“Eliza’s here,” I said.
“Oh really?” he said, unsuccessfully feigning surprise. “I didn’t know she was working today.”
“Yeah, well she is. She said she’s off in fifteen minutes. And she’s super hot. Temperature-wise. And looks-wise too. Don’t you think?”
Gavin rolled his eyes at me.
“I think she needs to cool down. Maybe you do too. I’ll take you guys to Ben & Jerry’s, if you want. What do you think?”
“Shut up,” he said, and I saw his neck get a little pink again.
“I want ice cream,” I said. “Don’t worry, I won’t tease you guys. See if she wants to come.”
He glared at me, but he went to the front counter, empty-handed.
I grabbed one of those semi-electric razors and shaving cream with aloe and followed him.
“Oh, hey, Eliza,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know you were working today.”
“Gavin,” she said. “Why didn’t you call me back yesterday? I had to go to that stupid art show with my mom all alone. You totally screwed me.”
“I, um, I … I got really into my writing, and I …”
Oh man, Gavin was so out of his league. At fourteen, Eliza was already too much woman for him.
“I’m just messing with you, G,” she said.
“Um,” he said. “When do you finish here? We’re going to Ben & Jerry’s if you want to come.”
“Hell yeah,” she said, looking at the clock. “Close enough.”
She rang up our shaving paraphernalia and handed me the bag.
“I gotta just tell boss lady I’m going,” she said, untying her apron. “Be right back.”
I raised my eyebrows at Gavin. He was in big, big trouble. It was all over his face.
At Ben & Jerry’s, I pretended to get a text so I could let Gavin and Eliza hang, but also so I could be alone with my thoughts. Sebastian. He was a constant buzz in my head. I was functioning with only half a brain. The other half was like this: Sebastian, Sebastian, big lips, brown eyes. Sebastian, raspy voice. Sebastian, addict, vulnerable, needs me.
What was I doing? Fantasizing about a guy in a mental institution? There were so many things wrong with that. Not to mention, the whole I-had-a-boyfriend thing.
I called Darren.
He picked up, and I heard the baby screaming in the background.
“Hi, it’s Macy.”
“Avery hasn’t stopped talking about you. Did you put some kind of love potion in her apple juice? Ben! Oh shit, sorry. This baby is the devil. Damn, I shouldn’t have said that to you. Really, he’s an angel. I swear. It’s just with me. He likes to torture me when he knows I have work to do…. Forget everything I just said. You still think you can babysit?”
“Sure,” I said. How devilish could a baby be?
“Excellent. Can you do one o’clock Friday?”
“No problem,” I said.
We hung up. Two jobs. Obsessed with a depressed institutionalized addict. And because I was confused about who I was for a minute, I texted Chris.
ME: Workin hard?
CHRIS: Yeah. But thinking bout u.
ME: U 2.
CHRIS: Can u hang tmw nite?
ME: Sure.
Okay. I was Macy Lyons, loved by a handsome boy who wanted to have sex with me.
Back inside Ben & Jerry’s, Gavin and Eliza were at a table—Eliza sucking on a straw from her chocolate milkshake, Gavin eating Cherry Garcia with a spoon. I recognized the look in poor Gavin’s eyes, which were trying desperately to keep in contact with Eliza’s but couldn’t. He was in lust, maybe even in love. He was probably afraid that if he looked her in the eye, she’d know how he felt. And Eliza was oblivious. All chitchat and banter and sarcastic laughter. The table was covered in splotches of old ice cream and pieces of napkin, but they didn’t seem to notice or care. I ordered myself a chocolate peanut butter on a waffle cone and sat down with them. I stared at Gavin’s mustache. What was I thinking? Would I even know how to tell him what to do with that thing?
My phone rang. I pulled it out of my shorts pocket. Dad.
I went out to the parking lot again.
“Hi, Dad,” I said as I chewed on a frozen chunk of peanut butter.
“Hi, Mace.” He sounded far away, but his voice immediately made me feel better, calmer.
“Are you back in town?”
“No, I’m still in Chicago,” he said. “How you doing?”
“Okay, I guess. You coming home tonight?”
“No, hon. I’ve got to go to Miami tonight for the rest of the week.”
“Oh. It’s just that you’re totally MIA, Dad.” I was whining now. I couldn’t help it. “You missed vacation breakfast.”
“I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I feel horrible about that.” He cleared his throat. “You finish up school okay?”
“Yeah.” What was I supposed to say? I spent the morning of my last day in a psychiatric ward waiting room?
“You guys okay?”
“I don’t know. Mom’s … well, Mom’s acting like Mom. Um, Gavin needs to shave, and I don’t know what the hell to do.”
“Oh boy. I knew that day was coming soon. Can he hold out ’til the weekend maybe?”
“No, Dad, he looks like a skeletal gorilla.”
He laughed. “Well, then, you can supervise. It’s easy. Just tell him to be careful around that upper lip area.”
“Dad?” I wanted to tell him about Sebastian, that I was all jumbled up inside and I didn’t know which way was up. But I’d never talked to Dad about anything guy-related really—not even Chris—and right now, while he was away and distracted by work, wasn’t the right time to start.
“Hmmm?” he said.
“Nothing.”
“Okay, well, I have to go. Tell Mom I called.”
“You haven’t talked to Mom?”
“My meeting’s about to start. Tell her I’ll e-mail my itinerary when I can. I have to go. I love you, sweetie. Say hi to Gav.” And then he hung up.
I went back inside. Gavin looked up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. That was Dad. He says hi.”
“Why didn’t you let me talk?”
“He had to go. He said he’d be home this weekend.”
“Is your dad away again?” Eliza asked, noticing Gavin’s sad face and looking at him curiously.
“Yeah,” Gavin said.
“Are you guys done?” I asked, eyeing their empty cups. “Let’s go.” I took one last bite of my ice cream and threw the rest in the trash.
“Hey,” Gavin yelled. “I would have eaten that!”
“Sorry. Would you like me to retrieve it for you, Oscar?”
He gave me the finger.
“Nice,” I said. “You’re so welcome for the ice cream.”
When we got back in the car, Eliza must have sensed the change in Gavin because she stayed quiet. He didn’t say a word or look at her.
“Talk to you later, G?” she said, opening the car door when we reached her house.
He nodded and watched her walk away.
“You could have at least said good-bye,” I said as I started driving.
He smacked his forehead. “I’m such a moron.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just Eliza.” I punched him on the shoulder, hoping to lighten the mood, but he just stared straight ahead.
We pulled into the garage. Mom’s car was there. A wave of dread washed over me.
“I’ll meet you in your bathroom,” I said. “Start running the hot water.” I shoved the bag with the shaving stuff at him.
I went looking for Mom. I hoped she wouldn’t be in the mood to kill the messenger because my message would sting.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I heard Mom’s voice in the study.
“Hi, Rob. Call me as soon as you can,” she said. “I promised Harry I’d send him the tax forms tomorrow but I can’t find them.”
I stood o
utside the study door. Why would Dad call me and not her? Maybe something was going on in their marriage. I waited another few seconds before entering so she wouldn’t know I’d heard her. She looked so small sitting in Dad’s giant desk chair. There were papers and envelopes strewn across the normally spotless desk. Mom had the mouse in her hand and was frantically clicking away.
“Hi, Mom.” She straightened up quickly. Her hair was coming out of its ponytail. She was chewing on a pencil—hard—I could see the teeth marks from where I was standing.
“Hi,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“Not much.”
Mom took a deep breath as though trying to reorient herself. I wished I could just turn around and walk away. Mom didn’t look like her usually bitchy self, so I wasn’t inspired to upset her.
“Did you talk to Darren?” she asked. “Are you going to babysit for the kids?”
“Yeah.”
“You were so cute at that age. I know you won’t believe this, but you wore a purple tutu to camp every day. You refused to take it off, even to go in the pool. Finally, this sweet counselor—oh, what was her name? Melissa, I think. Or was it Marissa? Anyway, the last day of camp she convinced you to take it off. I can’t remember the story she told you—something about a princess needing to save a unicorn or something. Whatever it was, it worked.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not so into princesses or unicorns these days, Mom. Or pools.”
Mom put her pencil down and sighed. She pressed a finger in each of her temples.
“Anyway,” I said. “I got a call from Dad. He’s going to Miami tonight. He’ll send you the itinerary.”
“Oh,” she said, fake cheerfulness in her voice. “When did he call?”
“About half an hour ago.”
Mom’s eyes watered. And then I felt a little sorry for her.
She cleared her throat and started in on the mouse-clicking again.
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said.
I went up to Gavin’s room. He was lying on his bed reading an Iron Man comic. I heard the water running in his bathroom.
“You ready?”
“Whatever,” he said.
“You’re all bent about Eliza?” I said. “Just call her later and it’ll be cool. Come on. Let’s do this thing.”
I opened up the fancy new razor and put a washcloth under the hot water. Gavin didn’t move from his bed.
“Gavin. It’s now or never. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Whatever,” he said. “Why do you think you can help me shave? You’re a girl.”
“Don’t be a loser, Gavin. It’s not going to hurt.”
“Fine,” he moped, entering the bathroom.
Damn, he was tall.
“Hold on,” I said.
I got a chair from his room and brought it into the bathroom.
“Sit,” I said.
He sighed heavily like it was a great hardship, but he obeyed.
I took the hot washcloth and pressed it against his dark peachy-fuzz mustache and the first inklings of a beard.
“Ow!” he yelled. “That’s too hot!”
“Man up. You have to soften your skin before you shave. It gets the pores all ready.” His eyes teared up, but I kept the washcloth pressed to him.
I started foaming the shaving cream into my hand. Just as I was about to spread it on his face, he grabbed my wrist.
“I’m not a baby,” he said. “I can do this myself.” His eyes were intense. Angry. Poor Gavin.
“Suit yourself,” I said. I smeared the foam onto his outstretched hand, and he spread it all over his face.
“Am I doing the whole thing or just the mustache?” he asked.
“You’re the man. Apparently, I’m no help.”
He picked up the razor, checking it out, then he clicked on the buzzy part and seemed impressed. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures of him all lathered up.
“For Dad,” I said.
“Okay, here goes,” he said and scraped the razor along the right side of his face. Then he rinsed the razor in the running water and tapped it on the edge of the sink, just like Dad. Just like Scott. Tap tap tap.
I heard the tap tap tap of Scott’s razor against the sink as I walked by his room.
“Macy, is that you?” he called out.
“Yeah.”
“Come in, talk to me while I shave,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, coming into his room. I stood at the door to his bathroom. He wore a white towel around his waist and his face had white shaving cream on one side.
I shivered. I looked in the mirror and shut the memory down, blinked it away, though it was taking more effort than usual.
“I don’t know about this part,” Gavin said. The razor hovered above his lip. He’d finished both sides of his face.
“You want me to do it?” I asked Gavin.
“No, I can.”
“Dad said to be careful above the lip.”
“Great, thanks, Dad,” he said.
He took a deep breath and started shaving, making little strokes and then getting bolder. We were both concentrating very hard. I was shadowing my hand along his. I couldn’t help myself. It reminded me of when I saw Aunt Carrie feeding my cousin Dylan when he was a baby. Aunt Carrie would open her mouth every time she put the spoon in Dylan’s mouth. It was this weird instinct thing. I wished Gavin would’ve let me do it. I would have been so gentle and careful with him.
“Yo yo! What up!” Eliza’s shrieky voice came from Gavin’s room.
We both gasped, startled. Eliza bounced into the bathroom, looked at Gavin, half-shaven, me with my hand hovering over his, and then she burst out laughing.
“Ow,” Gavin said.
“I just couldn’t miss out on this ceremonious occasion. I rode my bike right over, and when your mom said you were upstairs, I was scared I missed it all! I know you didn’t invite me, G, but screw you. Oh my god! Is that blood?” Eliza suddenly looked pale.
A thin line of blood trickled down the side of Gavin’s lip to his chin.
“Shit!” he yelled. “Shit shit shit!”
“Ohhh,” said Eliza. “I gotta lie down.”
She disappeared into Gavin’s room.
I grabbed a handful of toilet paper and pressed it against Gavin’s lip and chin. He looked near tears.
“It’s okay, Gav,” I said. “This happens all the time.”
I peered under the toilet paper. It wasn’t too bad once the blood was cleaned off—just a small nick.
He allowed me to finish the rest of the mustache for him. I was good at it. And, despite the piece of toilet paper I’d stuck to the cut, he looked pretty smooth. Quite handsome for a robot-loving skinny-ass man-child, in fact.
We found Eliza lying on Gavin’s bed, her arm slung over her eyes dramatically.
“I’m sorry, G,” she said, when she heard us coming. “I can’t stand the sight of blood. Was that my fault? I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I don’t know, you seemed so bummed, and I came by to cheer you up. I brought you gummy worms. See? They’re over there.” She pointed at his desk.
“Thanks. That was really nice of you.”
Gavin sat down on the edge of the bed, far away from Eliza. I gestured for him to move closer and gave him the thumbs up.
Eliza sat up slightly, leaning on her elbows, checking him out.
“Nice,” she said. She touched his face. “Smooth.” She touched the little piece of toilet paper on the side of his lower lip. “Ouchy.”
My exit cue. Fourteen-year-old geek budding romance would suffer with an audience.
CHAPTER NINE
On Tuesday afternoon I sat on my bed with Sebastian’s letter on my lap. The letter was wrinkled from all the times I’d opened it and folded it back up, but I’d tried to keep the drawings as smooth as possible. It had been two days since I’d visited him in the psych ward. I knew I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Rebecca was right.
Maybe I should just walk away. And besides, he hadn’t asked me to come back. Maybe he didn’t want me to. But I kept thinking about what he’d said—that if he’d gotten a ride with me that night, he wouldn’t have felt so alone. Maybe I wouldn’t have either.
The doorbell rang. I shoved the letter in my desk drawer and ran downstairs. I opened the front door to Chris.
“Hey,” I said.
He was still dressed in his work clothes—khakis and a blue button-down shirt. “Sorry I didn’t check before coming over. I know you hate that. But my phone died on me.”
“No problem,” I said. In fact, I was relieved to have the distraction.
“Should we see a movie tonight?” he asked. “There’s the new Leo one. It got pretty good reviews, I think.”
“I can’t. My presence is required for dinner. Scott’s coming over with Yoli.”
“She’s the hot smart one?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe I should stay and check her out,” he said.
“Sure,” I said, realizing that having Chris by my side when Scott was around might help. I hadn’t seen Scott for a few weeks, and if anyone could make things seem normal, it would be Chris. Even though Scott had tortured Chris throughout our childhood with chubster jokes, they got along pretty well now.
Chris followed me into the kitchen. The counter was overflowing with grocery bags. I opened the refrigerator to get us some chocolate milk.
Mom came sweeping in with more bags on both arms.
Her face was flushed.
“Hi, kids. Can you get the rest of the bags from my car?”
Chris hopped up and ran out to do her bidding. I reluctantly started emptying the bags, which she’d put on the kitchen island.
“Can Chris stay for dinner, Mom?”
“Of course,” she said with her fake smile. Mom thought I was settling with Chris, that he was too comfortable. And I had to give it to her—the whole “boy next door” thing was pretty nauseating. But he was handsome and polite, so she liked him.
Chris came in with the rest of the bags. It looked like we were cooking for the president. Mom had clearly gone to at least five different markets to get what she needed—fish, organic vegetables, dessert. Dad wasn’t even expected home. This was all for Scott and Yoli.
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