Right. Of course she is. She thrusts the garment bag toward me, and I take it. “Come in,” I try again, hopefully.
“No. I have…” She flings her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s family night.”
“Oh.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice. “What’s the movie?”
She closes her eyes and touches her temples, then she opens them and looks directly at me. “Alex.”
The dress is like a dead weight in my arms. My feet are suddenly concrete blocks. I don’t like the tone of her voice. This is bad.
“Bailey.” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I didn’t want you to…”
“Become an internet sensation?”
I sigh and step forward, wishing I could make the internet go away forever. “No. I did not want that.”
“Right.” Her hands go to her hips. She won’t avert her eyes, and it’s freaking me out. “You wanted to warn me that Caleb asked someone else.”
Now I have to look away. “Yeah.” The word sounds totally unconvincing coming out of my mouth.
“Did you find out who he’s going with?”
There goes my heart again, accelerating to dangerous speeds. I feel heat in my face and think I might be turning red. I can’t think of a way to explain what I did without lying more.
“Bailey…”
“Stop, Alex,” she says. Her voice breaks, and I look up at her. Her beautiful eyes are shining. “I don’t know why you did it, but I know you lied.”
“No,” I say. “That’s not what I was—”
“No,” she interrupts. “Listen, I’ve been thinking, maybe we should go back to hanging out with our own people.”
“What people?” I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. “What does that even mean?”
She sputters out a laugh. “You know what it means. Friends you party with. Friends you sit with at lunch. Friends you can admit to having. Not ones you keep secret.”
“Bailey.” I am desperate to find words that will convince her to stop talking this way. “I wasn’t keeping you a secret.”
“Oh no?” She laughs.
How can I make her see? I need words. I need to explain that I didn’t want her mixed up with my friends—that I wanted her to myself, that I was being selfish.
That doesn’t sound like a good thing to say at all.
Now she’s the one shaking her head. “I have to go.”
She takes a step back, and I surge forward. “No,” I blurt. “Bails. Don’t do this. It was a mistake, this whole promposal. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Why does it have to be such a big deal?”
Her eyes blink slowly. “Right.” There’s a tremor in her voice that makes me want to brace myself. “I forgot. It’s no big deal?” She backs away, chuckling, but not because she thinks it’s funny—that much is clear.
“That’s the problem,” she says. “Nothing’s a big deal to you, Alex. You get everything you want. Girls, friends, money. You complain all the time about your parents, who are literally out saving people’s lives. You have zero goals, zero real problems.” She scowls and crosses her arms.
Her words hit like punches in my gut.
She takes another step back, another step away from me. “And you say ‘dude’ way too much.”
I want to stop her. I want to defend us, our friendship or whatever it is, because it was—is—real, but she won’t stop, and I don’t know where to start.
“So, fine,” she says. “It’s no big deal to you, Alex. That’s you, but it’s not me. Lots of things are a big deal to me—school is a big deal. My family is a big deal. The time we spent hanging out was a big deal. My movies, winning this contest, all a big deal. That kiss…”
She looks at the ground now, away from me.
The kiss?
My heart jumps to my throat. Yes. She’s thinking about it, too. Shaking, I take a step toward her. “Bailey? That kiss…?”
“No.” She holds up both hands. “I know. It was a huge mistake.” She takes a big step back, then a few more. “Good-bye, Alex.”
Before I can say a word, she turns around and runs to her car, gets in, and speeds down the driveway as fast as she can get that piece of shit to go.
I’m left standing in the doorway, the dress in my arms, cursing myself and my damn brain that doesn’t know what to do, or what to say, or how to say it.
Maybe I should be mad. That speech was harsh. But really, was she wrong?
No, she’s not. She’s right, about all of it. I should have known from the beginning that we were doomed. I’m the Love Guru. I see things where other people don’t. I should have seen this coming.
I close the door behind me and drop the garment bag in the middle of the foyer rug. Maybe that’s why I kept our friendship hidden for so long. She’s amazing, focused, funny, cool. It was only a matter of time before she saw the real me and ran the hell away.
I kick the dress and sit on the steps with my head in my hands. The house is too quiet, though I can almost hear the all-seeing chandelier above, laughing and mocking me.
Koviak, you’re a massive douchebag. She can do so much better than you.
I can’t disagree with that.
Chapter Thirty
Bailey
I probably could have been nicer, but I have no regrets. I don’t even regret the time we spent together. Everything that happens to you in life makes you who you are, makes you smarter and stronger. Next time I meet someone like Alex, I’ll remember how he broke my heart and walk away. Because he did break my heart. I can admit that now.
Also, I will forever, for the rest of my life, stay far, far away from cows. I might even become a vegetarian.
The first thing I do when I get to A/V on Monday is change my short film topic on the whiteboard from “Prom” to “College Entrance Exams.”
I stare at the words—this could be a disaster unless I make it relatable and funny, which I will. I have a vision, sort of. What I don’t have is a lot of time. I’ll need to do a bunch of interviews, follow kids around to the test that’s coming up, go to some prep courses, try to come up with a catchy title.
ACT Agony?
SAT is the End of Me?
I’ll think of something. It’ll be interesting in the end, because the tests are a high school tradition that everyone dreads but almost everyone has to endure. That’s pure cinematic gold right there. That’s what I tell myself.
This makes me think of what I said to Alex, about him being lazy and not having any real plan for his life except for lacrosse and whining about his parents. I meant it at the time, but maybe it wasn’t totally fair. I’ve loved movies all my life and knew I wanted to make them from the time I found out it was a job. Maybe that makes me lucky.
“Hey,” Ashley says from the computer to my right. I don’t really want to be disturbed right now, and I do not want to discuss the fact that I am all over the internet, but I can’t really ignore her without seeming rude.
“Hey.” I glance in her direction. She looks like she wants to chat. “What’s up?” I say in as friendly a tone as I can manage.
“You aren’t going to do prom for the project anymore?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Is she kidding? “You were there.”
“I know, but I thought for sure you’d still do it. I got some great film. The whole thing made for some awesome visuals—man versus beast, love being thwarted. It could make a great story. It could win.”
I swivel back. “I don’t care.” I stare at the twenty seconds of viable shots I have on my new topic, which let’s face it, has zero chance of winning anything.
“Don’t you even want the file?” she asks.
“No,” I say. “Thanks. I really don’t want to relive it. Ever.”
“Well.” She taps her phone screen. “I just sent it to you in case you change your mind.” She leans toward me. “Do not do a film about the SAT. Please.”
I r
ub my neck and stare at the screen. I mutter something that sounds like “thanks” even though I do not want to see that footage. What I do want to do, though, is win this contest.
That afternoon, I’m at work in the express lane at Publix when I see someone familiar walk through the entrance. It’s Alex’s friend Eli. His best friend, really. I wonder if he even knows I exist, but whatever he does or doesn’t know, I hope he doesn’t end up in my line.
Ten minutes later, here he comes, of course. There’s a kid with him, maybe a little brother. Eli puts down a bag of apples, fresh cranberries, and a box of Saltines.
When we make eye contact, there’s a spark of recognition. “Oh, hey,” he says, trying to place me. “You’re…”
I don’t finish the sentence for him.
“Oh,” he says. The kid with him is fidgety, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
“Bailey,” I say while bagging his groceries.
“Cow girl,” says the bouncing boy.
I smash the total button with my finger.
“Bailey.” Eli shifts his crutches around and hands me a twenty from his wallet. “Ari, this is Bailey.” He frowns as I glance between the brothers. “Sorry,” Eli mouths.
His brother is different. Autistic, maybe. I hand him his change. “No worries,” I say, hoping he’ll just move along.
Instead, he speaks to me, which is the opposite of moving along. “You know Kov, huh?”
“Kov is a douchebag,” the little brother says.
“Yes,” I say. “He is.” I look at Eli, who is staring at me funny.
“I’m Eli,” he says, then pauses like he wants to say something else.
The kid is bouncing faster now. Eli takes the Saltines out of the bag and lets him hold them. “He likes crackers.”
“Oh.” I wonder if they’re ever going to leave.
“Are you okay?” he asks. He looks so worried that I almost feel like I need to comfort him.
“Yes. Yeah. Definitely,” I say. He offers me a smile. His eyes are friendly, which oddly makes me feel better, but he stares for a beat too long, and I know he feels sorry for me. I lean toward him. “You know—avoiding steakhouses for a while.”
He chuckles and leans in. “Kov’s clueless, you know, but you got to him.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“Nice to meet you,” he says. “Come on, Ari.”
“Good-bye Bailey,” his brother says, holding his box of crackers and not meeting my gaze.
“Okay. Bye,” I say, relieved he didn’t call me cowgirl again.
On the way home from Publix, I stop in at the coffee shop. I pull open the door, warily checking out the few customers loitering inside. I heard more than one “mooo” on my shift today, and I don’t think I can take one more.
It looks safe in here. No one I recognize, and most of them seem parent-aged, so I’m hoping there’s no bovine sound effects in my future.
“Oh God,” Jax says when he sees me.
“What?”
“We close in ten minutes. Just don’t tell me that you want a Nitro because I have cleaned that business out, and I am not about to dirty it up again.”
I lean against the front counter. “Relax. Can you make me a mocha?”
He purses his lips and rolls his eyes. “I suppose so.”
Austin walks in from the back. He’s a sophomore who I’ve only worked with a few times, and he totally perks up when he sees me. “Hey.” He chuckles. “You’re famous.”
“Ring up a mocha, employee discount,” Jax snaps at him.
I shove a five in Austin’s hand, and then Jax orders him to go mop the front of the store and throw the lock. When he’s gone, Jax makes my coffee without a word and hands it to me. When I reach out to take it, he doesn’t let go.
“You doing okay?”
I wrestle the coffee away from him. I’m officially sick of people asking me that question. “Yes, I’m fine. I wanted to tell you—you can put me back on the schedule for the 5th.”
“Prom night?”
I take a sip of my drink. “Yes.”
He leans against the counter. “Are you sure?”
I roll my eyes and wonder what’s wrong with him. “I thought you’d be happy, Jax. Yes, I’m sure. I’m not going.”
“What if that cowboy asks you?”
I lift an eyebrow and sigh. “I am not, under any circumstances, going to prom.”
“What if the other boy asks you?” he asks.
“What other boy?”
“The other boy.”
I nearly spit out my sip of coffee. What, is he stupid? “Why would I go with him?”
Jax shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve watched that video enough times. I think he might…” He pauses. “Don’t get mad, because with my limited interaction with him, I can see he’s a jackass. But I think he likes you.”
I don’t laugh. I don’t wince. I have zero reaction except to say, “You’re wrong.”
“Have you watched it?”
“No, and I’m not going to. And you’re wrong. The only reason you think that is because he’s a very good actor.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I do, Jax. So thanks, but just put me on the schedule. There’s no way in hell I’m going to prom.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Alex
I go to school the next day, and the next, and think of her. I spend lunch in my Jeep, not wanting to hang out with “my people” or whatever she called them. I sit and wonder if there is anything I can say to fix this. I am doubtful. She made it clear that we’re through. I’ve lost her, and it’s becoming clear to me that I am also lost without her.
I pace around the house at night, alone. Miriam is gone before I get home, and Mom and Dad claim they’ll be home by Sunday now. They extended their trip again on account of there’s some water crisis in some remote African village.
I try to be okay with that, given what Bailey said about me being such a selfish jerk. It’s not easy.
By Wednesday’s game, I’m tired and pissed off in general. I’ve played shitty in practice. I can’t concentrate at all.
Then we lose.
We stumble off the field in the silence of the defeated. It’s not the end, but this game would have clinched divisionals if we hadn’t played like a bunch of peewee leaguers. No communication, lots of penalties, weak defense, even worse offense. The Gainesville team we played wasn’t even that good, and they crushed us.
I was the worst of them all. It’s like I was sleepwalking out there, and my teammates know it. Back in the locker room, our team song doesn’t play. There’s only the shuffling sounds of duffel bags. No one says a word.
Coach lets us have it. It’s okay. We deserve it. Me especially. We take it, listening in total silence, and then Coach leaves, and it’s left to me and Eli, as captains, to follow up. Eli does some typical post-game loss bullshit, and then it’s up to me to channel their anger and use it to pump them back up for next week’s game. Somehow, I manage to fake it, because when I’m finished they shout and jump and smack shoulders as I walk through them. I think the pep talk worked on everyone but me. I stand in front of my open locker, totally defeated.
“Hey, Kov?”
It’s Tex, last person I want to see right now, standing next to me, still dressed, covered with dirt.
“Yeah?” I breathe out the word, trying to maintain my cool, because I really want to deck him, and that’s some seriously messed-up shit. Caleb Gray has done nothing to me. The real Alex Koviak knows that, wherever he is. The irrational me keeps my head down, packing up, not making eye contact.
“I want to ask you something,” he says.
“So ask.”
“Can you stop for a second?”
I stop and cross my arms so they don’t start flinging themselves around, hitting people. He didn’t do anything to you, Kov. “Yeah? What?”
“That whole thing with Bailey on the cow, was
she trying to ask me to prom?”
“What?” My mind scrambles trying to figure out a way to spin this.
“That video that’s going around? I heard a rumor that had to do with me. And you were in on it, obviously.”
He waits for me to respond, but I don’t know what to say.
“Was she going to ask me to prom?”
My eyes move to my right. Then my left. Then at the ground. “Maybe?”
“Why didn’t she?”
I scratch behind my ear. “You saw the video.”
He shifts back and forth on his feet. I know because I’m staring at the floor. “You told her I was going with someone else?”
I say nothing.
“Why would you do that?” he asks.
I cross my arms and lift my eyes. There’s no digging my way out of this. “No idea.”
He crosses his arms, too. “So you’re okay with me asking her?”
My jaw drops. “Sure. Go for it.” I turn away, stuffing all my shit in my bag as fast as humanly possible.
“Good.” The word is clear and measured, and I’ve never wanted to hit someone so bad in my life.
“Yeah,” I say. “Good.” I shoulder my bag and walk away, no shower, no changing into street clothes. I want to get the hell out of here.
When I get back to the house, giant and empty and full of ghosts, it’s too much. Not only have I lost Bailey in an attempt to keep her for myself, she’s going to wind up going the prom with Tex anyway.
I need a drink. I find the bottle of Bourbon my parents keep stashed away and pour myself a glass. It tastes like lighter fluid and sets fire to my throat going down.
I don’t like it, not at all, but it’s just what I need right now. Liquid punishment. I down that glass and pour another, then I take out my phone and go straight to Snapchat.
Party at my house. Now.
My eyes see the words, see the world of trouble they might cause, but I don’t care. It’s a random Wednesday, and I won’t get a crowd, but I need a distraction. I need to get my mind off of her.
I hit send, and the snap goes wide.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bailey
I’m in bed, working on the project on my laptop. Today I filmed two interviews, one with a junior about to take the SAT and another with a senior taking the ACT for the third time. It astounds me how much importance is put on these tests and how much pressure we put on ourselves to get a high score. Like four hours on a random Saturday is supposed to be a good judge of how well you’ll do in college?
Love and Other Secrets Page 17
