by SC Alban
Chapter Five
The next morning, I awoke with a start. The hazy veil of sleep was immediately pulled off as the events of the previous day smashed into my consciousness. Holy. Crap.
“Amadeo,” I said with a gasp.
Nothing.
I rubbed my head, jumped out of bed, and ran to the window. My Ranchero sat in the driveway unscathed. I shook my head. It wouldn’t show evidence of the accident, would it; Amadeo had fixed it right up. My mind tried to reconcile the events of last night. I scratched my head. Imagined events? Could it have all been a dream?
I laughed at myself. Of course it was. I couldn’t believe I thought for a second that I’d hit a cupid with my car. Geez, I was really letting stress get to me if I was allowing my imagination to go wild like that.
I stretched my arms high to the ceiling and released a massive yawn before getting ready for school. It was the last full day before finals. I was confident in all my classes…except one. Jay and I hadn’t exactly meshed well as partners, not that I was at all surprised. The few times I did reach out by text, I was met with a prompt brush off. Today would be our last chance to connect before the craziness of testing took over.
I made a mental checklist for sixth period. Confirm the recipe. Create and organize the recipe cards. Plan out the groceries. It seemed simple enough. I just needed Jay to be present physically.
He’d better not be late either, I thought as I pulled my hair into a messy bun and groaned.
Who was I kidding? Of course he’d be late. He was always late. And considering the winter rally was today…
“Let’s get this over with,” I said to my reflection.
Slapping the light off, I ran down the stairs, grabbed a bagel from the breadbox, and headed out. When I reached my car, I threw my backpack in and turned toward the barn. Time to feed Cosmo. I walked over to the barn, grabbed the door handle, and stopped. Why was I hesitating? It wasn’t like I’d find anything other than a hungry horse inside…right? I put my ear up to the rough wood and listened. A shiver traveled up my spine, but I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself, and slid open the door.
The barn looked as it always did.
“What did you expect?” I said, shaking my head.
Cosmo nickered in his stall as I entered. I shot one more quick glance around. The buckets and stool looked untouched. There was no evidence whatsoever of my chat with Mr. Bossy Cupidpants. I shook my head. Wow. That was one vivid dream. How could I have even thought that something so absurd was real? I laughed at myself again, and Cosmo snorted.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I said, finally heading towards the hay to appease my spoiled horse.
I nearly fell asleep amid the crowd of restless teenagers as the cheerleaders performed their first-place routine—again—at half-court. It was their sixth performance since they won nationals last February. Would they ever do anything different? Would anyone in this town?
I glanced around, my eyes heavy. Man, that dream last night tired me out more than I thought. I blinked a couple times and shifted on the bench. The majority of my classmates were yelling and screaming, caught up in the energy of the last week before winter break. I settled back in the topmost corner of the senior section of the bleachers. Next to me, Veronica Drake and Jed Howard devoured each other’s faces as the rest of the class jumped and howled at the cheer performance, the bleachers vibrating at a near nuclear level and sending my butt into numbness. How could people become so emotionally involved in high school?
“Take it somewhere else,” I grumbled at my neighbors.
Veronica side-eyed me and huffed. “Loser,” she muttered under her breath before continuing her meal.
Ugh. Gross.
My eyes drooped further as the cheer squad pranced through the routine, their red and gold skirts flapping in the air as they tumbled and acrobatted into various positions, their foil hair ribbons sparkling under the gym lights like the little bits of iron pyrite that filled the silt in the riverbed on our property.
I raised a hand to my mouth and tried to stifle a gigantic yawn, my eyes half-closing, and caught a glimpse of curly white-blond hair a couple rows down. What the—I snapped awake and craned my neck to look around the guys sitting in front of me. That looked just like…no. No. It couldn’t be. As I shifted forward for a better view, I saw the blond curls bounce and glow under the gym lights. My stomach clenched. But that was just a dream…I leaned forward until I was hovering over the bench below me.
“Um, could you maybe back up?” one of the guys said.
My eyes darted down to the speaker and I offered a half-smile.
“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, moving back.
My gaze found the spot where the offending head of hair had been, but it was no use among the crowd. The only heads I could see now were covered with ball caps and ombré highlights. I leaned all the way back. Great. Now I really was imagining things. I scrubbed my eyes with my fingers and yawned again. This time, the yawn took over, forcing my eyes closed. I shouldn’t have been surprised by how tired I was after all the studying I’d been doing for the trig final. Maybe all that brain focus on shapes made my dreams see hearts. I shrugged. Totally worth it; I was going to ace the test. My mind wandered. What would college classes be like? I’d bet I’d have to study twice as hard. At least I’d be able to do it in anonymity. Excitement swelled in my chest. I was actually moving on and away from all the nosy-in-everyone’s-business gossips. Blending in—being the person no one knew, someone no one would look at or whisper about—was a dream come true. I wouldn’t be that girl anymore.
I shook my head and reached into my sweatshirt pocket, pulling out the grocery list I’d made for home ec. Jay promised he’d be available after school today. A smile tugged at my lips as I imagined myself and Jay Michaels walking down the aisle of Donovan’s Grocery, filling our cart together…like a couple.
OMG. Stop. Now.
Where did that come from? I threw the thought away. I looked back at the court as the squad got into position for their final stunt. I rolled my eyes. The intensity of the cheers swallowed up the gym as Kim Murphy flew through the air and landed safely into the arms of her waiting teammates.
“So silly,” I muttered, reaching down for the backpack at my feet.
“What? You don’t like rallies?”
I snapped my head to the right. Jay, perfect jawline and all, looked at me, an amused expression spreading across his face. Shaking my head, I closed my mouth, hoping he hadn’t noticed the drool that collected at the corner with his sudden appearance. Because I totally didn’t care that he was there.
“Not particularly.” My gaze fell into his rich hazel eyes. I blinked quickly and shoved my head low, fiddling with my bag’s zipper. “Shouldn’t you be down there?” I nodded in the direction of the court. “With your people.”
He leaned back against the bleachers and shrugged. “I don’t have to be down there until after the skit. Besides, they won’t announce the team without me.”
In less than the time it took for him to complete his sentence, I remembered why he irritated me so much. I glanced up and caught his smile. I shook my head at those stupid white teeth, at the dimples and happy lines in the corners of his eyes. Ugh. He really was all ego. I stared at him blankly.
“Wow, Jay. That’s…” I took a deep breath. Did he have braces? He must’ve. How could someone have such super straight teeth and—time to change the subject. “Was there something you wanted?”
He deflated, his shoulders dropping just a tad, but managed to recover in a blink. “Yeah,” he huffed. “Look, I know we’re supposed to be grocery shopping after school today, but something came up and I—”
“For real? Are you blowing me off again? Are you freaking kidding me?” It was the third time in the past four days something had “unexpectedly” come up, with Jay leaving me to deal with finishing our assignments. “We’re supposed to be doing this together.
You don’t expect me to—”
“Megan, I know,” he said, his palms out as if in surrender. He peered around the bleachers and leaned in, his mouth close to my ear. “Look, I know I haven’t really…done much for the final, but I promise I wouldn’t cancel if it wasn’t really important. Also, I won’t be in sixth period today.” My teeth clenched, and he added, “C’mon Meggo, cut me a break, okay? This is the last time, I promise.”
My nostrils flared. I swallowed hard as any reaction I had toward his attractiveness flashed like tissue paper in a bonfire. First, he ditched me, and now used the one name I repeatedly asked him not to. My ears burned and were probably turning bright red.
“Don’t. Call me. Meggo,” I hissed.
He flinched. “Sorry, geez. Old habits, I guess. I just really need to know if you’re cool with covering for me this afternoon.”
What the hell was his problem? Meggo was Mom’s name for me. He knew that—practically everyone in our class did. How could they not? She was our sixth grade English teacher, after all. Her nickname for me escaped no one’s attention, as demonstrated by the continuous under-the-breath snickers of my pre-pubescent classmates. At the time, I had been horribly embarrassed by it. What I wouldn’t do to hear her say it now. A slip of loss ghosted its way through my heart, and I inhaled deeply through my nose. That name died the day she did. Why couldn’t he leave it buried?
“Fine,” I spat through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to argue with you about this. You just better be at the final. On time. Don’t screw this up for me.”
He nodded, and the tension in his posture released now that I’d given him a free pass. I narrowed my eyes at him, ensuring he knew I wasn’t happy with the situation. But I couldn’t do much about it now, and I was pretty sure he used it to his advantage.
“I really appreciate this. You have no idea. Thank you.” He paused. “You’re really cool. I…I mean it.”
His sincerity took me by surprise. Holy crap. A compliment from Jay? I blinked a few times in confusion.
He sat there, his eyes taking me in, as my hands fidgeted in my lap. Is he waiting for me to respond? The empty space was uncomfortable. Instinctively, I backed away, putting my hand up between us.
“Look, don’t get carried away, okay,” I said, masking my discomfort behind sarcasm. “It’s not like I really needed you to go shopping with me. I’ll probably get it done in half the time now.”
He grimaced, and a pang of guilt hit my heart. I really didn’t intend to be such a bitch.
“Well then, I’m glad I won’t be there to inconvenience you,” he retorted. “I better go. They’re gonna announce the basketball team soon.”
He bounded down the bleachers to meet the rest of his teammates waiting in the wings. My eyes traced his path. I felt a little bad for being rude, but it was better than the alternative. As personal experience dictated, everything was easier when there was minimal emotional attachment.
I rested my chin on my hand, my elbow propped up on my knee, and sucked in a sharp breath as Mom’s memory weaved back into my thoughts. I could still see her smile, as bright as the sunniest day in July. Just the memory radiated warmth. Even after all these years. God, I missed her.
A faded pain ached in my chest as the picture in my mind dissipated, but still, this dull misery was infinitely better than the sharp agony in the immediate years after her passing. Back then, my heart had been completely shattered, and I could barely breathe. I cringed remembering twelve-year-old me frantically trying to glue it whole again, grasping at anything to make the pain stop. It didn’t take long to discover there was no glue on earth strong enough to adhere my mess back together.
Tears crept into my eyes as I peeked further into the past. I had tried to make sense of it all, to find peace, but somehow, I couldn’t. It made no sense. And I’d been on my own. I clenched my jaw and shifted uncomfortably on the hard bleacher, reminiscing over sour memories. Dad had been no help. Still wasn’t. I resembled her too much—reminded him too much of her. His strategy? To stop looking at me. To stop talking to me unless absolutely necessary. To cross paths with minimal engagement. I didn’t want to remember the other night in the kitchen, but how could I not? Even now, knowing how things were, it hurt like the first time all over again.
Anger pushed the tears away as it took the place of my sadness. Not that he would’ve been much help anyway. He was too consumed by the gaping hole she’d left behind. Even as a kid, I could see he could barely take care of himself. Neither of us could. Helping others is impossible when you can’t even take care of yourself. I swallowed hard as I thought about his inability to do anything other than work.
Fortunately, my counseling taught me that the source of his pain came from the loss of my mother and, more specifically, her love. It wasn’t personal, his distancing from me; it just felt like it. I straightened and pushed back my shoulders. Enough. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself of that truth. It wasn’t my fault Dad couldn’t stand me; it was love’s.
I’d come to that conclusion years ago. The moment I’d made the connection was like an epiphany; it’d lifted the weight of the bulldozer that had been parked on my chest. Love had given us everything: joy, happiness, safety, a family, and then left swiftly without a second glance, effectively taking everything it gave, plus pieces of us with it. In my world, love equaled pain. So, if I could remove the love, I could remove the pain, or at least dull it down. It was basic mathematics. Bit by bit, piece by piece, I slowly chiseled the love away until I was able to function day to day.
Just like Dad.
My gaze continued to follow Jay down the bleachers. Perhaps, if Mom hadn’t passed, if things had been different, I’d be someone else. Maybe it’d be me flying through the air and being caught by my teammates, or the one yelling and cheering from the bleachers, or the one who had someone like Jay Michaels as my boyfriend.
Yeah, right.
A snort escaped. The boys in front of me turned and gave me an odd look.
“What?” I snapped.
Shaking their heads, they returned their attention back to the rally. I shifted my eyes to where Jay stepped down the last two benches. When he reached the rest of the team, he shot a quick glance up to where I was sitting. I averted my eyes and pretended to search for something in my backpack.
You didn’t see me looking. You didn’t see me looking, I repeated like a mantra, hoping he hadn’t caught me eyeing him. I didn’t need to give him any more ammunition to use against me the next time he wanted to bail.
I kept my eyes locked on my backpack, my hands sifting around blindly. When Coach Martinez began announcing the names of the varsity players, I scraped up enough courage and peeked through my hair to determine if Jay was still looking my way. A slight disappointment hit when I confirmed he was focused on the rally, his teammates playfully hitting his back, laughing and chatting through the noise. What was I expecting? Releasing a slow breath, I forced my racing heart to slow down.
What is wrong with you? You’re acting like an idiot, I chastised myself.
On any other day, I wouldn’t have been so flustered by him. To flake out was kind of his modus operandi. Everyone knew it. But today, for some reason, it made my bones rattle. It bothered me how he could so easily back out of something we’d been planning with little regard for me or my schedule; I had other finals, too. But it was more than just his disappearing act that got to me. No, what really bothered me was my eagerness to spend time with him. I had actually been looking forward to this afternoon. Until he ditched me.
So stupid.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. It’s not like I had anything else interesting or exciting to do after school anyway. At least not now.
My chest filled with the heaviness of disappointment. I pursed my lips and shoved the emotion deep down. I fisted and released my hands several times until I was confident it was stuffed away. Glancing at center court, the rally commissioners blasted “We are the Champions” over the louds
peaker while Jay and his teammates stood before the school, arms raised, pumping up the crowd, like miniature gods. The gymnasium reverberated like the inside of a drum as the entire school erupted in cheers.
“Please.” I rolled my eyes.
I thanked the universe when we were finally dismissed for lunch. About time. Students filed through the gym exits like cattle, and I followed the herd, counting the seconds until I could breathe fresh air. No more stuffy gym. No more stupid boys. No more imagined blond curls.
The sun hit my face as I stepped outside, its warmth a welcome contrast to the chilly afternoons that were becoming the usual. I walked to my car, my step brisk and my head down, avoiding the eyes of my peers, though I knew they weren’t looking at me. They’d stopped paying attention to me the minute I stopped going to their stupid parties held in whoever’s-parents-were-out-of-town’s barn to get drunk and high and hook up with each other. What was the point? I’d never escape this town acting like an idiot. Nope. Not me. I wanted out, and the only way I was going to do that was through school. I vowed to use every bit of energy I had toward graduating early. Losing friends was just part of the deal.
I removed the keys from my pocket as I approached my car and, in a smooth motion, unlocked and opened the door. I fell into the driver’s seat. As I leaned out to grab the door handle, a deep laugh echoed across the lot. My stomach twisted. The laugh was familiar; I’d recognize it anywhere.
My eyes darted in the direction of the familiar sound. Jay and his friends were joking around with a few of the girls on the cheer squad. Kim Murphy, Miss High-Flier herself, batted her eyelashes at Jay while Cindy Carmichael shot proverbial daggers into her back.
I smiled as he sidestepped Kim’s attempt to give him a hug. Well, at least I could give him points for not falling for every popular girl who threw herself at him. Whatever.
Suddenly, his eyes flicked over and met mine. Oops, busted. Even from this distance, the hazel glint of his irises in the winter sun drew me in, and my stomach fluttered. Without thinking, I raised an eyebrow, a half smile spreading across my face, acknowledging his unwanted situation. He gave me a quick half-shrug before returning his attention to the group.
