by Kieran Scott
“Won’t it hurt?” I hedged, hoping to get out of it.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
So I leaned in and put my hands around his shoulders and closed my eyes and turned my face away from him. He kissed the top of my head and lifted his arms to squeeze me. I held my breath and waited for the hypocrisy to be over. The second his arms fell away, I was out of there without a second glance.
“I love you, KJ.”
Yuh-huh.
My mother was waiting for me outside the room, holding Christopher’s hand. “How’d it go?”
“If he thinks I’m believing him this time, he’s cracked,” I said.
“I wish you didn’t have so much anger, KJ,” my mother said.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to be this way,” I told her. I reached for Christopher’s hand. “Come on, little man. Let’s go get some candy.”
He grabbed my fingers and we walked off. “Do you think Dad’s gonna be okay?” he asked hopefully.
My heart splintered down the center, and I nearly crushed his hand. “Of course he is, Christopher. He always is.”
ACT FOUR, SCENE FIVE
In which:
THINGS SETTLE
“SO, IT’S A PACT, THEN?” I SAID TO STEPHANIE, FACING HER ON THE couch in my living room. Some random Adam Sandler movie, part of Stephanie’s patented mind-numbing movie marathon, played on the TV. “We never fight again?”
“It’s a pact.”
She reached over our assortment of snacks to shake my hand. I watched her happily take a handful of popcorn and crunch into it, just hoping she wouldn’t renege when she heard what I had to say next.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” I announced.
“What?” she asked, licking some salt from her fingers.
“I went out on a date with Cameron. An actual date,” I said. I still could not believe I had done that without Stephanie knowing.
“You did!? When?” she demanded.
“Friday night. Before . . .” I looked away. Looked out the window at the freakishly sunny day.
“Oh. Whoa. Some night,” Stephanie said.
“No lie. And there’s something else,” I told her.
“What?”
“He kissed me.”
“Katie Jean Miller!” She bounced up and down, sending popcorn, pretzels and M&M’s everywhere. Then she noticed my cringe and stopped. “Oh. Was it not good?”
“No. Not at all,” I told her, hugging a pillow to my chest. “But it was my fault. I mean, it had to be my fault, right?”
“I don’t know.” She was thoughtful. “Did it feel like your fault?”
“It felt like he was feeling up my esophagus with his tongue,” I told her.
“Ew! Oh, God. Gross.” She dropped some popcorn back in the bowl. “That does not sound like your fault. Maybe Cameron Richardson is a bad kisser!”
“No! You think?”
“Seems like it.”
We looked at each other, wide-eyed, marveling at the very idea that someone as worshipped as Cameron, someone who was good at everything, could possibly be bad at the one thing that was of the utmost importance.
Finally Stephanie sighed. “Not to change the subject, but I have something to tell you, too.”
“You kissed Cameron, too?” I joked.
“No. I kind of have a new crush,” she said, averting her eyes.
I knew it! “I knew it!” I told her. “Who? Who is it?”
“It’s Andy Terrero.” She looked at me quickly, uncertainly, then covered her face with both hands. “I’m such a loser!”
“What? Why? Andy’s a nice guy!” I told her.
In fact, now that I thought about it, Andy and Stephanie made so much sense. They were both mature, they were both into science and they were even of similar, wispy-thin heights. They would look perfect walking into the prom together.
“Oh my God! This is why you asked him for help with your math that day!” I said, shoving her leg. “I knew you didn’t actually need help! You’re such the vixen.”
“It’s not like it matters,” she said, blushing. “He totally wants you! I want the geek-sloppy seconds of my best friend!” she wailed.
I cracked up laughing. Couldn’t help it. “Steph, he’s not my sloppy anything. And he can’t like me anymore after the way I freaked out on him that night. He hasn’t asked me a single survey question since. He’s totally over me.”
“Really?” she asked, peeking over her fingertips. “You think?”
The doorbell rang at that moment and I pushed myself up. “I’m not even remotely an expert on what boys think, but with that one, I’m pretty sure I’m right.”
I whipped open the front door and my heart caught. Standing on my doorstep was Robbie Delano. Just one of the many boys I could never hope to understand. He lifted a Dunkin’ Donuts bag.
“I come with sugar,” he said.
I could already smell the cinnamon through the bag. “You are a god.”
“You know, if you say that too loudly we could both get struck down,” he scolded.
“Come in.”
I walked ahead of him through the kitchen and suddenly, surprisingly, I couldn’t stop smiling. After that emotional nightmare of a night, he’d come back.
“Is your mom home?” he asked.
“She’s at the hospital with my brother, and then they’re going to my aunt’s for dinner,” I told him. “I have pizza money, if you’re up for it.”
“Perfection,” he said with a grin. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s fine. Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Mind-numbing. I was all about the mind-numbing. And holding on to this giddy feeling that was crowding out the gray.
“Works for me.”
“Hey,” Stephanie said, sitting up in surprise when she saw Robbie in my living room. She quickly picked up the snack tray and moved it to the coffee table, swiping up the mess she’d made while bouncing.
“What’re we watching?” Robbie threw his coat on the chair like he owned the place.
“Mr. Deeds,” Stephanie replied.
“Sweet.”
Robbie popped open the doughnut box and offered it to Stephanie, then to me. I took a cinnamon and curled up in the center of the couch, lifting the throw blanket over my legs. Robbie dropped down next to me.
“May I?” He gestured at the blanket.
“Uh . . . sure.”
And there we were. Me, Steph and Robbie. Sitting under one blanket on my living room couch on a Sunday afternoon, sharing a box of doughnuts.
It was amazing how everything could be so perfect, even when everything was so not.
ACT FOUR, SCENE SIX
In which:
I MAKE A DATE
MONDAY MORNING, FROM THE MOMENT I STEPPED INTO SCHOOL, people were whispering. I could feel them talking about me, pointing me out to their friends.
She’s the one. Her dad got into that accident.
I hear he’s still in the hospital.
Who drives their car into a telephone pole?
I so loved living in a small town. Everyone knew everyone else’s business within five seconds of said business being conducted. Or in this case, crashed. I was at my locker, trying to ignore the whispers of a few of my classmates, when Cameron’s voice cut through the chatter.
“KJ!”
I turned around, and my breath caught. I have to say that if Cameron Richardson was hot on a normal day, on a day of crises he was perfectly beautiful. He was all puffed up and harried, and when he stopped in front of me, his blue eyes were filled with concern.
He shot a look at the girls who were gossiping in my direction. “What?” he snapped.
They instantly scurried away. Wow. I could get used to that.
“Hey! I heard about your dad,” he said under his breath. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls?”
“I’m sorry. I was just . . .”
Embarrassed. Horrifie
d. Exhausted. Completely unsure of why you were calling me and even more completely incapable of talking about the date, the kiss, the crash.
“I was too busy, you know, visiting him in the hospital and stuff.”
Liar. You’re going to hell, KJ. Straight to hell.
“Oh. Okay. That makes sense. I was worried though,” he said. “Are you okay?”
He was worried about me. Cameron Richardson was sitting around over the weekend, worrying. About me. He was so, so sweet.
“Yeah,” I told him with a small smile. “Yeah. I’m fine. He’s gonna be fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Good, well . . . let me know if you need anything, all right?” he said. “Like, anything.”
Now I was smiling for real. “All right.”
“Do you wanna do something? Like, tomorrow night maybe?” he said. “Maybe get your mind off stuff ?”
Brain freeze. Did Cameron just ask me out? For real? But I thought my kiss had sucked and he’d thought I was a loser and—What was I waiting for? A solid gold invitation?
“Yeah . . . sure.” I only had about ten million things to do and worry about, what with my dad coming home tonight and the musical opening on Wednesday and homework and everything, but sure. Yeah. A Tuesday night date? No problem.
“Cool.” Then he winked and walked into homeroom, leaving me all warm and giddy and happy. Kind of like I’d been yesterday afternoon when Robbie had shown up at my house with doughnuts.
Okay. So my life was still a little complicated.
ACT FOUR, SCENE SEVEN
In which:
I’M THE BITCH
THAT AFTERNOON, TAMA SAT ALONE IN HER PRIVATE DRESSING room, humming “Summer Lovin’ ” while she worked on her eye makeup. I hadn’t talked to her since Friday night, and seeing her made me feel all twisty inside.
“Hey, KJ! Good!” she said when she saw me in the mirror. “So listen, I was wondering if you could put Janice in charge of just my props for the dress rehearsal today. I really need somebody to be on top of things for me.”
What she was saying made no sense at that moment. “What?”
She clucked her tongue and turned around, draping her arm on the back of her chair. “How are we supposed to have a decent run-through if our stage manager is half out of it?” she joked with a smile.
“Tama . . . didn’t you get any of my messages?” I said under my breath.
“Oh, yeah! That’s right! How’s your dad?” she asked. Like he’d just stubbed his toe. Like my entire family hadn’t just spent the weekend on edge.
“He’s in the hospital. Why didn’t you call me back?” I asked.
She shrugged and returned to her eyeliner. “I don’t know. You said he was going to be fine, right? So I figured, what was the point? Besides, Leo and I were crazy busy all weekend, making up, if you know what I mean.”
I was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. She couldn’t come up for air long enough to call me and inquire about my dad’s near-death experience? I had thought we were friends. Real friends. How could she be so casual about something like this?
“So . . . what about Janice?” Tama asked again.
And then I knew. I knew in that moment that everything Ashley said was true. Tama was using me. She didn’t give a crap about me and my family. She was just being nice to me so she could get her way on stage. I was so, so stupid!
“So, you’ve forgotten all about Robbie then,” I said.
Her brow knit. “Excuse me?”
“Refresh my memory. Didn’t you tell me on Friday night that you were going to dump Leo for Robbie?” I said. “Now, all of a sudden, Leo’s your man again.”
“Look, KJ. That conversation in the bathroom never happened,” she said, standing. “Especially not after the scene he made. He totally humiliated me.”
“Well, why not?” I asked. “I saw how excited you were! You really liked Robbie, yet you were totally rude to him. And now you have, like, zero guilt over the way that you used him!”
“Uh, do you need a ladder to get down off that high horse of yours or do you just want me to catch you?” she asked, whipping a poodle skirt off its hanger.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.
“It means, you’re one to talk, princess,” Tama spat. “You used me, too. To get to Cameron. Everyone uses everyone else to get what they want. That’s just the way the world works. Don’t act so innocent when you’re just as bad as the rest of us.”
My brain was having a seriously hard time catching up with her weaving logic. I blushed and lowered my voice. “Wait a minute. It was your idea to get me together with Cameron. I did not ask for your help.”
“Oh, gimme a break. Like you didn’t jump at the chance the second I mentioned it,” Tama said, stepping into the skirt and yanking it up. “You practically licked my hand, you were so excited.”
I was going to be sick. I really was. How could she talk to me like this?
“You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted,” Tama said, grabbing a white sweater. “It doesn’t matter how you get there, as long as you get there.”
“Wow, Tama. With that kind of attitude it’s no wonder you’re in therapy,” I said.
Tama’s jaw dropped. I froze. Had I really just said that? I wanted to take it back the moment I heard it, but it was too late. The damage, by the look on her face, was very much done.
“You are such a bitch,” she spat. She tore her shirt off and jammed the sweater on over her head. “You walk around here like you’re all high-and-mighty and angelic and above everyone else, but really, you’re nothing but a bitch.”
She shoved past me and out the door, grabbing her saddle shoes along the way. She slammed the door, which knocked over a hat rack, which crashed behind me and barred the door. My heart was pounding so hard and fast, I had to lean against the wall to keep from blacking out.
I felt awful. Just awful. Tama had told me about her therapist in confidence and I’d just thrown it right in her face, just to get back at her. What kind of person did that? She was right. I was a bitch. Sweet little KJ Miller had morphed into a bitch.
ACT FOUR, SCENE EIGHT
In which:
GLENN GETS AN EARFUL
I DIDN’T LIKE THE WAY IT FELT. BEING THE BITCH. I DIDN’T LIKE IT at all. It made my insides feel black. Sour. Kind of the way I felt whenever I thought about my dad. I didn’t want to feel that way about myself. I couldn’t. But I realized that was exactly how I’d been feeling, a little bit more each day, ever since that night I’d first told off Glenn. Sure, it had felt good in the moment—freeing. But it wasn’t me. I wasn’t going to let it be me.
We had thirty minutes until the dress rehearsal started. There was a ton of stuff I needed to do, but I didn’t care. I found Glenn in the AV booth, hunched over the motherboard, drinking his Yoo-hoo. One spill and the system was toast, but that was a conversation for another time.
“Glenn. I need to talk to you.”
He turned around in his swivel chair. His expression clouded over. My heart turned, but I screwed up my courage.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings that night at the diner. That was wrong of me to talk to you that way,” I said.
He seemed confused, surprised. Then smug. “Thank you, KJ. I accept your apology.”
My hand curled into a fist at his attitude, but I forced my fingers open again. He turned back to his board, but I wasn’t finished.
“Glenn. Wait. I’m not finished,” I forced myself to say.
He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.
“I am sorry. But you owe me an apology, too,” I said. “You hurt my feelings all the time,” I said quickly, evenly. “You can’t just walk around grabbing people the way you’re always grabbing me. It’s rude and it hurts and it’s also very invasive. It makes me very uncomfortable and you do it all the time.”
Glenn started to look ill. Like he didn’t want to hear this. Well, he was goi
ng to.
“And you know what else? Your lewd remarks aren’t cute or sexy or remotely attractive. They’re just offensive.”
Glenn was starting to go green.
