by Marcy Blesy
I look for Matt in the student center where he’s meeting me for coffee. I could use the extra caffeine, and he promised there’d be sweet flavors to choose from like vanilla and caramel. When I was about six, I gulped a big swig of my dad’s coffee, black, no sugar. I got in big trouble when I spit that coffee across the table and all over Mom’s new white coat that was hanging on a kitchen chair. Dad thought it was hysterical, of course. Mom punished him by insisting he clean up the mess and the breakfast dishes. I try to embellish my coffee with anything I can to hide that bitter taste.
“Why the smile?”
“Oh, hi, Matt. I was just thinking about something.”
“Care to share?”
“No, I’m…no. So, where’s this famous coffee?”
“I wasn’t sure which you would prefer so I took the liberty of asking the barista to make sample cups.” He sweeps his hand over a row of Styrofoam cups. “We have vanilla, strawberry, and caramel. Think of them as coffee shots.” All I can do is stare at him. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. “Something the matter?” I shake my head.
“No. I…thanks. This is very thoughtful.”
“I have my suspicions about which one you’re going to like best but go ahead. Drink up.” The coffee is too hot to down so I take a nice, slow sip of each one.
“Definitely the caramel,” I say.
“I knew it,” says Matt.
“You did not.”
“I did. Here.” He passes over his notebook. At the top it is written, She likes caramel.
“So, you made a lucky guess,” I say.
“No luck involved. You’re not girly enough for strawberry. You’re sweet like vanilla, but there’s some sort of edge or some sort of story under that exterior of yours that’s just a little dark like the caramel.” I’m suddenly recalling a similar conversation with Ty soon after I’d met him, You’re deeper than most of the girls here. I won’t lie. I want to know what’s under that tough shell.
“I suppose you’re very proud of yourself, thinking you know me so well.” I feel my face getting hot. “Well, you don’t. You don’t know me at all. And you never will. Thanks for the coffee.” I throw a five dollar bill on the table, grab my backpack, and walk away. He doesn’t try to stop me.
Chapter 10:
“Want to order a pizza night?” Mom asks. “I’m too lazy to cook, and you look a little overwhelmed from studying.”
“Sure, Mom. That’s fine,” I say. After leaving the student center, I came home. Once a place to run from, home is now the only place I want to be when I’m upset.
“Everything okay in there?” she asks, gesturing toward my room.
“Yeah, just studying.”
“I thought you were meeting with some friends at school to study.”
“Change of plans.”
“I never liked studying with groups. There’s always a slacker that holds everyone back.” I give her a courtesy chuckle.
“Well, okay then. I’ll go order. I’ll let you know when the pizza’s here.” She starts to shut my door.
“Mom, wait.”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wish you could just hide, like live your life in such a way that nobody ever bugs you about your past or makes you explain why you are the way you are? You know, live like it’s no one else’s damn business what makes you tick, and they can either take you for who you are or leave you alone?”
“Did you and Ty have another fight?” she asks.
“No, no. Not this time. But the same goes for him, too. I thought explaining myself to him would make everything perfect because he’d understand me, but it doesn’t. He still brings up my insecurity.”
“Does he have a point, though, Macy?”
“Of course he has a point, but it’s not the easiest thing to fix, Mom!”
“I know that more than anyone, Macy. Please don’t yell.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve met a new friend, and today he said he knows there’s more to me than what I present on the outside. I don’t want to have to live the rest of my life explaining myself to everyone new I meet. I just want to be me! Macy Tatum or even Mae Tatum for goodness’ sake!” I don’t know when the tears started, but they are falling freely now.
“A lot of people love you, Macy. Don’t ever stop being you, but be the best you.” She tucks my hair behind my ear like she used to do when I was a little girl and had trouble falling asleep at night.
After warm pizza and another hour of studying, I check my phone. Sarah’s sent me three texts reminding me about the party at her house tonight. I know there will be people there from Andersonville High, the school I ran from when tragedy struck my family. Talking with those people who will expect explanations is not my idea of fun. At a minimum, I’ll be the topic of many behind-the-back conversations. Ugh. It was the best decision I ever made getting my GED.
Sarah: PLEASE come, Macy.
Sarah: 8:00. Be there.
Sarah: I’m going to drag you over here. You’ve got 15 minutes.
I check the clock. It’s 9:00. The last thing I want is a couple of Andersonville alumni showing up at my door to personally drag me to Sarah’s house.
Me: Fine. I’m coming. But I won’t stay long.
Sarah: Love ya.
Sarah has been my best friend since elementary school. She and I used to be inseparable. She was part of the reason I left Andersonville. I was afraid something would happen to her if I stayed. But since she’s been at U of I and I’ve been here, it’s been a while since we’ve caught up with life. I don’t even know if she’s still dating Tim. He was nice enough, a lot more patient with Sarah’s changing opinions on things than I would be. She’s definitely a strawberry coffee girl. That thought makes me regret walking out on Matt. He doesn’t understand. I was way too hard on him and need to fix this mess.
Me: Matt, it’s Mae. Sorry. Party at 3471 Wood St. Bring your GF.
I wait for him to answer back, but he doesn’t. I am disappointed because it would have been nice to hang around with someone who wasn’t a part of my past. Then again, maybe it’s for the best. Bringing my past and my present together doesn’t sound too fun, either.
I stand in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear. I choose a striped navy blue shirt and skinny jeans. I stick a barrette in one side of my hair and apply a light layer of makeup, complete with a shine of pink gloss. I’m more girly than Matt thinks.
Before I leave I send Ty a text.
Me: Going to party at Sarah’s.
Ty: Have fun. Psych study group for me.
Me: Miss u.
Ty: C u next weekend.
Me: Yes you will.
I smile as I put the phone away. Things have been good with Ty since he was here last. No major fights. I guess Dr. Rivers was right about not skipping any counseling sessions.
Sarah lives on the country club side of town. She has a big house but not nearly as large as Ty’s. Still, parties there are usually well-attended. There will be people playing pool or foosball in her dad’s game room. Others will be watching various sporting events on at least three large screen televisions, and, of course, there will be drinks. Sarah is a restrained hell-raiser, and her parents know it. They aren’t stupid. They know there’s a party going on in their absence, and Sarah repays their quiet support by never over-serving her guests. She even pays a couple of guys from our class to act as both bouncers and bartenders. In all the years I have known her, there has never been one incident.
Parking my car in front of Sarah’s house proves a bit nostalgic. Dad would drive me to Sarah’s at least once a weekend for our alternating sleepovers. He’d park in front, just like I am now, so he wouldn’t have to back out on the busy street.
It’s easier to kick you to the curb and keep driving, he’d say, but he always said it with a gleam in his eye.
I enter the house through the back door to avoid the stares as long as I can. Sarah is hanging on a new
guy in the kitchen.
“Hey! You made it. About time,” she says. She introduces her new guy.“This is Macy, my best friend in the w-o-r-l-d.”
“Hi,” I say. A lot has changed for Sarah and me. It’s nice to know her feelings haven’t changed.
“Timothy,” he says holding out his hand. I shoot a look at Sarah. She makes bulging eyes behind Timothy’s back as if to tell me to shut the hell up about her last boyfriend having been named Tim. I can’t help but mess with her, though.
“Do you go by Tim?” I ask.
“No, just Timothy,” he says. I smile.
“That’s cool,” I say.
“Want a drink?” asks Sarah, trying to occupy my mouth.
“Sure. How about a beer?”
“Wow, you’re loosening up,” says Sarah. “Get this girl a beer.” One of the bartenders, a guy I had English with my sophomore year, hands me a Sam Adams. No Pabst at Sarah’s parties, my dad’s favorite beer. “Meet me in the game room. We need to catch up.”
“That we do.” I take my beer and walk through the crowd of people watching American Pie in the family room and another group dancing to slow jams near the foyer. A roomful of former classmates nod in my direction but don’t say anything. I’m sure they’re saying plenty when I walk by them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get more looks in one room unless they were on a sports field,” I hear from behind me as I enter the game room. I turn around to see the pearly whites brightening up the room.
“Matt! You came.” I give him a quick hug and look over his shoulder. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She…she couldn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry about that. I can’t believe we haven’t met yet. Jeesh. Do you keep her locked up in a closet or something?” I laugh. Matt doesn’t.
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Sorry…and sorry I walked out on you earlier. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. I’m really surprised you came, but…I’m glad you did.” Matt takes a minute to stare at me. His green eyes try to read into my soul. I close it tighter.
“Is that all I get?” he asks.
“It’s all I’ve got to give, Matt. I’m sorry. There…there are some things I’m tired of sharing. It’s…complicated.”
“Maybe some day,” he says. I nod my head, but I know that won’t happen. I’m done reliving my past when I don’t have to. Plus, I feel a hell of a lot stronger when I’m not perceived as the poor girl who lost almost her whole family and then ran away with crazy thoughts that she could stop any future pain. Yeah, I’m tired of being known as that girl. And from the looks of the people at this party, that’s exactly what people are thinking of me.
“Let’s play pool.” I don’t wait for an answer. I grab a stick and thrust one in Matt’s hand to signal to the group about to finish their game that they’ll have to step aside.
“You breaking?” he asks.
“I think you know the answer.” I let the pool stick fly. The white ball sends the colored balls to the edges of the table, sinking two stripes. “You’re solids,” I say. After two games of pool filled with plenty of heckling during shots, I notice Sarah sitting in Timothy’s lap in the corner of the room watching us. I wave.
Sarah gets up to hand me another beer as I wait my next turn, but I take a pass.
“No?” she asks.
“Come on, Sarah. You know my limit. Plus, I have to drive. Don’t want to set your bouncers off.”
“True. Always so responsible though you sometimes handle your responsibilities in a completely irresponsible way.”
“Ha. Not funny.”
“You going to introduce me to your new friend?”
“This is Matt,” I say. “Matt, this is Sarah.”
“Oh, it’s your house. Thanks for inviting me.”
“I don’t think I did.” Matt’s face is priceless as he thinks about what to say next.
“Don’t worry,” I laugh. “She’s only messing with you.”
“Oh, good. In that case, this is the best party I’ve never been invited to.” He smiles.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful teeth I’ve ever seen?” He also has a great laugh which he gives freely.
“Timothy and I are going up…we’re going to…,” she says. “Just be here when I return. We need to catch up.”
“I don’t know, Sarah. I’m getting tired, and I’ve got a lot of studying to do. Not all of us are lucky enough to be done with finals like you.”
“Then breakfast, okay? Meet me at McDonald’s at 10:30.”
“McDonald’s? Wow, that’s fine dining. I think they’re serving lunch by that time, Sarah. Let’s meet at Stewart’s Steakhouse at noon. I have to work at 1:00. We’ll catch up before my shift.”
“Sounds good. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to see you showing your face again.” She hugs me tightly before grabbing Timothy’s hand and leading him upstairs.
“They been dating for a long time?” Matt asks. I snort, and there is no graceful way to get out of a slip like that.
“Ha! Sorry! No way. She moves faster than a revolving door when it comes to guys.”
“Oh, but not you?” Matt takes my pool stick from me and hands it to one of the guys waiting to play behind us.
“No. I’m a one-man woman.” I laugh because that sounds funny, but it’s true. I follow Matt out of the game room and onto the front porch.
“Are you leaving?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think I’d better.” I shiver because the temperature has gone down quickly. Snow is forecasted for tomorrow. “You’d better get back inside.” He nods toward the door.
“What’s wrong, Matt? We were having a nice time.” He leans in close, like he’s about to tell me a secret.
“I can’t do this anymore, Mae.”
“Do what?” I ask. I am seriously confused.
“You’re sure about Ty?”
“Sure about what?”
“Sure that he’s the one, that he’s the right guy for you?”
“Of course. Why would you ask me that?”
“I just don’t think when you’re in a relationship that you always see the clearest. Sometimes things aren’t really what they seem. Just wondering how clear you see things. Look, I gotta go.” He starts walking toward his car.
“Matt, I…I am clear about Ty.”
“Good for you, Mae.” He opens his car door.
“Don’t you feel the same way about your girlfriend?” He gets in his car and drives away. I don’t get an answer.
Chapter 11:
“Tell me everything,” Sarah says sitting across from me at the restaurant. I sip my pop while she stirs her coffee. She’s nursing a nasty hangover. The coffee makes me think about Matt.
“Well, right now, the only thing to tell is that I have a ton of exams to get through next week. Then I’m heading to Ty’s for the weekend. He’ll be home Friday night. I cannot wait!”
“How are things with Ty?”
“Awesome, well, awesome for the most part. Long distance isn’t easy and then there’s…”
“There’s what?” she asks. I hesitate because I really don’t want to get into the whole Macy is still being insecure and living her life as if a giant tsunami is going to come in to scatter everything she loves to the far corners of the world thing, but Sarah is my best friend, and she does know me well enough to know if I lie to her. “You mean Matt?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“I watched you two last night. I know there’s something going on.”
“Absolutely not! There is nothing going on. Matt has a girlfriend, and I have Ty. We are only friends. I was kind of a jerk to him yesterday while we were studying so I invited him and his girlfriend to your party. She had other plans, I guess.”
“But he still came.”
“Yeah, so. What’s your point?”
“Think about it. All I’m saying is don’t feel bad if you have feelings f
or Matt. It’s got to be a bitch to have a boyfriend who’s a whole state away. I could never do that.” I roll my eyes.
“Isn’t that the truth?” She throws her wadded up napkin at me. “On that topic, tell me about Timothy, not to be confused with Tim.” Sarah goes on and on about the merits of the new man in her life. I listen to her, shaking my head or smiling at the appropriate times, but my mind wanders. How could she think I have interest in Matt other than as a friend? I barely know him. We work together sometimes and share a class and study sessions. That’s it. She’s making something out of nothing. So why am I bothered by it? And what did Matt mean when he questioned me about Ty being the one? I don’t have long to think about it because my shift starts now, as does Matt’s. He just walked in the door. Sarah promises to call later in the week to get in another visit before the weekend, though I know my studies have to come first. I have to get into U of M next year.
I grab my glamorous fanny pack that contains my order pad, a couple of pens that always manage to get lost before the end of my shift, and packages of crackers to pacify the bratty kids who come in with their stay-at-home moms who often meet for lunch in their attempt at maintaining contact with the real world, though, in my opinion, they have no idea what the real world is. I live in the real world, where things are complicated, where people die.
I study the specials before going out to take my first order of the day. “Two kids’ chicken strips and two garden salads, hold the dressing,” I say through the window into the kitchen and tack the order up. Usually Matt chirps back with something witty like Should I hold it in my pocket or will the palm of my hand do? Not today. Whatever. Whatever, indeed!
I am thankful for a little extra spending money, but by the end of my shift today I am exhausted. Staying out late last night and all this studying is getting to me. Only one more week and I’ll be with Ty. I cannot wait. I grab my jacket from a hook in the back room. Matt is still working in the kitchen, cleaning the grill. He looks so sad. I imagine he was quite the football player in high school. His muscles practically bulge as he scours the grease away. I don’t realize I am staring until my thoughts are interrupted.
