by Unknown
“I’m still hashing out schedules. As soon as I have a few dates, I’ll give you a call,” she replies as she puts her purse on her shoulder. He rises and walks us out, patting me on the back as we exit.
“Hang in there, kid,” he whispers, squeezing my shoulder.
We walk back to the car in silence. I feel the storm brewing in my mother. She unlocks the car, and we get in and sit while it warms up. She turns on the windshield wipers, and they knock the snow off the windshield. She blows in her hands and stares straight ahead. I can’t take it anymore.
“Say something,” I gently demand.
“I don’t know what you want me to say; I don’t know what to say.” Then she looks me in the eyes and says, “I don’t know you.” That cuts me. Her eyes are cold and gray. She looks empty.
“I’m still me. Despite everything that has happened. I’m not the same, but I’m a part of you; you do know me,” I say, clutching my heart.
“No, I really don’t.” She laughs bitterly before she continues, “I don’t know anyone. Everyone lies and hides secrets. Who do I know to trust? Damn it, Lana; you were smoking? Are you and Tomas having sex?”
“No, Mom, no. You have to believe me. Both Tomas and I have beliefs about that. You know I was tortured last year. I’m not going to do anything for a long time.” I realize that I want to be ready to go that far before I actually go that far. Fifteen is not ready. My hands are clammy, and she finally puts the car in drive and pulls through the space ahead of us.
“Are you keeping any other secrets?” She glances at me quickly before she returns her gaze to the highway. I look away before I answer her because I can’t lie to her face.
“No, Mom.” She shakes her head and sniffs. “Please don’t cry,” I plead, reaching across and touching her arm.
“You’re grounded.” It’s the last thing she tells me as we make the long trek home.
Lacey
Lana and I spend a miserable January in solitary confinement. Mom took us to the gynecologist and put us both on birth control. It was humiliating, sitting on that crunchy paper sheet. Even though Lana has sworn off sex, though she and Tomas make out regularly, and Chase and I hadn’t even discussed that yet, she insisted she wasn’t going to be raising our children since we were still children and had “no use of any good sense.” Sometime my mother’s country side shines through. Chase and I only saw each other, besides in between classes, when we skipped class occasionally to make out at the bottom of the stairs by the locked basement door. But the month was so miserable I don’t want to go into too many details. Let’s just say that books were read and re-read, longhand letters with pages of details about our isolation were written to our friends, and sisterly bonding led to wacky makeovers with blue eye shadow and crimped hair. We followed in our mother’s footsteps by locking ourselves in our rooms occasionally, too. Britt made an appearance a few days after her arrest and had a long talk with my mom. They both cried a little, and I was surprised that Mom was so forgiving of her. Despite that, not only is she on probation with the city of Plainfield after settling for community service, but also with our parents. Lana is on restricted visitation with her and isn’t allowed to hang out with her at her house. I guess she’s in therapy with Dr. Mase, too. Lana said he was instrumental in Britt’s release and probation deal. I’m proud of Lana; she could have kept all of it to herself and stayed out of trouble or turned her back on Britt, but she didn’t. She was a true friend. She is a true friend.
Once we’re ungrounded, we race to enjoy our freedom. I’m surprised when I arrive at Jade’s after school on my birthday for our first sleepover in a month to find twenty people jumping out from behind the furniture yelling surprise in my face. The band is here, Chase, my friends, Paul, Tasha’s boyfriend, Lana and her friends, my parents, Jade’s mom, and to my astonishment, Stacey, Byron, Bea, and Henry. Everyone looks happy to see me and be there except for Henry. I wonder why he even bothered. I am overwhelmed by the chatter and attention. Chase steps forward and squeezes me into a tight hug. As much as I want to swallow his face since I’m finally free, we refrain from any form of PDA.
“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers, and I smile, breathing him in.
“Whose Idea was this?” I ask after he lets me go, and I look around in amazement. Streamers are everywhere, and a sheet cake centered on the dining room table is surrounded by presents.
“Mine,” Tasha, Jade, Lana, and Chase all say at the same time. Everyone erupts into laughter. Mom’s is a tense laughter while Dad’s is distracted. I wonder if they are simply guests to this party or were involved in planning it also. They still haven’t given my phone or ipad back yet. I’m a little annoyed that they are acting like it’s no big deal.
“Well, thanks, everyone, this is. . .wow,” I say.
After the initial excitement of my arrival, everyone disperses into their little cliques and divide the room. Chase and I go from one group to the other thanking everyone for coming. Finally, I reach Byron and his friends.
“Hey guys,” I smile. “Thanks for coming.”
“Tasha invited us; I’m so glad we could make it,” Stacey beams.
“Were you surprised?” Byron chimes in.
“Totally, wasn’t expecting it,” I laugh. Chase squeezes my hand to signal he’s ready to move on, but his face is a mask to his discomfort. He smiles sweetly beside me. He should go into acting.
“You should have seen your face,” Byron mimics my expression, exaggerating dramatically. I hope anyway. “Classic, wish I had been recording it.”
“Thank goodness you weren’t.” I shake my head. When Tasha calls me over to cut the cake and everyone sings happy birthday to me, my face matches my burgundy dress. I open birthday cards full of gift cards, a box with a blouse from Tasha, a scarf to match my hat and gloves from Lana (I love her knitting projects), and a sparkly, diamond, white gold, tennis bracelet from Chase. The final box is from my mom and dad. It’s beautifully wrapped. I open it to find my phone and iPad.
“Ha-ha,” I say dryly as I pull out my things. But underneath them are two tickets for Saftysuit when they come to Indianapolis at the end of the July this summer. It’s like so many months away, but that’s Chase’s and my favorite, all-time band. I look up at them, and they are smiling at me. Mom comes in for a hug, and I hug her back.
“You’ve taken your punishment well,” she whispers as she squeezes me. After the presents, my parents leave, and Jade’s mom decides to “give us some space,” as she puts it. We are just sitting around when Stain pulls out a flask. Chase rolls his eyes at me, and we rise to go to the kitchen to escape any temptation he may feel. I lean against the counter and admire my bracelet while he keeps looking toward the family room where they are passing around the alcohol.
“A girl could get used to this,” I say with a flirty voice.
“What’s that?” he asks, as he turns toward me and places his hands on my hips.
“First my beautiful locket, then this tennis bracelet; Chase, it’s too much, all of it; I’m the luckiest girl. What did I do to earn you?” I drape my arms around his shoulders, and he smiles a shy, unsure smile. I love this side of Chase; it could be my favorite part about him, when his emotions are raw and pure.
“I could say the same thing,” he whispers as he leans his forehead against mine.
“Chase did you bring the ukulele?” A.J. asks, leaning into the doorway unaware he’s interrupting us. I didn’t think everyone in the band would like it so much, but am glad that they do.
“It’s in my car, why?” Chase asks, not looking at him.
“Paul wants to hear that hook Thax was working on last weekend.”
“I’ll be right back,” Chase says as he kisses my nose. I giggle and let go of him.
“Sorry to interrupt Lacey,” A.J. says, almost as an apologetic afterthought. But his whole demeanor changes as he lumbers out of the doorway and jumps on Chase’s back, pulling him into a headlock. Boys. I don’t rea
lly feel like going back into the family room just yet, so I begin picking up paper plates and throwing them away. I pour myself another soda and push up to sit on the counter. I turn on the radio under the cabinet and find the progressive rock station. I close my eyes and hum the song as my feet dangle and kick back and forth. When it ends, I open my eyes and jump because Henry is leaning against the refrigerator watching me. Neither of us says anything; we just look at each other for a moment.
“Sorry I crashed your party,” he says shoving his hands in his pockets. His T-shirt says, “I can’t hear you over my awesomeness,” and I can’t help but smirk at him. It’s been awhile since he’s worn any of his trademark graphic T’s. I shrug. “I guess I owe you a few apologies,” he sighs as he looks down at his feet.
“I deserved your treatment, I guess. It was wrong what I did. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You were just always too cool for me, even as just a friend. I was kind of hopeless back then.” I say it like it was a decade ago because right now that’s how long ago it feels.
“Not anymore, huh?” He looks at me. I don’t know what my face conveys because his gaze focuses out the kitchen window over the sink. “Well, I think I’m done sulking. I’m just making myself feel worse, and we all make mistakes, so I’m sorry, and I’ll be cool from now on. I guess I have to accept that you’re a part of my friends’ lives.” That last statement stings a little and rubs me the wrong way.
“Don’t put yourself out or anything. I don’t need anyone’s pity.” I jump down and scowl at him. He rubs the back of his neck and smiles at me with that smile. The one that used to make me melt, the smile he saved for pretty girls, the smile that always let him get his way. It’s a strange feeling not to have butterflies in my stomach when he smiles at me.
“Just accept my apology, and ignore everything else I say,” he says, still smiling and taking a few steps closer. “I mean it, even when I stick my foot in my mouth.” I cross my arms and only nod. “Truce?” He holds out his hand, and I look at it before I shake it.
“Truce.” I give in.
“Cool,” he says. “I’m going back to the family room.” I just look at him and wonder who he really is. I never knew him. As much as I thought I did, I didn’t. “Happy birthday, Lacey,” he says, as he backs away from me and finally turns into the hall and disappears. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and go to the entry hall, bundle up in my hat and scarf and coat, and before I grab my purse. Chase and A.J. are coming back in as I’m about to go out to look for Chase.
“What’s wrong? Are you OK?” Chase asks, instantly reading my body language. I grab his hand and drag him after me toward the street. I unlock my car, and we climb in. I start it and cold air blows on us.
“Jeez, Lacey, it’s freezing,” Chase says after ten minutes of warming up the car. I lean my elbow against the window and grin at him.
“Wuss,” I tease.
“Bring this thing to the shop tomorrow.” He looks at me meaningfully. He scoots across the bench seat and pulls me into his embrace. His breath is hot against me, and my lips find his instantly. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers in my ear as he helps my hat fall off my head. He runs his hand through my hair, gripping it. He unbuttons my coat while I hold his face in my hands. I push his coat off his shoulders, and he shrugs it the rest of the way. “We don’t need this,” he says as he un-knots my scarf and slides it from my neck and drops it on the floor.
“I love you, Chase,” I whisper as his hands creep up my bare thighs under my dress. He leans away from me and pulls his shirt off by the back of the neck, and I can’t stop thinking how sexy he is. I slide out of my coat as I watch him. His arms are defined, not skinny, not bulky, just muscular enough to show that he’s strong. His shoulders are smooth to my touch as I trace my fingers up his arms. His skin goose-bumps, but I’m not sure if it’s from my touch or the cold. He buries his face in my chest.
“I’m ready,” he whispers. My entire body goes rigid. What is he saying? He glances up at me and I just stare at him wide-eyed.
“Ready?” I ask, because I don’t know what else to say. I mean, I know what he’s talking about.
“Ready, to you know,” I can see his blush as he stammers, even with just the street light glowing through my steamy windows. “Make love to you,” he says faltering a little.
“Chase, I don’t want to lose my virginity on my birthday in my car parked in Jade’s driveway,” I say, a tad bit annoyed. I thought he’d done stuff; I thought we could build up to that, not go from kissing to doing it, especially not when there’s a house full of teenagers that can discover us at any moment.
“How do you want to lose it?” he asks as he ignores my annoyance and pulls my fingers up to his mouth to kiss them.
“I want it to be special, no pressure, no risk of getting caught. I want it to be with you in a secluded place where we don’t have to rush, where we can make love and not just do it,” I say as I brush his hair away from his forehead, and he lays his cheek against my chest. “This is the most important gift we can give each other, and I want it to mean something. When we look back fifty years from now, I want us to be able to sit in our rocking chairs, hold hands, and know we love each other even then because we cared to make it beautiful.” I feel him smile against my heart.
“OK. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.” He raises up and kisses me. “For the record, I’m not going to be sitting in a rocking chair in fifty years, maybe eighty. In fifty years we’ll be on my reunion tour with the guys.” He leans away smiling at me. I like that he feeds into my fantasies. Maybe they are his too.
Lana
Lacey and Chase have disappeared. Everyone else sits around the family room just talking about, really, nothing. That flask is inching closer to our corner. Tomas is my designated driver, but there’s no way I’m going home smelling like liquor after just making probation. I’m worried about Britt, though. She’s fidgeted all night. She’s not really comfortable around these “populars”. Macy and Danni seem to be doing their best to engage her and make her comfortable. I’m really impressed with the sincerity of their efforts. As I get lost in my head, I realize Evan is teasing Thax about his ukulele skills. Thax swears he’s written the hook to their next “big hit” as he plays the air ukulele. It’s not a cool look, but it is funny. Henry rises awkwardly and asks for the bathroom. Henry’s weird these days, not that I knew too much how he was before. I used to eavesdrop on Lacey, Tasha, and Jade when they talked about boys at sleepovers. I didn’t think that I would learn anything; I was just nosey, always looking for leverage. Britt takes the flask and splashes a little of the alcohol in her soda. The rest of us pass. She hands it back to Stain, and they share a look. Stain looks like he’d be her type. He always wears black clothes and chains at his belt loops. But Britt is with Todd now, so when she looks at me afterward, I give her my “relax” expression, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing that hook,” Paul says, his arm draped around Tasha. A.J. jumps up and literally runs out of the room. While he’s gone people drink, talk, laugh. This party is low-key and feels right. After about fifteen minutes, A.J. appears with the ukulele, and the guys take turns playing songs. Paul tries to rap to some, and we’re surprised at his skills. He gazes shyly at Tasha, and she giggles. When we’re getting ready to leave, Chase and Lacey come through the front door, and I recognize their make-out glow. I smile to myself, as no one else seems to notice, or they ignore it; either way she deserves to be happy. He does too.
The next day Britt and I get ready after we hang out in my room most of the morning because she has to go grocery shopping for her mom. We wander the aisles of the grocery, and I watch her closely, wondering if she has any compulsions to shoplift. She’s talks extensively in her therapy with Dr. Mase; she’s talked to Mom about it, but she hasn’t really talked about it with me. It’s kind of the huge elephant in the room. I don’t think she was ma
d at me over it, but she hasn’t said she’s not. She keeps track of her purchases on the calculator on her phone. She also has a pile of coupons on the top of her purse.
“I didn’t apply to any colleges,” she says randomly.
“Why?” I ask, looking at the apples as she fills a bag.
“How would I pay for it? Dr. Mase says I should think about my future. It’s all I can do to think about making it to graduation.” She weighs the apples and enters a number on the calculator. “I’m going to get a job though.”
“What about your probation?”
“I’ve only got twenty-five hours to go for my community service. It’s all manageable.” She shrugs and pushes the cart along. “So I’m going to apply, see what happens. I might have to sit out a year, but I have something that I didn’t before, and that’s hope, so. . . Thanks.”
“For what? I didn’t tell you to go to college.” She shakes her head at me.
“Believing in me and sticking around. I know a lot of people who would have disappeared after I was arrested.”
“I’ve been worried about you.” I look down at the stained concrete floor as we walk. “You were there for me when everyone had turned on me and I had no one. It’s what best friends do.” She smirks at me.
“That’s because I thought you were a rebel, but it turns out you’re nothing but a good influence.” We both giggle at that statement. “I thought we’d be a bad-ass team. But I’m straight as a board now.” She rounds the corner of another aisle and swings widely. I grab the cart, and we giggle louder.
“Careful with that; this isn’t your car. You can’t roll it around like you own the road.”
“I know what I’m doing,” she says as she begins to run, and I jog behind her.
“Britt,” I call laughing.
“I’ve got this,” she says as she squeals the tires and makes another sharp turn, treating the displays and end caps as obstacles on a racing course.
