by Kieran Scott
I ran over and gave Shannen a half hug as we joined the rest of the team by the bench. The Rutgers coach was on her feet along with my two soon-to-be-teammates, cheering for me. Our ball girl handed out Gatorade. I tried to catch my breath. Tried not to grin too hugely. The hordes emptied out down the bleachers and toward the door, going for the snack bar while the cheerleaders launched into their halftime routine. Chloe and Will were on the bottom bench. He whispered something to her and got up. Right then, just as Coach was saying something about stepping up the offense in the second half, Jake trudged down the bleachers and slammed Will’s shoulder from behind with the full force of his body.
No. No, no, no. Not now. Please not now.
And suddenly the entire world zipped into focus. Will whirled around and slammed his fist into Jake’s jaw. Chloe and I both screamed. Everyone scattered away from them like ripples from a tossed rock, moving up the bleachers, across, toward the door. Jake recovered and threw himself on top of Will, and then they were both on the floor, wailing on each other like rabid animals.
“Jake! Stop it!” I shouted, starting across the gym floor.
Blood, I wasn’t sure whose, splurted across the boards.
“Ally, don’t.”
Coach Prescott’s hand was on my shoulder.
“What?” I looked over at her, confused and terrified.
“They’re watching,” Coach said, giving a surreptitious nod toward the stands.
My throat went dry. I didn’t completely understand why it mattered that my college coach and teammates were eyeing me—what that had to do with the fact that my boyfriend was staging an impromptu wrestling meet as a halftime show—but I decided to trust Coach and didn’t move. Seconds later, I completely understood. Two uniformed cops descended on the mess of flailing arms and legs and fists and feet and tore Will and Jake apart. Blood seeped from a gash across the bridge of Jake’s nose. Will’s eye was already turning purple. I glanced up at the Rutgers coach and held my breath. If she’d seen me go over there, she would have drawn so many conclusions. Conclusions about who I was, whom I chose to spend my time with. Right now, Jake looked like a psychotic loser with a violent streak, ready to go postal at any moment. If I’d run to his side, she would have forever associated me with him.
Coach Prescott had just saved my ass.
“Thanks, Coach,” I said, my eyes filling with tears as the police hauled both Jake and Will outside through one of the side doors.
Shannen put her arm around my waist as we turned back toward the huddle.
“Holy shit,” Shannen said under her breath.
“Tell me about it.” I glanced back again. I couldn’t help it. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“Who cares?” Shannen said. “Screw him. This is the biggest game of your life and he pulls that crap? Don’t let it distract you.”
“As much as I don’t appreciate the language, Shannen’s right,” Coach Prescott said. She looked around the circle, meeting everyone’s eyes solemnly. “As far as I’m concerned, that didn’t just happen. Everyone needs to stay focused. We can win this thing if we get them on their heels, but I need everyone’s heads in the game.” She looked me dead in the eye. “Nowhere else.”
The rest of the team turned to look at me, and my fingers curled into fists. In that moment, I hated Jake. I couldn’t help it. Shannen was right. He should have known this was a huge night for me. He should have thought about that for five seconds before making a spectacle of himself and distracting me. But no. It was far more important for him to mess with Will and Chloe yet again. And now I had my teammates doubting me, doubting my focus.
“Are you with us, Ryan?” Coach asked.
“I’m with you, Coach,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Let’s beat these losers.”
The team cheered and clapped, several of them slapping me on the back, and we got down to our game plan. From that moment on, Jake was no longer an issue. He wasn’t even on my radar.
jake
When the doorbell rang that night, I half expected it to be Will, stopping by for round two. I trudged over to the door in my sweats and glanced out. It was Ally, freshly showered after the game. For the first time ever, I just wanted her to go away. Because just seeing her standing there made me feel like an asshole.
I opened the door. A light, freezing drizzle was coming down from the sky.
“Hey,” she said quietly. I’d never seen anyone look at me with that much hurt, pity, and anger.
“Hey.”
I released the door handle and started back across the foyer, turning my back to her. Not wanting to look in her eyes any longer than I had to. Figuring she’d follow.
“I don’t know if I’m coming in.”
I stopped. My heart shriveled. What the hell did that mean? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. I set my jaw, resolving not to let her see me sweat. If she was going to end it, just let her end it.
“What does that mean?” I asked her.
She blinked and shuddered in the cold, pulling her jacket tighter. “Aren’t you even going to ask me if we won?”
“Did you win?” I asked, placing one hand on the doorknob and the other on the far side of the doorjamb, as if I was blocking her way.
“Yeah.” Her voice broke. “I scored the game-winner.”
“That’s great,” I said, my voice sour. “Aren’t you even gonna ask me if I’m okay? Because that jackass almost broke my arm.”
Ally titled her head. “Oh, did he?” she said sarcastically. “I’m so sorry for you. Poor, poor Jake. Almost got hurt in the fight he started.”
“Why are you being such a bitch?” I blurted.
Her jaw dropped, but I kept going. My defenses were up, and I was keeping them there.
“I’m the one who got hauled off by the police tonight,” I said, bringing a hand to my chest. “I’m the one who got suspended for a week. I’m the one who almost had to get stitches thanks to that asshole.”
Ally scoffed and shook her head. “God! Do you even hear yourself? I may be a bitch sometimes, but at least I’m not a big, whining baby.”
She turned around and started to walk away, headed for her mom’s car, which she’d parked near the end of the driveway.
“I’m not a baby!” I shouted after her.
“Whatever, Jake,” she said, lifting a hand but not turning. “I’ll see you around.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She paused at the driver’s side door. For a long second, she just stared at the window, the icy raindrops sticking to her hair. Then she popped the handle and looked up at me. All of a sudden I remembered what she’d looked like the first day I met her, right here in this driveway on a hot, sunny day. So fearless. So beautiful. So perfect.
“It means I’m done,” she said. “We’re over. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Take what?” I shouted, my voice harsh. I felt like she was yanking my heart out through my mouth. “What can’t you take anymore?”
“You! This! All the negativity and the cruelty and the violence!” she shouted back. “I keep waiting for you to get past it, for you to go back to being you … the sweet, thoughtful, and yeah, maybe sometimes dense, but also cool guy I fell in love with! But clearly that’s not going to happen.”
I clenched my jaw. “Yeah, well, maybe this is me,” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t. Even though I hated me right then almost as much as she did. But it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t stop feeling like this no matter what I did. I’d tried to stop feeling sad and angry every second of every day, but I just couldn’t.
“I hope not, Jake,” Ally said, shaking her head. “That would just be sad.”
Then she got in her car and drove away.
ally
“Welcome to Guys Suck Day!”
Standing in the open doorway at the front of her house, Annie wore a red, satin, strapless dress with a poofy skirt that I couldn’t believe she owned, and a four-strand rhinestone neckla
ce that covered half her chest. Two minutes ago, I’d felt droopy, tired, and heartbroken, wondering what Jake had had planned for us tonight—if he actually had planned anything. Now I was simply stunned. Annie looked me up and down and her grin went south.
“You didn’t dress up!” she whined, closing the door as I stepped inside.
“I thought you were kidding,” I replied. I shook off my coat and hung it on the overloaded hooks near the door, covering up someone else’s leather jacket. I paused. Wait a sec. That jacket looked familiar.
“Surprise!”
Hand over my heart, I faced the kitchen, where Shannen, Faith, and Chloe were all gathered around the table, filling bowls with snacks. Shannen wore a dark green minidress with a black lace overlay, Faith was sporting a floor-length pink gown, and Chloe had donned her silver maternity dress from Christmas. I froze.
“Um, Annie, are you aware that there are three Cresties in your house?” I said under my breath.
“I’m aware. The things I do for my best friend,” Annie said. Then she leaned toward my ear. “I already booked a HazMat team to come delouse the place tomorrow.”
I laughed, but I was touched. Annie had allowed her three most hated enemies into her house just to cheer me up. Either she was the best best friend ever, or I was in a sorrier state than even I thought.
“Ally!” Faith walked over and threw her arms around me. She had on so much perfume that my mouth filled with the sour, flowery taste of it. “Ohhhhh! It sucks to break up right before Valentine’s!”
“Hey!” Annie smacked the back of Faith’s head. Hard. “We don’t say the V-word on Guys Suck Day, remember?”
“Ow! God! Sorry!” Faith said, rubbing her scalp.
“So what do we do on Guys Suck Day?” I asked, joining the others at the table.
Trying to get into the spirit, I took a handful of M&M’s and started to munch on them. But even chocolate couldn’t chase away the gray cloud that had settled all around me ever since I’d driven away from Jake’s house three nights ago. For the last time. My heart clenched every time I thought about it—the look on his face, the effort it took not to turn around. But I knew I was doing the right thing. Jake was no good for me anymore. He wasn’t even good for himself. I just wished I could get my heart to believe it.
“We watch girl-power movies,” Chloe said, fanning out a selection on the table, including Soul Surfer, Bridesmaids, John Tucker Must Die, and Whip It.
“Cool,” I said, nodding.
“Eat tons of junk food and drink tons of wine,” Shannen said, producing a bottle from behind her back.
“And, if we get drunk enough, we call all the boys we hate and tell them to suck it,” Annie said, grabbing the wine and pouring herself a glass.
My stomach turned over at the thought of drunk-dialing Jake and making an ass out of myself. “Let’s not get drunk enough,” I said, taking the bottle and setting it aside.
“Buzz kill,” Annie muttered as she started gathering up some of the bowls of junk food. The rest of us helped and we all headed into the living room.
“Where are your parents, anyway?” I asked.
“Not here,” Annie replied.
“There’s also dancing, apparently,” Chloe said over her shoulder as she sat down on the larger of the two mustard-colored couches. She dropped the movies onto the coffee table and leaned back, arms around her belly. “But after what happened at my birthday I think I’ll sit that part out.”
“Oh, no!” Faith said. “There’s no sitting anything out on Guys Suck Day!”
She walked over to a cabinet on the far wall, opened it, and clicked on the stereo. A pounding dance beat filled the room, and Faith started to dance, kicking aside the throw pillows on the floor to make room. It was odd, watching her act so at-home in Annie’s house. I still couldn’t believe the two of them were actually ever best friends.
“Let’s go, Chloe. On your feet.” Faith took both Chloe’s hands and hauled her off the couch, almost tipping them both over from the effort.
“All right, all right!” Chloe said. She stepped from side to side carefully, and when Faith spun her around, she cracked a smile. “Hello? If I have to dance, you have to dance!” she shouted, pulling me into their circle.
“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Annie whipped out her Flip to tape us, and I found myself giggling nervously. As soon as the camera went on, Faith started hamming it up, rolling her shoulder back and kissy-facing the lens. Then Shannen joined us, half dancing, half posing for the camera.
Hmm. Perhaps Annie hadn’t invited them here for me, but so that she could film them doing embarrassing stuff she could use against them later.
“Oh, yeah! Work it, ladies! Work it!” Annie directed, climbing up on the couch to get an aerial view. Chloe and I cracked up laughing, more than happy to fade into the background as Faith and Shannen jockeyed for camera position.
“So where’s Will tonight?” I asked.
“He wanted to do something, but I said cheering you up was more important,” Chloe told me, tucking her brown hair behind her ears.
“Chloe! You didn’t have to do that!” I said.
“Whatever. We’ll go out for dinner tomorrow night,” Chloe said, lifting a shoulder. She reached around me for some chips and almost got her arm knocked off as Shannen attempted a twirl. “My dad says all the restaurants rob you blind on V-day anyway.”
Like Chloe had any sort of problems with money. But I guess Will was conscious of that stuff.
“Make love to the camera, girls. Make love!” Annie wheedled.
“Shannen! Get out of my dance space!” Faith whined, shoving Shannen aside.
“Don’t make me show them your bad side,” Shannen shot back.
Faith squealed and ducked her head as Shannen chased her around the room, Annie in hot and gleeful pursuit.
“This is actually kind of fun,” I commented, stuffing some more M&M’s in my mouth.
“Yeah. I’m not even thinking about all the things I don’t want to be thinking about,” Chloe replied as Shannen jostled her aside, trying to cut Faith off.
“Me neither,” I added.
Then we both just stopped. Because saying we weren’t thinking made us both start thinking.
“Let’s make Annie dance!” I suggested.
“Most definitely,” Chloe agreed.
We turned and grabbed Annie by the wrists, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor as she screamed in protest. The rest of us made a circle around her, and Annie threw her hands up in surrender, probably experiencing her worst nightmare as the gooey center of a Crestie doughnut. I wrestled the camera away and turned it on her.
“Hey! This was your idea, remember?” I said with a laugh. “Dance, Goth Girl! Dance!”
“Okay, but you guys are so not prepared for the ferocity of my moves,” Annie said. And then she launched into a full-on lawn-sprinkler the likes of which I’ve never seen. Shannen tried to mimic it, badly, and before long all five of us were doubled over laughing, gasping for breath, and best of all, not thinking.
march
I can’t believe Ally and Jake actually broke up.
What? You’ve been saying all year that they should break up.
I know, but they got this far. Like, why break up now?
Totally. She should’ve at least stuck it out till the prom.
OMG, I know. You don’t just give up the chance to go to the prom with Jake Graydon. I don’t care what he did.
Or who.
ally
“You girls look so beautiful!”
My mother took a step back to admire as Quinn and I stared at our reflections in the wall of mirrors in front of us. I had to say, for bridesmaids’ dresses, these were not half-bad. My mother had chosen basic, black, satin, strapless, tea-length dresses with a slim waist and an A-line skirt. There was no lace, no sequins, no tulle. Quinn looked pretty and slim, and I looked tall and sophisticated. It was a win-win.
&
nbsp; “Are you sure you want black?” Quinn asked, turning to the side. “It’s kind of depressing for a wedding.”
“I’m going to brighten them up with some funky jewelry and maybe have you wear jewel-toned shoes,” my mother explained, reaching over to fluff my skirt.
Quinn frowned thoughtfully. “That could work.”
“Of course it’s gonna work,” I said, kind of nastily, I’ll admit. “It’s her wedding day. Anything she says will work.”
My mother shot me an admonishing look as Quinn raised her hands. “Okay, okay. Sor-ree!”
Quinn walked over to a pink velvet chair in the corner, sat down, and pulled out her phone. Probably texting someone about what an ass her soon-to-be stepsister was. Maybe even Hammond. In a disturbing new and somehow incestuous-feeling twist, the two of them were now officially a couple. He’d sent her two dozen red carnations in the Valentine’s Day flower sale fund-raiser, and she’d spent the rest of the day telling everyone who would listen that she now had a senior boyfriend. Last night I’d caught them making out on the couch in the living room and I’d almost lost my dinner.
“Honey?” my mom asked, smoothing my hair. “Are you okay?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I asked, heading to another pink chair on the opposite side of the huge dressing room. When I dropped down, the skirt poofed up against the armrests like a black cloud. Classical violin music played through the speakers overhead, and the whole room smelled of lilacs and roses. I wondered if the people who worked here ever felt like they were going to OD on romance. “I’m fine, okay? I broke up with him. And it was, like, a month ago already.”
Actually, it had been three weeks and one day. A torturous three weeks and one day. Three weeks and a day of Jake walking past me in the halls without so much as a glance. Of watching him flirt with every underclassman blessed with two X chromosomes. A month of second-guessing myself, of thinking he looked happier without me, of wondering if I had somehow been the problem. So no, I was not okay. But it had been long enough that I felt like I should have been by now, so I kept pretending I was.
