A Little Something Different

by Sandy Hall

  He turns around and looks at my feet. “I don’t know what to say, so what’s the point?”

  “The point is … you like her,” I say. “The point is you talk about her all the time, and you want to be around her. So, figure out your crap and talk to her.”

  “Yeah, because it’s that easy.”

  “All right, what about … if you practice talking to some other girl. Some girl you don’t really like, but who you see around?”

  “I don’t know. Why would I bother?”

  “For practice, dumbass. Do you even listen to me?”

  He gives me a meaningful look.

  “Fine. I know, sometimes you don’t hear, blah, blah, blah. But I’m serious, Gabe, try talking to some other girl. Maybe gain a little confidence.”

  “I don’t have a lot of options,” he says, his face full of thought like he’s moving through a mental Rolodex of females willing to be in his presence.

  “So next time we’re at a party, just talk to someone.”

  “Yeah, that’s not really…”

  “Or what about that other girl in your creative writing class. The one who’s sort of flaky and annoying?”

  “Hillary?”

  “Yeah. Try talking to her.”

  “Huh, you know, that might just work,” he says, nodding. “Between this fairly decent advice and Casey’s whole thing about desensitization, I think you morons are finally starting to earn your keep.”

  “Keep talking like that and I’m going to make you get out and walk.”

  “I’ll tell Mom on you.”

  APRIL

  Hillary (creative writing classmate)

  Gabe and Lea haven’t been talking much lately. Basically since spring break. They were all over each other at the beginning of the semester, but it’s been at least two or three weeks since I’ve seen them giggling and inside-joking and quoting lame, dorky TV shows together. They don’t even sit next to each other anymore. I bet they had a huge fight.

  I know this is my chance to swoop in. Check my hair, check my makeup, put on extra lip gloss, and wait for Inga to stop talking and then make my move. I’ll start simple. Don’t want to scare him away. He’s a little bit skittish.

  “Hey, Gabe,” I say, twirling a piece of hair.

  “Hey,” he says. He watches as Lea leaves without so much as a wave. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, I think, watching her go.

  “What are you up to?”

  “I dunno,” he says, closing his notebook.

  “I was going to go up to the student center to get something to eat.” I like how he’s looking at me, the way he’s watching my lips move so attentively. It’s got be the Berry Bloom Lip Shine. It’s so seductive, not even Gabe can withstand its powers.

  “Oh, okay. I was, um, going up there anyway,” he says.

  “Awesome.” He is the cutest.

  We walk up the stairs and I try to talk to him, but he doesn’t respond. When we get outside, I ask what he’s working on for his final project. But his answer is boring, so I try a new topic.

  “What did you do for spring break?”

  “Nothing. I worked, went down to Atlantic City one night with my brother and our friends.”

  “Sounds terrible,” I say.

  “It was actually kind of fun,” he says.

  “Oh, well, that’s cool. I went to Negril. You should totally go to Jamaica sometime.”

  “It’s not really my speed,” he says.

  I let the topic drop because it’s kind of boring to talk about with someone who doesn’t get it. “Are you graduating next year?” I ask.

  We’re about to walk into the student center now and he’s still totally engrossed with my lips. I wish I could take a second to put on more lip gloss. I feel like it’s fading since I’m talking so much. I’ll have to slip into the bathroom or something.

  “Uh. No. I’m technically still a sophomore, credit-wise. I missed most of my sophomore year because…” I zone out. He’s not a particularly captivating storyteller. I zone back in around the time he says something about losing a baseball scholarship.

  But he doesn’t even offer to pay for my salad. That’s disappointing. He’s cute though, so I’ll let it slide for now.

  Maribel (Lea’s roommate)

  “Lea,” I hiss into my phone.

  “Maribel?”

  “Gabe is at this very moment eating lunch in the student center with Hillary the skank queen of Cockblock-ville!”

  “NO!”

  “YES!”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why is he doing that? There’s no way he likes her. She’s so vapid.”

  “Vapid is such a great word.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Totally.”

  “Okay, what’s happening between them?”

  “Um, hold on, let me see if I can get a little bit closer without being noticed.”

  “Be cool, Mar. We don’t need him seeing you.”

  I stealthily move through the student center food court area, peering between tables and around corners, trying my best not to arouse suspicions. When I find a good vantage point, I’m a little surprised to find that I’m out of breath. I need to start working out.

  “All right, I’m kind of around the corner and now I can peek over there and it looks like she’s talking and he’s not saying anything.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Gabe,” she says, the affection apparent in her voice.

  “He just touched her hand!”

  “What? No!” Lea exclaims. “Not possible. I don’t believe it.”

  “He totally did.”

  “This is terrible, Mar,” she says. “Now what’s happening?”

  “She’s laughing and he’s smiling. They’re both eating, I think. Oh my God, she’s touching his foot with her foot.”

  “Are you sure you’re looking at the right couple?”

  “Yes, I’m not an idiot.”

  “Why do I feel like this? I thought I was trying to get over him.”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly.

  “This is terrible, Maribel. I totally messed up. I can’t believe that I basically let him slip through my fingers.”

  I sigh heavily on Lea’s behalf.

  “Maybe he doesn’t like me. That must be it. I’m sure I’ve been reading all the signals wrong. The only reason he talks to me is so that he can copy my homework or something.”

  “How would he even go about copying your homework for creative writing?”

  “I don’t know. My emotions are spiraling out of control. I never promised I would be logical at a time like this!”

  “Maybe I should go up to them and interrupt and he see how he reacts?”

  “Yes, and keep me on the phone so I can listen in.”

  “This is the true meaning of friendship,” I tell her.

  “Thank you, Maribel. Your kindness and spying will be remembered for many years to come.”

  I hold my phone in my hand, making sure the speaker will face them when I get to the table, without it looking like I’m obviously trying to get the speaker to face them.

  “Hey, Gabe,” I say as I get close.

  “Hey, Maribel,” he says.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Oh, pretty okay,” he says, smiling up at me, innocent as can be. “Do you know Hillary?”

  I look over at her and she smiles the fakest smile the world has ever known.

  “What are you guys up to?”

  “I asked Gabe out for lunch after class today and he said yes,” she says, touching his hand, AGAIN.

  For his part, Gabe looks less than thrilled.

  “Yeah. I was coming here anyway,” he says.

  “I think we should definitely do this again sometime though,” Hillary says.

  I’m starting to feel super weird and Gabe is starting to look a little bit scared.

  “You know, I’m done here,” he says, stand
ing abruptly. “Where are you headed, Maribel?”

  “Um,” I say, raising my eyebrows, trying to decide whether or not to help Gabe out of this situation, but also knowing that I need to get rid of Lea somehow. I hit “end” on my phone and pray that she understands. “I was heading home.”

  He smiles at me and collects his belongings.

  “Cool, I’ll walk out with you. See you,” he says to Hillary.

  “Um,” is all she squeaks out, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Sorry about that,” he says to me as we leave the student center. “I couldn’t hang out with her for even like ten more seconds.”

  “It’s fine, I don’t mind being used.”

  He smiles. “Is Lea with you?”

  “She’s at home.”

  He nods. “Well, I’m off to work, but thanks for helping me out of that one.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” I say. “Anytime.”

  I watch him walk away and find that I have four missed calls from Lea. It’s a good thing I had my phone on silent or that could have been highly suspicious. I call her back.

  “How did you have time to call me four times in the past three minutes?”

  “What is going on? I can’t handle this!”

  “It’s all good, babycakes,” I tell her. “He used my presence to get away from the skank queen. And now he’s gone to work.”

  “I still don’t like it,” she says.

  “I swear to you, it’s okay.”

  “Okay, cool, thanks.”

  “He asked about you again,” I tell her.

  “Interesting,” she says.

  “It is, right?”

  “Interesting how he’s always asking about me behind my back and then not talking to me in front of my face. And then going out on dates with Hillary.”

  “This doesn’t really seem like you, to get this angry.”

  She sighs. “I know, I know. I’m upset about being upset. I’m tired of going around in circles like this. And I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed about what? You haven’t done anything to be embarrassed about. You like a boy, it happens,” I say.

  “I think I just need to focus on getting over him. I’m not built for this emotional roller coaster.”

  “I get it. I’ll do whatever I can to help. We’ll do some type of program. Getting over Gabe in twelve easy steps.”

  “Thanks, Maribel. You’re awesome.”

  “I know. I’ll be home soon.”

  “I’ll start working on the rehab program.”

  Charlotte (a barista)

  “Lea’s here,” I whisper to Keith as she wanders in.

  “Oh, yay!” he says. “I haven’t seen her in so long.”

  She goes through the line quickly, ordering an iced mocha and then taking her usual seat in the corner near the window. And within minutes, Gabe appears. He has great timing.

  “It’s like he stalks her,” I mutter to Keith.

  “Seriously. His timing is uncanny.”

  Gabe steps through the door, obviously looking around for Lea. He sees her, but she doesn’t immediately see him. She’s got earbuds in, so it stands to reason that she’s totally zoned out.

  Gabe comes through the line, ordering his usual grande coffee, room for milk.

  “Pike Place,” he adds with a smile before I can even offer the options.

  “You seem chipper today,” I say. I don’t mean to say it, I really don’t. I just can’t help myself anymore.

  He smiles shyly. “Things are looking up,” he says with a shrug.

  They’re nice people, albeit misguided and obviously having issues getting a normal relationship off the ground. But compared to a lot of other people who frequent this establishment, they’re courteous and sweet.

  So much better than the people who take their coffee orders far too personally, who have deep-seated emotional issues about how many pumps of mocha they get.

  Not to mention how nice Gabe was to me when I told him about my broken foot. And his confession about his car accident made me like him even more. Because he didn’t have to share; he wanted to.

  I hand him his coffee and he goes over to put milk and sugar in. The whole time he’s watching Lea. He swallows heavily a bunch of times in a row and then he touches his ear. I guess he can feel me looking at him because he turns around and smiles at me. I give him a thumbs-up.

  “Keith,” I say. “I think something’s about to happen.”

  Keith looks up from where he’s preparing a chai latte and into the corner. I have the distinct urge to turn the elevator music down, but I have to keep helping customers. I almost tell this one old lady to shut her trap so I can hear what’s happening.

  He walks over to Lea’s table and she doesn’t notice him because she’s still got her earbuds in. He touches her shoulder and she looks up.

  “Miss?” the guy at the front of the line says. I shush him. I just need two seconds to hear what’s going to happen over there. Keith stops steaming milk and I swear even the Starbucks sound system holds its breath.

  I think he says hi to her, and she says hi back. He gestures toward the chair opposite her and she makes what I read as a hand motion of surrender rather than of welcoming. That doesn’t bode well.

  “It’s all yours,” I hear her say. Her voice is loud, tinged with too much emotion for such a benign request from Gabe. Then she closes up her books, shoves them in her bag, and leaves. Gabe is obviously stunned.

  I look over at Keith, who looks almost as sad as I feel.

  “All right, what do you want?” I ask the old man.

  “Some service!” he says indignantly.

  I give the man his coffee and then signal to Keith that I’m going over to talk to Gabe. There’s no one in line at the moment and hopefully it’ll stay that way while I’m gone. I honestly can’t believe I’m getting involved in this, but he looks so sad, I feel like I have to at least ask him if he’s okay.

  I approach his table, grabbing for a rag so I can pretend to be wiping down the tables around it. “You okay?” I ask when he sees me looking at him.

  “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

  “Maybe you waited too long?”

  He chews his fingernail and nods at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say sincerely.

  “Thank you. I’m going to sit here and pick up the pieces of my crushed ego.”

  “Would a piece of free cheesecake help?”

  “Free cheesecake could probably help almost anything.”

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  I hate myself for getting involved. And for saying the word “jiffy.”

  Sam (Gabe’s brother)

  Gabe and Bailey show up several hours before the party will even start.

  “Food, liquor run,” Gabe says by way of greeting.

  “Lovely to see you, too,” I say back.

  “Gabe’s in a pissy mood,” Bailey tells me. “Don’t mind him.”

  “What’s up?” I ask, turning toward him.

  “I’m not pissy, I’m confused and kind of sad,” he says to Bailey, but completely ignores my question.

  “What’s up with Gabe?” I ask Bailey.

  “Come on,” he says. “I’ll tell you about it while we go find food and booze.”

  “Lemme go find Casey. I think he’s driving.”

  The four of us pile into my car, Gabe pouting in the backseat, while we go through the McDonald’s drive-through. Bailey fills us in on everything that’s been going on. Casey parks and I start handing out food.

  “So, Gabe-o decided that he should be the one to tell Lea about the party tonight. But he balked every time he saw her this week and totally chickened out.”

  “I wasn’t chickening out,” he grumbles. “I didn’t want to mention it in class in front of Hillary, and well, fine, the other time I saw her I chickened out. But she was with that guy again!”

  “Fine. He chickened out once. Then he saw her at Starbucks yesterday
and worked up his nerve and did a little dance and all the baristas were cheering him on—”

  “You’re totally telling this story wrong,” Gabe says.

  “Fine,” Bailey says. “You tell it.”

  Gabe takes a huge bite of his Big Mac and then slides forward. “There are these baristas and I see them all the time, and they’re usually pretty nice, except for the one who can be kind of bitchy sometimes, but even she was being nice yesterday. She said I was chipper. And I was chipper. It was warm out and I got an A on my paper for Foreign Policy and I went to Starbucks hoping to see Lea and she was magically there.”

  “Okay,” I say. Casey nods along.

  “I walked up to her and she had her earbuds in so I tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at me and pulled them out. And I said hi, and she said hi.”

  “So far this sounds okay.”

  “Yeah, and then I asked if I could sit down at her table and she said it was ‘all mine’ and then she got up and left.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” he responds.

  “That doesn’t sound like Lea.”

  “I know. But the sometimes-bitchy barista, Charlotte, felt so bad for me that she gave me a free piece of cheesecake.”

  “Score.”

  “Silver lining,” he says with a shrug.

  “What are you gonna do?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” he says.

  “You do seem awfully chipper for someone who basically got rejected by the girl he likes yesterday. I mean, aside from the obvious grumbliness earlier.”

  “Oh, well. I got my hearing aid.” He turns to show me his ear.

  “Oh, yeah, Mom told me,” I say.

  Then Gabe turns to show the other guys.

  “Basically invisible,” Bailey says.

  “I don’t see anything,” Casey says, squinting.

  Gabe takes the tiny piece of plastic out of his ear and we ooh and ahh over it.

  “They mailed it to me after the fitting last week. It just came in today.” He slips it back into his ear. “I still kind of hate talking about it, but being able to hear has really improved my mood.”

  “Yeah, that’s not exactly a shocker,” I say.

  “Hey, man, if I want to sit around and wallow for a year and a half about my hearing that’s my prerogative,” he says, but he’s smiling.