The Heartbreakers

by Pamela Wells

  “Mom, it’s a bar mitzvah reception. I don’t think they’ll be up past midnight celebrating.” Not that Raven was exactly sure what they did to celebrate bar mitzvahs, but something told her it wasn’t that kind of party.

  “Raven.” Ms. Valenti looked up and breathed a long sigh. “Just…please be home by midnight, okay?”

  Raven nodded. That probably wouldn’t be hard to pull off considering she didn’t have a boyfriend anymore. Her life was officially unexciting.

  Raven parked her Nissan Sentra in the back of Loon Cast Banquet Hall’s lot. The sun was just setting, casting pinks and oranges in the sky off on the horizon. The snow had stopped falling earlier in the morning, but with the wind blowing it back and forth, it almost seemed like it was snowing.

  Three Days Grace’s “Pain” filled the small interior of Raven’s two-door car. The chorus of the song said, “I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.” Alexia had said almost the exact same thing last weekend after the breakups. But that was easy for her to say, since she’d never been brokenhearted.

  Raven wondered what it’d be like to feel nothing at all. On the one hand, she’d never be sad or angry or frustrated with guys. But then again, she’d never feel excitement or giddy anticipation like she felt right now as she looked at the large building in front of her, wondering if maybe Caleb was on the inside. Lori had promised Caleb wouldn’t be around, but Raven was kind of hoping he was.

  She wanted to see him because she looked good in her silky black dress and black flats. Also, her hair had cooperated nicely after her shower and now hung around her shoulders in inky black waves. Or rather, it would once she got inside and took off her gray leather jacket. She’d wanted to forgo the jacket, since it was hard to be sexy in winter wear, but it was just so cold out.

  But mostly, she just plain missed Caleb. That sucked, because he’d treated her like crap at Craig’s party last weekend, but still…her mind just wouldn’t move past him.

  She’d barely seen him in school all week. They didn’t have any of the same classes together and their lockers were on different ends of the school.

  Someone knocked on the passenger window of Raven’s car. She jumped and brought her hand halfway to her chest.

  “What are you doing?” Lori yelled. “Are you going to sit in your car all night?”

  Raven turned the key and the car shut off. She popped a piece of Big Red in her mouth (she hated mints, it was gum all the way) and checked her teeth in the rearview mirror.

  You look good, she thought. If Caleb was inside, he was totally going to drool.

  She pushed open the driver’s door and met Lori at the front of the car. Lori was wrapped in a raspberry Columbia jacket, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. A red dress hung from beneath the jacket. “Let’s get inside where it’s warm!” Lori jogged as best she could in her high heels over the snow-covered parking lot while holding her dress down with her arms.

  Raven was glad she’d worn flats. She’d probably break her neck in heels, which was why she avoided them at all costs. Her mom had bought her a pair last year to wear to her grandparents’ fiftieth anniversary. That was the first and last time she’d worn them.

  Lori held the side door open for Raven. The wind followed them inside until Lori slammed the door shut on it. Lori shrugged out of her coat and hung it on one of the multitude of gold hooks on the wall. She ran a hand over her upswept hair as if to check for bumps. A few curled wisps hung along her heart-shaped face.

  Raven pulled off her jacket and hung it next to Lori’s. She shook out her hair and rubbed her glossed lips together.

  “Wow,” Lori said, giving Raven a once-over. “You look so hot!”

  “Thanks. Is hot okay for a bar mitzvah reception?”

  “Totally. It’s fine. Come on.” Lori took Raven’s hand and pulled her through the closed door of the lobby.

  Inside the main room, Raven was met with loud music sung in another language. Fiddles accompanied flutes and other stringed instruments. While it wasn’t Raven’s type of music, it did sort of have an inviting dance rhythm to it.

  Lights flooded the stage where the DJ worked. The rest of the room was dark except for the flicker of candles on each of the round tables. The dance floor was packed with kids and their parents.

  A girl no older than thirteen passed Raven with a huge cone of cotton candy in her hands. Raven spotted the cotton candy maker off to her right, next to the long table filled with Israeli food.

  “My mom went all out for this reception,” Lori shouted. “Probably because Simon is the youngest, you know. Later there’s karaoke.”

  “Wow,” Raven replied, taking it all in while also surreptitiously looking for Caleb.

  “Simon’s over here,” Lori said. “Come say hi to him.”

  Lori made her way around several tables and stopped in front of a table along the wall. “Hey, Simon! Look who’s here!”

  Simon saw Raven and smiled wide. He got out of his chair and came around the table. “Thanks for coming, Raven!”

  Raven couldn’t help but smile back. The kid was so sweet and cute, especially tonight, in his black dress pants and white shirt. His red silk tie looked crisp and new. His dark hair was gelled down. Raven wondered if Caleb had done his brother’s hair to help him out. He was extremely overprotective of his younger siblings. Even if he was a sucky boyfriend, he was one killer older brother.

  “I had to come to see you.” Raven squeezed Simon’s shoulder and he blushed in response.

  “So how come you haven’t been over all week?”

  Raven winced. What was she supposed to say to that?

  “Later, Simon, okay?” Lori said. “Just be happy she’s here now.”

  “But—”

  “Simon!”

  “Okay. Okay. Fine.”

  Mrs. Plaskoff, Caleb’s mom, came up. “Honey,” she said to Simon, “come say hi to your cousins from Illinois.” She noticed Raven standing there. “Oh, Raven, honey!” She put her arms around Raven and squeezed. Mrs. Plaskoff always smelled like roses.

  “I heard about it. I’m so sorry. My oldest boy, I swear, sometimes he just doesn’t think. You know?” She shook her head, but her faux red hair, frozen in curls with tons of hair spray, barely moved an inch.

  Raven smiled. She liked Caleb’s mother. She was boisterous but extremely nice.

  Mrs. Plaskoff leaned over to whisper in Raven’s ear. “He’s over by the punch bowl if you want to talk to him.” She straightened and set her hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Come on, Simon. Nice to see you, Raven.” The mother/son pair disappeared in the crowd.

  Raven turned to the food table where she’d seen the punch bowl. Caleb was there, a plastic cup in his hands. His eyes were locked on her, but there was another girl hanging on his shoulder.

  He was in dress clothes, too, with a tie that matched Simon’s. His face was clean-shaven.

  Raven didn’t recognize the girl. She was probably seventeen or so, but she was trying to appear older with tons of makeup and thick black eyeliner. Her thin lips were rimmed in red lipstick and her boobs looked pushed up with a bra, the cleavage sticking out of a low-cut black dress.

  “Who’s the girl with Caleb?” Raven asked Lori.

  Lori looked in her brother’s direction then groaned. “She’s a friend of our cousin’s from Tel Aviv. She’s been hanging on Caleb since they got here.”

  Raven tried to breathe out the jealousy, but it burrowed deep into her chest. Although they’d broken up, she couldn’t help but feel like she still had some sort of claim on Caleb. Certainly more than some Israeli girl from Tel Aviv did.

  Raven threw back her shoulders, elongated her neck, and strutted across the oak floor, her flats clipping along as if cheering her on. She stopped in front of Caleb and slyly appraised the temptress now that she was up close. The girl’s complexion was blotchy and there was a huge pimple at the corner of her nose. Her eyebrows were plucked crookedly and the foundation she used was two
shades darker than her actual skin tone. Raven could tell because of the tide line along her hairline.

  Raven plastered on a smile. “Hey,” she said, hoping that Caleb’s across-the-room eye contact had been a sign that he was still into her and wasn’t about to blow her off in front of the enemy.

  “Hey,” he said. He set his cup down on the table behind him and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What’s up?”

  The song on the sound system changed to a classic rock song. Several adults hooted and quickened their steps on the dance floor, moving in time with the beat.

  Raven clasped her hands behind her back. “Thought I’d come to wish Simon well.”

  The girl looked Raven over as if threatened.

  Bet you don’t even know who Simon is, Raven thought.

  “Cool.” Caleb nodded.

  Raven noticed her black dress went well with Caleb’s outfit. They would have looked like such a cute couple in photos.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” he said, and shot the girl a look like, “Scram.”

  The girl curled her upper lip but darted away.

  “Sure,” Raven said, pleased with the outcome of that situation.

  Caleb grabbed her arm gently and led her through a door behind the food table. They entered a kitchen where several people worked, packing away extra food and cleaning dirty dishes. The air smelled like salty fish and chicken soup.

  Caleb headed through another door that took them into a hallway and then into an empty room that looked like a dressing room. He sat down on the couch along the wall and patted the cushion next to him. “Sit down for a second?”

  She hesitated. He was being so nice, but at the same time, she was breaking a rule right now by being here, she just knew it. Still, she couldn’t just leave things the way they were.

  She sat down but was sure to keep some distance between them.

  “So, uh,” Caleb said, “I was totally buzzed that night and mad, too; you can’t blame me. Ya know? You did kiss another dude.”

  Raven flicked her eyes to him. “It’s not like I planned it. Or meant to hurt you.” The bus ride home from regional band competition flashed in her mind. She saw herself and Horace in the back of the bus, with Horace’s hands in her hair. Raven turned away from Caleb, afraid that he’d read the thoughts in her eyes.

  “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” Caleb shifted so he could face her. “But you did.”

  He sounded sincere, but Raven would put money on the fact that he didn’t technically have feelings, just pride. And that’s what she’d bruised more than anything.

  “Well, I’m glad we had this talk,” she said, ready to get up. She was starting to get uncomfortable, as if her subconscious was trying to tell her how wrong it was that she was there.

  “Me, too.” He paused, then scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his. “I don’t want us to hate each other.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  Maybe she’d gone too far with the black dress and the act she’d put on to drive the other girl away. Had she led him on?

  Back here, away from the main room and the stereo, it was almost silent. She wondered if her breathing sounded too quick and whether or not Caleb was getting the wrong impression. She was feeling claustrophobic and definitely not excited.

  She made a move to leave again but Caleb tightened his grip on her hand. “Wait.” He pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Caleb.”

  He tilted her chin up with a finger and kissed her. At first she didn’t stop him, mainly because she was frozen in place. She’d kissed him so many times before, that this just felt natural, like slipping into a comfy but holey sweatshirt she should have thrown out long ago. He wound his arm around her waist and guided her back against the couch so that they were both lying down.

  Heat brushed her cheeks, while her mind screamed, “Stop!” as it tried to be rational.

  She slid out from beneath Caleb and practically jumped off the couch.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “We’re not together.”

  “We can be together.” He stood up, towering over her. “I want to get back together.”

  The only reason he was saying that now was because he wanted to sleep with her. That’d probably been his plan all along. That’s why he’d pulled her all the way back here in the recesses of the party hall.

  But she wasn’t going to sleep with him. It not only broke a rule, it was just plain wrong. Her friends would never let her live that one down. Not that she’d have to tell them. But she would know she deliberately broke one of the more serious rules.

  “I’m going,” she said, straightening her hair with her fingers. She pulled open the door on the dressing room and hurried down the hallway.

  Caleb ran after her. “Wait, Ray.”

  “Don’t call me Ray.” He made the nickname sound wrong.

  “I’ve always called you Ray. Stop, would you?”

  “There’s nothing left to say!”

  “If you didn’t want to get back together, then why did you scare Yael away like you were jealous or something?”

  Raven slowed. “Who’s Yael?”

  “The girl I was talking to when you came up.”

  She shook her head. She didn’t have a good answer to that one. It was a huge mistake. “I’m done talking.”

  “Raven, damn it. Stop being a bitch.” His voice had turned harsh, the same as it had last Friday night when he broke up with her. If Alexia were here right now, she’d say Raven didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

  Raven had no idea how she should be treated. She wasn’t some princess that needed to be waited on—but she certainly didn’t deserve being called a bitch.

  She stopped at the door, hand on the knob, ready to bolt. She turned to Caleb, his face red with anger now. “If you weren’t such an asshole,” she said, “I wouldn’t have to be a bitch.”

  She pulled the door open and ran.

  TWELVE

  Rule 15: Find a hobby or something you are passionate about.

  Sydney was spending her second Saturday as a single girl in the attic. She should have been out shopping. Or maybe studying. Or getting her hair done. But she didn’t feel like leaving the house, which was definitely saying something. She’d spent the last two years avoiding the house because it had become a hollow shell of what it used to be, with her mother gone ninety percent of the time and her dad trying to be Mr. Mom.

  As a way to get her mind off Drew, Sydney was in pursuit of a Rubbermaid tote she’d lugged into the attic some six months ago. It contained several crammed photo albums, one ratty blanket, an empty journal, and a digital camera that had once been considered top of the line but was now sorely out-of-date.

  The idea was, find the camera and take up a new hobby as a way of fulfilling the concept behind Rule 15.

  Sydney stepped around a leather trunk, bumping into a tower of cardboard boxes. She stilled them with her hands before they toppled over, and moved farther into the room, which ran the length and width of the house.

  Mostly there were cardboard boxes and Rubbermaid totes up here. Sydney’s dad filled the boxes, but her mom had always said totes were more practical because they guarded against moisture and bugs.

  The tote Sydney was looking for was clear with a top the color of flamingos. It should have been easy to pick out among the brown cardboard and the forest-green totes her mother always bought, but for some reason, Sydney was having a hard time locating it.

  And it should have been right there by the door where she left it. Had her mother grabbed it? Maybe to take the camera?

  Mrs. Howard used to be an amateur photographer. She would take Sydney out to Birch Falls Park on weekends to take photos of the swans and deer, and the duck pond near the back of the park, where people ice-skated in the winter.

  Sydney used to love those outings. It was so routine that it almost became as familiar as the ratty blanket that was also
in the flamingo tote. Sydney had slept with that blanket every night until six months ago when she decided she was too old for it. It’d been a gift from her now-deceased grandmother.

  Part of her was searching for the tote, not only for the camera but the blanket, too. She’d lost the most familiar thing in her life: Drew. She felt like she was reaching for anything that would be familiar and maybe fill that hollow void in her chest.

  Dust swirled in the muted moonlight pouring through the square window at the far end. Sydney wondered what time it was and whether or not she’d ever find this stupid tote. It had to be after nine if the moon was out.

  She thought of Drew and wondered where he was and what he was doing. Hopefully, he wasn’t with Nicole Robinson.

  “Aha,” she said to the silence when she spotted the pink tote lid peeking out from beneath a sheet. She pulled the sheet back. Dust spiraled in the air and she waved it away. When it settled, she sat on the floor with the tote in front of her and popped open the lid.

  Sitting on top of the canary-yellow blanket was the digital camera, exactly where she’d put it six months ago. Did her mother miss those weekend trips to the park? Sydney had barely talked to her mother in weeks. And when they did talk, they didn’t talk about the fun they used to have. Mostly it was about Sydney’s schoolwork, and even then the conversations didn’t last long. They usually went like this:

  “How’s school going?” her mom would say.

  Sydney would reply, “It’s good. I got an A in—”

  Her mom’s BlackBerry or laptop would start dinging with an incoming message. “I have to get that,” her mom would say and then bury herself in her work for another two hours.

  Sydney usually gave up at that point.

  Now she took the camera in her hands and slid the power button over. The camera let out three chirps while the power light flickered green. The batteries were still good. The screen lit up with the last picture taken.

  Sydney’s mouth hung slack when she looked at it.