by LK Thompson
I run to watch him pass the hoards of people arriving to the party. A group of boys stare at him skeptically before turning to each other to make eyes. They were curious because Mike didn’t belong. As they get closer, I see that the boys are Craig and his friends. For a brief moment in time, Craig and Mike are feet apart, totally unaware that they share something with the other.
Me.
Forbidden love is a terrible thing for a girl like me. Quickening my heart rate faster than any drug ever could. A girl like me shouldn’t be with a guy like Mike because there will be repercussions, I can tell. But, now it’s too late. I know what this feels like.
I turned back in the direction of the party, fixing my shirt and reapplying my lip gloss. Suddenly Morgan popped out from the shadows, and I shout, clutching my heart.
“Was there just a guy in here?” Morgan asked.
I answered quickly, a definitive no.
But, she knew, egging me on by describing Mike in detail. How much had she seen? I wanted to pry, but her eyes were dark and menacing. I relented, “Fine. Yes, you’re right. He’s someone I met at work, okay? And I like him. But, he’s older than me and it’s new so I didn’t tell you or Taryn or even Harley about him. I don’t wanna jinx it.” And then as a reminder of her loyalty, I said, “I know you already kept my secret about not working at Franks Pizza, but please don’t say anything about this either. Please?”
I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, desperate to form that connection. But then, there was a scream resounding from the other room and we both had no choice but to run. It was Taryn, and she was yelling at Devin and Harlow worse than ever before.
I’ll start being honest soon. I’ll write Morgan a note. Maybe if I tell her the truth, then, maybe she will too.
1/9
Craig wishes we’d spent more time together at Taryn’s party. He texted, I barely saw you last night. Can I come over? Wanna go for a ride?
I do. I can’t.
1/15
I’ve officially lost my senses, thank God. Without any sense whatsoever, it’s easy to get through the days now, which is odd because I’m bumping into walls, unaware of my surroundings. Blind to the obvious bumps in the road. Craig to Mike. Mike to Craig. I’m a ping pong ball that loves both players.
I’m happy in this volley until I remember my past life. Taryn? What’s going on with her? Did I see Harlow crying in the car earlier? I could’ve sworn I’d witnessed the unthinkable too. Morgan in the middle of Taryn’s living room with an open palm of pills. I blinked and they were gone. Could I have imagined it?
At night, I close my eyes to sleep. I dream of Mike until the sun shines through my window, forcing me out of bed. I smile at the thought of him. Mike is irresistible, more tempting than anything I’ve ever known. But then, I remember that the world doesn’t consist of only the two of us and I think, shit.
No one’s getting better.
I promised Harley I’d be there for her, but I’m not. The “disease” is running rampant and I’m not strong enough to fight it. To fight us. We’re the disease. Mom says I’m in a fog. Taryn and Morgan roll their eyes and excuse my behavior, by saying I’m on Planet Eleanor. I’m thankful for their excuses.
The constant war on Devin McCabe is a grueling one. Taryn’s jaw is locked in place, unrelenting and unwilling to release him until he’s dead. But, what is the prize this time? I don’t see it. If it were about Blake, the boy she claimed, I’d understand more. I keep telling myself that if I knew what Taryn and Morgan were up to for sure, I could stop it. But, the truth is, Taryn’s spiky and mean. She bristles when approached and my instincts tell me it’d be easier to subtract myself. Fade into a different life. One that makes me happy.
If I do that, none of this can be my fault.
1/18
I’ve never been hypnotized, but I watched a talk show once when they had a hypnotist make all the guests on stage believe they were something they weren’t—like a chicken or a dolphin or something. I keep thinking about that particular episode because I think someone did it to me. Physically present, but mentally gone.
I hear Harlow say, “Devin’s so distant. He’s totally changed. Do you think he likes Millie Sailing?”
Her instincts are kicking in, and they’re right to. Harlow’s no longer got a grip on her boyfriend and the impending doom was obvious. She’s on a treadmill, praying something will change, but she only knows how to run in one direction.
Nonetheless, her instincts kick mine in, too, and for a moment, I’m awake. Do I think he likes Millie? Yeah, I could see that. I did notice him at her locker a few times. Lingering, the way crushes do.
But then, I hear Taryn, “Harlow’s self-absorbed, too busy worrying about herself to worry about us. Even Babble thinks so—it’s all over the school.”
And I wonder why Harlow never asked about me or my job during the course of our conversation. Why wasn’t I important enough to be curious about?
I hear Morgan’s aggressive tone when Taryn asks her if she agrees, “Yeah, I see it too. She’s…different lately.”
To remain safe, I have a script from which I choose my responses—each one tailored and perfect for the appropriate person and moment, but the conversation is hollow. My words echo and fall flat. They resonate with nobody.
Today, Devin finally dumped Harlow and Taryn promised to hold a party in her honor. After all her disgusting behavior, she’s triumphantly proud at this outcome. Now that Devin’s dumped Harlow, Taryn’s alive again. A dry seed pushed into damp soil, sprouting quickly given the attention, water, light, nourishment it so needs. I see the spark in Taryn’s eyes and it frightens me. Like the hypnotist on the show snapping his fingers to wake everyone up.
I’m dropped from the sky into Pelham. Thud.
Now, the town’s in flames and I need to find my fire extinguisher. First, I texted Harlow: Heard the news. Forget him. Wanna borrow my gold eyeliner? Craig is obsessed with me, so you know it works.
I almost ask her if she’s crying. I want to say the exact right thing like she did when Jake cheated on me, Are you gonna be okay? I nearly admit that I’ve got secrets too—a boy I’m seeing who isn’t Craig and is too old for me. Twenty-two. He’s my boss at a strip club. My job. I’d like to offer something juicy as a distraction to connect with my friend so badly, but I don’t know how after being gone for so long.
I texted Mike, Hey I’m gonna stay in tonight and hang with Everly. I’ll miss you.
It’s a bold statement—all of it. I’m backing out of a plan. I’m declaring that I’ll miss him. Something neither one of us has ever said. Mostly because we’re together so often. Tonight, we were supposed to meet by the bay to sit in his car. I use Everly as the excuse because I don’t want to confuse things. Everly is my ten year old sister—there’s nothing to read into.
Tonight, I’m clearing my head.
1/19
I tried. Really, I sat in my room all night, combing through Babble conversations and comments to piece together the year leading up to this day with Harlow, Morgan, Taryn, and Devin. And just when my eyes were bloodshot and drooping from exhaustion, I figured it out. Taryn pried Devin and Harlow apart—for Morgan. The whole year, I’d been curious why Taryn would care about Devin McCabe when it finally clicked. Morgan’s always liked Devin. And Taryn has always yearned for Morgan’s affection. A golden ticket impossible to attain. Morgan is stoic and cold, an unbreakable human, with one Achilles heel, a crush on the boy next door.
So Taryn was doing this for her.
Climbing into bed, I was relieved at the epiphany. I was back in the game without a fleeting thought of Jimmy’s or Mike for what might have been three full hours. Right before closing my eyes, I texted Roy, You’re so lucky you don’t live in Pelham.
He wrote back, Huh? That’s not something people from Maplewood hear everyday. I’m interested. You working tomorrow?
Yep, I’ll be there at 3:30pm. Night, friend.
Night.
A happy cloud engulfed me and I fell asleep with visions of conquering both of my lives the next day. I was sure I could do it.
But, today during my shift, I learned that conquering PHS was only half the battle because when I got to work, Jimmy found me in the dressing room and said, “Meet me in my office after your first round of shots.”
I was pulling back Marta’s hair into a halo braid and wobbled, caught off guard. I nodded obediently, “Sure, no problem. I’ll be there in one minute.”
I ran to the bar, stuffed my tray with gelatin shots, test tube shots, and tequila sunrise shots (our special of the night—only $4!). By the time I made it through a single pass, my tray was empty and I was proud of myself. No matter what Jimmy had to say, he couldn’t be pissed that I wasn’t doing my job. I placed my tray at the edge of the bar, collected myself with a deep breath and a mini pep talk. Maybe I was freaking out over nothing! I got this!
I knocked on his door, which was already open. When he heard me, he swung out to greet me, his rear stuck like glue in his wheelie computer chair. “Hey Bella, come on in. Sit wherever. Or stand. I’m gonna make this super quick. I’ve been hearing things and wanna make sure it’s a lot more rumor than truth. Now, I love Mike and all but dating between employees only ends one way. Messy. And Jimmy’s has enough drama as it is. You got me?”
I exhaled so much air. I didn’t even know where it was coming from. “Me and Mike? We’re just friends.”
“Mmm. Hmm. Well just remember, Mike may think he runs this place, but it’s my name on the sign and what I say goes. Plus, my office is next to his. And I’m not deaf.”
The memory of Mike pressing me against his wall flashed in my mind and I shuddered at what he must’ve heard. My cheeks burned as Roy walked past the opened doorway.
Jimmy called out to him, “Roy, what’s up? Can you give me five?”
Roy squirmed, “Uh yeah, sorry. Just wanted to ask about a potentially getting a date off for my girlfriends birthday. I’ll, uh, try ya later.”
He bolted and I turned back to Jimmy. “I really am sorry and I do love my job here. I won’t cause any drama. I promise.”
Jimmy smirked a little, “Running a place like this, I’ve seen it all. And I can’t technically tell you who to date, but you’re young. You don’t know what you’re gettin’ into.” His smirk turned into a smile then, and he raised his hand as if to shoo me off, “Get back out there, Bella. Can’t have my best shot girl hidden away all night.”
I ran straight to the dressing to compose myself. Roy rushed in behind me, his hands in the air, “What’d I tell you, Elle? You gotta watch it with Mike.”
I turned to Roy, “What do you think Jimmy meant by dating between employees? And since when do you care? You always tell me I should quit!”
Roy looked at me slyly, “Elle.”
“What!” I could tell that I sounded stupid—not how I wanted to come across to Roy of all people. But I also wasn’t ready to admit the truth. Even if they’re completely right—all of them—I don’t think I could stop.
Roy sighed, “I may be new to the dating scene myself, but it’s just…not a secret. You’re always touching.”
“No way!”
“Well, fine,” Roy seceded, “But you definitely French kiss more than most friends.”
My face was hot. “Oh my God, don’t say that!”
“What? It’s true.” Roy smiled.
I looped the hair tie at the bottom of my hair and slumped into a vanity chair, “You think Jimmy’s seen that?”
Roy pretends to think. “Yeah, probably. Marta has. Crystal has. I have. A bunch of the customers. The kitchen guys…”
“Roy!” I threw a tube of mascara at him and he dodged it, still laughing as Marta walked in behind him. I felt exposed. My excitement over Mike didn’t feel so, exciting.
Roy grimaced, “Elle. Don’t stress. Jimmy won’t fire you over it. He’s seen Mike do a lot worse. And yes, I know I tell you to quit, but now I’m not so sure.”
My stomach was in knots, his words about Mike were a sucker punch to my heart. Did he mean for it to sound that way? To make me to feel like every other girl?
I’m not every other girl.
I used to be. But, not now.
1/20
Shit.
Tonight, Mike texted, Hey, I heard you’re not on tonight. How am I gonna get through this shift? I need you.
I’m sure you’ll survive ONE night without me.
This is technically the second night this week. Can I come by later? Meet me outside for ten minutes down the road. I need to see you.
Okay—I’d like to see you too. But only ten minutes. I need my beauty sleep.
Then, my phone buzzed, Only ten minutes for what?
I read it and reread it. In a flowing river, this text was a jagged rock. But why? It made perfect sense. What was he talking about? Suddenly, I read the name scrolled at the top of the screen.
Craig.
I’d sent Mike’s text to Craig.
Instantly, my heart leapt into my throat and I began to choke. Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious. What’s wrong with needing ten minutes! The text meant nothing! And what did I owe Craig?
I dialed his number to explain that I’d been texting with Taryn. He was skeptical at first, but I could tell that he was happy to be on the phone and that feeling alone trumped any skepticism. He joked, “I was starting to think you were meeting up with other guys behind my back.”
Gulp.
“No!” I shouted defensively, and then, I took a deep breath, braver. It was an opportunity. “We’re not technically exclusive though, are we?”
“Mmm, I guess not. Every time I bring it up, you laugh it off, but I’m not gonna lie, Elle, it’s starting to suck. Like, I love seeing you at parties and stuff, but at what point do I become boyfriend material to you?”
My chest was pounding. It was a game of chess—one wrong move, and I was toast. I explained, “I don’t know. You leave for college next September. I guess I can’t really figure it out.”
Craig snorted and I knew instantly I’d made a bad move. He was losing patience with me, “Are you kidding? It’s January! September is practically a year away! And yet, you were able to figure it out with Jake? That guy has one brain cell, on a good day.”
I hadn’t seen this coming. The confrontation. Suddenly, I saw what being on Craig’s bad side looked like and I didn’t want it. Now, especially.
I sighed, my voice way more relaxed than the nerves rattling me, “I like you, Craig. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Well, think about it. Talk it over with Taryn when you meet up with her for ten minutes. Or whoever it was you were texting. But I just wanna say that if you were texting Jake, I’m done. That guy’s a total idiot and I at least hope you’d have the common decency to not treat me the way he treated you.”
“I swear, Craig. On my life, it wasn’t Jake. I’ll think about what you said. Give me a little more time. Til’ Valentines Day.”
And when I sat in Mike’s car parked at the bay, I looked at him differently. What do I want? Is it him? What can he offer me that Craig can’t? I’m relieved to have a deadline, finally. Valentines Day. I’ll know by then. I have to.
1/21
Being tugged in two directions, I dipped out. For one night, I paused the increased pressuring. No Craig. No Mike. Just two friends in a dinged up black mini van.
Harlow and I sat, stalking our prey.
With no license to speak of, Harlow snuck out of her house and jumped inside the passenger seat, giggling at my covert all-black outfit and glove compartment stash of snacks and goodies. It was the first time I’d seen her laugh in months. She lifted an apple juice, took a swig, and asked, “Is this alcohol?”
I scoffed, pulling away from the curb, “I know what you need, and it isn’t booze. We’re going to the movies. Well, my form of movies anyway.”
In three minutes, we were parked at my destination—Devin’s house.
I hid behind a large evergreen tree and an overgrown shrub covered in snow. A snow dusted Pelham was a beautiful scene, white trees, desolate streets, with the only illuminations coming from the street lamps and my headlights, which took me a few minutes to figure out how to turn off. I pointed us straight at Devin’s house. Harlow and I clung to the blankets and snacks I’d prepared while loud music blasted through the van’s stereo. A movie, I tell her. We’re going to the movies and we’re seeing a show she can’t resist.
I chewed a gummy bear and explained, “I don’t understand why we’re supposed to pretend we’re okay after a breakup. Just because the relationship’s over, doesn’t mean we’re done thinking about it. If anything, being discarded means we’re going to think about every detail more than ever! So, why’s it gotta be controversial to drive by a house and change classroom routes to purposefully pass them in a PHS hallway? What’s so wrong about stalking? I stalked Michelle every morning for weeks after Jake cheated on me.”
Harlow hugged her belly and laughed, “Not sure a lot of people would agree with you, Elle. They’re breaking up with us because they don’t want to see us more—they want to see us less.”
“Screw that. How do they know? Maybe they miss us!” I said, ”Nobody's going to roll over and hide the second they get dumped. That’s pathetic! The way I see it, you’ve got two options—revenge or stalking. You’re too nice to put Devin in his place, so stalking it is!”
Harlow popped a candy in her mouth and leaned her head back to stare at me. She said, “I gotta admit, it does feel nice to be here, knowing he’s in his room instead of me being at home and wondering.”
“See! Stalking is therapeutic. It works.”
We laughed over nonsense, blasting music and screaming the lyrics. The movie of Devin’s house was uneventful—our lead star stood by his bedroom window and touched a remote control or phone for a brief moment, then exited without turning off his light. It was nothing fascinating and yet his presence on the big screen ignited our excitement more than spotting a whale off the coast on a clear summer’s day. Together, Harlow and I were merry and at peace.
