by Kasie West
I couldn’t solve all my problems right that second, but I could try to at least solve one, the one inside my house. I forced myself out of bed and searched for my brother. He was sitting on the back porch staring at the sequoias in the distance. I sat in the patio chair next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest. In the light of day, I could see he had a small red mark by his left eye.
“So. What are we going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I told one of my teachers like you suggested and that just made it worse. They started calling me a narc.”
“I’m sorry. How did this all start?” I put my legs down and turned to face him.
“I answered a question the first day of school. The teacher made too big a deal about how I must’ve done the reading over the summer.”
“You read over the summer?”
“No. I just happened to know the answer.”
“You are pretty smart.”
“These guys started calling me kiss-up and nerd. It escalated from there, probably because I didn’t react at all.”
I sighed. “I wish you would’ve told me.”
“I kind of did with the email.”
I kicked his foot with mine. “That doesn’t count.”
He shrugged. “Maybe Mom will let me be homeschooled.”
“Don’t run away from this, Max. Unless you want to be homeschooled. Did you want to before all this?”
“No.”
A ladybug landed on the wood railing in front of us and crawled along it. “I think some of what Victoria said on the podcast was true,” I said slowly. “You need to surround yourself with people. Hang out with me or Liza and our friends. At least for a little while. Those guys are cowards. They only pick on you when you’re alone.” I paused for a moment, remembering something. “So that day I found your ripped shirt in your room? Did that really happen because you climbed the baseball fence?”
“Yes,” he said. For a second I felt relieved. Then he added, “I climbed it because they were chasing me.”
I tightened my hands into fists. “I can get Frank and Diego to give those guys a serious talking-to if you want.” I actually wasn’t sure if I could get Frank or Diego to do anything for me right now but I didn’t mention that.
“Okay,” Max said.
“Yeah?”
He swallowed hard, then nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Max. High school will get better. Not everyone is a jerk. You just have to meet your people.”
His eyes were following the ladybug now, too.
“You totally punched a guy in the face for me last night,” I said.
He laughed a little.
“It was a good punch, too.”
“It hurt, but it felt pretty good,” Max admitted.
“When did you turn into a superhero?”
“If only,” he said.
“Speaking of which, I want to read your comic. You’ll let me, right?”
“Sure.”
I spent the weekend hanging out with Max and by Sunday, he had even worked up the nerve to talk to my parents about the bullying thing. They were sweet and supportive and concerned, and they told Max he could always come to them with his problems. He looked relieved.
I had almost deluded myself into thinking that all my problems had disappeared, too. (Even though nobody had answered my texts.) But everything would be fine. I’d arrive at school Monday morning and things would be back to normal.
My delusions were put officially to rest on Monday when I got into my car to find Max in the passenger seat as usual, but no Liza in the back seat.
“Where’s Liza?” I asked Max.
“I think Aunt Marinn took her.”
“Aunt Marinn drove her thirty minutes to school?”
“Yes?”
“Liza is still beyond mad at me.” I had thought that maybe she had already paid me back with her declaration to Diego, but apparently not.
“What did you do to her?” Max asked.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“She mumbled something about assumptions and ignorance.”
“That about sums it up.”
I turned the ignition and pulled out onto the road. “I really like your comic book. You’ve gotten so good at drawing. And the writing is clever, too.”
“Liza helped me with the girl voice.”
“That was nice of her but that wasn’t even a tenth of the work. You’re just supposed to say, thank you. Here, let’s practice.” I pulled up to a stoplight and looked over at him. “Max, your comic is awesome. You’re super talented.”
He rolled his eyes. “And people call me a nerd.”
I playfully punched his arm. “Say ‘thank you.’ ”
“The light is green.”
“I’m not going until you say ‘thank you.’ ”
The car behind us honked. I stayed where I was.
“Fine, thank you.”
I laughed and applied the gas. “Now was that so hard?”
“Yes.”
“It’ll get easier.” I sighed. “Everything will get easier.” It had to. People would forgive me. We’d move forward. And we’d all be okay.
Max shifted in his seat and there was a sound of crinkling paper. He was stepping on something on the floor of the passenger seat. I glanced over to see the magazine Diego had given me. “Will you throw that on the back seat?” I asked. I didn’t want it to get damaged.
Max reached down, picked it up, and Frisbeed it onto the back seat.
“That day out at the marina when all the WaveRunners got scattered …” Max started but trailed off.
“Yeah.”
“I think it was those guys.”
I opened then shut my mouth. I had accused Frank. “What makes you think that?”
“One of them … the guy I punched … Damon, he had come to the marina the weekend before, Labor Day weekend, with his family. He saw me. His family had rented a powerboat. The whole time Dad was going over rules with his parents, Damon was walking up and down the dock, looking at everything.”
That punk kid not only picked on my brother at school but had to go and mess with our family’s business as well. I gritted my teeth. “You’re going to have to tell Dad.”
Max nodded, but his eyes went down to his hands, which were resting in his lap.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “That’s on that Damon kid, Max.”
“Maybe if I had reacted differently that very first time …”
I pulled off the road and parked against a curb. I shifted the car into park and faced my brother. “You can’t think like that. He is the one who should be analyzing his mistakes, not you. Nothing justifies what he’s been doing.”
“Thanks.” He looked out the windshield. “We’re going to be late to school.”
“This is more important to me.” I squeezed his forearm. “You do know that, right?”
His eyes flashed to mine.
“Love you, Maxie.”
“Okay, can we go to school now?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
I laughed and put the car in drive. After a few miles, he said, “Love you, too.”
“Ms. Lyon?” I said, stepping inside the empty classroom.
“Yes?”
It was early, before first period, and Ms. Lyon sat at her desk with a laptop open in front of her. She was probably prepping for the other class she taught—computer programming.
“I have some editing requests from the live show on Friday.” I placed a piece of paper down in front of her. I had made a list of everything I hoped could be cut from my less than stellar performance.
She read over the list. “This is a bit of overkill. I think taking out the word cousin would do the trick nicely. The exchange was very entertaining and will be good for the show and for you. It was some of your best work.”
“Please.” I didn’t care about that. I cared about my cousin and how it made her feel.
Ms. Lyon nodded. “Okay.”
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“Thank you.” I stood there, unable to move. Maybe now was the time to ask her about switching jobs again. Someone else would probably love the chance to host. If we kept Victoria the same, listeners probably wouldn’t even notice.
“Did you need something else?” she asked.
“No.” I left before I changed my mind.
It took Alana giving me the silent treatment through all of History for me to come to a realization. No matter what had happened over the weekend, we needed to talk about it.
So, at lunchtime, I found Alana at her locker and marched over to her. “Max needs us right now to walk with him from Spanish to the library.”
She turned around. “Okay.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me that she would readily agree. It was Alana, and it was for my brother, but I was a little surprised. We walked down the hall together.
“Are you done giving me the silent treatment, then?” she asked.
“What? You’re giving me the silent treatment. You didn’t even answer my text yesterday.”
“You didn’t text me yesterday,” she said.
Hadn’t I? I brought out my phone. I’d texted Liza; I was almost certain I had texted Alana, too. But when I clicked on her name, there was my written-out text waiting to be sent. I handed her the phone.
“Aw,” she said, reading it. “That’s sweet.”
I smiled, my spirits lifting a little.
Max was waiting outside his Spanish classroom and when he saw us, he looked relieved.
Alana hooked her arm through his, and we headed for the library. “You just need to walk around with me on your arm a few times, Max, and everyone will think you’re cool.”
“I don’t care if people think I’m cool. My only goal is not to get punched.”
“This will help with that goal as well,” Alana assured him.
“You don’t have to go to the library,” I said. “Why don’t you eat lunch with us?”
“I’m good in the library.”
“Okay.”
We dropped him off, then stood outside together.
The campus at lunch wasn’t exactly the most private place for confessions. “Can we go sit in my car?” I asked Alana.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It kind of is.”
That shocked her silent and she took hold of my hand and we walked to the car together. We got inside; me in the driver’s seat and Alana beside me in the passenger side. For once, Alana waited in silence while I tried to figure out what I needed to say. Finally I spoke.
“You kissed Frank, Alana.”
“I knew you were still mad at me for that.”
“Of course I’m mad at you. Diego is … Well, he’s Diego. Why would you do that to him?”
She opened and shut my glove compartment. “I told you, Frank kissed me first.”
“And it meant nothing to you?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know! I like Diego … I think.”
She was confused. Maybe if I told her how I felt, she’d be less confused. “What Liza said the other night at the podcast … it’s true. I like Diego, too.”
Alana took a deep breath and slid the A charm she had on her necklace back and forth along its chain a few times. “I don’t think he likes either of us right now because of the whole Looking for Love thing.”
“Yeah.”
“I tried to talk to him this morning and he’s not over it,” Alana said. “You know Diego, he’s really nice and polite. But all he gave me was a single hello and kept walking.”
I ran my finger over the Toyota logo on my steering wheel. I hadn’t seen Diego this morning, even though I’d looked for him as Max and I walked to class. “Why didn’t you ever tell him you liked him, Alana?”
She bit her lip. “I’ve never had to tell a guy I liked him before. I flirt and they do the confessing. This was different and it made me question everything.”
“It also made you like him more?” I asked.
She lifted one side of her mouth into a half smile. “Yes.”
“And what about Frank?”
“Frank is a risk. He’s not boyfriend material. He’s the kind of guy you have a fling with, not a relationship.”
So Frank scared her. That was a first.
“Plus,” she continued, “I feel like I need to see things through with Diego first. I’ve invested all this time and energy into it, I’m not ready to walk away yet. I texted him yesterday and he never responded.”
“What did you say in the text?”
“That I was sorry that we didn’t tell him that we knew he was calling in.”
Now was the time that I was supposed to step away. At least until Alana worked out her feelings. But I really didn’t want to. I wasn’t conflicted about Diego, like she obviously was. I knew exactly how I felt.
Even though it was a long shot, even though I was sure Diego had liked Alana for weeks and that he probably hadn’t once thought of me as anything more than a friend, I wanted him to know how I felt. And I didn’t want to lose Alana over this, either. Was that the very definition of having my cake and eating it, too? I didn’t want to have to choose. I let my head fall back on the headrest.
“I want to tell Diego how I feel,” I admitted. “And I don’t want to lose you over it.”
Her grip was back on the A, moving it back and forth over and over again along her chain. “And I can tell him how I feel and not lose you over it?”
I swallowed. The idea tightened across my chest, but I knew I had to say, “Of course.”
“It will be weird. We’ll create this awkward dynamic between the three of us.”
I shook my head. “If he chooses you, I’ll let him go. There will be nothing weird.”
“We’re going to make him choose? How horribly antifeminist of us.”
“The Woman Power part will be that his choice won’t break us apart,” I argued. “We’ll still be best friends no matter what.” I turned toward her, my eyes pleading. “Right?”
Alana looked thoughtful. “I’ve never had to compete with you for a guy.”
“I know. What am I thinking, challenging the master?”
Alana smirked. “Is there a reality show about this yet? Two friends, one guy, death.”
“Death?”
“Love, death, we’ll see.” Alana was joking, that was a good sign. She patted the console between us. “I’m not supposed to give up, am I? Was that what you were hoping would come of this?”
“No, actually. I was thinking I was supposed to give up.”
“He’s going to choose neither of us, mark my words. Because now we’ve turned him into some sort of competition.”
“Not a competition. Just a prize,” I teased.
Alana stuck out her hand and I shook it. “May the best woman win.”
She seemed like she was being funny and lighthearted, but I heard an edge to the words. I sensed that no matter the outcome, I was going to lose someone at the end of this.
Tuesday morning, when I was all ready for school, I marched into my mom’s bedroom. I was feeling so emboldened from my declaration to Alana the day before, I figured I might as well continue making declarations.
Mom looked up from where she was making her bed.
“I’m not going to quit,” I announced.
“What?” she asked.
“I like the podcast.”
“Okay,” my mom said.
“And I’m actually good at it. I have fun. Victoria and I work well together. I’ve been working hard for this.” Probably harder than I’d ever worked for anything, I realized. The marina, the lake, that was easy. It came naturally. The podcast was something I’d had to fight for. And there was a satisfaction in that.
“I know you have,” Mom said, looking at me thoughtfully. “I just didn’t want you doing something that was making you unhappy.”
“It’s not. And maybe because of it, I’m going to choose something different someday.”
“Choose something different?” she asked.
“I thought at the beginning of the year that no matter what else I did, I’d always choose the lake. But now … I don’t know. There seem to be more possibilities for the future. I want to try new things.” As much as it killed me to say that out loud because it meant my parents were right, it was the truth. “I’ll always love the lake, and maybe this is where I’ll land in the end. The point is, I’m not sure anymore.”
Mom smiled. “I know. And I’ll always love you. And, Kate, you can try whatever you want to.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I pointed over my shoulder. “I better go. Don’t want to be late for school.”
On my way out the door, I grabbed my backpack and Max followed me to my car. My smile widened when I saw Liza in the back seat.
“I would’ve ridden with my mom,” Liza snapped as Max and I got inside, “but she said that she refused to drive me a second day in a row.”
“Are you going to hate me forever?” I asked. “What can I do to make this up to you? I made a mistake.”
She gave a small grunt. For the rest of the trip, she read the Lake Life magazine that she’d picked up off the back seat. When we got to the school she asked, “Have you read this yet?”
“Now you’re going to talk to me?” I asked.
She shook the magazine at me.
“No, I haven’t, so you can’t take it,” I replied.
“Fine.” She plopped it back down and got out of the car. Maybe I should’ve given her the magazine, extended some goodwill, but it was the only thing Diego had ever given me.
Max and Liza walked off together, and I saw Alana and Diego standing by his car. Really? She was already in the lead? Well, she was already in the lead before but she was just cementing it now. I steeled myself. If I was going to do this, I had to put myself out there.
I grabbed hold of my backpack straps and made my way to them. I could hear him holding a civil conversation with Alana, nothing overly friendly, but not bad, either. Had he forgiven her? If that was the case, he could forgive me, too.
I took one last breath for courage and slid up beside Alana. “Hi,” I said, looking at the collar of his shirt first and then forcing my gaze up to his eyes. I missed those eyes. They instantly went cold.
