“Did you have a question?”
“Yeah. Sort of.” He shifted the weight of his backpack, slung over one shoulder.
I waited, hit by the comforting smell of pencil shavings rising from my nearby trashcan.
“So, you remember being in high school, right?”
What the hell? It was only eight years ago. How old do you think I am?
“Ye-es,” I said slowly. “I remember high school….”
He exhaled. “Oh, good,” he said, as if he doubted whether I would or not. He ran his hand along the far edge of my desk, not making eye contact. “So, did you ever, like, ask a girl to a dance?”
Do I look like a guy who sat home every dance? Wait. Don’t answer that.
“Yes. There were a few I asked someone to.” I tried not to think of Zoe, but it was hard not to. Pretty much my whole life, up until I graduated high school, involved her. It made my heart warm to think of her, while at the same time a bitter taste rose in my mouth.
“Did you have any…you know…tricks?”
I did, in fact, come up with several different ways of asking Zoe out I took pride in. For instance, I’d cut letters out and taped them to the underside of the canvas covering her swing set platform, which was kind of our place. We’d often lie on our backs under that canopy and just talk. I’d agonized about the flower petal trail leading to it, wondering if Zoe would like it, or find it corny, and discovered both were true. I could still smell the fragrance from the bushes near her front porch. Tim waited for an answer.
I shook myself. “Can I ask you a question?”
He blinked, confused, I guess, to be on the receiving end of this exchange with a teacher. “Sure.”
“Who are you planning on asking? If you want to share,” I added quickly. “You don’t have to. But it might help me to strategize.”
“Uhh….” He glanced out in the hall, then at me, his cheeks turning bright. His shoulders hunched. “Ginny Andrews.”
“Ahh. Ginny Andrews.” She was in my fourth hour. “Good choice. Nice girl.”
He let out a breath and smiled. “Yeah. I like her. I mean, she’s nice and all….”
It felt weird to be seated while he stood. I pushed my chair back and got to my feet so I could pace slowly behind my desk. “Ginny seems like a pretty straightforward girl. The kind who’d appreciate almost anything you’d do.” I looked at him and he nodded. “So that’s good. Still…you want to make it special….”
“Exactly.”
I came back to my desk and rested a butt cheek on it as we talked. “I’ve found the best way to handle these things is to…cater them to the audience. Make it an invitation only for Ginny, not something generic you could do for any girl. It will show her you went to the effort of thinking about what she’d like.”
He grinned, his face more animated. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
“Tell me what you know about her. What does she like? She’s on the swim team, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you could sneak something into her swim bag?” He looked at me like that was the lamest thought in the world, and it probably was. “Just thinking out loud. Throwing ideas out.” We sat in silence for several seconds. Maybe all he needed was a sounding board. I knew he lost his dad to cancer a few years ago, much like I’d lost mine, and he needed some male help. But what did I know? I’d wrecked the best relationship in my life.
I can’t think about that.
I rubbed my chin. “What else does she like to do?”
He shrugged. “She likes to read.”
I flirted with the idea of suggesting he slip something into one of her books, but after the way the swim bag idea bombed out, I didn’t want to risk it. “Tell you what, this will require some serious thinking on our parts. What do you say we both brainstorm about it tonight and we’ll reconvene in the morning? Before school. Can you do that? Will you have time?”
“Yeah. Sure. I can come in early.”
I exhaled. “Good. I know we can come up with something.” I stood.
“Thanks, Mr. Issaacs. I really appreciate it.”
I patted his shoulder. “No problem.” I circled back behind my desk. “Thank you for asking me, Tim.” He seemed confused by this, but I was flattered he felt he could share something so personal with me.
He readjusted his backpack as he moved toward the door. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Good night.” He was gone. “Or afternoon, or whatever.” A quiet settled over the room as the door closed behind him. I sat in my chair. Teaching offered so many challenges, and this was just another one. It was never boring; I’d give it that much. I leaned back and laced my hands behind my head. The sun streamed in the windows. Maybe one of the last really nice days of fall. Students yelled at each other across the parking lot. I could hear the voices but not make out the words. The room was stuffy, so I contemplated opening a window.
So Tim wanted to ask a girl to a dance. I smiled. But after a bit, it faded. Staring out the windows I was no longer aware of the action outside.
It was Zoe’s senior year. We broke up before I left for school. I’d tried to do it the year before, but, I couldn’t stay away from her. But I’d found the guts to do it again over the summer. Although I was miserable, I wanted her to enjoy her last year at Lincoln Southwest, and she couldn’t do that mooning over me. But when the first dance rolled around and she didn’t have a date, she asked me if I could come home, just this once. I knew it would be too painful. I already struggled without her as it was. I’d thrown myself into my studies, but college algebra could only do so much to relieve your heartache. Not to mention it kind of defeated the purpose of our breaking up in the first place.
“I don’t know, Zo. It doesn’t seem right for a college guy to come to a high school dance.”
She sighed. “Okay. I get it. Sorry to bother you.”
“No, wait. It’s no—” the line went dead “—bother.” I stared at the phone’s display to make sure she really wasn’t there. “Shit.” I put my elbows on my desk, and stared blankly at my homework. Man, did I wish I could go. To hold Zoe, and dance with her…. It would make everything right in my world. But I’d have to return to University of Colorado, Denver, and, once again, she’d be alone in Lincoln. No guy would approach her if he thought I was still in the picture.
I experienced my first college drunk that night. I was so intent on getting there, I was blitzed by seven-thirty. My friends brought me back to the dorm, dumped me in my not-so-cushy bed, and went back out. The distinct smell of beer overwhelmed me, either coming from my pores, or from the jacket I’d spilt on more than once during the evening. Lying there, watching the ceiling swirl, I, at first, didn’t recognize my cellphone’s vibration and kind of freaked, thinking something was crawling on the bed. After figuring it out, I fumbled with pulling it out and squinted to check the number. I didn’t recognize it, but answered anyway.
“Hey, Zack. This is Maria Alvarez.”
Maria Alvarez? We’d gone to school together, but weren’t exactly friends. I wasn’t even sure how she got my number.
“Hey, Maria. What’s up?”
“Mmm…not much.”
I filled the pause that followed with mentally scratching my head. Why would she call me?
“You know, I know you’re a busy guy, so I’ll get straight to the point. Are you going with Zoe to the dance this weekend?”
The dance, again? “Uhh…no. We broke up before I left for school.”
“Oh, good.”
She was happy we broke up?
“So you can go with me then.”
Ahh. “Well…not that I’m not flattered, but…as I told Zoe, I don’t think it’s right for a college guy to go to a high school dance.”
She said something in Spanish that didn’t sound very complimentary, then hissed between her teeth. “Here’s the thing, Zack. I need a date because Zane is taking Heather.”
Zane who? And what does that have to do w
ith me?
“The way I see it,” she continued, “if I bring a college kid, I score bonus points.”
Could some accounting system exist I wasn’t aware of? Some giant invisible scoreboard I’d never tallied?
She sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, but…do you have your laptop?”
“My laptop?”
“I’m sending you an email. Open the attachment.”
I stumbled over to my desk and woke my computer out of sleep mode. I pulled up the email and clicked on the attachment. I felt the blood drain from my face and the first stirrings of nausea began, the beer I downed earlier souring in my stomach. The room was suddenly too hot. “What the hell?”
“You didn’t think I gave all the photos to Ben, did you?” The snide way she answered made her voice sound like it wasn’t even hers at all.
Ben Oatam. A name I’d rather forget. He had pictures taken of Zoe when she wasn’t aware. Nude pictures. Maria had been his cohort. I looked away from the images on the screen, then thought about my roommate coming in and scrambled to close the pictures. “You— You’re supposed to be Zoe’s friend.”
“I am. I mean, I like Zoe and all.”
“But you have no problem blackmailing me with naked pictures of her.”
“Man, you should be thanking me. I’d think a couple of nudes of Zoe would make your whole night.” She laughed crudely.
“This isn’t funny, Maria.” Was this really happening? “She freaking saved your life,” I sputtered. Zoe called 911 the previous year when Maria swallowed a bunch of pills, supposedly remorseful for her part in taking nude pictures of Zoe without her knowledge or permission. She didn’t seem real remorseful now.
“Listen, Zack. Here’s something you rich kids don’t get. Sometimes you have to…be a little creative to get what you want. When you’re from the bad side of town, things don’t get handed to you. It’s something you wouldn’t understand.” At least she was right about that. I didn’t know what it was like growing up on the west side of Lincoln. “I don’t want to hurt Zoe, but, really, that’s up to you now, isn’t it?”
I closed my eyes. My heartbeat shuddering through my temples.
“I won’t make you take me out to dinner.” She sounded like she was thinking out loud. “There’s really no need for that. But I want a ginormous, GI-NORMOUS corsage. But classy,” she added. “My dress is red. You can pick me up at 6:45.” She stopped speaking. “You got that, Zack?” she growled. “6:45.” Again, she waited for some response from me.
What could I do?
I exhaled, passing a hand over my face. “Okay.” My voice was weak. “Okay. Fine.”
“Great. I’m looking forward to it,” she said as if this was a normal way to ask someone out. “See ya, then.” The connection clicked off.
I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the window, although it was dark outside and all I could see was my own pale reflection.
The pleasant buzz I possessed earlier had dissipated. I put my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, raking my fingers through my hair, which I tended to do when I was troubled. What should I do? I had a huge test on Monday. I thought I’d have all weekend to study. But there was no way I would let those pictures go public. I decided to call Nick and get his advice.
Nick agreed I didn’t have a choice. He offered to let me stay with him, so Zoe wouldn’t see me.
“I need to explain it to her. What if she sees me at the dance?”
“She won’t see you at the dance, dude,” Nick reassured me. “After you turned her down, she lost all interest in going. It’s better you do your little dark deed and not let her know. You’ll get the pictures back, and the whole thing will be over.”
So Saturday I showed up at The Baby Gap, where Maria worked, to pick her up. She wanted me to come inside so she could, “show me off” to her coworkers. She’d changed into her getup in the dressing room. Short, with fringes on the end, it had a deep cutout section in the front that showed off her…assets. I fought to not roll my eyes.
“I thought I told you my dress was red,” she snapped as soon as we were out of her workmates’ hearing range.
I purposefully chose a brown tie to clash with her. “This isn’t red?” I said innocently. “Darn. I’m a bit colorblind.”
She scowled. “You didn’t seem to have any problems dressing yourself in high school.”
I shrugged. “I guess it developed late.” She could make me be there, but she couldn’t stop me from being a smartass while in her company.
She quit walking, and I thought she might slug me. Instead, she ran her hand over my tie as if straightening it, smiling brightly. This close, the cloying fragrance of her perfume nearly gagged me. “That’s okay. We look like fall leaves. It’s perfect.” I began to wonder if she were bipolar or something. She ran her painted nails up my chest.
I grabbed her hands. “Our little deal does not include any…fringe benefits.”
She pushed away from me playfully. “You’re no fun.” She ran her tongue around her lip-sticked mouth. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she sang out, sashaying off in front of me. Then, she twisted to peer over her shoulder. “Well, come on.”
When we got to my Cobra, she oohed. “I forgot about your car.” She ran her hand along the hood. “Zane’s gonna tweak.”
The dance was every bit the nightmare I thought it would be. Most of the time I sat at a table and listened to Maria and her friends talk. That was hellish, but preferable to the other activity of the evening, being dragged onto the dance floor so she could grind against me.
Turned out Zane was this short, sleazy looking kid with a thin mustache that made it seem like he hadn’t washed his face. I wasn’t sure why Maria was so hot to make him jealous. At one point, we stepped out in the hall, searching for Zane so we could “accidentally” run into him and his date. I checked up and down the foyer and didn’t see them. When I turned back to Maria, she grabbed me behind the neck and smashed her lips against mine. I was so shocked I didn’t react at first. She maneuvered us so she was pressed against the gymnasium wall. Her hands were squeezing my ass. I pulled away, but she writhed against me, her nails raking through my hair.
“Ooh, Zack. Yes!”
I put my hands on her hips and disengaged myself from her. “Maria, this—”
Someone gasped, and I twisted around. It was like everything moved in slow motion. Zoe stood within the outer doors behind us in this floor-length, lavender dress that looked incredible on her. Her mouth hung open and our gazes connected. She shook her head and said something unintelligible as she took a step backward, bumping into the door. One hand flew to cover her lips, the other arm she crossed over her stomach. After a second, she took a step forward.
“It would be wrong for a college guy to come to a high school dance, huh?” She spat fire, but the tears in her eyes shouted out my betrayal even more. She spun and slammed the door release, having some trouble, but getting it open and dashing out.
“Zoe.” But before I could take off after her, Maria’s arms wrapped around me.
“Don’t make a mistake, Zack.”
I stared at her.
“She’ll get over this, but some things you never get over.” She smirked, her eyes shining wickedly. “You know, once something’s on the Internet it stays forever.”
Cold disbelief washed over me. I whirled, but Zoe was long gone. She wouldn’t let any gown slow her down. She would hike it up and book it on out of there.
I gradually turned back to face Maria. “Why would you do that to her?” I threw my hands up. “Why are you doing this to us?”
She messed with my collar and tie. “Oh, it’s nothing personal, Zackie. I needed a date—a really top-notch date—and you fit the bill. It’s a compliment, really.”
I shook my head. She was really whacked. Her blackmailing me into a date was a compliment?
She peered over my shoulder, and her face became hard. I whirled around, hoping it was Zoe
, but that weasel Zane held the door open for his giggling date. He looked over at us and blew Maria a kiss. Laughing, he swung around and slapped his date on the ass.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.” He put his arms around her and burrowed his face into her neck.
Maria seemed so devastated I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. I sighed. “Maria. The dance is over. I’m going to leave and try to explain my being here to Zoe.”
She grabbed my arm as I turned. “You’re not saying one word to her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You say something to her, the whole school knows I had to…force some guy to go out with me? That ain’t happening.”
“She wouldn’t say anything. Zoe’s not like…. You know what, it doesn’t matter. She’s—” My voice became choked. “She’ll never believe it, and even if she did, I’m still going back to Denver in the morning and she’s staying here.” I dropped my chin to my chest. This had to be the crappiest night ever. “Let’s get out of here so you can give me those pictures and I can go back to Nick’s and get some sleep.”
“Yeah.” She released me, holding her hand up to check her nail polish. “About that…. I think I’m keeping those.”
I stared at her, unable to form words at first. “Listen. I served my time at this joke of a dance, now you hold up your side of our agreement. Turn the pictures over and leave us alone.”
She studied me for a second. “Yeah…no.” She brushed past me, stomping toward the door.
I matched her pace. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m keeping those as assurance no one blabs about tonight. Or does anything else I don’t like, for that matter.”
Loud laughter outside my window brought me back to the present. I was as miserable now as I was that night seven years ago. The ache didn’t go away. Sure, it would recede, but it always surged back at the most unexpected moments. It kept me from making connections, male or female. I knew I needed to get over it. Move on. But I think part of me didn’t want to. Part of me believed I deserved to be miserable for what I’d done to her—what I’d done to us—even if it were for the right cause.
Pitchfork in the Road Page 3
