“That’s not my fault! Alexa changed it, I swear.”
“Alexa changed it? Really, Seb? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“It’s true! She had been begging me to break up with you, but I didn’t want to. I loved you so much. I do love you!”
“Had been begging? Had been? How long had she been begging Sebastian? Just how long exactly had it been going on?”
All the details I’d been questioning to myself, all the scenarios I’d imagined. Maybe it’s even worse than I thought.
Sebastian goes hospital-sheet white at his slip up.
“It’s over,” I say. “I don’t even want to know the details. I’m past this Sebastian, I’m moving on, and I’m finding happiness in my life now. I refuse to go backwards. I want to surround myself with people who are worthy of my time. You are no longer on that list. Sadly, I’m not sure you ever deserved to be. So go back to Alexa. Does she know how hard you’re trying to win me back? Is she plan B? Or did you really think you could play us both again?”
His face falls in defeat. “It’s not like that.”
I pat him on the arm. “It’s been real. Bye.”
I walk away as smoothly as I can, even as the hurt tries to tug the scars on my heart open.
By the time I get outside, I find Frankie walking on the curbs like they’re balance beams, arms out, tightrope-style.
“Took you long enough!” She calls across the lot, pushing the button to unlock her Jetta. “What’s wrong? Is it the DJ Big Dee thing?”
My heart drops. “What DJ Big Dee thing?”
Frankie looks into the tree branches above me and rearranges her bangs. “Oh… Nothing. So what’s wrong?”
“No. What did you mean by that? What’s up with DJ Big Dee?” My stomach swirls into a tornado, bile creeping up my throat. I look over the top of Frankie’s car. Her face crumples as if she’s in pain.
“I heard a rumor. But it could totally be fake. I mean, I didn’t hear it myself or anything.”
“What was it?”
Frankie lets out a big breath. “She announced on her show this morning, supposedly. That she’s a finalist for the Get Up and Go internship.”
“Great. Just great.”
I could throw up.
“I’m sorry. But whatever. They haven’t met you yet! You will blow her away. Come on, let’s go. Anyway, what’s wrong? What was that sad look you had when you came out of school?”
“Sebastian,” I say as I drop into the front seat of her car. I picture DJ Dee walking into the WYN60 building every day. Ugh. I shake my head to clear the image.
“No he didn’t,” she says. “What did he want?”
“I miss you,” I say in a mocking voice. “We were good together. Forgive me.”
“And you said?”
“Screw off? More or less.”
Frankie pats my knee. “Atta girl.”
I call Mom on the way, who assures me Danny is home and had his medicine and seems totally like his normal self. Frankie pulls into her driveway less than five minutes later. We raid the kitchen first and after settling on a bag of spicy Doritos and a huge bottle of water, we head to Frankie’s room. Frankie’s mom does a lot of work at their church and the whole family volunteers at tons of events, so she has lots of cute but professional looking dresses and stuff.
I try to ignore the sick feeling about DJ Big Dee and my conversation with Sebastian as I try on pretty much everything in Frankie’s closet. I end up with a really pretty purple sheath dress that makes Frankie squeal and clap and almost fall off her bed.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect!”
I spin around in front of her full length mirror. I admit it does make me feel pretty confident. “Maybe this dress will be my lucky charm.”
“You don’t need a lucky charm!”
I put a hand on my stomach and look at myself from the side. “You sure I don’t look fat?”
Frankie rolls her eyes. “You, fat? You’re crazy!”
“I ate my weight in ice cream last night.”
“After the fight?”
I’d filled her in about the fight with Mom during first period, but hadn’t gotten to the details yet about meeting Wes at the park.
“I may have met up with a certain new friend who happened to bring me lots of ice cream to cheer me up?” I watch in the mirror as my face turns about three shades of red. Behind me, Frankie’s mouth drops open. I pull the dress over my head quickly and pretend to be completely occupied with changing back into my clothes.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is not the face of a girl who is only friends with a boy.” Frankie rolls onto her back and kicks her legs in the air like she’s riding a bike. “Oh my God, I want details.”
I pull my shirt over my head and smooth a hand over my hair. I grin, knowing I can tease her a little bit more. “I really should get home.”
Frankie jumps off her bed and scoops my flips flops up in her hand. “The hell you’re leaving.”
I drop down on the edge of her bed. I know better than anyone that a determined Frankie is unstoppable.
“Fine.” I cross my arms. “What do you want to know?”
Frankie raises her dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “I want to know whatever that little smile of yours is dying to tell me.”
“What smile?”
“Nuh uh,” she says. “Don’t even try to deny it. Best friends, remember? Now spill.”
I take a deep breath before launching into the story of Wes. I fill her in about all the stuff I haven’t told her yet. It’s not like I was exactly hiding things from her, because I normally tell her everything. I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of stuff with Wes yet. But getting it all out now sends little flutters through me. When I finish the tale of last night’s ice cream cheer up, she smiles.
“He sounds great,” she says.
“He is kinda great. That’s what scares me.”
“What are you guys doing this weekend?”
“No idea.” I motion to her to hand me my shoes. “I’m going to take it slow, though. I don’t know if I’m ready for more guy drama.”
“Why drama? Who says there would be any with Wes? If you ask me, that little smile says you’re more than ready for Jasmine and Wes to be a thing. I think you like him. Like really like him.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, give me my shoes. If you don’t mind, I need to get home. Just because Mom made pancakes doesn’t mean she’s going to make dinner.”
“Right.”
“What?” I laugh.
Frankie snatches her keys and follows me out of her room. “I’m onto you, Torres.”
“Glad to know nothing has changed, then.” I’m still laughing when we get into her car.
18
THE NEEDLE SCRATCHES on the record.
Stepping into the kitchen, the sound is unmistakable. I close the back door behind me. Frankie beeps as she pulls away.
I crash.
The high of the afternoon with Frankie, of last night with Wes…
I hear that stupid needle scratching and see Mom passed out and I just feel like someone has punched me in the face, kicked me in the stomach.
Dropping my backpack by the door, I trudge across the room. After I turn off the record player, I toss the empty bottle of vodka in the garbage.
What did I expect? I’m an idiot, a completely gullible idiot for expecting anything to change.
I go to wake my brother from his afternoon nap. His homework folder is on the kitchen table, his worksheets already complete. Huh. I guess she did something right today.
Whatever.
“Hey Danny,” I say as I knock on his door.
His bed is rumpled and empty, but his feet poke out from his closet alcove, where he usually sets up and plays with his action figures. He slumps over the lot of them, snoring softly. Okay, this is definitely not a normal place to fall asleep. I sink to the floor and watch his steady breathing, wondering. Hoping he didn’t have a seizure.
Danny sleeps a lot. His medicine makes him super tired. But he almost always naps in his bed or even sometimes on the couch. He doesn’t usually fall asleep while playing with his toys, and certainly never sitting in his closet.
Of course there’s no way to know what happened. And no way to know what he was doing or for how long. And considering things seemed off with him this morning…
I should have never gone to Frankie’s.
I pick Danny up. Everything feels normal. Not the limp after-seizure effects. He opens his eyes.
“Hey!” I whisper. “What happened? You fall asleep while playing superheroes?”
He squints at me and looks around his room. He rubs his eyes. “Mom was going to do action figures with me. But I was doing them alone and then I was really tired. We did my math first. Homework sucks. It makes me sleepy.”
“Don’t say sucks,” I say. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach spreads further, making my limbs feel heavy and exhausted. Something about this feels wrong. “Come on, let’s make grilled cheese?”
Danny follows me into the kitchen. I watch him carefully, but he seems okay. He doesn’t even glance toward Mom on the couch. Amazing how normal this all is for him.
“Want to eat outside?” I ask. I don’t want to look at her while we eat. So many emotions are warring in me, the strongest one of all being hurt. I don’t even have any anger left. I just don’t get it. How she can keep doing this and not care? How she can keep putting Danny in such serious danger by not being alert and aware?
I’m running out of options to keep my brother safe.
Danny takes paper plates and a bag of chips outside. He fills water glasses for us and carries napkins.
“Such a big helper!” I say. “I’ll be out in like five minutes with the sandwiches. Go ahead and do swings for a few minutes, okay?”
Danny bounds back outside and I watch him through the window. I slip my phone out of my pocket and call his neurologist. They patch me through to the on call doctor and I explain what I saw with him this morning and then what may have happened tonight. Because of the medication changes, they agree he should come in, at least for a quick, in-office EEG.
Mom is going to flip about the cost, but I make the appointment for the next afternoon. She’ll be at work anyway. I’ll have to find someone to give us a ride.
Danny and I eat dinner on the deck and play more games of UNO than I can count. Mom is still asleep in the same exact position on the couch when I tuck him into his bed that night.
19
“GOD, I’D LOVE to slap Elena. Hard.” Frankie seethes the next morning during chem lab.
“Yep. Me too. She was all apologetic this morning, of course. Remorseful, I’m going to change, blah blah blah. I didn’t even respond. I’m so done with her lies.”
“I feel awful I can’t drive you and Danny though. I promised my mom I’d be at the senior citizen social this afternoon. I can’t back out either or I totally would.”
I nod. It’s understandable. Church functions and volunteering take up a lot of Frankie’s spare time, and she really likes doing that stuff with her family, which is cool.
Family. How do I get a normal one of those?
“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. By the way, did you happen to catch the morning show?”
“Yeah, you were completely awesome. I didn’t even know you were upset until I saw you. You didn’t give any emotions away. You’re totally a pro, Jazz. No doubt.”
Happiness swells in my chest, despite how tired and upset I am today. I really hope she’s right. A few more days and we’ll see if I have what it takes to work at a real station. I stare out the window, daydreaming about going into the city every day. I can see myself, rushing around the broadcast room, helping and contributing to Get Up and Go, riding the train by myself into the huge city as if I belong there. If I get this internship, I will belong there.
Mr. Karns calls me over. I grab my lab pages before I go and pretend like I’m actually a functioning member of Easton High School.
WES MEETS ME at my house right after school.
“I totally owe you huge,” I say as I climb into his car. I buckle Danny into his booster seat in the back. This has the potential to be really weird, bringing my little brother along, booster seat and all. But Wes doesn’t bat an eye.
“I will think of a way to collect on that debt.” He smiles deviously at me and I roll my eyes.
“You really have no shame do you? Even in a situation like this.”
“Aw come on. I’m kidding. Trying to lighten the mood is all. And all’s well with him, I’m sure.”
His optimism buoys me almost as much as the comfort and familiar scent of his car, pine air freshener and that powder-sweet laundry detergent, which reminds me of our hug the other night.
Anyway.
“I actually owe you,” he says. “My mom was making me go to this stupid college fair thing after school. I couldn’t get out of it for anything until you called. Then voilà, like magic, she’s fine with me missing it to come help you.”
“Well, you’re welcome too then,” I say.
“What’s up, little man?” Wes looks at Danny in his rearview. Danny is super excited about riding in Wes’s car and bouncing all over the place in his seat.
“Nothing! I like your car! It’s really nice! Are you my sister’s boyfriend now? Hey Jazzy, what happened to Sebastian? He was your boyfriend, too.”
“Whoa, Dan,” I break in. “Calm down a bit back there, bud.” I give Wes a look that means to smooth over my brother’s outburst, despite the fact that I’m mortified enough to crawl under my seat right now.
Wes laughs as he changes lanes. “So, Danny. Your sister tells me you like superheroes. Who are your favorites? I have a huge collection of comics. I should show you them sometime.”
“Whoa! Really?”
“Yeah, so who do you like? Are you a Marvel or a DC guy?”
“Marvel! Of course. Iron Man is the best! Who likes DC better, anyway?”
“I do have a thing for Batman,” Wes says thoughtfully. “But mostly, yeah, Marvel is definitely better.”
“A thing for Batman?” I snort.
Wes’s eyes cut to me. “Hey there. Watch it. No disrespecting The Caped Crusader.”
“Oh. My. God. Dork alert.”
DANNY PLAYS WITH the toys in Dr. Bee’s waiting room. I watch him carefully, as if through a microscope. Nothing seems too off about him, neurologically speaking, but after the two episodes yesterday, my nerves are stacked like a delicate house of cards. He dumps out a box puzzle on the waiting room floor and walks circles around the pieces, trying to decide where to start.
“Jazzy, look! It’s superheroes!”
“Very cool.” My breath is deep and shaky as I watch him. I just want him to be okay. Cringing, I text Mom to tell her where we are. I get ready for an onslaught of yelling. I didn’t tell her this morning, because I didn’t want her to tell me to cancel because of money.
“So yeah,” Wes says beside me. “Your radio show was kind of awesome this morning. Not going to lie though, I was a little disappointed there was no dedication to me.”
“And what would that dedication be?” I laugh.
“How should I know? You’re the DJ!”
I give him a small smile. “Thanks for driving us,” I say quietly. “I’m sure this is the last place you feel like being.”
“It’s not so bad.”
“Whoa!” Danny yells, moving to the other side of the puzzle. “I think this puzzle has a hundred pieces!”
“See how many you can get before it’s your turn with the doctor,” I answer.
Danny happily goes back to his puzzle, shimmying from one end to the other as he puts the pieces together. He seems completely like himself, I decide, my worry trying to settle. On the television behind him, the news blares about wildfires on the West Coast.
Wes reaches over and takes my hand, cupping my fingers. Not threadin
g them with his or squeezing them or anything, but cupping them, as if we’re holding something delicate and precious in the space between our palms. I look down at them, every fiber and nerve in my body hyper aware. Sitting back in my seat, I tip my head back and close my eyes, leaving my hand in his.
IT TURNS OUT having Wes there is pretty amazing. Danny always has a hard time sitting still when they attach all the electrodes to his head and an even harder time waiting for the one hour test to pass. Wes distracts him by naming each wire on his head for a letter of the alphabet and then searching for superheroes or villains that start with that letter. I’ve never seen Danny so engaged and behaved during an EEG. When the technician turns the lights off and puts a movie on the television for Danny to lie still and watch for the remainder of the test, Wes sits next to me in the small testing room. He takes my hand again.
“Thank you,” I whisper before putting my head on his shoulder and turning toward the television and the opening scenes of Disney’s Aladdin.
What I wouldn’t give for three wishes of my own.
Dr. Bee comes in shortly after the tech is done removing the nodes and cleaning Danny up.
She smiles and asks me for a recap on what happened at home to prompt today’s visit, listening thoughtfully as I tell her. She looks Danny over and tests a few of his vitals before turning to me to talk. I ask if we can step into the hall to discuss the rest. Danny has enough to worry about, especially after overhearing Mom and I argue the other night. He doesn’t need to hear about this stuff.
“Today’s test looks okay,” she says once we’re in the hall. “There’s still a lot of abnormalities, but it’s the way his EEGs normally look. Nothing looks worse, certainly.”
You have to love a trip to the neurologist. Abnormal brain activity that doesn’t look worse is actually good news. Relief washes over me.
“So that’s good, then?”
“As good as it gets right now,” she says. “The new medicine is doing its job. Keep an eye on him, but also try to relax a bit too. He’s in good hands and on good medicine. You know, Jasmine, you’re taking a lot on yourself and it’s really difficult for some people, even some adults, to handle. Where is your mom in all this?”
This Ordinary Life Page 15
