Indigo Blues

by Danielle Joseph

  "I know what that's like. Well, not modeling." I blush. "But it's hard to balance a career and go to school full time."

  "Exactly."

  So maybe Hannah and I have more in common than I thought. And she did call me cute.

  "Let's get this party revved up a notch. Everyone in?" Zach asks.

  "Yeah," we all agree.

  The place is filling up and I see that a couple of brunettes in the corner are checking out Zach. No doubt wondering if he is, indeed, really Zach.

  The waiter passes our table and Zach flags her down for a round of shots and another pitcher. Hannah slides her leg against mine and I throw my arm around her back. My whole body tingles. It feels good to be this close to someone.

  We down the shots and that's all the courage I need to kiss Hannah. I pull her face up to mine and it's on. She sucks me in, and her mouth is warm and inviting. I only come up when I need some air.

  "I bet Indigo never kissed like that," Hannah says, a little too loudly.

  "No." I can still feel Hannah's lips pressed against mine.

  "She probably slobbered." Hannah laughs. Not true. She was a great kisser. I remember the first time we kissedit was at my nineteenth birthday party. Her full lips were like ripe berries, but I never got to taste the juice that night because it ended as abruptly as it started. Zach walked over and interrupted us to say that my dad was looking for me. I guess it was better that Zach was the one who stopped me, not my dad. But that night, I felt like everything was perfect.

  "No, she was fine," I quickly say, in Indigo's defense.

  Hannah pouts.

  "But nobody kisses like you."

  She gives me a quick smooch and then pulls back. "Still, better than Indigo?"

  She's not going to lay off. "Let's leave Indigo out of this."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl in a long baggy shirt and spandex pants slinking toward our table. I look over at Zach, who's sucking face with Erica, and kick him in the shin. This girl is coming for him. "Ouch." He pries his lips off Erica's. I gesture to Spandex as she reaches our table. She's so skinny that I think the fabric is actually holding her legs together, like chicken bones in Saran Wrap.

  Zach slaps on his yes, I'm the front man for Blank Stare smile. But she doesn't stop at him. She points a shaky finger at me. "Are you Adam Spade?"

  Should I say yes? Is she out to kill me or have my babies? I feel for a pen in my pocket and pull it out. There's a napkin on the table in case she wants my autograph.

  "Yes, he is," Hannah finally answers for me.

  "I just wanted to let you know that I run a support group for people who have had their hearts ripped out." She hands me a business card. It says The Lonely Hearts Club and underneath, Becky Gentle, President and Founder.

  Is this a joke?

  I look up at her hollow eyes, at her chapped lips. Something tells me no.

  "Thanks. I appreciate it." I slide my pen back into my pocket.

  "He's got plenty of love." Hannah gives me a big kiss on the cheek. "Isn't that right, babe?"

  Becky's face looks sunken, like an old teddy bear devoid of stuffing. Just like her eyes. It's clear that she's not ready to give up her spot as president of the Lonely Hearts Club. I reach out and take Becky's hand. Even though the restaurant is warm, she's ice cold. "Thanks so much for thinking of me. It's a wonderful thing that you're doing, reaching out to people."

  She bites her lip. "We have thirty-six members."

  "Whoa, so many," Zach interjects. She doesn't answer. I don't think he'd ever know what it's like to be a member of the Lonely Hearts Club.

  I don't know if it's the beer talking, but I just can't let Becky go back to her table with nothing. No feeling of accomplishment. "You keep at it, Becky, and you'll find your true love." I stand up and give her a hug, careful not to break her.

  "Thanks, Adam. You're welcome to come to a meeting anytime. I'll keep an eye out for you." I watch her walk back to her table. Her shoulders are high. Two girls are waiting for her, waiting for a glimmer of hope.

  "What a wacko, but you're so sweet," Hannah says.

  "Yeah!" Erica raises her glass. "And Hannah usually goes for sour!"

  But I meant what I said. Really.

  "Not true," Hannah whines. "I dated that one professor guy.

  "That's only because you were failing his class," Erica says.

  "True." Hannah takes a huge swig of beer.

  Everyone is quiet as we finish the last of our drinks.

  "Let's hit the road," Zach says after we settle the bill.

  We shuffle outside, Hannah by my side. I can tell that people are staring but I'm not sure if it's because I'm Adam Spade, or because I'm next to Hannah, or because I'm an honorary member of the Lonely Hearts Club.

  Zach and Erica take off to his place, so Hannah and I are left standing on the sidewalk. She hails a cab and pulls me toward the open door. "I want you now. Come home with me."

  Nobody has ever said that to me before. How can I say no?

  fter Tripp drops me off, I make a mad dash upstairs. Mom pops her head out of her bedroom door. Crap.

  "You're home early. How was your date?"

  I can hear CNN blaring from her bedroom. I hope Dad doesn't pop his head out, too.

  "Fine. We went to Catalina, then Starbucks."

  "And?" She reaches over to me and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

  Krista was a bitch. I dumped a frappuccino on her. Oh, and your lovely son has started impersonating me online. "We walked around, too. I still don't like Krista."

  "But do you still like Tripp?"

  "He's nice."

  "And he had good manners."

  She talked to him for all of thirty seconds. "Yeah. I'm gonna go call Cat before it's too late."

  Mom's face drops a little. I hope I haven't upset her, but she'd never understand how screwed I am. "No, go ahead."

  I give her a kiss on the cheek. "We can talk more in the morning."

  "Alright. Good night," she says and disappears back into her room.

  I stop by Eli's room on the way to mine. Empty. After I call Cat, he's dead. I shut my bedroom door and pull out my cell. I walk back and forth as I wait for her to pick up. "Cat, oh my God, I'm so glad you answered."

  "Indigo? You're out of breath. What's wrong?"

  I stop pacing and end up in front of the computer. "First Eli, then Krista. This is war. I just can't believe-"

  "What happened?" she cuts me off.

  "Do you want the Krista or Eli story first?"

  "Eli. He's easier to dissect."

  "He set up a website about me." My heart's beating so fast, I feel like it's going to jump out of my chest. I sit down and type in wwwindigojackson.com. The site pops up. Whoa. I'm looking at a photo of me from the junior cotillion. I can't believe Mom actually convinced me that I looked good in peach.

  "Why?"

  "Who knows?" I'm staring at my website. At words stretching across the screen. Words that I did not say. My brother sucks. "It's called The Real Indigo, the girl behind the song."

  "Okay, so that's no big deal."

  On the left-hand side he's set up a bunch of links: Hear Me Out. Fun Facts. Blog. And even one that says, For Media. I click on Hear Me Out.

  "It wouldn't be such a big deal if there wasn't a supposed quote from me saying, `I'm sick of this crap."'

  She gasps, then stops. "That's good. You're voicing your opinion!"

  "No, he totally took it out of context. I want people to know how I feel, but I don't want them to hate me in the process. Eli was asking me dumb questions about Adam and I just wanted him to get out of my room!"

  I hear huffing. "Okay, I'm at my computer now. What's the address?"

  "Indigojackson.com."

  I'm back to pacing the room. I can't sit still. I have to know what Cat thinks. She'll tell it like it is. "So?"

  "Not so baaaad."

  "But that doesn't make it good."

  "We j
ust need to get him to take down some of the content. Like the part on your most recent blog entry about you never even being in love with Adam. That's kind of cruel."

  "Yeah, but why was I supposed to be in love? We only dated for three months. Not enough time for me to feel that way about him."

  "You and I know that, but not the rest of America."

  "You mean millions of people might read this?" Chips and salsa from dinner swirl around in my stomach, threatening to reenter the world.

  "No, it's not like everyone is looking for this site."

  I let out a small sigh of relief.

  "Unless they Google `Indigo Blues. "' I hear her typing again. "Yup, this site comes up on the first page of listings."

  The phone slips out of my hand and drops to the floor. I run to the bathroom and lose it. Good thing I didn't pay for dinner. I turn on the hot water and douse my face. I still can't fathom how my own brother could do this to me. Sell me out. And the worst part is, I haven't even told Cat about Krista yet.

  I look into the mirror. I'm still the same girl. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Long nose. Pointy chin. What happened to me? I feel like I'm the victim of some evil curse.

  I dry my face off and call Cat back.

  "What took you so long? I was going to wake up my mom so I could take her car and come rescue you."

  "Sorry, I was temporarily ill." I ease back down into my computer chair to face the music. "That was only the latest in my night from hell."

  "Things didn't go well with Tripp?"

  "They were fine until Krista had to open her big fat mouth about the website."

  "I hope you told that slut off."

  "Worse."

  "How?"

  "I accidentally dumped my frappuccino on her head."

  Cat laughs so hard I'm afraid she might pee her pants.

  "It's not that funny," I finally say.

  She tries to compose herself by attempting to clear her throat. "Funniest thing I've heard all week. Krista so deserves it."

  "But you know there'll be payback. She's running a story about me on Monday on Raiders' Pride."

  "Oh." Cat mellows.

  "I told you my life sucks." I pound my fist on my desk. My peace-sign ring digs into my finger. "Ouch! Should I kill myself now?"

  "No! Get ahold of yourself. You can't let this song ruin your life."

  "How can I not?" I pull the ring off and spin it around in circles on the desk.

  "By being the same wonderful Indigo Jackson that you are every day. Instead of fighting everything, just enjoy the ride."

  "Have you been watching those Sunday morning feelgood shows with your mom again?"

  "I'm serious. Keep the website up and use the blog to express your real feelings."

  "I'll think about it." It's true that I don't want the world to think I'm some whiny brat, either. "And how am I going to get Krista off my back?"

  "By giving her an interview."

  "No way! Are you crazy?" I jump up. My head is spinning. I don't want to hurl again so I take refuge on my bed.

  "Trust me. I'll come up with a plan. I'll tell her she can have an exclusive interview with you but not until next week. And that she has to hold the story until then. That way, we'll have time to prepare."

  "Cat, have you lost your mind?"

  "No, it's perfect. It'll give her time to cool off, and she won't touch you beforehand because she wants to keep the interview with you so bad. Let me take care of it. I'll email her."

  "I guess. My fate is in your hands now." I cover my face.

  "I've got your back. So how did you leave things with Tripp?"

  "Thank God, he doesn't hate me. I stormed out of Starbucks, all prepared to walk home, but he actually came running after me. Said Krista was being a wench and deserved it.

  "Really? That's cool."

  "He even shared his drink with me."

  "And?"

  "And ... we made out. He's a damn good kisser. He was in it for the full ride, but I just needed some time to cool off after the whole Krista thing."

  "See, the night wasn't all bad."

  "True. Tripp knows how to work it. Even before we got back to the car, we were hot and ready to go. He said he likes a girl that knows what she wants."

  Cat gasps. "So he really wanted to have sex?"

  "Oh, yeah." I climb under the covers, fully clothed. "But I didn't let it get to that point. He did have his hands all over my boobs once we got to the car. But visions of Krista coming to the car window with a TV crew killed it for me. So I told him I had to get up early. He said we should go out again this week. Just the two of us."

  "That's great! No more double dates."

  "Hell no!"

  "Okay, one bitch down, now deal with your brother and have him fix the website."

  "I'm on it."

  As soon as we hang up, I send Eli a text.

  U R toast.

  A few seconds later there's a knock on my door. "Come in," I call from my bed.

  The door swings open. It's Eli. I glare at him. "I thought you were out."

  "Joe's mom dropped me home, like, ten minutes ago." He's standing at my door in jeans and his stupid Future Filmmakers ofAmerica T-shirt that he made for himself online.

  "You shouldn't have bothered coming home. You're so dead."

  "Is this about the website?"

  "Sh-ya!"

  "Let me explain. This is going to be awesome!"

  "Awesome?" I shout.

  "Shh, you're going to wake Mom and Dad." Eli steps inside and closes the door.

  "Maybe they'd like to say good-bye to you before your untimely death." I pick up the closest weapon, to show him I mean business, and wave it in his face.

  "Drop that pencil." He pushes it away. "Now calm down and listen."

  "You've got thirty seconds."

  "The more you refuse interviews, the more people want to know who you are. I figured if we set up a site, every time someone bothers you, you can just give them your web address. Let them know that there is no mystery."

  I hate to admit it, but it kind of makes sense. I walk over to my desk and pull up the site again. "Still, you should've asked me first. You have to take off that nasty comment on the first page. It was totally taken out of context and you know it."

  Eli points to the screen. "It's just a little dig to let people know you're not a loser."

  "Thanks, that's so sweet of you," I say. "Now remove it and while you're at it, change the pic. I want something more casual and definitely less peach."

  He takes out his notepad and jots down what I say.

  I'm not even going to bother telling him about my run-in with Krista because he'll probably sneak it in somewhere on the site. Although it would've been nice if I had snapped a pic of Krista in her royal gooeyness at the Starbucks Pageant and stuck it on YouTube.

  I get up and change places with Eli. He logs into his Mac account, which is linked to the site. "So what do you want it to say?"

  "Something that doesn't make me seem like a witch, but not a pushover, either."

  "I am woman, hear me roar?"

  "Lame." I pace around the room, reluctantly letting the lyrics to "Indigo Blues" flood my head. I'm stuck on Indigo, how could you let me go? But I never let Adam in all the way. Yes, I started to, but he got swept up and clung to me like static cling. There was no room to breathe.

  "I could leave it blank," Eli suggests.

  "No, I have things to say too. How about ... trust is the first step to falling in love."

  Eli's typing as I talk. "I like it. Gives the guy hope."

  "If that's what you call it. I call it the truth."

  "Okay, so now for the new photo." We go through my digital pictures and finally choose one that Mom took of me over the summer. We were in Cape Cod for the weekend at my grandparents' cottage. I have a glowing tan and the sun is setting in the background.

  When we're done, Eli asks if I want to see a few comments that were left on the website g
uestbook. I reluctantly say yes. I need to know what people think. My eyes can't stay closed forever. I hold my breath as he brings the page up.

  Cherrypop23: OMG. I can't believe you really exist. I'm sure you're sorry now.

  Bikerchickie: u don't need da beyoch, Adam!

  Reymanl2l: Indigo's hot!!

  Stargazer: Good for you, express yourself.

  Kristalight: Indigo is one deranged girl. And she's not even cute.

  I exhale. Kristalight, girl, you messed with the wrong Indigo. And if the worst she's got to back her up is Cherry- pop23 and Bikerchickie, bring it on! I poured a four-dollar drink on Kristalight's head. Nothing can stop me now!

  y head is pounding from last night. My eyelids are heavy like steel drums. I slowly open them, and I'm blindsided-everything is pink. This has to be a nightmare. I'm talking about the walls, bed sheets, throw pillows, and, oh, even the computer. And there's another bed in the room. It's pink, too. That must be Erica's. But they both can't be pink crazy. Can they? Talk about getting in touch with your feminine side. I sit up and look over to my left. It's Hannah, sleeping like a baby, except she's clearly not a baby. I rub my eyes, clear out any fog.

  Whoa, my memory is coming back. We had fun last night-plenty of cocktails and massages. I know it was all good, but I need to get out of here. To clear my head from all things cotton candy.

  I quietly slide out of the bed and collect my jeans and T-shirt from the floor. Crap, I only see one shoe. I crawl under the bed and look for the other one. There are a whole bunch of beady eyes under there. Stuffed animals. Not just one or two, but, like, a whole brood. Maybe she's a collector. Weird. I can't believe she would've hauled all these faux pets with her from Colorado.

  I hear some grumbling and then, "Adam? Adam?"

  I lift my head up. "I'm here. Just looking for my other shoe."

  "You're leaving?"

  "Yeah, I've got some work to do." I look over by the window and see brown leather peeking out from under the pink shirt Hannah wore last night.