Not So Easy

by Sherry Gammon

  A clicking sound told Max she had another call coming in.

  “That’s the doctor’s answering service. I have to take the call. You’re the best.” She hung up.

  Before he set the phone down, it rang again. Max checked the caller ID. McKay, Martin. With every ounce of self-control he could muster, he laid the phone down. He needed time to think. He knew once he heard her honey-sweet voice, all reasonable thought would leave his brain.

  After she called the sixth time, he couldn’t handle the temptation any longer. He hopped on his old bike and rode up and down the canal to keep from answering the phone.

  **

  “JD! I called you like four times last night.” Emma sat down carefully next to him in journalism.

  “Sorry. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. I just wanted to talk. I found this old photo of Max last night—”

  “Hold that thought. I need to ask Mr. Roberts a question.” He bolted out of his chair.

  “Oh, sure,” she said, confused.

  He footed over to the teacher and asked some lame formatting question he already knew the answer to. Max knew Mr. Roberts loved to talk computers, and he soon had him embroiled in a debate over computer programs and operating systems. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Em. Ten minutes into the conversation, she came over.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Roberts, but I’m only staying half the day today. I need to talk to Ms. Haley about my science midterm. Would it be alright if I leave now?”

  “You bet, Emma. How are you feeling, by the way?” He wrote her a hall pass as they spoke.

  “A lot better today, especially since I refuse to take those horrible pain pills anymore. The nightmares they gave me were creepy,” she grimaced.

  “They’ll do that to you. Here you go.” He handed her a pink slip.

  “Thanks.” She took it and turned to Max. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

  He wanted to say no, he really did, but those sky-blue eyes were too much for him to resist. “Sounds good.”

  Guilt ate him alive for the rest of the morning. At lunch, he hurried to her table and planted himself on the end next to Jeff. Emma showed up a few moments later. She was forced to sit on the opposite end of the table, a tense expression on her face. Soon the other cheerleaders swarmed her and she was smiling and laughing, easing Max’s guilt. Her dad arrived as they finished eating to take her home.

  “JD, my dad wants to know if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight?” she asked as the bell for fourth period rang.

  “I can’t, Em. I promised Izzy I’d stop by. Thanks anyway.” He perched his backpack on his shoulder and waved to her dad. Emma didn’t say a word as he left for class.

  After school he went straight home, and to keep from calling Em, he called Izzy. “How’s it going?” He dropped on the couch and propped his feet up on the back.

  “Good. They think this system will work better for me and not leak. I hope so. My dad said I have to go to school tomorrow no matter what. But the good news is he’s letting me take the car, so we don’t have to ride the bus.”

  “Really?”

  “The doctor guilted him into it.” She laughed. “I asked the doctor if I should stay home for a couple more days to make sure the new appliance is working correctly. He said there was no reason for me to miss anymore school, and that if it did leak, my dad could bring me right to his office and he’d take care of it. I told him my dad was going out of town for the day and I’d be riding the bus because he never let anyone drive his precious Beamer. The guy kinda flipped out.” She laughed again. “He confronted my dad, who insisted I was lying to get out of more school and that it’d be no problem to let me drive tomorrow.”

  “Did he yell at you when you left the office?”

  “Oh, yeah. I just turned up my iPod and ignored him. He can never see the cord through my hair, the idiot. I just kept looking at him and saying, ‘I’m sorry,’ whenever his mouth stopped moving.” This time Max laughed. “I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks. Do you want some company tonight?” Max asked, meandering into the kitchen in search of cookies. He found sour cream and onion potato chips instead.

  “No. My dad feels bad about yelling at me, so he wants us to have a daddy-daughter date to make up for it. He’s taking me to some boring foreign film with subtitles. I can hardly wait,” she said, her voice riddled with sarcasm. “I have to shower. He insists. He said I smell like a dirty diaper. See you later.”

  A dirty diaper? He loathed her dad the longer he knew him.

  Max did an easy upper body workout since his ribs still hurt, then he went for a ride along the canal, which JD enjoyed. Pedaling home, Max thought back to when he first started helping JD. He was so sure that if JD lost a little weight, all his problems would disappear. He couldn’t have been more wrong. The exercise did help with burning off the stress, and JD felt better about himself, but it was the friendships he’d developed for JD that made the real difference in his life. And it all started with Em. She reached out and befriended an awkward, overweight guy, and drew him into her circle.

  And now Max was turning his back on her when she needed him most.

  He spun his bike around and pedaled straight to Em’s. He had a plan and hoped it would work. He found her sitting on the porch playing with a kitten as he came up her street.

  “JD!” She smiled happily. “I thought you couldn’t come over tonight.” She padded across the grass as he parked his bike in the driveway. The kitten turned out to be a tiny little puppy, hopped along after her.

  “Izzy and her dad are going to some foreign movie tonight. I see you got a pet rat,” he teased.

  “Isn’t she adorable? She’s a Teacup Yorkie.” Em tried to bend over and pick her up, but struggled with her brace.

  “I’ll get her.” He scooped the little runt into his palm. She tried to lick his face before Max handed her to Em.

  “Thanks. This thing is obnoxious some times,” she said, tugging on the brace.

  “What are you going to name her?” Max grinned as the puppy let out a high-pitched bark.

  “Not sure. I’m thinking maybe Bella.”

  The smile died on Max’s face. Whenever he and Em talk about getting married and having a family, Bella was the name they’d chosen for a girl.

  “I take it you don’t like the name?” She turned toward the house, Max followed.

  “It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Maybe you should name it something fierce, you know, like Killer, or Spike, as a joke.”

  She laughed, ruffling its fur. “Hmm, maybe.”

  “Why did you get a small dog? I thought your mom hates dogs.” He cringed. JD and Em hadn’t ever talked about dogs before.

  “My parents thought it would be good for me to have one,” she said, oblivious to his faux pas. “My mom insisted it be a little one. I believe her exact words were, Little dogs make little poops. Big dogs make big poops. You do the math.”

  “Your mother is a smart woman.” They sat down in the living room, the puppy now asleep in her palm.

  “I get the feeling that you’re upset with me for calling you Max last night?” She peered into his eyes. “I’m really sorry. It was those stupid pills. I threw them away this morning.”

  “Em, I feel uncomfortable talking about Max all the time. I know I didn’t cause the accident, but every time you bring him up, I feel a twinge of survivor’s guilt, I guess.” Max hoped the explanation would be enough for him to balance JD’s friendship with her, and help her find closure. With him.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think of that. I promise, I’ll never mention him again to you, ever.”

  “No. He was important to you and if you need to talk about him, I get it. Just not all the time.” He leaned over and stroked the sleeping dog’s head. “I saw your room last night looking for the bike helmet. You have to let him go.”

  “My father’s been talking to you, hasn’t he?” She got
up and walked to the door.

  Max stood, noting the anger on her face. “Em, he . . . we are all worried about you. We spend too much time talking about him and keeping his memory alive. You’re dad’s right, you’ll never move on if you keep trying to live in the past, and your dwelling on Max isn’t a good thing.”

  “You should go, JD. I have a headache and need to take a nap.”

  “Em—”

  “Goodbye.”

  Max let out a long, hard breath and stepped out the door. “Em—”

  “Say hello to Izzy for me. I’m sure she won’t bore you with stupid conversations about Max.” She slammed the door shut in his face.

  “Brilliant, Max. Just brilliant.” He rode hard back to JD’s, hoping to burn off the frustration churning inside him. Gabe should never have sent him to help JD. He’d made a mess of everything.

  The next morning as he got dressed for school, he finally remembered about the pen. He quickly slipped on his shoes, and grabbing the pen, headed out into the living room to give it to the slimeball. Only he wasn’t there. Mel sat at the kitchen table, her head down, drinking her favorite herbal tea, raspberry with lemon.

  “Where’s Tim? I have his pen.”

  “He left us,” she said, her face still buried in the cup of tea. Max fought the urge to jump up and punch the air in victory. Instead he told himself to try and understand what Mel must be feeling. He settled in the chair next to her.

  Then he exploded.

  “He hit you! That lowlife scumbag hit you.” Max jumped up and circled around. Mel had a large bruise on her face next to her mouth, along with a cut on her lip. “I’m going to kill him. I’ll spend the rest of my life behind bars, but it will be worth it.”

  “JD, calm down.”

  “Seriously? The creep punches my mother in the face and you want me to calm down?” Max yelled incredulously.

  “JD, he didn’t punch me. We had an argument, and I accused him of cheating. He got angry and slapped me.”

  Max stared at Mel as if she had lost her mind. “Oh, he slapped you. Okay. That’s so much better.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “And for the record, he is cheating on you. Some blond bimbo comes by almost every day to pick him up.”

  “Sweetie, remember? Tim has a suspended license. He’s not allowed to drive. Merissa’s his friend. She’s been kind enough to take him places until he gets his license back in six months.” She stood and set her half-finished cup of tea in the sink.

  “Is that what he told you? It’s a lie. I’ve seen them together. He’s cheating on you.” Mel folded her arms, but said nothing.

  “Mom, you deserve so much better than him. He’s a freakin’ creep.” Max hoped to get through to her.

  “JD, you don’t know what it’s like to be alone. Your father and I were so happy together. I want that again. I’m not one of those women who can be happy alone.” She blinked back her tears.

  “But he hit you. I’ll bet not for the first time. How can that make you happy?” She stared at him soberly. Max continued. “Mom, he hits me, all the time.”

  “Tim thinks I spoil you. He only wants you to be a stand-up guy, and not a big old momma’s boy is all.”

  “He beats me with the extension cord, regularly.” He pointed to the cord laying in the corner behind a chair in the living room.

  “He does?” Her brows pinched together. Clearly she didn’t know about the beatings. She gathered the cord and placed it on the top shelf of the coat closet. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Because I was afraid Tim would beat you up too, like some of the others have.” Max went out on a limb a little what that remark since he didn’t know any details other than she’d been beaten.

  “JD, no one has the right to beat you. I can take care of myself.” She slammed the closet door shut.

  “Mom, look at your face. Imagine what he would have done if I did tell you about it.” Max stepped over next to her. “You deserve so much more than losers like Tim. You deserve to be treated with respect. And you deserve someone who’s not out cheating on you.”

  “But I love him, JD. I really do.” She held back the tears, but Max could tell an internal battle waged in her heart.

  “You can do better, Mom. We don’t need a loser like that in our lives.” Izzy pulled up in front and honked her horn. “I’ll see you later. Think about what I said.” He gave Mel a kiss on the cheek.

  “He hit her.” Max got in the car and slammed the door shut. “She has a bruise on her face and a cut lip.” He slammed his head back against the headrest. “She said it was a slap, not a punch, as if that’s any better.”

  “This one hits her too? I thought after the last guy put her in the hospital she’d gotten a little smarter.”

  “Put her…the last guy! You’re kidding me?” Max yelled.

  “You don’t remember Calvin?” she scowled. “Dude, you need to have the doctors scan your brain and check for a tumor. Your memory is really bad. I don’t care if you were in an accident.” Max noted how soft her voice was as she spoke. He forced himself to calm down.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, after taking a deep breath.

  “I’m as good as I’ll ever be.” Izzy kept her eyes on the road.

  “It will be okay, Izzy. You’ll see.” She remained silent. He changed the subject, hoping to put her at ease. “Did you enjoy the movie last night?”

  “Nope,” she snapped.

  Max decided to keep his mouth shut instead. When they arrived at school, Izzy got out of the car slowly, keeping her right arm tight against her body. She had on a loose-fitting blouse. Max walked next to her over to the lockers.

  “You can’t tell, Izzy. You don’t need to worry,” he said as she stuffed her extra books in her locker. She turned toward his locker. “I don’t need anything until fifth period. I’ve been carrying my books around to build up my muscles. Want to feel my bulging biceps?” he teased, flexing dramatically.

  She finally smiled. “No, thanks. Seeing your bulging head is enough for me. Talk to you at lunch.”

  During PE, Max worried about not only Izzy, but also Em. She was so angry with him yesterday, and he had no clue how to make it right between them again.

  “What am I worried about? Em doesn’t hold a grudge,” he mumbled to himself on the way to journalism class forty minutes later.

  He was wrong. Em ignored him completely. She didn’t speak to him. She didn’t even look at him. Max made several attempts to talk to her, but she just walked away. He finally gave up and decided to give her space. For now.

  Since Em didn’t want to be around him, Max decided to sit on the opposite side of the cafeteria at lunch. He ran into Izzy between second and third period and convinced her to meet him there instead of hiding in one of the empty classrooms. Max watched as Em peered around for him. When she spotted him, she turned her back and sat down at the usual table.

  “JD, aren’t you going to sit with us today?” Jeff asked, draining a chocolate milk carton and tossing it into a nearby garbage can.

  “I’m meeting someone, actually.”

  “Meeting someone as in a girl?”

  “Maybe.” Okay, so Izzy wasn’t that kind of a girl to him, but Max played along, wanting to keep Izzy’s secret.

  “Alright!” Jeff high-fived him. “Catch you later.”

  The tables around him were almost full before Izzy strolled in carrying a shoebox size present with three smiley face balloons tied to it.

  “Izzy, you shouldn’t have,” he teased. “Who’s it from?”

  She set the box on the table, all smiles. “I have no idea. I found it outside my gym locker. I almost didn’t see it. I have a doctor’s note excusing me from gym for the rest of the year, so after class I didn’t need to go into the locker room. But a couple of girls told me someone had tied balloons to my locker. When I went in, I found this.”

  “What does the note say?” Max asked. A note reading Welcome Back was taped to the top of the wr
apped box.

  “I don’t know. Let’s see.” Izzy’s hands shook with excitement as she tugged it open. It made Max smile.

  “Izzy, welcome back. We hope you enjoy your lunch today, and don’t forget…” she read aloud to him. She turned it over, but that was all it said. “I wonder what’s inside.” She fingered the pink wrapping paper.

  “I told you things are getting better, didn’t I?” She playfully stuck out her tongue at him. “Are you going to open it?” Max asked, excited to see what was inside.

  She picked the box up and shook it. The contents shifted around. She set the box back down on the table. Eagerly slipping her finger along the edge, she carefully ripped the paper off the box. Izzy placed her hands on the lid of the shoebox. “I’m nervous.” She grinned.

  “Izzy, you’re driving me crazy. I want to know what you are not supposed to forget,” he said, referencing the last line of the note.

  She lifted the lid. A second note lay across the opening. “Your doggie bag. What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, reaching for the paper.

  A couple of girls at the table next to them giggled into their hands. A third girl elbowed them and they stopped.

  Max’s stomach dropped. He reached for the box. But instead of grabbing it, he tipped it over. Baggies and baggies filled with what had to be poop rolled out and across the table onto Izzy’s lap. She jumped up in horror, screaming. The girls at the table burst out laughing. Others glanced around, clueless. Izzy bolted out of the cafeteria. Max ran after her.

  “Izzy, wait,” he puffed. He had no idea she could run so fast.

  She wheeled around. “Things are getting better, you said. We’re making new friends.” Tears rained down her face. “Wrong again, JD.” She turned to the lockers and punched one with the side of her fist.

  “Why did I listen to you? Why didn’t I trust my instincts? Why? Why? Why?” She sagged against the lockers, bending over and resting her hands on her knees. “Emma’s our friend, you promised.” She shook her head as tears splashed on the ground. “You promised,” she repeated, almost in a whisper. “I’m so stupid.”