Dizzy

by Jolene Perry

  “Okay, so we’re thinking one of the first things we need to do is visit a few venues to decide where the wedding should take place.”

  The word venue makes me want to laugh for some reason. “Since you’re the ones taking the plunge, don’t you think you should pick the place?”

  “D!” Derrick gives me his pissed-off look.

  “I agree with him,” Ziah jumps in.

  Ha! “Seriously, though, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t see how we’re supposed to help with this one.” Or anything, but I don’t say that.

  “We have a big list of places we want to visit. It’ll take too much time, so we figure we could split the list, you two go and we can go. You guys can take pictures, write down all the price information and stuff, and it will help give us something to go on.”

  Lora looks like she practiced that speech in front of the mirror like a million times.

  “Why can’t I go with you?” Ziah asks.

  Lora looks stumped by that question. I have the urge to give Ziah a high five.

  Lora looks over at Derrick, and I lean closer to Ziah. “The surgery to separate them would take too long. We wouldn’t want the wedding postponed, would we?”

  She chuckles.

  I lean back in the seat. “I’m cool with going with Ziah.”

  Lora smiles. Derrick nods at me, but Ziah’s head whips around. “What?”

  “Excuse us for a second.” I start to nudge Ziah out of the booth, and she’s looking at me like she’s wondering what the hell I’m doing. But she goes. When we get to the hallway by the restrooms, I stop her. “You like talking about my brother?”

  She crosses her arms. “No.”

  “Good. I don’t like talking about your sister either. We separate them, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to want to chop our own ears off before long. At least if we do this together, we don’t have to watch Derrick pant around after her with his tail between his legs while Lora plays the sugar plum fairy filled with sugar and spice and everything nice.”

  And as the words come out, I’m wondering why I’m bothering with this. It would be a lot easier to talk my brother out of getting married if he’s detached from his girl. Instead I find myself, once again, determined to make Ziah smile.

  She’s close, but doesn’t do it. Damn, she’s a tough sale.

  “Fine, but this doesn’t mean I like you.”

  “News flash, but you’re not exactly my favorite person either.” Even though I do want to touch that one stupid strand of hair, just so I know what it feels like. And even though I just put us in a position to be spending a lot of time together.

  I need to pull back away from this girl. “Look. I think you and I could work about a million times faster than those two. We can take pictures and pretend to play nice.” Not a bad plan if I do say so myself.

  “Okay. I can do that.” She nods.

  “Good.” We head back toward the table. As we walk around the corner, I see Derrick nuzzling Lora’s neck. I sort of want to puke again, but it’s Ziah who freezes, her whole body going still as though she is unable to move. She gasps a little like it actually hurts her to see them or something. I mean, I definitely don’t like seeing them together, but it seems different with her.

  “Hey… you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” Not that I know what herself actually is, but it works.

  She bites her lip and turns to look at me. “How did you—” And then like she changes her mind she says, “Nothing. I’m fine,” before stomping back to the table.

  I pray to God she didn’t bring her voodoo dolls with her.

  Eight

  ~ Ziah ~

  Christmas passes in a blur of me trying not to think about James and Alyssa or Derrick and Lora, or what it’s going to be like to go back to school with them and plan a wedding that I’m not sure should even happen.

  I’m still pissed at Lora because freaking Dylan noticed something’s wrong with me while she’s still running around clueless. At this point, I’m not telling her out of principle.

  ***

  Two days after Christmas, I’m almost home from my run when I see James on my porch. I want to turn around and run away, but two things stop me. First off, I’m stronger than that. And second… he saw me.

  I slow to a walk, wondering what on Earth I’m going to say to him when we get close. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t want to know. The whole thing makes me sick, and it’s all bottled up inside me because I can’t talk to Alyssa, and my sister’s too busy with Derrick.

  James’ voice pulls me into the present. “Ziah, I…”

  “You do not want to hear what I have to say right now.”

  I point at him and push past where he’s standing on the sidewalk. How long has he been standing this close? And wow, I just sounded way tough.

  “No, no. I do. Let me have it. Say anything you want.” He keeps pace with me. “Anything so we can be back to the way we were.” He’s been crying, no doubt.

  “Tell me everything.” I stop to stare.

  He needs to say what actually happened, all of it.

  “I told you already,” he pleads. “I texted you everything.”

  Right. The texts I didn’t read. “Well. What would you say if I said I’d talked to Alyssa?”

  I haven’t talked to Alyssa, of course. I haven’t read texts or email, but I figure right now my best option is to pretend I have.

  His jaw drops. My heart rips a little further. It’s bad. More than once? Many times? I’m confused as to why he still wants me.

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I run up my porch steps and push open the front door.

  “Ziah, please…”

  “What? What else do you want from me, James?” You’ve already crushed me. There’s nothing left.

  “She was drunk, Ziah. And you don’t pull on me like that anymore. Like you really want me. I knew it was stupid. And it was just one time. I swear. When I was dropping her off.”

  Oh. Right. The night of the party; I really should have put that one together.

  I spin to face him, keeping the now half-closed door between us. She pulled on him. Her. On him. He kissed her. I knew half this already, but now I have something to formulate a picture, and it kills me.

  “I don’t want to talk to you, James. I don’t love you enough to stay together, and I’m trying to decide if I even like you enough to stay friends.” I slam the door in his face and cry because this should have never happened.

  And then I cry because James and Ziah are no longer, and because my sister hasn’t even asked. It’s been more than a week, and she hasn’t asked where he’s been or how we are. And then I cry even more because I want to talk to Alyssa. I miss her.

  I’m so stupid.

  Why the hell would anyone want to be in love? Why would anyone want to be married?

  I’m in my empty house, and I pace as tears stream down my face. What do I do? It’s not even like I have anyone I can talk to. My phone beeps.

  ALYSSA: WE NEED TO TALK.

  Oh. Right. James must have called her. This sucks. Now I’m ready to just—

  A knock at the door makes me jump.

  Crap. Who…? Oh no. Dread sinks further. Dylan. Stupid wedding location number one, and I forgot.

  I take a few deep breaths, but my throat is still ten times its normal size and my cheeks are wet from tears. My hands swipe my face over and over as I pull open the door. Dylan’s eyes widen when he sees me. I must look really bad.

  “Look.” But the word comes out all whiny and just talking makes my body want to cry again. I fan my face, but it doesn’t help. “Not a good time. Please. I’m sorry.”

  “Holy… Ziah. What happened?”

  I shake my head. Being humiliated at my own house alone is bad enough, but in front of Dylan? A million times worse. He’s one of the untouchable guys. Well…for a girl like me. The fact that we’re forced to be around each other doesn’t mean someone like him would ever c
hoose to be here.

  “Is anybody home?” He looks over my shoulder, probably hoping he can get an easy escape. That someone’s here to help the ridiculous crying girl.

  I start to say no but just shake my head. My breath is coming in these weird, gaspy chokes, and I can’t seem to make it stop.

  He waits a second and then his face changes. Like he’s determined. “Get your ass out here. You don’t have to talk. Let’s just… Mary makes everything better.” He smirks, but he looks like he’s really trying hard.

  I’m such a loser idiot.

  I let him take my hand and lead me to his car. I even climb in without giving him any crap over driving such a ridiculous vehicle, and then I realize I’m in long running shorts and probably smell.

  Dylan gets in, turns to face me, and settles lower in the seat. “Wanna talk or whatever? Or no?” His words sound almost painful. This has to be a million miles from what he’d normally do.

  “Lora didn’t even see.” Tears start running down my face again as I stare out his windshield “She knows me better than anyone, and she didn’t even see.”

  “Sorry, Ziah. For whatever.”

  I shake my head.

  “Can I take you to a friend’s house or something?”

  And then I shake in a sob, one I hope I can keep from turning into more. “No. She’s… This sucks so bad, I can’t even say it.” My body’s doing this weird quivering thing, and I pull in another breath, and I can’t believe I have to do this with HIM because I have no one else to talk to. “I think, since your party. She’s been weird and so has James, and…”

  “Oh, shit.” He knows. Of course he does.

  They’ve been weird for like two months, and I didn’t see it. But in just a few words, he’s caught on. I’m such an idiot.

  I shake my head and wipe my face again. “Don’t. It’s just. It is what it is, but it makes the whole wedding thing…”

  “Even worse.” He shifts in his seat and starts the car. “And Lora doesn’t know?”

  “Pre-occupied.” And as I breathe in again, my body relaxes. Not a ton. But a bit. Enough that I think I might be able to hold myself together for a while. I hate that my own sister hasn’t looked past her wedding since she’s been home.

  Dylan runs a hand over his hair. “That’s one way of saying they barely come up for air.”

  I start to put a foot on the dash like I always do but stop and pull my knees to my chest instead. “I’m sorry. I just… I mean, he just left, and I just found out. And…”

  “Nah. It’s cool. I got screwed out of pizza the other day, so we’ll get pizza. If we get around to the bullshit museum thing they want us to do, we’ll do it. If not, we can both claim bonding time or some stupid shit like that. Cool?”

  “Bonding shit, huh?” I almost laugh. Almost.

  “You’re about to crack a smile already. Damn I’m good.” He flicks on the radio.

  The Neon Trees. “I love that song,” I say at the same time he says, “I love this band.”

  “Jinx,” he says as his thumbs tap the steering wheel to the beat.

  “Wait? What? You can’t say jinx unless you say the exact same thing!” Everyone knows that.

  “Um, yeah I can. Dylan’s Hummer. Dylan’s rules.” His blue eyes find mine, and he gives me a ridiculous smirk.

  I shake my head. “Okay, then you can’t say jinx unless it’s 1995. Dork.”

  Maybe I can just hang with hot party guy. And maybe I’ll be able to function even though the guy who should be my boyfriend is with my should-be best friend. I wipe the last few tears off my cheeks.

  “Shh. My rules, remember? You can’t talk until the song is over.”

  And we just sit and listen. Mary’s seats are so wide I can pull my legs into cross-legged position. It’s not perfect and my chest still feels a bit caved out, but I also feel like I’ll survive it.

  ***

  “Okay, are you kidding me?” I ask as we stop. The pizza place is sandwiched between a laundromat and a pull-tab convenience store.

  “Don’t ya trust me?” he teases.

  “I… Not really, no.” But I am totally distracted.

  “Come on.” He opens his door.

  “Your car is taking up two parking spaces,” I point out.

  He shrugs. “Yeah. We were lucky to get two close together.”

  “You can be such a jerk.” And I can breathe, which is more than I thought I’d be able to do an hour ago.

  He chuckles. “It’s parking spaces, Ziah. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

  He shuts his car door and starts around the front of Mary for mine. I jump out before he gets to my side. I’m not sure why I didn’t just let him get my door. It feels like I forced him on a date or something—though, really it’s our brother and sister who have forced us on a date, or an outing, or whatever this is.

  I follow him inside, and the cashier leans his elbows on the counter. “S’up, Lil’ D.”

  Lil’ D? I’m trying to hold in my laughter, but my body’s shaking anyway. This is so perfect. The crappiness from earlier is fading away fast. I’m sure it’ll come crashing in again at some point but not right now.

  Dylan cringes. He turns toward me. “This is my brother’s friend Hank. And I don’t even let my brother get away with calling me that.” He tags Hank in the shoulder across the counter without looking.

  “All right. Dylan.” Hank rolls his eyes at me. “What can I get for ya?”

  “Do you trust me to order for us?” Dylan asks. “We could get my favorite.”

  Crap. I’m chewing on my lip, and he’s staring. He must think I’m crazy. “I’m curious to see what Lil’ D gets on his pizza.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m only lettin’ you get away with that because…”

  I wait for a moment and then finish for him. “’Cause I’m a mess?” I offer.

  Hank leans forward. “I’m guessing you both want a drink?”

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “That’ll be twenty.” Hanks pushes a few buttons on the register.

  “What?” Dylan chuckles. “How about you hook me up since you just gave her some ammo with that stupid-ass nickname my brother started.”

  Hank laughs. “The problem here, Dylan, is I run a small pizza place, and you live in one of the biggest houses in Portland. I’m totally exploiting you, and you’re lucky you can get a pizza for less than fifty bucks.” He turns and hands the order through the window to the kitchen. “And you have to move that ridiculous beast of a car you insist on driving. I can’t have you taking up two spaces.”

  “I’ll move my car when I get my pizza.” Dylan laughs. He grabs me a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and himself a Pepsi. He holds the soda out to me. “I guessed ‘cause it’s what your sister drinks.”

  “Thanks. This has been very informative, Lil’ D,” I tease, as I take my soda from him.

  He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Please, not you, too.”

  “O-kay.” I mimic his dramatic sigh. “But just remember it’s back there for blackmail.”

  “You gonna cut me any slack?” His crooked smile is one of the many things that melted me at the party, and no guy should be giving me happy tingles just after I slammed the door in James’s face.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” And we’re standing here, and I’m lighter every minute.

  “Perfect.” His voice is dry, but a corner of his mouth pulls up. Dylan holds open the door. “It’s not raining, we should be outside.”

  “Agreed.” I follow him out the door.

  ***

  Our legs are stretched out on Mary’s hood. Bits of sunshine paired with the black surface makes it feel almost like summer. The Willamette River is in front of us, and we have a view of a few of the bridges that stretch across the water.

  Dylan’s favorite pizza is pretty awesome—double pepperoni, ham, and olives.

  “So.” He takes another bite. “I’m assuming you’re a college girl. Where you headed?”


  “Undecided. I’m pre-med, and there are a lot of places I could go. I’ve applied like, everywhere.”

  “Cool. I’m, um…pre-law.”

  I choke on my bite of pizza. “Pre-law? So, really you’re a brainiac like me, but you’re disguised as a hot party guy?” My cheeks heat up the moment the words are out. I drop my pizza and put my hands on my cheeks, hoping to cool them down.

  “Wow, Hanes, was that a compliment?” He nudges my arm with his elbow.

  “Oh, come on.” I shake my head. “You’re not going to argue with me on that point, are you?” Maybe if I play it off as his conceit rather than how I feel, it won’t be a big deal.

  “Let’s just say I’m holding onto that one for blackmail.”

  Of course he is.

  “But seriously? It’s what my dad does, and I get it. It’s like the law is this strict guideline. But really, it’s so bendable, you know? If you’re smart about it. I like the idea of all the motions, and the back and forth that happens between firms working on the same case.” He takes another bite, so relaxed. “Plus, I’m kickass at arguing and getting my way.”

  I have to laugh at his honesty. And I’m sort of in shock because a part of me felt he’d be a guy who did nothing. I bet his dad has enough money for him to get away with it, too. But he’s not going to do nothing—he’s going to do something big.

  “I’m getting into medicine because of my dad. He decided to teach instead of practicing. I want to practice. Probably pediatrics, but I’m not sure yet. I have a way long time to think about it.”

  “So, we’re both after the big degrees,” he says.

  “Yeah.” We both are. “But on opposite sides of what they offer.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugs.

  It sort of sums up Dylan and me. Not that there is a Dylan and me. But it’s like we’re similar, and we’re not. I’m okay to cry in front of him, although I’m still embarrassed about it, and we’re both unhappy about this wedding. Then he’s the big mansion, hot party guy with the model friends, and I’m…well, the opposite of that. Before I have a chance to process how much time’s gone by, the city’s turning dark, and I’m not sure what to do.