm,thenitburns.Ireachforanornamentinstead.It’shandmadefromconstructionpaper.Thekindofthingakidbringshomefromschool.
“Ohmygod,”Imutter,findingthefadedphotogluedtothemiddle.“Pleasetellmethisisyou.”
“Ofcourseit’sme.Lookatthatstylegame.”
LittleIrenewearsasparklyheadband,polka-dotsweater,andtoothlessgrin.Shemightbesixorsevenyearsold.There’snoscarinhereyebrow,buthereyesareexactlythesame.
“Enoughofthat,”Irenesayswithaself-consciouslaugh.“Here.”
Shehandsmeaperfectlywrappedbox.IripthepaperasgentlyasIcan,acutelyawareofherwatchingme.WhenIopenthecaseinside,Ifindablack,thick-bandedwristwatchintheexactstyleIwouldchooseformyself.
“I—”
“Ikeptthereceiptincaseyoudon’tlikeit.”
“No,Iloveit,”Isaybreathlessly.“Idon’thaveawatch.”
“Iknow.”Hertoneshiftstosomethingmorefamiliar.“Ithoughtyoucouldusesomethingtohelpyourunontime.”
Hereyesaredancing.Imeantolookawayfromthem,butthechanceforthatpasses.I’mlookingatherandshe’slookingatmeandit’sfartoolatetopretendotherwise.
Shebitesherlip.“Well—let’sseehowitlooks.”
Shewrapsthewatcharoundmywrist.Herfingersonmyskinarefire.I’veneverstoppedtonoticeourhandstogether,thecontrastofskintones,theinterplayofherpolishedringsandmybitten-downfingernails.Shehasawhitescarnearherknucklethatshinesasclearlyastheoneonhereyebrow.Withoutthinking,Ibrushmythumboverit.
“Curlingiron,”shesays.“Seventhgrade.”Shetwinesourfingerstogether.
“Myhandsaresweaty,”Iwhisper,likeI’mtryingtogiveherareasontoletgo.
“Noshit,”shesayswiththatsparkleinhereyes.
Istareathermouth.Iwantsobadlytoleanin,butwherewouldthatlead?Whatwoulditmean?
“Scottie,”shesayssoftly.“Don’toverthinkit.”
“Overthinkwhat?”
“Kissingme.”
Ilaughunexpectedly,becauseit’sthemostIrene-ishpresumptionever.“God,you’recocky.”
“I’mright.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyouwantmetosay.”
“Sayyou’llgoonadatewithme.Arealdate.”
Ithangsthereintheairbetweenus.Isearchhereyesandsheletsme.ThesincerityinthemscaresmesomuchthatIhavetolookaway.
“Scottie.”Hervoiceisawhisper.“Ilikeyou.It’scrazyandunexpected,butthereitis.Somethingisworkinghere.”
“Youcan’tlikeme.That’snot…we’renot…”
“What?”
Ishakemyhead.“Thiswholethingstartedbecausewehatedeachother,andthenwegotintoacaraccidentandIpaidyoutobemygirlfriend.”
“Yeah,it’llmakeagreatstoryforourkids.Willyoulightenup?We’reallowedtolikeeachother.”
Iturnmyheadaway.“Idon’tgetit.Youcouldhaveanyone.”
“Socouldyou,asshole,”shesays.“Whydoesanyonelikeanyone?Wejustdo.It’sprettysimple.”
“ButI’m—I’ma—”
“Ginger?”Shetsks.“Yeah,it’ssurprisingtome,too,butIdidhaveathingforAnneofGreenGablesinsecondgrade.”
Ilaughoutloud.“Shutup.”
Shesmiles.It’sopenandearnestandwanting.“IlovewhenIgetyoutolaugh.”
Welookateachotheragain.Myheartisdrummingbeneathmysweater.Ireneinchesforwardtheslightestbit,andsodoI,andwehesitateforonlyamoment.
“Don’toverthinkit,”shewhispersagain.
Ourmouthsfindeachothereasily.It’sjustasamazingasthekissattheEmporium,butthistime,it’sonlyforus.Shelaysherhandalongmyjawandkissesmelikeshemeansit,andIambreathlessandweightlessanddizzyattheveryfactofher.Lipsandtongueandteeth,herhairandherskinandherperfume,butmorethananything,herveryessence,herfireandflawsandthatsteelydeterminationtobebetter,toalwaysbebetter.
Idon’tletmyselfthinkaboutthethingsstillunresolved:thetowtruckandhercrueltyandthehurtIcan’treconcile.Butevenmoretangledthanthat,thepainI’vebeencarryingthathasnothingtodowithIreneandeverythingtodowiththelastgirlIlovedandthecratersheleftinsideme.
“Areyouokay?”Ireneasks.
Ipullbackandpawthetearsoffmycheeks.“Sorry.Just—stupidemotions.”
Hereyesflickerintheglowofthetreelights.“Doyouwannatalkitout?”
Wehoverontheedgeofsomething.It’ssoquietIcanhearmynewwatchticking.
“CanIaskyousomething?”Isay.“AreyouoverCharlotte?”
Shetiltsherhead,searchingme.Iwonderifshecanseethetruthonmyface:thatIwanthertosayno.IwanttoknowI’mnotaloneinthispain,thisconfusion.Iwanttoknowsheunderstandshowitfeelstobefallinginnewloveandbleedingfromoldloveatthesametime.
“Yeah,Iam.”Shebrushesmyhairbackfrommyforehead,hertouchexceedinglygentle.“Butyou’renotoverTally,areyou?”
Myeyesburnwithmoretears.IgivehertheonlytruthIcan.“Iwanttobe.”
Sheswallowsandnodssolemnly.“Whatdoyouneed?”
“I’mnotsure.”
“Sitwithitforasecond.”
Webreatheinthestillness.Myemotionsarecrashingallovertheplace.Itracemyfingeroverhercurlingironscaragain,butbeforeshecantakemyhand,Ipullaway.
“Canyoudrivemehome?”
Irene’sfacefalls.“Yeah,ofcourse.”
Shegivesmeahandoffthefloor.Wekeepquietaswetugonourshoes,buttonourcoats,petMarygoodnight.Wegetbackintohercarandmakethethirty-seconddrivetomyhouse.
“Scottie,”IrenesayswhenImovetogetoutofthecar.
“Yeah?”
“Takeallthetimeyouneed.Everything’sgonnabeokay.”
IgiveherthebravestsmileIcanmuster.I’mnotsurewhenI’llseeheragain.“MerryChristmas,Abraham.”
Shesmilessadlyback.“MerryChristmas,Zajac.”
14
MysisterswakemeuponChristmasmorningbyplacingBooBooandPicklesonmychest.Atfirst,comingoutofmysleepystate,allIfeelisthepleasantpressureofcatpaws.ButthenPicklestriestoputhisbuttonmyface.
“Ugh!Comeon!”Iyell,throwingoffthecovers.Picklesdartsawayandhidesundermydesk.BooBoostaysonthebed,lickinghispaws.
“MerryCatsmas!”Daphnesays.“DoyouthinkSantaPawscame?”
“That’sright,BooBoo,wedon’tletanyonescareusaway,”Thorasays,pettinghimwherehelayssprawledonmyextrapillow.“Comeon,Scots,timetoopenpresents!”
“Notinthemoodyet,”Isay,turningawayfromthem.“Letmesleep.”
Idon’twanttogetupandfacetheday,notwhenI’mstillheartsorefromlastnight,butmysisterspracticallywrenchmefromthebed.DaphnejamsaSantahatonmyheadandthetwoofthemleadmedownstairs,whereMomandDadaresippingcoffeeinmatchingpajamas.
“Howcutedowelook?”Dadsays,spreadinghisarmssoIcanseetheelfprintonhisgreenpajamatop.
“MerryChristmas,honey!”Momsays,wrappingmeinahug.“DidyouandIrenehavefunlastnight?Didyoukissundersomemistletoe?”
Mycheeksflush,butnotforthereasontheythink.
“Youmakeapreciouscouple,”Dadsays.“Nextyearwe’llgetyoumatchingpajamas,too.”
“Canwestop?”MytoneissourevenifIdon’twantittobe.IfeellikeIcouldcryanymoment.
“Here,youlittlebrat,”Thorasays,pressingamugofcoffeeandacinnamoncookieintomyhand.“Chugthat.TurnyourGrinchyfrownupsidedown.”
Weopenpresentsinturns.Daphnegaspsoverherfirstperfume,agiftfromThoraandme.MomsquealsoveranewgardeninghatDadpickedoutforher.Thoraactuallytearsupwhensheunwrapsthehand-knitbonnetsDaphnemadeforPicklesandBooBoo.
WhenIpickoutabig,lumpypresent,Momleansforwardinherarmchair.“Ooh,thisisourfavorite!”
Ishredthepaperopentorevealavintagedenimjacket,copperbuttonsandall,withawhitefleeceliningalongthetop.
“Wow,”Isay,runningmyhandoverit.“Ireallylove—”
“Turnitaround!”Dadsays.
Thebackisembroideredwithacartoonbasketball.Incursivescript,thewordsIBounceBackflowaroundit.
“Wehaditcustommade!”Momsays.
“Isn’titcute,Scottie?”ThorasaysinavoicethatmeansDon’tbursttheirbubble
Itracemyfingersovertheembroideredscript.Tomyembarrassment,mythroatgrowsthickandmyeyeswellup.ThetearsdropbeforeIcanhidethem.
“Scottie?”Momsays.“Areyouokay,sweetheart?”
IttakeseverythingIhavetogetmyselfundercontrol.IwillnotruinChristmasmorningbyadmittingmyresiliencehasbeenafacade,thatIliterallyboughtthisconfidencetheykeepcongratulatingmefor.
“I’mjustverytouched.Thankyou,guys.”
MomandDadbeamateachother.Mysisterstradeacuriouslook,buttheydon’tsayanything.Iforceasmileandpullthejacketonovermypajamashirt.Itfitsalmostperfectly.
ThelastthreedaysofDecemberarewhentheEarl-HewettsknockdownthepriceoftheirChristmasinventory,soDanielleandImakeplanstoshopthediscountaislesattheEmporium.We’rehalfwaydownthespecialtyaisle,distractedbyaHanukkahsweaterGunthermightlike,whenshesayssomethingthatstartlesme.
“So…IsawHoney-BelleattheMunnylastnight,andshetoldmeyouandIrenearetakingabreak.”
Hertoneisheavy,likeshe’sbeenwaitingtodropthisallafternoon.Theairbetweenuschangesimmediately.IlowertheHanukkahsweaterandstruggletomeethereyes.
“Areyoureallygonnamakemetalkaboutthis?”Iask.“Here?”
“Yes.”Shetakesthesweaterfrommeandplacesitbackontheshelf.“What’sgoingon?Ithoughtyoulikedher.Andsheobviouslylikesyou,too.”
Iswallow.“Idolikeher.”
“But?”
Iknowshe’snotgoingtolikethispart.“ButI’mstilltryingtogetoverTally.”
Daniellescrunchesherface.“Really?Still?”
“Canyounotshamemeforthis,please?I’mtryingtobehonestwithyou.”Myvoiceshakes.“Iknowyouhateher.Iknoweveryonedoes.I’mtryingtohateher,too.ButIcan’t.”
Islidetothefloor,pullingmynewdenimjacketcuffsovermyhands.Thelinoleumtileiscoolbeneathmypants.
Danielleslidesdownnexttome.Westareaheadtothesnowglobesdisplayinfrontofus.“You’reright.Thatwasinsensitive.I’msorry.”Shepauses.“Idon’thateTally.Ijusthatethewayshe’smadeyoufeel.Ihatethateverythingyou’vedoneforthelastfewmonthshasbeenaresponsetoher.It’slikeyou’renotevenyourfullselfanymore.You’rejustthis…reaction.”
ShesoundslikeThora.You’vebeenawalkinginsecurity…Ikeepmygazeonthesnowglobesandtrytounclenchmyjaw.“Wow,D,greatpeptalk.Thankssomuch.”
Hereyesboreintothesideofmyhead.“I’mnottryingtogiveyouapeptalk.I’mtryingtogiveyouthetruth.”
“Youwannatalkabouttruth?”Iroundonher.“Fine.Let’sgothere.Let’stalkaboutKevin.”
Hereyesbugouttheslightestbit.“That’snotathing.”
“It’sabsolutelyathing.”
“Kevin’sourfriend.Ican’tjusthavefeelingsforhimoutofnowhere.”
“Youabsolutelycan,you’rejustnotlettingyourself.Youhaveliterallyeverythinggoingforyou.You’rethecaptainofourteam,youhaveamazinggrades,andyou’regettingacceptedtoamillioncolleges,butyou’reholdingbackwhenitcomestoKevineventhoughheobviouslylikesyou,too.”
“Youdon’tknowthathelikesme,”sheshootsback.
“Noneofusaregonnaknowuntilyouaskhimout.Stopbeingsoafraid.”
“Don’tlectureme,dude.”
“You’vebeenlecturingme!”
Ourvoiceshavegottenheated.Wepullawayfromeachother,huffing.Danielle’sbreathingisloudandangry.Ican’tstopgrindingmyteeth.
“Look,”Daniellesaysfinally,hertoneevenagain.Shecrossesherskinnyankles.“You’reright.I’mchickenshitwhenitcomestoKev.Idon’tknowhowtodothis.I’mnotgoodatthingsthatdon’tcomenaturallytome.”
Thatmakesmelaugh,whichbreakssomeofthetension.“What?”
“Dating!”shesays.“I’mnotgoodatdating!Schooliseasy.Basketballiseasy.Collegeapplicationsareactuallyfun.ButhowthehellamIsupposedtofigureoutromancewhenitfeelslikeaforeignfuckinglanguage?”
“Ohmygod.”Ican’thelpmyself;I’mstilllaughing.“You’retotallythatoverachievingnerdwhodoesn’tknowhowtobebadatsomething.”
Shedragsahanddownherface.“Shutup.”
“Howcansomeonebebadatdating,Danielle?”
“It’sbeenhardforyou,hasn’tit?Idon’twannagethurtlikethat.”
Thatshutsmeup.Wegobacktostaringatthesnowglobes.Anolderwomaninapurplebeadednecklaceskirtsbyuswithhershoppingcart,smilinglikeit’scompletelynormalthatwe’resittingonourassesinthemiddleoftheEmporiumaisle.
“I’msorry,”Daniellesaysagain.“It’sjust…sometimesitseemslikedatingTallyturnedyouintosomeoneyou’renot.Youwerealwayssosureofeverything,andthensuddenlyyouweren’t.”
“Yeah,”Iagree,droppingmyheadintomyhands.I’mnotmadanymore.Iknowshe’sright.“Thattracks.”
“Youdounderstandthatshe’sbadforyou,right?Imean,like,youcanobjectivelyseethat?”
Mychestissuddenlyheavy.“Idon’tknowhowtoletgoofher.”
“That’sbecauseshe’smadeitimpossibleforyoutomoveon,”Daniellesaysgently.Shepauses.“Butyou’vemadeitimpossible,too.”
Ilookather.Webothhavebrowneyes,butDanielle’shavealwaysbeenadeepershade,moresolidthanmywatered-downcolor.Seeingthemnowmakesmefeelsafe.
“WhatdoIdo?”
“Youcutthecord,”shesayssimply.“Whateverthatmeanstoyou.Ifyouhavetoblockhernumber,doit.Ifyouhavetowriteanangryletterandburnit,doit.Butyouhavetoletgo,dude.”
Mythroatthickensthewayit’sbeendoingtheselastfewdays.“Idon’tknowifIcan.It’slike…I’mholdingontothisshredofher,andeventhoughit’sabadshred,it’sstillsomething.ThemomentIletthatshredgo,I’llhavenothingleft.”
Daniellescootscloser.Shekickshersneakersagainstmine.“You’llhavenothingleftofher,butyou’llhaveyourself,Scottie.”
Ibreathein,breatheout.Myknee-jerkresponseistosayMyselfisn’tenough,butIcan’tvoicethataloud.Idon’twantmybestfriend’spityandIdon’twanttoburdenherwithmygrief.It’snotherjobtofilltheholeinsidemyheart.
“Comeon,”Isay,standingup.“Let’sgetacoffee.WepromisedTeddyaSweetNoelle’spastry.”
IcantellDanielleisconcernedaboutme,butshedoesn’tpushit.Idon’tbringuptheKevinthing,either.WegetinhercarandplayourfavoriteeightiesandninetiesballadsplaylistonthewaytoSweetNoelle’s,butI’mnotreallythere.I’mdeepinmyhead,tryingtofigureouthowtoletgoofTally.
Ican’trememberthelasttimeIdroveintoCandlehawk.Probablyoverthesummer,whenTallywantedtotrythatpop-uprestaurantthatsoldoverpricedramen.Icruisedowntheirpristinestreets,knowingmyhand-me-downJettalooksoutofplace.Thetownshipisbeautifullydecoratedfortheholidayswithstringlightsacrossthesquareandsilverwreathsonthelampposts.It’selegant,tasteful,picture-perfect.TheexactoppositeofthestreetinGrandmaEarlwhereIrenetookmetoseethelights.
I’mnotsurewheretoparkwhenIdriveintothehighschoollot.Everythingseemssoformalandstructured.There’sasecurityguarddrivingaroundonagolfcart,buthedoesn’tsayanythingwhenIparkinarandomspacenearthefront.Themarqueeisalmostatwinofours,exceptthemessagereadsWINTERRESPITE—PLEASEENJOY.Ihaveasudden,mischievousurgetomesswithit,butIdon’twantthesecurityguardtocatchme.It’snotwhyI’mhere,anyway.
ThebasketballgamehasalreadystartedbythetimeIgetinside.Iplanneditthatway.Idon’twantTallytonoticeme.
ThestandsarepackedwithCandlehawkfans.It’smorecrowdedthanIexpected,evenonNewYear’sEve.Isneakupthesideofthebleachers,pastawell-groomedfamilyandacollegeguywithahandlebarmustache.Noonebatsaneyeatme,whichisexactlywhatIwant.Forthefirsttimeinmonths,Ihavenoroletoplay.IamfreetosithereandsimplywatchthegirlIusedtolove.I’mnotsurethisiswhatDaniellehadinmindwhenshetoldmetodowhateverittakestocutthecord,butthisiswhatIneed,soit’swhatI’mdoing.
Tally’shairispartedintwinbraids.Irememberamorningatherhouse,sittingonherbedinourpajamas,tellingfunnystorieswhileherfingersinstinctivelybraidedhercurls.Thoseweremyfavoritemomentswithher:WhenIhadglimpsesintothesoft,simple,privateTallywhowasn’tawareofherhabitsandquirks.Theversionofherthatcouldjustbe
She’splayingwelltoday.NotthebestI’veseenherdo,butstillastrongperformance.Shesinksafewshotsandsnagsacoupleofrebounds.Shelookscompletelyathome,andIremember,withabittersweetpang,thatsheis.
WhenthegameendswithadecisivewinforCandlehawk,Islipdownthebleachersandloiteroffthesideofthecourt.Tallyandherteammatesareshakinghandswiththeiropponents.Theylingerafterward,tellingjokeswhiletheychugtheirwaterbottles.It’snotuntiltheyheadofftotheirlockerroomthatTallynoticesme.
Shestopsinhertracks.IstayplantedwhereIam,handsatmysides,waiting.I’mnotsureshe’llcometome.Iknowit’sherchoicetomake.ButifshefeelsanyounceoftheconnectionthatIstillfeel,Iknowshewon’tbeabletostayaway.
Whenshefinallyheadsinmydirection,IletoutthebreathI’vebeenholding.Shelopestowardmeinthateasy,languidwayshehas.Somethingtugsatmychest.
“Hi,”Isay,hopingIsoundmoresurethanIfeel.
“Hi,”shesayshesitantly.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Shestaresatmewiththosestrikingblueeyes,theonesthatmademefeelseenandknownandlovedlikeI’dneverbeenbefore.Myheartthumps.Mybreathcatches.It’sbeenmonths,butthesadnessstillhitsmelikeaviolentwave.IthoughtI’dpulledmyselfoutofthewater,especiallyafterbeatingherintheChristmasClassic.TurnsoutIwasjustsurfingbetweenstorms.
Tally’sexpressionsoftens.Sheknowsmewellenough—shewillalwaysknowmewellenough—tounderstandthethingsIcannotsay.
“Needingclosure?”sheasks.
Iswallow.“Somethinglikethat.”
Shestudiesme.Ilether.
“Comeon,”shesaysfinally,gesturingformetofollowher.“Thebackupgymisprobablyfree.”
Intheauxiliarygym,whichisunsurprisinglynicerthanGrandmaEarl’smaingym,weshootfreethrowsandlayups.Tallyisstillwarmfromthegame,butittakesmeafewminutestopickuptherhythm.I’mhyperawareofeverymovementshemakes,everyflickofhereyes,everytwitchofhersmile.
“YouplayedreallygreatintheChristmasClassic,”shesayssuddenly.“Youwere,like,onfire.Itwasincredibletowatch.”
Thecomplimentshootsthroughmelikeablastofheat.Itfeelslikewhenwefirststarteddating,wheneverythingshesaidmademefeelspecialenoughtohangthemoon.
“Thanks.Youweregreat,too.”
Shesmileswryly.“No,Iwasn’t.”Hereyesflitovermyface.“Ialwayslovedthatintensesideofyou.IwishI’dseenitmorewhenweweretogether.”
Myinsidescoolasquicklyastheyhadwarmed.Howdoesshealwaysmanagetoturnacomplimentintoadagger?WhydoIlether?Andwhydoesn’titgivemeastrongenoughreasontostayaway?
“Youdidseeit,”Itellher.“Youjustdidn’talwayslikeit.”
Hermouthhardens.We’rebothquiet,andI’mreadytocallitquitsbeforeI’veevengottenwhatIneeded.
Butthenshepassesmetheballandsays,“ImissGrandmaEarl,youknow.”
Ithrusttheballbacktoher.“Youstilllivethere.”
“Yeah,butImean…ourschool.Imissit.Imissthepeople.”
Ourschool.Shesoundsgenuine.Idon’tknowwhattomakeofit.“IthoughtyouhatedGrandmaEarl.”
Sheshootsafreethrow.Misses.“IthoughtIdid,too.”
Igrabthereboundandholdittomystomach.Shemeetsmyeyes.There’sameeknessinherexpressionIhaven’tseeninawhile.Thesoftsidesheusedtorevealonlytome.
Ipasstheballbacktoher.“Howaboutweplaysomething?P-I-G?”
“Okay.”
Sheshootsfirst:aneasyshotjustbelowthebasket.Theballsinksin.Istepuptotakethesameshot.Theballbouncesontherimandtipsin.
Hernextshotisahookshot.I’veneverbeenasgoodatthemasshehas.Whereasshemakesthebasket,myshotbouncesofftherim.
“That’saP,”Tallysays,butshe’snotgloating.Shesaysitmatter-of-factly,likeitcouldhavejustaseasilybeenher.OramIonlyimaginingshesaysitthatway?Maybesheisgloating.
Wecarryon,Tallysettingthemovesofthegameuntilshemissesashot.Thenit’smyturntosetthepace.Isinkafreethrow.Shefollowssuit.Ilineuptotakemynextshot.
“Doyoureallylikeher?”Tallyasksoutofnowhere.
Ifreeze,theballinmyhands.“What?”
“Irene,”shesays,likeshehastoforceherselftosaythename.“Youstarteddatinghersoquickly.Ithought—nevermind.”
“Tally,youbrokeupwithme.”Idon’tsayitharshly.Itspoolsfrommelikeaquestion.Becausethis—this—iswhatIneedtounderstand.
“Iknow,”shesaysquietly.“Butitwasn’tbecauseIdidn’tloveyouanymore.”
Istopdribbling.Myfeelingsareallovertheplace.Mybodyishotbutmyhandsarecold.IneedhertokeeptalkingevenifIdon’twanttoneedit.
“Transferringwastherightthingforme,”Tallysays.“Atleast,Ithinkitwas.MaybeIwon’tknowforsureuntilwe’reafewyearsoutofhighschool,butatthetime,itfeltliketherightdecision.Ididn’tlikeGrandmaEarl.Iwasflounderingthere.IfeltlikeIneeded—Idon’tknow,apush.Achancetostartover.”
“Butwhy?”Iplead.
“BecauseI—”Sheshrugshershouldersdefensively.“IwantedsomethingmorethanIwasgetting.Iwantedtogosomewherebasketballmattered.WhereImattered.”
“Youmatteredtome,”Isay,myvoicecatching.
“Scottie,believeme.Youweretheonlythingthatmadethedecisiondifficult.”
Myheartsplits.Westareateachother.Tallyclearsherthroatandsays,“It’syourshot.”
Itakeadeepbreathanddribbleagain.Myfreethrowsinkscleanly.Nothingbutnet.Tallysighs,andIpointatmyfeetuntilshelinesupinthesameposition.
Hershotmissesthebasketbyafullfoot,butsheignoresitandturnstome.
“Scottie,”shesays,andgod,Imissedhersayingmyname.“Ireally,trulythoughtIwasdoingtherightthingbreakingupwithyou.Ithoughtitwouldbetoohardtoswitchschoolsandkeepuparelationship.Itdidn’tseemfairtoyou.”
Neitheroneofusgrabsherrebound.Theballrollsintothebleachers.
“Don’tyouthinkIshouldhavedecidedthatformyself?”Iask.“Ifitwasfairtome?”
Tallypullsatthesplitendsofherbraid.Shelooksupatme.“Doyouwishwewerestilltogether?”
Mythroatfeelstight.Ihaveanachingneedtoreachoutandtouchher.Somewhereinthebackofmybrain,asmallvoicesaysIreneIreneIrene.Butinmybody,inmyheart,allIcanfeelisthisexcruciatingneedtosoothethisheartache.
“No,”Ianswertruthfully.“ButIdon’tknowhowtogiveyouup,either.I’mtryingandtryingandit’skillingme.”
Tally’schestheaves.Shemovestowardmeandwrapsmeinafiercehug.It’stingedwithyearningandgriefandregret.Ican’tpullawayfromit.It’slikepressingonabruiseandknowingitwillhurt,butneedingtofeelthetendernessanyway.
Whenthetearsleakoutofmyeyes,shewipesthemwiththebackofherhand.“I’msorry,Scottie,”shewhispers.“Ireallyam.Ineverwantedtohurtyou.”
Isthattrue?Isshebeinggenuinerightnow?DoIhavetokeepmyguardupeventhoughit’sexhausting?
“IwishIcouldshowyoumyworld,”Tallysays.“ShowyouwhyIcamehere.It’stherightplaceforme.”
“Ibelieveyou.”
Shewipesmytearsagain.“Youneveransweredmyquestion.Areyoureallydatingher?”
Ilookintothoseyearningblueeyes.Inthismoment,they’reallIcansee.“No.”Ipause.“Notrightnow.”
Tallybreathesdeep.There’saneyelashonhercheekandIdon’tstopmyselffrombrushingitaway.Maybethisisokay.MaybethisiswhatIneed.
“There’sapartytonight,”Tallysays.“ForNewYear’sEve.Willyoucomewithme?”
Mybodytenses,tryingtotellmeno,butmybrainsaysIt’sokay.Maybethisisthechanceforresolution
WhatelsecanIsaybutyes?
15
Thepartyisatsomehip,boxymonsterofahousewithfloor-to-ceilingwindowsanddecorstraightoutofMadMen.It’stheepitomeofCandlehawktaste.Icanjustimaginewhatmyfriendsandsisterswouldsayiftheywalkedinhere.Daniellewouldgivemethatside-eyelookshelearnedfromhermom.Thorawouldwrinklehernoselikeshewassmellingafart.AndIrenewould—
“Welcome,”saysatall,broodingguywithacraftbeerinhishand.Irecognizehiminstantly.Hischambraybutton-downlooksintentionallywrinkledandhishairisdeliberatelywindswept,heldinplacewithsomebrandoffuckboymousse.“Idon’tknowyou.I’mPrescott.Thisismyhouse.”
Hedoesn’tshakemyhand,almostlikeourintroductionhingesonwhatIcanofferinreturn.Iknowyoudon’tknowme.I’mScottie.Thisismyex-girlfriend.
“Scottie,”Isay,givinghimanod.
“YougotoCandlehawk?”
“No.GrandmaEarl.”
Helaughs.Flatoutlaughs.Tallyglancesatme,putsherhandonmyarmlikeImightsaysomething—
“Aren’tyoudatingaGrandmaEarlgirl?”Iaskpointedly.“Ordoyoujustblockthatpartoutwhenyou’resuckingface?”
“Scottie,”Tallyhisses.
Prescottregardsmelikeafunnypetthatjustpissedonhisrug.Hiseyesarebleary;he’salreadyhadalottodrink.Butthenhestartstolaughagain,tippinghisbeerinmydirection.
“You’resaucy,”hesays.“Youcanstay.”
Ihavenoideawhattosaytothat,butTallydragsmeawaybeforeitmatters.
Inthecenterofthehouse,nexttoafireplacethatbelongsinafancyskilodge,Candlehawkkidsarewaitinginline.Ican’tfigureoutwhyuntilIseeawallofvineswithtinycandlesandcactidottingtheshelves.It’saselfiebackdrop.They’rewaitinginlinetotakepictures.
“Socool,”Tallysays.“It’s,like,theperfectaesthetic.”
Agroupoffriendshandofftheirphonesandgatherinfrontoftheselfiewall.Oneoftheguysmusseshishair,keepinghishandtherelikehe’smid-movementThegirlnexttohimopenshermouthtolaugh,butshedoesn’tactuallylaugh.Shejustholdstheposelikeshemight.IfeellikeI’minthetwilightzone.
“Wecangetapicturelater,”Tallysays,oblivioustomybafflement.“Drinksfirst.”
ShegrabsmyhandandIlether.Wemigratetothekitchen,whereseveralpeopledoanobviousonce-overofouroutfits.Tallypretendsnottonotice,butshesmoothshershirtbeneathherleatherjacket.SheleadsmetoacounterfullofliquorbottlesandWhiteClaws.
“Here,”shesays,pressingacanintomyhands.It’snotasuggestion.IthinkofIreneattendingtheseCandlehawkpartieswithCharlottelastyear,andIcanunderstandwhyshewantedtogetdrunkduringthem.ButIalsoknowwherethatled.
“I’mokay,actually,”ItellTally.“Um.Mythroat’sbeenkindasore.I’lljustgetsomewater.”
Tallylookssurprised,butshedoesn’tpushmeonit.Shemakesherselfamixeddrinkandtakesabiggulp.
I’mpouringwaterfromthesinkwhennoneotherthanCharlottePascalslithersupbesideme.Ifeelhereyesonmelikealaserbeam.
“WehavePellegrino,youknow,”shedrawls.
Itakeapointedsipfrommytapwater.“I’mfinewiththis,thanks.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Whyareyouhere?”
“Wantedtoseehowtheotherhalflives.”
Shestaresatme,unamused.“Ican’timagineyourgirlfriendishappytoknowyou’reherewithTallyGibson.”
ItsuddenlyoccurstomehowdangerousitisforCharlottetoseemeherewithTally.Shecouldspinthisanywayshewants.HowdidIthinkIcouldjustifythis?
“IreneknowsI’mhere,”Ilie.“IagreedtobeTally’sdesignateddriver.”
Charlottesnorts.“Thatgirlneedsmorethanadesignateddriver.”
“Whoareyoutojudge?”Isaypointedly,alludingtotheDUIsheandPrescottnearlygotlastyear.
Charlotte’scheekstingewithcolor.Hernostrilsflare.“Whyareyoureallyhere?”
“Ijusttoldyou.”
“Oh,don’tbecute,Scottie,”shehisses.ShethrowsacontemptuousglanceinTally’sdirection.“You’reherewiththebiggestwannabeI’veeverseen,andyou’retellingmethequeenbeedoesn’tcare?Tellme,whyareyou‘dating’heranyway,especiallyaftershepulledthatshitwiththetowtrucklastyear?Orareyoualsosodesperateforaridetothetopthatyou’veblockeditout?”
Mycheeksburn.Ican’tthinkofanythingtosay.
Charlottegivesmeahaughtysmirk.Shedumpsmywaterinthesinkandslinksaway.
Tallyisdrinkinghardinawaythatsuggestsshedoesthisregularly.She’schattingwithsomegirlsIrecognizefromherteam,buttheireyesdon’tshineonherthewaytheyusedto.Theyseemtobelookingforawayoutoftheconversation.Whenoneofthemchangesthesubjecttoherskivacation,Tallygoesquietandstepsclosertome.
“WhywereyoutalkingtoCharlotte?”sheasks.Icanhearthatyearninginhervoice,thatdesperateneedtobeworthy.Acombinationofresentingmeandlivingvicariouslythroughme.IsthatwhatI’vebeendoingtoher,too?
“Shewastalkingtome.Listen,canwegetoutofhere?”
“Butwejustgothere,”Tallysays.Shesoundsdrunkallofasudden.“Don’tyouwannameetmyfriends?Aren’tyouhavingfun?”
Ilookaround.Thebasketballgirlshaveditchedus.Everyoneelseisoblivioustoourpresence;oneguyliterallyknocksTally’sshoulderandkeepswalking.Isthishowit’sbeenforherlately?IfIhadknownaweekago,itwouldhavegivenmeasickvalidation.NowIjustfeelbadforher.
“Howaboutwetakeabreak,justforaminute?”
Tallylooksaround,too.Icantelltheexactmomentsherealizeswe’vebeenshutout,becausesheadjustsherleatherjacketandavoidsmyeyes.
“Comeon,”Isaygently.“Let’sfindsomewherequietandtalk.”
Upstairs,wefindanopenloftthatservesassomekindofTVroom.IguideTallytositonthecouchwithme,ourkneesbarelybumpingthroughourjeans.Wefacethebaywindowthatlooksoverthedarkbackyard.Tallytakesanotherswigfromherdrink.Istudytheexpressiononherface,thedullnessinthoseonce-brighteyes.
“Areyousureyou’rehappy,Tal?”Foronce,I’mnotaskingformyself.I’mgenuinelyconcernedabouther.
“No.Ifeellikeshit,”shemumbles.“Idon’tlikeanyofthesepeople.Idon’ttrustanyofthemthewayItrustyou.”
Thatfeelingofcompassioncomesovermeagain.Iwanttocomforther.Ican’trememberwhyIeverresentedher.
“Ihatedwatchingthatvideo,”Tallycontinues.“YouandIrenekissingattheEmporium.Feltlikesomeoneclawedmyorgansout.Icouldn’tstopwatchingeventhoughitmademesick.”
Ibreatheandtakeherhandtocomforther.“Iknow.IfeltthesamewaywatchingyoukissthatgirlatCharlotte’sparty.It’sbeenhardforbothofus.”
“Idon’tknowhowyoumovedonsofast.OnesecondI’mtalkingtoyouafterthedemogame,andthenext,you’redatingthistotalbitch.”
Iflinch.Myhandgoescoldinhers.
“YoubecamesomeoneIdon’tknowanymore.”Sheswallowsandwipeshereyes.“IthoughtIknewyou.Ithoughtwelovedeachother.”
Ihaveasudden,strangesensationthatI’moutsidemyownbody.I’vehadnothingtodrink,butmybrainfeelsfoggyanddetached.HowdidIgettothisplace,sittingontheleathercouchofthiselaboratemansioninCandlehawk,activelytryingtohurtthegirlIlovedandsacrificingmyownintegrityintheprocess?
“Tally…Ishouldgo.Idon’tbelonghere.”
Tallyshakesherhead.Herdrinksloshesontothecarpet.“No,Scottie,pleasestay.You’retheonlypersonIcareabout.”
“No,listen,weshouldleave.Thispartyisn’tagoodplaceforyou.”Igiveherhandasmalltug,butshedoesn’tmove.
Tallysniffles.She’slegitimatelycryingnow.“Doyoustillloveme?”
Iopenmymouth,butnothingcomesout.
“Please,Scottie?”shebegs,herdrunkeneyesonmine.Andthen,beforeIcanreact,shepushesintomeandkissesme.Hard.
AtfirstI’mfrozen.Thenmybodywakesup.I’vefantasizedaboutthismomentamilliontimes.Onelastchance.Onelastkiss.Shetasteslikeliquor,butherlipsarewarmandfamiliarbeneathmine.Ipressbackagainstthem.Sheopenshermouthandbrusheshertongueagainstmine.
No.Stop.Thisisn’twhatyouwantanymore
“Tally,Ican’t,”Isay,pushingheraway.Iwipemymouthwithashakinghand.WhatthehellamIdoing?WhyamIstillsittinghere?I’mdesperatetogohome,butIcan’tleaveher.Notwhenshe’sthisdrunk.Notwhenshe’sthisalone.
“Comeon,Tal,”Isay,pullingheroffthecouch.
Downstairs,everythingisrowdierthanitwasbefore,louderandlesscontrolled.Intheshadowyparlor,agroupofpeopleisbentoveracoffeetable,nodoubtsnortingsomething.Inthemainroom,someguyispissingonthevinewallashisfriendslaughlikehyenas.
IhelpTallyintohercoat,guideheroutthebackdoor,andsettleherinmycar.Shefallsasleepimmediately,andIfeelabittersweetpangwhenIglanceatherinthepassengerseat,thewayI’vedoneamilliontimesbefore.Idriveherhomeandnudgeherawakeonthestreetoutsideherhouse.Sheblinksawake,bleary-eyedandconfused.Shedoesn’thugme;shemerelynodsandclambersoutofmycar.
16
Danielleschedulesawarm-uppracticefortheFridaybeforethenewsemesterstarts.It’sanicewaytoeasebackintoschoolafterthecrazinessoftheholidays,andI’mreadytohaveabasketballinmyhandsandnothingonmymindexceptthegame.
UntilIwalkintothegymandrealizeIrenehasscheduledcheerleadingpracticeforthesametime.
It’sthefirsttimeI’veseenhersinceourChristmasEvekiss,andmyinitialglimpseofherisamomentwheresomebodyhasclearlymadeherlaugh,becauseherfaceisonebig,radiantsmile.She’sgottenahaircut—justafewinchesthatshowsinthelengthofherponytail—andshe’swearingavintageTearsforFearstankoverherleggings.Eventhoughshe’ssweatyandmessyandnotwearinganymakeup,mybreathcatcheswhenIlookather.
Shenoticesmeandacuriousexpressionstealsoverherface.Thecornersofhermouthlifttheslightestbit.
Istarttosmileback,butjustthen,thegymdoorbangsopen.Weturntofindthesoccerteammarchingtowardus,CharlottePascalatthefrontofthepack.Shelooksfurious.
“Whatthefuckisthis?”shesays.“Noneofy’allaresupposedtobehere.Ireservedthegymforsoccerconditioning.”
“Sincewhen?”Daniellesays.“Fridaybeforethesemesterstartshasalwaysbeenbasketball’sday.”
“Notthisyear,”Charlottesays,handsonherhips.“Didyounotcheckthereservationlist?”
“Gorunoutside,”Daniellesaysdismissively.ShespinsawayfromCharlotteandturnstoourteammates.“Allright,startwithlayups.Splitupsowehaverebounders.”
ShegoestopassGoogytheball,butCharlotteinterceptsit,theballhittingherpalmswithasharpsmack.Theenergyinthegymchangesinstantly.Everyonefreezes.
Daniellelooksreadytocommitmurder.“Givemetheball,Charlotte.”
“No,Coach,Idon’tthinkIwill,”Charlottesays,guardingthebasketballunderherarm
Iwanttostrangleher.Myteammatesareseething.Charlotte’steammatesaresmirking,thoughsomeofthemlookuncomfortable.
“What’sgoingon?”someoneinterrupts.
Theresheis.Ireneinherelement,highponytailinplace,blazingeyesroamingoverthescene.Myheartlodgesinmythroat.
“You’renotneededhere,Ireenie,”Charlottesneers.“Thisdiscussionisforathletes.”
Irene’seyessizzle.“Thenit’sagoodthingwecameover,Char.Becausenotonlyareweathletes,we’realsoverygoodatdeterminingwhotorootforinthesesituations.”
Theairprickleswithtension.Charlottetakesastepforward,basketballstilltrappedunderherarm.HerfocusisentirelyonIrene.
“Andwhoisityou’rerootingfor?”sheasksinadeadlyquietvoice.Sheturnsaroundandgesturestome.“Yourgirlfriend?”
Myheartbeatsforebodingly.
“’CauseIheardyou’renolongeranitem,”Charlottecontinues.“Atleast,that’showitlookedwhenIsawScottiewithTallyGibsonatmyboyfriend’sNewYear’sEveparty.”
Irene’sjawtwitchesalmostimperceptibly.Hereyesflickertowardme.
Idoeverythinginmypowertostopmybodyfromflushingred,butit’snouse.Myskinisonfireaseveryonelooksatme.It’stheexactsignalCharlotteneeds.
“Wait,”shesaysinafauxsurprisedvoice.Hermeaneyesboreintomine.“IthoughtyousaidyoutoldIrenethatyouweretherewithTally.”ShespinsaroundtoIrene.“Didn’tZajactellyou?”
MybodyburnssohotIthinkImightpassout.Irene’scheekshaveturnedapatchydarkcolor.Welockeyesforasplinteringsecond.
Charlottepullsoutherphone.“Lordknowswe’vehadourdifferences,Ireenie,”shesays,“butforoldtimes’sake,I’lldoyouasolid.It’sonlyfairforyoutoknow.”
ShedropsthebasketballcarelesslyandwalkstowardIrenewithherphone.Mypulseishammering;I’msweatinglikeI’minanightmare.Ihavenoideawhat’sonthatphone,butIknowit’sbad.
CharlotteleansintowardIrenesonooneelsecanseewhatthey’relookingat.It’seasytotelltheexactmomentIreneseeswhateverthebadthingis,becauseherjawlocksandhermouthsetsintoathin,firmline.
Shelooksupatmeforaquick,searingsecond.Thensheclearsherthroat.
“Practiceisover,”shesaysinashakyvoice.“Everyonegohome.”
Sheturnsonherheelandwalksoffwithherheadheldhigh.
Ichaseherdownintheparkinglot.She’scompletelyalone,withoutevenHoney-Belletofussoverher.Icatchuptoherasshe’sslammingherduffelbagintohercar.
“Irene!Wait!”
Sheturnstomewiththosedark,expressiveeyes.MyheartdropswhenIseethey’refulloftears.
“What,Scottie?”Hernoseisdripping,butshedoesn’tbotherwipingitaway.
“Whatdidsheshowyou?”Iaskinasmallvoice.
ShestaresatmeasifdecidingwhetherI’mevenworthtalkingto.“ApictureofyoukissingTally.”
Igocompletelynumb.CharlottemusthavesnuckuponusintheloftwhileIwastryingtotakecareofTally.Whatdidshedo,followusupthestairs?Armycrawlherwaytowardusinthedark?Thethoughtmakesmesick.
“Irene,it’snotwhatitlookslike.ShewaswastedandIwastryingtohelp—”
“Whywereyouthereinthefirstplace?”
Mymouthsnapsshut.“Because…BecauseI…”
“Idon’thavetimeforthis,”Irenesays,movingtogetintohercar.
“No—wait—please,”Isay,grabbingherarm.“Iwasfallingforyouanditscaredthehelloutofme.MyfeelingsforTallyweren’tgoingawayandI—IthoughtifIgotsomeclosure—”Ishakemyhead.“IwenttoseeherandsheinvitedmetoPrescott’sparty.Thingsgotoutofhand.Shegotdrunkandwastotallymiserableand—andIletherkissme.ButthenIstoppedit.Itookherhomejusttomakesureshewassafe.Ihaven’tseenhersince.”
Ireneslumpsagainsthercar.“Ican’tbepartofyourmess,Scottie.”
“No,butthat’sthething,”Isayfrantically.Idon’twanthertowalkawayfromme.“I’mtryingtofigureoutthemess!I’mtryingtofixeverythingsoIcanbewithyou!”
Shestareshardatme.“Butyoucouldn’ttellmethat?Youcouldn’tbehonestabouthowwrappedupyouwereinyourstupid,toxicpiningandbullshit?”
“Don’ttalktomelikethat,”Isay,mydefensesrising.“Don’tactlikeyou’resomuchbetteratbreakupswhenyourexisstillpullingshitlikeshedidjustnow—”
“Idon’tgolookingforhertodothat,”Irenesayssharply.“AtleastI’vetriedtocutheroutofmylife—”
“Youdidn’tcutherout,shecutyouout.Butsure,goodforyouforkeepingyourdignityinsteadofbacksliding.Thatdoesn’tmeanyoucanstandthereactingallhighandmightyasifyou’veneverdoneanythingwronginyourlife.You—towed—myfucking—car”—myvoiceisshakingnow,andtearsarefallingfrommyeyes—“becauseyouusedtobejustlikeCharlotte,pickingonpeoplesimplybecauseyoucould.Thatdoesn’tmakeyoubetterthanme.Thatdoesn’tevenmakeyoubetterthanher—”
“Shutup!”Ireneyells,slammingherdoorandbarrelingpastme.“Shutuprightnow.Youhavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout!”
Shepacesmanicallyonthesidewalk,hereyeswild,herwholebodyshaking.Ihavenever,everseenherlikethis.
Andthenshebendsoverandvomitsintothegrass.
“Whatthe—?”Isay,stunned.
Irenedrawsaslowbreath,handsonherknees.She’ssilentforamoment,andIdon’tknowwhattodo.“Did—”Sheswallowshard.“DidyouknowPrescottusedtodrivethesamecarasyou?”
Iblink.“What?”
Shecollapsesontothecurb,wrappingherarmsaroundhercalves.“HisparentstookhisAudiawayafterthedrunkdrivingincident,sothe‘spare’carheusedwhenCharlottefirststarteddatinghimwasarentalcar.AgreenJetta.Whensheinvitedhimtothatpartylastyear,Ilostmymindaboutit.Icalledatowingcompanyandreadthemhislicenseplate.”Shelooksupatme,hereyesshiny.“Butitwasn’thislicenseplate.Itwasyours.”
Icanonlystandthere,buffetedbythisreveal.
“I’vebeenwhereyouare,Scottie.Thatkindofcrazy,flesh-eatingpainthatconsumeseverypartofyou.Iunderstandwantingtogetbackatthem.Wantingtheirattention,evenifit’sinanegativeway.Buttheshittythingis,thatneverhelpsyoufeelbetter.Itjustlandsyouinaworsesituation,liketowingthecarofaperfectlynicegirlwhohadnothingtodowiththepainyou’rein.”
Theworldgoesquiet.Itrytofeelmybody.Mystomachislikeice.
“Thisentirethingwasamistake,”Irenesays,standingup.Sheleansagainsthercaragain,tearsstreamingdownherface.AdetachedpartofmybrainsaysGotoher,butI’mfrozenwhereIstand.
“Let’sconsiderourarrangementfinished,”Irenesayshollowly.“I’llreturnthemoneyifyouwantit.You’lljusthavetogivemesometimetogetajob.”
Ashardgoesthroughthecenterofmybody.That’snotwhatIwant,butIstillcan’tbringmyselftospeak.
Ireneopenshercardoorandsettlesintothedriver’sside.“Youmightwannabackup.Idon’twanttohityouwithmycar.”
Shepullsthedoorshutwithadullthud.Theenginestarts,thebrakelightsflashred,hercarstartstomove.Ibackup,numbfromheadtotoe,andwatchherdriveaway.
“Iseverythingokay?”MomaskswhenItraillistlesslythroughthefrontdoorafullhourlater.ImeanttocomestraighthomebutendedupsobbinginmycaruntilIfeltlight-headed.I’mgratefultohavebothmyparentshere,sinceMomisworkingremotelytodayandDadonlyworkedahalfdayattheclinic.Iknowit’stimetotellthemeverything,andIjustwanttogetitoverwith.
Iswallow.Ittakeseverythinginmenottostartcryingagain.“Imessedup.”
MomandDadswoopovertome.Daphnelooksupfromthecouch,wide-eyed.“What’swrong?”Dadasks.“Areyouhurt?Areyousafe?”
“I’mfine,”Isaytonelessly.“ButI’vebeenlyingaboutsomething.”
Myparentstradelooks.“Okay,”Momsaysinhersteady,soothingvoice.“Let’ssitdownandtalkaboutit.”
MomandDadsettlethemselvesonthecouchtogether,aunitedfront,andwaitexpectantly.Icurluponthecouchacrossfromthem.DaphneplacesBooBooinmylap,butbeforeshecansitdownnexttome,MomandDadaskhertoleave.Shegivesmeabewilderedlookandtrudgesupstairstoherroom.
Onceherdoorsnapsclosed,MomandDadfocusalltheirattentiononme.AndbeforeIlosemynerve,Istarttalking.
Itellthemeverything.TheanguishIfeltafterTallytransferred.TheattentionIgotwhenIcarpooledwithIrene.TheplanIconcoctedto“date”herandthesummerjobsavingsIusedtopayherdeductible.TheruseIdangledoverTally’shead.ThedeepconfusionaboutmynewfeelingsforIrene,andthefeelingsIstillhaveforTally,andwhetherIdeservetobelovedbyeitheroneofthem.AndjustwhenI’vealmostcoveredeverything,Thoragetshomefromthelunchshift,takesonelookatusinthefamilyroom,andasks,“Whodied?”
Momtakesadeepbreath.WeallknowsheandThoradon’tkeepthingsfromeachother,especiallynotwhereDaphneandmeareconcerned.It’saremnantfromthetimewhenitwasjustthetwoofthem.IalreadyknowMomwilltellThoraaboutmeevenifIdon’ttellhermyself.
“Comesit,”Momsays,hervoicecarefullycontrolled.SheturnsandbellowsupstairsforDaphne,whoopensherdoorimmediately.
Mycheeksgohot.TellingThoraisonething,buttellingDaphne?
“Mom,”Isaymeaningfully.
“Wedon’thavesecretsinthisfamily,”Momsays.“Whenoneofushurts,weallhurt.”
Iswallowandavoidmysisters’eyesastheysettleinthefamilyroomwithus.There’saprotractedsilence,butnoonestepsintofillit.Thefocusisentirelyonme.There’snowayoutofthis.
Itakeadeepbreathandtellthestoryalloveragain,finishingwiththeNewYear’sEvepartyandthepictureCharlotteshowedIrenetoday.
WhenI’mfinallyfinished,there’saringingsilence.Thora’sjawistight.Daphnelookscrestfallen.MombreathescarefullythroughhernosewhileDadrubshismouthmechanically.
“That’sprettyfucked,Scottie,”Thorasaysfinally.
“Thora,”Momreprimands.
“Thanksforthosewiseandcompassionatewords,”Isaythickly.Iroundonmymom.“DoyouseewhyIdidn’twanttotellher?She’sjudgmentalabouteverything.”
“I’mbeingjudgmentalbecausethisisnottheScottieIknow,”Thorasnaps.
“Yeah,well,theScottieyouknowwasheartbrokenandhurting,butyoudidn’twanttohearaboutthat.YouonlywantedtopointouthowshittyTallywas.”
“Becauseshewasshitty.”
“Fromyourperspective,maybeshewas.ButcanyoupleaseconsiderthatmaybeIsawthingsworthlovinginher?Thatbeforeshebrokemyheart,shebuiltmeupintothebestversionofmyself?”
“Idon’tgetit,”Daphnecutsin.Hervoiceissoftandquiet.“I’vealwaysthoughtyouwereamazing.WhydidyouneedTallytoshowyouthat?”
That’swhenIstartsobbingagain.
MomandDadmeetmeonmycouch.DadletsmecryintohisshoulderwhileMomstrokesmyarm.Mysistersfoldthemselvesontothefloorbelowusandwait.It’sapiercing,intimatemoment:thefiveofuspackedtogetherinathree-footradius,theChristmastreelitupinthebackground,Picklespawingcuriouslyatmysocks.
BythetimeIstopsobbing,I’msweatingthroughmypracticesweatshirt.Mombrushesthehairoutofmyeyes.Daphnesqueezesmyfoot.
“It’sheartbreakingforustohearyousaythesethings,”Momsays.“Notjustbecausewe’redisappointed,butbecauseofthedeeperissuesgoingonhere.Whendidyoustopfeelingworthy,Scottie?”
Isniffandturnawayfromher.“Ididn’trealizeIhad.”Thoragetsupandbringsmeatissuebox,andItakeonewithoutmeetinghereyes.“Tallyleftanditwaslikethisgiantholeopenedup.”
“Inyourheart?”Daphneasks.
Irunmyfingersupanddownmysternum.“Everywhere.”
Dadrubshismouthagain.“IthinkyoulostyourselfinTallyabit.”
“Ididn’tmeanto,”Isay,stilltryingtogetmybreathingundercontrol.“Ilovedhersomuch.Ithoughtshewasperfect.WhenIstartedseeingthingsIwasn’tsosureabout,Ithoughttheproblemwasmeandmywayoflookingatthings.ItfeltlikeIcouldn’ttelltheceilingfromthefloor.”
“Youhavegoodintuition,honey.You’reallowedtotrustit,”Momsays.“Andyouarevery,veryworthy.You’reworthyofloveyoufeelgoodabout.Notjustfromagirl,butfromyourself.”
“Mom’sright,”Dadsays.“Andwecantellyouthatalldaylong,butthebeliefhastocomefromyou.”
“ButhowdoIdothat?”
They’requiet,thinking.
“Mom,”Thorasayssuddenly,“rememberwhenyoutookupgardening?”
Momsmilesknowingly.Shenodslikeshe’sgivingThorapermission.
“Idon’trememberthedivorce,”Thorasays.“Iwasonly,like,three.ButIdorememberthatMomwasalwaysoutside,plantinginthedirt,andshealwayshadthebestsmileonherfaceafterward.”Shegrinsatourmom.“Rememberwhatyou’dtellme?”
“Yes.You’daskwhyIlikedgardeningsomuch,andI’dtellyouthatIwasspendingtimewithmyselfbecauseIlovemyself.”
“Thatalwaysstuckwithme.AndwhenBuckcamearound,youstillgardenedjustasmuch.”
“Itlitherupfromtheinsideout,”Dadsays.HesmilesatMomthewayhealwaysdoes:likeshemakesthesuncomeout.“That’swhatloveis,Scottie.It’slettingsomeonebethemselves.”
Iswallowdownmoretears.“Idon’tthinkTallyandIdidthatforeachother.”
“No.”
“ButIwassoinlovewithher.Ialwayshadbutterflieswhenshewasaround.Istillkindofdo.”
“Arethebutterfliesentirelygentle?”Momasks.“Ordosomeofthemhurt?”
Ibitemylip.Myfamilynodsknowingly.
“Inmyexperience,”Dadsays,“butterfliesaren’talwaysthebestcompass.”
“Soyoudidn’thavebutterflieswhenyoustarteddatingMom?”
MomraiseshereyebrowsinawaythatmeansBecarefulwhatyousayhere,buddy.Dadmerelykissesherhand.
“IthoughttherewasnowayinhellI’dendupwithyourmom,”hesays.“Weweren’teachother’stypes.Shewastenyearsyoungerthanme,muchbetter-looking,andshelovedtoputmeinmyplace.”
“AndIhadafive-year-old,”Momsays.“Andyourdaddidn’twantkids.”
“IthoughtIdidn’t.Butletmetellyou,somethingwithyourmotherandmejustworked.ThemoreIsawher,themoretimewespenttogether,shecametofeellikehome.Beingwithherwaslikeawarm,cozybuzz.”Hepauses,andhiseyestwinklesatisfactorily.“Notsomuchbutterfliesasbumblebees.”
Daphnegiggles.“Goodone,Dad.”
“Andwouldn’tyouknow,themoretimeIspentwithThora,themoreIenjoyedbeingadad.Shewasthecutest,spunkiestlittlekidI’deverseen,evenwhenshepushedourbuttons.”
Thorasmirks,herchininherhand.
“SobeforeIknewit,wehadnotjustonepreciouslittlegirl,butthreeofthem!Andheretheyare,growinguptoofast,learninghowtheirheartswork.”
Momsmoothsmyhairbackfrommyforehead.Imeltintohershoulder,snifflingandwipingmyeyes.
“IreallylikeIrene,”Iadmit.“ButIthinkIjustruinedeverything.There’snowayshe’llevenlookatmeagain.”
Momsmileswryly.“Don’tcountyourselfout,sweetheart.Letthewoundsbreatheforabitandseewhathappens.”
“I’mtiredofwounds.IstillfeelsadaboutTallyevenwithalltheworkI’vedonetogetoverher.IfeellikeIgaveherapieceofmeI’mnevergoingtogetback.”
“Mysweetgirls,letmetellyousomething,”Momsays,lookingaroundtoeachofus.“Youwillmovethroughlifeandfallinlovewithmanydifferentpeople,andatsomepoint,youwillgetyourheartbroken.It’sunavoidable.Thekeyistonotbeafraidofthebreaking.Peoplebreakourhearts,buttheycreatemoreroominthemfirst,andthatroommakesitpossibleforustobecomemoreourselves.”
“Idon’tthinkI’vebecomemoremyself,”Iwhisper.
“Youcan’talwaysseetheprocesswhenit’shappening,”Dadsays.“Butayearfromnow,you’llseehowthepieceslinedup.Giveyourselftimetoheal,Scottie.Giveyourselfabreak.”
Inod,wipingmyeyes.BooBoojumpsintomylapandpurrsagainstmystomach.
“Allright,”Momsays.“That’senoughheavystufffortoday.Timetoletthingsbreathe.”
“Yeah,timetoleavethisbullshitbehind,”Daphnesaysunexpectedly.
“Daphne—”Momstarts,butwhensheseestherestofuscrackingup,sheburiesherfaceinherhandsandlaughs.
Iwakeupexhaustedthenextmorning.ItfeelslikealltheheavyemotionsI’vebeencarryingtheselastfewmonthshavefinallyknockedmedownandtoldmetostaythere.Ifeelsomereliefaftertalkingwithmyfamilyyesterday,butIalsoknowIhavealonghealingpathinfrontofme.Becausethat’sthetruthIhavetoface:It’stimetomeetmygriefhead-onandallowittomovethroughme.
There’sagentleknockonmybedroomdoor.Threepeoplepoketheirheadsin:Thora,Daphne,and,tomysurprise,Danielle.Theyhoverinthedoorway,eyebrowsraisedlikethey’renotsurewhatkindofstatethey’llfindmein.WhenIpatmybed,smilesbreakoutontheirfaces.MysisterssnuggleuponeithersideofmewhileDaniellesitscross-leggedatmyfeet,balancingamugofcoffeeinherhands.Daphnehandsmeacoffeeofmyowninherfavoritemug,thevintagePeterRabbitonewe’vehadsincewewerelittle.
“Whendidyougethere?”IaskDanielle.
Shewrinkleshernose.“Halfanhourago.Thoratextedme.IshowedDaphhowtomakecoffee.”
IsmilemygratitudeatThora.It’seasiertomeethereyestoday.
“How’sthecoffee?”Daphneasksme.“Didweaddenoughcream?”
Ileanintoher.Shesmellslikeherfloralshampoo,theoneIonlyusewhenIrunoutofmyown.“It’sperfect,Daph.You’reperfect.”
ThoranudgesmeuntilIlookatheragain.“Iwokeupfeelinglikeabadsister,”shesaysquietly.“IthitmewhatyousaidabouthowIneverfullylistenedtoyourpain.I’msorry,Scots.Ishouldn’thavebeensoquicktoshitonTallywithoutunderstandinghowyoufeltfirst.”
Inod.“It’sokay.”
“No,it’snot,butI’mgladwecanalwayscalleachotheronthisstuff.”
“Iloveourbandofsisters,”Daniellesays,andwealllaugh.“So…IheardabouttheNewYear’sEveparty.AndthepictureofyouandTallykissing.”
“Wefilledherin,”Daphneexplains.
IriskalookatDanielle,afraidofwhatshe’llthinkofme,butshemerelylooksconcerned.“Areyouokay,Scottie?IsIreneokay?”
Itakeasipofcoffee,consideringthequestion.“CanIaskyouguyssomething?WhatdoyouthinkofthatsceneinSayAnything…whereheholdstheboomboxoutsideherwindow?”
“It’ssoromantic.”Daphnesighs.
“Iconic,”Thorasays.
“He’satry-hard,”Daniellesays.
IpointatDanielle.“That’swhatIrenethinks.Shehatesthatpartbecauseshethinksit’sacop-out.ThatJohnCusack,like,indulgedinthischeesygesturebecausehewantedtowallowinhisfeels.ShesaysheshouldhavemadeanefforttotalkthingsoutwithIoneSkyeinstead.”
ThoraandDaphnefrown,ponderingthisperspective.
“She’sright,”Daniellesayssimply.
“Idon’twantthosehardconversations,”Iadmit.“I’dratherstandoutsideherbedroomwindowandblastalovesong.”
“Thatdefinitelysoundsmoreromantic,”Daphnesays,tappingherfingersagainstherchin,“butwhichonewouldmeanmoretoIrene?”
Iknowtheanswerinmybones.“Ugh.Thetoughconversation.”
“You’vehadhardconversationsbefore,”Daniellesays.“YouandIrenearealwaysstraightwitheachother.Imean,inagayway.”
ThorasnortsandkicksherfootagainstDanielle’ship.
“YoutalktoherlikeyounevertalkedtoTally,”Daniellecontinues.“You’re…youknow…you.”
Inod.“Yeah.AndIwasn’tmewhenIwaswithTally.”
“Right.Look,rememberwhenpeoplestartedturningoutforourgamesandIfreakedoutandyousaidIcouldn’thaveitbothways?EitherIstoppedcaringthatweweren’tgettingattention,orIlearnedhowtoplaywithattentiononme?Youwereright,sonowI’mgonnareturnthefavorThisisn’tyou.Thefakedatingscheme,themessingwithTally’shead,thesneakingaroundCandlehawk?NotevenclosetotherealScottie.Therealyouisauthenticandgenuineandgrounded.Shecaresaboutpeople.Nottheideaofthem,butthepeoplethemselves.”
WefallsilentuntilDaphneturnstome.“Nooffense,butyourbestfriendissmarterthanyou.”
“Notoffended.”Ismileandreachformyphone.“Hey,didCharlotteshowanybodyelsethepicture?”
“No,”Danielleanswers.“Imean,everyoneputthepiecestogetherthatyouwereoutwithTallyanddidsomethingtoupsetIrene,so…”
“Yeah.Definitelysoundsbad.”Icringe.“Doesthewholeschoolhateme?”
Danielleshrugs.“Theymight?”Shestarespointedlyatme.“ButIdon’tthinkyoushouldworryaboutthatrightnow.”
Isigh.“Right.Authenticity.I’mjustnotsureIliketheauthenticmerightnow.She’sadamnmess.”
Thorasighsandslingsanarmaroundmyshoulders.“Look,Scots,”shesaysgently,“ifyou’regoingtoheal,youhavetostopavoidingthehardshit.Trustthatyoucanhandlethebadpartsofyourself.TrustthatIrenecan,too.”
Ibitemylip.“Butwhatifshedoesn’twantto?”
“She’llwantto,”Daniellesays.“Ifyoutrustmeonanything,trustmeonthat.”
WhenIcallIrenethenextday,I’mnotsureshe’llanswer.
Shedoes.
AndwhenIaskifwecantalk,shesaysyes.Igrabmykeysandhustleoutthedoor.
WhenIpullintoherdriveway,she’sinthegarage,shiveringinamaroonhoodiewiththecollarcutloose,herglasseson,herhairinamessytopknot.Myheartpoundsbeneathmydenimjacket.
Itakeoffmyshoeswhenweenterthehouse.Marythedogpadsoverandnuzzlesintomythigh.AboywithIrene’seyes,maybeelevenortwelveyearsold,looksoverfromthewraparoundcouch.
“Thisismybrother,”Irenesays,gesturingtowardhim.“Mathew,we’regoingupstairs.Don’tbotherus.”
Mathewscruncheshisnose.“Areyoutwobanging?”
Ireneignoreshimandhurriesupthestairs.Ifollowher,tryingtodecodeherbodylanguage.Shedoesn’tseemangry,butit’slikeshe’sputupawallbetweenus.She’sbacktobeinguntouchable.
HerroomisjustasI’dimagineittobe:clean,organized,effortlesslycool.Thedarkwallpapersuitsher.Theframedphotographsaresurprisinglyold.Ipickupagold4x6frameshowingyoungIrenewithanolderIndiancouple.
“Aretheseyourgrandparents?IsthisKerala?”
“Goodmemory,”shesaysflatly.Sheclambersontothebed,stretchesonelegoutinfrontofher.
Ihoveruncertainly.“CanI—?”
Shegestureswordlessly.
Iseatmyselfacrossfromherandstareintothosedark,expressiveeyes.Myheartisinmythroat.Iwantsobadlytogetthisright.
“Icouldsaysorryagain,butIdon’tthinkthat’swhatyouwanttohear,”Ibegin.“Icouldmakesomesweepingdeclarationoflove,butyoudeservemorethanaboomboxoutsideyourwindow.Becauseyou’reright:thatwouldserveme,notyou.”
Shewatchesmeintently.“SowhatdoIdeserve?”
“Amillionthings.”Ilookintohereyes,tryingtoshowmysincerity.“Butfromme,youdeservehonesty.Ihaven’twantedtoberealwithyouabouthowmessyandbrokenandconfusedIfeel.Itriedtokeepyouawaybytellingmyselfyouwerethepopulargirlwhodidn’tcareaboutme.Butyoudocareaboutme.Youcareaboutalotofthings.Youhaveabigheartandyou’refunnyandheadstrong.You’reoneofthemostamazingpeopleI’veevermet.”
Iswallowandfidgetwithmyjacketcuffs.“You’vebeenauthenticsincethemomentourcarshit.I’dliketobeauthenticwithyou,too.”Iclearmythroat,andnowIhavetolookaway.“I’mnotinagreatheadspace.Ihaven’tbeenformonths.BreakingupwithTallyslicedmeopeninawaythatembarrassesme,becauseIfeellikeIshouldbeoverherbynow.Idon’tknowhowmuchofit’smyfault.Likeit’smyfaultfornotseeingtheredflags.It’sstillmyfaultforbelievingshehasagoodheartdeepdown.Iknowshe’stoxic.Ireallydo.ButImissherinthiswaythatphysicallyhurts.It’slikemybraingetsitbutmyheartislaggingbehind.I’mgrievingevenifIdon’twanttobe.”
Irecapeverythingthathappenedoverthelastweek:myconversationwithDanielleaboutneedingclosure,mydecisiontoseekoutTallyattheCandlehawkgame,myexperienceatPrescott’sparty.Ieventellheraboutmyconversationwithmyfamilytheotherday.
WhenIfinish,there’ssilence.Inoticemychestrisingandfalling,mybreathmovinginandout.Mathewisblastingthetelevisiondownstairs.
“Doyoustillmissher?”Ireneasks.
Itakemytimeanswering.“Imisswhosheusedtobe,butthatpersonisgone.Maybeshenevertrulyexistedinthefirstplace.You’vebeentellingmeallalongthattryingtogetbackatherwouldn’tmakemehappy,andyouwereright.I’vebeencompetingwithherbutI’veonlybeenhurtingmyself.AndIendeduphurtingyou,too.Inevershouldhavedraggedyouintothismess.That’sthepartthatreallykillsme.I’msosorry,Irene.”
Theshadowofasmirkcrossesherface.“Youdidn’tdragmeintoanything.Imadethedecisionmyself.”
“Still.Ishouldhavebeenmoreself-aware.Ishouldhavestoppedmyselffromdevelopingfeelings.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Youcan’tcontrolyourfeelings.Ifmybiggayjourneyhastaughtmeanything,it’sthat.”
Igiveherasmallsmile.“True.”
“Iknewyouweregrieving.Iknewyouwereinabadplace.IguessIjusthopedthatthingshadchangedbynow.”Shelooksatme.“I’msorryifIrushedyouorpressuredyou.”
“Youdidn’t.”Itentativelyreachmyfingerstowardhers.Sheletsmetakethem.“Iwanttodateyou.Reallywanttodateyou.ButI’mnotreadyforthatyet,andIdon’twanttogiveyouanythinglessthanmybestself.”
Shenods.“Iunderstand.”
Imeethereyes.“Irene?”Myvoicehastheslightestquakeinit.“Whydidyounevertellmethetruthaboutthetowtruck?”
Herstareispiercing.“BecauseIwastooproudtoadmitI’dmadeamistake.Ididn’tknowyouandIdidn’tknowhowtoexplainmyselftoyou,soIletyoudealwiththefalloutinsteadoftakingitonmyself.Iwasacoward.”Shesqueezesmyfingers.“I’msosorry,Scottie.Forwhathappenedtoyourcar,butalsoforhowitmadeyoufeelaboutyourself.Yourfamilyisright:You’reamazing.You’remorethanenough.IhatethatImadeyouquestionthat.”
Isetmyhandonherknee.“I’msorryyouwereinsomuchpain.”
“I’msorryyoustillare.”
“Willitreallygoaway?Eventually?”
“Yes.”Shesmilessadly.“Look,I’llproveittoyou.”Shereachesforherphoneandscrollsuntilshefindsaphoto.“Iknowit’sprobablyweirdtoshowyouthis,butIstaredatthispictureeverydayforaboutsixmonthsafterCharlottestarteddatingPrescott.”
Shehandsittome.It’saselfieofthetwoofthem,IreneandCharlotte,kissingwiththeirheadsonthesamepillow,theirhairmessyandintertwined.Ireneissmilingthewaysheonlysmilesduringcheerroutines:likeshe’sfoundthethingshewasmeantfor.
“Oh.”Ifeelatwingeofjealousy,butIremindmyselfthisisn’taboutme;it’saboutIreneandherpain.“Doessheknowyouhavethispicture?”
“No.Weweredrunk.Ididn’tfindituntilthenextday.”
“Youlooksohappy,”Iwhisper.
“Iwas.”Shescootscloser,laysherarmalongmythigh.“IlovedCharlottewitheverythingIhad.Iknowshelovedme,too.WhenIlookatthispicture,Icanstillseethebestpartsofher.Icanrememberexactlyhowitfelttoloveher.”
Ilookupather.“Sohowdidyoufinallymoveon?”
“Time.Space.Acceptance.”Shesearchesmyeyes.“AndknowingthatIdeservedbetter.”
Ismile.Weleanourforeheadstogether,breathing.
“IwanttogettoaplacewhereI’mreadyforyou,”Iwhisper.
“Justgettoaplacewhereyouknowhowwonderfulyouare,”shewhispersback.“They’reoneandthesame.”
Shegetsupoffthebedandpullsmetomyfeet.BeforeIcanfigureouthowtosaygoodbye—fornow—shegrabssomethingoffherdresserandpressesitintomyhand.
Mybasketballbutton.
Itrytosaysomething,butthewordsstickinmythroat.Westandthereforamoment,breathing,givingthisdecisionthespaceitdeserves.ThenInodandwalkaway.
Idon’tcrywhenIgethome.Instead,Ipickupmybasketballandrunlayupsforanhour.Idon’tthinkaboutanythingotherthanmyownheartandthehealingitneedstodo.
Becausebeforeyoucanworryaboutwho’sinyourpassengerseat,youhavetolearntodriveyourself.
17
Ineveranticipatedhowmundanethehealingprocesswouldbe.MynextfewweeksarefilledwithhelpingMominthegarden,learningknittingwithDaphne,andbussingtablesforThoraatTheChimney.Iwashdishes,practicefreethrows,andrankmyfavoritefilmsonalistthatmysistersargueoverlater.IhelpDaniellereturnChristmaspresentsandtalkaboutmyfeelingswithoutherpromptingme.Thereisnothingglamorousaboutanyofit,butItellmyselftokeepgoing.
Schoolbecomesanabsolutehellhole.WordhasgottenaroundaboutCharlotte’saccusationinthegym,andwhilenoonehasseenthepicturesheshowedIrene,everyonehasputthepiecestogetheraboutus“breakingup”becauseIhungoutwithTally.Peopleareeithergivingmeawideberthortossingmedirtylooksinthehallways.Myownteammatesrefusetopassmetheballinpractice.OnlytheClevelandtripletsarewillingtohovernearby,butthat’sbecausetheywantquotesforthepaper.It’saverysober,clarifyingexperience,toseehowquicklypeoplecangofromadoringyoutoabhorringyou.
Ireneherselfiscordialbutdistant,andItakemycuesfromher.Wesmilepolitelytoeachotherinthehallwaysbutotherwisekeeptoourselves.Charlotte,ofcourse,ishappytofueltherumorsaboutwhatwentwrongbetweenus.SheplantsmoreseedsaboutIrene’s“fake”sexuality,butIrenestaysaboveitall.Idon’tknowwhetherthat’sbecauseshedoesn’tcare,orbecauseshe’sextrafocusedonSAOYnowthatwe’regettingclosertonominations.IprayIhaven’truinedherchances
Danielleandtheboysareunfailinglyloyal.WesitinmycaroneafternoonandItellthemeverything.Daniellealreadyknows,ofcourse,butit’sarelieftofinallyexplainmyselftoGuntherandKevin.Iconfessthewholetruthaboutthelastfewmonths,eventhoughI’mstillashamed.I’vetoldthisstorysomanytimesnow,butitdoesn’tgetanyeasier.“I’msorryforlyingtoyou,”Isay,forcingmyselftokeepeyecontact.“I’msorryforgettingsocaughtupinmyex.Ifeellikeittookawayfromoursenioryearexperience.”Idabatmyeyes.Daniellepassesmeanapkinfromtheglovecompartment.“Youguysaremybestfriends.Iwannamakethemostofourlastsemester.”
Kevinleansforwardandthreadshisfingerstogether.“Noneofusisperfect,Scottie.Well…exceptDanielle.”Hegrinsearnestly;shenarrowshereyesplayfully.“Thanksfortellingusthetruth.I’msorryyouwerehurtingsobad.IloveyouandIwantyoutobehappy.”
“Yeah,whathesaid,”Guntherchimesin.“Besides,IgottoknowHoney-Bellethroughthiswholething,sohowcanIbemad?”
Danielleswatsathim,andthelaughterthatfollowsisexactlywhatIneed.
ThefourofusspendeverySaturdayattheChuckMunny.OnthenightweplantoseeLove&Basketball,GuntherbringsHoney-Bellealongandkissesherintheconcessionline.IturntoDanielleandKevintoexchangeglances,butthey’renotpayingattention;they’relaughingatsomethingonKevin’sphone.WhenDaniellereachesforwardtohithisarmwithaflirtatiouslittlepunch,Kevin’seyeslightup.IpretendnottonoticewhenheinsistsonbuyingDanielle’srootbeer.I’mokaywithbeingafifthwheeltonight.
Whenwe’reofffromschoolinhonorofMLKDay,Isitcross-leggedonmybedroomfloorandreadeveryletterTallyevergaveme.Someofthemmakemecry.Iletthetearscomeandtellmyselfit’sokaythatmyheartishurting.OnceI’vegonethroughthemall,ThoraandDaphnehelpmeburntheminthebackyard.Ibreathein,breatheout,andwatchthesparksofthemdriftaway.
SpringsportsbeginneartheendofJanuary,becauseapparentlyJanuaryqualifiesasspring.EacheveningasIleavepractice,Iwatchthesoccergirlssprintingdownthefield,theirlungssurelyburninginthecold.Thestartoftheirseasonsignalstheclosingofmine,whichishardtobelieve.Itmeanswe’renearingtheendofmyhighschoolsportscareer.Italsomeanswe’reonlyweeksawayfromthedistrictchampionship,andbasedonGrandmaEarl’swinningrecord,itlookslikewe’lldefinitelybeplayinginit—andthatCandlehawk,whoremainundefeatedexceptfortheirlosstousintheChristmasClassic,willbeouropponent.
DanielleandIstaylateafterpracticeonenight,passingtheballaroundwhilesheworksthroughanewplayshewantstotrywithourteam.Wehaven’tseenCoachFernandezintwoweeks;Daniellehasbeenleadingthechargeentirelyonherown.Tonightshealternatesbetweenconsultingtheplayonherphone,directingmethroughthesteps,anddisappearingbehindDanielleVision.Iwatchherwithneweyes,inaweofthewayherbrainworks.
“DidyoueverfinishyourCommonAppessay?”Iaskwhenwe’rewalkingtotheparkinglot.It’sfreezingcoldoutside;mybreathcloudstheairwhenIspeak.
“Yeah,it’sfinished,butIhaven’tsubmittedityet.Why?”
“Whatdidyouendupwritingabout?”
“ThisanecdoteaboutmyfamilyvisitingtheMuseumofBadArtandhowTeddywentoffonthetourguideaboutthisoctopuspainting—what?What’sthatlook?”
“Danielle,youhavetowriteaboutcoachingourteam.”
“Itoldyou,Idon’twannabrag.Idon’twannabeallme-me-me.”
Istopwalking.Sodoesshe.Wefaceoffnearourcars.
“What?”Danielleprompts,teethchattering.
“Iloveyou,”Itellherfirmly.“You’reaforcetobereckonedwith.Ithinkyoushouldstophidingfrompeople.”
Sheblinks.Shelookscompletelydazed.“What?”
“Youdorealizethatsteppinguptocoachyourpeersthroughawinningseasonisprettyextraordinary,right?Especiallywhenyou’restillmaintainingstraightAs?Youshouldtellthecollegeadmissionspeoplethat.Youshouldletthemseeyou.Thereal,genuineyou.Authenticity,remember?”
Danielleswallowsandlooksaway,embarrassed.
“Tryit,”Iplead,myarmsshakinginthecold.“Justtrytheessay.IpromiseI’lltellyouifit’stoobraggy.But,like,imagineifmeorKevinorGuntherwroteit!We’dbragaboutyouthewholefuckingtime.”
“YouthinkKevinwouldbragaboutme?”
Irollmyeyes.“Youtellme.”
Shegivesmeacrookedsmile.“Yeah.Hewould.”
“Soyou’lltryit?”
Shetakesadeepbreath.“I’lltryit.I’llprobablyhateyouthewholetime,butI’lldoit.”
“Happytobehated.It’skindamythinglately—”
We’reinterruptedbyaloudbeepingovermyshoulder.Someoneisremoteunlockingtheircar.WeturntoseeIrenepullingherduffelbagoffhershoulder.She’swearingaridiculouslylongparka.
IlookbacktoDanielle.“IthinkI’mgonna—”
“Yes.Go.”
Shedoesn’tneedtotellmetwice.Ihurryacrosstheparkinglot,myduffelbagbouncingovermycoat.“Hey!Irene!”
Irenelooksaround.HerexpressionturnssofterthanIcouldhavehopedfor.“Hi.Whatareyoustilldoinghere?”
“HelpingDanielle.It’sgettingprettyintensewiththeCandlehawkgamecomingup.”
Irenestiffens,andIfeellikeanidiotforsayingtheC-word.
“Intensebecauseit’stheendofourseason,”Iclarify.“NotbecauseIcareaboutwinninganymore.”
Shetipsherhead,studyingme.“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”Ismileather.“So…nicecoat.Aren’tthoseforpeoplein,like,Minnesota?”
Shenarrowshereyes.“They’reforcoldweather,asshole.”
“Arcticweather,Georgiagirl.”
“Iguessthere’snochanceoffixingyourdumbsenseofhumorduringthishealingprocess?”
“Unfortunately,thatwasn’tpartofthedeal.”Igrinuntilsherollshereyes.Itwarmsmetomybones.“Hey,sohowareyou?AreyoureadyforSAOY?”
“Yeah,Iam.”Hereyeshavethatfamiliarsparkinthem.“IwasjustmakingmoreposterswithHoney-Belle.”
“I’velovedyourposterssofar.”
“Suck-up.”Hermouthtwitches.“Iguessyou’veheardCharlotteisbackonherbullshitwithalltheserumorsaboutme?”
Ihavetofighthardnottosaysomethingnastyabouther.That’snotwhatIreneneeds.“Yeah.I’msorryyouhavetodealwiththat.It’shardenoughcomingout.Youshouldn’thavetoproveittoanyone.”
“It’snotyourfault.She’dfindanotherangleifshehadto.”
“Irene,canIaskyousomething?”Ipause,lettingthequestionformulate.It’ssomethingI’vebeenwonderingforweeks,butit’sadelicatethingtoask.“Thatpictureyouhaveonyourphone—theoneofyouandCharlottekissinglastyear—whyhaveyounevershowedittoher?Toanyone?OnelookatthatphotoandCharlottecouldnevertortureyouagain.”
Irenestaresatme.Herexpressionisveryserious.“IsthatwhatyouthinkIshoulddo?”
Isearchhereyes.It’sclearshe’shadthisideabefore.Maybeevenconsideredit.
“No,”Isayfirmly.“Idon’tthinkyoushoulddothat.Doyou?”
“No.Ihaven’tandIneverwill.”
Iswallowdownthelumpinmythroat.Ilookatherandwonder,isthishowitfeelstolovesomeoneforwhotheyreallyare?Theircorebeing,theircompass,theirresolve?
“Irene—you’reaprettyincredibleperson.”Myvoiceisquiveringwithemotion.Whatisitwithmegushingtopeopletonight?
Ireneblinks.Hersteelygazesettles.“I’mnot,Scottie.IjusttrytodobetterthanI’vedonebefore.”Shepauses.“Sameasyou.”
Wesmileateachother.Idon’twanttoendtheconversation,butmybodyisnumbwithcold,yearningfortheheatofmycar.Besides,Ihavemorehealingtodo.
“GoodluckwithSAOY,”Isay,backingawayfromher.“I’llbecheeringforyou.”
InthefirstweekofFebruary,ourprincipalfinallymakestheannouncement:NominationsforStudentAthleteoftheYearwillbeannouncedattheendoftheday.
“Holyshit,”Daniellesaysaswe’resittinginmorninghomeroom.“IwonderhowIrene’sfeeling.”
IlookupfromthefinalversionofherCommonAppessay,whichshesubmittedlastweek,whereI’vebeenreadingabouthownervousDaniellewasbeforeourseasonopener.Shehassomehowmanagedtowriteaboutcoachingourteaminawaythatisbothpowerfulandhumble.I’veonlycountedoneself-deprecatingremark,andshe’dwrittenitinparentheses,soIcountthatasprogress.
“Sheprobablyfeelsthewayshedoesbeforearoutine,”Isay.“Anxiousbutexcited.”
Danielletapsoneofhercolor-codinghighlightersonthedesk.“God,Ihopeshegetsit.”
“Metoo.”Irunthroughthelistofpossiblecandidatesinmyhead,tryingtoseewhocouldknockheroutoftherunning.Shehastobenominatedwitheverythingshedoesforbothsquads,right?
Atlunch,thenominationsareallanyonecantalkabout.GuntherandDanielleconfirmtheyvotedforIreneduringpreliminaryballotslastweek,butKevinrefusestosaywhohevotedfor.Webughimoverandover,butit’snouse;hekeepsrepeating“Aman’sconscienceishisownprivateterrain,”untilGunthersquirtsaketchuppacketathim.
BythetimeIgettoSeniorHorizonsthatafternoon,mystomachisinknots.I’msonervousforIrenethatIfeellikeit’smynominationontheline.ButwhenIglanceacrosstheroomather,sheispoisedandsteelyasever.It’snotuntilwebrieflymeeteachother’seyesthatIrecognizehernerves.Inodencouraginglyuntilshenodsback.
Whentheend-of-dayannouncementsfinallycomeon,ourprincipalprattlesonaboutuselessminutiae,plusanotheremptywarningaboutmessingwiththemarquee,beforeheclearshisthroatandannouncestheSAOYcandidates.
“DariusHart…MichaelLottke…,”hereadsinhisnasallyvoice.“CharlottePascal…”
There’sasurgeofapplausefromhalfthepeopleintheroom.Charlottesmilesandtriestolookdemure,buttomeshelookslikeaderangedsociopath.Iholdmybreath,pleadingforIrene’sname.
“IreneAbraham…,”ourprincipaldrones.
“YES!”Ishout,poundingmyfistonthedesk.Myfaceflushesred,butitdoesn’tmatter:There’senoughnoisefromtherestoftheclassroomtocoverupmyoutburst.Halfmyclassmatesareshoutingsomevariationof“What?She’sacheerleader!”whiletheotherhalfarefallingalloverthemselvestohugIrene.Iforgetmyselfandstanduptogetabetterlookather.She’sbeaming,hersmileradiant,hereyesasjoyfulastheoldschoolpictureonherChristmastree.
“And,lastly,witharecordnumberofwrite-invotes…DanielleZander.”
Timefreezes.Myheartexplodesinmychest.Onefragilemillisecondofsilence—Danielle’sjawfallingopen,hereyeswideanddisbelieving—andthenaroarofsound.Peopleareshoutingsoloudmyeardrumscouldburst.I’mwrappedaroundmybestfriendbeforeIevenrealizeit,andI’msqueezingherhandsandyelling“You’renominated!You’renominated!”Morepeoplerushovertohugher—bandkidsandtheaterkidsandeverytypeofaveragekid—andwhenitfinallyhitsher,sheshineslikeagoddamnstar.
Theclassroomisabsolutechaos,peoplerunningtoCharlotteorIreneorDanielle—orsometimesallthree—whileMrs.Scuttlebaumyellsinvainforustositdown.Ourprincipalisstilltalkingontheintercom,buthe’snothingmorethanfuzzywhitenoise.Andinthemiddleoftheruckus,inonelightning-hotmoment,Irenemeetsmyeyesandwinks.
Laterthatday,afterpractice,theparkinglotisrifewithSAOYgossip.It’sunseasonablywarmforFebruary,andpeopleareusingtheopportunitytohangoutbytheircars.Musicstreamsacrossthelot,courtesyofthebaseballteamcelebratingDariusHart’snomination.Thesoccergirls,freshfrompractice,stretchonthegrassnearthemarquee,whichsomeonetweakedjustthismorningtoreadHAPPYVALENTITTIESDAY.GuntherandIsitonthetrunkofmycar,talkingwithKevin,whojustleftthebandroom,andDanielle,who’ssohypershe’sbouncingontheballsofherfeet.Againandagain,werecapthemomenthernamewasannouncedovertheintercom.I’mburstingtogohomeandtellmyfamilyaboutit.
“Hey,Danielle,congratulations!”oneofthebandguyssaysashepassesby.HeshiftshistrumpetcaseandpointstoKevin.“Thisguyhasthebestideas.Thesecondhetoldushewaswritingyouin,weallwentforit.Anyway,goodluck!”
Kevinflusheswherehestands.Danielleblinkslikeshe’snotsurewhatsheheard.
“Youwrotemein?”sheasks.Hervoiceistender.It’ssuchanintimatemomentthatIwishtheycouldshareitalone.GuntherandItradeawkwardglances.
“Isthatokay?”Kevinaskscroakily.“IknowIshould’veaskedforyourblessing,butIthoughtnoonedeservesitmorethanyou—”
“Hey!Danielle!”IreneandHoney-Belleburstontothescene.TheysmotherDaniellewithhugs;ittakesheramomenttoregisterthey’rethere.“Congratulations!Thisisincredible!”
Irene’sfaceisalight;she’sgenuinelythrilled.Honey-Belleissohappythatshelooksreadytofloatawayfromtheearth.
“Oh—yeah—thanks!”Daniellesays,huggingthemback.“Congratulationstoyou,Irene!”
“IneverthoughtI’dhavetwofriendsnominated!”Honey-Bellesqueals.ShespinsovertoGuntherandsmusheshisfacebetweenherhands.“Canyoubelieveit?It’slikeChristmas!”
Gunthergrinslikeatotaldoof.“Comingfromyou,thatreallymeanssomething.”
Idon’trealizeI’msmilingsoharduntilmycheeksliterallystarttoache.IglanceacrossthecircleatIrene,whocatchesmyeyeandgrins.It’salreadyoccurredtomethatI’mgoingtohavetopickbetweenherandDanielleonthevotingform,butrightnow,Idon’tcare.There’stoomuchtobehappyabout.
Which,gofigure,istheexactthingI’mthinkingwhenCharlottePascalslithersupwithhercronies.
“Ohgod,”Daniellesays,forgettingherself.“Comebacklater,Pascal,we’reclosedtobullshitrightnow.”
Mygroupsnickerswithlaughter.Charlotte’scheekscolorpink,butherviciouseyesstayplantedonus.“Ijustwantedtocongratulateyou,Danielle.It’snicetoseeanotherhardworkingfemaleathletenominated.”
Myclassmates,sensingabloodbath,starttogatherround.Theparkinglotquiets.Ourcircleofonlookersgrows.
“Youcanstopbaitingmewiththatwordnow,”Irenesaysinaboredvoice.“We’recelebrating,Char.Youshouldbedoingthesamething.Gohavefun.”
“Ican’tbelieveyougotanomination,”Charlottesaysinaslipperyvoice.“Especiallywhenit’sclearyouweretryingtoleveragegaypointsforthesympathyvote.”
Ahushfallsoverthecrowd.Mypulsequickenswarningly.
“I’mnotinterestedinyouropinionofmysexuality,”Irenesayssmoothly.“IknowwhoIamandhowIfeel.”
“Yeah,see,that’sjustnotaddingupforme.IthinkyouwereusingZajac.Weallrememberthetowtruckincident,Irene.Howdoyougofromterrorizingthepoorgirltoshowingherofflikearmcandy?ButIknowhowcalculatingyoucanbe.You’resavvyenoughtospinastoryforyourowngain.Youtookanunderdog—anobviouslygayunderdog—andusedherlikeanaccessorytoshowthatyoulearnedyourlesson,youcouldrelatetoeveryone,youwereapoorclosetedgaygirl—”
“That’sacompletelie!”Isay,losingmytemper.“God,Charlotte,whyareyousohell-bentontorturingher?”
CharlottenarrowshereyeslikeI’maninsectthathassuddenlybecomeinterestingtoher.“I’mhell-bentonprovingshe’safraud.Andsoareyou.Idon’tknowwhat’sinitforyouwiththiswholescheme,butIdoknowyou’refakingit.Youdon’tcareaboutIrene.You’reinitforsomethingelseentirely.AndIcanproveit.”
Shewhipsoutherphone.IreneandIlockeyes.Aninfiniteconversationpassesbetweenus.
“Yep,therewego,”Charlottesays.“LetmejustpostthislittledevelopmenttoInstagram…”
There’saheavy,protractedsilenceaseveryonewaits.Thenoneofthesoccergirlslooksatherphoneandsays,“Ohshit…”
Inaflash,everyoneisontheirphoneexceptforme,Irene,andourfriends.Westayresoluteasourpeersgawkattheirscreens.Thesoccergirlsroarwithglee.Thefootballguyselboweachotherandlaugh.Thecheerleadersaresilentasstone.
“Isthatreallytrue?”oneofthemasksIrene,thrustingherphoneather.Irenetriestolookaway,butthegirlpracticallyforceshertolook.Irene’sjawtightens.Shedigsahandthroughherhair.
Inspiteofmyself,Ipulloutmyphoneandlook.
JustasIrenesaid,it’saphotoofTallyandmemakingoutattheNewYear’sEveparty,time-stampedwiththedateandlocation.It’salittlefuzzyfromCharlottezoominginonus,butthere’snodoubtwhoitis.ThecaptionoverlayingthepicturereadsSoZajakwasstillhookingupwithGibsonthiswholetime?IguessIrenereallywasjustusingherforshow…
EveryoneisstaringwhenIlookup.Myfriends’facesareanxious.Everyoneelse’sisjudgmentalandwary.TheylookfrommetoIreneandbackagain.It’sdeadsilentuntilIrenefinallyspeaks.
“YouspelledScottie’snamewrong,”shetellsCharlotte,butherheart’snotinit.SheturnsandlookspastmetoHoney-Belle.“Comeon,let’shangthoseposters.”
“Iwouldn’tbother,”Charlottesaystriumphantly.“You’veshowedyourtruecolors.Idoubtanyonewillvoteforyounow.”
There’sanoutbreakofmurmuringandlaughter.Irenelooksstricken.Ifeelreadytothrowup.Thiswholefucked-upthingismyfault.Icandealwiththeconsequencesformyownlife,butsabotagingIrene’sissomethingelseentirely.
Guntherplaceshiswarm,stubbyhandovermine.That’swhenIrealizeI’mshaking.IreneandHoney-Belleretreattotheircarswithoutaword,Charlotteandherentourageleaveintriumph,andtherestofourclassmatesdisperse.Thenit’sjustDanielle,Kevin,Gunther,andme,somberandsilentbymycar.
Thenextday,IseekoutCharlotteafterschool.Iliterallychaseherdownthesoccerfield.I’llbelateforbasketballpractice,butDaniellewillunderstand.
It’sjustthetwoofusstandingnearmidfield.Herteammatesaren’toutofthechangingroomsyet.Charlotteregardsme,handsonherhips,almostlikesheexpectedmetocomefindher.Itakeadeepbreathandsaymypiece.
“IwantyoutoleaveIrenealone,”Isaywithoutpreamble.“Leavebothofusalone.”
Charlottesmirks,confidentthatshehastheupperhand.“Orwhat?”
Ishrug.“Ornothing.Ihavenothingtoholdoveryou.I’msimplyaskingyoutostop.Igetthatlosinghermadeyousadorbitterorwhatever,butforfuck’ssake,findahealthierwaytocope.”
ShestaresatmelikeI’vegoneinsane.Herlaughismechanical.“Losingher?Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”
Istareather.“Yesyoudo.Youlostsomeoneyouloved,andyou’renotevensurewhatkindofloveitwasinthefirstplace,sonowyou’returningintoamanipulativenarcissistwhocan’tstopcravingIrene’sattention.”
Charlottegoesvery,verystill.“Whatevershetoldyou,it’sbullshit.”
“It’snot.”Shelooksreadytopounce,soIraisemyhands.“Andbeforeyoufreakout,youshouldknowthatshetoldmeinconfidenceandI’mnotgoingtotellanyoneelse.ButIgetit:You’rehurting.You’reactinglikeacompleteandutterassholebecauseyou’reinpain.That’snotanexcuse,butstill.Iknowhowitfeelstobeinlovewithsomeoneandtoloseher,andthenmakebaddecisionsbecauseyoumisshersomuch.I’vebeenthere.Igetit.ButIthoughtyoushouldknowitdoesn’thavetobethatway.”
Charlotteblinks.“Idon’tunderstandyouranglehere.Youhurther.You’renobetterthanme.”
There’sthetiniestnoteoffragilityinhervoice.Itnearlybowlsmeover.Ijuststandthere,tryingtofigureouthowtoanswerher.She’snotwrong,butwearenotthesame.
“Look,Scottie,whateveryourdealis,Idon’tknowwhyyou’retryingtoexplainittome,”Charlottesays,shakingherheadlikeshecanshakeoffthisentireconversation.“It’stherestoftheschoolyouhavetoproveyourselfto.”
“Idon’thavetoproveanything.MyfeelingsarebetweenIreneandme.”
Shesmilesalmostpityingly,likeshe’sbattle-wornandI’mnaive.“Don’tberidiculous.Wehavetoproveeverything.That’swhatIdoeverytimeIstepontothefield.That’swhatyoudoeverytimeyoustepontothecourt.Whatwedowhenwewalkthesehalls.Whatarewedoing,ifnotprovingourselves?”
“Maybeweare,”Iconcede.“ButIthinkwe’dallbemuchhappierifwejustbelievedeachother.”
Charlotteswallows.Shelookslikeshewantstosaysomethingelse,butinsteadsheturnsaroundandstalksoff.
Hervoiceplaysinmyheadallnight.Wehavetoproveeverything.IthinkofKevintryingtoprovehimselfonguitar.Danielletryingtoproveherselfwithtestscoresandleadership.Irenetryingtoproveherselftoourwholeschoolwithoneperformanceafteranother.
Ireneonthesidelines,commandingattention,mirroringthecrowd’sfeelingsbacktothem…
Andthat’swhenithitsme.
IknowwhatIhavetodo.
18
IfindHoney-Bellebeforeschoolthenextmorning.Shemustpickuponmyurgency,becauseshestopsreadingherhoroscopeandgivesmeherfullattention.
“She’snotmadatyou,”shesaysbeforeIcanevenopenmymouth.“Itjusthurthertoseethatpictureagain.AndithurtherthatCharlotteturnedyourfakedatingschemeagainsther.”
Istiffen,realizingHoney-Belleknowsthetruthaboutourwholecharade.IrenemusthavetoldherafterCharlotte’santicsintheparkinglot.
“I’msorry,”Itellherfeebly.“IhatethateveryoneassumesIreneisthebadguy.”Ipause,loweringmyeyes.“Forawhile,Ithoughtshewas,too.Turnsoutshe’sactuallyamazing.”
Honey-Belleshakesherhead.Sheseemsdisappointed,butnotsurprised.“Peoplejustdon’tseeIrene.Theyseeherlooks,hercharisma,hersocialstatus,buttheydon’tseethewayshecaresaboutthings.Cheerleading.GrandmaEarl.You.WhyareourclassmatessowillingtobelieveIrenewoulduseyou,butnotwillingtobelieveshe’sinlovewithyou?”
Mybreathcatches.“Shetoldyoushe’sinlovewithme?”
“Ofcoursenot.”Honey-Bellestaresatmeimpatiently.“I’mafreeassociationthinker,Scottie.I’mreadingbetweenthelineshere.”
“Right.”Ibitemylip.“Look,Ihaveanideatofixeverything,butI’mgonnaneedyourhelp.”
Honey-Belleassessesme.Hergrayeyesseemtogorightthroughme.“AreyouoverTally?Like,forrealforreal?”
It’sthefirsttimeI’vebeenaskedinawhile,andI’mshockedtorealizetheanswernow.
“Yeah.”Ismile,unabletokeepfromlaughing.“Yeah,Ireallyam.”
Honey-Bellegrins.“Thenit’stimewewinbackyourgirl.Whatdoweneedtodo?”
“YouandIwearthesamesize.Doyouhappentohaveanextracheerleadinguniform?”
Wehavelessthanaweektopulleverythingtogether.First,IhavetoconvincethecheerleadingsquadbehindIrene’sback.They’reunderstandablywaryofme,butwithHoney-Bellemakingmycase,we’reabletogetthemonboard.Theyagreetohelpeventhoughitmeansextrapracticeontopoftheirregularpracticetime.Next,Ienlistmyfriends.I’llneedbothKevinandGunther’shelptopullthisoff.DanielleevengivesmeherblessingtositoutthefirsthalfoftheCandlehawkgame.Shesaysitwiththeauthorityofanofficialcoach.
Isprintthroughthenextfewdaysonpureadrenalineandanxiety.School,thenbasketballpractice,thensecretcheerleadingpracticeafterIreneleaveseachday.There’soneeveningwhereI’mconvincednoneofthiswillcometogether,butHoney-Bellehugsmeandassuresmetheuniverseisworkinginourfavor.
OnthedaybeforethedistrictchampionshipgameagainstCandlehawk,Idon’tsetfootinthegym.Instead,Ileaveschoolattheregulardismissaltimeanddrivetothemiddleoftown.GrandmaEarlEyeAssociatessitsnextdoortothekaratestudiowhereIusedtocomewhenIwasyounger.Nowonderthenamesoundedsofamiliar.
Thereceptionistgreetsmeandasksformyappointmenttime.WhenItellherthat’snotwhyI’mhere,shefrownsdramaticallyandsays,“Oooh,honey,wedon’tneedanymoreGirlScoutcookies.Dr.Abrahamalreadyboughttwentyboxes.”Shelooksseriouslyatmeandrecitesthenextpart.“Dr.Abrahamcaresverydeeplyaboutsupportingyoungwomen.”
“Um—yeah.Funnyyoushouldmentionthat.I’mheretotalkaboutIrene.”
Thewoman’seyebrowsjump.“Herdaughter?Issheintrouble?”
“No.I’mafriendofhers,andI’dreallyliketospeakwithDr.Abrahamaboutsomethingimportanttoher.Icanwaitforaslongasittakes.”Toemphasizethepoint,IplopdowninoneofthewaitingroomchairsandkickbacklikeIhaveallthetimeintheworld.Ievengrabamagazineoffthesidetable.
Thereceptioniststandsup.SheeyesmeasshecrossestothebackofficewhereDr.Abrahammustbe.“Verydetermined,”shesays,almostlikeshe’simpressed.“Nowonderyou’refriendswithherdaughter.”
Whenshereturnsaminutelater,Dr.Abrahamisonherheels.“Scottie,what’sthis?”Dr.Abrahamasksabruptly.“IsIreneokay?”
“She’sfine.Ijustwantedtoaskyousomething.”
Dr.Abrahampursesherlips.Sheadjustsapieceofhairthatfelloutofplace.“Allright.Followme.”
Sheleadsmeintoanexaminationroom.WesitacrossfromeachotheralmostlikeI’mhereforarealappointment.Ilookdistractedlyaroundatthefancyequipmentandwalldiagrams,tryingtosteelmyself.
“I’mconfusedaboutyoubeinghere,”Dr.Abrahamsays,hershrewdeyesuponme.“Irenetoldmeyoutwowereonabreak.”
“Weare.”Iclearmythroat.“I’mhopingtorectifythattomorrow.”
Dr.Abrahamtiltsherhead.“Isthisoneofthoseprom-posalthings?Areyouheretoaskformypermission?”
“No.ButIwouldliketoaskyoutocometoourdistrictchampionshipgametomorrow.Girls’basketball.We’replayingCandlehawk.”Isitupstraightandlookintoherperplexed,beautifulface.“Dr.Abraham,didyouknowIrenechangedtheentirecheerleadingschedulesothesquadcouldcheerforourgamesinsteadoftheboys’?Shebasicallyoverruledhercoachandgotherentireteamonboard.Theystartedcheeringatourgames,andsuddenlythewholeschoolshoweduptosupportus.Justbecauseofher.Becauseofherinitiative.”
TheshadowofasmilegracesDr.Abraham’sface.“Yes,she’salwaysbeentenacious.”
“Shelovescheerleading.Andshe’sgoodatit.Itbothersherthatyouthinkit’sawasteoftime.”
Dr.Abrahampullsback.Shecrossesonelegovertheotherandregardsmewithasternexpression.Itdoesn’tscareme.I’veseentheexactsamelookonherdaughter’sface.
“DoyouthinkIdon’tunderstandhowmuchcheerleadingmeanstoher?”Dr.Abrahamasks.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaymildly.“Maybeyoudo.ButIrenedoesn’tthinkyouunderstand.Shedoesn’tfeellikeshecanfullysharethispartofherselfwithyou.Look,Dr.Abraham,IknowI’mspeakingoutofturnhere.I’mnottryingtobedisrespectfulandI’mnottryingtomeddle.It’sjustthatIrenemeansalottome,andIknowitwouldmakeherincrediblyhappyifyouwouldcomewatchhercheertomorrow.Shealwaysactslikeshedoesn’tneedpeople’svalidation,andmaybethat’strueforthemostpart,butshedoesneedyours.”Asuddenmemoryfloatsbacktome.“Imean,shesleepswiththatoldshirtofyourslikeit’sateddybear.”
Dr.Abrahamcloseshereyeslikeshe’stryingnottosmile.Sheexhales.Herbodyrelaxes.“Yes,Idoknowthatmuch.Shetriestohideitfromme,butI’veseenitinherlaundrypile.”
“She’salotlikeyou.”
“Iknow.”Dr.Abrahamnodsinthatwayallmomsseemtodo.“She’sanincrediblegirl.I’mveryblessed.”
“Soyou’llcometomorrow?”
Shelooksatmewithsomethinglikeamusement.“Yes,Scottie,I’llbethere.”Shestandsupandwaitsformetodothesame.Asshesteersmetothewaitingroom,shesays,“Thankyouforcoming.Icanseewhyshelikesyou.”Shesmilesatmefully.“Nicetoseethatmycheerleaderdaughterhasapersonalcheerleaderofherown.”
“Thanks,Dr.Abraham.”
“I’llseeyoutomorrow,Scottie.”
It’snotuntilI’mpassingthereceptionist’sdeskagainthatInoticethesmallrainbowflagstickingoutofthevaseinthecorner.“Isthatyours?”Iask.
ThereceptionistspinsaroundtoseewhatI’maskingabout.“No,Dr.Abrahamputthatthere.”Shesmilesknowinglyatme.“Shelovesherdaughterverymuch.”
Thechampionshipgamedawnsonacold,rainyFriday.IwakeupwithafeelinglikeIneverwenttosleep.
Theschooldaypassesinablur.Everyonehasgamedayfever,andwhileI’veexperiencedthisfeelingduringfootballseason,I’veneverfeltittothisdegree,notevenduringtheChristmasClassic.Peoplearewearingreindeerantlersinclass.Studentgovernmenthastapedupabannerwithourteampicturesonit.Daniellecan’twalkdownthehallwithoutourclassmateshuggingher.Nooneevenmentionstheboys’basketballteam,whichdidn’tqualifytoplayinthechampionship.Forthefirsttimeinrecentmemory,girls’basketballisthetalkofthetown.
As7:00P.M.finallyapproaches,I’mshakingwithnerves.Daniellegathersourteaminthelockerroomandtellseverysingleoneofuswhyshe’sproudofus.CoachFernandezisthere,butshemerelyhoversinthebackgroundlikeaphantom.Danielledirectshertocarryourwatercoolerouttothebench.
Whenwerunontothecourtforwarm-ups,Iwearmyjerseyandapairoflumpyoldsweatpantstohidemyoutfitunderneath.Ijoinmyteammatesinlayupdrillsandwarm-upshotseventhoughI’mnotplayinguntilthesecondhalf.I’llgetmyrealversionofawarm-upathalftime.
Thebleachersarepackedtocapacity.Somepeopleareactuallystandingbeneaththembecausetheycan’tfindaplacetosit.Iscanthecrowdformyfamilyandfindtheirlineofredhaireasilyenough;they’rewavingpostersandscreamingmyname.TheZandersaresittinginfrontofthemwithagiantFatheadofDanielle’sface.Mr.Zanderkeepsmakingitdance.
It’shardertofindDr.Abrahamintheseaofspectators,butItrustshe’sawomanofherword.She’llbehere.
Funnyenough,thelastpersonIlookforisTally,overontheCandlehawkbench.Ialmostforgotshewasplayingtonight.Ipicturedthismomentformonths—theculminationofmydreamtooutdoher—andnowthatit’shere,Ifeelnothingforher.Therealizationmakesmelaugh.
“What’ssofunny?”Danielleasks,jigglingherlegnervously.
“Nothing.Areyouready,Coach?”
Daniellegetsthatsteelylookinhereyes.“Soready.Areyou?”
There’sataponmyshoulder.IspinaroundtofindIrenestandingbehindme,glammedupinmakeupandhairglitter,hercheeruniformimpeccablypressed.ShegrinsmywayandIrememberverysuddenlywhyshewasnominatedfor“BestSmile.”
“Wantedtowishyouluck,”shesaysbreathlessly.
Ittakesmeasecondtorememberhowtospeak.“Youtoo.”
“Idon’tneedluck.”Shesmilesplayfully.“I’vegottheseroutinesdowntoaT.”
“Youdon’tsay.”
Hereyesarewarmonmine.“Gokillit,Zajac.”
“Show’emhowit’sdone,Abraham.”
Minuteslater,myteammatestaketheirplacesathalf-court.Iwatchnervouslyfromthebench,stillwearingmysweatpants.PeopleseemtobeconfusedaboutwhyI’mnotstarting.MyfamilyiswhisperingtotheZanders.Irenetossesmeaquestioninglook,pom-pomstightbehindherback.
Therefereethrowsthejumpballandthegamebegins.
It’sanevenlymatchedgameforthefirsttwoquarters.Danielleisonfire,butsoistheCandlehawkpointguard.Whenwescore,sodothey;whentheyhaveaturnover,sodowe.It’sfrustratingandemotionallyexhausting,butI’mproudofourscrappiness.Welookmuchdifferentthanwedidfourmonthsago.
Thecloserwegettohalftime,thehardermyheartpounds.ItextKevinoverandovertomakesureeverything’sallset.Honey-Bellekeepslookingatmefromthesidelines,hergrinpracticallygivingusaway.TheonlyunruffledonemightbeGunther,butit’shardtosaysincehe’shiddenbeneaththeFightingReindeercostume.
Thesecondquarterwindsdown.Inthelastminuteofplay,Candlehawkhitsathree-pointer,andthered,tinseledhalfofthecrowdgroans.Candlehawkisnowleadingbyfive.Myteamtriestocomeback,butDaniellemissesaninsideshot.
Andthenthebuzzerblares.It’shalftimeandmyteammatescomerunningoffthecourt,frustratedandtired.Butnoneofthemheadsforthelockerroom.Theygatheraroundmeinstead.
“Yougotthis,”Daniellesays,smackingmyarm.“Leaveitallonthecourt,right?”
Itakeadeepbreathandwipemysweatyhandsonmysweatpants.Andthen,usingmyteammates’bodiestoshieldmyself,Ipulloffmyjerseyandsweatpants.Nowit’stimetowaitforthesignalfromHoney-Belle.
Thecheerleadersgatheratthehalf-courtline,readytobeginwhateveryonethinksisanormalhalftimeshow.Irenestandsatthefront,strongandproud,readytoleadthem.
UntilHoney-Bellestridesupbesideher,grabsIrene’spom-poms,andthrowsthemaside.
“What—?”Irenesays,lookingscandalized.
Honey-Bellesayssomethingtoher.ShetugsonIrene’shands,pullingherawayfromthesquad.Ireneisresistant,lookingforbackup,stubbornasallhell.Honey-Belledragshertothebleachersandseatsherinthefrontrow.Bythispoint,thewholecrowdiswhisperingurgently.Nooneknowswhat’sgoingon.
Honey-Bellespinsaround,wigglesherhandsaboveherheadlikeantlers,andsprintsbacktojoinhersquadinthemiddleofthecourt.
Itakeonelastdeepbreathandwaitformycue.
Suddenly,deafeningmusicblaresfromthesoundsystem.Kevincamethroughwiththeaudio.
NowI’vehadthetimeofmylife…
Ibreakthroughthewallofmyteammatesandruntowardthecheerleaders.Theypartdownthemiddle,givingmecenterstage.Thecrowdissuddenlyscreaming.They’reputtingthepiecestogetherinoneswift,dizzyingmoment:theDirtyDancingtheme,theroutinewe’restartingup,andme,dancinglikeafoolinaregulationGrandmaEarlcheerleadinguniform.
ButI’monlylookingatoneperson.
Ireneisflabbergasted.Hereyebrowsarepracticallyuptoherhairline,hermouthhangingopen,herarmsfloppedathersides.Foronehorrifyingsecond,IthinkI’vegottenthisallwrong.
Butthenshelaughs.Thecrowdisroaringaroundher,I’mdancinglikeacompletebuffoontotheDirtyDancingsong,andIreneAbrahamislosinghershitlaughinginthemostunabashed,luminousway.
Igrinandlosemyselfintheroutine,concentratingonthestepsHoney-Belletaughtus.Wemixthedancestepsfromthemoviewithsomeofthesquad’sbestcheerroutines,anhomagetailoredexactlytoIrene’spassions.Myadrenalinehascompletelytakenover,mycheeksareonfire,myheartisburninginmythroat.I’mterrible,butI’mmovinginsyncwiththesquad,andthey’reallgrinninglikethey’rehavinganabsoluteblast.Thewholecrowdseemstobehavingthetimeoftheirlives.They’rescreamingtheirapplause,allofthemontheirfeet,evensomeoftheCandlehawkians.
TheFightingReindeer,a.k.a.Gunther,runsuptojoinusfortheiconicmoviemoment.Itakeadeepbreathandlineupacrossfromhim,andthecrowd’snoiseisthunderous.Theyknowwhat’scoming.
Atthatone,perfectmomentofthesong—thepartwhereJenniferGreylaunchesherselfintoPatrickSwayze’sarmssohecanliftherhighaboveeveryone—IrunstraightatGuntherandleapintohisfuzzymascotarms.Wecompletelybutcherit,ofcourse:HeliftsmeinakindofhalfpirouetteasIscreamwithlaughter,andwetwirlaroundtomakethemostofit,andallIcanhearisHoney-Belleshriekingwithgleewhilethesaxophonesoloechoesinmyhead.
WhenGunthersetsmedown,Istraightenmyskirtandturntofacethecrowd.Inasuddenrush,IunderstandexactlywhatIrenemeantthedayshetoldmecheerleadersregulateacrowd’semotion.Icanfeeltheirelation,theireuphoria,theirabsolutedelight.Thesongsoftensintothebridge,andIcoaxtheaudiencedowntoaquieterdecibel.ItapthelapelmiconmyuniformandwaitforKevintoturniton.
“ThankyouforcomingouttocheeronourFightingReindeer,”Isay,myvoiceboomingaroundthegym.“I’moutheredoingthischeesydancebecauseIhavesomecheesythingstosay.”IswallowandsaythenextpartlikeI’mshootingaprayerofathree-pointer.“IreneAbraham,Iwannatakeyouonadate.”
Thestandsgohaywire.Peopleareliterallyjumpingintheirseats.Irenelooksreadytopassout.
“I’vebeenfallingforyousincethesecondyouhitmycar,”Itellher,myvoiceshaking.“Youarethemostbrilliant,passionate,infuriatingpersonI’veevermet.Youmakemefeelseen.”
Iaddressthenextparttothecrowd.“AndI’velearnedfromdoingthis”—Igesturetothecheerleadersbehindme—“thatIreneiseverybitasathleticasIsuspected.SoIdon’tcarewhetherornotyouvoteforherforStudentAthleteoftheYear.Ijustwantyoutoknowshe’sworthyofit.”
Theapplauseisdeafening.IswallowandlookdirectlyatIrene.She’swearinganexpressionI’mnotsureI’lleverseeagain:completelydazed,likeshe’sbeencaughtoffguardforthefirsttimeever.ButwhenIextendmyhandtowardher,somethinginhershakesawake.Shespringsupfromthebleachersanddashestowardmewiththewholeschoolcheeringbehindher.
Andsuddenlyshe’sinfrontofme,andhereyesaresparklinginthatblazing,commandingwayshehas,andbeforeIcancatchmybreath,shegrabsmyfaceandkissesme.
I’mvaguelyawareofthecrowdlosingtheirminds,ofGuntherwhoopingsomewherebehindme,ofKevinloopingthetracksothismomentcanlastforever,buttheonlythingtrulyregisteringisthefeelofIrene’smouthonmine.Shekissesmehard,andwhensheletsgo,Iliterallyhavetoblinktosetmyheadstraight.
“Letmeshowyouhowit’sactuallydone!”sheshouts,andbeforeIcansayanything,she’spickinguptheroutinelikeshe’sbeendoingitallalong.Of-fucking-coursesheknowsthestepstotheDirtyDancingsong.Icanonlystandthere,laughinginshock,asIreneandhersquadfinishouttheroutinetothedelightofthethunderouscrowd.Andwhenthesongfinallyends,Ireneleansintomylapelmicandsays,“Nowcanwegivey’allsomerealFightingReindeerroutines?”
Ireneandhersquadseamlesslytransitionintotheirnormalhalftimeshow,ridingthewaveofthecrowd’senergy.Theirroutinesarekillingit.Thecrowdislovingit.Iscanhundredsoffacesandseejoyandbelongingandcommunity.
Onefacesticksouttome:Dr.Abraham,standingnexttoIrene’sdadwithMathewonherotherside.She’sbeamingwithpride,withamother’slove,clappingalongtoherdaughter’sperfectlyorchestratedcheerroutines.Mythroatissuddenlythick.
Whenhalftimeisover,Irenetakesmyhandandleadsmetowardthelockerroom.Shepushesmetowardthedoorandsays,“Getyouruniformon.Youarenotsittingoutforthesecondhalfofthisgame.”
Shedoesn’thavetotellmetwice.
Itreallydoesn’tmattertomehowthisgameends.I’msoeuphoricthatI’mplayinglikealittlekid,purelyforthefunofit,practicallyoblivioustothecompetition.IassistDaniellewiththreedifferentjumpshots;sheassistsmewithastealthatturnsintoalayup.It’seasilythebesttimewe’veeverhadplayingtogether.EvenwhenIshootanairballinthethirdquarter,Imerelylaughandkeepplaying.
Onemomentstandsouttome:Tallygettingfouledinthefourthquarter.ShetripsoverGoogyinthemidstofadesperatedrivetothebasket.Whenshehitsthefloorandbeginstocry,Idon’thesitatetorunovertoher.Icrouchnexttoher,offeringmyhand.Sherefusestotakeit.
“Idon’tunderstand,”shecries,wipingtearsaway.
Thewordsthatcomeoutofmymoutharen’tplanned.“It’sjustagame,Tal.Shakeitoff.”
Ishrugandrunoff,leavinghergawkingonthefloor.Thegamedoesn’tresumeuntiltheCandlehawkcoachsubsherout.
Inthefinalfewminutesofthegame,we’reneckandneckwithCandlehawk.Mycompetitivedriveovertakesmeagain.StressisrollingoffDanielleinwaves.Thetensioninthegymispalpable.
“Wehavetostoptheirpointguard,”Daniellepantsduringtime-out.“She’stheirbiggestscorer.Ican’tkeepupwithher.”
“She’snotgreatwithfreethrows,”Isay.“Wehavetokeepfoulingher.”
“ThatmeansDaniellewouldfoulout,”Googysays.“You’vegotfouralready,Danielle.Onemoreandyou’reoutofthegame.”
“Iknow,”Daniellehuffs.“I’mtryingtofigureitout.”
Anideastrikesme.“Hey…whatifIguardherinstead?Ionlyhavetwofouls.Plentytospare.”
Daniellefrownsatme.“AndItakeyourgirl?”
“Exactly.Onoffensewe’llstillplayshootingandpoint,butondefensewe’llswitch.IfIgetfouledout,itdoesn’tmatter.You’reourbestplayer,Danielle.Youhavetostayin.”
Ourteammateslookateachother.Therefblowsthewhistle.
“Okay,”Daniellesays.
Thelastthreeminutespassquickly.IguardtheCandlehawkpointguardanddrawtwofoulswhenshe’stryingtoshoot,butthestrategyworks:Sheonlymakesoneoutoffourfreethrows.Candlehawkisnowupbyonlytwopoints.
Atjustoveraminutetogo,theirpointguarddrivestothebasket.Isprintafterherandblockhershot.Myhandneveractuallytoucheshers,buttherefcallsafoul.Myfifthandfinalone.I’veofficiallyfouledoutofthegame.Thecrowdboosinanger.
“It’sallgood,”ItellDanielleasIheadtothebench.“Stayfocused.Youcanwinthis.”
Forty-fivesecondstogo.Thirtysecondstogo.Candlehawkstillleadingbytwo.Ican’tsitstillonthebench;IspringupandbouncewhereIstand.CoachFernandezisscreaming,butnooneislisteningtoher.Alleyesareonthecourt.
Fifteensecondstogo.Daniellebringingtheballdowntooursideofthecourt.Tensecondstogo.Googytryingtogetopenforapass.Fivesecondstogo.Danielletryingtoshakeherdefender.
Andthen,inthefinalseconds,ithappens.
Daniellebreaksfreeandshootsthemostbeautifulthree-pointer.Itsinkscleanlythroughthenetwithaperfect,satisfyingswoosh
Thebuzzerblares.Thegymisanexplosionofnoise.BodiesstartpouringoutofthestandsandIamrunningoffthebenchandGoogyishangingalloverDanielleandcrying.Ithrowmyarmsaroundthemandkissmybestfriendonhersweatyhead,andsuddenlyI’mcrying,too.We’reasaunaofheat,bodiespressinginfromallsides,andmyfamilyisthereandDanielle’sfamilyisthereandGuntherhasthrownoffhismascotheadandisyellingwiththereddestfaceI’veeverseen.
PeoplearegrabbingDanielle,shakingher,poundingherback.She’spracticallyliftedoffherfeet.ThensuddenlyKevinisthere,andhisarmsarearoundher,butbeforehecandoanythingelse,Daniellepullshiminandkisseshim.
Iamsobbing.Atleast,IthinkI’msobbing.It’simpossibletohearmyownvoice.Mysistersareholdingontome,andDaphneisstaringatDanielleandKevinlikethey’reinamovie.Mrs.ZanderisshriekingwithgleewhileMr.Zanderstandsdumbfoundednexttoher,hischeeksreddeningbythesecond,untilMrs.Zandergrabshishipsandpullshimintoadance.It’ssohumidandIcan’tbreatheandit’sthebestfeelingintheworld.
There’sanarmaroundmywaist,apressoflipstomycheek.
“Congratulations,”Irenesaysinmyear.“Thatwassomespectacularfoulingout.”
Iturninherarms,holdherfaceinmyhands.“Wouldyoubelievethelastonewasn’tevenreal?Ididn’tevenhitthegirl’shand!”
“Mmm,I’mgonnacallbullshitonthat.Youclaimedyoudidn’thitmycar,either.”
“Ihateyou,”Isay.ThenIkissherandkissherandkissher.
19
Lifesettlesintoacalmerpaceoverthenextweek.Withtheseasonover,andthetrophywon,myafternoonsaresuddenlyfree.IspendthetimehangingoutintheparkinglotwithIreneandourfriends.
Onabrittlelate-Februaryafternoon,Ireneshocksthefiveofusintosilencewhenshecasuallyannouncesshe’sdroppingoutoftheSAOYcompetition.
“Areyououtofyourmind?”Danielleasks.
“Irene,youcan’tdothat,”Iplead.“You’vebeenworkingtowardthisformonths.Years,even.”
Theboysstayquiet,butHoney-Bellesays,“Let’shearherout.ItrustIrene’sintuition.”
Irenesmiles.“Well,Ihadn’teventoldyouthis,”shesays,kissingmytemple,“butmymomhadthisbigtalkwithmelastnight.Herofficeisfilminganewcommercialsoon.Shewantsthesquadtobeinit.”
Honey-Belle’seyeslightup.“Thesquad?”
“Thesquad.Me.”Irenelooksreadytoburst.“ShewantsmetocomeupwithacatchycheerforGrandmaEarlEyeAssociates.”
“Ohmygod!”everyonesaysatonce.
“Onlyproblemis,whatrhymeswith‘associates’?”Guntherasks.
“Invertebrates,”Kevinsaysseriously.
“Okay,let’sworryaboutthatlater,”Daniellesays.SheturnstoIrene.“Yousaidyes,right?”
“Igotupandspelleditout.”Irenepretendsshehaspom-pomsinherhands.“Y-E-S!”
“God,youhaveaheinoussenseofhumor,”Itellherwhileourfriendscrackup.
“Buthere’sthebiggernews,”Irenesays,leaningintome.“ShesaidevenifIcan’tgetacheerscholarshiptoBenson,thatwecanstillworksomethingout.IcanhelpintheofficethissummerwhileherreceptionistisonacruisetoMajorca.I’mgoingtoBensonnomatterwhat.”
“Irene,that’samazing!”Honey-Bellesqueals.
“SoI’mdroppingoutofSAOY,”Irenecontinueswithashrug.“Idon’tneeditanymore.Idon’tcare.Besides,IwantDanielletowin.”Shelooksseriouslyather.“IneedyoutobeatCharlotte.”
Daniellestandsatattention.“Itwouldbemyhonor.”
ThedayDaniellewinsStudentAthleteoftheYearistheFridaybeforemyeighteenthbirthdayweekend.Ourprincipalannouncesherwinduringaspecialceremonyinthegym,withDanielle,Charlotte,andtheremainingtwocandidatesseatedbehindhim.NooneissurprisedtohearDanielle’snamecalled,butnearlyallofusaresurprisedwhenCharlottethrowsherchairoffthestageinafitofrage.EvenherfriendSymphonycan’tcalmherdown.Intheend,Mrs.Scuttlebaumhastobodilydraghertothenurse’soffice.That’showwefindoutthatScuttlebaumusedtobeaprofessionalrodeocowgirl.
Danielle’sSAOYvictoryisn’tasground-shakingasherbuzzer-beateragainstCandlehawk,buteveryoneisstillthrilledforher.Kevingivesheradozenredroses.Honey-Bellemakesheraflowercrown.GunthersecretlycutsofftheFightingReindeer’stailforDanielletosaveasakeepsake.
Allinall,theendofthatschooldayisprettyanticlimactic.We’rehappy,butit’sacomfortablekindofhappy.Tonight,thesixofusarehavingbirthdaydinnerwithmyfamily,andthenwe’regoingtotheMunnyforatripledatetoseeSixteenCandles.Irenehasalreadymadeuspromisetodebriefabouttheproblematicpartsafterward.Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenKevinandDaniellesoexcited.Theyliterallymadenotecardssotheywouldn’tforgetanyoftheirdiscussionpoints.Daniellesaystheymadeoutinhiscarfirst,thentookturnstradinghighlighters.They’redisgusting.
It’sabeautifulMarchdaywhenwebreakfreeoftheseniorlockerhallandwindourwaytotheparkinglot.Irenehasn’tjoinedusyet;shetoldHoney-BelleshehadtoemailtheBensoncheerleadingcoachfirst.It’sweirdtohearcollegenamesdroppedintoeveryconversationnow.IrenetalksaboutBensonalldaylong.KevinhasalreadygottenintoMorehouse.GuntherhashissightssetonKennesawState,andDaniellegotintoVanderbilt.I’mstillplanningonGeorgiaState;Icanpicturemyselfdowninthecity.Theonlyoneofuswhodoesn’tmentioncollegemuchisHoney-Belle,butthat’sbecauseshewantstotakeagapyear.She’sthinkingaboutbecomingadoula.Guntherhadtolookthatoneupwhenshetoldhimaboutit.
We’restrollinglazilytowardtheparkinglot,DanielleandKevinholdinghands,GuntherandHoney-Bellewrappingtheirarmsovereachother’sshoulders.It’snotthegroupIwouldhaveexpectedtofinishoutmysenioryearwith.It’sbetter.
Theearlyspringweatherisgentleandcalm.Goldensunonourhair,birdschirpingtimidly.ThemarqueehasreadPROMNEXTMONTHallweek,butsomeonemessedwithitsoitnowreadsPROMSEXMONTH
There’sasteadybeatofmusiccomingfromtheparkinglot.Weturnthecornerandheadtoourcars,andsuddenlythemusicisblaring.Athumpingdrumbeat.AlonefigurestandingbymyJetta—
It’sIrene,hoistinganold-schoolboomboxaboveherhead,wearingatrenchcoatoverhercheeruniform.SomuchcuterthanJohnCusack.Ilaughwithmywholeheart,becausewhatelsecanIdo?
Myfriendsdon’tlooksurprised:Theyhangbackandwatchmeapproachher.
Irenegrins,bitesherlip.Shedialsthevolumedownandsetstheboomboxontheroofofmycar.That’swhenIrealizeshe’snotevenplayingtherightsong.It’snot“InYourEyes.”It’stheFineYoungCannibalssongwelistenedtoduringourfirstweekcarpoolingtogether.
Igrinandpressintoher.“Whythesongchange?”
Sherollshereyes.“Becausetheotheroneissofuckingcheesy.‘SheDrivesMeCrazy’ismuchmoreourvibe.”
“Wheredidyouevengetthisboombox?”
“Balthazar’sAntiques.Fivebucks.Theguyhadtoshowmehowtouseit.”
“Incredible,”Isay,threadingourfingerstogether.“Butaren’tyouallergictoromanticperformances?”
Irenesmirks.Sheraisesthateyebrow,theonewiththescarIlovesomuch.“Notwhenthey’redonefortheirownsake.Andnotwhenit’syourbirthdayweekend.Besides,Ican’tletyououtdome.”
“Uh-huh,”Isay,leaningintoher.
Shekissesme.Ourfriendsstarttowhoopinthebackground.
“You’resomethingelse,”Itellher.
Hereyesdance.“Ireallyam,huh?”
“Shutup.”
Ipullherclosebythefabricofhertrenchcoatandkissheragain.Whenthesongstartstofadeaway,Ireneholdsahandtomymouth,spinsaround,andrestartsthetrack.Ilaughoutloud.
“Havetosetthemood?”
“Obviously,”shesays,andshekissesmeagain.
Youwouldthink,basedonthefactthatI’vewatchedtheSayAnything…boomboxsceneamilliontimes,thatIwouldn’thavebumblebeesinmystomachwhenmycheerleadergirlfriendreenactsitformeintheschoolparkinglot.
Youwouldbewrong.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Ihadsomuchfunwritingthisgoofy,campy,ridiculousbook,andIcouldn’thavedoneitwithoutawholecommunityofsupport.
MekishaTelfer,youdeserveatrophyforbeingthebest—andmostpatient—editorontheplanet.Thankyouforpushingmetomakethismanuscriptthebestitcouldbe.Thankyouespeciallyforloving“sweetbabyIrene”asmuchasIdo.
MariettaZacker,thisbookwouldn’texistwithoutyourinitiative.ThankyouandIloveyou.
TothewholeteamatRoaringBrookPress,includingAviaPerez,VeronicaAmbrose,ChristaDesir,SusanDoran,LindsayWagner,andMorganKane:Thankyouforyourcareful,attentivework.AuroraParlagreco,thankyouforyourbeautifulcoverdesign.
SteffiWalthall,yourcoverartisbetterthananythingIcouldhaveimagined.Thankyouforbeingsointentionalandcompassionatewiththesecharacters.Thanksfortalkingthroughideaswithme.You’reatrulyspecialperson.
Tomyfamily:Thankyouforcarryingmethroughthewritingofthisbook,especiallywitheverythingelsewehadgoingon.Mom,Dad,Freida,Sean,Michael,Annie,andQuinnP,youaremywholeworld.Iloveyouguys.
Shout-outtomygodfather,UncleTommy,forinspiringthefamous“ChuckMunny”cineplex.Ihopethisbookbringsreadersevenhalfthejoyyoubringourfamily.
AdrienneAnneTooleyandJennyCox-Shah:WheredoIevenbegin?Youaretwoofthegreatestgiftsinmylife.Thankyouforreadingeverydraftandofferingceaselesslygenerousfeedback.IloveyouandIthinkyou’rebothgeniuses.Soproudtobewritingsapphicstoriesalongsideyou.Blackheartsandsourbeersfordays.
JasmyneHammonds,thankyouforyourcarefulreading,thoughtfulnotes,andoverallcheering.I’mhonoredtocallyouafriend—andnowaneditorialsibling!
IreneisoneofmyfavoritecharactersI’veeverwritten,anditwasimportanttometounderstandherfamilybackground,culturalcontext,andwayoflookingattheworld.IamenormouslygratefultomyIndianandSouthAsianfriendswhoweresogenerouswithsharingtheirtime,personalexperiences,andperspectivesasIsoughttobuildIrene’sinnerandouterworld.ThankyouamilliontimesovertoNithyaAmaraneni,AnnieJacob,andJenishJoseph.Extraheapingsofthankstomyalways-frenemyandsometimes-lover,SanaSaiyed.
AndreaandDavidAlexander,thankyouforinspiringDanielle’sfamily(andsurname)andforgenerallybeingthebest.ThomasHicksandEllynZagor(g)ia,thanksforbravingtherainatthatlocalhighschoolfootballgame.Youarethebestresearchbuddies(Andshout-outtoThomasandToddforlendingyournamestoGuntherandKevin!).KateAustin,thanksforlettingmepickyourbrainaboutbeingaqueercheerleader(queerleader?)andforbeingsuchalighttotheLGBTcommunity.
SarahCropley,youareanextraordinarybetareader,librarian,andfriend.Thankyouforaccompanyingmethroughthreebooksnow!ClaireGibbs,myfavoriteteenbetareader,thanksforyourcarefulandthoughtfulfeedbackonearlydrafts.KathleenF.F.Rhoads,thanksforkeepingmybasketballreferencestightandforbeingmyperson.(Eessababiesss!)MeaghanQuindlenHansonandJessy“Bubba”Quindlen,thanksforbeingtestreadersandfangirls.RimaSalloum,IalreadyknowI’mgonnaaskyoutodrawScottieandIrenebasedonhowawesomeyourLTTPandHNITScharacterportraitswere,sothanksinadvance.LisaVincent,CassieGonzales,andKimberlyHaysdeMuga,thankyouforyourfeedbackonmyearliestdrafts.
Toallthebooksellers,bookbloggers,librarians,educators,readers,andwriterswhomakethiscommunitysolovingandrich:Thankyoufromthebottomofmyheart.
ALSOBYKELLYQUINDLEN
LatetotheParty
ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
KellyQuindlenistheauthoroftheyoungadultnovelHerNameintheSkyandLatetotheParty.AgraduateofVanderbiltUniversityandaformerteacher,KellyhashadthejoyofspeakingtoPFLAGgroupsandhighschoolGSAs.Shecurrentlyservesontheleadershipboardofanon-profitforCatholicparentswithLGBTchildren.KellylivesinAtlanta.Youcansignupforemailupdateshere
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CONTENTS
TitlePage
CopyrightNotice
Dedication
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Acknowledgments
AlsobyKellyQuindlen
AbouttheAuthor
Copyright
Copyright?2021byKellyQuindlen
PublishedbyRoaringBrookPress
RoaringBrookPressisadivisionofHoltzbrinckPublishingHoldingsLimitedPartnership
120Broadway,NewYork,NY10271
fiercereads.com
Allrightsreserved
LibraryofCongressControlNumber:2020912124
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eISBN9781250209160
Firsthardcoveredition,2021
eBookedition,2021
© Copyright Notice
The copyright of the article belongs to the author. Please do not reprint without permission.
THE END
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