Now what?
I hate waiting.
I kill about an hour by acting out my imminent confrontation with Cassidy in the bathroom mirror. Then I try calling Em again, but she still isn’t picking up her cell. I contemplate calling her house phone, but I’m definitely too traumatized to make small talk with her parents right now.
I continue to mope around the house for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally sending JoJo a friendly text, such as WTF is going on!?!?!? CALL ME. CALL ME OR I WILL HAVE TO MURDER YOU!!!!!!!!
That evening, I’m eating a PB&J in my room after being banished from the dinner table for point-blank refusing to help with the ridiculous Chanukah cards. As I was storming up the stairs, I heard my mother say, “I don’t know, Marvin. Do you think she’s doing drugs? Maybe we should take her to see that therapist on your racquetball team …” before I slammed my door as hard as possible. Why, I’d like to know, is teenage angst always blamed on drugs instead of totally insensitive parents?
Just as I’m about to go back to the kitchen to stick my head in the oven, my cell rings at last. It’s JoJo.
“Finally! What were you doing all this time? Are you trying to give me a second nervous breakdown?”
“Well, I—”
“Never mind, never mind. What did she say? Tell me everything.” My devastation has temporarily been replaced by an almost manic need to know exactly what is going on. I feel like, if I have all the information, I can make sense of this whole thing. I don’t want to know, really … but I need to know.
“Well, actually … I don’t think I feel comfortable talking to you about what Cass said,” JoJo mumbles hesitatingly. “I just … well, you’re both my friends. I don’t want to get in the middle. I want to stay neutral here.”
“What? I’m sorry—what?” I sputter in disbelief.
“I’m staying neutral. I’m sorry—don’t be pissed, Kels. I want to help.”
“‘Staying neutral’? Look, JoJo … neutral is stupid. If neutral were a good idea, more people would move to Sweden. Or Switzerland. Or … wherever. You can’t just … come on!” What could Cassidy have said to her? I feel like my life is falling apart. This cannot be happening.
JoJo is still talking about not wanting to take sides when suddenly I have a brilliant idea: I’ll call Lexi! Maybe she’ll have some insider info, since everyone worships her and probably just blabs all their personal info to her if she says hi to them in the hallway. Armed with a new plan, I quickly tell JoJo not to worry about it, whatever, and hang up.
I scroll to Lexi’s number in my phone. I’ve never called her before, except as part of the soccer phone tree, and even though she’s made all those friendly overtures, I still feel a little weird about it. Like I’m asking her out or something.
Well, whatever. This is an emergency situation.
She picks up after two rings and after some generic how-are-you chitchat I get down to business. As nonchalantly as possible, I ask, “So, want to hear something crazy? Guess who was totally hooking up at the Scarves show last night?”
“You?” Lexi guesses.
“Oh, well actually, yeah. Ha.” I give her a brief rundown of that disaster.
“Has Keith called you yet?” Lexi asks, which is something I hadn’t even stopped to think about in my Cassidy-Jordan frenzy. Am I dissed? Do I care?
I breezily say, “Eh, I’ll just see Keith tomorrow at school. It was pretty casual,” like I randomly make out with guys in our class all the time or something. Then I add, “Anyway, the big scoop is about Cassidy and Jordan! Can you believe it? Hahahahaha. Ha. Ha?”
Silence on her end. I knew it! I think. She’s into him too and now she’s furious! We can destroy Cassidy together!
But then Lexi says, “Really? That’s surprising. I mean, Jordan’s such a jackass.”
Well, that isn’t what I expected her to say at all. Are we talking about the same Jordan here? Beautiful, blue-eyed Jordan? Jordan, who … well, I guess I never stopped to think much about his personality, actually. He’s just so hot, it didn’t seem to matter.
“Um, what do you mean?” I demand. “Jordan is awesome!”
“Ugh, Kelsey, he’s a total loser! He’s been hitting on me in a seriously gross way ever since I got here, like grabbing at me in the halls and stuff. I finally told him to cut it the hell out, and now he does this stupid thing where he laughs when he sees me in the hall or pretends to be talking about me. Like I care, right? It’s so pathetic and rude. At least in LA guys have manners.”
Okay … that is pathetic and rude, true. He was grabbing at her, though? Moment of pitiful self-loathing: Despite everything, I am still completely envious. Grabbing what, exactly? My boobs are way bigger than hers—or Cassidy’s, for that matter. Why hadn’t he ever tried to grab them? Oh my God. Am I really having these thoughts? I need to pull myself together.
Lexi continues, “Anyway, I guess I just thought Cassidy had better taste in guys. Besides, Jordan’s been doing it with Lori Soler since, like, mid-October. Didn’t you know that? I thought everybody knew that.”
Wait. What?!
So, back in seventh grade, a teacher supposedly walked in on a girl giving a very special performance in the music room with this guy who didn’t even go to our school. That girl was Lori Soler, and according to the bathroom walls, nothing has changed since.
And now Jordan is hooking up with her? Actually having sex with her? First of all, I can’t believe people in my grade are seriously having sex. Well, I guess I can believe it—I watch TV, for God’s sake. But Jordan? What is with this guy? I mean, with Lori Soler? Is he that desperate? He could have had ME, for crying out loud!
Well. You know what I mean.
Lexi and I chat a bit more about boys and their typical animal behavior and then we hang up. I have a lot to digest, obviously, not to mention a serious dilemma: Can I let my anger at Cassidy prevent me from telling her that she’s getting played? Even if she is a cruel, terrible person at the moment, she’s still technically one of my best friends.
And I certainly don’t want Cassidy to get an STD or something. I have no choice but to eat an entire box of fudge while I think it over, and then watch Save the Last Dance for about the eighty-sixth time instead of finishing my homework.
But I can’t even concentrate on that. I keep thinking about the whole mess. Can I really not say anything to Cassidy? She needs to know the truth, and from a friend; finding out through the rumor mill might serve her right for dashing my hopes and dreams, but it would be humiliating and awful for her.
But: if Jordan is having sex with Lori Soler, does that mean … could that mean that Cass is doing it with him too? Which would mean that a) she’d lost her virginity b) to Jordan, who was supposed to be with me, and c) hadn’t even told me, one of her best friends. And if she obviously cares so little about our friendship in the first place, then why should I bother telling her about Jordan and his filthy love triangle anyway?
But I should tell her. It’s the right thing to do. She’s still my … even though she … I couldn’t …
I must’ve dozed off, because around ten-thirty I wake up to Travis dancing around in the TV room like a maniac and my mother hollering about the disappearance of all the fudge. I drag myself to my bed, but I can’t sleep. All I can think about is Cassidy having sex with Jordan. I mean, have they done it once? A lot of times? Did it hurt? Was it … enjoyable? How do they, sort of, arrange themselves, really? Am I actually a bit glad I maybe have a devirginized friend who can tell me how the whole thing actually works in real life and not just how it looks on TV? Assuming I can ever be friends with her again?
It suddenly strikes me as so weird that Cassidy—who last year at this time hadn’t even kissed a guy, just like me—might now be on this whole other playing field. I mean, can we even relate to each other anymore? What am I going to say to her? “Oh my God, guess what? I kissed Keith Mayhew for ten minutes and I don’t think I liked it!” She’d snootily reply, “
Oh, Kelsey, I’d love to talk about your childish games and suchlike, but I have to go to lunch at Pastis with my adult friends who have actual intercourse. Sorry.”
And what if lots of other kids are doing it, too? What if all of them are? JoJo got to third with some guy who worked at a record store last summer. No idea if she’s ever made out with a girl, assuming she does in fact want to. Em hasn’t had sex with James yet, but I know she’s been thinking about it. What if I’m the only virgin left in the freshman class? Is that even normal? I mean, we’re only fourteen. Doesn’t anyone want to, like, wait for five minutes before having sex all over the place?!
Maybe Lexi is wrong. Just because she has a pierced nose and a perfect body (and hair) doesn’t mean she knows everything.
16
When I wake up in the morning I have sheet marks all over my face, I look like I just escaped from Shawshank Prison, and I still don’t know what to do.
I drag myself to school and sort of float through the morning in a daze. After second period I see Cassidy in the hall. We stare at each other for a sec and then look away, which is so weird. I mean, normally we’d zip right over to each other and start chatting, but now it feels like I don’t even know her. And frankly, I don’t want to talk to her. She’s the one who betrayed me, after all!
She finally comes over to me with this fixed look on her face, her jaw tight like it’s wired shut or something. She goes, “Well, JoJo told me that you saw us on Saturday night. So … I guess it’s good that you know. I was trying to figure out how to tell you anyway.”
Did she just say “us” to me? Like they’re a recognized couple now, and I’m just supposed to go along with that? I can’t believe that was her opening line. Doesn’t she realize how hurt I am? Did she even think about it for a second?
“Oh, really?” I hiss through gritted teeth. “You were trying to ‘figure it out’? How hard were you working on that, exactly? Because I have to say, I’m not very impressed.”
“You know, you can’t really be mad at me about this, Kelsey. I mean, it’s not like you guys ever hooked up. You barely even ever talk. And—”
“Cassidy, you have known for years how I felt about him. And you knew that this was the year I really wanted to try and make it happen now that Jemma’s gone—we’ve talked about it a million times!” I’m fighting to keep my voice down, since people are already glancing with interest in our direction, but it’s not easy. “How could you do this to me? You’re supposed to be one of my best friends!”
“Kelsey, you can’t just, like, claim a guy—how is that fair?”
“Fair? Are you serious? I’m talking about our friendship, Cass. Though apparently that doesn’t really exist anymore.”
“Well, if you’re not even going to be reasonable, then maybe it doesn’t!”
I stand there gaping at her. She looks at me, still haughty with her chin in the air, but I think I can see it quivering a little bit. I don’t know what to say. The bell rings and she walks away, leaving me standing there looking at a row of lockers.
Wow.
At lunch, I head to the caf and take my usual seat at our table with JoJo, but Cassidy is conspicuously missing. I glance around and find her in seconds—sitting with Jordan at a table across the room.
“Really?” I turn to JoJo in disbelief. “Really? She’s sitting with him now?”
JoJo follows my gaze and raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t comment. I guess her whole “neutral” thing is still in effect. Dammit.
“Hey, guys!” Lexi sits down next to me, tossing her lunch on the table and her backpack on the floor. Yay—a non-neutral person I can vent to! Excellent.
“Lex,” I begin, “you seriously won’t believe what happened after second period today.”
“Oh, did you talk to—”
Em walks over with a tray and sits down across from me, since Lexi is in her usual seat. I’m so glad to see her, finally; I still haven’t gotten to even tell her about the concert yet, much less ask her advice or tell her about the Lori Soler thing—we’ve been in different classes all morning.
“Em! I have so much to talk to you about,” I say, leaning in. “For starters, don’t look now, but my former friend Cassidy has a new boyfriend—an official one, apparently, according to lunchroom seating politics.” I guess I’m past depression and into the anger phase. “So where were you last night?”
“I was—”
“And can you believe Cassidy? Wait till you hear what Lexi told me. I’m still totally in—”
“Oh, hello, little freshman girls.” It’s Julie Nelson, flanked by Ned and one of her other cronies, looming over the table. How does someone that hulking and horrible always manage to sneak up on me so successfully?
Julie stands next to our table for approximately forever, droning on and on about how great she is while nibbling on a protein bar. She’s obviously just here to torture me, so I wish she’d just get on with it already.
“You know,” she says, “our last game of the season is Thursday. I’m sure you’re all coming out to support the team, right? Oh, and Kelsey, you’re planning to shock everyone by doing something other than cower inside the net for once, right?” See? I knew it.
“Julie—” I start, but Lexi interrupts me.
“Julie, don’t you have anything better to do than bug Kelsey all the time? I mean, at least come up with some new material or something. Seriously.”
Ack! What is Lexi doing? Trying to get me killed? I appreciate her support and everything … but I really wish she’d show it some other way, like by pushing me into oncoming traffic. I’m racking my brain for words—any words—that might diffuse the situation, when Lexi starts giggling. Then she pokes Julie conspiratorially in the arm, like she didn’t just insult her to her face.
I watch, stunned and relieved, as Julie’s face goes from fury to incredulity to a … smile? And now she’s laughing with Lexi. Even Ned is showing signs of life.
Is that some kind of trick they teach in LA, or what?
The bell rings. “See you at the game, ladies,” Julie calls, finally heading off with her minions.
“I, uh … well,” I stammer, “it was really cool of you to stick up for me like that, Lex. I just never know what to say that won’t piss her off, you know?”
“Oh, no problem. She really is such a bitch to you, and for no reason! What an idiot.” Lexi shrugs, standing up to leave.
Em starts to ask, “Kelsey, are you—”
“So, did you talk to Cassidy or what?” Lexi continues. Oh, right, Cassidy. For a brief moment there, I’d almost forgotten all about her.
I get up, too, turning to toss what’s left of my lunch in the trash, pausing for a second when a flash goes off right in my eye. Through the splotchy blobs in my field of vision, I can sort of see that somebody is taking pictures of the cafeteria staff. Maybe it’s a gag for the yearbook? Whatever. I catch up to Lexi and follow her into the hall, trying to relay the Cassidy encounter in full with only three minutes till my next class.
I get to Algebra 2 without a second to spare and slip into my seat. Lucky me: Both Cassidy and Keith are in this class. I’ve passed Keith in the hall today like a hundred times and he hasn’t said a word. Cassidy is texting inside her desk—probably to Jordan. Puke.
I suddenly realize that I still haven’t talked to Em—I just left her sitting at the lunch table! I text her to meet me at my locker during our shared free period, which is right before the end of the day.
A second later, a little envelope symbol pops up with an incoming text. It’s a message from Keith, six seats over, and it says: Hey Kels. Cool time at show. Not 2 B a dick, but not up for comitment rite now. Hop we’re cool.
Well, isn’t that the cherry on my sundae.
I’m struck with an intense urge to stand up in the middle of class and say, Oh, what a terrible shame that you aren’t up for “comitment.” Guess what? I’m not either. By the way, I got you this dictionary to use for future text-mess
age breakups—hope you like it!
Yeesh. I can’t think of anything to write back that doesn’t make me sound like I’m upset, which I’m seriously not—not about this, anyway. So I just look over at Keith and shrug. Nice and noncommittal; he seems to like that, since he gives me a thumbs-up.
Seriously? I can’t believe I Frenched that guy.
I don’t get a response from Em during the next two classes, but we almost always meet at my locker during a free period anyway, so I head straight there when the bell rings. No Em. I sort through my stuff and chat to some kids in the hallway, but still no Em.
Where is she? I’m starting to feel weird, like maybe something is wrong. Could she be sick? I head down the hall to the girls’ room, thinking maybe she’s in there for some reason, but it’s empty.
I finally spot her coming out of the library. I’m so relieved to see her; I don’t think I’ve ever needed her advice on so many topics all at once.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I feel like it’s been a year with how much has happened since we last talked. What’s up with your phone? I have to tell you—”
I take a second to gulp some much-needed air.
“Yeah, Kels, I know. I got to hear all about it this morning. From Lexi Bradley, not you.”
“What? What do you—”
“Do you know how dumb I felt when she started whispering to me in math all about how you hooked up with Keith and I had no clue what she was talking about?”
“Em, I—”
“I can’t believe you told her about your first kiss and not me. I thought I was your best friend!”
“Em, you are! I tried to—”
“And then I find out about Cass and Jordan from JoJo at lunch while Lexi is busy playing your bodyguard with Julie Nelson. What’s going on?”
I’m so surprised, I can’t even formulate a thought. What is Em so upset about? I’m about to explain that I tried to call her last night when Lexi runs up. We turn around and she squeals, “Hey, guys! Oh, Em, I forgot to tell you, I love your hair like that!” She grabs my arm. “Kelsey, you’ll never guess what happened; two different guys asked me to the winter formal today—can you believe that?”
Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters Page 8
