by Amy Sparling
“Well it must be a random act of violence then,” Mr. Poe says. His graying eyebrows pull together. “Kids these days get jealous of people having nice things. They probably don’t even care who owns the truck and just wanted to be heathens.”
Ethan’s shoulders tense while his dad keeps rambling on, dissecting today’s youth and how they don’t have respect for anything. Mrs. Poe is taking pictures of her plate, probably for her blog or Instagram and she doesn’t seem to care that her son’s very expensive truck was smashed to bits in the parking lot.
Ethan sighs. “Dad, it’s none of that. It was Kennedy.”
Now Mrs. Poe looks interested. “What makes you say that?”
“Because she hates me for breaking up with her.” He pushes his plate away and drops the fork on top of the uneaten pasta. “I know it was her but they said there’s no evidence so they’re not doing anything about it.”
“Oh honey, you don’t know that for sure. It was probably random like your dad said.”
He chuckles sarcastically. “Mom, I know my life. It was Kennedy. She’s pissed at me for breaking up with her and for not going with her to prom and now it’s not good enough to blast me online she had to blast apart my car as well. You don’t have to believe me, but it is what it is.”
Mrs. Poe’s eyes widen. “Blast you online?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Speak to your mother with respect,” Mr. Poe says, his dominating voice booming over the dinner table. Even Dakota flinches and she’s not the one being yelled at. “You can think whatever you want about who smashed your truck but I’m the one shelling out the higher insurance cost from now on. If you really think the girl did it, then maybe you should stop dating crazy airheads.”
Mrs. Poe chuckles. “That is some solid advice, honey.”
“No need to worry about that,” Dakota says. She takes a sly sip of her sweet tea and looks at Ethan and me. “I don’t think his next girlfriend will be nearly as crazy as Kennedy.”
“Next girlfriend?” Mrs. Poe lifts an eyebrow. “Aren’t you two . . ?”
Mr. Poe clears his throat. “Not while they’re in the same house, I should hope.”
Flames burst over my skin as Mr. Poe’s insinuation proceeds to embarrass the hell out of me.
“We’re just—” I begin, but Ethan finishes for me when I can’t think of how to end my sentence.
“Dating,” he says, throwing me a sly grin. “But we’re taking it slow, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”
Dakota giggles and Mrs. Poe looks up from her phone. “I knew it!” She points a manicured finger toward her husband. “You called it like ten years ago.”
“Called what?” Mom asks, walking into the room in her Hello Kitty scrubs. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of her head.
“I thought you were working late?” I say at the same time Mrs. Poe says, “Our kids are dating.”
Mom’s smile goes all the way to her eyes. “It’s about time,” she says, ruffling my hair as she walks by. “We called that a long time ago,” she says, giving Mr. Poe a high five.
She drops her purse on the counter and gets a plate from the cabinet. I’m not sure if it’s medically possible to blush so much that your skin melts off, but it might be a good idea to throw a pitcher of ice water on my head right now, just in case.
We’ve just pretty much admitted we’re an official couple to our family and they’re all laughing about it like they knew it all along. I sink down into my chair and Dakota meets my gaze. “Remember a long time ago when we used to plan out your wedding to my brother?”
“Oh my god, let’s not talk about this,” I say, eyeing the ice water in the middle of the table.
“Wait, I want to hear,” Ethan says. Mom joins us at the table and fills her plate with the veggie pasta.
“Let’s not talk about weddings, okay? Ya’ll are way too young. But I do have great news, Ella. Your dad and I found a rental house.”
I force a smile. A few weeks ago I would have been over the moon to move out of Ethan’s house, but that was—of course—when I hated him. Now the idea of not having him down the hallway at night makes me sad. Of course, I realize that normal high school seniors don’t get to live with their boyfriends. Still, it was fun while it lasted.
“Where is it?” I ask, twirling my fork around in my food.
“Over by the lake on the west side of town. It’s a two bedroom, but we really don’t need more than that.”
Two bedrooms? We had four bedrooms before the tornado took them all away. “Cool,” I say. I know my parents are trying hard to get us back on our feet. But I also know that Kennedy will have a field day if she discovers that we’re living on the west side of town.
Only four more weeks of school left. We can handle this.
Ethan wraps his arms around me once we’re back in the rec room after dinner. “I’m going to miss you when you move out,” he whispers into my ear.
The close proximity makes my whole body warm. I slide my hands on top of his and let my head fall back against his chest. I’ll miss you, too.”
He takes his laptop off a nearby table and opens it, balancing it on his knee while he sits on the armrest of the couch. “Am I the only one who thinks it’s kind of weird how our parents handled finding out that we’re together?”
“No, that was definitely weird.” I sit on the couch and pull my knees up to my chest. “It’s a little weird that they know. Like, are they going come barging in here constantly to make sure we’re not hooking up?”
Ethan shrugs. “So tell me more about this childhood wedding planning you did.”
I punch him in the arm and roll my eyes. “Not happening.”
He chuckles, his face lighting up from the glow of the computer. “You sold thirty-five more shirts today, babe.”
I sigh and sink into the couch. “So, you know how I said we should just let it go with the Kennedy thing?”
Ethan plops down onto the couch next to me and I put my feet in his lap. He puts his laptop on top of my feet. “Let me guess . . . you don’t want to let it go?”
“What if we make it easier for people to get the shirts? Maybe tell everyone to wear them on the same day, just to piss her off.”
“How would we make it easier?” he asks.
“Let’s set the price as low as it goes. Zero profit.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You sure?”
I nod. “Then we’ll blast the info all over the internet and ask everyone to buy one.”
“I have a better idea,” Ethan says, narrowing his eyebrows at the computer screen. “They have an option to make the profits go to charity. Let’s keep it the same price but have the funds be donated to . . .”
He scrolls through a list of charities and I lean forward, looking over his shoulder. “Dogs!” I point at the screen, choosing a charity that supports homeless animals.
Once it’s all set up, the webstore page for the shirt has big charity logos all over it, making it clear that 100% of the profit goes to support shelter animals.
It’s cathartic, being a bitch to the supreme bitch, and as I make the social media post on both Ethan’s and all of my accounts, I don’t feel the least bit guilty at all.
Is your ex-girlfriend a total dog? Buy this shirt and support more dogs like her. But the good news is that, unlike your ex-girlfriend, these dogs are actually capable of being loved!
Chapter 27
This probably makes me a bad person, but last night I kind of eavesdropped on Ella’s conversation with April. Toby and I had gotten together to shoot hoops after school since Ella was spending the afternoon with April. When I got home and showered, I forgot to see if she was still here before I walked up to the rec room door. It was cracked open just an inch so my intentions were good. I was going to knock and see if Ella wanted to watch TV. But then I overheard them talking and yeah, I should have left.
But I didn’t.
That’s
how I heard Ella reveal to her best friend that she’s torn because although she wants that beautiful pink dress more than anything (even more than new baking supplies, she’d said) she didn’t want to spend the money.
April told her all the reasons to buy the dress but Ella said it was pointless to waste so much money on something she’d only use once. Then they’d started taking about prom and how Ella feels like she doesn’t even want to go if she’ll spend the whole time worried about money.
So yeah, I had done a bad thing by listening to her private conversation, but now I have an idea. I text Toby the plan so that he knows to go along with the lie after school.
The next day is pretty chill as far as days go. There are a lot of T-shirt sales but Kennedy still isn’t in school, so I haven’t had to face her wrath yet. Of course, Ella and I hope she’s learned her lesson and will just freaking stop already.
After school, I take Ella’s hand and begin my made up story.
“Yeah so bad news.” I heave a sigh and give her this disappointed look.
She’s wearing one of my WCHS football shirts over a pair of black leggings and I’d thought it was the sexiest thing ever until she looks up at me with those trusting eyes and that beautiful smile.
“What kind of bad news? You don’t have fire coming out of your ears so I’m guessing it’s not about you-know-who.”
I chuckle. “Nope, but Coach is making us run some extra practice as punishment so I have to head back to the school after we drop you off.”
“Oh.” Her features relax. “Well that’s not a big deal.”
Toby joins us as we walk out into the parking lot. “Poe, you ready for those extra drills?” he says, sounding exactly as if he had rehearsed our lie fifty times before saying it. “Man, it’s gonna suck.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
Ella points toward the school behind us. “Toby, you don’t have to take me home. I can just wait around until you’re done.”
“No can do,” he says. “I wouldn’t cause that kind of suffering on my best friend’s girl.”
“Yeah, we have no idea how long it’ll take,” I say. “Toby doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” he says with a smile.
She doesn’t look like she agrees with the extra trip, but I don’t think she suspects me of being a liar.
We drop her off at my house and I’m surprised to see both Ella’s mom and her dad talking in the driveway. Those two are never off work at the same time.
After executing the perfect lie for my perfect girlfriend, Toby drives me to the Galleria.
“So tell me again what you’re doing, Poe?”
“I’m buying her the dress she wants to surprise her.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Toby scowls when a Taylor Swift song starts playing on the radio and changes the station. “Aren’t girls like hella picky about that stuff?”
“Ella’s not. She knows the dress she wants so I’m getting it for her.”
Toby shakes his head like he can’t believe how weird I am right now. “Well aren’t you just the extra romantic guy.”
I find Dress Fantasy and feel even more awkward than I’d imagined I would when I walk into the frilly store. There are dresses and mannequins everywhere and mannequins wearing dresses, and even real women wearing them, too. Because it’s so close to prom, a ton of teenage girls are in here picking out dresses. To say that Toby and I stand out would be an understatement.
All of the store clerks ignore us as we walk around, probably assuming we’ve been dragged here by one of the girls. I’m able to find the dress in the store and after showing Ella’s picture to the clerk, she guesses what size dress she’ll need. I’m feeling like the greatest guy in the world when we leave the mall. So what if I look like a weirdo carrying a big ass garment bag.
I already have a prom-worthy tux, thanks to my mom getting me one when there was a sale at Men’s Warehouse. Toby and I make another stop and split the cost of a limo to surprise the girls. I’m pretty sure they’re thinking we’ll be driving our own trucks.
I’ve never cared much for prom or all of the crap that goes into it, but now that I’ve got Ella’s dream dress in my arms, all of the other stuff starts falling into place and for the first time in my life, I am getting excited for the night. Ella will feel like a princess and I’ll get to be the man on her arm. Not too shabby.
*
Ella makes a gagging sound as we climb into Toby’s truck on Monday morning. “God, Toby what do you do in here to make it smell so awful?”
Toby’s ten-year-old Mazda has never been a poster car for cleanliness, but even I have to admit that this morning the usual locker room stench seems a little more rancid.
He rolls down the windows as he pulls out of my driveway. “Accidentally left some Chinese food back there overnight. Not a good idea.”
“Oh gag,” Ella says. She holds her backpack tightly in her lap and looks around the floor of the backseat.
“Don’t worry, it’s gone,” Toby says with a laugh. He turns down the radio. “So how are the shirt sales?”
I turn around and share a look with Ella. She grins. “They’re insane. We’ve sold more of our crazy ex-girlfriend shirt than any other shirt in my store. I guess people really like donating to animals.”
“Or they really hate Kennedy,” Ella says with a snort.
This past weekend was a blast. Ella and I hung out at home mostly and we even cooked dinner for the family on Sunday night. My life with Ella is low key and fun and I love it this way. No more being dragged to lame-ass parties with a girl who wants to flirt with other guys and call me out when she thinks I’ve been looking at another girl. Life with Ella is fun. It means something.
Although the last forty-eight hours were also hell because I’d kept quiet about the whole dress thing. Toby thinks I should tell her sooner rather than later so she doesn’t go buy it herself, especially since prom is this coming Saturday, only five days away.
Although I agree with him, I could never find the right time to bring it up this weekend. Okay, maybe I’m just a chicken. Part of me is really afraid she’ll think I’m weird or maybe even get mad at me for buying the dress instead of letting her get it. But I really hope she thinks it’s romantic. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience in the romance department and I’m trying the best I can here.
Just thinking about it makes me reach back and grab her hand. All last week while we got rides with Toby, I’d offered to let her sit in the front while I’d sit in the back, but she always says she doesn’t mind. That’s romantic, right? I think so.
“Damn,” Toby says as he drives into the school parking lot. “Maybe your girl should take over the T-shirt business. She sells them better than you do.”
“I hope not,” I say, giving her a wink. “I’m counting on this job to be my career one day.”
Something weird happens when we walk into the school. Usually Mondays are sluggish. Students file through the hallways like zombies, running on too little sleep from the weekend. Today, the hallways seem to light up as I walk by. I’m high fived, whooped to, and given smirky half-smiles as if I share a secret with every other person who looks at me.
“Are you noticing this?” I whisper to Ella.
She nods and chews on her bottom lip. “It’s because of the shirts.”
“It has to be,” I say, noticing the same thing she is. A sea of navy blue crazy ex-girlfriend recipe shirts. They’re everywhere.
An Asian guy I’ve never spoken to waves at me as I walk by. He points to his shirt. “You’re a badass, man,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say back, glancing at Ella.
“Well I do know one thing,” Ella says.
“What’s that?”
A flash of something conspiratorial crosses her face. “I think it’s safe to say you won this war.”
Chapter 28
Something happens on the walk to second period. A chill courses through the air, l
ightning zaps across the sky and the all of the happiness is taken away forever. Okay, maybe it’s not that dramatic.
But I can feel it in the air: Kennedy is back in school today.
Maybe it’s the way people are looking at me, like they’re worried for my safety, or maybe it’s all that bad karma finally coming to get me for the dog joke I typed online. Whatever the case, I slip into second period and slide into my desk, suddenly dying for the day to be over. For the whole school year to be over. I don’t exactly know how I know, but I do—Kennedy is back in school and she’s more than pissed.
A girl walks into our class halfway through third period, handing a pink slip of paper to Mr. Martin. He gives a cursory glance at it and then calls my name.
I look up, hands shaking. This is it. “You’re wanted in the office,” Mr. Martin says, handing me the note. “Might want to back up your things in case it takes a while.”
I nod and try to swallow the lump in my throat. I can feel the entire class’ eyes on me as I sling my backpack over my shoulder and walk into the safe aloneness of the hallways. When I get to the office, I see Ethan sitting in a chair, staring boredly at his shoes.
He looks up when I walk in. I see the same pink note in his hand as well. I sink into a chair next to him. “Guess we’re in trouble?” I ask.
He shrugs. “We didn’t do anything at school. How much trouble could we be in?”
I wish I had his confidence. When Principal Reynolds calls us into his office a few minutes later, I’m practically causing an earthquake with how much my hands are shaking. I’ve never been in trouble before.
I smell her cloud of witch perfume before I see her and know that she’s sitting in Mr. Reynolds’ office, too. Good. We’re all in trouble.
“Have a seat,” Mr. Reynolds says. He gestures to two empty chairs across from his desk. Kennedy sits in the third one. A brief pause happens where Ethan and I have a standoff, both not wanting to sit by her. Finally, he caves.
