Everything to Me

by Teresa Hill

  She turns to walk away, and I can’t help it—I’m checking out her ass in those blue shorts. I think she catches me when she turns back around and says, “You and Andie—”

  I had my chance. I should have said we were ... Something. Anything. Starting out. Still figuring things out. Any of that would have worked, but I didn’t. I say, “We’re not together, Dana.”

  She looks like she can’t quite believe it. “But, the fight ... ”

  I sigh, trapped by a promise I made to a girl who’s nowhere near as important to me as this one. I get that Andie’s scared of Tripp. I think she probably has good reason to be. I’m not going to stand by and let him hurt her, but I’d rather not screw up my own life, either.

  “We’re not together,” I say finally.

  She looks a little happier, is smiling up at me when I hear footsteps on the stairs behind us. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Andie, her face lighting up as she sees me. “Peter!”

  * * *

  5

  Peter

  Dana steps back from me. The smile leaves her face.

  Andie comes up to my side and gives me a hug. I don’t quite know how to respond. I end up putting my arm around her for a moment, which I guess she takes as an invitation, because she leans into my side and stays there. Standing up on her toes, she puts her mouth nearly on my ear as she whispers, “Thanks so much for the other night.”

  I don’t know if Dana hears the words, but she sees everything and backs away, looking so hurt. Shit. She thinks I flat-out lied to her about me and Andie.

  “Football practice started today?” Andie asks. “I had to rearrange my class schedule, but I’m all done. Are you? What are you going to do now?”

  I don’t know where to even start answering all her questions or what to do with her.

  “Uhh. I have to get back to Dance Team stuff,” Dana says. “See you two later.”

  And then she’s gone.

  Andie waves goodbye to her, and then goes back to leaning into me, but looks a little uneasy as she says, “So, I heard you and Tripp got into a fight after I left.”

  “Yeah, we did,” I say.

  “Is it … People are making it sound like you got into a fight over me. That you two fought because you took me away from him, and that now you and I are together.”

  “I know,” I say. “I didn’t say anything about him hurting you. You asked me not to, and I didn’t.”

  “Thank you, but … you’re okay with that? With what people are saying? About you and me being together?”

  I shrug. What else can I do? I think Tripp might get mad and really hurt her. “People say all kinds of things. It’s no big deal.”

  “It won’t mess anything up for you? I mean, you’re not with anyone? Another girl?”

  “No.”

  “So, you and Dana? I always thought … ”

  Have I made it that obvious, how I feel about her? “No,” I say.

  “Are you two really cousins?”

  I sigh and shake my head. “My sister’s husband is her uncle,” I say. “I don’t know what that makes us.”

  “Family. I guess.” She smiles up at me like she’s happy about me and Dana being related in some way. And Andie’s still really close to me. Her hand lands flat against my mid-section. My muscles contract at her touch as she asks, “So, would you like to hang out some time?”

  “Uhh … I guess so. But I’m pretty busy. I work with Dana’s grandfather and her dad as much as I can, and football practice started this morning.”

  “Well, you went to that party the other night, so you must get out some,” she says.

  “Yeah. Sometimes.”

  “So, next time you have some time ...”

  Next thing I know, I feel her hand high on my right thigh, and even more parts of my body start to react. I realize she’s got her hand down the right pocket of my nylon gym shorts and a second later, she pulls out my phone.

  “Unlock it,” she tells me, and I punch in the code. She smiles at me as she types into the phone. When she’s done, I take it from her before she can put it back in my pocket. “Now you can call me.”

  “Sure,” I say. I might call her. She’s grateful I helped her with Tripp. Maybe it’s more than that. I don’t know. She seems like a nice girl, and it’s not like I’m going to tell her, Sorry, I’m crazy about Dana, but I can’t be with her. If you still want to hang out, we can.

  I hang out with girls sometimes. I fool around with some. I’ve hooked up with a few. I’m an almost eighteen-year-old guy. What the hell am I supposed to do? Never see anyone else, because I can’t have the girl I really want? I try to keep it easy and friendly, but it seems like if you’re with a girl three or four times, she thinks you’re in love. That’s where I break it off. It makes me feel like an ass, but it’s what I do.

  I guess if Andie wants to, we could try that. Who knows? Maybe one day, it’ll work, and I’ll find someone else I want to be with.

  Andie’s still holding onto me and laughing. I don’t know what she said because behind us, Dana is watching us, still looking hurt.

  No way for me to win here.

  In that moment, my life seems impossible. I wonder how long it can possibly go on like this. Me, wanting Dana, unable to have her but unable to get over her enough to have any kind of life without her?

  It used to consume me, wondering about how it would ever end, but I think I know now.

  A year from now, she’ll go off to college, probably Stanford, because that’s what she wants, and the girl is really good at getting what she wants. She’ll work her cute little ass off to make it happen. Fucking Stanford. It’s not Ivy League, but it’s damned close. Some people would say it’s better, because it’s in California, with great weather, the ocean, that laid-back California lifestyle.

  I know one thing. It’s twenty-four-hundred friggin’ miles away.

  I Googled it once, sat there and stared at the little line on the map that might as well have been from one coast to the other. Once she goes, I figure I’ll see her at Christmas and over the summer, maybe a couple of times in between. I can’t imagine that.

  Would it be enough to make me forget her and move on? I don’t know. I don’t even know whether to hope it is or not. I can’t imagine my life without her, any more than I can figure out how we could ever be together.

  Which means, I’m fucked.

  That’s all there is to it.

  Fucked.

  Nothing new about that.

  And as I’m telling myself that, Andie stops talking mid-sentence and presses the whole side of her body to mine. I look at her face, and she seems scared. When I follow her gaze across the school foyer, I see Dana talking to Tripp, who must have just walked out of the gym.

  What the hell?

  “I didn’t know they’re friends,” Andie says.

  “I don’t think they are,” I say, wanting to go over there and drag Dana away from him.

  She laughs at something Tripp says, and I see red. Once, she glances over her shoulder to where Andie and I are, then turns back to Tripp.

  He sees me and Andie, and for a second, there’s an ugly snarl on his face. Andie whimpers, and eases closer to me. I think, Shit, she’s that scared of him? What did he do to her that I don’t know about?

  “It’s okay. He’s not coming over here. If he tries, I’ll handle it,” I tell her, putting my arm around her. And then I wonder about something else. “Did Tripp say anything to you over the weekend? Or do anything?”

  “No. Not really,” she says. “But I was careful.”

  “Careful?” What does that mean?

  “I tried not to go anywhere alone, especially anywhere I knew he’d be.”

  “Shit, Andie, what did he do?”

  “He just … makes me nervous. I don’t know how mad he is. About the fight, or me hanging out with you.”

  “You think he’d take it out on you? Because he and I got into it?”

  “I don�
�t know,” she says. “Maybe.”

  “Dammit, I’m sorry. I never thought that might make things worse for you.”

  “No, it’s … It was really sweet, what you did, standing up for me that way. I’m sorry he hurt you—”

  “Not as bad as I hurt him,” I say.

  She looks at my bruised face, the cut above my eye. Tripp looks like he doesn’t have a mark on him, but I know he does.

  “Believe me, under his clothes, he’s got a lot more bruises than I do,” I say. “If he gives you trouble, let me know. I’ll do what I can.”

  Then she looks up at me like I’m some kind of damned hero. Which I’m not. I just have no tolerance for bullies, especially the ones who get physical with people. I’m not about to explain why.

  Andie presses a hand to my chest and rises up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Thank you. You really are a sweetheart.”

  Again, I see Dana watching us, before she turns back to Tripp and laughs at something he says.

  Shit.

  I want to fly across the gym and beat the crap out of him again, just for talking to her.

  * * *

  Dana

  At first, it’s the hand she presses against his abs that makes me mad. Then, the way Andie plasters herself to his side. But putting her hand into his pocket for his phone? Really? Is she going to feel him up, right here in the foyer at school?

  That’s when something snaps inside of me. I’m furious. I want to go over there and pull them apart, wedge myself in between them like I have the right and tell her to stay the hell away from Peter!

  Of course, I don’t have the right, and I’m not just mad. I’m hurt. It hurts so much.

  He stood right here seconds ago and told me they weren’t together! I’m fuming, trying to make myself look away when I practically bump right into someone. It’s a football guy, because he’s big, his arms are damp with sweat and he’s carrying a duffle bag with our high school’s logo and Football in big, black letters.

  I step back and look up, saying, “I’m sorry,” then freeze.

  It’s Tripp.

  He looks irritated at first, but then I see a really unattractive smirk stretch across his face, like I bumped into him on purpose, like girls do that kind of thing all the time to get his attention. He’s probably waiting for me to stick my hand down the pocket of his shorts, like Andie did to Peter.

  “Dana,” he says. “Lookin’ good. You gonna dance at half-time of my games again this year?”

  His games? Like there’s no team. Just him. Quarterbacks are the most arrogant athletes of all.

  “Dance Team performs at all home football games,” I say.

  “And here I thought you were doing it just for me.”

  “Right. Me and the whole team. Just for you.”

  He laughs, and I intend to walk away. But behind Tripp, I catch Peter’s eyes. He looks furious. God, I hope I didn’t look like that a minute ago when I was watching him with Andie.

  I make myself turn back to Tripp and smile, even laugh a little while he keeps talking. He reminds me of a spoiled little boy. I have no desire to be anywhere near him, but I can feel Peter watching us the whole time, so I make myself stay there, even if it does creep me out a little.

  Tripp finally says he has to go, and I don’t dare turn around to see if Peter’s still there. I walk straight to Becca, who’s giving me an odd look.

  “What was that?” she whispers.

  “Nothing.”

  “Dana, what did he want? What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening. Is Peter still here? Is he watching us? Is Andie still here? Does she still have her hands all over him?”

  “Yes, he’s here, and he’s definitely watching. So is Andie. I think she’s trying to rub a hole in the side of his chest with her left breast.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d go over there and wedge something between them? Like maybe a school bus?” I ask.

  “Dana—”

  “I know. Sorry. She put her hand into the pocket of his gym shorts to get his phone! Who does that? Finds an excuse to stick her hands down a guy’s pocket?”

  “A lot of girls, and you know it.”

  Okay, yes. I do. “It still makes me furious.” His pocket. Her hand. I think I growl a little.

  “Well, you can’t strangle her here at school. It would definitely go on your permanent record, and what would Stanford think about that? Admitting a jealous teen-girl murderer, especially into pre-law?”

  “You’re right. I can’t kill her here.”

  “Take a breath, okay? She’s going to throw herself at him. Big surprise. She’s not the first.”

  No, she’s not. With me and him attending the same school, a lot of the same athletic events and extracurriculars, I see it all. All these girls, all over him. It always hurts, and it always makes me mad.

  This — Andie, now — is worse.

  Maybe because of the fight. Maybe because I think Peter lied to me about her. Maybe because it’s Senior year, and that scary clock is ticking in my head, counting down the days until I leave him for college.

  “Dana,” Becca says, “stop glaring at them, and let’s get back to picking music for Dance Team.”

  “Okay.”

  I’ll pick music. I can do that much. Pretend in that way to be normal, that nothing is horribly wrong.

  But it is.

  I feel reckless, with an urgency that’s bigger than any I’ve ever felt before. Like I have to do something to stop this thing with Peter and Andie, whatever it is. And I have to fix this thing between him and me. I have to.

  This year is my last chance. Everything changes after this. I can’t wait anymore.

  I have to figure out what to do.

  I always know what to do. Except when it comes to Peter.

  My mother says we always have options, that we’re never as boxed-in by circumstances as we think.

  I love my mom. She’s great, and so smart. I could sit down on the couch late one night, put my head in her lap, let her stroke my hair like she did when I was a little girl, and tell her all my troubles.

  I love him, I’d say, and I’m losing him. What can I do? There must be something I can do.

  It wouldn’t be news to my mom. I catch her watching me as I watch him, and I see that look on her face that tells me she knows she’s seeing something important. But she’s never come right out and asked me about him.

  Maybe she’s waiting for me to come to her, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to ask her for advice. I don’t even listen to Becca, not the way I should.

  Because I’m in love, and I’m desperate. I feel him slipping away, so I start grabbing at any ideas I can come up with, even the bad ones.

  I think about something that I know is stupid — trying to make him jealous. Using Tripp to make Peter jealous. Because all I see is what I want — Peter — and I’m going to get him.

  * * *

  Dana

  School doesn’t start for a week, but still it seems like everybody’s here. All the athletic teams, the Dance Team and the marching band are taking advantage of the last few days of practice before classes start. Student Council is working on the back-to-school bash. Teachers are getting their classrooms ready.

  I see Peter every day as he leaves the gym after football practice, because I’m either running Dance Team practice or doing Student Council stuff. Luckily, I’m captain of one and president of the other, so I can set times for both. And if our breaks happen to coincide with the time football practice ends ... Well, I usually call break times, too, especially when it comes to Dance Team. Our faculty advisor seems happy to let me run most of our practices, while she’s somewhere on her phone. Fine with me. I like being in charge.

  Not that it’s doing much good to call our breaks as football practice ends. Andie is either the luckiest girl ever or has highly accurate radar where Peter’s concerned, because he walks out of the gym, and there she is. I’m sta
rting to think she’s hiding around the corner from the gym doors, waiting for him. Becca finally asked her what she’s doing here, and she said she’s helping in the school office.

  Who does that?

  Sure, there are student helpers during school. It’s a way to get out of study hall. But nobody volunteers there when school isn’t in session.

  Still, there she is, every day, hurrying over to Peter the minute he clears the gym doors, doing that stupid, I-just-happened-to-run-into-you-accidentally-on-purpose move that I couldn’t pull off at the party.

  Lately, she doesn’t just walk over to him. She runs, like they’ve been apart for ages and are acting out some scene in a movie. She hugs him, then looks up at him like he’s perfect. She keeps finding excuses to touch him, and she giggles, too. It’s one of those fake, little-girl giggles, which sounds ridiculous and annoying, but Peter doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles at her and keeps talking.

  At first, he’d leave her in the foyer — after a long goodbye-hug, like they were going to be apart for the next decade or so. He goes to work with my dad and my granddad after football practice. But it looks like Andie wised up after a few days of that. Now she’s pretending she needs a ride, and he must be giving her one, because they keep leaving together.

  I fume as I watch it all. Kidnapping is looking good to me. I could lock her up in someone’s basement and have an Andie-free Senior year. I think that’s the only way I’ll ever get to see Peter without her. She has super-glued herself to his side.

  “You’re staring again.” Becca is leaning close and speaking softly as we talk on a break from Dance Team.

  “I know. I want to go over there and tear her away from him. I want to tell her if she touches him again, I’ll knock her down. Or maybe cry. I can’t decide which one.”