Every Other Weekend

by Abigail Johnson

  “Care about her more. Thanks, Adam. It feels great now that you’ve broken it down for me.” She turned to Jeremy. “So you talk about me a lot, huh?”

  Jeremy’s neck went bright red, and Jolene made a sound beside me. She was covering her mouth with both hands.

  “Jo, please don’t be mad. I’m seriously messing this up.”

  She shook her head and when she lowered her hands, I saw that she was smiling. “Look,” she whispered. “He likes her.” She nodded at Jeremy’s flaming-red neck.

  I was too relieved that she wasn’t pissed at me to care about what was going on with my brother. “You’re not mad?”

  “Not at you. Should we see how red we can make him?”

  Jeremy was doing a bang-up job of that all by himself, and based on Erica’s smile, she was loving it.

  “Or...does that bother you?” Jolene started braiding her hair as she looked from Jeremy to Erica, then to me.

  “No.” I stilled her hands, making sure I didn’t glance at my brother or my ex-girlfriend, who were having their own whispered conversation in the front seat. “Jo, I can’t even see anyone else when I’m with you.”

  * * *

  I’d like to say my gym had transformed into something other than my gym for the dance, but apparently the decoration committee had really taxed themselves hanging streamers and a few balloons.

  Jolene had barely blinked since walking through the doors. I tried to see what she saw with such bright eyes. Students spit shined to uncomfortable perfection, some swaying under a basketball hoop, others crowded around tables. Squealing over dresses, high-fiving over dates or lack thereof.

  My small-town high school had only a few hundred students, and most of us had known each other since kindergarten. We were a pretty incestuous bunch—take my brother showing up with my ex-girlfriend, for instance. I was one of maybe a dozen who’d brought an outside date. And not just a date, Jolene Timber.

  My gym was a gussied-up gym full of gussied-up kids.

  Jolene, on the other hand...

  Her hair shone in soft brown waves that fell to her hips, and every time she turned, it flowed around her to dizzying effect. I could feel my pupils dilate, and Jolene took full advantage.

  “The hair,” I said, lifting a strand and letting it run through my fingers.

  She grinned. “You like it.” Not a question, but I nodded anyway.

  I would say it took two turns, three tops, before every guy I knew was coming up to meet her. After one even asked her to dance, I pulled her away to meet my actual friends.

  “Hey, man,” Gideon said, trying not to look at Jolene. He was lanky with thick brown hair that he was constantly shaking back from his tanned face. He’d been one of my best friends since we played T-ball together. I’d told him a little about Jolene, but I still felt nervous introducing them for the first time. Jolene couldn’t help but be impressive, and she could be nice when she wanted to be—which she apparently wanted that night—but after Erica, I had no idea how my two separate lives would hold up meeting each other.

  I introduced everyone, including Gideon’s date, a girl named Julie from my chemistry class, and then Rory, the pretty boy of our friends, with his sandy-blond hair, brown eyes, and easy grin. And while he might not have come with a date, several girls were watching him while we all talked, and they encircled him the second I pulled Jolene away. I introduced her to a few more people until I felt like she had enough names to remember and we headed for the dance floor.

  I wouldn’t call her a great dancer, but the way she moved—and that hair—it was mesmerizing.

  “We need to stop,” I told her as the fifth fast song ended.

  “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.” She twirled around in front of me, heedless of the people gazing at her, or maybe because of the people gazing at her.

  “I’m pretty sure even my brother is eyeing you at this point.” He wasn’t, but that might have been only because Erica was laughing at something he’d said. Or not. I couldn’t actually remember seeing him glance at another girl all night.

  Jolene made a face and tugged me away from the dancing. “I cannot believe how much fun I’m having. Yet another reason that private schools suck.”

  “Maybe you just need me.” I grinned as she slugged me, ridiculously happy that I was the cause of her happiness. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

  “It’s the hair.”

  It was so much more than the hair.

  Jolene scanned the room. “Are you going to point out your ex-girlfriends to me? I mean, besides Erica.”

  I played dumb. “Who?”

  “How quickly he forgets. The latest of your conquests, she of the shattered heart, the jilted one. You know, the girl currently making out with your brother.”

  I didn’t glance in Jeremy and Erica’s direction. Whether it was true or not, Jolene was testing me, and I honestly didn’t mind if they were kissing. Instead I said, “Where do I start?” I pretended to wink at a girl over Jolene’s shoulder. She laughed and almost choked on her drink.

  “Exactly how many of the girls here are in love with you?”

  “Including you?”

  “You wish.”

  Was I that obvious?

  A slow song came on that I knew she loved, so I got to put my arms around her. With the added height from her shoes, I could lean my head down and reach her ear. She shivered when I spoke. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t care if Erica was kissing my brother?” Which was 100 percent true. From the moment Jolene had opened her front door, it had been impossible to take my eyes off her.

  “Either way, you get mad points for saying it.” She didn’t lift her head when she spoke, so I couldn’t see her expression, but I could feel her happiness.

  “Yeah? Are these points redeemable?”

  “Sure. Earn enough and I’ll get you something pretty.”

  I could joke about winking at girls who weren’t actually there, and teasing with Jolene was just the way we were—usually it was the other way around—but ever since that almost kiss in the snow—longer than that, really—I’d been the one trying to ruffle her composure. At first it was just to see if I could, to see if I possessed over her even a fraction of the power she held over me. But it wasn’t a game to me. I wanted it not to be a game to her either.

  I don’t know if it was the lights or the music or the fact that I was getting drunk on her laughter, but I tightened my arms around her without a moment of hesitation. “I can think of something.”

  Her breath caught, and she pulled back to look at me. All her bravado fell away as I held her. Not in a joking or a teasing embrace. Not catching her when she tripped or while we posed for a photo. We were in a gym that still smelled like sweat under swirling clouds of cologne and perfume, surrounded by hundreds of people and the seizure-inducing flash from the world’s fastest photographer in the corner.

  All I could think was, how long would she let me hold her?

  But then a smile crept onto her face, and I felt the shift even before her words confirmed that the game was back on. And it was over. Whatever it was. Whatever it might have been.

  “Well, okay. I’m not sure it will fit, but if you like the dress that much, Adam, it’s yours.” I didn’t resist when she stepped out of my arms mid-song. Her eyes were too wide, and her fingers were twisting in her hair like she wanted desperately to braid it. Seeing her unnerved made it easier for me to let go. For now.

  “You want to get in line for photos?”

  “Yes!” she said.

  When it was our turn, we took our place in front of the winter-wonderland backdrop, and the photographer started maneuvering us into one of the standard awkward poses, but Jolene was having none of that. Her eyes sparked back to life as she shrugged off whatever had dimmed them when I’d pulled her close.

&nb
sp; “Adam,” she said, ignoring the continued orders from the photographer. “We’re not posing like mannequins. What would your mom think?”

  Probably not much. I looked around at the rustic wood bench, then back at Jolene. “I don’t know that we have tons of options.”

  “Or time,” the photographer deadpanned.

  “C’mere.” I pulled Jolene in front of me and slid my arms around her—that was going to get addicting quick. I felt very smooth...until I tripped over the fake snow blanket on the floor. But that was worth it, because Jolene laughed, I smiled, and the flash from the camera captured it all.

  Jolene

  I almost had an Audrey Hepburn moment after Adam dropped me off. I could have danced all night. Instead, I spun around my room with my arms outstretched, humming under my breath. I wiggled out of my dress and into my oversize Breakfast Club T-shirt before indulging in one last spin and falling backward on my bed.

  But then the pearls from my mother’s necklace rolled against my collarbone, and I heard a door slam downstairs. Mom and Tom were fighting, and that wasn’t something I’d heard them do before. Tom always played nice with her, talking her down and cajoling her into doing things his way. Mom was usually too eager for the attention she thought would make her happy to truly let her facade drop when she was with him.

  I’d told Tom the truth about never getting my dad’s money, and it seemed that Mom’s assurances to the contrary were growing thin, based on their raised voices.

  My hand reached up to trace the pearls. None of her loving, motherly act was real. I knew that. It was costumes and sets. I sat up and started braiding my hair. Adam might not have noticed all the eyes on him during the dance—even some of his friends’ dates—but I had. I wasn’t surprised. Adam was always so easy with everyone. He expected people to like him unless he chose to give them a reason not to. When I wasn’t dancing around my room and remembering the way his arms had tightened around me, I resented him for that.

  My fingers faltered. He’d liked my hair down. He’d told me in a million silent and not-so-silent ways all night. I hurried to finish the braid, then coiled the whole thing in a knot on my head. From the bed, I could see my reflection in the mirror on my wall. That was how Adam usually saw me.

  My phone buzzed. I knew it was him before I looked at the screen.

  Adam:

  I have a problem.

  Jolene:

  You have a lot of problems.

  Adam:

  This one is directly related to you.

  Jolene:

  They usually are.

  Adam:

  I think tonight set an unfair precedent for the rest of my life.

  Jolene:

  Explain.

  Adam:

  What am I supposed to do with myself for the next seven days?

  Jolene:

  It’s after midnight, so technically

  six days now.

  Adam:

  That’s a long time to wait for something pretty.

  I hesitated before texting back. Was that how it was going to be from then on? Was he going to keep digging and digging until he got so far under my skin that the only way to get him out was to rip it off?

  Adam:

  Jolene?

  Jolene:

  I’m not used to you like this.

  Adam:

  You’ll get there.

  Jolene:

  I’m not sure I like it.

  I bit my lip waiting for his response. Guys were so sensitive. If I shut down his flirting, I could end up shutting down a lot more than that.

  Adam:

  Fine. I’ll stop, but as long as you

  keep sending me texts like this, it’s game on.

  He pasted in a text I’d sent him the previous weekend: I’m here. Why don’t you back that thing up and come over?

  Jolene:

  I was quoting a song.

  Adam:

  Is that the rule?

  Jolene:

  I was being funny. It’s different.

  Adam:

  So I’ll be funny.

  Jolene:

  You weren’t being funny at the dance.

  Adam:

  Nothing about holding you felt funny.

  Jolene:

  That’s what I’m talking about.

  Adam:

  Fine. Next time I have you in my arms, I tickle you instead.

  I started to type Instead? but that would have invited all sorts of other responses. I deleted it.

  Jolene:

  Dream on.

  Adam:

  We’ll see. Night, Jolene.

  Jolene:

  Night.

  A door slammed, and a moment later a car peeled out of the driveway.

  I unclasped my mother’s pearl necklace and set it on my dresser.

  ADAM

  Jeremy had been smiling all weekend since the dance, and I’d avoided confronting him over springing his date on me, because my night with Jolene had still been amazing. But when he started whistling as we drove to school on Monday, I’d had enough.

  My hand lashed out and I turned the radio on. Loud.

  Beside me, Jeremy laughed and flicked it off. “All right. Say it.”

  I kept my mouth shut as I let my gaze travel over the cars we passed.

  “I can’t believe what a pissy little brat you are sometimes.” Jeremy gritted his teeth. “Fine, I should have told you about Erica, okay?”

  “Hell yes, you should have told me about Erica.”

  My brother’s jaw relaxed since I’d decided to yell at him instead of stay silent. “Hey, I told you you’d regret letting Erica go. You can’t be mad that she’s into me now, especially since you told me to ask her out.”

  “I don’t regret breaking up with Erica.” I shook my head at how dense he was. “And I don’t care that you’re going out with her, if that’s what she wants.”

  “Oh, it’s definitely what she wants.” Jeremy grinned.

  I locked my jaw. “I swear, if you think about whistling again...”

  Jeremy started laughing. “Well, then what? You got the girl you want and I got the girl you were too stupid to want.” The back of his hand slapped my chest. “Cheer up.”

  I glanced down at where he’d slapped me before turning to face him. “You’re a tool,” I told him in a calm voice.

  “Whatever, man.”

  “No, not whatever.” I twisted and the seat belt pulled against me. “I don’t care that you’re with Erica. In fact, great. Good for you.” I felt a weird twinge that she could be into him after being into me, but my feelings for Erica had been nothing like my feelings for Jolene, so that was my pride bugging me more than anything else. “I care that you set out to screw me over, and you didn’t care that you were hurting Jolene and Erica in the process.”

  Jeremy pulled his mouth to the side and quickly frowned. “So now you care about hurting Erica? I was the one who was with her every day at rehearsal. You don’t even know the number you pulled on her.”

  My neck heated. “Yeah, I was a jerk, but I didn’t mean to hurt her. You didn’t tell me who your date was, and I’m betting Erica had no idea she was about to be trapped in a car with me and the girl she thought I cheated on her with.”

  “Oh, she knew.” When I stayed silent, Jeremy actually looked offended. “You really thought I’d do that? To a girl I liked?”

  Yeah, actually, I had. My brother’s emotional range was pretty stunted, in my experience. “Erica knew?”

  “Fair’s fair. You didn’t exactly prepare her before you let half the school catch you making out with Jolene in the parking lot.”

  “We weren’t—” I ground my teeth. What people thought they’d seen me doing with Jolen
e wasn’t the point anymore. “Erica isn’t vindictive. She wouldn’t have done that.”

  “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”

  I frowned at that, and Jeremy shook his head.

  “You were at her house all the time. What’d you guys do if you weren’t talk—” His jaw twisted and he closed his mouth with an audible click. I watched his fingers clench around the steering wheel, and I let him squirm for a good minute, imagining all the many non-talking things we might have done. When his face started to turn purple, I figured he’d had enough.

  “I only kissed her a few times, and never for long because her dad kept coming to check on us.” That and my thoughts had kept straying to Jolene, and I hadn’t wanted to use Erica like that, but I wasn’t about to confess that to Jeremy.

  Jeremy shot me a sideways glance as though he was trying to ascertain if I was lying, before his head jerked in a quick nod. He still seemed a little skeptical, and if our situations were reversed and he’d gone out with Jolene before me—the thought alone made me want rip his throat out—I’d have had a hard time believing he’d been able to resist her.

  “We worked on our project and we...”

  “What? You what?” Jeremy kept veering into the lane next to us as he shot looks at me.

  “We talked about Greg,” I finally said.

  The tension didn’t leave Jeremy’s body, but it shifted so that I was no longer concerned he’d run us off the road.

  I rolled my shoulder to try to alleviate some of the discomfort I suddenly felt weighing on me. “She remembered some things about him from when we were kids, him saving cats and stuff.” Shifting again, I remembered that each one of our kisses had been prompted by me talking about Greg, reaching that breaking point of grief where I wanted to feel anything else, even if that meant kissing a girl who wasn’t the one I really wanted. More than that, I realized that talking to Erica about Greg had been entirely different than talking to Jolene.

  With Erica, I talked about Greg, but not about what it’d been like to lose him, not about what I felt. And whenever I’d reached that point where it hurt too much to go on, I’d stopped. With Jolene, I hadn’t wanted to hold back. I’d wanted her to see and feel and know not just who my brother was, but who I’d become since he died. I felt the pain of losing Greg, but with her I hadn’t wanted to hide it.