“Mom, I’m nervous.”
“I know, honey. But don’t be. Just try to have fun, okay? Try to live in the moment.”
“Mom, are you a hippie?”
She smiles. No one else in the family jokes around with my mom like this, I don’t know why. She always gets the joke. I guess everybody’s just too wrapped up in their own drama to notice. But I know it means a lot to her. To know I see her. To know I love her. I swear to God without her I’d be the first female serial killer in history.
“Listen, this boy is lucky to be spending time with you. Think of it like that.”
“Tsh. Yeah, right.”
“He is! Believe you me.”
The doorbell rings now and my heart jumps out of my chest onto the table. Jesus. This is terrible. This is going to be the worst night ever. I better not even talk. I’ll just smile and nod. And laugh. But not too much. And not too loud. Just a nice laugh. Supportive. Jesus. What is wrong with me? I’m falling apart.
This is gonna be a total disaster.
My mom opens the door and there is Jared. He’s wearing a navy blue North Face parka, jeans, and hiking boots. Pure Jared.
Even though I can’t see it I can tell you right now, that underneath that parka somewhere he’s wearing a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. The one where the angel is falling from the sky.
He smiles up at me and it kinda sorta maybe knocks the wind out of me. Oh my God. This is gonna be excruciating. Maybe I should just say I’m sick and crawl in my bed. I could just pretend I came down with something and run away.
“Hello, ma’am. I’ve come for that aforementioned date with your daughter.”
“Yes, come on in. There’s no reason to stand out in the cold.”
Jared comes in and I can see my sisters peeking in from down the hall. I catch Lizzie’s eye and she mouths, “You are SO dead.”
Jared is standing there waiting for me, next to my mom.
This is my last chance to bail. I really could just say I’m not feeling well.
“Honey, are you ready?”
My mom is trying to make everything normal. Poor mom. She has no idea she’s raised a neurotic Muppet who’s falling apart.
“Anika? You ready?”
That’s Jared. Gulp. I realize I’ve never been on an actual date before.
“This is my first date!” I blurt.
Wow. What a nerd. I bet he just walks off now.
“That’s awesome! I must be the luckiest guy in the universe then.”
He smiles. My mom smiles. Everyone’s just smiling their faces off.
Okay, here goes nothing.
I step forward and before I know it Jared and I are out the door. Out out out into the brisk night air where you can see your breath and your eyeballs are freezing and you can get in a dark green Jeep and go to the Halloween jamboree thingy where everyone in town is gonna see you’re on a date with THE Jared Kline.
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forty
All the little kids at the Halloween Spookfest are dressed up like ghouls and goblins, warlocks and witches. It’s like a miniature underworld. There are, also, a lot of mini Luke Skywalkers, Han Solos, and Darth Vaders. Even some mini Stormtroopers. And a mini Chewbacca. That’s the one everyone’s going gaga over. The kid’s like four. And he’s got that Wookiee call down cold.
There’s a haunted house, a pumpkin patch, a fortune-teller, and bobbing for apples.
So far we’ve had hot cider and doughnuts and Jared has tried (and failed) to win me a black and orange cat doll in the Ping-Pong toss game. He is strolling around the festival like he’s the mayor of Halloween.
Head held high, it’s like he’s nine feet tall or something.
“Can I ask you a question?” I can’t help myself.
“Shoot.”
“Why are you so happy all the time?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful night, the moon is out, that kid’s dressed like Chewbacca, and I’m with the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“Um. I think you mean you’re with the most beautiful girl in this pumpkin patch.”
“Well, this pumpkin patch is the world right now. Feels like it anyway.”
I would gag if this were uttered by any other being on the planet.
We walk around a group of mini-princesses in pink and purple, waving their magic wands.
“For a scam artist, you’re really convincing. I’d say you’re excellent.”
“Thank you but I’m not a scam artist. Anika, seriously, I’m not. People just say that because they’re jealous or stupid or they’re just looking for something to talk about.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I think of that Stacy Nolan debacle. That was a complete fantasy. And everyone gobbled it up like candy corn.
Two stands down, Jenny Schnittgrund is sipping an apple cider with Charlie Russell.
We walk by and they both proceed to spill cider all over the place, faces agog. And they’re off! Let the rumor mill churn!
Now Jared stops abruptly and turns to me.
“There’s just something about you, Anika. You’re . . . mysterious or something.”
“Mysterious. Like the part where I blurted out I’ve never been on a date before?”
“Yeah, that part.” He smirks. “No, but seriously. I don’t know, I just kind of, like, think about you. Like a lot.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Man, you really aren’t vain, I’ll give you that.”
The pumpkin patch is getting a little crazy with miniature goblins so we head to the haunted house, presumably so Jared can try to ravish me in the dark. You have to buy the tickets first so I wait in line while Jared goes to the ticket booth.
Mostly I’m just standing there wondering if this is some joke like in that movie where the girl gets blood spilled all over her at prom. I mean. Jared Kline. The Jared Kline, acting like this. It’s like a parallel universe I’ve stepped into.
Right now there’s two miniature Ewoks trying to convince the haunted house guy he should let them in. He keeps telling them they’re too little and they keep giving him examples of things they’ve been able to do, even though they’re too little. Like see Superman. And drive a go-cart. Even the haunted house guy is getting a kick out of it. We smile at each other. Yeah, they’re cute, you can’t deny it.
The Ewoks continue to make their case. At that moment all of this sweetness and light and goodwill to all mankind is ruined by the scariest creature of all at the Halloween Spookfest:
Becky Vilhauer.
I shoulda known.
She’s standing there like she’s been there for hours and Shelli’s behind her, again, looking like a lost kitten. They’re dressed up, too. Like bitches. I mean, witches.
“You. Are. So. Busted.”
“Um. Hi.”
“Thought you could come promenade around with your super-nerd, huh?”
“What?”
“I can’t believe how stupid you are. Did you really think you could just walk around with that total nerd-face and we wouldn’t find out? I mean, it’s like, you’re like brain-dead or something—”
“Evening ladies.”
Jared is back. He’s got the tickets.
If you could peel the expression off someone’s face like the label on a jar, I would want these two expressions to go on my wall for the rest of my life.
Becky looks like aliens just landed. Shelli looks like Jesus just levitated.
I mean, never in the history of time have two girls been sucker punched thusly.
God, I wish my eye were a camera.
Becky tries to pull it together.
“I-I just. Hey, Jared.”
“Hey,” Shelli squeaks.
But now, Becky won’t be satisfied. She must have her day. She must win.
“What
are you doing here with him? I thought you had a boyfriend?”
And there it is. My night of a thousand wonders comes to an end. No more sweet words in the pumpkin patch. He’ll probably just leave me here. Becky would just love that. She’ll make me beg for a ride home. Seriously. Oh well. I guess I’ll just call my mom.
Except that Jared says this:
“She does have a boyfriend.”
And then he picks me up like he’s carrying me over the threshold or something and looks Becky straight in the eye.
“Me.”
And with that, he swoops me off into the night of a thousand goblins and lets the tickets fall to the ground because who cares about that Halloween house ride when you’ve got Jared Kline carrying you and you might as well be on a rocket ship.
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forty-one
We’re in Jared’s Jeep now, speeding home. He turns to me.
“Sorry we didn’t get to go on that ride or whatever. But I think we both know what was the scariest thing at the Halloween Spookfest.”
“Hm?”
“Beeeeecky Viiilhaaaauuuueeer.” He makes his hands into claws and pretends to claw me.
I really never would’ve thought Jared Kline would be this witty. I thought he was just like maybe of average intelligence, kind of a burnout at best. I mean, his kid brother, Brad, once raised his hand in biology and asked if trees were alive. That’s a true story, by the way.
“So, what are we doing now?”
“Well, since I’m such a total scam artist, I’m taking you home now so your mom doesn’t freak.”
“Touché.”
“Oh, so you speak French?”
“Je ne parle pas français. That means I don’t speak French.”
“Oo la la. Who taught you that?”
“My brother. Henry. Sometimes we nerd out together. He loves everything French.”
“I see . . . French toast, French dressing, French fries . . .”
“. . . French’s mustard.”
Jared smiles at me and now we’re just total goofballs. But I’m terrified when we get to my house. I’m dying when we get to my house. My heart is leaping out of my sweater when we get to my house. What will he do? Will he kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me? Yes, I want him to kiss me. No, I don’t want him to kiss me. What if I’m not a very good kisser? Why should I be? The only person I’ve ever kissed before is my not-not-not boyfriend Logan.
We pull up to the driveway and he turns off the engine. I guess he thinks this is make-out city.
“Here, I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“C’mon, you never know what kind of skeletons might be waiting in the bushes. You saw those kids. They’re out for blood.”
I hop out of the Jeep and head for the door. Most of the lights are off in the front of the house, so I guess no one can see us. Maybe. You never know.
“So, um, Anika. You made my night kinda.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you did. I like being with you, standing next to you.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to—”
“That thing I said about you being my girlfriend? Anika, I want you to be.”
“But this is crazy. You don’t even know me! Don’t you have like a million—”
“No. I don’t.” He sighs. “Look I don’t know what you’ve heard about me or where you heard it or whatever but I’m not bad. I’m just a guy. You know? All that stuff you hear is just . . . noise.”
“Okay.”
“So, you’re my girlfriend now?”
“I guess?”
Every time I talk it sounds like I’m speaking from under a rock. I just can’t believe any of it and I feel like if I talk too loud I’ll break it. I’ll wake up and realize it was all just a dream.
I touch the gold necklace hanging from my neck.
“I’m not gonna kiss you, Anika.”
“What? Why not?” That sounded bad. “I mean—”
“Because I know there’s a part of you that still thinks I’m a scam artist. And I wanna prove to you I’m not. I’m just a guy. Who likes you.”
A light goes on in the living room up above us.
“I guess that’s my mom.”
“Good night, Anika.” He squeezes me on the shoulder, reassuringly.
Okay, no one’s ever squeezed me on the shoulder reassuringly before.
And then he goes, back to his Jeep, back into whatever cloud in the sky he came from. He turns before getting in.
“Sweet dreams.”
And then he’s off, and there I am standing on the front porch, wondering what just happened. And he’s right. I will have sweet dreams because this was all a sweet dream and I feel like I’m the girl where sweet dreams never come true and I wonder how long this sweet dream can possibly last.
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forty-two
Pedaling fast fast fast, the back wheel, rusty, goes squeak squeak squeak. This is the moment, this is the moment and now the trees and the leaves and the sidewalk give way and now there’s blue and red circles and sirens and red and white trucks and the trees and the leaves and the sidewalk whisper they tried to stop me they tried to stop me they did.
Pedaling fast fast fast, don’t see it. Try not to see it, don’t see it but there is no way not to see it, there is no way to go back now.
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is the moment. You thought you could change it, remember how you thought you could change it and you want to laugh out loud you thought that but there is no laughing, there is no laughing now.
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forty-three
I know what to do now about Tiffany. I’ve been racking my brain since the night she got fired and now I know the only way to make it better. Or even get close to making it better. I have to give her the money. I bet you’re wondering how much it is. How much did little miss front clerk and her sidekick Shelli steal from the Bunza-a-meal-in-a-Bunza?
Answer:
(Drumroll, please . . .)
Exactly one thousand two hundred thirty-six dollars and fifty cents. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. That looks like this: $1,236.50.
And Tiffany is gonna get all of it.
Don’t try to talk me out of it, I’ve already decided. I’m halfway over to her house and my nose has already frozen off my face, thank you very much. This is one of those crappy almost-winter days where the sky is the color of oatmeal and the ground is frozen white, not even any snow to give it character. Just cold and suicide-inducing.
My dad, the vampire, likes to say, “Dees veather. Eet punishes you.” And he’s right. You do get the feeling you’re getting punished for something. But what? Maybe punished for living in such a crappy place and not doing anything about it, that’s what.
Let’s talk depressing. This stucco apartment building might as well have a sign out front reading “WE KIND OF BLEW IT.” I mean, anybody who isn’t in college or going through a horrible divorce has got to be feeling pretty lame calling this place home. It doesn’t help that there’s a Burger King right across the street. I mean the whole place smells like cheeseburgers.
When I get to the door I decide this is a stupid idea anyway and I’m leaving. What if she’s not home and her mean mom answers. I can’t give her the money. She’ll probably just spend it on stuff to make her meaner. Whatever that is. I guess I’d be grumpy, too, if I had to live in this shit-basket.
The door opens before I even knock and it’s Tiffany. She stands there looking at me, and it’s like she’s shrinking somehow right before m
y eyes.
“Hey.”
I know. I have a way with words.
“Hey.” Still shrinking.
“Listen, um . . . Hey, can I come in? It’s kinda cold . . .”
“Um, really?”
Oh. I get it. Tiffany doesn’t want me to see this place. That I understand. I didn’t really want Jared to see my place either. Not after seeing that library with nautical oil paintings.
“Yeah, I mean. It’s kinda like freezing out here.”
“Okay.”
I step in and it’s not all that bad, actually. I mean, it’s not like you could eat off the floor, like our house. The corners are grimy. But there’s an effort at sweeping and dusting that ends up somewhere between yeah-that’s-enough and who-cares-anyway.
So far, no sign of mom. Thank God.
“So, I felt kinda bad that, um, you got busted, so—”
“I know. It was stupid. I dunno what—”
“No, you don’t have to say you’re sorry.”
“No, I am—”
Oh my God, am I gonna tell her? She could so bust me if I do. And Shelli. Mr. Baum would press charges, too. $1,236.50 worth of charges. Probably more for his wounded pride. And the fact he’s short. And fat. And that I’ve been poisoning him.
“Look, Tiffany, we stole, too.”
“What?”
Oh Lord. Tiffany looks like I just told her aliens landed in Topeka. This is gonna suck. Please God, don’t let her tell on me.
“Yeah, we did. I had a whole system—”
“—But why?”
“’Cause I’m an idiot.”
“But you’re rich.”
“I guess, not rich enough?”
She and I just stand there looking at each other. Maybe it dawns on both of us that maybe you can never be rich enough. Maybe that’s the problem.
“Look, we were idiots.”
“Shelli, too?”
“Yeah.”
“But her mom’s a Christian.”
“Exactly.”
Tiffany smiles.
“Look, there’s just no reason why. I’m kind of a shitty person, I guess that’s why.”
Anatomy of a Misfit Page 14
