Notes on a Near-Life Experience

by Olivia Birdsall

  “Checkstand three, right?”

  “For now, but I may be promoted to produce soon, so look for me by the radishes if you don't see me there. Well, ladies, I'll leave you to your work,” he says as he walks out of the kitchen.

  “Typical.” I call after him, “You're not even going to offer to help?”

  “I brought home the cheese,” he yells back.

  Haley fills a pot with water and puts it on the stove to boil while I mix herbs, ricotta, and mozzarella cheese in a bowl.

  “This feels weird. I know it's normal and I've just been spoiled, having my mom cook all the time. But I still don't like this, you know?” I can say things to Haley that sound selfish and whiny without worrying that she'll think I'm selfish and whiny.

  “Moms who cook are an endangered species these days,” she says absently.

  Keatie walks into the kitchen. “My dad cooks with Paloma,” she tells us.

  This is news to me. “I can't remember the last time he cooked with Mom. Does your dad ever help your mom cook?” I ask Haley.

  “When Mom is in charge of dinner, Dad drives with her to Fiesta Time.”

  “Close enough.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I like cracking eggs,” Keatie announces. “Mom showed me how. Can I crack some eggs for dinner?”

  “Sure.” Haley looks at me and shrugs as if to say “Why not?” “Crack some into that mix of Mia's. It couldn't hurt.”

  “Cool,” says Keatie. “How many can I do?”

  “One,” I say at the same time Haley says, “Three, maybe?”

  “You can do two, and that's it,” I tell her.

  “All riiiiight!” Keatie gets two eggs out of the refrigerator and enthusiastically cracks them into the bowl.

  While we are bobbing for eggshell, the doorbell rings three times in a row. This is Julian's way of signaling that he's coming in and that no one has to bother to answer the door. My heart starts to beat really fast and my fingers can no longer function at the level required to retrieve eggshell particles.

  “Hello, domestic goddesses,” Julian says as he walks into the kitchen. “What culinary delight are you preparing this evening?”

  “Pasta with eggs in it,” Keatie tells him.

  “Sounds… interesting.” Julian comes up beside me and whispers, “I need to consult with you about the menu.”

  “What?”

  “Would you please follow me to the dining area?”

  Haley rolls her eyes and shoves the two of us out of the kitchen.

  Julian leads me to the hallway. “I'm here to see Al, but I wanted to say hi to you. So, um, hi.”

  “Hi.”

  At that moment, Allen emerges from the hallway. “Hi,” he says. “Well, now we've all said it. Come on, Julio, we've got work to do.”

  Julian looks embarrassed and I feel stupid. I walk back into the kitchen, where Haley is finishing up with the shells. She looks at me and laughs. “What happened? You look like you got caught passing notes in class.”

  “It was nothing… really.”

  “You've got a lot of nothing going on lately, huh?” Haley sounds annoyed. She shoves the pan into the oven. “Well, if there's nothing to talk about, let's go catch up on some quality game-show time while the food's cooking.”

  When the shells are done, we wait for Mom to get home and eat with us, but she calls and says we should eat without her. Keatie leaves a note for her on the table before she goes to bed.

  Mommy,

  We saved you some dinner. I cracked the eggs. Then I did my homework and beat Allen at ProSoccer twice.

  Love,

  Your daughter Keatie

  Allen adds to the note.

  I really beat Keatie. She is lying. And I bought the cheese. Your son, Allen

  Keatie gets mad, writes:

  Mom,

  I really won. Allen should get in trouble for teasing.

  She draws an eye, a heart, and the letter U and signs her name. Before Haley leaves, she adds to the note:

  Allen really should get in trouble for teasing.

  Love,

  Haley

  Mom still isn't home by the time I go to bed. I add to the note,

  Mom,

  I love you. I miss your cooking. It would be nice to see you once in a while.

  Mia

  AFTER SCHOOL ALLEN IS MISSING; HE DOESN'T HAVE SOCCER practice, and his car isn't in the parking lot. I run into Julian while I'm looking for Haley.

  “Have you seen my brother? Or Haley?”

  “No and no. What's going on?”

  “I need a ride home, and I can't find anyone.”

  “You found me.”

  Since Julian asked me to prom, things have been a little awkward between us. Especially when we're alone together. I think Julian may be worried about what Allen thinks of his asking me to prom. I don't want Julian to think that I think I'm his girlfriend or something just because he asked me. I can't just ask him for a ride home, like I would've before; he might think I expect him to drive me all over just because he asked me.

  “Hello?” Julian says, knocking gently on my head.

  I've been standing there thinking, staring into space without realizing it.

  “Yeah, um, I'm looking for a ride home.”

  “Is my car not good enough for you? What's the deal?”

  “I didn't realize you had offered me a ride.”

  “Are you crazy? Since when do I need to issue a formal invitation to give you a ride home? Come on.”

  Great. Now I've managed to make a huge deal out of nothing, out of a ride home.

  Julian bows in front of me. “Mimoo. Meezer-Mia, my lady. I want to give you a ride. Home, I mean.” He grabs my hand, kisses it, and holds it for a moment while we walk to the car. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it's going to launch out of my chest. He opens the door for me, but he always does that.

  “I'm a total dork,” I tell him as he starts the car. Why do I say things like that? Why don't I just put up a billboard that says, JULIAN, MIA'S AN IDIOT, THERE'S A REASON YOU DIDN'T LIKE HER BEFORE, AND IT HASN'T REALLY CHANGED.

  “I know you're a dork.” He raises his eyebrows. “And I like it.”

  “You would, you pervert.”

  “You haven't seen perverted yet, baby.” He puts his hand on my knee and makes a half suggestive, half comical face.

  I love being with him; I love the way things are still the same, but different, too. I love the possibilities in what he says now that were never there before. It's hard to rein myself in, though, and not start talking to him about how I just know we're going to fall madly in love and get married and have babies and grow old together. I am ready to be absolutely crazy obsessed in love with Julian. I mean, I am already, right? I wish I knew what Julian thought. How much does he really like me? I could fixate on this line of thought for hours, but it never gets me anywhere.

  When we get to my house, there are no cars in the driveway.

  “Look. I'm a total latchkey kid now.” I give him a pathetic look, thrusting my lower lip out. My mom used to work half days at the office. She was almost always home when we got home from school. She seems to have started working full-time without ever telling us.

  “Welcome to the club, you ex–spoiled brat.”

  “Sorry.” I forget that Julian's been going home to an empty house for years. Smart, Mia, real smart.

  “I'm joking,” he tells me.

  “Right. Does Keatie's team have practice tonight?”

  “Yeah, at six. I hope Al shows. He missed a practice last week.”

  “Really? That's not like him. Playing soccer and telling people what to do are two of his favorite things.”

  “He's developed some new hobbies lately.”

  I remember the phone calls from school, the way his car is never in the parking lot, the mysterious empty bottles. “Like what?”

  “I don't know.” Julian shrugs; he sounds awkward, unsure. “Maybe I shou
ld stay and wait with you. So I can remind Al about practice when he gets back.”

  I look at him like he's nuts. “Sure. Come on in.” I'm actually relieved that Julian doesn't say anything about Allen. It's probably better that I don't know what's going on.

  Julian has a thing for science. He likes watching the Discovery Channel. During a show about African ecosystems, he kisses me for the first time. And then the second, and then the third, and then I lose count.

  While Julian is kissing me, I think about how I love his hair and the way it feels to run my fingers through it. I think about his shoulders, how much wider they are than mine, the way the muscles in them tighten when I kiss his neck. After I sort of get used to the idea of his kissing me, of Julian Payn-ter's actually liking me enough to kiss me, I think about the other girls I know he's kissed—there are three. Two of them I liked okay; one of them I don't know, a random girl he met at the beach two summers ago. I remember how when I kissed Miguel in Mexico, I was disappointed that it felt the same as kissing anybody else, not different because he was from another country. I think about my parents: my dad and Paloma, my mom in the bed she sleeps in alone. And then I think about Julian some more, how much I like looking at his legs when he wears those dumb long soccer socks, how I'd never quite been able to imagine kissing him, but how I've always known that it would feel like flying and coming home at the same time.

  Julian leaves at five-thirty and Al still hasn't come home. When I say goodbye to Julian at the door, his face looks flushed, like he's just run a few miles, and I wonder if mine looks that way, too. After he's gone I look at myself in the mirror, expecting to find myself glowing or transformed somehow, but I look the way I always do, except most of my makeup has been kissed off. I think again about my parents, how they used to kiss in front of us, how we always thought it was so disgusting.

  I decide to ask Julian to drive me home more often. Maybe I'll put off getting my driver's license until he goes away to college.

  I ARRIVE HOME FROM A LATE DANCE PRACTICE AND AM surprised to find my mom and Julian's mom sitting outside drinking Diet Cokes and talking. When they see me, they stop.

  “Hey. What's going on?” I ask. “Is everything okay?”

  They look at each other and smile like there's some kind of secret between them.

  “Everything's fine, Mia. I decided that I was working too much, so I came home early, and Hope and I were just chatting.”

  “Oh. Hi, Hope.” So Mom's noticed; she's returning to her home planet. Maybe she's going to start acting like my mom again.

  “Hello.”

  She and my mom look at each other again and smile.

  “What?” I demand. “Why are you guys acting so weird?”

  My mom and Hope have been hanging out more since my dad moved out. They went to a cooking class together once, and last week Mom invited Hope to the opening night of some opera at the Orange County Performing Arts Center.

  “We were just talking, Mia. You know, girl talk,” my mom says.

  “Yeah, just some old ladies having a little girl talk,” Hope adds.

  Allen pulls into the driveway; Keatie waves at us frantically from the passenger seat and hops out of the car almost before it has stopped moving.

  “Were you talking about me?” I ask.

  They both laugh.

  “No. Not at all,” says Hope.

  I look at them suspiciously, trying to figure out what's going on.

  “M-o-o-o-o-o-m!” Keatie shrieks as she runs up the porch steps. She throws her arms around my mother as if she hasn't seen her in years.

  “Someone has been playing soccer and sweating up a storm,” Mom says as she hugs Keatie.

  “We scrimmaged and I scored three times,” Keatie reports. She notices Julian's mother. “Hey, Hope. Guess what? I've seen Mia kissing Julian with her eyes closed.”

  “What?” I yelp.

  Allen hears this as he walks up the steps, and groans. “That is something I do not need to hear.”

  “I need to have a serious talk with you,” Mom says to Allen, as if she hasn't even registered Keatie's outburst.

  Hope stands up. “That's my cue to leave.”

  “I'm starving,” Keatie announces, and goes inside.

  “Me too,” I say, following Keatie into the house.

  As I walk in, I hear my mom saying something to Allen about calls from the school and unexcused absences.

  “You know you have to graduate from high school in order to go to college,” she tells him as I shut the door to my room.

  Relieved that my mother seems to have resumed the job of worrying about what's going on in our family, I fall asleep until dinner. Maybe things can go back to normal now. Maybe she'll superglue the pieces of our family back together, so that even if we were in a head-on collision, no one would fall out of place.

  “DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE BAGEL PLACE FOR LUNCH today?” Julian asks on the way to school. He and Allen need to discuss strategy for Keatie's game on Saturday—the biggest one of the season, according to them—so they're carpooling to maximize their planning time. They're in the front seats of Allen's bus; I'm in the back.

  “Sure,” Allen and I say at the same time.

  “Oops. Sorry,” I say, “I thought you were talking to me.”

  “I was…. I mean, I was talking to both of you.”

  “Actually, I don't have time to go; I need to do some homework during lunch. So you guys should go without me,” Allen says.

  Things have gotten a bit uncomfortable among the three of us. I think it's the most awkward for Allen, though. The other day, Allen called Julian after he got off work, wanting to hang out, but I was already at Julian's. Sometimes when Julian comes over to see Allen, he'll call me beforehand to let me know. I am never sure what I'm supposed to do when he does that—put on more makeup, leave the house … it gets weird.

  Allen gives me the keys when I get out of the car. “You can drive Julian to lunch, you know, to practice for your driving test, but if you do anything to my car, you're dead.”

  “Thanks. I promise I'll be careful.”

  “Al, that's cool of you,” Julian tells him. “Maybe not so smart, though. Have you seen Meezer drive?”

  On the way to lunch, I almost rear-end three cars.

  “It's back to empty parking lots for you,” Julian says.

  “I was just nervous because I haven't practiced much in Al's car. I'm not really that bad.”

  Julian looks skeptical.

  We walk into the bagel store and get in line. Kiki Nordgren is a few people ahead of us.

  “Hey, Julian.” She makes the “hey” sound like it has two syllables. She ignores me.

  Julian nods at her. “Hi, Kiwi,” he says loudly. He whispers in my ear, “She hates that, but she'll act like she didn't notice.”

  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why he is my favorite boy on the planet.

  Kiki smiles at him and turns back to her friends.

  When we get to the cash register, Julian pays for my bagel sandwich, like we're on a date. He tells me about his mom and her boyfriend while we eat.

  “He's lame. I mean, he doesn't do anything. He manages the freaking appliance department at Sears; that's it. My mom worked her ass off to go to college after my dad left, so that she could get an education, you know, a good job, and that guy just hangs out at Sears all day.”

  “That sucks. But she's not stupid. She must see something in him.”

  “I think she's just lonely…. Anyway, he's at our house all the time. He spent the night last Friday. She doesn't think I know, but I heard him leave in the morning.”

  “Gross. Maybe we can set him up with Paloma, kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I wish,” he says. “Speaking of setting people up, we need to find Allen a date for prom. He still hasn't asked anyone; he says it's a waste of money and he doesn't want to go.”

  “I'll start looking for prospects,” I tell him.

  While
I drive back to school, Julian turns on a country radio station and tries to get me to sing a duet with him.

  “Neither of us even knows this song,” I say. “Besides, I have to concentrate. You're distracting me.”

  “Part of learning to drive is learning to deal effectively with distractions,” he says.

  Later on, I think about what Julian said: maybe part of learning to live is learning to deal effectively with distractions. But how do you tell the difference between a distraction and something you really should pay attention to?

  JULIAN'S AT MY HOUSE PLAYING SOME GAME WHERE HE RIPS the heads off trolls and dragons. I am pretending to do my homework, the way I did before he asked me to prom, before he kissed me. It's confusing. I don't know how I'm supposed to act. It'd be great if I could just make out with him all the time, I guess, but I don't know what he wants. I don't know how much different the before and after are supposed to look when it comes to us. Sometimes I want to ask him, just so I don't have to wonder and feel so awkward all the time. But I don't want him to think I'm crazy.

  “Any luck finding Al a prom date?” Julian asks me.

  “Why don't we try to get him to take Haley?” I suggest.

  “Mike Hickenlooper wants to ask her.”

  “Mike Hickenlooper? Really? I thought he was with Kiera Garcia.”

  “Nope. She dumped him. Did you see that?” He motions to the game. “His spinal cord came out with his head, that doesn't always happen.”

  “Gross. So is he going to ask Haley?”

  “Who knows?”

  “What if he gets back together with Kiera, then what happens to Haley? She'll end up at the prom with a guy who wants to be with someone else.”

  “This conversation is starting to sound too much like a female conspiracy. And I just got fried by a dragon. Let's just forget about prom for a while; I'm sorry I brought it up. It'll all work out somehow.”

  I'M TALKING TO JULIAN ON THE PHONE AND THE OTHER LINE rings. Haley's number flashes on the caller ID screen.

  “Haley's calling,” I tell him.

  “Oh, do you need to go, then?”

  “Nah, I'll call her later.”