by Sadie Allen
I reached for it, but Sunny quickly snatched it and started reading the back.
“Judd, you go get an egg and a fourth cup of water from the sink.” She handed me the small plastic measuring cup. “I’ll go get an eight-by-eight baking dish and the vegetable oil”—she then looked around to the side of the station toward the front—“from Jenny.”
As I was hustling back from the sink, carrying the egg and water, I heard Ashley call out, “Mrs. Shannon,” over the din of the classroom.
“Yes, Miss Klein?” Mrs. Shannon answered from her desk.
“Do you mind if I play some music on my phone?” she asked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“Well …” I looked over at Mrs. Shannon to see she had her faced screwed up on one side like she was thinking about it. Then she said, “Okay, as long as it isn’t loud enough to be heard in the hall.”
When I made it back to Sunny, the opening tones of a song I hadn’t heard since I was kid started playing out of Ashley’s phone. I looked over my shoulder at her to see that she was watching us with an evil smile on her face, while it seemed drill team girl was doing all the work.
“Really?” I asked in disgust.
“What? I thought it was appropriate for Pocahontas here. I made up a playlist just for you two.”
As we worked, we were treated to “Colors of the Wind” from the movie Pocahontas, then Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks like a Lady,” “Indian Outlaw” by Tim McGraw, and finally Europe’s “Cherokee.”
With each song, I could feel my anger building, my chest tightening. My jaw was going to be sore from grinding my teeth for half an hour straight.
“Hey, Ashley! Turn that last one up! My grana always loved that song.”
I looked up from the homework I was doing while we waited for the brownies to bake and hissed, “How are you not pissed about this stunt?”
“Because that’s what she wants. If I show her that she’s getting to me, like exactly what you’ve been doing, then she’s getting what she wants—a reaction. I refuse to give her the satisfaction,” she whispered back, and then turned toward Ashley, who hadn’t lifted a finger to help her partner with anything the whole period, and smiled a big ole cheesy grin.
“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the music,” Ashley gritted out.
Maybe Sunny had a point.
“It seems like you’ve had a string of bad luck there, trailer park, seeing as your truck and your face got a makeover over the weekend. Personally, I think they are both an improvement.” Ashley plastered on a fake smile of her own as she stood there, leaning back against the counter.
Or maybe not.
“Funny, I didn’t tell anyone about my truck. Wonder how you know about it.”
Ashley’s grin then turned genuine as she said, “I have my ways.”
Sunny looked over at me, snapped her fingers like she had just remembered something, and said, “Man, I forgot to include the vandalism to my truck in my report to the sheriff. Maybe I should stop by the police station before work and file one. What do you think, Judd?” Before I could answer, she turned back to Ashley. “Maybe I should tell them about Ashley’s ‘ways’?”
Ashley’s whole face flexed, if that was possible, and you could almost hear those metal gears of hers turn inside her head. She had made a bad play.
I knew what her game was. She wanted Sunny to know it was her behind the vandalism without actually admitting it. A vague threat was scarier than an outright one. One thing Ashley didn’t bank on was Sunny’s refusal to back down.
Sunny’s wasn’t a puppy that was going to roll over and show Ashley her belly. No, Sunny was going to make her own moves against her.
The oven timer sounded, and that was it. This round when to Sunny.
She ignored Ashley as she got the oven mitts, put them on, and then removed the brownies from the oven, telling me, “Let me check them really quick before I take them over to the table.”
Sunny reached for the box of toothpicks that were on the counter and pulled one out.
I was wondering why we needed toothpicks, when she took one and stabbed it into the middle of the brownies. Well, I had my answer. I just didn’t know why.
“Why’d you do that?”
“My grana said, if you could stick a toothpick in the center of a cake—or, in this case, a pan of brownies—and it came out clean”—she pulled the toothpick out and held it in front of my face—“like this one just did, then you’d know they were ready.”
The toothpick wasn’t clean. It had chocolate on it.
I felt one of my eyebrows rise in question when I said, “Um … That’s not clean.”
Sunny rolled her eyes at me and blew out a big puff of air. “When I say clean, I mean, there’s no gooey bits of brownie on it.”
“But the chocolate is a bit of brownie,” I argued.
Did I really care about the stupid toothpick? No. I just loved riling this girl up. She made it too easy.
She then let out a cute little growl that I was sure she thought was scary and proceeded to explain, “Of course the toothpick will have chocolate on it. There are melted chocolate chips all throughout it. Just trust me. They’re ready.”
“Okay,” I conceded, making sure there was enough uncertainty in my voice to make her head explode.
Sunny gave me this squinty-eyed, scrunched-nosed, sour mouth look before she spun on her heel and stomped to the back of the room, brownies in tow.
“Honestly, Judd, I don’t know what you see in her.”
I looked at the person that scornful voice belonged to and jerked at how close Ashley was standing next to me.
I took a step back and chose not to correct her assumption. I didn’t know why, but it felt wrong to say that Sunny wasn’t mine. We were friends, and she didn’t need someone like me messing up her life any further.
“You know …” she started, her voice quiet and breathy, “we could meet up somewhere and get together like we used to … As long as we keep it quiet.”
Shock had me rooted to the spot. I wanted to look around to see if anyone else could hear this shit, but I couldn’t move.
She must have taken my inaction as an invitation because she moved closer, her voice dropping even further as she whispered, “We were really good together … You were really good.” She casted a quick glance toward my crotch. “The best.”
That brought me back online.
I shook my head then craned my neck toward the brownie table to see what was taking Sunny so long. She stood with her back toward me while she talked to Mrs. Shannon, who had a concerned look on her face.
I heard a throat clear and turned back to the problem in front of me.
I couldn’t believe Ashley wanted to hook up with me, that she would even think I would have anything to do with her after what her and her brother had put me through this year. Not only that, she wanted to make me her dirty little secret.
“You know I can give it better to you than trailer park over there,” she said as she inclined her head toward Sunny and bit her bottom lip.
I felt my own lip curl in response as I made sure to put plenty of space between us.
“Sorry. Actually, I’m not. And I’m not that hard up, which is what I would have to be to let you anywhere near my dick.”
Her face turned red, and she recoiled like I was a snake about to bite her, which was funny since I wasn’t the one with fangs.
“I was just joking. I wanted to see if I could make you believe that I’d ever let you touch me again … Or maybe I just wanted to see if you wore panties like your daddy.”
I just shook my head. “You know, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.” I scanned her from top to toe and tried to see something—anything—that would appeal to me now.
Sure, she was pretty, but that was just the exterior. On the inside, she was toxic, nothing but evil.
Hurt flashed across her face, there and gone in a blink, before her face twisted into a mask of bitterness.
“I know what you saw. Look at me. I’m the best you can and will ever get.”
I laughed. If one good thing came out of what my father had done, it was that it saved me from the clutches of Ashley Klein. Seriously, how oblivious was I in the past to this girl’s damage?
“What’s this now?”
I felt Sunny sidle up next to me, head cocked to the side with a crease between her eyebrows.
“Oh, Ashley was just informing me that she’s the best a guy like me could hope for,” I informed her.
“I didn’t know Ashley did stand-up, because that’s a pretty funny joke.”
The bell sounded for the end of class and the school day, and Ashley stormed past us, knocking Sunny in the shoulder.
“You just wait, skank. You’re going to live to regret getting smart with me.” Then she was gone, drill team girl scurrying behind her.
I was surprised she didn’t back Ashley up with a snotty “Yeah” as she walked by, like all the bullies’ sidekicks do in the movies.
When Sunny and I strolled over to our table to get our things, I remembered something that I had been waiting all day to ask her.
“Uh, I noticed you weren’t in the lunchroom today …”
“Yeah, I don’t eat in the lunchroom anymore.”
“Oh.” I didn’t want to come out and ask her, because that might make me sound like a stalker.
Sunny giggled, and I wondered what she found so funny. I didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s okay, Judd. You can ask me where I go. It’s not like it’s top secret. I mean, how many places can I go to eat lunch?” she said with a small smile.
We were walking out the door when I asked, “So, where do you eat lunch? Don’t tell me it’s in the girls’ bathroom. That would just be gross.”
She made a face that clearly showed her distaste for that idea, and I chuckled. That face was cute on her, too.
“I eat lunch in the library, actually,” she answered, sounding all prim and proper.
“Is this an exclusive thing, or can anyone join you in the library for lunch?”
I could see she was trying not to smile when she answered, “Let me see what I can do.”
Judd
AS ALWAYS, THE FAMILIAR sense of foreboding hit me as I walked through the front door, and I dashed back to my room to stash my backpack and change into my work shirt. If I hurried, I could probably avoid my mom completely today.
I hurried back down the hall and was almost out the door before I remembered I needed money for food. I walked backward until I was even with the kitchen doorway and was able to peek inside.
Empty.
I let out a sigh of relief as I moved toward the fridge and reached for the jar that sat on top of it. More often than not, it was almost empty and I would have to stretch the money I did find inside. We needed groceries, and I was the only one who ever went out and bought them. The school provided all the ingredients we cooked with in class, but for the projects, we would have to come up with that money on our own. I was surprised when I found almost forty bucks.
“You’re going to have to make that last,” my mom slurred.
Dread coiled in my belly at the sound of her voice, and my chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it. She always made me feel that way these days.
I looked over at the microwave to see it was four-thirty. I wondered what had set her off today for her to be blitzed this early.
“I’m leaving town Wednesday night and won’t be back until Sunday.” She then mumbled, “I forgot about that damn AICPA conference in Dallas.”
I perked up at that news. Almost four days without her in the house? Hell yes. However, I kept my face neutral so she wouldn’t change her mind about leaving. If she saw how much I was looking forward to her being gone, she might not leave.
“No parties while I’m gone.”
I snorted. It wasn’t like anyone would actually come if I threw one, but whatever.
She must have honed in on my thoughts because she spat, “What am I saying? We’re outcasts. Your daddy made sure of that!”
I winced. So, it was a drunk bitter day then.
Some days were better than others. She was always a varying degree of drunk, but some days, she was weepy drunk; others she was sweet sleepy drunk. Most days, though, she was bitter drunk. I hated bitter drunk.
“Well, I have to get to work. If I don’t see you between now and Wednesday, have a good trip,” I said as I stuffed the cash in my pocket as quickly as I could before she changed her mind about needing more of that money.
I didn’t spare her another glance as I practically ran from the house and got in my Jeep to get to work on time.
While at work, I had nothing but time to think, since most of what I did were mindless tasks—clearing tables, wiping down tables, cleaning up the occasional spill on the floor, washing dishes, and taking out the trash. They were solitary jobs, and I didn’t have to speak to anyone, except to say okay. I didn’t get to interact much with Sunny, either, since she was busy running around the diner, collecting orders, refilling drinks, delivering food, and cashing people out.
People openly gawked at her face and whispered behind her back after she left their table. She seemed to take it in stride, with her head held high. To my knowledge, no one had said anything to her face, except Sally. Sally fussed all over her before she began marching around the kitchen again, bellowing the things she would like to do to Lonny Blackfox if given the chance. Well, she would have to wait in line. That asshole was mine.
According to the whispers from the dining room, Lonny was still in lockup at the sheriff’s office.
What would I do with my mother out of the house? My first thought was to invite Sunny over, and that was what stuck with me throughout the rest of my shift.
When it was time to clock out, I walked Sunny and the other waitress to their cars before I climbed into my own and made my way home.
I pulled into the drive and parked next to my mom’s Camry. We had always used the garage as a workout room, so neither one of us could park in there.
I sat in my Jeep in our dark driveway a lot longer than I needed to as I tried to psych myself up to get out and go into the house, instead of just backing out and driving until my car ran out of gas. Most days, I just wanted to run away and go to some place where no one knew my name or my dad’s name.
While I sat there, I decided to invite Sunny over Thursday to work on the presentation portion of our baking project and maybe hang out afterward. I knew it was her day off, so maybe Sally might let me cut out early for schoolwork. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. If it went well, maybe I could invite her over again to celebrate finishing up our project. We were going to ace it by the simple fact that Sunny knew her shit in the kitchen.
I also knew that I couldn’t sit in my Jeep all night thinking about Sunny, so I took a deep breath and prepared myself to walk into the house.
Each step I took felt like I had ankle weights attached to my legs. Then I felt my stomach flip and my heart drop as I heard the music playing from the doorway. My mother’s garbled, tearful voice was singing, but it sounded more like shouting Michael Bolton’s “How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?” I knew which kind of drunk she was tonight.
I walked through the unlocked door and found my mother sprawled on her belly on the couch, one hand waving a large bottle of wine while she continued to sing terribly. She didn’t even notice I was there. What if it hadn’t been me? What if it had been a murdering rapist?
I felt my blood turn cold. I might not like my mother right now, but she was the only parent still around, and I loved her.
I crouched down by the couch and touched her shoulder. “Mom.”
She bent her head back and looked up into my face with eyes that were glassy and unfocused, and a face that was puffy and wet from crying. For a moment, she looked at me like she didn’t know who I was, until she whispered, “Oh, Judd.”
The bottle
dropped to the floor with a loud thunk as she wailed, “He left us!”
I looked down at the bottle, prepared to go get some towels to clean up the mess, but nothing spilled out. She had already drunk the whole bottle.
“That bastard,” she mumbled before her head plopped back down. She buried her face into the couch cushion, her whole body heaving in great big sobs.
I left the bottle on the floor and tried to get my mom up so I could get her to the bedroom and into bed. I managed to flip her over, but her body was limp as she continued sobbing.
“Just leave me here to die.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes at her dramatic words. “You’re not dying. Come on; let’s get you up and into bed.”
She sat up, her face the perfect imitation of a toddler’s pout. “Why did he want to be … one of those things, Judd? Tell me why!” she yelled the last part.
“I don’t know, Mom.”
This was not the discussion I wanted to have about my father with her. She never talked about what had happened that night, unless it was to whine, scream, and cry while she was drunk. My mother always acted like he had left her for another woman. I guessed he did in his own way. Except that other woman was himself.
Yeesh. Someone call either Jerry Springer or Dr. Phil.
I managed to get her up on her feet then looped her arm around my shoulders and mine around her waist as I basically dragged her down the hall. That was when the familiar coughing/gagging sound started coming from her, and I tried to double time it to the hall bathroom, but we didn’t make it.
She projectile vomited all over the hall. The sour stench turned my stomach, and I had to fight my own gag reflex.
I took deep breaths through my mouth and closed my eyes. Eff my life.
Once I got her and the hall cleaned up, I took a shower then collapsed on my bed. I thought about texting Sunny, but when I grabbed my phone, I saw that it was after midnight.
I threw it back on the night table and settled into bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. My body was exhausted, yet my mind was too busy to find sleep right away.
