Pelham High Diaries: Eleanor

by LK Thompson

  At a pizzeria.

  9/16

  Taryn’s party is tonight and I’m going to win back Jake.

  I’m going to win.

  Driven by something much bigger than myself, I pedaled to Jimmy’s after school. Past the beaches, across the bridge, and into the parking lot in twenty five minutes, a record time. During my shift yesterday, I’d mentioned Jake breaking up with me to a nice dancer named Marta and she offered to lend me an outfit for tonight. Marta’s the shortest dancer I’ve met so far, with a really athletic build so I was hesitant, but far too excited to decline.

  Unfortunately, in my haste to make it everywhere on time (I had to be Taryn’s by eight! I had to be at Jimmy’s before Marta’s routine began! I had to find time to get dressed before Jake arrived! Oh, and makeup!) I rode through Morgan’s neighborhood as a shortcut, and, guess what? She was outside and she saw me! I know, just my luck. She called out from her driveway, “Wait, you’re going where? You got a job?!”

  By some miracle (and a whole bunch of lies), I narrowly escaped her and made it to Jimmy’s with seconds to spare. Marta (and that is her real name) showed me a total of seven outfits, each one skimpier than the last. The only problem was her sparkle factor. Like, I can’t wear sequins to a party at Taryn’s. I’d look like an ice dancer.

  Crystal stood at her vanity station silent and watching. She’d ignored my hello but asked, “Let me get this straight. You’re trying to win back your boyfriend?”

  My cheeks blushed. “Yeah, he cheated on me.”

  Without another word, she shoved her hand into a duffel bag and tossed a balled up shiny clump of material in my direction. “Wear that. Unless he’s a regular at Jimmy’s, you’ll blow his mind.”

  I didn’t even look at it. I just knew that coming from her, it had to be perfect. Here’s to hoping it is. Off to Taryn’s!

  9/18

  Last night was a movie where the good guys win, the plan goes off without a hitch, and the bad guys retreat, kicking dust and crying big sad tears of defeat.

  By some miracle, I made it to Taryn’s on time and was hurriedly applying my makeup when Morgan decided to address my bicycle drive-by from earlier, “Hey, I wanted to talk to you more about your job. Which restaurant is it?” Her eyes were wide and curious. It’s very rare for me to have Morgan’s undivided attention and it kinda made my skin crawl. I mean, she wasn’t blinking. Nonchalantly, I answered, “Franks Pizza. You know, the one with fat guy holding pizza boxes on the logo?”

  “Oh, sure. But, why Maplewood? Why didn’t you try to get in at Pelham Trattoria on the boardwalk? It’s closer.”

  “Um…right. Oh well, it’s done now. What do you think? Blue or purple for my eyes?”

  Her eyes were drilling into me. Morgan was a bloodhound, unable to drop the scent, but I knew her kryptonite. Makeup! At that very moment, she blinked and looked away, “Purple? I don’t know. Neither? You look better without it.”

  Taryn shouted from the other end of the room, “PURPLE! God, no. What did I tell you about taking makeup advice from librarians? If you wanna look like a hooker, wear this.”

  A gold shimmer was chucked in my direction and I caught it one-handed. I clicked open the compact, dusting it over my eyelids as Morgan skulked off. The librarian comment degraded her and I felt bad. Before she was out of sight, I called out, “Sorry Morgan—you’re not a librarian! And get Harlow, will you?! She promised to do my hair!” Then, to Taryn, I mouthed, “Thanks.”

  It wasn’t more than ten minutes later that Taryn’s house was filled with our peers and I sat alone, taking deep breaths and awaiting my cue.

  Crystal’s outfit stuck to me like rubber, accentuating every curve of my body. The plunging neckline stopped just above my belly button and the spaghetti straps that tied around my neck, threatened to come undone. At Jimmy’s this would be the big moment in Crystal’s routine, but I had no interest in flashing my entire grade. The pants glued from my hips down to the ankles but the material, which appeared to be leather, was so thin, I knew the whole thing could slip off easily. I couldn’t believe my eyes and had to shut them when I saw myself standing in the mirror. This wasn’t me. This was Crystal.

  I breathed deeply and channeled her before making my way out of Taryn’s room to slowly descend into the Casey ballroom. My classmates sensed my approach and craned their necks to watch. Jake stood defenseless, barely out of the entryway, Michelle faithfully by his side. The look in his eyes sang defeat. Before one word was spoken, Jake’s eyes told me I’d won. If I’d allow him in, he would be mine. Michelle dug her nails into his arm, desperate, but I didn’t so much as look at her as I placed my hand in his and pulled Jake into the middle of the room. Michelle was nobody.

  One by one, her fingers let go, and even as her voice fretfully called out his name, Jake, where are you going? Jake, are you kidding me? Jake, stop!, I gained momentum, ready to perform my final act. In the middle of the room, I closed my eyes and pressed my mouth into his, sealing the deal. Jake tried to talk, but I wouldn’t let him. Taryn blasted the music and I danced more confidently than ever before. I was Crystal the entire time. I wanted to be in control and powerful and I was. Just like the men who drool powerlessly over Crystal when she performs, Jake was nothing but a puppy dog following his master.

  Our kiss was passionate and all encompassing. I jumped into his arms and pressed my body into his, forcing his knees to buckle. But, even through the adrenaline, I noticed a change. The motions were habitual—like a song’s lyrics you have memorized. I could do it with my eyes closed, and did. We were two lovers who picked up where we left off with only a few pages missing in our story—a natural rhythm to every second of our touching.

  I let it be known to everyone watching that the message was clear—we belonged together. Yet, somewhere in the back of my mind I couldn’t dampen the memory that he had betrayed me. The trust is gone and all that’s left now is a game.

  9/20

  “Michelle was a prude anyway. I admit, I got kinda excited by certain aspects of her, but I was a total idiot to cheat on you, Elle.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Jake and said, “Certain aspects, huh? I can see how boobs can carry a guy away like that.”

  “I still love you. I have this whole time.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  Jake is trying to be honest. He’s attempting to make a connection. He texts, calls, and shows up at my house. And every time, it’s the same thing—he wants to sneak away and hook up. But without the audience, I’m not interested. After what he did last time, he should grovel at my feet for a year before he’s lucky enough to get me back. All of me.

  So, I’ve been keeping a little distance. Picking up more shifts. Slowly getting closer to Crystal and Roy.

  I told them both the good news, “The outfit worked! And I’ve gotta say Crystal, you really know what you’re doing when it comes to revealing clothing! He didn’t know what hit him!”

  Crystal’s smile was bashful, excited by her role in my plan, while Roy wondered aloud, “I think I’m gonna need photographic evidence. Please tell me you took pictures.”

  I punched his shoulder and teased, “No phones on the floor, Roy! Don’t you know the rules?”

  He peered over his shoulder and then to Crystal, said, “Pssh, Jimmy’s busy gambling on his laptop in the office. He’ll never notice. Plus, this is the kitchen, he pretty much leaves us alone in here. Quick, get it!”

  He had a point. I ran to the dressing room and scrolled through my photos before finding the perfect shot of me standing in Taryn’s room, wearing barely anything at all and slipped it into Roy’s hands, “There.”

  His eyeballs nearly fell from their sockets!

  As he passed the phone back to me, his expression grew strangely serious and I swallowed my laugh. Roy bent his head forward and went back to prepping food, “Well, congrats to being off the market. You got your boyfriend back.”

  And you know what’s so weird? The word boyfriend felt so
wrong for once, especially coming from Roy. Like a penguin in the desert. I can’t scratch the thought. I mean, I won, but the prize kinda sucks.

  9/22

  I’d totally forgotten about Taryn’s plan to join the school play. Okay fine, maybe saying forgot is a stretch. I conveniently let it slip my mind. But, I ran to meet her anyway. She gave me the run down on what I’d have to do along with sheet music to sing. I swore to give it my best shot.

  I walked into the classroom, with Mrs. Deacon. She lit up at the sight of me, “Eleanor Moser, nice to see you! I’m loving all these new faces this year! Go ahead and get started as soon as you’re comfortable.”

  I couldn’t do it.

  “Sorry, my friend actually made me promise to do this with her and I just, can’t. I didn’t practice. I’m sorry.”

  What a freaking relief.

  9/24

  I’m not sure what my plan is with Jake, but I’m feeling some loose threads unraveling and I’m not sure how to smooth them out. If I were my mother, I’d smile and ignore them, but for some reason with him, I just, can’t.

  It’s not like me to feel this way.

  The night I kissed Jake, Taryn kissed Blake, a boy from last year that never liked her in the first place. Harlow snuck off with Devin McCabe, a boring, but nice boy that Morgan has loved since he moved into the house next door to hers. And every day since, it feels like the universe has gone mad. I’m dating Jake, a boy who told me he loved me, begged me to sleep with him, and cheated on me the second I did. We are puzzle pieces that have morphed in the rain. We don’t fit together anymore.

  I don’t want to ring the alarm when everything seems fine enough, but I’d be crazy to ignore all the signs of an incoming tsunami.

  The other night at Taryn’s, I snuck into her room to reapply my lip gloss mid-party and caught Morgan alone in Taryn’s closet. She was wearing only a bra and her pants, as she stared into the vast abyss that is Taryn’s clothing selection. She fingered a low cut blouse on the hanger and shook her head before moving onto another midriff baring tank top. Her shoulder bones and spine stuck out like a stegosaurus and the expression on her face was pained.

  I left before she could catch me there staring at her, not knowing what I’d say if she did. Morgan’s not the kind of girl who likes to be taken by surprise. But, I can’t wash the image from my thoughts. Morgan doesn’t look like herself. She looks sick.

  9/26

  The one redeeming quality in Jake is that together, we look good. But even so, our dream of being on homecoming court together—him in his Gator uniform and me in a skin tight cocktail dress—is a miss. Even though I managed to couple up with Jake in time for voting, they announced the winners today.

  Principal Rowan bellowed over the loudspeaker, “And for the junior class, you’ve nominated the…the Harlow Hall!”

  The water bottle I’d been consuming surged out from my nose and onto my desk. I was gripped with hysteria, yelling to Harlow, who was sitting one row over, “HOLY BALLS…the Harlow Hall! Did you hear that? You won!”

  Harlow laughed at me, her cheeks pink and feverish. She was thankful I was there to break the ice. Sometimes I can be funny like that. Unpredictable and gross. Because her winning doesn’t upset me in the least—but I know Taryn and Morg won’t be thrilled.

  In the parking lot, Jake swarmed me, his hands glue to my waist, “I can’t believe you didn’t win, babe!” I giggled and pranced alongside him, running my hand over his biceps and kissing him deeply on his mouth and then swatting him away the instant we reached Taryn’s car. Why is it so easy for me to play the part of his fawning girlfriend? Every day that we’re together, I’m failing to see the reason why. What were the perks of dating Jake again?

  9/28

  I think Jake is texting with Michelle. I caught him acting fishy with his phone, but couldn’t bring myself to say anything because I need to figure out my next move. I’ve been lazy in maintaining our relationship, working at Jimmy’s more than I’m spending time with him.

  If he’s texting her, am I still winning? The thought of Michelle sitting in her room, reading Jake’s text messages and smiling at the attention makes me ill. Why is that what matters most?

  10/1

  Today, my family wanted to celebrate my birthday and I didn’t. Deep down, I hate birthdays. I’ve been driving Mom’s van secretly since I turned fourteen so turning seventeen doesn’t feel like a big accomplishment. Not to mention, I never even signed up to take my test on time so I’m not gonna get my license until February now, which Taryn is thrilled about, but like I said, doesn’t bother me one bit. I’d rather ride my bike anyway.

  I’m a positive person but something about birthday’s make me grouchy. Maybe it’s because my friends expect so much from me for theirs, or that Mom used to force Ev and I to suffer through ungodly hair bows with perfectly matching outfits. Turtlenecks and sweater sets. Hand made balloon arches clogging up our living room, streamers and confetti bits littering the carpet for weeks. She’d hire entertainers to lug an entire petting zoo to our yard or juggle oranges while our guests milled about, thrilled for all the fun in store. I’d always hide off to the side and watch Mom pace, cupping an oversized wine goblet in her hand, red wine filled to the brim. She’d make small talk with the other parents and Dad would chase us with his camera before eventually retiring to the garage to a drink a case of beer. Birthday’s were a bigger deal than my Bat Mitzvah.

  So, I was expecting the worst.

  Shuffling down the stairs, I stumbled into Mom, who grabbed my shoulders and shrieked, “Oh no! I’m so sorry, honey! I can’t believe this happened. Today just snuck up on me—we’ll do something big soon. I totally dropped the ball.”

  Dad called out from the couch, “Let’s do take out for dinner—what do you want?” And then he asked, “And what’s goin’ on with your license, Elle. You have a test coming up?”

  I explained about missing the test and said I’d get it soon but he shook his head, astonished. “Man, when I was your age, you couldn’t keep me off the road. Back then, there weren’t any bike lanes though. I guess that’s the difference.”

  Jimmy called to offer me a last minute shift and for the first time, I declined. Being home with my family seemed almost palpable under these circumstances. After we hung up, Crystal and Roy sent exploding celebration emojis to my phone and Dad ran out to get my favorite buffalo chicken pizza from the Pelham Trattoria. On his way home, he grabbed an ice cream cake too. My favorite.

  At night before bed, Jake sent a text that read, Check your mailbox, beautiful, and I ran outside, with Ev following closely. Shoved deep in the mailbox was a large bouquet of roses with a framed photo of the two of us taken at the beach this summer. Our tans are glistening and our smiles are real. It was back when I trusted him. A good, safe memory.

  Harlow called me and asked, “So, did all your birthday wishes come true?”

  I joked, “My parents finally forgot, so yeah, I guess so.” Then, I paused for a beat and said, “But, I’m kinda starting to believe I don’t need to wish for anything. Everything’s finally starting to work out for me.”

  I know she thinks I’m talking about Jake, and I let her. I’m not ready to admit the truth. This year has nothing to do with him anymore. I’ve moved on.

  10/2

  There’s this guy at Jimmy’s. His name’s Mike and I met him on the same day I met Jimmy—he’s part of upper management, so he has an office in the back next to Jimmy’s. Most days, he oversees the operations of the bar staff, kitchen, and dancers quietly. I hardly notice him, other than to greet him when I clock in. He’s quiet and moves throughout the space fluidly and without disruption.

  But last night was different. His eyes, which are the deepest blue, and a strong contrast to his dark hair and eyebrows, fixated on me and made me nervous. Had somebody filed a complaint about me. Was I too relaxed about my job? Had he figured out my age?

  All night, I was careful not to spill or waste any
alcohol, I stood off to the side like a statue while the dancers held the crowds attention, and I worried. Had I done something wrong? I pulled my shorts down and retied the knot in my black T-shirt so that less than an inch of my stomach showed. But, it wasn’t until I was counting my tips from the register at the end of my shift that my suspicion had been confirmed.

  Mike appeared behind me and asked, “You have a good night?”

  My face flushed, but I tried to downplay it, “Yeah, I did.” He was quiet, so I said, “I made over a hundred.”

  With that, Mike smiled and turned to leave, “I’m not surprised. Get home safe, Elle.”

  That was it! I know it seems like nothing, but trust me—it is! Everyone at work calls me Bella, him especially. For him to call me by my real name means something. I just don’t quite know what yet.

  10/4

  Hey Bella, did you mention living near Horseshoe lake? I’m in the area and have something I want you to try.

  Receiving a text like that from Roy, sent me running down the steps and screaming for mom to change out of her pajama pants. Even Everly popped her head out of her room to inquire, “What’s going on?”

  I was swiping dirty clothes from the floor of the living room and pushing a laundry basket into the coat closet, screaming, “Why is this house so gross?! Mom! A friend of mine from work is stopping by!”

  My stomach was queasy. My first out of work experience with my first work friend! It was a momentous occasion. I typed my address into my phone and Roy pulled his beat up green Taurus into my driveway exactly two minutes later. I ran outside, barefoot and he rolled down his window and called, “Bella, Bella, Bella! Today is your lucky day!”