“Uh, hey? Sasha? This is Steph. I’m leaving you a voice mail! I was calling you because . . . I wanted to talk to you on the phone. Which is I guess the regular reason people call each other? I don’t know. Anyway, call me back. Wait, I just remembered, you put you in my phone as SASHA WHO HATES TALKING ON THE PHONE! Oh crap, sorry. So you can just text. Or whatever. This is Steph.” It was sort of a ridiculous message, and yet I weirdly liked the way his voice sounded in the recording, low and husky, and that reminded me of what kissing him had felt like. He had very big hands, and when he had one on my waist and the other on the back of my head, I felt somehow calm and taken care of—I could relax. I don’t know why.
Every time we took a break, he’d look at me and shake his head like he could barely believe what was happening. “You’re just so . . . ,” he’d say. Then he’d shake his head some more. “I’m having the best time with you.” And then we’d kiss again and one time he said, “Am I being too gushy? I swear I’m not usually like this . . . like ever, about anyone. Not to sound like a dickhead, but usually roles are reversed, y’know?” And it did kind of make him sound like a dickhead to say it, but also I believed him. Because here’s a thing: Steph was very good-looking in a conventional, wholesome kind of way. Far better looking than Xavier, according to most people, probably. Not that it mattered.
* * *
I finally called Steph back later that evening when I got home, and he answered after a single ring. He sounded very happy. He invited me to the movies. And aside from being Jake and working at the shop, I didn’t have a hell of a lot else going on just then. And it’s nice to eat candy in the AC in the dark, and he seemed like a pleasant enough person to go with, so I said yes.
We went to see some dumb comedy, starring this really awful comedian. Steph laughed the whole time, so sweetly and without guile. He kept looking over to see if I was laughing, too. A few times, I faked it to be nice. He held my hand during the movie and kissed me once at the end of the night when he dropped me back at my house. “This was so fun,” he said. He was looking at me all lovey and blinky. It was nice to be looked at like that, even though I hadn’t done anything to deserve it. “We have to do this again,” he said. “Sure,” I said, without really meaning it. But the next night, he asked me to go swimming at the swim club his family belonged to, and I said okay. And the night after that, we had cheese fries at a diner. After hanging out three nights in a row, he said, “I know this is really soon, but can I call you my girlfriend?” I said, “How about you call me Sasha?” And he laughed like I was kidding and kissed me on the cheek like we’d just sealed a deal.
August 5, 12:26 a.m.
Ivy: You up?
Jake: Nope. Definitely sleeping. Are you?
Ivy: Sleeping too
Ivy: We’ve penetrated each other’s dreams I guess
Ivy: Yes PENETRATED
Ivy:
Ivy: So that thing about meeting . . . are you still up for it? Or did you get scared like a scared lil baby?
Ivy: Because I just so HAPPENED TO NOTICE you have become awfully quiet on text pal
Jake: Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend? Definitely not the blue haired guy?
Jake: The one in your last pic . . . in the dark by the pool . . .
Ivy: Wow, you’re obsessed with him
Jake: You two look pretty cozy. Sorry, don’t mean to sound nosy . . . but I’ve been burned before
Ivy: He’s just a friend, and he’s gay. And even if he weren’t gay, it wouldn’t matter because he is just a friend. Okay??
Ivy: Is there anything you’re not telling ME?
Jake: There’s a lot I’m not telling you . . . heh
Ivy: Tell me what it will be like when we meet
Ivy: If you still want to . . .
Jake: Well, I’ll walk in. And I’ll be nervous but trying to pretend not to be
Ivy: And I will NOT be nervous at ALL*
Ivy: (*I will be nervous as hell)
Ivy: will you give me a hug right when you see me?
Ivy: Or a kiss?
Jake: it will depend on what you want me to do. What do you want me to do?
Ivy: Are you trying to dirty text me? Is this SEXTING?
Jake: I think so
Ivy: HA. Okay then. I’ll do anything you like
Jake: Anything?
Ivy: ANYTHING. Is this how sexting goes?
Jake: I’m not sure we’re doing it right
Ivy: Well we’re learning
Jake: We can learn together. Go back to the part where you tell me you’d do anything. Would you?
Ivy: Anything . . .
Jake: What if I wanted you to . . .
Ivy: I can see the dots they keep stopping and starting
Jake: I typed something and then deleted it . . .
Ivy: What are you typing that you’re so shy to send???
Jake: I am not shy . . . it’s just private . . .
Ivy: Your ellipses are very SEXUAL
Jake: Ellipses are the most erotic punctuation
Jake: . . .
Jake: . . .
Ivy: Oh yeah, you hot thing you . . .
Ivy: But what were you typing? For real?
Jake: I’ll type it again but not click send . . . we can do a test and see if you’re psychic
Ivy: Okay, I’m ready. I’m opening myself up to the POWER of the universe. Your RAW SEXUAL POWER
Jake: Perfect. Okay, I’m about to do it. Starting . . . NOW
Ivy: I’m closing my eyes . . . I see all the dots. Okay and . . . yup, I think I know now what you were asking me to do.
Jake: You do? You got the message?
Ivy: Yup. I got it
Jake: And . . . ?
Ivy: I’m into it. But really though, I’ll do whatever you want . . . including that. Especially that . . . perv
Jake: How do you know me so well already when we haven’t even met?
Ivy: Guess it must be fate . . .
Jake: Guess so . . .
Jake: Goodnight Ivy
Ivy: Sweet dreams Jake
Xavier
The morning after Nikolai’s party, after that weird phone call with Sasha, Xavier had tried his best to go back to sleep. But there were too many thoughts racing in his head and he didn’t know what to do with all of them. So he’d lain there with his eyes closed and his fan blowing straight into his face, waiting and waiting for them to stop. And that’s when he got the text from Ivy:
I’m in your driveway. I have food. Please come. I am so, so, so sorry.
Xavier went outside and got into her car, and then there they were with the AC cranked up. Xavier braced himself for what he knew was coming.
Ivy had been wearing a big pair of sunglasses. When she took them off, it looked like she hadn’t slept. He hadn’t slept much either.
“I am garbage,” she said. “I was drunk and way out of line. I am a stupid, horrible idiot. Please forgive me, and forget everything I said. I am awful.”
Her eyes had filled up with tears. Xavier’s stomach started to hurt, the way it always did when this happened.
“You’re not garbage, you’re not awful. Please don’t say those things. Seriously, it’s okay.”
He understood what jealousy could do to a person. He understood what drinking could do, too. He knew that Ivy just freaked out sometimes, but part of him was feeling . . . tired. Just a little tired of the whole thing. The tiredness would go away, of course. He had told himself for sure that it would. It was strange, though, to feel anything but love and longing and awe when it came to Ivy. He never had the first time around.
Xavier and Ivy had unwrapped their bagels and cranked the radio. Ivy leaned her head onto his shoulder. Xavier turned and kissed her on the forehead. But it hadn’t felt right. It was like he was playing the role of boyfriend on a TV show. Xavier remembered how to do all the things he was supposed to do, but he wasn’t sure how to feel. Maybe he hadn’t been quite sure how to feel ever since they’d got
ten back together.
But as they ate, mostly what he was thinking about was Sasha. The stuff Ivy had said about her had kind of sparked something—that was the problem with words, even if you didn’t mean them, once they were out there they did things. They did things, just floating around in the air like that. He knew that Sasha wasn’t secretly whatever about him, but somehow hearing Ivy say all that had opened up a tiny door in his skull that had maybe been locked shut for a very long time, and behind that door were two words: what if.
It’s not like it had never occurred to him to think about her in a datey sort of way. He was attracted to girls, and Sasha was a girl. And while Xavier didn’t really have a type, in terms of what a girl looked like, if Xavier had to pick one, he might pick strong. And Sasha sure as hell was that. But she was his best friend, in the best-friend box in his brain, and she hadn’t been anything else in a very long time.
When they’d first paired up in class, it had occurred to him that Sasha was the sort of person he usually got interested in. But Xavier had had enough with hopeless crushes, and Sasha was someone he liked so much just as a human. So he put any other feeling or hint of one so far aside that he basically forgot about it. Xavier liked how sure of herself she was, how funny and smart and strange. And he liked how tough she was, though later he realized that hidden under all that toughness was a person who cared ferociously about anyone lucky enough to be her friend. And he liked that, too.
But what if there were other hidden things that Xavier didn’t see?
When they’d finished eating, Ivy turned toward him. She seemed much happier and more awake. She leaned over and took the little glass pipe out of her glove box, and said, “Let’s get high and go to the thrift store.” But the idea of being high right then, with the sun glaring down on them and his brain all in knots, had seemed very unsettling. So he said, “No thank you,” and she shrugged, and said, “Suit yourself,” and lit the pipe and filled the car up with smoke, and when she was high and smiley, they drove to the Salvation Army. She tried on 90’s prom dresses and bought a floor length glitter one that she said she was going to cut the bottom off of and make into a minidress. And Xavier reminded himself that there were many things about Ivy that he really did adore, and if he didn’t feel connected to her every second of every day, that was fine, wasn’t it?
* * *
But four days after the party, things were still kind of weird. Ivy was trying harder than usual. She texted him in the morning and said they were going out for breakfast, and she was coming to pick him up in ten minutes. Ivy did not believe in diners, as a general rule. She said they always had very good chewing sound acoustics and the sound of people chewing made her want to barf, which was convenient as diner food made her want to barf, too. But when she suggested Kettle ’n’ Griddle, his favorite diner in the world, who was he to say no?
Fifteen minutes later, they were in a booth near the back. Ivy wasn’t saying much. And Xavier could not help but think about the last time he had been there, six weeks before, with Sasha. She had challenged him to a pancake-eating contest, and Xavier said “To see who can eat the most or who can eat them the fastest?” and she said, “No, the contest is to see who can eat them the best,” and so they spent the rest of breakfast eating in complicated and glamorous ways, and in the end decided they both had won, since she had come out ahead in the style competition and Xavier won for flair. He thought about how he and Sasha always had so much fun there, the two of them, so much fun anywhere.
Then just like that, like he’d summoned her with his mind, Sasha walked in.
She was up at the front register and hadn’t yet seen him. A moment later, that guy Steph from the party came up right behind her, slid an arm around her waist, the way a boyfriend would.
It was really strange to see. Sasha didn’t have relationships. She didn’t want them. She made out with people and didn’t get attached. It was one of her Things. So then what was going on here? Xavier turned and Ivy was watching them, too. “Hey, Steph!” she called out, too loud. A handful of people turned to look at her. “Hey, Sasha!!” She was suddenly smiling bright, like Sasha and Steph were her very favorite people. They looked up. Steph had a big friendly grin on his big handsome face. “Come sit!” Ivy said.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Xavier said. He had a very bad feeling about this, but it was too late. Steph said something to Sasha, she shrugged, and then a moment later the two of them were right in front of the booth. Ivy hopped out to slide in next to Xavier. Sasha and Steph slid in across from them. And just like that, the four of them were together like it was a double date or something. Sasha gave Xavier a small smile and said, “Hey, buddy,” but she didn’t look him in the eye.
* * *
As they sat there at the diner, Xavier realized that being able to make meaningless small talk in a group is not only an incredible skill, but a gift to the world. And Steph was a master at it. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the strange energy simmering between the other three people at the table as he carried the entire conversation from one topic to the next. Things he brought up included a recent movie he had seen with his favorite comedian in it, the question of why movie candy is so much more expensive than regular candy (because “C’mon! It’s the same candy!”), and a description of a funny YouTube video of a monkey. All Xavier could think was that, yes, he is incredibly handsome and good-looking and seemingly full of energy and love for life, but he was missing something, some spark. His view of the world was exactly what deodorant ads and car-insurance commercials said it should be. He thought all the normal things and no weird ones, which didn’t seem right for Sasha. She deserved someone who got her. And Xavier couldn’t imagine Steph getting her at all.
Midway through their pancakes and coffees, Steph and Sasha were talking about some summer camp Steph used to go to that was rumored to be haunted, and Ivy leaned close to Xavier and whispered right into his ear, “Steph tried to fuck me once. I didn’t do it, though.” Then she slid her hand up his shorts and pinched him lightly on the thigh. She left her hand there. Xavier tried to wriggle away.
“The thing is,” Steph was saying, “even after they caught the squirrel, there were still the same noises. So was it a ghost squirrel? Is that who the ghost was?”
“It’s weird that you don’t hear about animal ghosts more often,” Sasha said. Xavier could tell from her tone that she was distracted. “Since there are far more dead animals than dead people in the world.”
“Maybe animal ghosts only appear to other—” Xavier started to say, but then Ivy slid her hand all the way up, and she squeezed. Xavier gasped, and not in a good way. He could see Ivy’s lips curving into a tiny satisfied smile. Xavier tried to take her hand and move it, but she wouldn’t let go. “Animals,” Xavier finished. She pressed her leg against his and started swirling her fingers in the way that Xavier usually liked. But Xavier did not like it then. She reached for her coffee with her other hand and raised it slowly to her lips. She was staring at Steph.
“My little brother says he saw a ghost of our dog once,” Steph began.
Xavier turned toward Ivy and shook his head slightly. She just smiled. This did not feel sexy or fun. It was wrong and weird, especially considering everything. He looked up and Sasha caught his eye, then she looked quickly away. And for a horrifying second Xavier wondered if maybe she knew what was going on beneath the table.
“But the thing was, our dog was alive at the time. . . .”
Xavier slid across the bench as far away as he could. Finally, Ivy let go.
“But your dog was alive?” Ivy said. She leaned forward. “That’s so crazy!”
“I know! That’s just the thing! Except a few months later, our dog actually got hit by a car. My brother said the dog ghost was time traveling, but I’m like ‘Casey, you are high! ’ ” Steph swallowed a gulp of his juice. “But also we were so sad about our dog that we kind of wanted to believe it, anyway. Sir Barksy was the
best guy.” He turned toward Sasha. “I wish you’d gotten to meet him. You would’ve loved the fuzz ball.” He smiled at her in this very boyfriendy way. But the weirdest part was the way Sasha smiled back. Like, Yes, I wish I could meet every pet you’ve ever had. A moment later, Steph’s phone rang. He grabbed it. “I’m sorry, guys. It’s my grandma’s birthday and my mom said she’d call me when she got to the nursing home she lives at so . . .” He slid out of the booth. “Hi, Gran-Gran!” he shouted into the phone. And he walked right out the door.
“You guys look cute together,” Ivy said. She smiled at Sasha. “Steph’s great.” Xavier supposed she was trying to be nice then, to make up for what happened at the party maybe. But Xavier felt protective of Sasha. He didn’t want Ivy talking to her at all.
“Yeah,” Sasha said. “He’s a good guy.”
The three of them sat there in silence for a moment. “These pancakes are so yummy,” Ivy said finally. “Sasha, this is one of your favorite places, right? Xavier said you guys used to come here together a lot.”
Sasha looked at her. “Totally my favorite,” she said. “Just dee-lish.”
A few minutes later, Steph came back to the table. They paid the check and all got ready to leave. When Xavier’s and Sasha’s eyes met, suddenly he understood something. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew, but deep in his gut he was sure of it. At the party, when Ivy had said all that insane stuff about Sasha? Sasha had overheard absolutely everything.
August 6, 1:11 a.m.
Jake: Okay, so here’s a question: what are you doing on Thursday?
Jake: Because I think it’s time we finally meet.
Ivy: Wait. Are you serious?
Jake: Yes
Ivy: Oh my god
Ivy: let’s do it
Jake: Can we meet at 8:30? Things are less terrifying at night
Ivy: You’ll be terrified?
Jake: No, I was thinking of you. You’ll be terrified. HEH
Ivy: Where should we go?
Bad Girls with Perfect Faces Page 8
