by Nick Rossi
“I’ve always wondered, little sister,” Mason said as he sat beside her. He rolled up the short sleeves of his t-shirt to cool off. “How do you have such impeccable timing to ruin things?”
She sighed heavily, succumbing to her teenaged tendencies to flare on the dramatic side of things. It was the easier thing to do instead of silently brooding and being over analytical of the interaction unfolding before her with her sibling.
“It’s difficult sometimes, I won’t lie,” she said, her voice calm and uninterested. “It’s actually a 7-tiered process that took quite some time to master.”
Mason seemed to be surprised by her quick and witty response. Clearly, a quick wit wasn’t typical of the old Darcy and she enjoyed this temporarily stumping of her brother’s usual vitriol personality.
“Did you learn this process in between shopping at the mall and kissing Claire’s ass?” he finally replied, anger obvious in his voice. He looked at her squarely in the eyes, clearly baiting her to engage in some sort of spat. She wasn’t feeling like it and so decided to just be honest in her retort.
“Isn’t it tiring to be so mopey and angry all of the time, Mason? In case your Ivy League brain didn't clue in to the little scene earlier at the dinner table, I honestly really don’t know why mom is so bummed out. End scene.”
Physically exhausted by the entire taxing interaction with her brother, she slowly began to sit up, figuring that her next activity should only include a large tub full of hot water and bubbles. She did have a thing for aromatherapy and the well stocked Bed, Bath and Beyond-ish bathroom that adjoined her bathroom was sure to have something that would lift up her spirits.
“Which is so characteristic Darcy.” Mason replied, matching her action and also sitting up in the chair. He looked at her attentively, still avid on having an argument. She decided not to bite and began to walk towards the door entering the kitchen. Mason followed her without hesitation like a little puppy.
“So what’s got her so down anyway?” she asked once Mason stayed quiet for a few moments, a rare event unto itself. It was obvious that she should have known the reason, but she figured she may as well continue the ‘dumb sister’ routine.
“Oh, it’s only the anniversary of Grandpa’s death, stupid,” Mason casually replied as they entered the now empty kitchen. Instantly, and semi-physically, she felt awful about having forgotten such a serious event. The small supper she had eaten just an hour before turned sour and acidic in her stomach and for a moment she felt she was going to throw up right there upon the white marble that seemed to encase every surface in the kitchen.
She chastised herself silently again for not having inferred that it was something serious that she had ‘forgotten’, but she also managed to quickly reassure herself that there was no possible way to have remembered the sad event that her mother was silently mourning.
“Yes, very stupid,” she whispered to herself, loud enough to cause her brother to chuckle. She found his reaction surprising and intriguing, especially seeing as she had not heard her brother heard her brother laugh, let alone seen him smile since the 'switch' began.
“I guess I’d better go make this mess-up right, huh?” she said, grabbing a cold bottle of water out of the mammoth refrigerator. She couldn’t help but be awed by the entire section of the fridge seemingly reserved for water bottles, of which she approximated at least 50 all perfectly aligned. Before taking a sip from the bottle, Mason looked up at her, a slight smile still upon his face.
“Yes, I’d say that’s a rather good idea,” he replied. “Before Mom has a complete nervous breakdown because she thinks her dutiful daughter can’t even remember the passing of her grandfather’s demise.” Darcy thought she heard him stifle a giggle behind his words but wasn’t entirely sure.
“Are you ever not sarcastic?” she laughed. She took a sip of water and watched her brother leave the room quietly. Progress, she thought to herself. Baby steps.
She made her way out of the kitchen and walked to the den where she noticed her mother talking animatedly on the phone. She took a seat beside her mom upon the leather sofa that took up the entire wall of the living room/den and waited to apologize, again, for another flub she didn’t intend to make.
***
After a lengthy chat with her mother that resulted in both Platt women shedding tears and laughing loudly intermittently, she made her way back to her bedroom. She figured now was a good a time as any to begin poking around and make a decent effort to try to learn more about her new persona.
She hadn’t had much alone time in the past few days, let alone weeks, to fully commit herself to nosing around her own bedroom. The bedroom of the girl that she now was, and still, remained an undiscovered land, albeit one with fluorescent colors and modern technology. And some very slight flourishes of actual style.
After spending ample time glancing at the books on the shelf that sat parallel to the bed, she read the spines of the many pieces of writing that faced her. Absent were the books that the modern-day she dearly loved and instead sat books that she should have been reading, ranging from To Kill a Mockingbird to The Bell Jar. What caught her eye, however, was the earmarked copy of Death of a Salesman.
She pulled the well-worn book off the shelf and took it with her to the bed. Lying down, she allowed herself to relax. She was surprised to see that the other her had highlighted several passages from the book that seemingly dealt with the obvious themes of superficiality and attractiveness. She found this really surprising, considering all that she had learned thus far about her new personality, superficiality and the adoration of physical beauty was what her life had been built on.
Now it could have been that the former her highlighted these passages because she felt the same way as deluded Willy Loman, but she felt that it was deeper than that. It was almost like the old her was less superficial than the new her, and all those around her thought so fervently.
As she read the various highlighted passages, a sheet of paper fell out of the book and onto the bed. It appeared to be a page that had been torn out of a diary or a journal of some sort, written in the neat writing that she recognized as similar to her own.
She put the book down and lifted the sheet to read it, excited to find out more about the 17 year old her, the enigma.
The mall was the usual routine. I watched Claire try on 5 different black dresses that looked exactly the same. She asked me if she looked fat but I just laughed at that as her body is amazing, which she totally knows. She was buying a black dress for a special date tonight. She said she wanted to look extra hot, which is a huge joke because Claire could wear a garbage bag and look better than most girls at school, including me. My flat chest and big butt would look so ugly in the dress Claire was in. She asked me if I still had her red scarf that I borrowed at thanksgiving, which I thought was weird as I had never borrowed that ugly thing, but in usual Claire fashion, she was convinced I had it.
Flat chest and big butt? she thought to herself. This girl was deluded.
She continued reading, completely riveted by the words.
I wonder who she’s going out on a date with. It’s obviously not with Luke because Luke is meeting me tonight. He keeps asking to come over while C thinks he’s at football practice so we could fool around, but I’m not into it anymore. Luke’s been totally in love with me since like 9th grade and while I semi-contemplated dating him, Claire totally swooped in and began to date him. I was pissed off at first but I got over it. I mean, I didn’t really like the guy after all, but since Claire had become all weird and secretive lately, it was easy to get it on with Luke.
She went on reading, totally enthralled by the journal entry. She found it more interesting to read and savor than the books she had been reading for school, primarily because it was more authentic and real, almost urgent in its cadence. She flipped the page over, interested. What had Claire been hiding?
When I got home after the mall, Charlie was waiting for me in front of my b
edroom door. He looked so hot – he was wearing a super tight white t-shirt which showed off all of his muscles, and he had a little bit of stubble on his face which drove me crazy! I had been trying to talk to Charlie for years, pretty much ever since he and his mom Glenda began working for my parents, but he’s so shy and quiet. I was really surprised to see him waiting for me. I was so shocked when he asked me to the prom! I told him it was like 5 months away, and he laughed and said that he knew that every other guy in school would ask so he figured he’d get to me first. What a sweetie! I said I’d have to let him know, which made him look super sad, but it’s not like I couldn’t reply right away.
A girl needs to think about these major decisions in her life. I told him I’d tell him next time I saw him, probably that weekend (which was totally enough time to think!), and he just sort of sulked away as I flew into my bedroom, giddy, suppressing my joy.
I pulled out my cell phone to text Claire, but thought twice about it. She knew that I thought Charlie was super dreamy, but she was always making fun of him, saying how poor she was, and how weird it would look if I dated the housekeepers' son. She was right – it would look weird, but I didn’t care. Everyone I hang out with at school, everyone I talked to, are so fake. They only care about looking good and not eating. Sometimes I just wished I could move to like a small town or something and be a normal girl!
She was disappointed to see that she had reached the end of the journal excerpt. It seemed that 17-year-old her wasn’t as entirely vapid as she had previously thought, or that Claire wasn’t acting more mean than usual. She was intrigued by what Claire had been hiding and who she could have been secretly dating, but had made up her mind that there was no way she would ever find out as Claire wasn’t the most divulging sort.
She laid back down on the bed, feeling the softness of the many pillows around her and relished in the silence that the room brought her. After reading the excerpt of the old Darcy’s journal, she felt closer to younger version of herself in some way, almost nearer to her, if that could be. Why had that single page in particular had been torn out rather hastily and shoving the fragment inside her apparently favorite book, she wondered to herself. Did that mean that the rest of the journal was around the bedroom somewhere, nestled within another keepsake? As the many thoughts flooded her mind, she drifted off to a sleep that she welcomed with open arms and closed eyes.
Chapter 20
She heard a loud knock on her bedroom window, abruptly waking her up from her deep sleep. It took her a few serious attempts to actually open her eyes, but when she did and she looked around the room, she noticed that it was dark, even with the blinds wide open. Hearing another tap on the window, she quickly switched on her bedside lamp, illuminating the room.
She walked slowly over to the window, mentally noting that it was definitely not a normal teenage event to have someone throw things at her bedroom window, let alone in the middle of the night. Although she couldn’t help but think there was something slightly romantic about it. Her clock showed it was close to 2 am. Recognizing that fact, she grew nervous as she slowly continued to make her way to the window.
She snuck up to the side of the massive glass paneling and hid behind the blind, shielding her presence from whatever lunatic was pulling an 80’s movie moment and catapulting pebbles upon the glass. She ever so slowly raised the blind, peeking to see who the culprit was.
She saw Luke in mid-throw of another rock and pulled open the window quickly.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she whispered loudly, startling Luke and causing him to drop the rock in his hand. He stumbled back slowly, almost losing his footing.
“Are you drunk?!” she said. Luke looked like he was going to yell something back, but she silenced him. “Don’t move – I’ll be right down!”
As she hadn’t even changed into her pajamas before resting her eyes, she was able to sneak out of her bedroom fully clothed. She quietly opened her bedroom door, ensuring that she wasn’t going to intercept her parents or her brother in mid-bathroom walk.
Once she discerned that the way was clear, she made her downstairs and to the backyard to the pool where Luke sat, legs bobbing in the water, completely laid back so that he was facing the sky, which was clear and full of shining stars.
“What are you doing, Luke?” she said, sitting down beside him. He smelled strongly of alcohol and she had to plug her nose just to talk to him. She pulled him towards her so they were at eye level.
“Coming to see my girlfriend,” he replied, moving forward to kiss her, but she was too quick for him and pulled away. Luke would have nearly hit the concrete patio if she hadn’t pulled him back up.
“Your girlfriend lives about 10 streets away. Why don’t you go and throw rocks at her window,” she spat back. She immediately felt remorseful for her pointed response because Luke looked like he was about to cry, similar to their confrontation in the school yard a few weeks ago. While feeling bad for being so rash, she still was annoyed that his puppy love for her was so hard to shake.
“I can’t stand to be away from you, Darcy. You don’t understand. I know you don’t feel the same way about me the way I feel about you but I can’t stand to be apart from you anymore!”, he slurred, turning his gaze from her to his feet which looked small in the lit pool.
“Luke – whatever we had…it is over now. You know that,” she tried to reason, but he was determined to declare his love for her for the umpteenth time, clearly not afraid to wake up her parents and or anyone else within the immediate vicinity, attributed to the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed.
“You keep saying that but I know you don’t mean it,” he went on, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. She felt guilty for treating him like this but he plainly wasn’t getting the picture. Judging from the journal entry she had read earlier that night, she had never really liked Luke, and was only toying with his emotions, which certainly was mean-spirited. Why do I have to clean up this mess, she thought to herself as Luke abruptly pulled his legs out of the pool, splashing water all over her t-shirt.
“Come on, Luke. You’re wasted,” she continued. “Let’s get you into the pool house.”
“Yeah, baby,” he replied, thinking they were going to do something completely different than what she had in mind, which was a big cup of coffee and a dry t-shirt for Luke to change into.
Instead of trying to clarify the situation, she put his arm over her shoulder and guided him into the tiny house that was about 10 feet away. Once inside, she turned on the small lamp that sat upon a side table so as to not alert anyone to the fact that she was hanging out in the pool house with a boy in the middle of the night. She grabbed a few towels off of the shelf that faced the tiny sofa that had Luke plopped himself upon.
“I’ll be right back. DO NOT MOVE,” she said firmly. “I need to change.”
“Into something more comfortable?” Luke replied, and then began to launch into a fit of laughter. She quickly shushed him before disappearing into her house once more.
When she returned 10 minutes later in a dry t-shirt and holding a steaming cup of coffee, she found Luke asleep on the sofa. She walked slowly over to him and nudged his shoulder, causing him to wake up right away.
“Oh, hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He looked around confusedly, surprised to see where he was.
“How’d I get into your pool house?” he asked, looking like a sweet little, innocent kid. She handed him the steaming cup of coffee and he took a big gulp.
“You were declaring your love for me at my bedroom window, Romeo”, she laughed, sitting down beside him.
“I’m such a loser,” Luke replied, redness blushing his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Darcy.”
“You’re not a loser, Luke,” she replied. He handed her the drained cup of coffee. “You’re just a teenage boy in love.”
“With a girl who hates me,” he countered, sadness in his eyes and redness beginning to color his cheeks.
“I don�
��t hate you, Luke. We just can’t do this to Claire. It’s wrong and I’m sorry that it ever started. We have to make things right and stop fooling around. It would kill her if she ever found out”.
She was surprised to hear Luke begin to laugh.
“You’re kidding me, right?” he said, turning around to face her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, genuinely unaware of what Luke was alluding to.
“You’re her best friend, Darcy. Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” he went on, incredulous at her obliviousness to his declaration.
“Don’t know what? Luke, you’re drunk and need to go home and sleep. You can sleep in here if you want until you feel ok enough to drive home,” she said, getting up. There was no point in talking to a drunken person.
“She’s sleeping with someone else," he spat out, forcing her to stop dead in her tracks.
“She has been since we started fooling around. I don’t know with whom, but she definitely is. She keeps denying it, but she is. I know it.”
“You’re being paranoid, Luke. I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she replied. She turned around, not interested in pursuing such a delicate conversation with a drunken friend. She soon walked slowly out of the pool house and closed the door softly behind her. She waited by the door until Luke turned off the light and fell back asleep.
She sat herself down on the patio chair by the pool, staring intently at the tiny pool house, which looked like a miniature replica of the mansion she lived in. She marveled at the incredible life she had been immersed into, but also marveled at the endless crises that seemed to infiltrate her new existence that prevented her from achieving true happiness and maintaining a precocious innocence.
So Luke knew that Claire was cheating on him, she thought. She laid back in the patio chair so that it was completely reclined and shifted her gaze to the night sky looming above her. The stars were large and bright, and she felt her eyes grow tired.
