When you’re going somewhere, things are never as painful. You’re literally moving so it’s pretty much impossible to feel stuck. It’s like you never really want to get where you’re going. You just want to stay in the car, on the journey.
You want to feel like you’re on the way to better times.
JUSTINE
“Cheese fries?” I asked Mia, even though it wasn’t really a question. “You need cheese fries.”
I clutched the steering wheel, trying to drive safely in the darkness.
I wasn’t sure if I should tell Mia what I’d seen, or not. Would knowing make it better or worse?
People say the truth will set you free, but I’m not even sure that’s true. They also say ignorance is bliss. It can’t be both, so which is it?
“Okay, yeah,” Mia mumbled, staring straight ahead. “Cheese fries.”
I had to help her, but I had no idea how. What do you do when your best friend’s first boyfriend breaks up with her? What do you say? Especially when you’ve never had a boyfriend yourself.
My heart felt like it was cracking, like a thin patch of ice on the sidewalk. “It’s gonna be okay, Mi,” I said.
She shook her head slowly, like she knew that wasn’t true.
It was quiet in the car after that. I knew she didn’t want to talk.
When you’ve been best friends for as long as we have, you can just tell these things.
I met Mia on the first day of kindergarten. We were assigned to the same table—the green one. Each table in Ms. T’s kindergarten class was a different color.
We had to draw self-portraits with a loved one, and she chose her dad.
“I don’t have a mom anymore,” she said as we colored. “She died a long time ago.”
I remember my throat stinging when she said it. After that I always picked her first when we played Seven-Up. When she asked to share my snack, I said yes every time, even if I didn’t want to.
She didn’t have a mom. She deserved everything else.
“Did you only become my friend because you felt bad for me?” Mia squawked from her sleeping bag during one of our late-night sleepover conversations. We were in seventh grade then, and it seemed like we had so many things to figure out.
“No,” I answered to the darkness. “I mean, maybe a little. I was only five. But it doesn’t really matter how or why we became friends. What matters is that we stayed friends.”
“I guess,” she replied. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
I remember that sleepover specifically because we were so proud of ourselves that we stayed up past two in the morning, just talking.
I turned into the diner parking lot and looked over at Mia again. She was staring out the window, chewing on the edge of her thumbnail.
We walked into the diner, and Gus, the manager, greeted us. “Ladies.” He dipped his head. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Gus.” I smiled and wondered if he could sense that we weren’t our usual selves. Mia stared into space, not focusing on anything in particular.
“No Alexis tonight?”
“Nah, she’s away for the summer,” I answered.
Gus nodded, and we followed him to our favorite booth in the back, by the window. Mia slumped in across the vinyl seat and looked at her phone.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Did he text you?”
“No. I wish,” she said softly, and then rested her phone on the table. “I don’t even understand what happened.”
“Me neither.” I shook my head. “Is it weird that we’re at the diner in our bathing suits and cover-ups?”
She laughed for a second. “Guess we didn’t need to spend so long figuring out these outfits.”
I looked up at the waitress who had come to take our order; she wasn’t one of the regulars. “We’ll have two coffees and an order of cheese fries. Mozzarella. Thank you.”
Mia put her head down on the table, and it was gross, but obviously not our biggest problem. “But I still love him,” she said. “It’s not fair.”
“Mia, pick your head up,” I whispered. “People are looking at us.”
“I don’t care,” she said, but then she sat up. Her hair was in her face, and she pushed it away. “Remember that night when Seth first talked to me? After the band concert?”
I nodded as the waitress brought over our coffees.
“And I totally thought he was just being friendly, how he brought up my Inca village from fourth grade,” she continued. “He honestly remembered my whole project!”
“Yeah, he has a good memory,” I said, my heart collapsing. “Definitely.”
“And did I tell you he said he’d liked me for a while, before we even talked?” She leaned forward. “Since we helped with freshman orientation in September!”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” I said softly.
I had to tell her the truth. Maybe after the cheese fries. Then I’d tell her.
“I just don’t get it.” She sniffled. “I mean, what changed? What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing!” I yelled, louder than I’d intended. “You didn’t do anything wrong! Boys are dumb, and people change their minds sometimes. And it’s stupid. And unfair.”
She sipped her coffee, and then the cheese fries came.
“I can’t eat this,” she said. “My stomach hurts.”
She’d come around. She couldn’t just let a beautiful plate of cheese fries sit in front of her and not eat them. I pulled a fry out and lost some of the mozzarella on the table.
“And remember when he helped my dad with our Wi-Fi?” she asked. “He’s so clueless with that stuff, but Seth didn’t even mind helping him.”
“I know,” I said, burning my mouth on a cheese fry. “That was nice.”
I figured this was what best friends were supposed to do. Listen to all the memories, one after another, and be supportive. If I kept doing it, eventually she’d feel better. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But it wouldn’t be like this forever.
“I thought we were going to be together all summer, and then senior year, and go to prom, and I worried what we would do about long distance when we went to college, but I figured we’d work it out,” Mia went on and on. “I mean, he wants to go to Brown and I’m gonna apply early to Amherst so it’s not that far and…” She slumped forward onto the table again, crying.
I picked one of her golden-brown hairs out of the cheese fries and threw it on the floor. “Mi, I know, it sucks so much,” I said.
“Why even bother liking someone?” She threw her head back. “There’s no point! I’d be better off if I never went out with him!”
Okay, so I wasn’t going to tell her now….
Maybe I’d never tell her. Maybe that’s what best friends do—they protect. But other people had seen what happened, so it was only a matter of time before she’d find out on her own, and then she’d be mad I didn’t tell her.
“No, I mean, he gave you that awesome clarinet cell phone case,” I said, half-shrugging. “That was worth it. You’ll always have band class!”
“Justine!” she snapped, ripping off the case, trying to cut it in pieces with the diner knife. “I know you’re trying to lighten the mood, but stop.”
“You left your heart all vulnerable, and now you’re leaving your phone the same way.”
Mia rolled her eyes, but then she laughed, and finally took a cheese fry.
“And remember that night when you, me, and Alexis went over to his house to study for the history midterm?” she started again. “And he made guacamole! And it was really good. Like as good as Dos Caminos?”
“I remember,” I said. “It was good. He was generous with the lime.”
Mia gulped the rest of her coffee. “And once he quizzed me on science and he kissed me every time I got a question right.”
I swallowed hard and picked at the cheese fries. I let her go on and on and on.
MIA
We were back in the car, on the way to Justine’s house
from the diner, and every few minutes, I’d forget that anything had even happened. I’d go to text Seth, and then I’d remember. I’d put my hair up, and I’d remember again. I’d think about what I was doing next weekend and the weekend after that and the weekend after that. I’d remember and forget and remember and forget.
It was like my brain was still trying to process what happened, so I had to relive it over and over again.
I played all my Seth memories in my head like a photo stream from someone’s vacation.
—
It was just last Friday, eight days ago, when we went to the duck pond after school. We stopped at his house on the way so he could pick up leftover challah to throw in. “Those ducks are hungry and they deserve the good stuff,” he explained to me on the drive over. “I’ve seen people throw in old matzoh. Can you believe that? The ducks don’t want your old matzoh, people!”
I laughed. “Imagine if the ducks could write Yelp reviews.”
When we got to the duck pond, we sat on the bench, right by the edge. Seth’s arm was around me, and I rested my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head. The sun was in my eyes and I’d forgotten my sunglasses, so he let me borrow his Yankees hat. It smelled like sweat and chlorine, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to wear it forever.
“What do you think ducks talk about?” he asked when we were standing by the edge of the pond. “They’re fully communicating right now through quacks. And it sounds important.”
I threw in a mushed-up piece of challah. “I don’t know,” I said. “Arguments over who gets the most crumbs? Unrequited duck love?” I shrugged.
He pulled me in close and swiveled the brim of his hat around to the back so he could get a better angle. And then he kissed me, right there.
“You’re so cute, Mia,” he said, moving back for a second. “And you don’t even realize it.”
Seth Manzell thought I was cute.
—
Justine drove into the driveway, and I was grateful that her house was our sleepover place. She had the bigger room, and her own bathroom. I had to share with my dad. He always got toothpaste on the sink; he rarely remembered to clean it up.
I couldn’t stomach the thought of facing him tonight, of telling him that Seth and I had broken up. My sadness was more than enough; I couldn’t handle my dad’s sadness too.
We went right upstairs and in the safety of Justine’s room, everything felt a tiny bit better. We changed into pajamas and sprawled out on her bed.
“I can’t believe this is how the night turned out for us,” Justine said. “I know this isn’t about me, but I was supposed to be making out with Julian Glazer right now.”
“Yeah, when I couldn’t sleep last night, I was daydreaming about you guys falling in love,” I admitted. “We were going to spend all summer together, the four of us. The Fearsome Foursome or something.”
I didn’t know why I was saying any of this out loud.
As I talked, the painful reality sank in.
It stung.
No Seth. No Us.
No Julian and Justine.
Seth and I had plans, things we were going to do together. We were supposed to be snuggled close on a blanket at the Fourth of July fireworks; we were supposed to master piggyback rides in the pool.
Remember? Remember all these things we were going to do?
It felt like someone had snatched a beach blanket out from under me while I was still sitting on it. And now I had sand in my underwear.
Having Seth for a boyfriend meant that I wasn’t as invisible. I’d go into senior year and actually feel like a person. Someone people knew. Same for Justine and Alexis. One boyfriend in the group meant that the others could have boyfriends eventually too. And we’d be something. We’d have status.
But not anymore. All of that had evaporated.
“Mia, I have to tell you something.” Justine ran her words together and sat up against her pillows. “I am so sorry to be the one to tell you, but you might find out, and I just have to—”
“What is it?” I shrieked. “You’re freaking me out.” I inched away from her on the bed.
“I saw Seth making out with Adia at the party,” she said. “When I went to pee. They were behind the grill.”
“What?” I felt like someone had slapped me. “I saw them walking away from there together. But making out? For real?”
She scrunched up her face like she was in pain. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, and at first I thought they were just talking super close, or maybe someone dared them to kiss, like just being dumb….” She looked away from me and twisted a curl around her finger.
“He hooked up with another girl at the party I was at and then broke up with me!” I screamed. I walked across the room, curled up on Justine’s window seat, and covered my face with the pillow. “How could he do that?”
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Justine said, walking over. “I am so mad that he did this.” She looked up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. “At a party? Where everyone was gonna see and find out, like, right away?”
“Adia Montgomery! She knew I was going out with him, too….And what about Trent?”
Justine raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know. I didn’t see Trent, actually. I guess they’re over?”
I rested my head on her shoulder. “Thank God we don’t have to see any of these people all summer. Maybe they’ll forget by the time school starts.”
“Yeah, and you’re not gonna have much time to think about it anyway,” she added in her take-charge, Justine way. “We start work Monday. We’re gonna be busy.”
“Work? You really call what we’re going to be doing work?” I laughed.
Justine’s lottery-winning uncle had finally decided to pursue his lifelong passion and open up a snow cone shop. Only snow cones. Different flavors. Different toppings. Mix-ins, too. But no ice cream.
Simply Snow Cones: that was his business model and the name of the company.
We were going to be working with his stepson, Justine’s stepcousin, Dennis.
I saw Dennis every summer at Justine’s family barbecues. We never really talked; he was just there, like one of the outdoor chairs. The only real memory I have of him was when we were both at Justine’s Bat Mitzvah. He was trying to get the band to enforce the rules of the limbo competition; so many little kids were cheating and not taking it seriously. Justine was really embarrassed, but I thought he was kind of funny.
“It is work, Mia,” Justine insisted. “Uncle Rick cares about this business.”
She covered her mouth. She was laughing too.
I nodded, but deep down it didn’t matter how busy we’d be, I knew I’d still have time to think about Seth. Because it wasn’t like I only thought about Seth when I had time. I thought about Seth always. It didn’t matter if I had five tests to study for—I still thought about Seth. Even when my grandma was in the hospital and she had a hundred and two fever, and I was pretty worried—I still thought about Seth.
Thoughts of Seth had settled in the very front of my brain. Like they were downloaded onto the laptop of my mind. Saved to the desktop.
One memory after another.
They weren’t going anywhere.
It was going to be a long summer.
A long forever, it seemed like.
—
We slept in Justine’s double bed, side by side, like hot dogs on a grill. At two in the morning, I woke up out of a sound sleep.
Justine was sitting on her bathroom floor, whispering into the phone.
I stayed still. Quiet.
“I mean, how could he do that to her?” Justine said. “And, like, I know this is selfish, but it’s going to take her forever to get over this, and I don’t want to spend all summer with a depressed mope. Can’t you just bail on your dad? Come home, please.”
Alexis.
The third person in our little trio. I guess you could consider us a trio, but when you broke it down, we were really
a duo—Justine and Mia, with Alexis on the side.
That sounded mean—like she was a few mediocre crinkle-cut fries next to a delicious, buttery lobster roll.
We loved Alexis. We really did. But she wasn’t around much. Her parents had split custody during the year, so she spent weekends with her dad, and summers, too. She was already at his summer home in the Catskills and wouldn’t be back until the end of August.
“I never told you this, but I overheard his friends talking about her once,” Justine whispered. “They were all at their lockers, and they were like, Dude, she’s kind of thick. Are you into thick girls? They all started laughing and hitting each other. It was so gross. I mean, Mia’s not even fat! So what if she’s not emaciated like Laurel Peck, who looks like she’s barely surviving a famine! What is wrong with people?”
Justine was quiet, listening to whatever Alexis was saying.
“As soon as Seth knew I overheard, he elbowed them, and they all shut up,” Justine added. “But that doesn’t change what they said. He sucks. So do his friends.”
My heart sank to my toes.
“And Adia Montgomery. Come on. Ew.” Justine groaned. “How could he do this to her?”
It was hard only hearing one end of the call. It was hard hearing the truth.
“I know that, Alexis. I know people break up all the time,” she said. “But this just feels different. What he did is beyond the pale.”
I looked at the clock on Justine’s cable box. 2:07 AM.
And that’s when I decided: I was done being chubby.
Done forever.
I could be a skinny girl if I tried hard enough. Anyone could.
There had to be a way to do it that was smart and sensible. So maybe I’d be a little bit hungry sometimes. I could handle it.
I turned onto my side and tried to fall back to sleep.
JUSTINE
“We’re going to the beach,” I told Mia the next morning. “The ocean air always helps.”
She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. “Okay.”
“Just throw on your bathing suit from yesterday, and we’ll get bagels on the way,” I instructed. “Iced coffees, too. And let’s go to Dream Beach, where we can rent the lounges and umbrellas.”
Kale, My Ex, and Other Things to Toss in a Blender Page 2
