Effortless With You (9 page)

Alex’s smile grows as I walk over. At least someone likes me.

“Lucy, you’re alive!” He gives me a quick hug.

“Yup.” I hug him back.

Alex turns and taps a cute freckled girl on the shoulder. “Sally, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is my girlfriend Sally.” I smile back. Her rich red hair is fixed in a cute, chopped bob, which her flowing tank dress and Converse shoes only accentuate. She has that 1950’s glamorous build to her in cute, punk clothing.

“Your boyfriend tried to save my butt the other day,” I explain. “He’s a smart guy.” Alex beams and Sally looks up at him with green doe eyes. I wonder if that’s how Zach and I look together.

“Smart? Are you sure you’ve got the right guy?” She nudges Alex in the side and he laughs. She’s playful, perfect for him.

“Sally’s a genius and loves to let me know it.” Alex turns to her. “Lucy’s the girl I’ve been telling you about. The one who got sick. You know, the girl who punched Justin in the hospital.”

“How’d you know I punched him?”

“I was in the truck bed. When Justin came out of the ER, he had a bag of ice on his eye. He told me to shove it. Solid punch, Lucy.” He puts his arm around Sally, being a good boyfriend. She is his priority.

“When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’m going to be the best painter ever,” I lie.

 “You ready for that ladder again?” he asks as he rubs Sally’s shoulder.

“Absolutely, all the way up.” Alex’s friends shuffle behind him, pool sticks and chalk in hand. “Well, I’ll let you go. See you in the morning?”

“Bright and early.”

I return to Zach’s side and watch him win their doubles game. He puts his arm around me and I blush. He loves wrapping his arm around me. Marissa winks at me on the way to the restroom.

“Darts?” Zach nods toward the board across the room where a group of guys have gathered. Throwing a dart in front of all of those guys doesn’t promise a shining moment for me. Or for Zach.

“Uh, not really. But, listen, that doesn’t mean you can’t go play.” I’m a super-relaxed girlfriend. “Wouldn’t bother me a bit.”

“Really? Awesome.” He dashes across the room and grabs the darts out of Matt’s hand.

And there I am again, standing alone.

So, I go to the bathroom. Something to do.

I sit alone in the stall reading graffiti.
Jenny <3’s Danny. Payton is a whore. Today, I will make a change!
The walls are a mosaic of proclamations of love, life advice, and insults. My right thumb nail is rather sharp. I think about carving in my own life statement. What should I say?
Don’t fall off ladders.
Not amazing but whatever, it's something to do while Zach plays darts. I start carving the
D
.

A clicking pair of high heels pass in front of my stall and the sink turns on. I see a pair of Converse sneakers pass in front as well. Why did I choose the middle stall? It always feels weird knowing people are standing right in front of me while I'm peeing. Thankfully, I'm just carving the wall.

“Excuse you.” It’s Marissa’s voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the sink would spray you.” The voice is gentle and sweet. Converse shoes. Sally.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t realize that, would you? You are just a stupid, ignorant … like ... what? Twelve year old?” Marissa is looking hard for a fight. Sally looks more like an eighteen-year-old than her true fourteen-year-old self. If Marissa accused twelve, that means she's jealous.

My abs tighten. A jealous Marissa meant for a nasty confrontation. I pick my feet up off the ground, not wanting to be there.

“Oh.” Sally isn’t prepared with a comeback. She shows weakness and Marissa pounces.

“What are you doing in here anyway?”

“Uh, going to the bathroom?”

“Well, this is the girls’ bathroom.”

“I know.” Oh sweet Sally. She is going to have to do better than that.

“Do you? Because with your hair, I’m pretty sure you’re an altar boy from the 1800s.”

“I—”

“Actually, no. If you were, you’d be skinny. I’m sorry,” Marissa’s heels click closer. “I was mistaken. You look more like a state-fair swine. All those pink, red, and disorderly freckles.”

Marissa is really stretching for insults. This only strengthens Sally’s case for being gorgeous. But, at fourteen, how can she know?

“Let me guess,” Marissa continues. “You had an entire burger for dinner?” Marissa waits for an answer which, thankfully, Sally doesn’t provide. “You did, didn’t you? Honey, if you want to look great like me, you can only eat a few bites.” Marissa’s heels click toward the door and then the door squeaks closed. Finally.

The sniffing starts. I watch the Converse shoes cross in front of my stall. The stall next to mine creaks open and shut. Her sniffing grows more urgent. The toilet-paper holder clangs against my stall’s wall. She sobs and blows her nose.

I want to give her privacy but I can’t. As far as she knows, she and Marissa were alone. The thought of being fourteen and having a senior rip you apart while her junior friend listened is enough to destroy any girl. She doesn’t need to know I was here.

I wait with my arms hugging my legs up on the toilet seat, barely breathing. Sally sniffles and her occasional sobs sound like they could be my own.

The toilet-paper roll clangs against my stall’s wall. One last sniff before Converse shoes walk out to the sink. Water splashes, the best way to calm a tear-stained face. The door squeaks open and shut. I'm alone.

I release my grip on my knees and my insides collapse. I should have opened the stall door and told Marissa to stop the moment she said “Excuse me.” I should have given Sally a hug and comforted her or at least explained how Marissa works. But no, I picked up my feet, hugging them to my chest on a toilet seat. How have I come to this?

I wash my hands out of habit and return to the pool room. My gut churns. Sally sits on a stool, Alex standing behind her giving her a slow, rocking hug. A smile is plastered on her face, trying to hold it all together. Alex whispers in her ear and she temporarily drops her smile, nodding. He takes her hand and leads her from the room. I'm impressed. He’s an in-tune boyfriend.

I jump when a hand suddenly rests on my shoulder. It’s ridiculous how easy I jump. But after that year of the seniors torturing me in the locker room, I just can’t help it.

“Marissa and I are going to run out to her car.” Zach rubs his chin.

“Yeah, you know my front tire? How it screeches when I turn left? Zach says he’d take a look at it.”

“Oh, okay.” Her front tire did squeak. “I’ll come watch.” I’d love to see Zach looking over a car. Guys like that.

“No need.” Marissa points me back to the pool table. “Stay, play, have fun.”

“Yeah, you can stay here, Lucy. It’ll be totally boring.” Zach pulls me to him, his hands around my waist, and gives me a kiss. “I want you to have a good time tonight.” He smiles down at me and my knees go weak. “Go play pool. I’ll be right back and then I can show you how to throw darts.” I nod. “Just you and me.” He kisses my cheek and then he and Marissa are gone.

I end up at the pool table, fighting a daze. I don’t want to play pool. I want to hang out with Zach and Marissa, watching Zach work on the car. His kiss threw me off. No. I want to be with him. I should be with him. As I turn to leave, I bump into Matt.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He has two pool sticks in hand. “I was just coming over to see if you wanted to shoot with me?” Matt holds out a pool cue.

I relent. Zach will be back soon anyway. “Okay, I suck though.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re just going to shoot. Any ball, any time, any pocket.”

I smile back at him. That, I can do.

I like shooting pool with Matt. He is quiet and simple. He says exactly what he is thinking but never too much. We talk about math class and the final exam. He got a B+ in the class. I tell him I got a C.

“What?” He straightens up in disbelief. “You always aced every pop quiz and test.”

“How’d you know?”

“My last name is Yates. Y before Z. I always correct your exams.” No wonder I always corrected Shaun Anderson’s paper. “So, how did you get a C?”

I cringe. It is one thing to have your parents call you out on your grades, but a classmate?

“Homework.” He looks at me with one eyebrow raised. “I hate busy work.” It's a lame excuse.

“Yeah, busy work sucks. I get that. But, I figure, if you can’t bring yourself to do it now, you’ll just have to do it later. Life happens that way.”

Is he talking about homework or is he being more philosophical? Maybe he’s saying I won’t get into college, so I’ll have crappy jobs the rest of my life. Or does he mean that life is always filled with busy work, so get used to it?

I shoot the number four ball into the left, back pocket. Or, maybe, just maybe, I'm thinking too much.

“I bet your parents were pissed, huh?” he asks.

“Yup. Grounded.”

“Is that why your mom crashed Watson’s party? You snuck out?”

I blush. I didn’t know Matt had been there.

“Exactly.”

Matt takes a shot, sinking two balls. “Then what happened?”

“Oh.” Other than the nurse, no one has asked me that before.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just. No one’s really wanted to know.” I hate that this is true.

Matt looks at the door that leads to our cars, where Zach and Marissa are. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then,” he rests his chin on top of his pool stick. “What happened?”

“They made me get a job.” And so I start my story. Matt nods and “uhuh’s” with me through my whole story. When I get through the hospital part, he simply says “that sucks,” and he means it.

It feels so good to tell someone who listens. Before I know it, I'm telling him about Justin and how he is driving me crazy mad.

“Oh, don’t sweat it. Justin’s awesome.”

I scrunch up my face. I was worried he’d say that. My respect for Matt falls a few notches. Why can’t regular people see how Justin is only crazy in love with himself?

Matt opens his mouth to explain but I never hear it. Marissa and Zach walk in together. Marissa announces, “Ten o’clock, Lucy. Curfew. Gotta get you home or your mom will kill me.”

I want to crawl under the pool table and die.

 Matt scrunches up his nose, studying Marissa and me. He walks with me to the door, pulling me aside as Zach and Marissa leave. “Why her?”

“It’s a long story. She’s not that bad. I mean, she is, but she isn’t. She saved me.”

“Saved you?”

“Again, long story.” Marissa honks her horn. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes. At my birthday party, okay? Don’t miss it. I’ll text you.”

Honk.

“Absolutely.”

Zach waits for me outside Marissa’s car. He opens his arms and I wrap myself in them.

“Thanks for the dinner,” I say, trying to sound intriguing.

“Yup. No sweat.” He pulls out of the hug and looks down at me with a relaxed grin. “I had a fun night.”

“Me too.” I lie.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night, okay?” He opens the passenger door for me and I slide in.

“Oh, okay.” The goodbye is too quick. Marissa starts pulling away and I haven’t even had a chance to kiss him.
Oh, okay
is the best thing I can come up with. Mental note: plan boyfriend goodbyes in advance.

 “I so need a boyfriend.” Marissa hits the steering wheel.

“You will snag the right guy, soon.” She looks at me like I'm crazy. “The Justin plan.” I smile, thinking about how annoyed Justin will become with her reckless pursuit. He deserves it.

“Of course. But that’s not now. With my calculations, it’ll be a month before I can seal that deal. That’s like half the summer.”

“But it’s worth it, right? I mean, Marissa, we’re talking about Justin here.” I suppress my gag. Marissa looks mad and lonely. If I can eliminate at least one of her emotions, the drive will be much more tolerable.

“You know what? You’re actually right. Justin is worth the wait. I need to focus, set my eyes on the prize, you know?”

“Exactly. Pursue him with all you’ve got.”

“Hell, yes.” Marissa giggles and puts her foot on the accelerator. Crisis averted.

How does Marissa live with her emotions constantly oscillating? Flirtatiousness. Jealousy. Loneliness. Excitement. Keeping ahead of her exhausts me. I can’t let her dwell; it’d be too easy to slip onto her bad side. I don’t want to be the lame friend with a ten o’clock curfew. Will I ever achieve a status she is happy with?

But then I think of Sally and wonder if I even want to.

CHAPTER NINE

Justin’s white truck sputters up my driveway. His door flies open and I wave him back. No way am I letting him come in. I can’t let him infiltrate my life further. Who picks up people at the front door anyway? Normal people wait in the driveway. Somehow Justin stays on top of the social pyramid when he clearly doesn’t play by the rules. It pisses me off.