What Matters Most (4 page)

This makes me smile. “Sure. I’d like to be friends.”

“Cool.” He looks sincerely happy. “And I can just e-mail you about the history project, okay?”

“That’d be great.”

Then he turns and walks away, and I feel totally confused. Like what just happened here?

So later, after I called Dominic about ten times, he finally answered and, in a grumpy tone, told me that he’d been out of town with his parents. “I was an usher in my cousin’s wedding last night,” he said stiffly. “I was going to tell you on Friday, but then you kind of blew me off, so I thought, why bother?”

“It would’ve been nice to know where you were.”

“Yeah, that way you can schedule your time with Wyatt.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s okay, Maya. I’m getting your message now, loud and clear.” Then he hung up.

So I’m sitting here totally fuming now. What is going on? Oh, it’s clear that I’ve hurt Dominic’s feelings and that he’s jealous of Wyatt. But what about that good old-fashioned honesty, like Caitlin encouraged? Why can’t Dominic just be truthful?

This is what I learned today. Yes, I might only be sixteen (until my birthday in December), but I don’t enjoy adolescent games like this. Yes, I do get pulled in, but I don’t like it. And now more than ever I’m sure I want this to be my senior year
of high school, and that’s exactly what I plan to tell Mrs. King tomorrow.

Dominic still hasn’t spoken to me since our little falling-out last weekend. I wish I could say I don’t care, but I really do. It makes me sad to see him by himself and looking so sad. And I especially miss him at lunchtime. Being stuck with Brooke and Amanda without Dominic to help balance things out just isn’t much fun. I suppose this was the reason I agreed to eat lunch with Wyatt today. Well, that and because we needed to work out some final details of our AP history project.

“This certainly looks cozy,” sniped Vanessa as she paused with her lunch tray.

“Hey, why don’t you join us?” I smiled at her.

I could tell Wyatt was surprised, but he just nodded. “Yeah, sure, why not? The more the merrier.”

Vanessa looked totally shocked, but then she actually sat down next to Wyatt and stared at me. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re just working on our AP history project.” I stuck my fork in my salad. “But I think it’s under control.”

“So how’s it going, Vanessa?” asked Wyatt.

It was obvious that we’d caught her off guard. With a suspicious expression, she looked from Wyatt to me and back at him again. “Okay, what’s up? What kind of game are you two playing here?”

“We’re not playing a game,” I said. “We’re just friends doing homework during lunchtime. Is there anything wrong with that?”

She scowled. “You guys are
just
friends? Yeah, right.”

“It’s true,” I assured her. “I wish we could all be friends.”

She laughed. “Oh, you mean
friends with benefits.”

I frowned. “No, that’s
not
what I mean.”

“So why aren’t you and Dominic together?”

“That’s a good question. The truth is, I hurt his feelings, and he’s not talking to me now.”

Vanessa pointed a finger at Wyatt. “So is that your story too? You two are just friends?”

He nodded toward me and grinned. “What she said.”

Vanessa seemed to be at a loss for words now.

“Look,” I told her, “it’s true. We are just friends. And Dominic and I were just friends too.”

“Then why is he mad at you?”

I considered this. “I guess because it’s hard to just be friends sometimes.”

She glared at Wyatt now. “You got that right.”

“But I think it’d be cool if we could.” I attempted a smile at her.

She softened now. “Yeah, I guess it would be cool. But I’m not sure that it’s possible.”

Wyatt brightened now. “But why not give it a try?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You mean by being just friends with you?”

He shrugged. “Or with Maya…or whatever.”

She looked at me now. “I don’t know… I’ve seen you hanging with those two Bible thumpers, and I’m not really into that.”

I kind of laughed. “To be honest, I’m not either. I mean, I am a Christian. But I don’t always agree with everything Brooke and Amanda say.” Then I told her about how they’d laid into me for being friends with Siobhan.

Vanessa laughed. “Well, I think I’d have to side with the Bible thumpers on that one.”

“I don’t see why,” I countered. “Siobhan is an intelligent and interesting girl. Sure, she’s no angel, but then who is?”

Vanessa’s expression got serious. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Although Siobhan has a pretty slutty reputation.”

“According to her, she made some bad choices a couple of years ago. But she says she’s not into that now.”

“She told you about it?” asked Wyatt with a little too much interest.

“Not the details,” I said quickly, not really wanting to go there, mostly for Siobhan’s sake. “Just that she wishes she hadn’t done it.”

“She said that?” Vanessa looked skeptical.

I nodded, then took another bite of salad. Siobhan and I have been talking a lot during art class, and she’s pretty open about her life. I honestly don’t think she’d mind if I straightened a few people out about her. Not that she seems to really care what people think. Or at least she acts like she doesn’t. But underneath…I think maybe she does.

But here’s the bizarre thing about lunch today. After we got over that initial awkward stage, the three of us (Vanessa, Wyatt, and me) actually had a pretty fun conversation. Oh sure, they gave me a bad time about being such a green freak. And now Vanessa calls me “Queen Green,” but it’s almost like we are friends. How weird is that? But here’s the coolest part—Dominic was watching. He was trying to look like he was reading a book, but I could see him glance up occasionally, then quickly back down. I could tell that our strange little trio must’ve had him thinking. So now I’m determined to try—just one more time—to talk to him. And I have a plan.

After school I went to see Marissa again. It’s not easy to go there, and I only go about two or three times a week now, but she looks forward to the visits. For that reason and because I care about her, I’ll keep going. Still, I feel guilty for not being more thrilled about seeing her. I mean, her eyes light up, and she gets this big smile, kind of like a little kid at Christmas. That should make me feel good. But it makes me sad. And sometimes it makes me angry—like I want to shout at her and say, “Look what you did, Marissa! Look how you messed up your life by going to a stupid drinking party when people who loved you—people like me—warned you not to! How many times did we tell you that drinking and driving do not mix?!” But how can I do that? Especially when she’s sitting there with her shaved head (from the surgery), looking rather pathetic with her scars and bruises still healing. And so I just sit down and talk to her like the therapist has encouraged us to do.

Today I told her about Wyatt and Vanessa and how I was eating lunch with them. She couldn’t remember who they were, which is not so unusual. For that reason we keep some old yearbooks in her room. I found pictures of both of them, not hard to do since they’re both so popular, but when I pointed them out, Marissa scowled.

She shook her head. “No,” she said gruffly.

“Why?”

“Bad girl.” She pointed to Vanessa’s smiling face in the cheerleader photo.

“I know. She’s a snob, and she can’t be trusted, but if God loves her, so can I, right?”

Marissa frowned at me, then pointed at the photo again. “Bad girl, Maya. Not good.”

I smiled. “Some people used to call you a bad girl, Marissa.”

She gave me a lopsided grin. “I
good
bad girl.”

“Maybe Vanessa will be a good bad girl too. People can change, you know.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Banana…no…” She looked confused now, and I had to think.

“You mean Vanessa?”

“Yes. Banessa.”

I put my upper teeth against my lower lip to make a
V
sound. “Vanessa,” I corrected her. This is something else we’re encouraged to do.

She imitated me and said, “V-v-va-nessa.”

“Good!”

“No. Bad. V-v-vanessa bad. Bad girl.”

“Okay,” I conceded. “Let me show you another bad girl who’s one of my friends.” I took the yearbook back and hunted until I found a photo of Siobhan. “Do you know her?” I asked Marissa.

“Yes.”

“Siobhan.” I said the name slowly.

“Shu-on,” she tried.

“That’s close,” I told her and then repeated the name slowly. “SHUH-bon.”

“Siobhan,” she said perfectly.

“Good!”

“Siobhan good.”

“Siobhan is a
good
girl?”

“Yes. Good girl. Good bad girl. Siobhan my friend.”

I was surprised by this. I didn’t recall Marissa hanging with Siobhan last year. But then I didn’t even remember seeing Siobhan around. Perhaps more surprising was that Marissa not only had managed to get her name right and to string some words together but had remembered Siobhan in the first place.

“You and Siobhan were friends?” I persisted.

“Yes. Friend. Siobhan my friend.” She pointed to me. “Maya my friend.” Then she pointed over my shoulder. “Chloe my friend. Allie my friend.”

I turned to see Chloe and Allie standing in the hallway. These girls have been friends with Marissa longer than I have. Even
before they started their rock band, Redemption. And when the band took off and they began recording and touring, they continued the friendship. Chloe, who looks like a real rocker chick with her spiky dark hair, pierced eyebrow, black leather skirt, and tall boots, waved to Marissa. “That’s right,” she said as the two of them came over to stand on the other side of Marissa’s bed. “We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

“Siobhan friend,” Marissa said again.

“Siobhan Blakely?” Allie glanced at me, but her blue eyes seemed slightly confused.

“Yeah,” I said. “I was telling Marissa that Siobhan is my friend, and she said Siobhan was her friend too.”

“That’s cool,” Chloe said in a way that reminded me of her sister-in-law, Caitlin. Both these girls are especially kind and gracious to everyone—no matter who they are.

At that point I was relieved to let Chloe and Allie take over the conversation. I just sat back and listened.

“Where Laura?” Marissa asked.

“Laura went to school,” Allie said. “Remember?”

“School over.” Marissa pointed to me. “Maya school over?”

“That’s a different kind of school,” Chloe clarified. “Laura went away to a college. Remember, college is where you go after high school.”

“That’s where Kim is too,” I offered. “At college.”

“Call…” Marissa tried.

“College,” Allie said clearly. “College is
after
high school.”

“College,” Marissa said slowly. “College
after
high school.”

“You’re doing really great,” Chloe said cheerfully. But there was sadness in her eyes. We all know that Marissa’s chances of going to college are probably pretty slim now. Still, miracles can happen. And I’ll keep praying.

In fact, I find myself praying for a number of miracles these days—like that somehow I’ll patch things up with Dominic and that Wyatt and Vanessa will eventually figure out that they need God as much as I do. But first and foremost on my mind is Shannon. Oh, I try not to think about it, but I know her appeal is just a week away. So mostly I just pray about it. And it’s not that I want God to keep my mother in prison. I mean, that’s pretty harsh. But I just don’t want her to make trouble for me. I don’t want to be derailed by her…again.

I
t seems that miracles still happen. Okay, it’s not going to make the local news, but it feels miraculous just the same. My plan for getting Dominic back on speaking terms actually worked! Here’s how it went down.

At lunch I found myself sitting with Wyatt and Vanessa once again. This time a couple of their friends joined us as well—I think out of curiosity more than anything. Like what were Wyatt and Vanessa doing hanging with the new girl? Then, as Dominic passed by, I slapped the seat next to me and called out to him. “Hey, Dominic, why don’t you sit with us?”

Okay, he looked so stunned that I worried he would drop his lunch tray and totally humiliate himself. But being the cool dude that he is, he just turned around, nodded, and sat beside me.

“So, Dominic,” said Wyatt all friendly like. “What’s up, buddy?”

Dominic’s clear blue eyes flashed, like he wanted to lay into Wyatt. “Not much.”

“Hey, Dominic,” I began quickly, “I really need to ask you a huge favor.”

His brow creased. “Like what?”

“Well, I wanted to do open mike at the Paradiso and—”

“No way,” said Vanessa. “You’d actually
do
that, Maya?”

“Sure. Why not?” I nodded and tried to look more confident than I felt. The truth is, I hadn’t even signed up to do open mike and hadn’t been sure that I would. It wasn’t until I opened my big mouth in front of everyone that I actually decided I would. Maybe it was my last-ditch effort to revive my friendship with Dominic and hopefully bury the hatchet for good.

“What are you going to
do
for open mike?” asked Vanessa’s friend Becca Johnson.