by Nick Rossi
By Thursday afternoon, she was beginning to go a little stir crazy, but she remained firmly entrenched in her palatial mountain of pillows and blankets. She skimmed through some mindless magazines, and looked with very little effort to find the rest of her journal. She felt as though every time she sat up from her bed, she just wanted to lay back down again. Glenda was kind enough to leave a tray in front of her door at every meal so she was sure to be hydrated and fed, but her virtual non-existent appetite didn’t really faze her.
She still felt immense guilt for having slapped Claire, and for doing it so publically. Never having been a support of any kind of physical violence, she was embarrassed at being so out of control and brazen. Her anger had dissipated significantly since then, and she was pretty sure that her confrontation with Claire had essentially squashed the rumors of her pregnancy. But she still felt sorry. She felt sorry for Claire and having to endure being a teenager and pregnant, and she also felt sorry for herself.
She picked up her cell phone which felt like a heavy brick and was momentarily tempted to turn it on, but then thought better of it and let it drop back heavily upon her nightstand. She laid back upon her pillow, feeling the warmness and the sweet escape of sleep beginning to take over, when she heard a quiet knock on her bedroom door.
Her instant reaction was to just not acknowledge the source of the knocks, and that was exactly what she did for a few moments. However, the knocks didn’t let up and she decided maybe she should make her way towards the door, which seemed to be feet and feet away.
“Who is it?” she said when she finally reached the door. She glanced at her watch and noticed it was still only 1 pm.
“It’s me,” Luke said, his voice low. At first, she thought it was Mason’s voice but then quickly recognized Luke’s tone.
She pulled open the door and saw him. He looked concerned, his brow furrowed as he took in her appearance in. She pulled him into her room and slammed the door shut.
“WHAT are you doing here?" she said. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She walked back to her bed and sat down. Luke followed behind. He really is like a little puppy, she thought.
“Relax, Mom,” he quipped. “I was so worried about you. You haven’t been at school since Monday and no one has seen you.”
“Which isn’t that big of a deal, Luke,” she retorted. “I can’t show my face there. I was such a bitch.”
Luke laughed aloud, causing her to look up at him quickly.
“You’re such a bitch?” he said, in between fits of laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You couldn’t be less of a bitch.”
This caused a slight smile to break upon her face.
“In fact, I could say with all truth that you are one of the unbitchiest people I know,” Luke went on.
“Ok, ok, I get it. You have to make me feel better,” she replied. “And you know what, it’s working.”
Luke smiled and she thought she saw a slight blush color his cheeks.
“I don’t have to make you feel anything,” Luke said. “In fact with the way you’ve been treating me, I should be making you feel worse, not better.”
She punched him softly on his shoulder, and he jokingly grimaced in pain.
“How are you?” he then asked, his tone serious once more. She reverted her gaze to the carpeted floor, not sure how to respond. “I mean, seriously. Everyone is talking about how you handed it to Claire, which if you ask me, was a long time coming.”
She was surprised that that’s how the school was reacting to the drama of a few days before. She had always thought Claire was a force to not be reckoned with, but clearly the other student’s allegiance was just not there.
“Yeah, well…its complicated,” was all she could say in response. She didn’t feel like rehashing everything again, least of all to Luke, who continued to stare at her with his puppy dog eyes.
“It always is,” he replied. “You know, Darcy….I have to say, I’m sorry for being such a jerk to you for the last little while. I had a hard time understanding that you just weren’t into me anymore but I think I’m over it now.”
“Luke, it’s not…” she said, but Luke continued.
“I’m not going to harass you into liking me. We had something special but it’s obviously over now. You have to give me some time to really move on but I swear I won’t be bothering you anymore, and I definitely won’t be throwing rocks at your window in the middle of the night after polishing off a bottle of my dad’s tequila.”
Both friends laughed. She felt comfortable with the moment, and she really was grateful that Luke stopped by.
“And Claire broke up with me,” he threw in at the end. She looked at him and tried to assess his reaction to it when he continued. “Which is awesome because I couldn’t stand her anyway!”
This caused the both of them to laugh even harder.
“Anyway, I just wanted to see how you’re feeling,” Luke continued. “You look good, I mean, except for the eye crust and major bed head you’re rocking.”
She instantly tried to pat down her hair but it felt like hard in her hands. She did manage, though, to remove the eye crust that Luke brought up.
“Thanks, you ass,” she laughed. “Hey, thanks for checking in on me. You’re a good guy.”
They both stood up and walked towards her bedroom door. Before leaving, she went on her tip toes and kissed Luke on his cheek. He quickly reddened before waving at her as he made his way down her stairs.
She closed the door behind her, the pleasantness of the visit warm within her. Getting back into her bed, she felt a burst of energy and a tangible hope that things were going to get better, even if she had to work hard at it.
***
“What’re you watching?” Mason asked, plopping himself down loudly on the sofa beside her. She had been in the same position for the entire day (horizontal, twisted at the hip, and head flat against the expensive looking pillow). The large screen TV was keeping her company, and she liked the meaningless chattering of the endless parade of soap operas, mindless game shows and shiny actors-turned-talk show hosts. At this particular moment, however, she was fully invested in a riveting episode of Jeopardy. Alec had just made one of his signature passive-aggressive snarky comments, causing her to quietly snicker to herself.
“Jeopardy, my dear brother,” she replied, post-laugh. She was comfortable in her sweatpants and hoodie. She felt a few remnant crumbs of the bag of barbeque chips she polished off between Days of Our Lives and before Ellen under her hand as she adjusted the pillow.
“Could you be any more out of character?” Mason finally said once a commercial break began. “You look like a homeless housewife.”
She didn’t even take the energy required to come up with a witty retort for her brother and opted to remain quiet.
“Someone is in a mood,” Mason goaded, his voice low and patient. She knew he was just waiting for her to bite at his sarcasm, but she had absolutely no intention of engaging in a spat of words. She was too comfortable in her oversized hoodie which felt like heaven upon her shoulders.
“Ok, fine – I get it,” Mason went on. He turned his body slowly towards his sister so that the space that lay between them was rather intimate. She squirmed at the intimacy.
Still remaining quiet, she thought she felt Mason’s body turning nervous and uncomfortable.
“Maybe you’ll be this quiet for the rest of the pregnancy? Silence really suits you.”
She sat up at once, the blood quickly going to her head and causing a slight tingling pain at the side of her temple.
“What did you just say?” she whispered, turning her gaze towards him. She saw the tiny smile in his eyes though his lips remained straight. The dimple on his right cheek became prominent.
“You heard me, Mommy and Me. High school gossip tends to spread like wildfire, especially when it's as juicy as the unexpected pregnancy of my kid sister,” he replied, his tone even.
“I don’
t know how you heard the rumors, Mason, but they’re just that – rumors,” she replied. She felt her cheeks blaze.
“Clearly, I know that. I know you’re not a loose girl. But humor me – how’d the rumor start?” he asked, seemingly genuine in his question.
“You don’t want to know. It’s not a good story,” she replied, feeling her heartbeat return to normal. She turned her attention back to Alex Trebeck.
“I’m not expecting to hear a riveting tale,” Mason countered, still looking towards his sister. “It just seems like a vicious rumor to start. I thought you were the High school Sweetheart, unlike your other half.”
“First of all, it is an extremely vicious rumor to start,” she finally said, grabbing the remote on the coffee table in front of her and muting the television. “And secondly, there is no other half. It is all me. A whole. Totally, completely, 100% me.”
“I’m sure Claire would disagree.”
“Yeah, well, Claire is a major, sniveling and evil bitch,” she responded a little too fast, knowing that Mason would immediately be drawn to her outburst. She wasn’t wrong.
“Wow – that seems a bit harsh….but wait. Does that mean SHE started the rumor?!”
“Ding ding. You got it, Mr. Mensa. And don’t ask me why because I’ve given up on trying to understand that girl and her convoluted neuroses.”
Mason laughed loudly, which then in turn made her start to laugh.
“I wouldn’t disagree with you on that one,” Mason went on.
“You hardly know her. How could you agree with me?” she replied, a smile still on her lips.
“Yeah, well…” Mason said, nervously sitting up, his back up once more. The change in body language and body tone did not go unnoticed by Darcy who was intrigued at this change in attitude.
“Yeah, well, what, Mason? Do you not like Claire? Has she done something to you?”
Mason took a few seconds to finally reply, which to her, felt like a very, very long few seconds. She thought she noticed his cheeks blush a bit, but it could have been attributed to the setting sun that filled the gigantic windows around her.
“You can say that. Hey, listen, Darcy – I’ve got to run,” he said, getting up abruptly from the leather sofa. He began to walk towards the kitchen but she jumped up from the bed and intercepted him before he disappeared.
“Mason, wait,” she said, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around quickly, the frown on his forehead unmistakable.
“What? I need to go,” he replied, whisking her hand away like she had leprosy and continued to make his way into the kitchen.
“What did Claire do to you? I’m not an idiot – I can see you’re upset.”
Mason laughed before opening the kitchen cupboard to get a glass. “Aren’t you observant?”
“I’m many things, Mason. Now tell me! I know that you’re hiding something,” she countered.
She watched him pour water into his glass and take his time drinking every last drop. She remained firm in her stance and waiting patiently until he drank every last drop.
“There’s nothing to say, Darcy. Why don’t you go back to your laborious Friday afternoon events atop the couch over there,” he said, pointing to the large couch just a few feet away.
“Can’t you just be honest with me for once, Mason? I just want to know.”
“We all want to know a lot of things, Darcy. Now buzz off and leave me alone.” With that, he left the kitchen and walked upstairs, leaving his sister fuming in the kitchen.
Chapter 26
The days now seemed to pass by at a hurried pace. It was as though it was time to go to bed as soon as she woke up in the morning to the sound of her local radio station blaring god-awful dance music. She had settled into a routine where she thought she was being unproductive and rather boring, but the ironic part was that her days were chockfull of events and appointments and meetings that she didn’t get to realize she was boring until she let her minds encompass her mind before nodding off to sleep each night.
The teenage existence that had befallen her was not that entirely different from her adult life, a life that she silently found herself missing from time to time. It wasn’t that she was unhappy being a teenage per se, in fact, she relished in certain activities that she thought she never would experience after graduating from high school the first time around. She enjoyed being the popular girl, the girl that everyone wanted as their best friend, but she also found it sort of exhausting.
She was unable to walk down the school hallway without some keen freshman trying to engage her in idle dialogue and conversation, and she sometimes felt bad for not being able to converse with them when she was on route from one class to the next. The guilt she felt from not being able to speak to the younger kids more at length came from a place of recognition and awareness. She WAS that kid in high school and she remembered avidly being heavily disappointed when the popular girls wouldn’t acknowledge her existence.
She devotedly and passionately threw herself into her new life. She became a rather vocal and leader of the Prom committee which by that point was meeting twice a week after school for at least two hours. She made the effort to tutor kids also twice a week and sparked an unexpected friendship with Glenda. The latter was actually really enjoyable for her as she could just remove the pretense that she often felt when she was in school or hanging out with her co-horts. Glenda was a truly kind woman that she felt instantly at ease with. She found herself pining for Sylvia each day.
At that point, a few weeks had passed since her interaction with Claire and, she thought, that the pregnancy talk had silently abated, especially since the other students didn’t see her look any visibly physically different. No fuel was added to the fire of that vicious rumor, and she was thankful, and a bit surprised, that the rumor came and went as fast as it did.
While she still had to interact with Claire in some situations (the group work in her English class had been particularly uncomfortable), she was able to be mature about their fizzled friendship. Claire seemed to be in the same proverbial boat and didn’t engage in any catty comments or resurfacings of awkward interactions.
Bennett had been a true friend amidst all of the clear dramatics that had taken over her life. The girl was funny, honest and strangely confident, and a true breath of fresh air to the other acquaintances that she had. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that Bennett knew that she was not all that she had appeared to be, but she never let on nor pried into it. There was no way she could drop that bomb. No one would have believed it anyway.
Now, as she sat alone at a desk in the library which was nearly empty at 5 pm that Thursday afternoon, she felt her thoughts swivel and swoosh about the ever present deadline that Marina had imposed upon her months ago. She couldn’t believe that she had been living this life of a teenage girl again for almost 3 months. She felt like she should have experienced some sort of epiphany into the nature of her existence, but instead, it was full of nothing but uncomfortable arguments, partial friendships, and tense familial situations. True, at the beginning of ‘the switch’, she fully engaged herself in dramatic blow-ups with Claire and her brother Mason, but recently she had begun to wonder how Marina’s ominous request of ‘making things right’ was going to be fulfilled.
She rested her head atop her Biology text book in the small carol, allowing the thoughts to ping around her mind, trying to find some sort of semblance of order or even a slight hint on how she was to fill her end of the deal with Marina. After the first few superficial thoughts left her mind (mostly centering around type of Prom dress that she still had not purchased for the big day), she began to find herself going back to how she had to make things right. She still had absolutely no idea on what it meant, or even if it meant anything at all.
She tried to dissect what ‘making things right’ meant. Did it mean righting a wrong? If so, what was the wrong? Was it even that simple to identify and recognize? The things that could have been taken as ‘wr
ongs’ in her life were things that she knew she could not change, regardless of how much effort she put forth. She couldn’t change the fact that the girls in her class were going to have body issues due to the preponderance of unrealistically photo-shopped girls that plastered the magazines they all read and were in the TV shows they all gossiped about in the mornings.
She knew she also couldn’t change the dynamics of the teenage existence. She couldn’t make freshman students feel more confident in their own skin. She couldn’t make her brother treat her better and let go of the clear emotional baggage he carried so heavily with him, day in and day out. She couldn’t tell Claire that she didn’t have to be so aggressive and mean to give the illusion that she was in control of her life, and in control of who was deemed cool and elite in their school.
As she felt her heartbeat quicken and a slight flop of sweat appear upon her forehead due to her stressful thoughts clouding her mind, she decided to gear her mind towards the things that she could do. Things that she could make a little bit better. Making things right was so objective and ambiguous. Something that may have seemed right to her may appear as wrong to someone else. She decided that she should just put her heart in the right place and act in a kind way. She wasn’t going to be a saint, in fact, one of the things she had anticipated mostly in being a teenage girl again was being able to be reckless and carefree. But she figured she could try, regardless of how minute the actions may be, to make someone’s existence just a little bit easier, a little big more enjoyable.
She felt her heartbeat slow down a bit with this realization and partial guide on how she was going to move forward. The Prom was only two weeks away and with that, she knew Marina was going to re-appear with her decision made. There were no recent sudden apparitions of the mysterious book owner, which she had taken to be as a good sign and that she was on the good track, whatever that had meant.
