by S. Walden
“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.
I shook my head, tears streaming. “I’m just having a bad day,” I choked out, then left the table.
I decided I was going to be pathetic and immature because I earned it. But only once. My heart pounded painfully as I opened his classroom door. He looked up from his work, and I saw a slight shake of his head, a silent plea not to make a scene. That wouldn’t shut me up.
“You humiliated me,” I said, closing his door. “You hurt me more than anyone.”
He said nothing. I sobbed unabashedly.
“You used me,” I went on.
“I didn’t,” he said.
“You did,” I insisted. “You took advantage of me because I’m young and stupid!”
“I didn’t, Cadence.”
“Don’t say my name! Don’t ever say my name again!”
He was quiet.
“I hate that I have to see you every day. I hate that I have to be in your class. I hate that you hurt my heart and I can’t fix it.” I paused for a moment. “I hate you. I really really hate you.”
He winced. And then he went back to work. He was cold and heartless, and it made me rage inside. I didn’t know what I expected him to do or say, but I didn’t expect him to go back to his grading. My body moved even as my mind yelled, “Stop!” I thought I would hit him, but I didn’t. I stretched my arms far out in front of me and swept his desk clean. His soda, files, graded papers, ungraded papers, binders, books, laptop. All gone. All dumped on the floor in a messy heap, orange liquid leaking from the can staining papers.
He didn’t react, and I was glad for it. I walked out of his room, trembling from my actions and satisfied that I had the guts to do it. Only the tiniest pinprick in my chest signaled guilt over pushing his laptop to the floor. I’ve no idea why, but as I walked back to my locker, I wondered if I’d broken it and if he’d make me pay for it.
***
“Why?” Fanny asked as she set a cup of tea in front of me.
“You know I don’t like tea,” I said.
“It helps with heart matters, hon,” she replied. “Trust me.”
I didn’t argue. I plopped one sugar cube in my cup and poured in a generous amount of milk.
“He said we were in different places,” I said.
“Well, of course you are! He’s a man and you’re a woman! Is the guy an idiot?”
That made me smile. “He means like life stages and emotional maturity.”
Fanny thought for a moment.
“Okay. So it’s not ideal. There is an age difference, and you are still in high school.”
I nodded.
“But he was fine with that before,” she went on.
“Yeah, before I had a pregnancy scare,” I blurted.
Fanny’s eyes went wide. “Oh, dear.”
I felt the need to explain. “It was one time. One very irresponsible time on both our parts, but I’m not pregnant, so I thought everything was fine.”
Fanny was quiet.
“You think it’s wrong I had sex, right?”
“Why would you think that?” she asked.
“Because I’m a Christian, and Christians aren’t supposed to have sex until they’re married.”
“Is that so?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what I’ve been taught.”
“Hmm.”
I sipped my tea and waited for an explanation.
“You’re a smart girl, Cadence.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Where are you going with this?” she asked.
I sighed. “It’s probably better he broke up with me. I’m a Christian and he’s not. I was having sex when I shouldn’t have been. I was doing everything wrong. I’m a terrible Christian.”
“You are?”
“You know I am!” I cried. “I might as well not even be one anymore!”
Silence.
“Cadence? When did you start allowing people to dictate your relationship with God?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t want a relationship with God anymore because other people in your life make you feel like you do everything wrong? Do you realize how silly that is?”
“Well, they’re the experts.”
“Ha! Experts, my ass. I only know one expert.”
“You’re talking about God, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, I am. And maybe you need to be listening to him instead of the people around you. Ever thought of that? I mean, he’s God after all. Don’t you think he’d know a little more than your parents or Gracie or whoever else is making you feel like shit for your choices?”
I was floored.
“Now, back to Mark. I doubt he broke up with you because of the pregnancy scare,” Fanny said.
I was still floored.
“This is something else entirely,” she went on.
I stared at her through bug eyes.
“Cadence, you’re part of this conversation. Speak.”
“Well, um, he mentioned not liking feeling out of control all the time,” I said. “I don’t really understand what he means. He never seemed out of control to me.”
“Maybe you made him feel too much,” Fanny said.
“Is that bad?” I asked, stirring my tea.
“For some people it is,” Fanny explained.
“Then why did he go after me?”
“Maybe he didn’t understand how much he’d feel for you,” Fanny said. “Maybe he thought he could control it. Or control you.”
I tensed. “I don’t like that, Fanny.”
“Hey, I’m just putting it out there. He is ten years older than you, Cadence. Maybe he thought it would be the kind of relationship where you submitted to him.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
Fanny drew in her breath. “I don’t know this man. I only know that he’s good with fixing things around the house and that you love him.”
I smiled reluctantly.
“Sip,” Fanny ordered, and I obliged her by bringing the teacup to my lips. “He obviously needs to feel like he’s in control. Perhaps that’s why he went after someone so young.”
I bristled. Fanny saw it.
“Calm down. We all have issues, Cadence. Just because you dated him and still love him doesn’t mean you have to make everyone around you believe he’s perfect. No one in the whole damn world is perfect.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” I muttered.
“Something happened to him, and that’s why he’s a control freak. He started feeling out of control with you, and I think that brought up some painful shit from his past. So it was easier to end it than work through it.”
“Are you, like, a therapist or something?” I asked.
“No, I’ve just lived a while,” Fanny replied. “Sip.”
I brought the cup to my lips automatically.
“I also think he loves you very much and never really wanted to break up with you.”
“And why do you think that?”
“Because, honey. Why would anyone want to break your heart?”
“You said people hurt each other all the time. That butterflies die and that’s when breakups happen,” I reminded her.
“No, Cadence. I’m not talking about butterflies. I’m talking about you. Why would anyone want to break your heart?”
I had no idea. I didn’t think I was the perfect girlfriend, but I thought I was a good one. I thought I was a good one because I loved him.
I shook my head and took another sip.
Mr. Connelly broke up with me two days before Valentine’s Day. I realized I’d have to put on one hell of a show today to hide my humiliation and hurt. Red and white heart balloons clogged the hallways Friday morning. The front office was attacked by bouquets of every color rose. Students delivered candy grams throughout the day, interrupting class and causing jealousies among the girls. I was no exception, but I hid my jealousy in my heart where no one could see.
/> Math class was a complete waste of time. Mr. Connelly didn’t teach. He passed out practice sheets instead, and we worked in groups of three.
Jacob walked up to me and placed a single pink rose on my desk.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking up the flower.
“You’ve looked a little sad since yesterday. I thought you might like a rose to cheer you up,” he replied. “Wanna work together on this practice sheet?”
I nodded. “Thank you for the rose. I’m sure the rumors are already starting,” I said, glancing around the room. A few students looked curious, but most paid no attention.
“Would it bother you?” he asked, taking a seat beside me.
“What?” I replied. “Rumors of us being together?”
He nodded.
“No.” I mostly said it so that I wouldn’t hurt Jacob’s feelings. But there was a tiny part of me that really did not care. Then again, I didn’t care much about anything. Certainly not this worksheet in front of me. “I don’t really feel like doing this.”
“Oh. You want me to go?”
I chuckled. “No. You can stay. We can talk.”
Jacob looked surprised. “Cool. Well, what do you wanna talk—”
The alarm bell sounded. Why would anyone schedule a fire drill on Valentine’s Day? Wading through the balloons in the hallway turned into a tangled mess of limbs and ribbons, and once we made it outside, we stood in the cold for twenty minutes while teachers took roll. Some students were missing, so we were forced to wait outside while the building was searched. Turns out the students were discovered in stairwells and classrooms making out. Assholes. When we were finally allowed back inside, there was little class time left, and Jacob seemed disappointed.
I mustered the courage to look at Mr. Connelly once during class. I wanted to see if there was any shame written on his face for breaking up with me right before this obnoxious holiday. He only looked busy—very busy—hunched over his desk writing. Grading. Doodling. Who knows? I hoped he felt like shit.
I carried my flower all day because it was comforting. I didn’t like Jacob romantically, but I liked how kind he was. And thoughtful. I think he understood that I wasn’t interested in him, yet he still gave me a rose. He was just one of those genuinely nice guys, and I decided I’d take my rose home and put it in water. Try to keep it alive as long as possible.
“This day is complete bullshit,” Avery said, taking the empty chair beside mine at lunch. I looked down at her shirt that read, “Valentine’s Day is a satanic holiday.” I laughed, and it felt so good.
“Why do you say that?” I asked. “You’ve got a boyfriend.”
“So what? I still think it’s a bullshit holiday,” she replied. “And I can guarantee you Gavin isn’t going to think to do anything special for me.”
Her tone was so sulky and sad that I instinctively put my arm around her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t I be comforting you?” she asked.
I squeezed her then went back to staring at my food. I hadn’t eaten in two days. I lost my appetite right around 4:27 on Wednesday afternoon.
“I’m okay. Well, actually that’s not true. I’m numb.” I thought for a moment then smiled, adding, “Comfortably numb.”
“I’m sorry he did that to you, Cadence,” Avery said.
“I know, Avery.”
She already said this to me a dozen times, and I knew she was trying to be supportive, but I didn’t want to hear it anymore. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t help me understand. I still couldn’t comprehend how a person could claim to love someone “very much” and then break up with her. It made absolutely no sense, and I think my puzzlement over the entire ordeal was the only thing keeping me from constant, around-the-clock sobbing. I wasn’t good at thinking and crying simultaneously.
“Where’d you get the rose?” Avery asked, fingering the pale pink petals.
“Jacob gave it to me,” I replied.
“How cute,” Avery said, then stuck her finger in her mouth like she was trying to make herself throw up.
“Real mature,” I replied. “And it is cute. You know what he said to me this morning?”
“What’s that?”
“He said, ‘You looked sad since yesterday, so I thought this might cheer you up’.”
“A flower that’s gonna wilt by the end of the day?” Avery asked.
“Man, you are one cold-hearted bitch,” I replied.
Avery laughed. “Seriously, though. That’s a really sweet gesture. When did he give it to you?”
“During math class.”
“Oh,” Avery said, perking up. “Did Mr. Douchebag see?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I hope he did. Asshole.”
I shrugged.
“We should do something tonight,” Avery suggested. “Like a girls’ night. An anti-Valentine’s Day mega party night.” Her eyes glittered with mischief, and I knew it was trouble.
“What do you mean by ‘mega party night’?” I asked.
“Nothing super naughty. Let’s make mixed drinks and get drunk while we watch ‘80s movies,” Avery said.
“Where would we do that?”
Avery thought for a moment, and then her face lit up. “Gavin’s apartment!”
I grunted. “How would it be a girls’ night if he’s there?”
“He won’t be. I’ll make him go stay the night with one of his loser friends,” Avery said.
“I don’t know . . .”
“What’s there not to know? It’s perfect! I’ll get him to buy us alcohol and have it waiting for us when we get there. I’ll make sure he cleans his bathroom. He’s pretty good about keeping his place clean, actually.”
“Avery, don’t you wanna spend Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I see him all the time, Cadence. I’d rather spend this majorly crappy holiday with you.”
And that was the turning point in our relationship. In that moment, Avery became a real friend. No more faux anything. She was my friend, and she wanted to make me feel better.
“Thank you,” I whispered, fighting back the tears.
“Don’t you dare cry, you little pussy,” she replied. “And you better get hammered tonight.”
“We won’t go anywhere, will we?” I asked.
“No way,” Avery replied. “No repeats of your ‘big mistake’.” She grinned, and I laughed.
“Good, because I’m eighteen, you know. This time I’d go to real jail,” I said.
“As opposed to pretend jail?”
“Well, kids’ jail, anyway,” I said. I picked up my rose and sniffed it.
“I don’t wanna go to real jail either, so we’ll just stay in.” Avery winked at me.
“I’m excited,” I said after a time.
“Me, too,” Avery replied, but I thought she was talking about having a real friend instead of our mega party night.”
***
Ciara’s “Click Flash” is always a good choice when you’re a girl, and you’re without a boyfriend, and you’re drunk off your ass. Oh yeah. And you have a camera phone.
“It’s my turn, Avery!” I whined, pushing my ass out and looking over my shoulder demurely. I pouted for the camera.
Avery swayed dangerously from side to side as she snapped the picture, holding up her martini glass and sloshing her drink all over the rug.
“You are so freaking hot, Cadence,” Avery said, tipping her glass to her lips. She pulled it away, confused. “Where’s my drink?”
“You spilled it all over Gavin’s floor. Uh oh. You’re in trouble,” I giggled
“Oh, man.” She looked so disappointed, like she forgot we had an entire pitcher of pomegranate martinis in the kitchen. She slid her glass on the coffee table and started flipping through our movie selection.
“Do you ever wish you were a teen in the ‘80s?” I asked, sitting beside her on the couch.
�
��Hmm. Well, look at pop culture. The ‘80s aren’t much different from now if you think about it,” Avery replied.
“Not much different? Have you seen answering machines from the ‘80s?”
“Pop culture, Cadence. I didn’t say anything about technology.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, ‘80s fashion is back. Hollywood is remaking all the ‘80s classics. Even music is starting to sound like stuff from the ‘80s,” she explained.
I thought for a moment. “You’re so right.”
“Everything old is new again,” Avery said, and hiccupped.
“Are you my friend?” I asked out of nowhere.
“Are you mine?” she replied.
Brief pause.
“Oh Avery!” I said, and flung my arms around her. “I knew you wanted to be my friend from the moment you talked to me in the cafeteria! And you were just trying to act all big and bad in case I didn’t want to be your friend. But I do want to be your friend, Avery! I do!”
“Oh my God. You’re such a sap,” Avery replied, but she hugged me back. “And yes, I wanted to be your friend.”
I drew back and studied her face. “So now we’re truly friends!”
“Yes, Cadence.”
“Not just pretend friends,” I clarified.
“No, Cadence. Not just pretend friends.”
I squealed. “It feels so good to have a friend!”
“Yes, Cadence. Now will you focus?” Avery asked.
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay, so we’ve got Fast Times, Can’t Buy Me Love, Lucas, Say Anything . . .”
“Wait, is that the one where he holds up the boom box while she’s lying in bed?” I asked.
“Uh huh. Freaking awesome,” Avery replied.
“Let’s do it,” I said, and skipped to the kitchen to get our pitcher of alcohol.
We settled onto the couch with our refills and started the movie. Just then I heard the jangling of keys in the door lock, and the apartment door opened.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Avery demanded as we watched Gavin and one of his friends walk in. “You’re supposed to be far away. This is girls’ night.”
“Sorry, babe,” Gavin replied. “I forgot some video games.”
“Video games?” Avery asked suspiciously. “Like your retard friend over here doesn’t have a library full of video games?”
