SSDTU 2 - He’s So not Worth It

by Kieran Scott

  “What’s up with them?” I asked, lifting my chin.

  In the corner by Faith’s prized dollhouse, Faith gestured at Chloe, whose eyes were on the floor, and Shannen, whose eyes were on me.

  I sat down next to Todd and looked at the TV.

  “Chick drama,” Todd said, tossing me the third controller. On the screen, two snowboarders raced down a slalom hill.

  Hammond was still at the bottom of the stairs. Now he made his move, walking slowly across the carpeted room. Todd and Trevor shouted in protest as he blocked their game for a split second, but he didn’t notice or care. When he got to the girls, Faith stopped yammering and, aside from Trevor and Todd’s chewing and the sound effects coming through the surround sound, the place was silent.

  “Chloe, can I talk to you?”

  “Does he really need to be here?” Chloe asked Faith. She didn’t even look at Hammond.

  Faith bit her lip, fiddling with her car keys for some reason. “Come on, Chloe. Can’t you at least just talk to him?”

  “Fine.” Chloe rolled her eyes and scoffed. She grabbed her bag off the couch and started for the door. “If he’s staying, I’m leaving.”

  “Chloe, wait,” Faith called.

  Chloe stopped right in front of the TV and Todd’s boarder hit a tree.

  “Oh, man! What the hell, Chloe?”

  I paused the game.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to be ambushed,” Chloe said, whirling on Faith. “You said it was going to be just the two of us. Then she walks in.” She gestured at Shannen with her bag. “And now Hammond? What are you trying to do?”

  “I’m trying to keep the group from completely self-destructing! Doesn’t anybody care about that but me?” Faith said, turning her palms out. Her long blond hair hung down around her shoulders and for once in her life, she wasn’t wearing two tons of makeup. Even her outfit was different from usual. Plain brown shorts and a white tank top. No popsicle-colored minidress or too-hip jewelry or ridiculous heels. “If it makes you feel any better, I told the guys it would be just them, and Shannen, too. None of them knew.”

  “Oh, good. So you’re the only liar in the room,” Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, wait! Shannen and Hammond already proved they were liars.”

  “Chloe—,” Shannen began.

  “No. You don’t even talk to me,” Chloe said, lifting one finger from her bag. “You knew for two years that my boyfriend cheated on me, but you never felt the need to tell me until it fit into one of your stupid anti-Ally plots.”

  Then she turned on Hammond. “And you . . . you’ve liked her all this time, haven’t you?” Her bottom lip trembled so badly I felt embarrassed. “What was I, just some, like, pseudo-Ally? Someone to hang out with while you pined and prayed for her to come back?”

  Hammond’s jaw was set as he stared at Chloe. Was that true? Did he still like Ally?

  “That’s not how it is,” he said. “You know it’s not.”

  He tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away.

  “I don’t know anything, obviously,” she said. Then she took in a breath. “Thanks a lot, Faith. I didn’t have enough public humiliation this week. I really appreciate it.”

  She stormed up the stairs and a few seconds later the front door slammed.

  Faith looked like she was about to cry.

  “I think I’m gonna walk home,” Hammond said.

  I started to get up from the couch. “I’ll take you.”

  “Guys, come on,” Faith said. Pleaded, really. “I still have the food, and I really—”

  But Hammond was already gone. I stood up straight. The idea of staying here with Shannen, who I had nothing to say to, and a tearful Faith was not happening.

  “I’d better go,” I said. “Sorry Faith.”

  And I was out. On my way to the door, I heard Todd ask if it was okay if they kept playing.

  Outside, Hammond was nowhere to be seen. Chloe’s car was gone. I got in the Jeep and reversed out of the driveway. As I drove down the hill toward town, I suddenly knew for absolute sure that I had to call Ally. Of everyone I knew, she was the only person I actually wanted to hang out with. Who cared if I had to grovel to be with her? What was that old saying? Something about the ends justifying the means? At the first stoplight I came to, I grabbed my phone and let my thumb hover over the A button. But I froze.

  I couldn’t do it. I was too fucking scared. God, I hated myself.

  The light turned green. Cursing under my breath, I dropped the phone on the passenger seat and hit the gas.

  Daily Field Journal of Annie Johnston Tuesday, June 29

  Location: Orchard Hill Country Club lobby.

  Cover: Applying for a summer job as a ball girl. As if I’d ever show that much leg.

  Observations:

  10:01 a.m.: Subject Faith Kirkpatrick arrives. Uniform: gauzy, see-through cover-up, silver sandals, string bikini, huge straw sun hat. Subject strides past without seeing me. (Note: I am, after all, invisible.) At end of hallway leading to locker room, Subjects Corrine Law (graduated senior) and Tiara Weston (finished freshman year at Duke by the skin of her teeth [see random gossip item #142 in appendix B]). Subject Faith gives them a bright “Hi, guys!” Subjects Corinne and Tiara reply with less enthusiastic “hi’s” and keep walking. Subject Faith visibly embarrassed, proceeds to locker room. (Assessment: Faith is a loser among Cresties. Personal Note: Payback’s a bitch.)

  Location: Orchard Hill Country Club poolside.

  Cover: Applying for a summer job as a lifeguard. As if I can swim.

  Observations:

  10:31 a.m.: Subject Faith lies on a lounge chair. She takes out her phone and dials.

  Faith: “Hi, Chloe! I’m at the club pool! Come by if you get a chance! I have prime real estate between the snack bar and the warm water corner! Call me!”

  Subject hangs up. Frowns. Dials again.

  Faith: “Hi, Shannen! What are you doing later? We should get together before I leave for the shore! Call me!”

  Subject hangs up. Frowns some more. Dials.

  Faith: “Hammond! It’s Faith! Come to the club pool! That lifeguard you guys like is on duty! Bring the twins! Call me!”

  Subject hangs up. She looks at her phone. Considers. Sighs. Places it next to her thigh. (Note: It needs to be in grabbing distance for all the callbacks she’s not going to get.) Subjects Corinne and Tiara walk by. Neither acknowledges Subject Faith. (Assessment: Faith Kirkpatrick has no friends. Also, she’s destined for frown lines. Personal Note: Nice.)

  “Jake? Can I see you for a moment, please?”

  My mother stood at the door of my room. There was a piece of paper in her hand. I had no idea what it was, but there was something ominous about it.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Downstairs.”

  She turned around and went. Yeah. Very not good. I shoved myself off my bed and followed, walking through the cloud of flowery perfume that always trailed her. Her jewel-covered flip-flops left tiny footprints in the heavy carpeting of the hallway and made slapping sounds as she walked down the stairs. Why did I suddenly feel like those slapping sounds were the soundtrack of doom?

  In the kitchen, my mother walked to the other side of the island and placed the paper down in front of me. Now I could see it was my report card.

  Shit.

  “Three Cs, a C minus, one B, and an A,” she said. “In gym.” The dark red helmet of her hair kind of trembled. Never a good sign.

  “Yeah, but that C minus was totally unfair,” I said, leaning forward into the island across from her. “Mr. Caswell is a complete douche.”

  My mother flinched. “Language.”

  “Sorry. It’s just—”

  She held up her hand. The huge diamond on her ring finger swung around to face me. “Jake, I just talked to your father and we’ve decided that there’s only one thing we can do here.”

  “What?” I swallowed hard.

  “You’re
grounded.”

  “What!?”

  “For the summer.”

  “What!?”

  Grounded for the summer? What did that even mean?

  “No more Mrs. Nice Guy, Jake,” she said, walking over to the fridge and yanking it open. She took out the glass pitcher filled to the brim with water, ice, and sliced lemon, then let the door slam. “Between this report card and your SATs, you’re going to be lucky to get into Bergen Community next year, let alone Fordham.”

  “But mom—”

  “There are no buts here,” my mother said. The ice tinkled as she set the pitcher down on the counter. “It’s about time you start taking your life seriously. I’ve already called this new SAT tutor Connor’s mother recommended and secured her services for the summer, and tomorrow morning you’re going to go out and get a job.”

  I blinked. She might as well have just dumped the whole pitcher over my head. “A job?”

  “We need to prove to the admissions people that you’re a serious, well-rounded person.” She turned her ring back around so the rock was face up, then laid her hands down flat on the granite counter. The lights overhead were reflected in her shiny pink and white fingernails. “In this economy, sloth is frowned upon, Jake. You need to show them you’re willing to work for what you get.”

  She wasn’t making any sense. “But I can’t go out and get a job here. We’re leaving for the shore on Thursday.”

  My mother cleared her throat and turned her back to me, plucking a glass out of the cabinet. Everything inside me sank.

  “Mom, you can’t—”

  “Your brother is leaving for the shore on Thursday,” she said. Her hand shook a little as she closed the cabinet door. She paused for a minute and drew herself up before turning around again. Like she was gathering her strength for the boxing ring. “He’s going to be staying with Jason’s family, and your father will go down some weekends. We, however, will be staying here.”

  “No,” I said. I walked around the island and stood in front of her. She held on to her glass, touching the opening at the top with her flat palm over and over, like she was playing a bongo. “Mom, no. You can’t ground me from the shore.”

  “Do you think this is fun for me, Jake?” There was something almost menacing in her eyes and she spoke through her teeth. “If you can’t go, I can’t go.”

  Yeah. Mom was not happy. If she had to stay here with me it meant losing out on quality bonding time with all her Crestie girlfriends. The lobster bakes, the sailing trips, the farmers’ markets. She lived for that shit. So maybe, just maybe, all she needed was a push in the right direction.

  “Well then forget about this and let’s both go!” I said, already seeing three moves ahead—and I never saw three moves ahead. “I can get an SAT tutor down there! I can get a job down there!”

  “And you’ll also be up all night partying with your friends and running around meeting girls,” my mother shot back. She set the glass down, braced her hands on the granite for a moment, then poured herself some water. “No way, Jake,” she said resolutely. “There are just too many distractions down the shore. I need you focused this summer.”

  She picked up her drink and started for the sliding doors, which led to our patio and pool. I walked over to the table and dropped down in the nearest chair. My hands propped up my head as I stared through the glass top at my bare feet. This had to be a nightmare.

  “Oh, and I also signed you up for an American Literature class at BCC,” she said. “It starts in a couple of weeks and according to your vice principal, if you ace that, they’ll change your C minus to a B plus for the year.”

  I let my hands drop. “So while all of my friends are down the shore surfing, partying, and hanging out, I’m going to be working, studying, and reading?”

  “If you wanted to have fun this summer, you should have worked harder during the year,” she said flatly.

  “If you’d warned me this was going to happen, maybe I would have.”

  She shook her head. Smiled like I was so stupid. “Well, then consider this a warning for next year.”

  I glared after her as she walked off toward the pool. This could not be happening. I was not going to spend my entire summer stuck here with her while Hammond, Chloe, Shannen, Faith, and Todd and Trevor were hanging out down the shore.

  And Ally. There went any chance in hell I had of making up with Ally.

  I shoved away from the table, grabbed my car keys, and stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard she’d be sure to hear, even all the way out back. It wasn’t until my feet hit the pavement and their bottoms were scorched off that I realized I had no shoes on. Fuck it. I could drive without shoes.

  As I floored it out the driveway, I almost careened into a white contractor’s truck that was turning into Chloe’s. The guy behind the wheel cursed at me, but I just kept going. All I wanted to do was go and see Ally.

  I stopped at the bottom of Harvest Lane and cursed again. I couldn’t go see Ally. She was five minutes away, but I couldn’t go see her because Ally didn’t want to see me.

  I put the Jeep in park, slammed my hands against the wheel, and tried to breathe. The sun was beating down on my face, and when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, there were beads of sweat on my forehead.

  This sucked. Everything, everything, everything sucked.

  And now, even if a miracle happened and Ally and I made up, it wasn’t going to be any five minute drive to see her. I was going to be three hours away from her all summer long.

  “Dude, that is so not right,” David Drake said, laughing through a mouthful of a Nathan’s hamburger. Marshall Marino was dipping his onion rings into his Häagen Dazs coffee icecream shake and popping them, dripping wet, into his mouth. Disgusting. But oddly intriguing.

  “You have no idea what you’re missing, man,” Marshall replied, slurping some shake off his chin.

  Annie leaned her elbows on the table, shoving back her zillion rubber bracelets as if she was pushing up long sleeves. For the past few days she’d been experimenting with dark eye shadow, so when she narrowed her eyes at Marshall, they almost disappeared. “Are you, perhaps . . . pregnant?”

  David and I laughed as Marshall flung an onion ring at her. I sat back in my chair and sighed. This was what summer was all about. Hanging out in a frigidly air-conditioned mall, eating junk food with my friends. Not sitting in Gray’s shore house listening to Quinn sing show tunes, watching Gray and my mom make out, wondering what new torture the Cresties were devising for me two houses down.

  “What’s your deal, Sigh-ey McGhee?” Annie asked.

  “What?” I blinked and sat up straight.

  “You just sighed, like, four times in a row,” David pointed out.

  Marshall confirmed with a nod of his head as he sucked half his shake down through the straw.

  “I was just thinking . . . maybe if I stay with my dad, I could get a second job here,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table. “I could just spend all my time out of the house, working, and kind of . . . power through the summer. Then, I not only wouldn’t have to live with my Mom, Gray, and the cheerleader, I’d also barely have to deal with my dad and all the awkwardness.”

  Annie rolled her eyes as she sipped her soda. “That sounds like fun.”

  I rolled my eyes back and stole an onion ring from Marshall. “Well, I’d hang with you guys, too.”

  “I’m for that plan, then,” Marshall said, giving me a joking wink.

  “Your mom hasn’t said anything to you about it yet?” David asked, his feet bouncing under the table.

  I shook my head. “She said she got the message and we’d talk about it later. So now I’m both dreading and looking forward to later. Whenever that ends up being.”

  I had tried, as promised, to talk my mom into calling my dad and hearing him out—I had even hinted at his grand master plan—but my mother had basically shut me down. She’d said she would call my dad when she was good and ready. When I
’d asked when that might be, she’d turned up the volume on the television so loud my eardrums hurt.

  “Ally, all I’m hearing here is that you want to avoid all the conflicts in your life,” Annie said, placing her soda on the table and lacing her fingers over her stomach.

  “Oh, boy. Here we go.” David crumpled a napkin. “This happens every summer. She’s been watching Dr. Phil again.”

  “Shut it, Drake,” Annie snapped, her eyes disappearing again. Then she looked at me, her expression eerily neutral. “What you need to ask yourself is (a) what do you really want? and (b) what do you need to do to get it?”

  My smile faltered a bit. Because what I wanted was for my parents to get back together. And I wasn’t going to get it if they were apart all summer, no matter what kind of plans my dad had up his sleeve.

  “Can we go now?” I said, looking at the guys.

  “Most definitely.” Marshall rose from his chair, shooting Annie a disturbed look. She was still eyeing me carefully, as if waiting for me to bare my inner soul.

  “You stop watching Dr. Phil,” I admonished. “Cuz you’re freaking me out right now.”

  Annie shook her head as she got up, sliding her tray from the table. “All I know is, if you don’t talk to them soon, you’re gonna bottle it all up till you pop. And when you pop, it’s not gonna be pretty.”

  “Everyone always says that, but it’s so not true,” David said as he shoved his tray into the garbage. He’d cut his hair so short for the summer you could see his scalp, and it shone under the fluorescent lights. “I say, clam the hell up, put on a happy face, and get through the next year. Then you’ll go away to college and you’ll never have to see these people again.”

  “So . . . the approach your sister took,” Annie said, sipping her soda while simultaneously emptying her tray.

  David lifted his shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “The sister you never see and totally resent.”

  He blushed, but lifted his shoulders again. “Well, yeah.”