Being Mary Bennet Blows

by Mary Strand

  “Lydia was the only one who got a decent job.” She sniffed. Cat had been so pissed when Mom and Dad let Lydia, and not Cat, go to Wisconsin Dells last summer. “I could’ve been a lifeguard. Like Drew.”

  “Except you would’ve had to learn to swim.” Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught a glimpse of Josh’s Camaro. Not. My heart sped up for no reason. Shaking my head, I glanced back at Cat. “I can’t believe how demanding waterparks are.”

  “And I would’ve done better in the circus than Lydia did.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyone would’ve done better than Lydia. She lasted only a couple of days before they fired her.”

  “Just because she—”

  I held up a hand, trying not to picture Lydia stripping for the owner of the circus at the moment the owner’s wife walked in. “Please. Let’s not talk about Lydia.”

  “You’re just jealous.”

  “Not in this lifetime.” I realized Cat was jealous of Lydia, even though the two juvenile delinquents had always been so close. Weird. “But maybe she’ll be home before too long. Have you talked to her at all?”

  As far as I knew, Lydia hadn’t called home yet, and Dad couldn’t ever seem to “remember” the phone number of the “elite boarding school” he’d told Mom she was attending. Lydia had already been gone almost a month and a half. Even Dad couldn’t stall Mom forever, especially knowing Mom’s legendary Google prowess.

  Cat shrugged. “What if I have?”

  “Just curious.” I swung wide into the school parking lot and started searching for a parking place. I told myself I wasn’t hoping for an actual glimpse of Josh’s dark-green Camaro.

  “There’s one.” Cat pointed to an open space before I could spot either Josh or his Camaro. I glanced down at the super-skinny jeans I’d worn today, wondering if Josh would still be hot on me when he couldn’t stare at my bare legs all day.

  Cat slammed her door and stormed ahead of me into school. We were a few minutes early, so I trudged slowly after her. I wanted to see Josh, but I didn’t. Would everything be the same? If so, the same as what? The same as it’d been before we locked lips for a couple hours yesterday? Or the same as it’d been right before his mom booted us out of his room?

  Like we were practically in love.

  Or at least in a serious case of like, with a side of lust thrown in. Despite the unseen white undies. And despite Penelope.

  I finally made it to my locker. No Josh, but by now I knew that he usually got to school at the last minute.

  The warning bell rang just then and, sure enough, I glanced up to see Josh walk in from the parking lot—joined at the hip with Penelope, who was wearing a short skirt just like the one I’d worn yesterday. As Liz and Jane had guessed, a short skirt wasn’t Penelope’s best look.

  But Josh didn’t seem to mind. At all.

  Happy birthday to me.

  Not.

  I hunched over my desk in English class, not watching Josh walk in with Penelope, not watching him linger at the door and maybe slide her a quick smooch before strutting over to my side of the room, where the key to his “A” in Physics—or maybe just his latest pity project—awaited him.

  Even in new, hot-pink undies, I felt like a pathetic loser. Inside and out. I kept changing this year, one thing after another, but I hadn’t been able to change my name or my destiny. Not even with Jane’s and Liz’s help.

  I didn’t even like being called “MB,” as it turned out, and now that Jane called me “MB” every chance she got—just to be nice—I couldn’t stop her.

  Just like I couldn’t stop Penelope from stealing Josh.

  As Mr. Skamser droned on about past participles and Josh sat behind me, probably making goo-goo eyes at Penelope across the room, I stared out the window and thought not-so-great thoughts about my lousy, pathetic existence.

  But it wasn’t so lousy. I’d actually made a friend this year, for the first time ever. Sure, he turned out to be a snake in the grass. I’d gotten my first kiss—my first couple hundred, actually. Sure, Josh’s mom had interrupted us and—major clue—mistaken me for Penelope. I’d started getting to know Jane and Liz, who were as cool as I’d always thought but also nice. And I had cute clothes and a haircut that felt as great as it looked, and I no longer sighed when I looked in a mirror. Much.

  I also still had Cat and Lydia for sisters, a dad who was sweet but unreliable, and a bipolar mom who daily gave new meaning to the word “surprise!” But didn’t every girl have issues? Even someone like Chrissie? Or . . . Penelope?

  I might be a work in progress, but I wasn’t hopeless.

  I also didn’t have tree-trunk thighs.

  Okay, I shouldn’t have thought that. But Penelope shouldn’t have stolen Josh from me.

  I looked up at Mr. Skamser, trying to tune in to the rest of his mind-numbing lecture, even though his participles were still languishing in the past and it was obvious that nobody gave a rat’s ass. But I was going to be okay. Maybe not today, even though I’d waited forever to turn eighteen, but some day.

  I could almost taste it.

  I couldn’t taste much at lunch, though, other than my birthday-special bologna-and-black-olives-on-tree-bark sandwich that went down like sawdust with a side of jealousy thrown in. Josh and Penelope sat at a table across the room. Josh kept staring at me, but I figured he was busy comparing my kissing ability with Penelope’s. Ew.

  But I plowed through the sawdust, washed it down with a Diet Coke, then hurried out of the cafeteria in record time. I thought I heard someone calling me, but the possibilities weren’t good. Cat wouldn’t be caught dead speaking to me in school, and Josh was way too mesmerized by Penelope, which left Mr. Paymar or some teacher.

  I sped up and didn’t stop until I hit the media center, where Ms. Kieran met me at the door.

  “Oh, Mary! Just the girl I’ve been hoping to see.”

  “Uh—” I wish I could say the same, but Dad always told me never to lie except in extreme circumstances. Like, say, if Mom asked me how dinner tasted.

  “Have you filled out your college applications? Several of them require references, but I know you’ll have no problem getting those.”

  I’d been so caught up in Josh, and what to do about Josh, and what to wear around Josh, that I’d totally blown off the scholarship and college brochures Ms. Kieran had rounded up for me. One look at her expectant face told me this was one of those extreme circumstances Dad had mentioned. “I’m almost done with them, thanks. Just working on the essays.”

  I’d barely even looked at the essay questions, let alone thought of anything to write that didn’t describe my pathetic existence in excruciating detail.

  Ms. Kieran nodded. “Good, good. Let me know if you need help. I’m sure any college would be thrilled to get you.”

  Josh had gotten me yesterday and didn’t exactly look thrilled today, but maybe colleges were different. I didn’t have to kiss anyone to get admitted.

  At least, I didn’t think so.

  I found an empty table in the far corner of the media center, dumped my backpack, then grabbed a computer to search for books that explained how to design a roller coaster, if not build one, if not include an actual model in an extremely thick back pocket of the book. After five minutes, I’d had no luck, but wasn’t that my fault? I’d blown off the last month not doing anything about roller coasters except throw up on one.

  “They’re long gone.”

  Frowning, I slowly glanced up to see Josh leaning over my shoulder to look at the computer screen.

  He grabbed the chair next to me and sat down in front of another computer, but he didn’t touch the keyboard. “Everyone in class nabbed all the roller coaster books within a few days after Mr. Gilbertson assigned the project. I keep checking, but no one is turning them in.”

  Crap. I could always look at the public library, but that had probably been raided by now, too. “Then how did you do your design?”

  “I haven’t done it. I
just had a few ideas.” Which was basically nothing. “But you said you already finished your design.”

  I shrugged, the lie dancing on my tongue. “I haven’t started building the actual model yet.”

  Or started the design, or cracked open a book, or had more than the most fleeting relevant thought, not to put too fine a point on it. I’d been too busy trying not to think about Josh. And then I’d been too busy kissing him.

  Why was he here, anyway? “Where’s Penelope?”

  His eyes darted away from me. “In the cafeteria, I think. I told her I had to work on my roller coaster.”

  “The one you were going to work on yesterday. After school.”

  We stared at each other. I glanced at his lips and then back up at his eyes. His gaze was glued to my lips, but by now I knew it didn’t mean much. Ten minutes ago, his gaze had probably been glued to Penelope.

  He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then closed it. I just waited. Calmly. Because I wasn’t a loser, even if I’d had more than a few pathetic moments in my life. Including today.

  Josh finally opened his mouth again, and this time words came out. “I really did want to work on the roller coaster with you yesterday.”

  As opposed to kissing me? Great. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to, um, do something else?”

  “Like . . . kiss you?”

  I shivered, remembering, even though it was totally embarrassing and even though Penelope’s face flashed in my mind, feeling like a bucket of ice-cold water.

  He stared at me until I finally nodded. “Yeah. Like that.”

  “My mom liked you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Your mom thought I was Penelope.”

  “Yeah, well, on that—”

  “Shhh!” Ms. Kieran suddenly rose up before us, and I jumped. “Please! You both know better than to talk in the media center.”

  I glanced at the computer screen, pretending I was still working. The instant Ms. Kieran left us alone, after a final warning shake of her head, I looked back at Josh.

  Josh’s gaze followed her. After a minute, he touched my arm. “You think I hooked up with Penelope.”

  Only because I’m not blind. “I don’t care. I just want to get my roller coaster done.”

  “And I interrupted. Sorry.” Josh pushed back his chair and stood up, towering over me. “I did want to work on the roller coaster, but I also wanted to—” He dropped his voice to a whisper, making my skin tingle. “Kiss you.”

  “Shhh!” This time, Ms. Kieran hissed from across the room, but the threat of her coming back and harassing us up close, let alone making everyone in the media center think Josh and I were an item, made me exit out of the computer and head back to the table where I’d left my backpack.

  Josh left even faster, and without a backward glance. But he’d wanted to kiss me. Too bad he wanted to kiss Penelope, too.

  “ . . . happy birthday, dear Mary—MB—” My family’s voices blended together in their usual rank disharmony, Jane’s trilling in with my adopted nickname, which threw everyone utterly out of whack for the last line.

  A cake with fifteen matching candles and three left over from someone else’s birthday cake glimmered up at me, and I flushed. Eighteen. In my last year of high school and ready to do great things. Well, as soon as I did my Physics project and forgot all about Josh and Penelope and Chrissie and Mr. Paymar and everything else at Woodbury High.

  I took a deep breath and blew.

  Mom squealed with delight, as if I were three years old, Cat sulked, and Jane and Liz—on either side of me—leaned in at the same moment for a mildly claustrophobic hug. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on snapping pictures with his digital camera, even though he tended to cut off everyone’s head and hadn’t ever figured out how to download or print pictures, which was why we had no family pictures from the last two years.

  Which was fine by me.

  “Presents!” My mom squealed again, as if she were getting presents, and ran out of the room and back a moment later with a large gift. She set it in front of me on the dining room table. “I know you’re eighteen and practically grown up and intent on making all sorts of changes.” She glared at Jane and Liz, who grinned. “But I wanted to get you something special. Because you’re still our Mary, no matter what else happens.”

  Now, there was a chilling thought.

  “I wanted to get you some new sheet music for piano—you know, something current, like the Beatles.”

  Liz snorted. “Mom, the Beatles were current when you were a kid.”

  Mom frowned at Liz but kept going. “Your father suggested we get something more academic for you, though, since you’ll be in college next fall. I don’t know that much about educational software, but if it’s the wrong thing, I’m sure we can exchange it.” One hand still on the gift, she sighed. “It certainly cost enough, so I want you to appreciate it.”

  Horrified, I stared at Dad, who winked at me. Jane looked as mystified as I did, but Liz’s lips were twitching. I looked down at the wrapped gift, complete with three wildly mismatched bows, and wondered what kind of educational software came in such a large box.

  “Anyway.” Mom nodded to herself, clearly pleased at having done something nice and educational. “Your father also mentioned that certain types of educational software are tied in to music, which might be exactly what you’re looking for as you hopefully decide to resume your piano studies.”

  Oh. My. God. Piano educational software. As Mom smiled brightly at me, I felt my jaw go slack and my eyes widen to the size of cue balls. The gift sat unopened before me on the dining room table, and the steak dinner I’d just eaten started bubbling in my stomach.

  “Open it!” Mom clapped her hands, and even Dad nodded encouragingly.

  He would. He told her to buy me educational software.

  Resisting the urge to leap to my feet and run away from this nightmare, I stared across the table at my deranged mother. “Mom, if you don’t know much about software, how did you know where to shop for it? Or what to get?”

  “So many questions!” Mom swished her hand in the direction of the gift I had zero interest in unwrapping. Hadn’t my day been bad enough already? “I asked Liz to help, and she thought this would be perfect inspiration for any serious musician.”

  Another traitor. I glared at her, and she grinned even more broadly. I finally tore off half an inch of paper, but I couldn’t tell what it was. And didn’t care.

  “Oh, come on. Faster!” Mom’s grin was starting to droop into a pout now, and Dad frowned at me.

  I ripped all the way across the package. And saw—

  Huh?

  Dad nodded. “This, er, type of educational software actually requires an operating system, which I thought would be useful for everyone, so I took the liberty of buying a Wii.” He nodded at Mom. “There are an amazing number of educational and mind-strategy programs one can use with the Wii. I can’t believe we didn’t buy this years ago.”

  Shaking my head, I glanced down at the half-unwrapped gift in front of me. Educational programs? Mind strategies?

  Then why did the box say “Guitar Hero”?

  Liz hooted and reached across Jane to get to my gift, ripping off the rest of the wrapping paper.

  Definitely Guitar Hero.

  I bounced on the edge of my chair. “Dad, you rock!”

  He held up a hand. “Remember, it was your mother’s idea. She gets all the credit.”

  Mom’s jaw sagged as she took in the picture on the box and sounded out the upside-down words. She blanched. “Guitar Hero? Howard?” Her voice started to screech. “Liz?”

  Liz started fighting me for the Guitar Hero box. On the other side of me, Jane clapped her hands. Across the table, Cat sat back, arms folded, looking as happy as Mom. Like, not at all.

  “Liz! Howard!”

  Mom’s eyes looked a bit wild, so I grinned at her. “Wow! Thanks, Mom. This is so cool!” Someone kicked me under the table. “And, um,
it looks really educational.”

  Dad patted Mom’s hand. “See, dear? You wanted to make Mary happy with an educational sort of thing, and I don’t know when I’ve seen her so happy.”

  “But, Howard—”

  He kept patting Mom’s hand as Liz practically threw herself into my lap and tried to grab the box out of my hands. I held on tight.

  “Howard, I don’t understand. You said we were going to buy something educational for Mary. Something that would encourage her to keep playing piano.”

  Of course, Dad also told Mom that Lydia was attending an elite boarding school in Montana. The only thing true about that was the Montana part.

  Dad glanced across the table at me, probably wondering how soon he could swipe the box from me. “Guitar Hero is very educational, and it will instill in Mary and, really, in all of us—” He looked pointedly at me. Yep, he definitely planned to steal it at the first opportunity. “—a deeper appreciation of all forms of music.”

  Mom didn’t look either convinced or happy. A Wii and Guitar Hero in the same day? I mean, it was for me, technically, but I knew everyone except Mom would make a grab for it the moment I finished unwrapping gifts. If not sooner.

  Dad cleared his throat as he looked at me. “Of course, your mother isn’t the only person here who thinks educational gifts are important.”

  Liz jumped in. “You should see what I got Mary. Talk about educational.”

  Jane jabbed Liz in the ribs.

  Dad’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, well, I don’t recall seeing whatever it was. But I did some shopping of my own.”

  Five heads turned in Dad’s direction. Dad? Buying a gift for someone? He hadn’t even bought gifts for Mom since Jane had been old enough to shop—at age ten. Sure, he’d gotten the Wii, but that was technology, which was like cars to Dad. Toys for grown-up boys.

  Dad slipped away from the table, into the living room, and returned moments later with something big and shiny hidden behind his back. Except it wasn’t completely hidden.

  “Dad?” I jumped up from the table. “Is that—”

  He whipped a guitar from behind his back. A metallic-blue electric guitar. A Flying V electric guitar. A Gibson Flying V. Oh. My. God. Something else Dad couldn’t afford. Was it rented? Or stolen? Would I wake up from this dream tomorrow and have to give it back?