The Bad Boy and the Tomboy

by Nicole Nwosu

  “I apologized so many times that day,” Jasmine said. Mom was sympathetic; she hadn’t minded.

  I looked away from the pictures, turning to my friends. “Let’s go?”

  In the car, Jasmine, in the passenger seat, gave me pointers as Andrew drove. “Be yourself. Also be a little more polite and eat like a normal person.”

  “Jas, you told her to be herself,” Andrew said as he made a left.

  “Right. Mace, be yourself.”

  “Jasmine, put on your seat belt!” Andrew exclaimed.

  She pulled the seat belt across her chest and added, “Also, when we were talking earlier today at school, Stevie was telling me how Beatrice was staring at you.”

  Even the sound of Beatrice’s name left me irritated. “I feel like she’s going to do something to me.”

  “It’s not your fault Sam is ignoring her.” I’d seen Sam flirt with other girls, not just me. It was so like Beatrice to just focus on me.

  “We’re here,” Andrew announced as he pulled into the driveway.

  “Holy shit,” said Jasmine. It was a Victorian-looking home, similar to the rest of the houses in the rich neighborhood, but the biggest in the area. It had a long driveway and an elaborately landscaped garden, and a narrow pathway led to the front steps.

  “They’re loaded,” Jasmine sang.

  “Good luck, Mace,” Andrew said.

  “Have fun!” Jasmine yelled out the window as Andrew drove out of the long driveway.

  Walking up the steps, I was raising my hand to knock on the door when it flew open. The youngest Cahill looked elated to see me. “Macy!”

  He closed the door behind me. “Hey, kiddo,” I said, my voice trailing off as I took in the interior of the home. A wide staircase led to the second floor. “Wow.”

  I had just managed to take off my shoes when he grabbed my hand and dragged me down the corridor and into another room. We entered the living room, which had couches, an ottoman, and a large flat screen perched on the wall. Boy Meets World, playing on the TV, was being watched by a person on the couch.

  “Macy’s here,” Phillip announced, and the person’s eyes darted to me.

  With blue eyes not as intense as Sam’s but nevertheless piercing, he had the same Cahill charm, lean build, and a familiar smirk on his face as he stepped toward me, his hand out. “Ivan.”

  The brother. “Macy.”

  “We’ve heard.” The voice came from a woman who entered the room. She was tall with straight, shiny dark hair and had blue eyes shaped similarly to Ivan’s, and a mouth like Cedric’s. When Mrs. Cahill spoke, her English accent was prominent. “Cedric’s told us so much about you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cahill.” I shook her hand, her motherly presence allowing me to relax.

  “Call me Liz,” she said as a phone rang.

  Ivan took his out of his pocket. “I have to work on a few things, I’ll join dinner in a bit, Mum.” As he passed by me on the way out, he shot me a wink. “Good luck.”

  “Sam should have been home by now.” She tsked as Ivan left the room. “And Cedric too.”

  “Here, I’m here.” Cedric rushed into the room. “Had practice. Was in the shower. Macy, my mum. Mum, this is Macy.”

  “We’ve been introduced.” Liz patted him on the back. “I’m going to go get your father. Show her to the dining room. Give her a tour of the place afterward, hmm?”

  “A tour?” I asked when she left.

  “There are a lot of rooms. C’mon.” Cedric pulled me by the hand and we followed Phillip into the dining room.

  Phillip gestured for me to sit across from him at the table. “You and Cedric are”—he gagged—“dating?” He pointed his fork at Cedric, who took a seat next to me. “This isn’t illegal?”

  “How would it be illegal?” Cedric asked as Liz walked in and put some food on the table. My stomach growled.

  “She’s my coach,” Phillip said.

  “You coach Phillip?” Liz took a seat next to her youngest.

  “I’m a volunteer coach for house league soccer at the rec center.”

  Liz’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes! I heard you play footy.”

  “I’ve played for years,” I said.

  “What position?”

  “Forward,” a familiar voice answered. “Hazel here is the captain of the boys’ team.” Sam took the seat on the other side of Phillip. I hadn’t been expecting him to actually show up to this dinner. Cedric cleared his throat, looking discomforted at the sight of Sam.

  “Really?” Liz asked. “Also, her name is Macy, Samuel.”

  Samuel? “I’m her friend,” Sam proudly stated. “It irritates her when I don’t call her by her name.”

  “Friend?” Mrs. Cahill’s eyes ran me over as if she hadn’t seen me properly. “Besides Caleb?”

  “Yes, I do have friends, Aunt Liz.” Liz glared at him. He immediately cringed. “Sorry.”

  She turned to the rest of us. “Let’s get started with dinner, shall we?”

  “Not without me, you won’t.” A deep voice boomed through the dining room. The way Sam’s fist clenched on the table made it clear this night wasn’t going to run smoothly.

  Mr. Cahill stood at the door in a suit, his black shirt topped with a deep-magenta tie. I recognized Cedric and Phillip’s brown eyes and Phillip’s wavy hair. However, my dad was right: Sam shared similarities with his uncle. Their nose, face shape, and mouth were alike, yet Mr. Cahill’s voice was deeper, his accent more pronounced. His eyes turned to me when he sat down at the head of the table. “And who’s this?”

  “This is my girlfriend, Macy Anderson,” Cedric said.

  Ivan entered the room, taking a seat next to Sam as Mr. Cahill said, “Vince Cahill.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I responded, shyness suddenly overcoming me. Phillip was quick to turn the conversation to his day at school as everyone ate. I struggled to not inhale everything in front of me; someone tapped their foot against mine under the table. Sam had an amused expression on his face as he put chicken in his mouth. I shook my head in disbelief at how good the meal was and he snorted, getting a weird look from his aunt.

  “Macy, I’ve heard you play football,” Mr. Cahill said to me. The question period of the evening. You got this. The uneasy feeling that overcame me when I fiddled my thumbs told me otherwise.

  “On the school team and usually at a soccer club. It’s off-season for both.”

  “Any plans after high school?” Mr. Cahill asked me.

  “I’m deciding on different places. Haven’t made a choice yet.”

  “What kind of student are you?”

  That was vague. “Pardon me?”

  “Do you take Advanced Placement classes?” Mr. Cahill clarified. I nodded. “Any awards?”

  “I got the physics award last year.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Mrs. Cahill praised me.

  “Are you coming to my party on Saturday?” Phillip asked me.

  “Yup. I have a great present for you.” A jersey for a soccer player he couldn’t stop talking about whenever I saw him.

  “Is it a laptop? Is it a new phone? A trampoline?”

  Phillip’s enthusiasm put a halt to my fiddling thumbs. “You’ll have to wait.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “What does your father do?” Mr. Cahill interjected.

  “Why do you care? Her dad isn’t her,” Sam said. Oh crap.

  “What does your father do?” Mr. Cahill repeated, not bothering to acknowledge his nephew.

  “He’s a lawyer,” I answered. “He says he knows you. Nick Anderson.”

  “Nick! Good man. And your mother?”

  “She died in a car accident nine years ago.”

  They all fell silent—even Mr. Cahill, who wasn’t expecting my
answer. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t act like you know what to say when something like that happens,” Sam muttered. His grip on his fork was tight.

  “Sam,” Ivan started but Sam was glowering at his uncle.

  Mr. Cahill ran a hand through his hair as if this happened all the time. “Let’s continue with dinner.”

  Cedric found his phone more interesting than the conversation and everyone else was quiet, but Sam wasn’t having it. “‘Let’s continue with dinner’ and just forget things, right? That’s not how life works, Uncle Vince.”

  “You wouldn’t know how life works.” Mr. Cahill’s tone was quiet. “All you do is constantly get into trouble.”

  “Don’t turn this on me,” Sam said.

  “With all the detentions? I’m surprised you haven’t been suspended yet.” His uncle’s gaze held nothing but failed expectations. “And do we need to remind you of the arson incident? Why do you think you’re here?”

  Sam stood up. “That’s irrelevant. At least ask her proper questions instead of being condescending. She doesn’t deserve that. Honestly, I can’t fucking do this.” He walked out and the door slammed shut behind him. Everyone stared at that door in a heavy silence, but I exhaled slowly. Vince’s jaw clenched as he continued eating while I remained stunned by how normalized their argument was by the rest of the family regardless of Sam attempting to defend me.

  The rest of the dinner proceeded with no more questions from Vince as Phillip filled the air with conversation about his upcoming birthday party. I was tense, only relaxing a little bit when Mr. Cahill excused himself to take a phone call.

  After dinner, I was saying good-bye to Mrs. Cahill at the front door when Cedric walked over to us, twirling his keys in his hands. “Ready to go?”

  I nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Liz.”

  “You too, Macy.” Although the evening did not go as planned, she didn’t show it, saying good-bye as Phillip waved at me as he ran in the direction of the living room.

  Cedric and I headed in the direction of his car parked in the driveway when he sighed, “That could have gone worse.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I said with some encouragement. Cedric shot me a look. “Okay, yes, it could’ve gone better. It’s always like that?”

  “Sometimes,” Cedric said when we got into his car.

  “Do you think Sam’s okay?”

  Cedric started the car. “Don’t worry. Sam’s fine.”

  Sam was not fine.

  He hid it pretty well during lunch on Thursday, talking to our friends and me as if the blowout at dinner or his uncle didn’t affect him. That afternoon, after my soccer practice was over, I came back from filling up my water bottle to see him juggling a soccer ball.

  Today, Cedric offered to pick me up after I spent time here despite me living fifteen minutes away by foot. Usually, I was used to spending time here with Sam after practice, but he didn’t seem like good company today; Sam looked mad.

  He had three soccer balls lined up a good distance from each other. He stood behind one, hands on his hips as he paused for a moment before running and kicking it straight into the net. I wouldn’t have thought something was bothering him by the first shot. But as he proceeded to make the same precise goal with each of them, his movements were rigid.

  As the last ball hit the net, he said, “I know you’re watching, Hazel.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Your size thirteen feet could be heard all the way from here.” He smirked at his lame joke, retrieving a ball from the net. Clearly, he was feeling better. He walked toward me with the ball. “I saw you come in.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having big feet.”

  “Can I call you bigfoot instead of Hazel?”

  Despite his jokes, I wasn’t going to pretend that yesterday’s dinner didn’t occur. “Are you okay?”

  Sam became serious. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t,” I assured him as he played with the chain of his necklace.

  “The man bothers me. And the way he was treating you didn’t help at all.” He leaned his head back, as if in pain. “I don’t care if he’s my uncle or not—you need to act like you’re with the guys when you’re talking to him. You don’t let them push you around, so don’t let him push you around either.”

  Sam turned, dropping the ball he had been holding. He dribbled forward a bit before taking the shot, and the ball curved into the air before hitting the back of the net. Sam was about to move to get the ball when I stopped him.

  “When I mentioned my mom at dinner, I know why you reacted in the way that you did.”

  His eyes went down to the turf of the indoor field. “Who told you? Cedric?” When I didn’t answer he nodded to himself. “You would’ve found out eventually.”

  Sam’s hand went to his necklace. He shifted the chain and brought out the pendant that had been underneath his shirt: a small golden B. “Bethany. She was my twin sister.”

  I took a step toward him. “It’s pretty. Was this hers?”

  “Originally.” He wasn’t looking at me.

  “Your uncle mentioned an incident,” I said. “Involving arson. I mean, you don’t have to tell me—”

  “I got caught up with the wrong people last year.” He placed the pendant back under his shirt. “Luckily, I didn’t face any serious charges. Only a warning.”

  “What did you guys do?”

  “We did a bunch of shit. We weren’t friends or anything. One incident—the arson one—was a little too serious. My parents found out who I was hanging around with when everyone got into trouble. They decided it was the last straw and I got sent here.”

  Without thinking I asked, “If you weren’t friends with them—with anyone besides Caleb—then why did you become friends with me? And the group.”

  “I became friends with you because I wanted to.”

  That was too vague. “What’s the real reason?”

  He didn’t answer. This conversation pertaining to his sister or even his time in England was over. His eyes went to my duffel bag slung over my shoulder. “This heart-to-heart conversation has been fun. Football?”

  Half an hour later, Sam stood in the net, gloves on his hands. I took a few steps back and kicked the ball in the direction of the top right corner. He dived, coming forward as the ball threatened to soar over his head, and caught it in his hands, hissing slightly at the force. He rolled the ball back to me. “Stop being predictable. You only got, like, two goals in.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Don’t look at where you’re going to shoot,” he said. “You can but don’t linger on that spot too long. Okay?”

  He took his position, hands on his bended knees, eyes on me. Once I found my target area, I ran forward and fake kicked the ground before kicking the ball. It swerved into the net, barely missing Sam’s fingertips and he fell to the ground. “Good.”

  “Macy!” Phillip’s voice cut through the air. He ran over to us, Cedric not far behind him.

  “Hey.” Cedric’s cheerful expression faltered when he saw his cousin.

  Phillip ran to the ball I had previously set up, kicking it in Sam’s direction. Sam moved out of the way, letting the ball go in the net. “Nice one, buddy. What are you doing here?”

  Surprisingly, Cedric answered as Phillip ran over to the bleachers to grab Sam’s duffel bag and jacket. “He wanted you to take him to gymnastics today.”

  Sam nodded. The tension of their exchange made me shift uncomfortably when Phillip came back. “You ready to go?” Cedric asked me as Sam changed out of his cleats and into regular shoes.

  “Give me a second, I have to go to the change room.”

  “Bye, Macy!” Phillip said, running off the field. “C’mon, Sam, we have to go!”

  Sam didn’t say anything
further, hiking his duffel bag over his shoulder as he followed his cousin out of the building.

  10

  Benjamin Ian the Great

  My best friends being a couple was completely fine with me. However, where Jasmine and I usually chatted during the four minutes before we had to get to class, she now spent it making out with Andrew in front of her locker. When Stevie and I were going to get a ride in Andrew’s car a few days ago, the couple delayed us once again. And again during lunch the following day.

  “Guys.” The pair turned to me. “I love the fact that you both are happy with one another. But this is something everyone has to get used to.”

  “Tone it down,” Austin said. “It’s school, not your bedroom.”

  “Sorry.” Jasmine linked her arm with mine, all of us walking into the cafeteria.

  Cedric sat across the room with his friends. Despite the two of us dating, I liked that we didn’t have to sit at the same table with each other. Sometimes we’d hang out together at lunch, but for the most part lunch was spent with our separate friends.

  Cedric walked over to me. He told me a few days ago that he had a rugby game about an hour away from the city. “Are you leaving right after school?”

  “Yeah, I’ll text you after the game,” he said.

  “What game?” Austin asked.

  “I have a rugby match,” Cedric explained, saying his greetings to the boys and Jasmine before turning back to me. He pressed a kiss to my cheek then headed back to his friends.

  “Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Sam and he are related,” Austin commented.

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled as Stevie joined us.

  “Sam has his surprising moments,” Caleb said. “He’s a freaky genius. You guys should see his marks in math.”

  “His rep around school is definitely different than he appears,” Jon Ming mumbled.

  My friends listed off their plans for tonight, most of them heading to a party. I turned to my best friends, awaiting their answer. “Movies,” Andrew said. “You want to come with?”

  I didn’t want to intrude on a date. “It’s all good.”