Back on the homepage, I clicked on the last link, Listen. Click here to listen to Jack’s smash hit, “Good Enough”!
I hesitated, my finger twitching for a second before I clicked. Soon, Jack’s voice filled my sunlit apartment.
From the start I knew there was no going back
Jumping off cliffs had nothing on you
But it wasn’t good enough
I told you the things no one else knew
About me
You told me you weren’t the girl
All the others see
I thought you were different
I guess that’s on me
And I wasn’t good enough for you, no
Not good enough for you
I listened to it five more times.
I thought you were different. I guess that’s on me, he sang. Once, he had said almost the exact same thing to me.
Slowly, I closed my laptop. It hurt to breathe. I backed away from my computer as if it had morphed into something that might hurt me.
Jack had proved us all wrong—he did what he said he was going to do. I tried to swallow. My mouth was dry—sour—my throat thick. He had become a star.
And his hit song was about me.
Chapter Two
Celebrity Weekly Online…Your One-Stop Shop for Celebrity News! Meet Your Newest Obsession: Jack Moreland
If you haven’t heard Jack’s debut single “Good Enough,” then you haven’t been paying attention! The newest hottie to top the charts is more than just a pretty face—he’s seriously talented and, going by our first listen to his superb freshman effort, has some serious scores to settle. His entire album, also titled Good Enough, plays like the soundtrack to an angsty adolescence, and though he tells us that his songs are about no one in particular, we’re not so sure. (Case in point: check out “Prom Night (Your Lies),” and tell us if he hasn’t portrayed exactly what it feels like to be jilted on the biggest night of a teenager’s life). With songs like “That Girl,” in which he sings: “It’s sad/When you’re so afraid of everyone else/That you can’t be yourself/I’m surprised you even know your own name,” it’s hard to believe he’s not bitter about something. Every song, though, is not an indictment. Some, like “Not What I Expected,” revolve around a girl who defies stereotype, and in “Breakdown,” Moreland yearns to know his love better. And then there’s the sexy and yearning “Wanting,” quite possibly the album’s most emotional song, anchored by its chorus that laments what we want but can’t have. Listening to the album is like trying to put together clues to a frustrating but ultimately fascinating puzzle. And don’t fret—our staffers are dedicated to getting to the bottom of Moreland’s mysterious past. In the meantime, GO BUY THE ALBUM!
Grade: A+
I stared at the screen, my head fuzzy from reading the same article over and over. The words floated around my mind, like pieces to a puzzle. Serious scores to settle…angsty adolescence…prom night…mysterious past…about no one in particular…entire album.
Not just one song. An album.
I took out my phone, navigated to iTunes, and downloaded the album. In less than three minutes, his songs were all there, waiting for me.
1. not what i expected
2. café nights
3. ride home
4. abandon
5. palladium
6. wanting
7. breakdown
8. that girl
9. prom night (your lies)
10. good enough
I stared at the titles, letting them sink in. Ten songs, an album. Ten songs, according to Jack, that were “about no one in particular”. They were, though. These ten songs were a catalog of our relationship—from beginning to end.
I scrambled over to my bag, emptying it out on my bed, searching for my earbuds. There was my wallet, an umbrella, three tubes of lip gloss, a bunch of pennies, and crumpled tissues. The headphones, however, were nowhere to be found. They weren’t in my desk drawer or nightstand either.
“Did you lose a million dollars or something?”
I gasped, clutching my hand to my chest. Sarah was suddenly in my room, and she laughed. “Sorry. I thought you heard me.” She plopped on my bed. “What’s going on?”
I grabbed my laptop and phone and set them on my desk where she couldn’t see. “Oh, I can’t find my, uh, credit card.”
“Did you have it at the bridal shop today?”
I pretended to think. “Maybe…”
“We can stop by on the way to Amber’s, if you want. You ready?”
Shit. The party. “What time is it?”
She laughed again, but she also looked worried about me. “Seven. Time to go. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I…I hope someone didn’t steal my card.”
Sometimes I shocked myself at how well I could still lie. The new me wasn’t a liar. And yet…
As she moved toward the door, I gathered my bag and let out a sigh of relief. “Found it!”
“Where was it?”
“My wallet, actually. I didn’t see it there before.”
“You’re funny.”
Before we left the apartment, Sarah turned to me, her blue eyes open and honest as always. “Do you really not want to go? I know we sort of forced this on you.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s been kind of an adjustment.”
I wanted to tell her how I’d so much rather the two of us stay in and order Chinese and watch a stupid movie on TV. The kind of stuff we did when we were kids, before we met Amber. When it was just Sarah and me, best friends forever.
She put her hand on my shoulder. “I know. Have you heard from Owen?”
I shook my head. I was truly okay with that. We’d lived together, moving from Providence to Boston when he’d gotten an engineering job there right after college, but it was more out of a sense of not knowing what else to do and a desire to live in the city, rather than because I couldn’t bear to be away from him. If she thought that was why I was acting a little sullen, I would let her go on believing it.
“Look, it’s going to be okay. I know you’re not in Boston, but still, you’ve got a cool job—” She paused when I gave her the “if you say so” face. “Okay, you’ve got a job in journalism, which is what you wanted. You’re starting your own business—”
“I got one book out of the library on how to apply for a business loan,” I said. I wondered if the art of exaggeration was taught in law school.
“Right, well, that’s the first step. Hey, you’ve got your friends, right? Things are going to be okay.”
I appreciated what she was doing, especially considering the fact that Sarah did not generally look on the bright side. She seemed to have gotten better since high school, when life was one calamity after another, and she was really trying to cheer me up. For a second, it worked. But then I remembered the song and how there were so many things about me that Sarah didn’t know.
…
To my surprise, Amber’s place wasn’t a McMansion. It was a really cute ranch house with a white wraparound porch and clapboard siding. Amber stood at the door, all tan legs and arms in a white dress. She hugged us, even though barely four hours had passed since we’d last seen one another. “I’m so glad you’re here! Let me give you the tour.”
Inside, there were hardwood floors and a brick fireplace. One of the engagement pictures I’d taken of her and Peter had a prominent place above the mantel.
As we moved further into the house, voices rose up, and a familiar sense of dread blanketed me. I hated large groups, always having to be on, always needing to know the right things to say and how to act.
Two things struck me as we walked through the living room, under an archway, and into the kitchen. The first was the sign that ran from one end of the cabinets to the other: welcome home natalie! in big block letters. I imagined a couple of other words that could have taken their place. epic fail and you thought you could get away, but haha.
Lori ambushed
Sarah and me as soon as we entered the kitchen. “I have news, you guys!” She waited a beat to build anticipation. Behind her, Amber situated a bowl of chips and rolled her eyes. “Mike Upton’s back in town.”
My stomach dropped as I turned to glance at Sarah. She crossed her arms, took a sharp breath in, and said, “Oh?”
Lori nodded. “Kurt’s sister Hannah works at the bank with this girl Heather, who’s best friends with Mike’s sister, Katie. Apparently, he couldn’t find a job. You know, the economy and all.” She made a sadface in my direction. “So he was working at a Honey Farms while watching all his Northeastern friends land the jobs he wanted. Then—this is what I heard—he had a nervous breakdown. His girlfriend broke up with him. He’s moving back in with his parents.”
It took a minute to process the whole, complicated story. “Are you sure?” I asked. “A nervous breakdown is pretty serious.”
Lori shrugged. “That’s what Hannah said that Katie told Heather.”
“In that case,” Amber said dryly.
“I highly doubt he had an actual nervous breakdown,” I said.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what I heard.” She glanced at Sarah. “Have you seen him since high school?”
Sarah shook her head. Of all of us, she’d always been the most expressive, physically unable to keep her feelings off her face. That was probably the biggest difference between the two of us. Right now, her expression was unreadable, but I knew what must be going on beneath the surface—panic, dread, the tiniest bit of anticipation at seeing him again—all the unresolved feelings she’d been harboring since their breakup senior year. The breakup that she still didn’t know the truth about: only Amber and I did. I tried to catch Amber’s eye to see if she’d at least acknowledge our secret—the things we did to people—but she had already moved to the door, ushering in the first group of guests to my welcome-home party.
It seemed like half of our graduating class had been invited, most of whom I hadn’t seen since I left for college. Most notably, Adam Dixon, former captain of the basketball team, holding a beer in his hands and beer weight around his middle. I’d somehow managed to avoid him the past three months, but tonight my luck had run out.
He approached me first, putting his meaty hands around me, pulling me close to him in a hug. His breath reeked of alcohol. “Nice to have you back,” he said, as if he had some sort of claim on me.
I endured the obligatory hug, then pulled away. “Thanks.”
Others took turns welcoming me back, and there were some I was actually interested in reconnecting with, to remember where they’d gone to college and to find out what they were doing now. Adam got farther away and I relaxed a little. I relaxed even more when Peter came around and handed me a glass of wine. He seemed nice, though I didn’t know him very well. I found it hard not to be suspicious of someone who was willingly about to spend the rest of his life with Amber. They did make a striking couple. They both had an air of importance about them, the kind of people who could easily work a room.
There was a commotion as more people showed up, Kurt and a few other guys who used to be on the basketball team. Kurt gave me a one-armed hug. “Look who we brought with us.”
Behind them, Mike Upton walked into the room. He still had his baby face and blue eyes. “The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.” He looked directly at Lori.
“I’m sorry!” She hugged him. “I only know what I heard.”
Mike shrugged. “Ah, well. Life in a small town.”
The room seemed to hold its breath—or maybe it was just me?—as Mike and Sarah saw each other again. “Hey there,” he said.
There was an awkward moment when they stepped toward each other, positioning themselves in a not-quite hug that turned into a handshake. Nervous laughter followed. “Hi,” she said.
Mike’s face had gone red. It took a couple of minutes of small talk to return to normal. “I heard you were gone for a while, too,” he said to me.
“Came back in March.”
“Comrades in arms,” he said.
I laughed. Next to me, there was a loud laugh. It was Adam, leaning into me to reach for a bag of chips, and when I glanced at him, I caught him staring down my shirt. He didn’t care that I caught him. He actually tweaked his eyebrow at me, which I assumed was his way of asking if I was interested. I nearly threw up in my mouth. Inching away from him, I lifted the tank top under my V-neck as high as it would go. “You picked a great time to come back,” Amber was saying to Derek. “You can come to my wedding shower. It’s a Jack and Jill.”
“Oh. So I guess there is an upside to living in my parents’ basement.” Mike laughed, but everyone else was unsure how to react. Kurt patted him on the shoulder.
Amber’s eyes widened as if something had just occurred to her, and she turned to Sarah. “You know, he should talk to Derek, don’t you think?” Sarah looked at her blankly. “Sarah’s boyfriend,” Amber explained to Mike. “He’s in HR at the hospital where Peter works. He might know of some openings.”
Right when I thought things couldn’t get more awkward. Mike nodded politely. “Thanks, but I have a degree in engineering.”
I noticed a family of beer bottles on the island, grabbed one, and handed it to Mike. He took it wordlessly, thanking me with his eyes.
It turned out that hanging out with my friends now wasn’t much different than hanging out with them in high school. Lori and Kurt moved around the house together, Lori barely clearing his shoulders. Just like in high school, but at least now they admitted they were sleeping together. We drank—I nursed the same glass of wine all night, but the rest of the supply dispersed quickly among the group—and gossiped about the people who weren’t in the room. It didn’t take long for Jack Moreland’s name to come up.
Some of the group had heard about the song, others hadn’t. Amber still couldn’t remember him, so Lori suggested she go get her senior yearbook. I’d thrown mine away a long time ago, but Amber’s was right there on the bookshelf in the living room. We gathered around her as she flipped through the pages. It took a while to get to Jack’s picture. Lori kept stopping and pointing at different pictures, and the group would chime in with their memories of parties and basketball games and drunken nights in Adam’s basement.
The pictures my eyes settled on brought up memories that weren’t so glorious. There was Bradley Long, a little shrimp of a boy with a high-pitched voice who we all called Brenda, who told me one day in chemistry that he liked my seashell necklace. He went on about how his dad was an oceanographer and had an extensive seashell collection. Even now, I could remember how his eyes were always watery due to perpetual allergies. I was scared that someone would overhear us talking, so I loudly moved my desk as far away from him as I could and said, “Get away from me, you perv.”
And how about Roxanne Levi, an extremely uncoordinated band geek who tried out for the cheerleading squad? She fell in the middle of her routine, nearly twisting an ankle. Even though I knew I should’ve asked her if she was okay, I didn’t. I sat there with Amber and laughed.
My head started to hurt. I was about to get up and search for an aspirin when I caught a glimpse of my senior photo. I loved that emerald green sweater. It was so soft, and green was my best color because it brought out the green in my otherwise muddy eyes. I could still remember the day I got that picture taken, a gray November Monday, a week after Jack had kissed me for the first time. I had wondered if my friends would be able to see it in the picture, the fact that I had a secret.
“There he is,” Lori said, stopping the page turning with her finger.
There he was. Long hair curled around his ear. He’d taken the hoop out of his eyebrow for his parents. He wore a white shirt and blue tie. The caption under the picture said: Jack Moreland. Goal: To be a musician.
Under my picture, my goal was to be a photojournalist in Boston. It was funny, after all the time I worried about Jack not having a back-up plan,
it turned out that he wasn’t the one who needed one.
“He does not look like the picture I saw of him in Celebrity Weekly,” Lori said. “He’s hot now.”
I didn’t need to look at the picture—and I didn’t, I looked away—to remember his eyes, eyelashes, lips. The others had never seen him the way I did.
“I remember that kid.” Adam filled the tiny space between the arm of the couch and me. When he leaned over to get a better look at the yearbook, he nearly crushed me, if I didn’t die from the noxious fumes of his aftershave first. “Can I get a soda?” he said in a high-pitched voice, and the group laughed. That’s how they used to bully him, blocking him from the Coke machine as if it proved something, made them better somehow.
They. Them. I keep distancing myself from it, but the truth was I’d been right there. On Adam’s side.
Not good enough…not good enough for you…
That was how I made him feel, even though I’d never meant to. But did intentions matter? I never intended to hurt anyone, but there were so many people I’d been mean to back then. For so long, all I’d ever wanted to do was get out of Stonebury. To never be in a room with these people again. And here I was, surrounded.
At the end of the night, Sarah went to Derek’s, and I walked home alone. The streets were mostly empty, but every now and then there would be a couple sitting on a bench or walking hand-in-hand through the park. Tonight had felt so strange. All those people calling me Natalie. It was like someone else was answering to it.
…
The next morning, I woke early, showered, and dressed. I took a bite of some toast and left the apartment. I still hadn’t listened to the songs I downloaded—though I found my earbuds stuck between my mattress and the bed frame—and for some reason, I had an overwhelming urge to hold the physical copy of Jack’s CD in my hands.
The Mean Girl Apologies Page 2
