The Ordinary Life of Emily P. Bates

by Anna Cackler

  She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “How many of these quotes did Finn write on here?”

  I looked down at the cast. Almost every bit of white spaces available was covered in cramped writing and doodles. “Probably about seventy percent of them.”

  “Hm.” She held it up so that she could read it a little easier.

  “What?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious. Ha! That’s a good one.” She held it up so that I could read: “Political correctness is tyranny with manners. Charlton Heston.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, Finn’s got a bit of an issue with the politically correct.”

  “I see,” she muttered meaningfully.

  “What, Mom?” I asked, but she just shrugged and refused to elaborate.

  After we’d signed the relevant paperwork, Mom and I piled into the car. She backed out of the space and pulled out onto the main road.

  “School’s the other way,” I said, confused.

  “Yeah, but lunch is this way.”

  I was suddenly very suspicious. I peered at her through narrowed eyes. “But we don’t have time.”

  “Nah,” she shrugged. “We’ve got a whole hour to kill before the dreaded calculus is over.” She looked at me and grinned. “Who’s the best?”

  “You are!” I said. “No question.”

  “You know, it’s not really worth it to go to school just for a couple of hours, though. We could just go home and have sundaes for lunch.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “You know I’d love to, but I’ve got a test in civics today.”

  “So blow it off. It’s not every day that you get your cast off.”

  “What’s with you today, Mom?” I asked. “Did you hit your head this morning rolling out of bed?”

  “Maybe.” She sounded rather miffed. “If I had, you’d feel so guilty for being such a jerk about it.”

  “But you didn’t, so I don’t.”

  “All right,” she said in mock disappointment. “I’ll take you to the house so you can get your car after lunch.”

  “No, no!” I disputed. “I’d rather make up a civics test and have sundaes for lunch. Besides, the school still smells like rotten eggs.” I didn’t bother mentioning how little I was looking forward to seeing Finn in Lit class. Mom didn’t need to know about his suspicious conversation with his sister.

  “Great!” she smiled. “Let’s go to the store, then. We need a couple more things before we can make sundaes.”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing big. Just ice cream, chocolate and strawberry syrup, cherries, bananas, whipped cream, and pecans. And some of those long glass bowls made especially for banana splits.”

  I laughed and settle back into my seat. “Maybe I should break my arm more often.”

  “Maybe.”

  Shannon came over that night after supper on the pretence of bringing me my calculus assignment. I knew good and well that she’d had some other reason for knocking on our front door that night, but I didn’t care enough to ask just yet.

  “You could have just called,” I told her as she handed me the paper with the assignment written on it. “I don’t even have my book with me.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, producing her own text book from her bag. “I’ve got mine. I’ll help you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Okay.”

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s go.” She turned me around and pushed me towards the stairs and my bedroom. When we got there, she went straight to my closet to drag out the plastic drawers that contained my nail products.

  “Have you already done this?” I asked, holding up her book.

  “Yeah. Page 208.”

  “Great, thanks.” My words were heavy with sarcasm. I settled myself on the floor as Shannon started perusing through the nail polish and opened the book to the right page. Wonderful, more related rates problems.

  “So you kept your cast, right?” she asked, eyeing my long sleeves. It wasn’t exactly cold, but my arm still grossed me out. “Was your arm gross? I heard that the hair grows a lot when you’ve got a cast.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty nasty.”

  “Let me see!”

  “No. It’s really unpleasant.”

  “Come on!”

  “I can’t do this assignment if you’re going to be bothering me the whole time,” I told her with a glower.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?” she asked warily.

  I looked up at her, dropping the book to my lap with a plop. “What’s going on with Finn and Margo?” I asked, though I knew she wouldn’t answer.

  She looked down at her hands, her eyes wide. “Nothing. Why?”

  “Don’t give me that crap, Shannon,” I said, leaning in. “You were going to tell me something yesterday before the nerd bomb went off, but you never finished. Then Finn yelled at you because you were going to tell me something. And then he said that I was screwed up enough! What’s going on?”

  She looked at me, a pleading look on her face. “You heard that?”

  “Yes, I did!”

  “Well then you also heard me promise not to get involved.” She looked down at her hands again.

  “You’re my best friend, Shannon!” I cried. “We tell each other everything!”

  “Yes you are my best friend, but Finn is my brother! He made me promise to butt out, and that’s what I’m going to do. If you want to know what’s going on with him, you should just ask him yourself!”

  “Fine! Let’s go.” I started to haul myself up off of the floor, but Shannon was on her feet in a flash.

  “He won’t tell you!” she said. “He’ll just say that you’re imagining things and that I’m being stupid. He’s the most freaking noble person we’ll ever know, and he’s more stubborn even than you are!” I glared at her, but didn’t move to get up again. “He won’t give in. He won’t let you think there’s anything wrong if he can absolutely help it.”

  “Well there is something wrong,” I said. “And if it’s wrong enough to screw me up more than I evidently already am then I think I have a right to know about it!”

  “You’re not screwed up, Emily!” Shannon rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not what he meant!”

  “Well then what did he mean?”

  “He’s just worried about you, that’s all. He’s worried that you’re stressing out about this whole Ethan thing and he doesn’t want to add to it.”

  “How could his relationship problems stress me out more?” I asked, getting more and more annoyed by the minute. “And how come you get to know what’s going on? You’re stressing out about Charlie still!”

  “I’m his sister, Emily,” she told me. “I’m always around. I pick up on things, hear things. I just figured the whole thing out.” She hesitated, then added, “Plus Margo told me a couple of days ago. Well, confirmed it, really.”

  “Well, are Finn and Margo still together? Surely you can tell me that much.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I’m not sure. Neither of them has given me a definitive answer. I can say, though, that if it’s not over yet, it will be in a couple of days.”

  “Days?”

  “Or hours.”

  “Talk about your failed experiment.” Sudden pity for my two friends seemed to quench the worst of my own irritation. Unfortunately now I had no idea who had ended (or would end) the relationship, so I didn’t know who to feel bad for.

  Shannon moved back to the bed, but didn’t resume snooping through my nail polish. We both sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us a little overwhelmed by our argument.

  It was Shannon who finally broke the silence. “So, did you keep the cast or not?”

  “Yeah, it’s on that shelf, there.”

  She got up and went to take it down. “Good. There’s a lot of good advice on this thing.” She settled down on the bed and turned my cast over in
her hands.

  I glanced up at her, feeling a little standoffish. I didn’t like that feeling. “So, has Charlie proven his love to you yet?”

  She shrugged. “Not yet.” The look on her face told me this wasn’t a pleasant subject either, so I dropped it.

  Fifteen

  The next day I did my best not to avoid Finn. His “screwed up” comment still stung a little, but I had to take into consideration that he thought Ethan was the one screwing me up. Even so, I couldn’t make myself say much to him during breakfast or lunch. Margo didn’t sit with us either time, so I could only assume that the relationship was finally over. I glanced over at her, trying to see if she looked overly upset, but she was just laughing and talking with Jessica and Rusty like it was any other day.

  We didn’t have much of an opportunity to speak during class either because we were giving presentations on various short stories. Mine was on John Steinbeck’s The Pearl. Finn did his on Edgar Allen Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado. I thought this was very fitting, because it was about a man who got his friend drunk and tricked him into standing still while he walled him up in his basement. Talk about betrayal.

  After class, he followed me out of the door. The brisk wind stung my face and hands, but I loved it. “Take me to work?” he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat.

  “Okay.” I glanced over my shoulder and waved at Shannon, who was jogging across the lawn towards her house, her shoulders hunched against the wind. “I could have taken your sister home, too.”

  “She’s tough.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  “Shannon’s got less than three blocks to walk. I’ve got six.” He smirked and shrugged his shoulders as if to suggest that he had no alternatives to getting to work, though I knew good and well that his two feet would have gotten him there just fine.

  “Just get in the car.”

  He followed orders without complaint. I climbed in while Finn cranked up the heater and turned down the radio so that it was just background noise. I looked over at him, curious. He never bothered turning down the radio unless he had something specific to say.

  “I have something to say,” he said, and for one brief instant I seriously considered the possibility that he could read my mind and always could.

  I shook my head to clear that terrifying idea out. “What?”

  “Margo and I split up.”

  “Oh. I kind of figured that.” I pulled out onto the main road and Oscar groaned under the pressure.

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “What, that she hasn’t been hanging out with us for the past three days? Yes.” I jerked to a stop at a red light and tapped on the wheel impatiently. “Also, Shannon told me.”

  “What did Shannon tell you?” he said, suddenly very serious. Well, no. He’d been serious before. Now he was several steps up from that. Intense. Focused. He was always so damned focused.

  I glanced over at him, more than a little resentful that my two best friends were keeping secrets from me. “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me why. And I won’t ask, either.” The light changed and I stepped on the gas.

  “What do you mean, you won’t ask?”

  “I mean you obviously don’t want me to know, so I won’t ask.” We were in front of the library now, and I double parked right in front of the door and waited for him to get out.

  “Emily, it’s not that I don’t want you to know,” he began, but I cut him off.

  “No, no. I know. You’re just being noble. Shannon explained that much.” I stared straight ahead through the windshield. Someone in a white Ford was stuck behind me, but I ignored them. “I can’t imagine why, though. After all, I’m only your best friend.”

  “Exactly.”

  The finality in his voice caught my attention, but by the time I turned to ask what he’d meant, he’d already gotten out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. I watched him walk up to the library, the wind whipping at his coat and hair, and disappear inside. I was so thoroughly confused now that my head hurt.

  The Ford behind me honked, and I jolted back to the here and now. I shoved the car into gear.

  Ten minutes later I pulled into my driveway and parked directly behind Dad. He never went anywhere anyway. “How ya feeling today?” I asked Mom as I dropped my bag on the floor. I went over and sat by her on the couch.

  “Bloated,” she said. She was watching a special on penguins on TV, but she didn’t seem terribly interested in it.

  “Well good news,” I said, “you look like you feel.”

  “Shut up.”

  I plopped down on the couch beside her. “No seriously. You’ve really put on some weight. Like more than I think you’re supposed to.”

  She turned and glared at me. “I can’t wait until you’re pregnant, Emily Prudence Bates, because I will be merciless.”

  “Eh,” I shrugged. “Whatever you think is fair.” I was serious. I thought pregnant women weren’t supposed to put on more than a couple of pounds per week. Poor Mom looked like she was gaining at least five at a time. I decided not to push the issue, though. No sense in upsetting her.

  The phone rang and we both jumped.

  “I’ll get it.” I pulled myself up and snatched the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Em. Why’d you run off so fast after school?”

  I froze. It was Ethan, and he sounded overly cheerful as usual. How could someone be so perfect and so irritating at the same time? “Oh, hey,” I managed to get out. “I, uh, had to take Finn to work. What’s up?”

  “Not much. I just wanted to ask what you were doing Saturday.”

  Crap! Crap, crap, crap! “Uh, nothing. Why?”

  “You and I should go out. How’s dinner and a movie sound?”

  It sounds terrible. And overdone, come to think of it. “Ah, well…”

  “Well what?” I could hear his smile fading in his voice.

  But then I remembered something wonderful. “I can’t. My mom and I are going shopping. Maternity clothes. She’s getting pretty fat now.”

  “Shut up!” Mom called from the living room.

  “Oh,” Ethan said, sounding bright again. “Well then what about Friday? There’s a new thriller playing that I’ve been wanting to see.”

  Another thriller? “I--I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  I gritted my teeth, wracking my brain for anything to say. Anything at all. Finally I opened my mouth and the words just spilled out of my mouth like vomit. “Ethan, we’re just friends, right?”

  Yup. Vomit. They even left a terrible taste in my mouth.

  Silence pounded through the receiver. I waited for almost a full minute before finally saying, “Ethan? We are, right?”

  “Evidently so.” The grin was gone from his voice, and that made me even sicker. I had hoped against hope that he would be all right with this, but I ruined all of that with my word vomit.

  “I just mean, we haven’t gone out in almost two months.” I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “And we don’t even hang out much anymore.” Again I waited. Again he said nothing. “I just don’t see where this is going, that’s all.”

  “Yeah.” Finally! Finally he’d responded. Maybe he was going to be accepting after all.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You’re such a great guy.”

  “Not great enough,” he stated blandly. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”

  Click.

  Aaron came around the corner and opened the fridge. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  “Oh nothing. I’m just the most horrible person on the planet, that’s all.”

  “Well I could’ve told you that.”

  I scowled at him and went back to sit with Mom. At least she would be nice to me.

  “I can’t believe you!” Shannon shouted at me the next morning at breakfast. Finn was home sick so it was just the two of us. “I told you not to do
it over the phone, you moron!”

  “I couldn’t help it!” I felt miserable. My stomach grumbled, but I didn’t feel like waiting in line for breakfast. “He kept asking me out! I had to cut my losses!”

  “You could have told him you’d discuss it today!” She pushed her half eaten donut away from herself and crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t say ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ did you?”

  “No! I swear I didn’t. I just told him the truth. I said we never went out anymore and that we didn’t even hang out at school.”

  She made a face at me. “If you had any other friends in this school, I would totally stalk off and leave you to your misery.”

  “I’m not miserable.”

  “But he is!”

  “And I do too have other friends!”

  “Like who?”

  “Finn.”

  “Finn doesn’t count.”

  “Fine, Margo.” I eyed her donut, wondering if she was going to finish it or if it was up for grabs.

  “Margo doesn’t count.”

  “Well who does count?”

  “You name another friend and I’ll tell you if they count.”

  I glared at her. “Well fine. At least now you can set up Ethan with what’s-her-face in Spanish class.”

  “Maggie,” She began picking at her donut. Dang. No breakfast. “You really should try to assert yourself more into the social scene. Maybe then you’d be able to remember people’s names.”

  “That’s all right. I’d rather just be alone. It’s pleasant.”

  “And boring.”

  “Maybe to you.”

  “Ms. O’Malley.”

  We both turned to find Mr. Duvall, the vice principal, standing behind us.

  Shannon hastily wiped her hands with her paper napkin. “Yes?”

  “You’ve got a--uh, package at the office.”

  “A package?” Shannon turned to me, but I just shrugged. She got up to follow him, and I quickly gathered up my things as well. There was no way I was going to miss this.

  Why did they send the vice principal to give Shannon a message? Mr. Duvall looked irritated, too, like even he thought he was above messaging services. He led us both through the cafeteria and down the hall, shaking his head and muttering to himself the whole time.