by Eden Tyler
TWO
The school day doesn’t hold much excitement. I scarf down my breakfast in homeroom, catching a few glares from Mrs. Witch. Her name starts with a ‘W’ and is only one syllable but I’ve honestly never remembered what it is. Because she really does look—and act—like a witch. I wonder where her coven meets.
Aside from that, there are the two boys who are in the nurse’s office because some girl has been dating both of them at the same time. Not anymore; she already went home crying. Which is what I feel like doing when Mr. Johnson announces a pop quiz as soon as I sit down in History.
I guess I’m going to continue spending my day in a daze, not really paying attention to anything other than my failing relationship. Nothing is helping to snap me out of it. I’m probably going to get my dumb quiz back with a giant ‘F’ on it. It’s half blank and I highly doubt Blake Miller was the third President. But when I look at the paper, I only see our names filling in the blank lines along with different sized hearts drawn all over. Giving up, I pass my quiz forward and, as I watch it move from person to person, my heart races and my cheeks flush with the thought that I might have actually doodled those hearts on my paper.
After more class periods similar to History, only without quizzes to embarrass myself with, the last bell rings. Even though the time has dragged, it also feels like only an hour since I fought with Blake. I keep replaying the scene over and over, searching for any little thing I couldhaveshouldhave done to make it end differently or, if nothing else, at least to get some sort of real response out of him. An honest explanation why he’s letting that jerk mess with our thing we’ve had for so long.
I walk to my locker where I’ll get to meet up with Hollie. She’s always happy, which I adore—it helps put me in better moods. I haven’t seen her all day and when I glimpse her blonde head through the crowd, I’m already feeling better. The funk begins to fade.
At my locker, we pack what we need for the weekend—an easier job for Hollie than for me since I don’t seem to have written anything in my planner—and we discuss our plans for getting home. We can’t exactly ask Blake to give us a ride since I’d told myself as soon as he’d walked away from me that I won’t speak to him until he apologizes for being such an ass.
Speaking of asses, I really need to kick my own for trying to be nice when he’s obviously being a complete jerk. What was that this morning—me fawning all over him, apologizing and trying to fix everything? I shouldn’t be acting like that simply because he shouldn’t be acting how he is. Yeah, Andrew is affecting him in some way but why do I have to get the brunt of it? And then it’s all OK with an apology? Well it’s not. And what the hell is this I’m thinking now? My own mind can’t even make itself up. I’ve been wishing I’d done more and now I did too much? It’s all making me dizzy and my head begins to pound.
My best friend’s voice doesn’t help the headache factor. “Hey, Olivia! Perfect timing, girlie!” Hollie calls out to our friend, Olivia Ryan, and rips me out of my reverie. Maybe Olivia will have the time to drop us off at Hollie’s before heading to her ballet class.
“Well, hello ladies! What ya doin’ this afternoon?”
“Not much,” I tell her. “We were wondering if you could give us a ride. Blake and I are fighting and we really don’t feel like taking the bus.”
“Oh yeah, no problem! I just have to go get Preston at his locker first. Y’all ready?”
“Yep, let’s go.” Hollie and I look at each other and giggle. We tend to say things at the same time. Sorta creepy cool. We have a vibe, I guess.
We start walking down the hall toward Preston Quinn’s locker, which happens to be by both Blake’s and Andrew’s. My gaze is glued to my trademark flip flops. I just hope I don’t run into anyone or fall or something, which is entirely possible, knowing me. But I’m way too scared to look up because if I see Blake, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
Fortunately, Preston is the only one around by his locker and Olivia hurries him along because if he dawdles, she will, in fact, be late for dance class—something she takes seriously. Ballet was big for her in Texas and nothing about her has sized down since moving up here to the Midwest. Most definitely not her hair. Not one of those big, blonde, hair-sprayed chicks, she still stands out in a crowd with her enormous, brunette bob perfectly coiffed at any given time. I’ve no clue how the girl does it. And rarely a lick of makeup—she always looks perfect. Her Congressman father fits in perfectly in Wales, with its society, that’s for sure.
The four of us wander out into the parking lot, overwhelmed by the bright sun and warm, humid air. I don’t really like the stickiness because it makes it hard to breathe, but I’m still refreshed within seconds. It’s amazing how closed up a school building can make you feel. Sometimes I feel buildings like that should be outlawed. It has to be a violation of nature or something. Olivia holds her hand up over her eyes, searching for her little, red Vibe. I reach in my bag and pull out my sunglasses, oddly enough. I’m the only one prepared yet I’m the least practical of anyone I know. Olivia spots her car as I close up my bag and she ushers everyone along, picking up the pace and forcing us to follow suit.
“So are you coming over tonight?” Preston asks Olivia. “It’s gonna be so awesome! We have a couple kegs coming and I think Matt’s gonna DJ for us!”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Oh, shit… I forgot you and Blake are having a lover’s spat. He asked me not to tell you and Hollie about it.”
Oh, really? Is that so?
I shrug to show I don’t care one bit. “Whatever. Hollie and I have tons to do anyway. I was just curious.” Not exactly the truth, but there are a lot of options we could do…
But really, who the hell does Blake think he is?! I’ve spent my day doing nothing but think about him and this is how he chooses to be? Just perfect.
“If you don’t go to the party, you can hang with us, Olivia,” Hollie says.
“Thanks. I just might take you up on that since these boys are being so second grade about this.” She gives Preston a look that appears sweet, yet seriousness oozes from it.
“Whatever, man! You all can do what you want. But I’m gonna get wasted and it’s gonna be funnnn!” Preston stretches out the last word like this party is all that matters in his world. Which is probably the truth, sadly. The boy isn’t about much more than sports and partying. No one understands what sweet-as-pie Olivia sees in him.
But to each their own. It won’t last past this last bit of school, I’m sure. I’ve even seen websites devoted to when they’ll break up. A lot of money is on the table, too. These things tend to happen in small towns with kids who have monthly allowances that could buy nice cars, along with no real imaginations or decent outlets for fun.
We arrive at the car after what feels like about how long I was in school and we pile in, only to sit and wait in the super fun stop-and-go after-school traffic. Conversation isn’t so great with the tension, so Olivia blares the radio—apparently she has the same idea I did this morning. But Preston doesn’t seem to care, or maybe doesn’t understand because he just babbles away about the dumb party tonight and a bunch of other crap I don’t have much interest in simply because I have other worries. His voice is at around one-thousand decibels and acting as fertilizer for my growing headache.
I stare out the window, trying not to think about Blake. It’s rather hard with Preston’s voice reminding me of him but it’s easier than not thinking about my nightmares and that creepy shadow this morning. So that’s a bonus.
I glance back at Hollie a bunch—I actually got shotgun over Preston since he is being such a douche—thinking that if some of what she is thinking heads my way, I can pick up a bit of her good ju-ju. But she’s too busy dancing and singing to herself—just being Hollie. Which is enough to put a smile on my face for a minute. What would make me smile even more is if I could rub my bad ju-ju off on all the dumb boys we’re surrounded with. But then I wonder what’s w
rong with me, having thoughts like that. I really do love Blake and want to be with him. But I also can’t keep dealing with things the way they are.
The street is finally ours and Olivia speeds to Hollie’s first. I’m beyond glad to be getting away from Preston’s ridiculous chatter and I know Hols is, too – even though I shouldn’t invade her like that. I just feel so desperate for something other than what’s inside my own head. My thoughts are kind of scaring me today and I feel alone, even though I’ve been surrounded by people. Not that I’m not used to it—never quite feeling a part of everything … never fitting in. At least I know peace is coming in a minute. We’ll be at Hols’ and comfort will be mine.
As we get out of the car, Hollie reminds Olivia of the invitation to hang out. I find myself hoping we will end up doing something so I can avoid life even more.
I follow Hollie around to her backyard. I know it’s only high school, but it is almost the end and finals and graduation are coming up and, with everything else going on, well, we both are worn out from a long week. We definitely need to relax for a while.
Taking the liberty of getting the spare key from under a rock, I wonder, as I usually do, how Hols could possibly have come from this family.
Mr. Baxter left, God only knows where. And Mrs. Baxter (never remarried) is never home, and it shows. Everything inside is beige and boring, and the furniture is layered in something that looks dirty and sticky. Even the garden we’re standing in is shabby.
In all our years of friendship, I’ve never gotten up the nerve to touch much of anything. This might sound snobbish, but it’s not like that. I’m not like my family, or others in town – I’m honestly not. And besides, Hollie never spends time outside of her room either, unless she has to. She knows it’s not a nice place, but she makes the most of it.
Hollie’s domain—her bedroom—is remarkably different. Walking into it, we swish through a curtain of beads—and these aren’t the cheap, plastic beads one can find at any mall head shop. Hollie made them herself from gorgeous fabrics and chunky gemstones.
Her artwork is displayed on every wall, and throw pillows of all colors and sizes are tossed about the room. Her vibrant personality is displayed prominently, down to the deep violet bedspread with a bad ass cherry blossom pattern on it. I never cease to be amazed when I come over, which is pretty much every day. ‘Cause this room trumps my boring yellow and brown anytime.
I drop my bag on the floor and wander over to the stereo to pick out some good ‘forget about your boyfriend’ music. Not one for trends, I listen to what I like and tend to stick with it. To heck with if it’s cool. I find my favorite Nickelback song to start with and put the player on shuffle.
I turn around as Hollie plops down on her bed and lets out a huge sigh that vibrates through her lips just before it releases completely. “I wish we could go to the party tonight. Guys are so freaking ridiculous!”
“Well, we actually could go. It’s not like it’s Blake’s house or anything. And besides, I can easily avoid him. There’ll be plenty of people to hang with if you really wanna go there.” I don’t dare admit that I sort of want to see the guy.
Hollie hesitates for a second. “Are you sure it won’t be super uncomfortable?”
“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t get to decide where I can and can’t hang out. Especially if we’re ‘on a break’ or whatever is going on. Plus, it’s Friday night—it would be lame of us to stay in. We’ve been drones all week long! We’re young … we’re supposed to party and get into trouble and all that, right?”
I sort of laugh but Hols doesn’t. Guess she doesn’t get my joke. Although it wasn’t that funny…
Man, what is my deal lately? I’m so off; I’m not even me, it seems.
She answers me seriously. “All right then, we should go. But first, let’s mix up some drinks and do your fave—pedicures!”
“Hell yeah to the pedis, but are you sure you wanna drink? Well, you can but I shouldn’t—I don’t wanna do something stupid in front of Blake.” I’m arguing for no reason. No matter what I drink or how much, it never seems to affect me. Not a clue why, but I can’t seem to get drunk. Ever. Not for lack of trying, though … it would be nice to be able to escape that way.
“We’ll be fine. And what are you talking about, girl?” Hollie scrunches up her eyebrows and gives me a weird smile. “You know you’ll be fine. We just need to relax a bit.”
“Yeah. I suppose I could stand to do that. I have been stressing way too much.” I pause, considering. Maybe with how off this day is, I might end up with a buzz…
I go into the bathroom to get the nail polish while Hollie heads toward the kitchen for snacks and drinks.
Once we are settled on the floor, we pick out our colors. I adore painted toes and being barefoot and am thrilled it’s finally spring. May, to be exact. I don’t have to cover up in socks and clunky shoes much anymore, not for a while at least. Picking out a deep red that will look great with my dark, half-Italian, half-Spanish skin, I get to work.
Hollie decides on a light, sparkly shade of blue, which isn’t at all surprising. She likes to stand out as much as I like to blend in. We have kind of an ‘opposites attract’ type of friendship, but it works.
It’s comforting acting girlie, not thinking about the stuff that’s usually on my mind. Instead, we find ourselves discussing our plans to move in together soon.
“I mean, my mom’s hardly ever home, and your parents probably don’t even remember what you look like,” Hollie says, red creeping up her face like it always does when she gets angry.
“Right?! I could probably set myself on fire and they wouldn’t notice.” I giggle, only half-kidding.
I wish I had a different family life, but all I can do is move on. Grow up. Something it’s time to do anyway, with graduation coming, and then college in just a few months.
“We need to stop riding to school with the guys, too. I don’t care if it saves on gas. I feel like we’re stuck to them and have nothing of our own. And heck, Andrew’s not even my boyfriend. With my luck, people probably think he is—might explain why I’m still single.” In typical Hollie fashion, she sticks her tongue out to the side and rolls her eyes, knowing full well she’s too dang independent to have a boyfriend. She dates, of course, but never the same guy for long.
“I know. I guess I’ve just been trying to hang on to some semblance of the relationship Blake and I used to have. But that’s probably gone, huh?”
Hollie half nods, head moving to the side, not needing to say anything. My stomach sinks a little. I take a drink to bring it back up but it doesn’t work so well. So I focus on what I’m doing instead.
We continue to chat and work on our nails—all the while making fun of our town and our lives. Wales tends to keep its residents, holding on with a death grip. I, for one, want to get out but don’t know if it will happen. All I know is I need something different. Not just want—need.
We finish fantasizing about our plans, and I remember we’re supposed to call Olivia to see what she decided. Plus, I kind of need to tell her we’ve decided to go to the party … make sure it’s all right. After all is taken care of with her, I hang up the phone and waddle on my heels over to the closet while Hollie goes to the kitchen again.
I want to pick something fabulous to wear tonight. And Hollie has the best clothes to borrow. I can only wear her tops since I’m so dang short, but she has more than enough to choose from. Opting for the dark, distressed jeans I’m already wearing, since they fit great and I don’t really have a choice, I pair them with a tone on tone burgundy, beaded tank.
The color will set off my emerald eyes perfectly. I grab a matching, long, silk scarf to wrap around my neck and shoulders. It has silver threads running through it that look great with the necklace Blake just gave me for my birthday.
Standing in front of the mirror, I find myself holding the necklace and staring at it while my mind drifts back to that night again.
