License to Spill

by Lisi Harrison

  Then I’ll give you the keys.

  And if he says no?

  Then you have to admit he likes me for me and let me have him back. (This won’t happen so I’m not worried.)

  Deal. Octavia offered me her right hand. We shook. Her rings dug into my skin.

  Then the gym doors popped open and the Flames came out, all wet-haired and cheap-soap-scented.

  It’s show time. (Me encouraging her.)

  Sheridan, tell Owdee I had to run. (Octavia.) Hey, Logan, wait up!

  Will do. (Will won’t.)

  My BPMs jumped when I realized I might see Duffy so I ran in the bathroom like I needed to tell Audri something important.

  Digestive tract issues much? (Me busting on her because she’d been in there for a fortnight.)

  Sorry. Have you been waiting for me this whole time? She was standing in front of the mirror, poking a mascara wand down the top of her signature blue-framed glasses.

  It’s okay, I said, even though it wasn’t. Not that I wanted to find Audri all doubled over in a stall clutching her cramping stomach. I didn’t. I’d only wish that on Octavia. But these days jazzy eyes meant she was leaving school with someone whose name rhymes with Bragger.

  I was right. Jagger (allegedly) “just” texted Audri to remind her of their (alleged) “post-rehearsal plan”. A plan she had (allegedly) “forgotten all about.”

  I was about to question Audri’s honesty when Drew told me to let it slide. Thank Dionysus she did. Because what happened next was another gift from the universe.

  END SCENE.

  CUT TO:

  INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY—FIVE MINUTES LATER.

  SHERIDAN leans against a locker and searches her music library for a song to score her friendless journey home. “Maybe” from Annie? “What I Did for Love” from A Chorus Line? “Lean on Me” from Glee season one? Yes, that’s the one. She takes a moment to untangle her earbuds. The unexpected pop of the gym door startles her. She looks up. It’s DUFFY. His shoulders are rounded. His frown is upside down. SHERIDAN’s BPMs double.

  Hey. (Me.)

  Hey. (Duffy.)

  I’m not stalking you, I swear. (Me trying to lighten the mood.)

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  You don’t know what stalking means?

  I know what it means. I’m wondering why you said it.

  I looked around the empty hall before I answered. Um, maybe because I just-so-happened to be standing here when you came out of the gym. Like. A. Stalker. Would.

  That’s it? (Duffy looking kind of freaked out.) No other reason?

  No.

  So you weren’t making a stalking joke on purpose?

  No! Cheeses, do you seriously think I was stalking you?

  He shrugged like it was possible.

  Don’t flatter yourself, Bieber. (I jammed my earbuds in my ears. I didn’t care that the wire was still tangled.) I was just leaving.

  He didn’t try to stop me so I had to keep walking. I hate when that happens.

  Better hurry. Your boyfriend left a while ago. (Duffy.)

  Ground or Next Day Air? (Me.)

  Does it matter?

  No. Yes. Wait up!

  END SCENE.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. STROLLING—LATE AFTERNOON.

  SHERIDAN and DUFFY promenade toward town; lost in conversation, oblivious to the spitting rain.

  Now do you believe Logan isn’t my boyfriend? (Me.)

  Yep. And do you believe I didn’t ditch you at the fashion show? (Duffy.)

  Believe.

  And that I wasn’t trying to lead Lily on?

  Believe.

  And that I don’t think I’m Justin Bieber?

  Belieb.

  Duffy laughed but his eyes still looked sad.

  Bad midterm? (Me.)

  Lowest grade was a B. (Duffy.)

  Same. In what?

  Dramatic Arts. You?

  Phys Ed. (Me.)

  We marveled at the odds of his best subject being my worst and vice versa. Still, his green eyes seemed blue.

  What’s wrong, then? Did something happen during practice? (Me.)

  Kind of, yeah.

  We crossed the street without saying a word. Awk-word. (Ha.)

  Well, aren’t you going to tell me? (Me.)

  It’s not a big deal. (Duffy.)

  Silence again.

  You know what is a big deal? (Me.) Frozen hot chocolate at the Honey Bun. Ever had it?

  Duffy nodded his head, yes. The shaking must have flipped a switch in his brain because the lights came back on behind his eyes. They have this peanut butter one that—

  Please, I invented it. (Me.) I get extra large but they only charge me for a large.

  That’s so cool.

  I know. I save a whole dollar.

  No, I mean it’s cool that you get those. (Duffy.)

  Why?

  My sister Mandy would never. She’s obsessed with food and weight and stuff. Same with her friends. It’s annoying.

  My mom is like that. She’s always saying things like, “I guess I could have a lick of that lollipop. I ran seventy-five miles today. I deserve it.” I swear, it’s like, obsess over something that matters. (Me.)

  Yeah, like extra whip! (Duffy.)

  We laughed.

  Seriously, though. I think it’s cool that you’re just… you know… real.

  My heart thumped “That’s the sweetest thing ever” in Morse code.

  Just as Duffy opened the door to the Honey Bun his skitty (skinny/pretty) sister, Mandy pulled up in her car.

  Get in! (Mandy.)

  Why? (Duffy.)

  It’s raining. (Mandy.)

  So? (Duffy.)

  There’s a huge storm coming. (Mandy.)

  No there isn’t. (Duffy.)

  You have a dentist appointment.

  I do not.

  Mom wants to see you right away. (Mandy.)

  Why? (Duffy.)

  Didn’t say. (Mandy.)

  Tell her I’ll be home soon. (Duffy.)

  Better come now. She’s pissed. (Mandy.)

  Why? Did she see your midterm? (Duffy.)

  Unfunny. (Mandy.)

  It’s okay. (Me, being laid back and cool.) Go.

  Want a ride? (Duffy.)

  No thanks. (Me.)

  The rain started to pick up. We just stood there like it was 72 and sunny.

  You’re going to get a frozen hot chocolate, aren’t you? (Duffy.)

  Kind of.

  No fair. (Duffy.)

  Mandy honked the horn. Let’s go!

  Duffy got in the car and pointed a finger gun at his temple. One minute later he sent this text: Mandy lied. She’s dragging me to the mall to get her paycheck. Should have known. She hates driving alone. You owe me a frozen.—Later.

  And that was my day. Pretty sweet, huh? I accomplished my social goals without any help from Audri. Which makes me wonder if I rely on her too much. Because there’s a big difference between missing Audri and needing Audri. As big as the difference between the large frozen hot chocolate and the extra large. Which is big. (Burp.) Trust me.

  To Be Continued…

  END SCENE.

  October 15th

  Sheridan just texted: Wheels are in motion but I need until Friday, OK?

  I texted back: Approved. One time only. .

  Blackmail? More like a light gray.

  We can’t go to Beni’s before Friday because Dad is at a tech convention, so why not? But when it comes to espionage there is no gray area. Today Lily was a snail, and I was her trail.

  I followed her to every class. I watched her and Blake eat lunch65. I pretended to drink from the water fountain while she used the bathroom—once before second period and again after fifth. I wasn’t quite ready to turn myself in to Principal Alden, but if Lily was going to rat me out, I wanted to beat her to it.

  While forging my final snail trail of the day66 the unexpected happened. Blake pulled up beside me and pinched m
y white oxford shirt.

  “Someone’s looking very Annie Hall today,” he said.

  I didn’t know what Annie Hall meant. Was it an insult or a compliment? Was it a reference to the crowded hall we were in? Luckily, I was still mad at him for ditching me at Octavia’s party so I didn’t feel the need to say anything at all.

  “I’m sorry about Friday night,” he said. “Lily called me crying and—”

  “And she is your girlfriend, so…”

  “Girlfriend?” Blake said, as if I had just accused him of dating a lamp. “Lily’s not my girlfriend.”

  I stopped walking and turned to face him. He needed to see the flecks of seriousness in my green eyes. “That’s not what Caprice told me.”

  His face scrunched up, like I had just burped in his face. “And you believed her?”

  I shrugged.

  “Vanessa.” His hot fudge–colored eyes warmed. “Why would I ask you to go to a party if I had a girlfriend?”

  I liked where he was going and immediately wanted more. I wanted him to convince me that Lily was just a friend and I was that and then some. Only I had lost my visual on Lily. Then my arms started to itch.

  It was a set up! Blake distracted me so Lily could tell Principal Alden what I had done. How could I be so stupid?

  “I have to go!”

  “Wait!” Blake called.

  I didn’t answer. My ears were ringing and my skin was crawling. I ignored the bell and ran straight to Principal Alden’s office. His door was closed.

  FOE NO YOU DIZN’T!

  “Is he in there with someone?” I asked his assistant, Ms. Nadler.

  “Principal Alden is out today meeting with the board members. He’ll be back tomorrow. Is it important?”

  I sighed so hard the papers on her desk blew. “Did anyone else come to see him? Like in the last minute or so? A girl named Lily?”

  Ms. Nadler looked at me over the top of her glasses. “Yes, and I told her the same thing I’m going to tell you. Get. To. Class.”

  So that’s it. Tomorrow, at first light, I turn myself in. I wonder if they have awards in juvie67?

  Surrender to life itself and you’ll just be rewarded with so many things.

  —Jason Mraz

  Monday, October 15, 2012

  Oh, Karess… My buff personal trainer slash DJ on Sundays who spells C-words with K’s… Once upon a time you were nothing more than a fake journal entry. A device designed to tip me off if Mom was snooping. But now? By Kupid, I wish you were real. The idea of Greyhounding it to Florida and opening a gym together kould not be more appealing right now.

  I believe honesty is important in a relationship, in which case you should know that Andrew Duffy was my first krush, not you. I still have trace amounts of feelings for him but he has no interest in me; so no threat there.

  I know, I found it hard to believe at first too. That someone could go from liking me, even as a friend, to shutting me out with such certitude. I assumed he was being held kaptive in his home, because what other explanation could there be? Well, Karess, I was wrong. Duffy was at school today and didn’t seem the least bit post-traumatic. Meaning, he was really just ignoring me. The worst part is I have no klue why. Every time I got klose enough to ask, he took off. He even turned Bubbie Libby against me.

  I arrived to walk their nameless dogs and instead of the usual hair-spray-scented hug, Bubbie Libby relieved me of my duties. She said a girl like me must have better things to do after school and that she was doing me a favor by kutting me loose. I assured her that I liked the job and needed the money but she said, “Kanines aren’t kosher. Why should you kompromise your dietary beliefs for an old bubbie like me?”

  I said I had no plans to eat them, just walk them. But she held firm and klosed the door in my face.

  Trust me, Karess. It gets worse. Mom and Dad are in their bedroom right now whispering about my midterm report kard. Soon they will be standing over my bed, telling me I kan’t go to Noble High anymore.

  So I’m all yours, Karess. Kome get me anytime.

  Until then,

  Lily Bader-Huffman.

  All I wanted was a chance to live in the real world, but no! It’s back to the veal world for me. Mom insisted on straight A’s and I got a B+ in Spanish and an A-in Global Media. So I’m done.

  Even though I’m mad at Vanessa because she could have saved me by changing my grades, I spent all day wanting to know if “the solution” worked for her. Did she pull it off? Was she paranoid? Would she do it again? But Vanessa didn’t want anything to do with me. She made that clear by staying ten feet behind me all day.

  Blake said I should confront her, but I didn’t have it in me. I’m a loser, not a stalker.

  “Will you talk to her?” I asked Blake.

  “Why me?”

  “It’s your fault she hates me. If you hadn’t left her at Octavia’s party—”

  “Lily, you called me collect. You were crying. I didn’t leave to leave, I left to see if you were okay. I was being a good friend. And you know what you’re being?”

  “What?”

  “A Coxsackie.”

  “Why am I the Coxsackie?”

  “Because you’re acting like this is my fault.”

  “It is your fault!” I snapped. “If you would just come out of the closet and tell Vanessa you’re…”—I couldn’t shout “gay” in the hall or Blake would have had an asthma attack, so I widened my eyes where the word “gay” would go.

  “What would that do?”

  “She would stop crushing on you and we could all be friends again.”

  Blake thought about it for a minute. Then he said, “Can’t do it.”

  “Well, what can you do?” I snapped. “Because right now you’re my only friend and I’m about to have a very needy year. So unless you’re prepared to be on-call for me twenty-four/seven I suggest you fix this.”

  Blake took a puff on his inhaler and then handed me his New York Giants zipper binder. “Hold this, I’ll be right back.” And off he went.

  I had a few minutes before Algebra so I hurried to Principal Alden’s to see if there was anything I could do to boost my grades, but Ms. Nadler said he was gone until tomorrow. I told her that tomorrow was too late. I needed to speak with the principal today. She told me to get to class. So I did. With Blake’s binder. He was docked 10 percent for not having his English homework so now he’s mad at me too.

  Mom and Dad just came in.

  Standing above me now.

  Glaring.

  It burns.

  Monday, October 15, 2012

  Janis Joplin sang, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” and if that’s true I, Lily Bader-Huffman, am free.

  All I wanted was a chance to explore life beyond these walls. To acclimate, infiltrate, participate. To make my mark. Now that I’m a Homie again, the only mark I’ll ever make is a giant?

  What would have become of Lily if her parents had let her stay in public school? Would she have won Duffy’s heart? Or a swim meet? Or a scholarship? Would she have gotten kicked out of class for laughing? Served detention? Skipped lunch with her new best friends? Would she have tried out for the cheerleading squad? Or run for student council? Or tried bacon? Or missed curfew? Or had a yearbook? Or gotten asked to prom? Or been valedictorian? Or had a first kiss?

  No one will ever know. Not only because I, Lily Bader-Huffman, will cease to have typical teen experiences, but also because I am no longer required to write about them in this journal.

  Yes, Karess, this means goodbye to you too. Kall me, maybe.

  Oct. 17.

  I was giving Audri a ride home when I noticed it.

  My bike was harder to pedal today than it had been yesterday or Monday or any of the days last week.

  Our backpacks weren’t extra full. Our jean jackets were thin. Mine even had holes.

  So why the extra weight?

  Think, Jagger… think!

  It got even harder
to pedal as we passed Randy’s Exotic Pets.

  That’s when I knew.

  I was pedaling for three.

  Me. Audri. And my lies.

  Hiding them in this journal cleared my pores, not my conscience.

  I have to come clean.

  Not because I’m the Warren Buffett of honesty or anything.

  More because Audri makes New Jersey smell like vanilla. She isn’t afraid to wear blue-framed glasses. She calls making out “baking trout.” Her favorite animal is a sugar glider. She drew a tiny J on her tennis skirt for good luck. And when you know little things like that about someone you want them to know little things like that about you.

  Real things.

  The kind of things that turn like into love.

  Five hours later Audri and I are in the ravine.

  It’s dark.

  The glow-stick crown I made helps her see. It’s pink.

  Mine is yellow. No way am I wearing pink.

  The lights on the tennis court pop on. Audri is relieved.

  She asks why we’re creeping through the woods behind some rich person’s estate.

  I offer her one of the Adirondack chairs I dragged across the lawn after dinner.

  She sits.

  I sit.

  The crescent moon reminds me of her crooked smile.

  I ask if she remembers that secret she told me. About seeing her mom bake trout with some guy who isn’t her dad.

  She says no.

  Then she laughs and says of course she does. It’s not the kind of thing a person forgets.

  Audri’s sarcasm gives me a tingle behind my belt.

  I say I have a secret to tell her. A big one.

  She leans forward. The pink crown slips down her forehead and rests on top of her glasses. She leaves it there. She’s that all-ears.

  I say she can’t tell anyone.

  She crosses her heart, but really, it’s where her boobs are..

  I feel that behind my belt too.

  I begin my confession by asking if she’s ever heard of Legacy Hygienics.

  She says of course. Everyone has.

  It’s true. Legacy Hygienics is the largest manufacturer of hygiene products in North America. They make soap, baby wipes, shampoos, feminine products, lotions, ointments, deodorants, and money.

  Lots and lots of money.

  They are a family-owned company, I tell her. That family is mine.

  Audri gasps.

  I continue.

  The company was started in 1953 by Grandfather Ponnowitz; a real family guy.