The Catastrophic History of You And Me

by Jess Rothenberg

  “Right. I’m sure once an hour was plenty.”

  I smacked his arm.

  A few more minutes passed and Patrick began to grow restless. “He’s not coming, Cheeto. We’re being dumb. Or allow me to rephrase. You are being dumb.”

  I spun to face him. “Well, you can leave. In fact, would you? You’re messing with my concentration and I want to be ready.”

  “Oh, trying to get rid of me, are you?” He leaned back against his telephone pole. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  I shook my head, exasperated. “Stay, go, whatever. I really don’t care.”

  All of a sudden—my senses on high alert—I heard the sound of bike wheels. I felt a cool, nervous sweat break out all over me. He was close. I could sense it. And then I saw the front tire of his bike make a right turn onto Mill Street.

  I froze. It was really him. His hair was wild like he hadn’t cut it in months, and he looked broader across the shoulders.

  He’s getting older.

  The thought stung a little. Everyone was getting older. Everyone but me.

  “Ready?” I hunkered down, taking position.

  “I still say you’re crazy,” Patrick grumbled.

  “That’s funny, because I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

  The two of us stood opposite each other, about six feet apart—Patrick against the telephone pole and me against the window of the Garden Deli Café, where PCH seniors always came for lunch. The plan was to give Jacob a big scare right before his track meet. He was pretty superstitious, especially when it came to track, so I wanted to do something that would really freak him out and—hopefully—ensure he’d fall apart in front of the whole school. I needed to embarrass him.

  No, I needed to humiliate him.

  “Let the games begin,” I whispered.

  He biked closer and closer, until finally I could see the whites of his eyes. My own personal Battle of Bunker Hill.

  Uh, taking this a little far, aren’t we?

  “Wait for it,” I said. “Wait for it . . . okay, now!” We jumped into Jacob’s path, using our arms to make a chain like in the game Red Rover. I squeezed my eyes shut just as Jacob rode directly through me.

  I could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest. I could feel his pulse traveling through my veins. I could smell the dirt under his fingernails. For half a second, I dared myself to open my eyes. It was incredible, like a real life version of Mrs. Frizzle and her magic school bus, traveling through the human body. I saw his blood and cells and arteries, all living and breathing and pumping around me in a perfect, pulsing rhythm. Everything Jacob Fischer was engulfed me all at once, and the force of it almost knocked the wind out of me.

  I dug my heels in deeper. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

  “Holy crap!” Jacob yelled, losing control of his handlebars. I heard the chain pop off his bike as he skidded to the left, crashing right into the pile of trash bags I’d dragged over from behind the deli. His bike went slamming into the telephone pole and into the street. An oncoming car swerved, but ran over the back wheel.

  Tha-WUMP.

  “Man down!” I threw my arms in the air and broke into a small victory dance. Jacob groaned and rolled over in a big pile of stale hoagies and old salami.

  “Congratulations,” Patrick said. “Happy now?”

  I skipped toward him and gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Yup.”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “What was that for?”

  I smiled. “For being an excellent partner in crime.”

  Jacob slowly climbed out of the trash heap and got to his feet. He looked super-confused and—just as I’d geniusly predicted—super-freaked-out.

  “Hey, you okay?” A guy from the deli poked his head outside. “We all saw you wipe out, dude, that looked rough.” He nodded at the pile of trash and laughed. “Lucky fall, though. We usually don’t push the garbage out until closing. Looks like someone’s watching out for you.”

  Oh, you have no idea.

  “Yeah,” said Jacob. “I’m not sure what happened there. Guess I zoned out for a second or something.” He eyed his bike and the filthy sidewalk. “Sorry for the mess, man. I’ll clean it up.”

  “That’s right,” I snapped. “You’ve made a big mess, Fischer. And I’m here to make sure you do clean it up.”

  Patrick smacked his head. “Women.”

  “Onward!” I grabbed his hand. And zoomed us straight to The Burp.

  CHAPTER 26

  you oughta know

  The Burp was jam-packed (i.e., perfect for what was about to transpire). Kids from all walks of high school life were there. The dorks; the druggies; the cheer-tators; the hipsters with their mullets and ’50s-style librarian glasses; even the dramaturds had all come out for this one. I checked the scoreboard and saw why. We were up against the San Mateo Cyclones. A rivalry that had been going on forever, since at least the ’90s.

  Finally, things are starting to work out in my favor. My, my, how the tables have turned.

  I giggled maniacally at my good fortune. This was clearly going to be the BTME (Best Track Meet Ever).

  “Just a heads-up, you sound like Dracula over there,” Patrick said. “Can you do me a favor and stop with all the evil monster sounds? You’re starting to freak me out, Cheese Breath.”

  As had become our little custom, I ignored him. “Where’s the phone?” I reached for his pocket, but he blocked me.

  “Not so fast, lil’ lady.” He took Sadie’s iPhone out and waved it over my head. “Looking for this?”

  I jumped up, trying to swipe it away. “Don’t be a loser. Give it to me.”

  “Only if you promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I promise.” He handed it over and I keyed in Sadie’s password, the same one she’d used since forever.

  Juilliard.

  Then I tried to put myself in her head and wrote Jacob the most Sadie-like text I could come up with.

  JF! OMG at the Burp! R u here yet? Brk a leg!

  Mwa-ha. Break a leg.

  I snorted at my own joke and Patrick gave me a suspicious look. “What’s so funny?”

  “Afraid that’s classified information.” Then I hit SEND.

  He groaned. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  A few seconds later, the phone buzzed. Jacob had replied.

  On way. Bike trashed. Can u give me a ride 2nite? xx

  I read the text a few times over. There it was. The unmis-takable Double X. For love. I felt a charge of excitement rush through me—the same feeling I used to get whenever he would text me to say hi, or remind me how adorable I was.

  “News flash, Cheese Face, he’s not texting you,” Patrick said. “He thinks he’s texting her.”

  I glared at him. “Oh, really? Thanks for clarifying the incredibly obvious.”

  A minute later, I saw Jacob walking his banged-up bike over to the racks and throw it down without bothering to lock it up. I followed him over to where all the runners were stretching and watched as he began to warm up.

  There was no question that he was the best sprinter at PCH. College recruiters had been buzzing around him like honey bees since eighth grade, ever since he’d broken a crazy record set by a senior named Mike Remy. Princeton University had more or less guaranteed him a spot on their team, so long as he kept up his GPA until graduation. He was a star. Popular in a low-key sort of way. He had always been the easygoing, sweet, all-around good guy. Everyone liked him. Everyone always had.

  He wasn’t the kind of dude to sneak around with his girlfriend’s best friend. And definitely not the kind of dude to betray the people he cared most about. That’s why the whole heartbreak thing had been so hard to believe, and so completely out of left field. The strong, steady, dependable ground had simply collapsed beneath me. No warning bells. No fire alarms. No elephants stampeding inland days
before a tsunami.

  To be totally honest, even after all this time, part of me still couldn’t believe it.

  Jacob and Sadie.

  The whole thing just didn’t make any sense.

  But something was different now, as if the planets had shifted. I could see it in the way the other kids watched him, moved around him. The way his teammates narrowed their eyes and lowered their voices as he walked by.

  What’s going on?

  Jacob stretched his right arm across his chest, then switched to the left.

  “Hey, Fischer, you’re late,” said Coach Bobby. “Get warmed up. You’re next.”

  “Sorry.” Jacob put his head down and jogged the rest of the way toward his team.

  I watched their facial expressions as he joined them. Yup, something was definitely off. The looks weren’t friendly. There were no smiles or “what up!”s or high fives. There was nothing but awkward, uncomfortable silence.

  My skin crawled with utter delight as the truth sank in. “They know,” I whispered. “They all know what he did to me.”

  “So what you’re saying is,” Patrick said, “our work here is finally done.”

  I laughed sarcastically. “Keep dreaming, Patricia.”

  The sprinters walked to their starting blocks, Jacob taking the lane farthest on the inside.

  Perfect.

  “Runners, take your mark!” Coach Bobby yelled, raising the starting gun above his head.

  The boys kneeled down.

  “Runners, get set!”

  They got into position.

  “Runners, go!”

  I heard the crack of gunfire and watched as they took off, muscles flexing and hearts pounding.

  It was a short race—just a hundred meters. Jacob was in the lead. I watched his eyes narrow in on the finish line as the crowd cheered the home team on.

  P-C-H! P-C-H! P-C-H!

  They were all about to see what I could do, all the way from the Great and Sucky Beyond. Everyone was watching. The entire high school. All the faculty, and all the parents.

  Off to the side, high in the stands, a pretty, dark-haired girl sat all by herself. I could see her face perfectly, as if the clouds had opened up and put a spotlight on her.

  Sadie.

  I smiled again as I watched Jacob racing toward me on the track.

  “Eat your heart out, Russo,” I whispered, crouching into final position. He had nearly reached me. I could almost see the outline of my reflection glimmering in his dark blue eyes.

  For an instant, I remembered the sound of his heartbeat and felt ashamed of what I was about to do.

  But I also remembered the sound of mine.

  I clenched down, stuck my leg out, and focused harder than I’d ever focused before. Braced myself for impact, because yeah, this was probably going to hurt. Although it was going to hurt him a lot more than it was going to hurt me.

  3—2—1—CONTACT.

  In an instant, the world came to a screeching halt. I heard the sound of bone shattering. I heard the crowd go silent as their former MVP went sailing face-first into the asphalt.

  And then, like music, I heard the sweet, splendid victory of my ex-boyfriend’s Princeton scholarship vanishing into thin air.

  CHAPTER 27

  cry me a river

  Patrick wasn’t speaking to me. He was “punishing” me. Because I’d, quote-unquote, “gone too far.”

  “No offense,” I said, “but I’d say a sprained leg in exchange for a demolished heart is a pretty good deal.”

  His eyebrow shot up.

  Sprained?

  “Okay, okay,” I relented. “Fractured. Whatever.”

  The crowd was still in total disarray when the ambulance arrived to take Jacob to the hospital for X-rays and a cast. Besides the EMTs, me, and Patrick, only one person climbed into the back to ride with him the whole way. Sadie. Seriously, could these two possibly be any more cliché?

  The four of us sat together in silence as the ambulance sped toward the hospital. “Aaaand this is awkward,” Patrick said.

  I didn’t reply. I was too busy shooting death glares at Sadie, hoping she might spontaneously combust.

  “What happened out there, Jake?” Sadie put her hand softly on his. “What the hell did you trip over?”

  “Take it easy,” he snapped at the EMT who was bandaging him up. He threw his hands up angrily. “I dunno, okay? Nothing. I tripped over nothing.”

  “I mean, you had to have tripped over something. Everyone saw it.”

  “So then why are you asking me?!” he shouted. “If everyone saw it, maybe you can tell me what happened.” He put his head back on the stretcher and his voice wavered. “I mean, Jesus. This changes everything. This”—he pointed at his bandaged leg—“ruins everything.”

  “Maybe not?” she tried to reassure him. “Let’s wait and find out what the doctor says and we’ll—”

  “It’s broken,” he said bitterly. “This was my ticket out of here. The only chance I had to make a clean start. And now I’m completely screwed.” He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced in pain. “I swear to god, it’s like there was some kind of force after me today. First the bike and now this.”

  Sadie reached over and carefully brushed a stray curl out of his eyes.

  Vomit.

  “What do you mean? What happened with your bike?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? I texted you about it before the race.” He scowled angrily. “When you told me to break a leg.”

  Sadie shook her head, confused. “Jacob, what are you talking about? I never texted you that.”

  Jacob stared at her for a long second, then grabbed his bag and began rifling through it. Finally, he pulled out his phone, scrolled through his texts, and handed it to her. “Oh no?”

  I watched her eyes go wide as she read. “I didn’t write this. I don’t know who did. I lost my phone earlier today, at Wendy’s, I think. Something weird was happening to Emma’s car and I must have dropped it. Someone else must’ve picked it up. Someone else wrote this text.”

  Patrick gave me an evil look.

  Whoops.

  “Emma,” Jacob said, his voice full of resentment. “It was totally Emma.”

  Sadie shook her head. “Em wouldn’t do that. She and Tess apologized to me today.”

  He looked up. “They did?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “I’m calling your phone,” he said, still doubtful. “Let’s see if anyone answers.”

  Uh-oh.

  I locked eyes with Patrick just as Sadie’s phone began to vibrate from inside my dress pocket.

  “You gonna answer that?” Patrick asked.

  “Um, don’t think so,” I said, blushing. “Think I’ll just let this one go to voicemail.”

  He smirked. “Good idea.”

  The ambulance came to a jarring stop a few seconds later, and the back door swung open. Patrick and I jumped out as some dudes wearing bright orange jackets told Jacob to sit back. Then they counted to three, lifted his stretcher from the van to the ground, and transferred him into a wheelchair.

  “I’ll wait out here for your mom and dad,” Sadie called to him. “See you inside.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “And listen, don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. Princeton is not going to do anything drastic. We won’t let them. I promise.”

  I could tell Jacob didn’t believe her. But he offered her a small smile anyway. “Thanks, Sades,” he said softly as they started wheeling him inside. “What would I do without you?”

  Oh, I dunno. Maybe still be dating me?

  “God, enough!” Patrick shouted. His face grew flushed, and for once he actually looked angry.

  “Hey! Don’t yell at me!” I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, accidentally exposing his scar.

  He pulled his arm back.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I said. “I keep forgetting how sensitive you are about your wardrobe.”

  The look on his face told
me he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

  “Listen,” I pleaded. “I’m really sorry, okay? I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes you did,” he blurted out. “You’re not sorry at all.”

  I felt terrible. I’d never been a mean girl. I’d never even killed a cockroach, for god’s sake. This was the first time I’d ever been this vengeful, period. But come on, I had my reasons. I was sick of always being the nice girl. I was sick of always being the good friend who got taken advantage of. So for once, I had done something about it. And okay, yeah, maybe a few people had gotten hurt along the way.

  But so what? They were the ones who deserved to get hurt.

  I could feel little traces of black smoke starting to peel off my skin. I felt bad for being a jerk, but at the end of the day, this really wasn’t any of Patrick’s business. Seeing his self-righteous, Tom Cruise-y, Holier Than Thou expression, I started to get mad. I started to get mad that he was mad. How dare he?

  “And what if I’m not sorry, huh?” I challenged him. “I don’t owe anyone an apology.” I began walking toward the emergency room entrance. “Especially not you.”

  Patrick grabbed my arm. “Brie, don’t.”

  I tired to pull away. “Let go of me.”

  “I shouldn’t have encouraged this,” he said. “This whole thing’s been a mistake. You’re holding on too tightly. I see that now.” He tightened his grip. “I get it, okay? Believe me, I know this feels like fun to you, but you’re only making things worse for yourself. You’ve got to let go of this desperation. You’ll never have a chance of moving on otherwise.”

  “So what?” I shouted, breaking away. “Maybe I don’t care about moving on. Maybe I’m way happier here than I’ll ever be at Slice. Maybe I don’t give a shit what stupid stage on your stupid list comes next. Maybe I’d rather be with my friends and my family than spend my whole stupid eternity with YOU.”

  His eyes flashed. “Friends? I know that you and I grew up in different times, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how you treat your friends.”

  “They’re getting what they deserve! The two of them! You know they are!”

  “They’re paying for their mistakes, Brie. They’ve both suffered plenty since you left, probably more than you’ll ever know.” He reached toward me a second time. “It’s time to let that be enough. The game is over.”