The Girl I Didn't Marry

by Annabelle Costa

  Jessie notices her father’s fists and the look on his face. Her face fills with panic. “Dad, please leave him alone.”

  She’s worried about me. She thinks her father will kick my ass.

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  I glance over the edge of the rocks. If I shoved Bill Schultz off these rocks, it probably wouldn’t kill him, but it would end the fight and take him out of commission long enough that he wouldn’t be able to hurt Jessie for a while. I don’t think I could really do it though. Shit, what if the fall killed him? I can’t be responsible for that.

  And on the flip side, if we started fighting and he pushed me off, I’d be in trouble. Big trouble.

  I never should’ve come here with Jessie.

  “Please,” Jessie is whimpering. Her eyes are wet. “Please, Dad, let’s go…”

  Mr. Schultz walks right up to me, but I don’t flinch. If he punches me, I’m gonna fight back. I’ll go down fighting if I have to.

  “I’m watching you, Moretti,” he hisses at me. “If you so much as breathe on my daughter, I’m going to know about it. Every parent in Bensonhurst is going to get the word that I’m to be informed if they see the two of you together. And if I hear anything about the two of you together…”

  He lets the threat dangle in front of me. He already told me what he’d do to Jessie if I didn’t stay away from her. I shouldn’t have tempted fate. I just wanted her so bad. It got the better of me.

  Mr. Schultz raises his hand. At first I think he’s gonna punch me, but instead he shoves me in the chest. It takes me off guard and I stumble a couple of feet backward. Jessie lets out a scream and I realize that I’m dangerously close to the edge of the rocks. I catch myself, glancing behind me to see how close I came to going over.

  One more push and it won’t be close anymore.

  He raises his hand again as my heart slams in my chest and Jessie sobs. I consider ramming into him as a last resort, but that seems like a dumb move. Instead, I brace myself, hoping that if I’m ready, I won’t fall. I grit my teeth, waiting for the blow.

  But instead, Mr. Schultz laughs and lowers his hand. He shakes his head at me. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m not going to kill you. Not unless you mess with my daughter again.”

  He steps away from me and my shoulders sag with relief. At least, until he grabs Jessie’s white arm with one of his meaty fists. “And you,” he hisses at her, “sneaking off with this kid like some no good little slut. What did you think you were doing?”

  Her cheeks turn pink. “Dad, we weren’t doing anything…”

  “Just wait,” he growls in a voice that makes me sick. “Just you wait until we get home.”

  With those words, he yanks Jessie away from me, toward the main beach. She looks back at me once as she stumbles after him. I want to kill him. I want to rip him apart the way I did with Evan. It should be legal for me to do it if the guy beats up on his daughter.

  But I do nothing.

  I just stare at them, disappearing into the distance. Soon she’ll be free from him. It’s getting harder and harder to wait, but I can do it.

  Hang on, Jessie. I’m going to save you from this.

  Chapter 20: Spring, 1997

  Jessie

  Chrissy is lying prone on my bed, her body propped up with her elbows, flipping through a magazine filled with prom dresses. She’s concentrating so hard that her tongue is sticking out at the side of her mouth. She stops when she gets to this expensive-looking dark green strapless dress and looks up at me.

  “This would be perfect for you, Jess,” she says.

  I shake my head no, imagining my bulky figure stuffed into that elegant dress. “For me? What about for you?”

  “Strapless? No.” She makes a face. “My tits won’t hold it up. I’ll end up naked at prom.”

  To be fair, that will almost certainly happen anyway. But I wouldn’t say that to her.

  “I don’t think I’m going to senior prom,” is all I end up saying.

  Chrissy pushes the magazine away from herself and flops herself into a sitting position. She flashes me an accusing look. “Seriously? How could you not go to prom?”

  “Why are you so into prom anyway?” I retort. I don’t think Chrissy has been to one school dance the whole four years. “I thought you hate that dumb stuff.”

  She shrugs. “It’s the last big event of high school. You gotta go.”

  I shake my head. “Well, I pass.”

  “God, why don’t you just become a nun while you’re at it?” she snorts as she picks up a bottle of purple nail polish off my dresser. She unscrews the cap without asking and starts painting her nails. Chrissy and I have been friends long enough that she doesn’t have to ask permission to use my nail polish, although sometimes I wish she would.

  “What does that mean?” I say.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She shakes her head at me. “You’ve been on, what? Five dates through all of high school?”

  “More than that,” I mumble. But not a lot more.

  “I get that you think that you and Nick are meant to be together, happily ever after, all that crap,” she says, “but Christ, why don’t you have a little fun in the meantime? He sure does.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. In a way, she has a point. I have probably spent an unhealthy amount of time pining for Nick over the last four years. Maybe I would have been better off if when my father told me to stay away from him, I’d just moved on. But on the other hand, it wasn’t like it was a conscious choice. Whenever another guy showed interest in me, in my head, they just couldn’t compare to Nick.

  Also, it didn’t help that Nick beat the living daylights out of Evan Thompson last year. Evan’s nose is still crooked thanks to that night. Guys were afraid to ask me out after that.

  “Nobody asked me to prom anyway,” I say.

  Chrissy grins at me. “Me either. So let’s go together.”

  “Everyone will think we’re lesbians.”

  “We’re not?” She blinks at me. “Oh my God, how could you lead me on that way, Jess?”

  I smack her in the arm, nearly spilling the bottle of purple nail polish over my bedspread. Actually, if I were interested in girls, Chrissy wouldn’t be a bad choice. She’s one of the prettiest girls in school and she’s also really fun—and let’s face it, I’d totally get some action out of her.

  “Well, think about it,” Chrissy says. “I guarantee it’s going to be a really fun night.”

  I feel like there’s only one guy out there who would make prom really fun. And my father won’t allow it to happen.

  Nick

  “Nick Moretti.”

  Chrissy Cagliari is sitting on my car when I get to it, her ass resting on the trunk, her legs crossed to show off the maximum amount of leg. That girl gets hotter every single year. Even though it’s her best friend I’m interested in, I don’t mind looking at her, if you get my meaning. I’m not even gonna get pissed off that she’s sitting on my car.

  “Hi, Chrissy,” I say.

  She winks at me. “How ‘bout a ride home?”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “A ride home?”

  She raises her hands. “Just a ride, Nick. I got a proposition for you.”

  She’s piqued my interest. I pop the locks of the 1986 Toyota Corolla that I bought with the money I made working for my father last summer. Chrissy slides in, and I take off before she even has a chance to buckle up. Girls like Chrissy like it when you drive fast.

  “You going to prom, Nick?” she asks me.

  “Hadn’t really thought about it,” I say.

  I still go out with girls from time to time, but nothing serious. Never more than two or three dates with anybody. I did end up losing my virginity to Claire Martini in the fall, mostly because I got sick of all my buddies ragging on me that I hadn’t gotten laid yet. Then I fucked Angie Peters a few months ago. None of it was a big deal—Claire and Angie have both been fucking their way through the senior class. It was a release—
nothing more.

  All I can think of is that in only a few months, Jessie and I will both be at college in Manhattan. She’s at NYU on scholarship, and I picked Columbia over Harvard so that I could be with her. And there won’t be a goddamn thing that Bill Schultz can do about it.

  “I was just thinking,” Chrissy says, batting her eyelashes at me, “how about you and me go together?”

  I take my eyes off the road for a second to stare at her. “You and me?”

  Chrissy slides her long fingernails up my shoulder. “What? You ain’t interested in me?” Then she laughs at the expression on my face. “Relax, Nicky. I’m just offering to be your beard.”

  “My beard?”

  “Exactly,” she says. “Jess goes with some other guy, and I go with you. We double-date, and then you and Jess get to spend prom together.”

  “What about the other guy?”

  Chrissy shrugs. “I think I can take care of the other guy. Doncha think so?”

  I think so. There’s no guy in the senior class who wouldn’t love to spend prom night with Chrissy.

  The truth is, her offer sounds great. I’d give anything to get to go to prom with Jessie, and this is the only way it can happen. But one thing bothers me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask her. “You could go to prom with any guy you want.”

  “True.” A smile plays on Chrissy’s lips. “But I feel like being nice. Jess deserves it.”

  I nod.

  “And also,” she says, “I think it will someday be useful to be owed a favor from Nick Moretti.”

  I laugh. “You think so?”

  She nods soberly. “I know so.”

  Chapter 21

  Nick

  I pull up my car to Chrissy’s house wearing a black tuxedo and feeling like a dumbass. I never wore a tuxedo before and it’s uncomfortable as hell. I’m wearing a regular black tie, at least, instead of a bowtie. I’d really feel like a tool in a bowtie.

  I bought Chrissy a corsage, because she’s my date and I’m keeping up appearances. Also, she deserves it. Even if Chrissy and I aren’t really together, I want her to have a really good night tonight. Chrissy’s a good sport for doing this. She told me she was wearing red so I got her a red flower to wear around her wrist.

  Chrissy’s mother opens the door and her face lights in a smile when she sees me. Mrs. Cagliari is in her forties but still pretty, like Chrissy will probably be in twenty-five years. “Nico!” she cries, calling me by the nickname only my family calls me because she’s friends with Ma and has known me since I was a baby. “Look at you, all tall and grown up! And so handsome!”

  I don’t roll my eyes, but it’s hard. At least she doesn’t pinch my cheek.

  Mrs. Cagliari pulls me into the house and makes a big fuss over me. She makes me show her the corsage and tells me how perfect it is for Chrissy’s dress. Then Mr. Cagliari comes out to give me a stern lecture about not driving drunk, which I’m not going to do because after I spent all my savings on the Corolla and fixing it up, the last thing I want is to get into a wreck.

  “I understand, sir,” I tell him.

  Mr. Cagliari’s stern expression lifts and he grins as he claps me on the shoulder, “I trust you. I know you’re gonna take good care of my daughter, Nick.”

  I been in the house for at least ten minutes when Chrissy finally comes out. She’s wearing a red dress the same color as the corsage, and it clings to every curve of her body, plus it’s open in the front, held together with white laces. As much as my mind is on Jessie right now, Chrissy in that dress is getting me really worked up. I can’t help it—I’m only human.

  “Hi, Nick,” she says sweetly.

  “I got you a corsage,” I mutter, feeling suddenly awkward.

  Chrissy holds out her slender, tanned wrist and I slide the corsage onto it. I can’t help but think how much easier it would’ve been to fall in love with Chrissy Cagliari. She’s hot as hell and her parents love me—no troubles there. But it just didn’t happen that way.

  “I gotta get a picture!” Mrs. Cagliari cries out. The dig out their camera and Chrissy and I pose together. I throw my arm around her narrow shoulders and we smile till our cheeks hurt. It’s annoying, but not so bad.

  We been in the house a good twenty minutes before we make it back out to my car. Chrissy has too much makeup on as usual, but she looks really sexy. I’m opening the passenger door for her to be a gentleman since it’s prom night and all when Chrissy leans in and presses her lips against mine.

  “What?” I say.

  Chrissy blinks at me. “I’m not allowed to kiss my prom date?”

  “I thought we were going as friends.”

  She brushes some lint off my lapel. “You look handsome is all, Nick.”

  I don’t know what to make of that, so I let it go. Chrissy isn’t the one I been waiting a month to spend the night with. No, not a month. More like four years.

  The prom is being held in our school gymnasium. When we walk inside, the lighting is lower than I ever seen in the school gym, and there are round tables set up all over the place. The theme of the party is winter wonderland or some shit like that, so there’s fake snow and snowflakes all over the place. There’s music blasting, and the bass is making the floor vibrate with the voices of Destiny’s Child.

  I scan the room, looking for Jessie. It takes me about fifteen seconds to spot her on the dance floor. Her long golden hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing a green dress that’s tight enough on top that her tits are nearly spilling out of it. Her shoulders are really white and look so soft, even from across the room. Her father never would’ve let her out of the house looking like that if she were going out with me, but apparently he let her go with Brandon Levy.

  Chrissy sees the look on my face and laughs. “Easy, tiger,” she says. “You can’t just go over there and shove Brandon out of the way.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  She gives me a thoughtful look. “Christ, you’re so stuck on her. I wish somebody liked me the way that you like Jess.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “Look,” she says, “they’ve probably been dancing a bit. Let’s go over and I’ll say I’m cutting in. Brandon won’t mind.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  We gotta do this. Because at this point, I probably am going to go over and shove Brandon out of the way if I have to wait any longer.

  Jessie

  I’m going to kill Chrissy.

  I didn’t want to go to this stupid prom in the first place. After Brandon asked me, she talked me into saying yes, telling me how much fun it would be. I barely know Brandon—he’s in my physics class and he never knows the answers when the teacher calls on him—I’m not even sure why he asked me. I told him I’d think about it, hoping he’d forget he asked me the same way he forgot that force equals mass times acceleration, but then Chrissy told me I needed to go. She said she knew of a kickass after party and that it would be a night I’d remember forever. When she got done with her spiel, I found myself telling Brandon I’d be happy to accompany him to the prom.

  Right now, I’ve been at this party for half an hour with Brandon… or, as I recently nicknamed him, Brandon the Octopus. The boy earned his nickname because he will not stop pawing at me while we’re dancing. It’s not even a slow song! He’s feeling me up during “Ice Ice, Baby”! And every time I brush one of his hands away, it’s like two more tentacles sprout up to touch me somewhere else.

  If Brandon thinks he’s getting some tonight, he’s got another thing coming, I swear to God.

  And then Chrissy shows up. She’s been real vague about who her date for tonight was going to be, so I almost lose it when she shows up with Nick Moretti.

  How the hell did that happen?

  Fine, I don’t expect that Nick has been saving himself for me. He’s been out with other girls and I’ve been out with other guys. It’s hard to hear other girls talk about
what a great kisser he is, and it was really hard to hear Claire Martini talk about how he gave her her first orgasm over the summer, but fine. I’m used to it. I may act like a nun, but I don’t expect him to be a monk.

  But Chrissy? My best friend? At freaking prom?!

  How could he? How could they?

  The worst thing is how ridiculously handsome Nick looks tonight. I’ve never seen him in a tuxedo before, and the dark suit perfect complements his dark hair and eyes. The urge to run to him is almost overwhelming, if only I could get away from Brandon’s octopus tentacles.

  Brandon has got his hand almost on my butt when Chrissy suddenly inserts herself between the two of us. She blinks her heavily mascaraed ‘lashes at me. “May I cut in?”

  Brandon looks surprised, although not entirely displeased. I’m sure he knows Chrissy’s reputation. Who doesn’t?

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “I’m trying to help you, Jess,” she hisses at me.

  And then suddenly I’m looking up at Nick. And I’m wishing I were wearing a cuter prom dress. This one was Chrissy’s idea—she talked me into it in the store, saying how perfect it was, the same way she talked me into coming here tonight.

  “Hey, Jessie.” Nick is gazing at me with his penetrating dark eyes. It’s making my knees weak. I know that’s an expression, but I really do feel like my knees are wobbly right now.

  “Hey,” I say brilliantly.

  “Wanna dance with me?” he asks.

  I almost say yes, but then I remember the hurt I felt when I saw him walk into the gym with my best friend. How could he do that to me?

  “I think I’m going to go sit down, actually,” I say stiffly.

  I push past my fellow classmates and make my way toward one of the tables. I take a seat in one of the plastic chairs, which is actually a bit of a relief. My high heels are killing me, and it was exhausting to fight off Brandon for thirty minutes straight.