Ten Times Fast

by Mallory Lopez

“Bean. It’s Brett. She broke up with him and it serves him right,” she stresses intensely.

  “Maybe. But he doesn’t deserve rumors or bad stuff to be said about him all over school. Nobody does,” I say sincerely. Her green eyes practically seer right through me. She’s not having it. She wants to square off.

  “Seriously, Ramona? You’re going to stick up for him? He cursed you out in front of Ryan,” she reminds me, crossing her arms.

  “I am still disappointed in him. He might have deserved to be dumped but not in such a cruel, public way like that.”

  I hope to God Daphne doesn’t know. What hurts is that Brett slept with Daphne. I never assumed that Brett was a virgin, of course. I know he lost it when we were fifteen to Cindy McAllister.

  Or was it Janis Lynn?

  Doesn’t matter, I couldn’t stand either of them.

  Knowing that he specifically slept with Daphne... it devastates me. I bury my feelings.

  No, Ramona! It doesn’t matter!

  “But whatever, let’s not waste our lunch talking about Brett. He’s not even worth talking about.” I snap into a baby carrot. Veronica smiles and nods as if she agrees with me.

  Naturally, she spends the rest of lunch obsessing about all the reasons why we should hate Brett. I take reassurance that since Veronica never mentioned Brett or Daphne cheating, nobody else knows.

  Hopefully.

  Brett Dixon

  Friday 10/18

  I really thought that Daphne would have calmed down overnight, at least a little. I was wrong.

  Before my first class even started, I heard people talking up and down the hallway about how Daphne broke up with me. That didn’t bother me. I was a dick jerk to her and if she wants to tell people she dumped me to make herself feel better, I don’t really care. I’ll take that as penance.

  Then during my first class, Todd Bartlett told me that Daphne was telling everyone that she got rid of me because I was bad at fu having sex. I was kind of pissed at first because we never even had sex but then I shrugged it off.

  I’m so happy she’s out of my life that I couldn’t give a damn about the rumors. They’ll die down soon enough. I don’t even know what I was thinking dating her. She’s an awful person and always has been. I was thinking with my dic unclearly.

  And honestly, I only care what Ramona thinks. She was so close to laughing with me in Math. I saw it in her eyes. It was almost like things were back to normal. And then she pushed me away. Literally. It actually kinda hurt.

  In 7th grade Ramona and I ganged up to prank Jimmy and Veronica for April Fool’s Day. It was a Saturday morning and we both slept over at the Wilder’s. They would let us do that as long as the girls stuck to their corner of the house and the boys stuck to the other corner. Of course, we always ended up all passing out in the basement from playing video games all night.

  Anyways, we woke up early and crept upstairs. We took the saran wrap from the pantry and the squirt bottle of mayo from the fridge. Ramona emptied the toothpaste tube and squirted in the mayo. I covered the toilet in plastic wrap hoping that Jimmy would be the first to use it in the morning.

  After we succeeded we went back downstairs and fell asleep.

  We woke up to yelling and cursing. Mrs. Wilder was in a hurry that morning and needed to use the kids’ bathroom because Mr. Wilder was in theirs. We all ran upstairs to see what had happened.

  Mrs. Wilder had a mouth full of mayonnaise that she was trying to rinse out. I thought we were in so much trouble but then Jimmy and Veronica started cracking up laughing and then Ramona and I joined in. We were practically in tears and finally Mrs. Wilder began shaking her head and laughing with us.

  We forgot about the toilet seat until Jimmy went to use it. He came running out of the bathroom screaming and chased Ramona and I out of the house. Ramona and I fell on the grass of the Wilder’s front yard and laughed until our muscles burned. I don’t know if I’ve laughed that hard since.

  Jimmy forgave us the next day and even commended our "ability to be so surreptitious*.”

  She was more than my friend. She was my comrade. My partner in crime. I’m going to make it all up to her. I don’t know how yet, but I know that I will.

  P.S. Please note the correctly spelled SAT word.*

  That’s Jimmy for you...using SAT words since the 7th grade.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE SECOND I FINISH MY homework, I text Ryan.

  Me: Hey, you up?

  Ryan: Yeah, come over.

  In less then twenty minutes we are inside my car making out in the back seat. It’s too cold outside so we agreed to turn the heater on. Now it’s too hot.

  And the clothes are coming off a lot quicker than I expected.

  I lift my arms and he pulls my sweatshirt off, revealing my new nightgown. We kiss hurriedly while I yank off his sweatshirt and t-shirt.

  I feel so lost in kissing him that I haven’t thought about anyone or anything other than our bodies touching. I love that I can escape my hovering thoughts about Brett.

  I climb on top of his lap, straddling him. He stops to admire me in my forest green nightgown and notices that I’m not wearing a bra. He rubs his hands up and down my sides.

  “Ramona...” he says with a hoarse voice. I wrap my arms around his neck and pick up where we left off.

  He brushes the straps of my nightgown down and I get lost.

  Lost.

  Lost.

  CHAPTER 19

  “WHO TEACHES THAT CLASS again?” Jimmy asks as we all sit down at lunch. I had just been complaining about the massive amount of reading I had to do last night for class.

  “Mr. Schreiber,” I answer, tearing off a piece of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  “Why’s he so angry all the time?” Veronica pipes in, holding her fork with spaghetti noodles dangling off.

  “Oh, he’s not angry. He’s just German,” I respond plainly, tossing some bread in my mouth. Veronica and Jimmy both snicker.

  “All right, guys, the Halloween dance is coming up. What if we do a group costume this year?” Jimmy says. I take a glance at the date on my phone and realize that he’s bringing Halloween up surprisingly late. He normally has his costume planned out at least a month in advance.

  “What about the Spice Girls?” Veronica teases.

  “Too gay, even for me,” Jimmy says, shoving a chip in his mouth.

  “And dated,” I add, recalling my costume from last year. I went as Elliot from E.T. and a whole five people understood my costume. “What if we’re rock, paper and scissors?”

  Silence abounds while everyone contemplates.

  The only other time we did a group costume was Sophomore year when we went as Charlie Brown, Sally and Lucy. We won Best Group Costume that year. I think we’ll have a pretty decent chance at winning again this year if we all agree.

  “That’s genius. I’ll be paper,” Jimmy declares.

  “I’ll be the scissors since I’m the tallest,” Veronica touts.

  “You are not the tallest,” Jimmy argues.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Veronica is taller…but only by half an inch.

  “Whatever, I’m older and smarter so who cares?”

  “Older by like three minutes,” Veronica snaps.

  “Older is older,” Jimmy states diplomatically.

  Veronica rolls her eyes and scoffs.

  “Then I’ll be the rock,” I say, hoping to put an end to their ridiculous bickering. I’ve gotten good at mediating over the years.

  “Perfect! Let’s make this Halloween the best one yet!” Jimmy exclaims melodramatically, just like he does every year.

  As far as school dances go, we don’t usually participate. Sometimes student council will ask for volunteers. If they do then we help set up, which was the case for Homecoming this year. After Freshman year, we had all grown out of it. We usually just stuff our faces with food the night of the dances and play video games instead. It’s our favorite past time.
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br />   Halloween, on the other hand, is a different story. Given Jimmy’s affinity for theatrical shenanigans, Veronica and I never really had a choice but to go. Though, it’s become tradition now.

  Brett Dixon

  Thursday 10/24

  I don’t know why I expected everything to change overnight. I broke up with Daphne and I thought magically Ramona would start talking to me again.

  But she didn’t. I don’t know if I should keep trying to talk to her or if I should wait and let her come to me in her own time. It’s been six days and she hasn’t said a word to me. I know she steals glances, I can feel it. There’s no way she can hate me. I refuse to believe that.

  Whenever she’s around me, she consumes me. I’m so hung up. I’m not sure how much longer I can give her space. Every time I see her it becomes more and more clear: she belongs with me. It makes. So. Much. Sense. I just wish she could see it.

  I remember the first time I ever met her. I had just moved to Oregon from Boston and my first day at school, Jimmy was assigned to be my buddy and show me around. Veronica was intimidating at first but Ramona... she was so sweet. Her hair was lighter and shorter –– it only hit her chin and her freckles were a little more pronounced.

  The three of us played together at morning recess. But it was the day Jimmy and Veronica’s grandma died. They got pulled out a little after recess. I went to get lunch and I sat down alone at a table because I didn’t know who to sit with since Jimmy went home.

  As soon as I bit into my apple, Ramona came and sat down across from me like she had been doing it for years, like we had been friends since kindergarten, like it was obvious that she would sit with me.

  Before I even said anything she started talking about how she was happy that I was eating an apple and not an orange because she hates orange juice but loves apple juice.

  I went home that day and told my mom that I didn’t want orange juice anymore. I told her I only wanted apple juice in my lunches from now on. My mom thought it was weird but to me, it made perfect sense at the time.

  CHAPTER 20

  IN MY LAZY STUPOR last night, I forgot to ask Ryan if he was going to the Halloween Party. I know that I have to go with Jimmy and Veronica because of our costumes, but I thought maybe he would want to meet up there or go someplace after. We’ve been hooking up every other night in my car. It’s gotten pretty heated, but I always stop when things start to get carried away.

  Kissing Ryan is fun but ever since Brett broke up with Daphne, I have this powerful longing feeling when I’m around him. We still aren’t talking and I appreciate him giving me space, but I can’t shake this feeling.

  I miss him.

  “Hey, I forgot to ask you if you’re going to the Halloween Dance tomorrow.” I fall into step with Ryan after class.

  He looks around, leans in close and grabs my arm. “Let’s talk about it tonight. My place at 10,” he whispers in my ear. He gives me arm a few squeezes then keeps walking on without me.

  I turn to walk to class and I see Brett staring at me from across the hall. My smile fades. I study his face and realize the face he is wearing is an expression distinctly of heart-stopping pain. I lift my thumb to my mouth to bite my cuticle. I want to ask him why he’s in pain. I want to ask him about Daphne and what happened. I want to ask if he told anybody that we kissed. I want to tell him sorry about all the rumors. Instead, I break eye contact and walk past him. I half expect him to stop me…

  But he doesn’t.

  ***

  IT’S FINALLY HAPPENED. MY art teacher, Mrs. Timlin has gone completely crazy.

  She’s making us finger paint abstract non-objectives.

  Mrs. Timlin is another Mount Saint Mary’s school staple, like Nurse Ehsani. She has long, perfectly straight hair that varies in shades of gray. She never takes off her acrylic, oil and clay splattered smock even when she goes to the cafeteria or the teacher’s lounge.

  “Find new ways to use the tools God has given you,” she says, as she pushes play on a CD. Janis Joplin[11] begins floating out of the speakers. My mom would always play her record when I was a kid. The lady had fierce pipes. She died when she was twenty-seven, the same age as Kurt Cobain. The tunes evoke a particular freedom and I find myself enjoying my sloppy attempt at finger painting.

  “You’re finding your groove, Ramona! It’s not dark, like your last piece. There’s something erupting in this painting. There’s colorful chaos but also a peculiar sense of clarity and understanding. Excellent work.”

  “It really is beautiful, Ramona. You should consider showing it in the art showcase in December,” Emmy says from behind me. I beam. To be able to express your feelings in such a physical way is a powerful thing that takes loads of skill and bravery.

  “I’ll definitely think about it,” I reply. “Thanks, Emmy. I’m flattered,” I playfully nudge her shoulder. “You’re the best artist in school.” She smiles shyly.

  “Thanks, Ramona. It’s not about being the best though. It’s just about making what you need to make. Anyways, think about the art show,” she says, patting my back before walking back to her easel.

  “I will. Thanks, Em,” I call after her.

  After a few more minutes, when I think it’s done, I take a step back and look at my creation. Every thought, and emotion I’ve had since last Tuesday is on the canvas. It’s beautiful. For a few minutes I’m at ease with peace and clarity.

  Suddenly, I’m hit with a revelation.

  I know what I have to do.

  ***

  I WANT TO CALL BRETT. I want to clear this all up, the fight and the mistake make-out session and carry on being friends. The stress and guilt is weighing me down.

  I’m going to call him.

  I’m going to do it.

  I am.

  My shaky hand holds the phone. It’s ridiculous that I’m this nervous to call my childhood friend. I let out a long breath. Like it’s automatic, like I’ve done it tons of times during middle school, like it’s all normal.

  I dial Brett.

  “Ramona,” he states. I freeze at the sound of his voice. “Ramona?”

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he says softly. I can tell that he’s smiling by the sound of his voice.

  It makes me smile too.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, naturally.

  “Um, right now? Nothing. Why?” He hesitantly adds, “We have to talk, Ramona.”

  “I know. Meet me at the park in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  We hang up without another word. I have no real idea what I’m going to say to him. For once, I’ll trust my instincts.

  “Parents, I’m leaving! Be back soon!” I shout as I’m half way out the door.

  I ride my bike through Forest Meadows’ narrow lanes sending up crinkled orange and red leaves in my wake. I don’t stop until I land at the oak tree. When we were kids, this tree was our Olly Olly Oxen Free when we would play tag.

  I bounce around on my feet nervously. My hands are tucked up in the sleeves of my tightly knit dark red sweater. I should have grabbed a jacket, but I was too eager to leave. Honestly, if I knew it would be this cold and windy I would have waited until tomorrow night.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” His voice comes from behind me. I spin around and try to tuck away my hairs that the wind is blowing everywhere.

  “You wore that shirt on purpose.” He’s wearing his old Nirvana[12] shirt with a black zip up hoodie and jeans.

  “Nah, Bean,” he says, balancing on one leg with the other swinging out so he stays on the edge of the curb. He hops off and looks at me square on. “Okay, maybe a little bit.” He grins innocently.

  “Sorry that Daphne broke up with you,” I lie.

  “No, you’re not,” he confidently says, hopping off the curb. I try to bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning. “And I dumped her.”

  “I thought she dumped you? Did she find out? Did you tell her we kissed?” I spew out all these questions, all
of a sudden antsy and eager. He broke up with her. My heart flips in my chest as a rabble of butterflies swirl around my stomach.

  “I told her I didn’t want to date anymore and she got pissed and started those stupid rumors. I never told her we kissed.”

  I nod and we both just stand there for a minute looking down and around, silently.

  “I’m really sorry for kissing you in the hallway. I know you guys were dating and I–I really don’t know what came over me. I basically attacked you––literally––in the middle of hallway. I know it was wrong. I really–I really just want us to be friends again.” I shyly look at my fingers that are picking at my cuticles.

  “Don’t worry about the hallway. You didn’t attack me.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m not sorry it happened. And I miss you, too.” He pauses for a moment. “Ramona?” his shaky voice asks.

  “Yeah?” I say, equally as shaky, looking up at him. I contemplate confessing my feelings to him but even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.

  My guts must have tumbled out somewhere between my house and this oak tree.

  I have no idea what to say.

  “Thank you.”

  A thank you is not at all what I was expecting to come out of his lips. I look him in the eyes, sincerely confused. “For what?”

  “For standing up to Daphne for not dancing with me in the sixth grade. I heard what you said to her. I can’t believe I just remembered that last week. I’m such an idiot for dating her.”

  My mouth opens and my eyebrows rise upward.

  My mood shifts and I look at him and find myself blatantly scanning his body. My blood starts pulsing and I can feel my face get hot.

  He assuredly closes the distance between us. He’s so close I have to look up into his eyes. My heart pumps faster and faster. Every bone in my body melts when he grabs my hips. “I never said thank you for being a good friend.” He swallows hard. “So, thanks.”

  I stare at his mouth and hold his face to kiss him gently. I start to give him small, sweet kisses and he wraps his arms all the way around me in return. His hand travels up my back to eventually hold my face and delicately deepen the kiss. He doesn’t push further. If Brett and I had kissed in the eighth grade, this is exactly how it would have tasted. Gracefully imperfect, the way new and innocent kisses should be.