by Sadie Allen
I stared down at the bacon and eggs, suddenly wanting to cry.
“Don’t forget you have physical therapy at two,” she told me as she sat down with her own plate in the chair next to mine.
I searched her face again. She looked the same as she always did. No wounds or scars visible to indicate that aliens had invaded and swapped her brain out for another one.
Wait … I needed to tell her about the change to my schedule. I didn’t know if I could miss theater with the musical coming up.
“Um, Mom?”
Her eyes came up to meet mine, looking at me expectantly.
“I … um …” I wasn’t sure how she was going to take me dropping athletics. I knew Dad was going to blow his lid, though I couldn’t do anything with it anyway.
“What, Ally?” Her tone was soft, not impatient for once.
“I …” I decided I should just treat it like a Band-Aid and rip it off. “Idroppedathletics.”
“What was that?”
I took a deep breath, counted to five, and then said on the exhale, “I dropped athletics.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened.
I took advantage of her shock and explained, “See, I kind of stumbled into the theater class’s auditions for Grease …”
She was still staring at me, and her eyes had gotten impossibly wider, but at least her mouth had closed.
“And, well, I got the part of Sandy. And to participate in the musical, I had to be in theater … so I switched.”
I waited for her to say something, anything, and when she did, it was my turn to gape at her.
“Do I need to sign anything?”
That was it?
I swallowed hard. “Um, yeah … I think there are some forms in the stack I got from both the office and Mrs. Cook.”
“Okay.” She then went back to eating her breakfast that wasn’t on the approved list of diet foods for either of us.
I just stared at her. No comments or concerns?
“Um, do you think Dad—”
“Don’t worry about your father. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
With that, I dug in and savored every bite.
Before I left for school, I had all the necessary paperwork signed and ready to turn in. Maybe today really was the beginning of the first day of my life.
I breathed deeply, and it was easy as I navigated my car toward the high school; unlike before, when it had felt like I was fighting for every breath. A cautious hope had been planted yesterday, and today it was taking root.
I pulled into my assigned spot in the parking lot to see Miles sitting on the large concrete base of the light pole next to it. My palms started sweating, and my stomach turned. Anxiety and awkwardness made my skin feel like it was too tight for my body.
I moved the gear shift to park, and before I even had the engine cut, he had the door open.
What in the world?
“You do realize we broke up, right? I don’t think I dreamed that yesterday.”
He chuckled as he helped me out of the car before opening the back passenger door and taking out my backpack and crutches. He handed me the crutches, but swung the backpack on the opposite shoulder from where his hung. “No, you didn’t dream it.”
“So, what gives?”
I scanned the parking lot to see Laura emerging from her car, glaring at us. I ignored her and started scooting toward the door. Several people waved and called out to both Miles and me. I gave small smiles in return, while Miles did that guy chin jerk thing. This was the usual for us, Homecoming King and Queen greeting their court, but it felt awkward today. Miles and I weren’t a couple anymore. So, why were we greeting everyone like we were?
Feeling another pair of eyes burning a hole through my back as I crossed the parking lot, I stopped and turned just my head to look over my shoulder.
Sterling stood next to a black Ford Fiesta with Blake chattering away at him. I could tell he wasn’t listening as his blue/brown eyes bore through me. The skin between his brows was furrowed, and the corners of his lips were turned down in a fierce scowl. I tried to send him a bewildered look, but his face went blank. Then he turned his attention to Blake, who was gesticulating animatedly with his hands.
My stomach sank to my feet.
I felt a hand touch my elbow and shifted forward again.
“Did you hear me, Ally?”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the sick feeling curling in my stomach. Miles and I were back in motion and on the sidewalk that led to the school’s main entrance.
I kept my head down, ignoring the other students, and answered, “No, sorry. I spaced. So, why are you walking me into school?”
“Because I think we should get our story straight,” he stated, like we were in on some big conspiracy.
Story? What story?
He opened the door for me and let me walk through first as I asked, “Sorry?”
“Yeah, I, um … I suppose you didn’t tell anyone we broke up? You didn’t change your status on Facebook or anything. I just wondered …” He hovered over me, keeping the other students from accidentally knocking into me or jostling me as they tried to get to their lockers before the bell rang. It was almost time for the first one.
“No, we’re still broken up. I haven’t been on Facebook in probably a year.”
“Oh,” he said, blowing out a breath. Then he opened the door that led to the locker area as the bell sounded.
“So, again, story?” My voice was impatient as I tried to avoid hitting people with my crutches, but the hall was a crush. People tried to stop and talk to us, but I avoided eye contact and kept moving, shutting them down. Plus, I was stuck on the fact that Sterling was mad at me.
“Yeah, people are going to ask why we broke up and stuff,” Miles finally answered when we were at my locker.
I got it now. He didn’t want me to tell anyone I dumped him. Pride was a large, yet fragile thing.
“I planned on telling people that it was a mutual thing. We both just wanted to be friends.”
He handed me my backpack, and I was in the process of switching books when he asked, “Really?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“That’s the way it happened, right?” I looked up after zipping my backpack and gave him my big-eyed, innocent look.
He looked at his shoes then back up at me from under his lashes with a half-grin playing at his mouth. It was an attractive look, but it did nothing for me. “I have to admit, I wish things could have been different.”
A strangled sound came from the back of my throat. Uh-oh.
“But they are what they are, and I’m kind of relieved we’re not stuck in that place anymore. Waiting is hard.”
I didn’t fight the urge to roll my eyes this time. He hadn’t waited for anything.
“Turn, and I’ll put your backpack on.”
Again, I felt him before I saw him. I had been staring at the floor in front of me as Miles hefted my backpack on my shoulders, but when I lifted my eyes, I saw Sterling at his locker a little farther down the row from mine.
The way the school had their lockers set up was weird. The classroom area was behind two sets of double doors and was one big horseshoe. Before you got to the classrooms, there was a sectioned off area of lockers between the two halls. The back wall had your standard top and bottoms, but the rest of the lockers were island rows of just bottom lockers with a laminate counter on top. You could see from one end to the other. The back row was for seniors, and then worked its way to the freshman on the row before you entered the horseshoe hallway of classrooms.
Sterling’s locker was closer to mine since our last names were not far apart on the alphabet, and we were both juniors, which meant we were the second row from the first.
Sterling was watching our exchange, something flashing in his eyes before I watched them completely freeze over. I shivered from the chill as he tore his eyes away from mine. Then I saw the flex of his jaw
as he clenched his teeth. He shook his head and charged away, disappearing behind a swarm of teenage bodies.
I felt hands on my shoulders before I heard Miles ask, “What is up with that dude?”
I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know.
“He giving you trouble again?”
“No!” I spun around and faced Miles, whose shoulders had drawn back at my cry.
“I think he’s gay, babe.”
What?
“Why would you think that?” I asked, flabbergasted. Sterling was so not gay. Last night at the lake was definite proof of that.
Nothing had happened, except dancing, but the tension that had built between us as our bodies brushed and swayed together left no doubt in my mind there was something between us. And it wasn’t platonic.
“He’s always hanging out with that gay guy.”
Seriously?
“That doesn’t make him gay, Miles,” I said with a touch of laughter and disbelief.
“Whatever. He’s not good enough for you.”
That sobered me up.
“I don’t think that’s your call.”
“He’s not one of us, Ally.”
Thank God.
“Thank you for helping me with my backpack,” I said as I moved to go around him since the hall had cleared while we had been standing there, discussing something that wasn’t his business and never would be. The tardy bell was about to ring, and I didn’t need to be late.
He grabbed my arm, and I swiveled my head around to look at him.
“Just think about what your parents would say, okay? They wouldn’t approve of him.”
I wanted to laugh. Was he trying to keep me away from Sterling, or have me run straight into his arms?
“Sure, Miles.”
He let go of my arm and just gave me a grim look. Probably because I hadn’t sounded very convincing, even to my own ears.
I pushed off with my crutches and step-clanged my way toward my first-period physics class. When I was outside the door, the tardy bell sounded at the same time I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
I propped myself against the wall outside the door and pulled my phone out, hoping it was Sterling. However, the screen showed a text from my mom.
Mom: Moved your physical therapy appointment to your lunch hour. Didn’t want you to miss your first official day of theater, first impressions and all that. Be safe. Good luck. Love you.
The excitement I had felt this morning had been dimmed after Sterling’s reaction when he had seen me with Miles. Now I was both relieved and disappointed after my mom’s text. Relieved I wouldn’t have to miss theater, but disappointed it wasn’t Sterling on the other end of the message.
I opened Snapchat and clicked on the chat icon, then clicked on Sterling’s thread.
Me: Everything okay?
I then typed, “Miles and I are still broken up,” but deleted it and started again.
Me: This morning wasn’t what it looked like. We’re still broken up, and that’s why Miles was walking and talking with me.
Me: He wanted to “get our story straight.” *rolling eyes emoji*
I waited a minute, hoping and maybe praying his Bitmoji would peek back at me. I was already late, so it wasn’t like I was in a rush. When it looked like he wasn’t going to reply anytime soon, I finally typed one last message.
Me: Hope to talk to you in theater class.
Gah, I was lame.
The day did not improve. I never managed to catch Sterling’s eye again, and he never responded to my Snapchat messages. It scared me a little that a boy I didn’t know all too well was governing my mood.
I went to physical therapy and lay on one of the training tables with these electrode things hooked up to my thigh again after they iced it for twenty minutes. This only gave me time to obsess over all the reasons he had never replied.
My physical therapist, Jamie, declared my injury was in better shape than she thought it would be while she was taping my leg with something called KT Tape. This surprised me since I hadn’t done everything like the doctor had told me.
The KT tape was supposed to help take pressure off my tear and make the muscles surrounding it do the work. She thought I would only need to finish the week out on the crutches, and then try walking with just the KT tape and no brace.
I made it back to school, note in hand, just in time for my last class. The step-drag sound I made echoed throughout the cafetorium as I scuffled in right before the late bell sounded.
I was lucky Mr. Tanner had excused my tardy from this morning. I had played up my injured leg. Did I feel bad about it? No, not really.
Everyone was already seated on the steps, most looking at me since I made such an awful noise with these things. Elodie hopped up and took my backpack from me while I propped my crutches against one of the tables in front of the stage. She tried to help me walk over to sit, but I waved her away and took the bottom seat in front of her.
I looked over to where Sterling was seated next to Blake, not sparing me a look. I darted a glance at Raven, who was seated on the other side of Blake. She was peeking at me from the corner of her eye, her lips twisted into a smug smile.
I stared at the patch of tile in front of me, not really seeing anything, wondering how I had gotten back to this point. Despair hung over me like a shroud, my arms felt like someone had beaten my armpits with a bat, my leg was sore, and I was trying really hard to see the point of being here. I was drawing in on myself again, retreating from the devastation his apathy made me feel.
“All right, class!” Mrs. Cook cried as she clapped her hands together like we were a group of unruly kindergarteners, making me jerk at the sound. “I have assigned the rest of the roles. They are posted on the wall backstage. Once you check that, please grab the scripts and CDs that are on that table.” She pointed to one of the tables in front of the stage. “Then, let’s get to practicing some of these songs.” She clapped her hands, but this time in excitement.
I didn’t move. I waited for everyone to get their copies and get settled before I slowly made my way to the table. I didn’t even bother to see what Sterling was doing. I couldn’t take him ignoring me.
What had I done that was so wrong? It wasn’t like Sterling was my boyfriend. I could talk to whomever I wanted. I just wondered if it was something else. Maybe he had realized I wasn’t worth the effort, or that I wasn’t who he had thought I was.
I tuned out the sound of everyone talking and was reading through the script when Mrs. Cook’s voice cut through the chatter.
“Okay, first, let’s have our Danny and Sandy come up. Pink Ladies and Burger Palace Boys, follow along in your books on the steps, but you don’t have to sing. We’ll play the lyrical version so Danny and Sandy can perform along with lyrics.” She delivered that in such a rush that she had to suck in air when she was through. I swore she gave that whole instruction on a single breath. “Everyone else needs to move to the tables and start reading through their scripts,” Mrs. Cook added hastily and breathlessly.
The dull throb of an oncoming headache began to pound in my temples. I closed my eyes and rubbed circles there with my fingertips. Then I yanked the ponytail holder from my hair and did a quick finger-comb, trying to relieve the pressure.
“Ally?”
I looked up at Mrs. Cook, and then around the room, noticing everyone else had moved.
I gingerly got up, watched my feet as I walked up the steps, and stood in the middle of the stage as I waited for instructions. I knew he was there—I could feel him—but again, I was afraid to look at him. I wasn’t strong enough to see the indifference in his eyes after what he had given me on the pier. I had hoped things would be different today, but I was back to being alone. Always alone.
“So, grab the lyrics for ‘Summer Nights,’ and let’s try it out.”
I flipped the book open, located the song, and kept my eyes trained on the lyrics in front of me.
The music began, and
then Sterling started singing. When it was my turn, I sang, but my heart wasn’t in it. I turned my body toward his, but focused on a spot above his head in the wings. Mrs. Cook sang the accompanying parts, the only one who sounded excited about a summer romance. Neither Sterling nor I were very convincing, though I was really impressed Sterling could hit those John Travolta high notes.
Once the song ended, the room plunged into awkward silence.
“Oh my goodness gracious, that was awful! You all sounded like you had a wet blanket thrown over yourselves.” Mrs. Cook sounded horrified.
Heat hit my cheeks, my shoulders drooped, and my shoes were looking pretty interesting right now. I reached back and rubbed the tension from my neck, hoping she wouldn’t make us do it again.
“I want you two to go in the back and work on this. If y’all can’t get it together, I’ll have to recast.”
Maybe she should. Maybe I should try the work program and get an early release instead of theater.
I limped down the steps again and made it to my crutches, hastily jamming one under each arm. I winced as I put my weight on the pads. I was ready to throw these things to the curb. I guessed there would be no more carrying me around.
I glanced around the room and saw Sterling’s back as he headed toward the spot in front of the gym doors. I step-swung my way over there, taking my time since I really, as in really, didn’t want to do this.
I stopped a few feet away and kept my eyes on the gray brick wall by his left ear. Neither of us spoke. Tension, and not the good kind, sat heavy in the air. I was tempted to say screw it and walk around the corner to the parking lot.
He sighed, and then asked in an annoyed tone, “Will you at least look at me?”
I darted my eyes to his face, but then quickly back to the wall.
“Longer than five seconds.”
I could tell he was getting impatient. I didn’t know why he was acting this way. I didn’t do anything to him.
I reluctantly took my eyes away from the wall. It was an exquisite sort of agony. I loved his eyes. They were usually warm, but even now, as they stared back at me, devoid of any emotion, they were still the most beautiful pair I had ever seen. The brown, the color of rich amber, looked to have bled out from the small portion of sky blue that had taken up less than half of the iris in one eye and just dotted in the other.
