Liars and Losers Like Us

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Liars and Losers Like Us Page 9

by Ami Allen-Vath


  “For you, no wait.” She waves for us to follow. “Right this way Mr. Mills.”

  As I slide into the booth, a scene from last time I was here flashes in my head—me trying to avoid Chip’s stare and listening to Sean sing and play guitar. Ugh.

  “Who’s this guy?” I point over to the longhaired guy in an ACDC T-shirt singing about dust in the wind.

  “That’s the regular guy, Ace,” Sean says. “He’s pretty badass on the acoustic and electric. He’s in a band that actually does gigs. Pretty cool.”

  “What about you? Are you going to do more with your music or football next year?”

  “I only got offered a couple partial scholarships for football, so I’m not going anywhere. Just L.C.C.”

  “I’d hardly call Lakeville Community College ‘anywhere,’ since that’s where I’ll be too.”

  “Nice.” His face brightens as he leans back into the booth. “It seems like everyone’s doing their best to get out of here. I plan on it, but I’m not in a rush. I’ll get my associate’s and maybe move to Nashville where I can make music contacts and hopefully get a good internship.”

  “Nashville? Does that mean you want to be a country singer?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m more rock with a pop, country, and blues influence. I’m into a lot of different styles right now but I have a lot to learn. One thing I do know is that I want to write music. Guitar and singing, sure, but I want to write songs for everyone, write across genres—and maybe a few that my mom will sing along to on KDWB.”

  “That’s really cool. Do you write a lot of stuff now?”

  “Yep. I’m not saying it’s Grammy material or anything, but I’ve written a lot lately.”

  “Oh, okay. Hmmmm,” I say, running my finger back and forth between the sushi and entrée menus, remembering how he asked for help with his poetry assignment. If he can write songs, there is no way he needed my help for Nord’s class. The only thing I can do to hide the gigantic smile pulling on the corners of my mouth is to keep talking. “Well, maybe I can be your manager or at least the girl screaming all the words in the front row. I like your plan better than mine. My big plan is to not have a plan right now. But I’m okay with it. And I’m glad I’ll see you in school.”

  After dinner, I drive us to my house. The first thing I see when I click our garage door open is that Mom’s car is gone.

  “Guess my mom actually did go out. Wow.” I dial Mom’s number as we head inside. I leave a message saying that Sean and I are hanging out here. “So don’t come home and embarrass me,” I whisper into the receiver and hang up.

  There’s a yellow Post-it stuck to the counter:

  Bree!

  Went out with work friends.

  Be home later.

  Hope you had fun with Sean!!!!

  Love, Mom

  Next to Sean’s name she’s drawn a heart and smiley face. Of course my face gets hot and I quickly flip the note over.

  “A heart and a smiley face? Guess your mom has a crush on me,” Sean says as I glance up to him hovering over my shoulder.

  “Oh ummm, yeah, I guess she just figures, um that, yeah whatever. She’s totally embarrassing.”

  “Guess we’re even on embarrassing moms, right?” Sean asks, then continues, “Well, the reason my mom said that stuff about Prom was because, well …”

  My phone interrupts. Kallie’s ringtone. My heart jumps. The fire engine ringtone gets louder as I rummage for my phone. Ridiculous. My purse is big but not that big. I look like a moron, not being able to find a loud blaring vibrating phone. Sean’s half smiling with his eyebrows raised. My phone stops singing the exact second I pull it out of my purse.

  “Got it!”

  One Missed Call

  KALLIE VATE.

  “Missed it,” I say. “I’ll call her later.”

  “It’s okay,” Sean says. “I don’t care if you want to call her back now. Go ahead.”

  “I don’t know. I kind of need to—want to—well, it’d be best if I heard what she has to say first.”

  Sean’s mouth crinkles. “That makes sense. But not.”

  The urge to get his opinion on the whole Kallie stuff overrides my whole “wait until you tell Kallie first” plan. “I’m going to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

  Sean’s mouth stays crinkled. “Um, okay.”

  “Do you want something to drink first?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  “Well,” I say rummaging through the fridge, “I got Diet Coke, organic green tea, almond milk, or OJ? Or water?”

  “Coke is fine.”

  I grab two Cokes and give him the whole story of Todd and Jane, omitting the visual of my ear suctioned to the wall for every detail. I let him know that Todd trying to call me was most likely him trying to save his ass.

  Sean pauses for a minute. “Interesting, and kind of gross. I guess that’s why Todd called me asking if we wanted to hang with him and Kallie tonight. I didn’t think Todd was like that. And Jane. I knew she was obnoxious and had some issues, but not like that. If any of the guys were ever messing with my girlfriend … shit. Molly would go crazy if she found out.”

  “Molly?” I ask. “That’s nothing. Kallie’s gonna snap. If it weren’t for Molly still being so hung up on Todd, Jane would’ve told everyone. She’d love to throw that in Kal’s face. Jane was so pissed that night—from the sounds of it, Todd’s been sort of leading her on. So, yeah, you’re right. Gross.”

  Sean and I try to come up with a crazy scheme to have it all come out without me having to be the bad news bearer. We come up with a couple of ideas that, when examined further, would never work unless we were in a movie. Like, what if we send an anonymous note to Kallie and Molly. Or somehow get Jane, Molly, and Kallie into an elevator together; lock them in, until Jane tells everything. After realizing that I’m pretty much forced to tell Kallie, we decide to watch a movie. As we look through the shelved movies, I punch Sean lightly in the shoulder.

  “Thanks for trying to help me out with the Kallie drama. Sorry you’re kinda in the middle with your friends.”

  “No worries,” Sean laughs. “It’s my fault. I was the one who wanted to go to that party. But I guess that’s the way it is. Sometimes you go to a Belmont High party and it’s fun and sometimes you go and find out that the idiots you hang out with are actual idiots. And then they puke on you.”

  We decide on an old movie, Stand By Me, when Sean says he’s never seen it. We sit on the couch leaving enough space for two people to sit in-between us. As the movie starts I alternate between ideas on how to scoot closer to Sean and ideas on how to talk to Kallie. After laughing at a few of the spots where I usually laugh (I’ve seen this movie about fourteen times) I ask Sean if he wants popcorn. I’m sure we’d have to sit closer if we’re sharing a bowl of popcorn.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m fine, unless you want some.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just didn’t want to be a crappy movie host.” My shoulders slump in defeat as I pull my legs up on the couch to cross them. Might as well get comfortable. Way over here. My lips twitch as I force myself not to frown.

  “Total change of subject here,” Sean says, “but what kind of cat do you have?”

  “Cat?” I ask. “I don’t have a—ohhhh yeah, that cat. Yeah, ummm …”

  “––Because I’m allergic to cats but my eyes aren’t itchy or anything. I just realized that I’m not sneezing either.”

  The only lies I can come up with would be that my cat died and we had the carpets deep cleaned or I have one of those scary looking hairless cats. I run my palms, already sweating, along the sides of my jeans.

  “Well,” I start, “actually, maybe you’ll find this funny.” I meet his eyes for a second before taking special interest in the seam of the pillow I’ve stuffed into my lap. “I don’t even have a cat. I was trying to leave a … I wanted to change my message and can we just say that I’m horrible with leaving voicemails?” Clamping my
mouth shut, I lift my head for his reaction.

  He laughs. “Sure. I should confess something too. If I do we’ll call it even?” He thrusts his hand forward for a handshake.

  Any kind of touching is better than none, so I take it. “Ummmm, yeah, okay. Deal.”

  He pulls our linked hands into the space between us. “I didn’t really need any help with the poetry writing stuff.”

  “Really? Why?” I ask. In my best interest, I hold back using my fake surprised face.

  “I was just trying to hang out with you.”

  “Well, I did think it was interesting when you told me earlier that you write songs.”

  Sean squeezes my hand tighter and looks up with a smile that makes me want to just lean in a little farther and––

  “I wasn’t sure how to ask you out. You’re not the most approachable girl in the school, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that line before. Sorry?” I really don’t know how to respond. He’s so damn cute, even though his eyes, like aquamarines, are practically pulling off the layers of my cornea, begging for some sort of answer. Which is unnerving. I mean, maybe he’s right about me being unapproachable, but there’s also practically a mini-airplane flying overhead pulling a sign that reads: She’s so into you.

  My stomach is aerial-cartwheeling while my bottom lip is clamped between my teeth so I don’t say the wrong thing. The only way to delete some of the weirdness going on right now is if we kiss.

  Wetting my lips without being super noticeable, I scoot my legs and butt over. Going for it. I pull my hand from his and move it to his shoulder, feeling the warmth beneath his snug gray T-shirt against my palm. He reaches out and cups the curve of my waist. The background noise from a movie we’re not watching fades into nonexistence. Our eyes lock like magnets as the space between us gets smaller. The excitement, the anxiety, the neediness burns and tingles through my core. I grip the couch cushion as I continue leaning forward while his eyes shine, then blur as they move parallel to mine. My eyelids fall and a spark rushes through me as our lips meet.

  The slam of my kitchen door being closed from the garage echoes into the living room. As if our lips actually are on fire, Sean and I jerk back.

  I jump up. “Omigod, my mom.” I whisper, “Um, sorry. Sorry.” I do a backward jog and dive into the chair next to the couch. “Moooom?” I call. “You home?”

  She appears in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “Hey, you forgot to close the garage, hon. Good thing I’m not some serial killer looking for teenagers to—”

  “Okay Mom, sorry.” I say. “This is Sean.”

  Sean rises from the couch and walks over to her, extending his hand.

  “Sean. Nice to meet you Mrs. Hughes.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. I remember you. The singing guy from Azumi. I’m in-between last names right now, you can call me Brenda. You guys watching a movie?”

  “Stand By Me,” I answer, with a slight nod, making urgent eye contact with her. “Unfortunately you’ve already seen it, sooooo?”

  “You bet. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything. Just right upstairs,” she points upward as she walks up the stairway.

  Sean stifles a laugh. “Your mom’s pretty cool. She’s funny, like you.”

  “Thanks. Cool, funny, and yet, so embarrassing.” The assertiveness I had just before my mom got home fades into a light shade of shy, which freezes me on the chair I’d jumped into.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Sean shuffles around on the couch, moving his leg, tapping the armrest, but he doesn’t say anything. I talk myself into getting out of my seat and going back to the couch about twelve more times, but my body never actually moves.

  The movie eventually fades to the main character in a scene as an adult, hanging out with his kids, and then the credits roll.

  Sean stands and leans against the armrest. “That was a good movie. I’m officially appointing you to be in charge of picking out movies for us from now on.”

  From now on. Pretty sure my heart just skipped and swooned heavily to the right.

  “Too bad you hung out on that chair the rest of the movie. It was kind of cold over here.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “I just got kind of thrown off by my mom walking in when I was trying to kiss you.”

  “Whoa, hey. I was trying to kiss you.”

  I smile. “No, I’m pretty sure that was all me. I was about to kiss you.”

  “Well, I guess it’s not how you start but how you finish. Something like that.”

  I smile and imagine jumping on him, pushing him back onto the couch, and finishing the kiss. Instead, I make my way over to the bottom of the staircase.

  “Hey Mom,” I call up. “I’m going to drive Sean home, okay? Be home in a little bit.”

  “Drive safe!” she calls from her room.

  After I put my car into park in Sean’s driveway, he lays his hand on mine. “I had fun tonight. Sorry about all your drama.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I say. “I had fun too. Sorry my mom came home so early.”

  “Soooo,” Sean says, “About that. I think I owe you.”

  “Yes,” I say. “My prize. You do owe me. That lucky rubber band was stolen by Molly’s stinky hair.”

  “That’s on you, Bree.” The way he says my name pulls me, kills me, grips my heart something crazy. “You better get that back.” He grins. Then he does a sideways lean into me from the passenger seat. He slides his hand down my hair, then beneath my ponytail at the nape of my neck. His lips press against my bottom lip and my body sighs. My lips melt into his. It’s like tiny sparklers are shooting around inside my body. I try to keep my breathing steady although my heart races as his hand moves down my back, probably leaving fire-prints beneath my shirt. His lips are smooth and light across mine. He inhales deeply as he slowly pulls away.

  Exhaling, he says, “I guess I better go. Before my mom comes out here asking if we want a snack or something.”

  “See you in school Monday?”

  “Yep. Maybe I’ll give you a call tomorrow too, if that’s okay?”

  “Yes. Have a good night,” I say to his back as he exits the car.

  He turns and winks, “You too, Breezy.”

  He waves one last time before going into his house. My lips stretch into a smile that lasts me all the way home and into Sunday morning. Best. Night. Best. Weekend. Ever.

  TWELVE

  Still inhaling the glow left over from my time with Sean, this morning has me refreshed and ready to conquer my phone call with Kallie.

  “Finally, you call me back,” Kallie says without even saying hello first.

  “Well hi to you, too.”

  “Hi. What’s up?” Kallie asks.

  “Kal. You called last night and didn’t leave a message. You go first.”

  “Okay, but only because it’s been a while since I’ve said it first.” She half whispers, “Sorry.”

  “Who said that? Do you have a tiny little mouse over there? I barely heard the guy. What’d he say?”

  “Omigod Bree,” she laughs. “I’ll kill you. You heard me.”

  “I know, I’m kidding. I’m sorry too. Really.”

  I think we both sigh into our phones at the same time.

  “So,” I say, not wanting to get into anything good or off topic until I spit it out. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Ugh. I already know. Todd told me.”

  “Really? About Jane?”

  “You mean Molly. Yep. He said you guys were at Monroe’s Friday and she was all over him and you probably saw. Todd said you guys were all pretty wasted so he hoped you didn’t get the wrong idea. It was all Molly. It might’ve looked bad but Todd swears he didn’t touch her. I believe him. I should believe him, right?”

  “Um, yes and no.” I take a deep breath and begin pacing my bedroom. “What’re you doing right now? Wanna come over? I bet I can get my mom to make us pancakes?”

  “I can’t. I gotta work. I
swear every kid and their cousin has a birthday party this weekend. I need to get in early and help set up.”

  “Okay, well …”

  “Dude,” she says. “Just tell me.”

  “Okay, first thing, you’d tell me if your mom was sick right?”

  “Omigod, of course. I’m not like you, Bree. If shit’s going down, you’ll hear about it. My mom’s fine. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I know. Here’s the thing, I didn’t have anything to drink at the party, just so you know. But, I heard Todd tell, okay, well, Todd and Jane were talking and … Okay, not so much as talking but—”

  “Wait. You mean Todd and Molly, right?”

  “No. I mean Jane. Jane fucking Hulmes. So, I overheard them and apparently they have a thing going on.”

  “Wait,” Kallie’s voice cuts through the phone. “Todd and Jane would never have a thing. He can’t stand her. He’s always talking about how crazy and bitchy she is. He actually avoids hanging out anywhere she’s at. Plus, what about Molly? She’s still in love with him. Jane knows that. Best girlfriends don’t fuck with each other like that. C’mon—I think you’re reaching here,” she says.

  “No, I’m not. I heard them. Jane doesn’t care about girl code and I’m pretty sure they had sex and Todd told her that your mom’s dying so he can’t break up with you.”

  “Bree, that’s nuts. Todd would never say anything like that about my mom. It’s psycho. Did you actually see them together?”

  “Not exactly, but I heard them.”

  “Right. There were so many people there and it was someone else. Jane probably sleeps with a lot of guys and I wouldn’t put it past her to be screwing someone else’s boyfriend. But not mine.”

  “No, it was def—”

  “Listen, I gotta get going. I’ll ask Todd if you want, but I know you’re wrong. I feel like you think the worst about people just because of who they hang out with. Todd actually likes you.”

  “Well, why would he be calling me yesterday then?”

  “Because of me. You know what? He told me you and Sean Mills were hanging out at that party, and are, like, dating, or something. It was real shitty to hear that kind of news from someone else besides you. Because, since Todd is such an evil person, he said you and I shouldn’t be fighting. And that we should call to see if you guys wanted to double date.”

 

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