Darcy, Defined

by Suzanne Williams

  Paige leaned in toward me and gave me a hug. “Thanks, Darcy. You’re a good friend.” It was the first real hug between us, the first time I felt the warmth and weight of her body against mine. I’d been needing a hug like that from a friend, from someone I could rely on.

  “Well, I’m hungry,” I said after a moment. “Can we go finish our lunch now?”

  Paige nodded. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” she asked.

  “You like fine,” I said.

  “Just fine?” she asked.

  “Well, what do you want me to say, perfect?” I asked as I pushed the door open.

  “Okay, but seriously. I don’t want to go back out there if everyone can tell I’ve been crying.”

  “You look normal, not like you’ve been crying.”

  As we walked through the door, I turned my head toward the hallway to see Maya standing right in front of me. For a split second we all froze, and it felt like my heart had stopped. It was the closest I had been to her since we had gone to Paige’s party weeks earlier.

  “Excuse us,” said Paige, giving me a little push through the doorway.

  Maya just stood there silently, looking horrified, like she’d just witnessed a murder, and Paige and I ran back to the cafeteria like we were escaping one. “Well, that was awkward,” said Paige when we got back to our table.

  “Should I have said something to her?” I asked.

  “No. She’s the one who owes you an explanation.”

  “I know. It just feels weird. And honestly, I don’t have a crush on Matt anymore anyway, so maybe I should be over it.”

  “It’s not just about Matt. It’s about the way she betrayed you. There’s no excuse for that.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess that’s the way I see it too.” I took a bite of my turkey sandwich, despite the sick feeling I had in my stomach. No matter how much I wanted to agree with Paige, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret over running from my former best friend. Should I have just said hello like a normal person? Or maybe have used the opportunity to confront her about her actions at the party? I took another large bite of my sandwich, chewing it faster than I could breathe.

  “Eating your feelings much?” said Paige.

  “Maybe,” I said. “It’s either that or bawling in front of everyone in the cafeteria.”

  Paige put her hand on mine. “Remember what you told me a few minutes ago? Relationships shouldn’t make you feel bad. You’re better off without friends who treat you like that.”

  “You’re right,” I said once I had swallowed my food. I looked over to see Maya returning to her table with Matt and his friends, just two tables away from ours. Had she already known Paige and I were in the bathroom before coming in? From her position she would have been able to see each of us get up and leave the cafeteria. But the look of shock on her face appeared too real. I wondered what was going through her head. Was she angry with me for not returning her calls? Was she embarrassed or remorseful about what had happened and just too stubborn to apologize in person? Did she think that her new relationship was worth losing the friendship she had with me? There were so many questions I had for her about it all, and it seemed like I would never have the answers.

  “So, I’m going to take your advice,” said Paige, disrupting my thoughts about Maya. “I’m going to call Tom after school and find out what’s going on. But if what I’m afraid of happening becomes reality and we break up, I don’t want to be alone. Can I do it from your house?”

  “Of course,” I said. “There’s no gardening today, and I’m not cleaning this month, so I’ll just be hanging out at home. I haven’t been able to do that after school in years.”

  “Good,” said Paige. “You can meet me by my locker after school and I’ll drive us to your place. I could really use the girl time.”

  I looked over at Audrey and Ava, who were both rolling their eyes, but otherwise ignoring our return to the table. “Sounds great,” I said, although I wasn’t exactly sure what girl time with Paige would even consist of. With Maya it had been laughing about our classmates’ self-indulgent and carefully curated Peeps profiles, giving each other quizzes from trashy magazines (yes, the actual printed magazines), watching Trevor Noah on the Daily Show and puzzling over which of our classmates and teachers secretly supported the Trump administration (Paige was one of our top suspects). I missed those times with her, just hanging out in one of our bedrooms listening to music and talking, and I hoped that Paige could fulfill the role of best friend as easily as Maya had, before she started acting like someone I’d never even met.

  The bell rang as I finished the last bite of my sandwich. Paige carefully repacked her lunch bag and water bottle. She glanced up at Audrey and Ava, who were already walking away from the table, and gave them a polite wave. While I might not have had much in common with her, I knew I could trust her to be loyal and honest, and aren’t those two of the most important qualities in a friend anyway?

  “Ready for English?” she asked.

  “I’m always ready for a class with Ms. Rose,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 11

  The rest of the school day went by smoothly. I told Ms. Rose about how much I had loved my first experience with the Junior Gardeners, which I could tell brightened her day. She asked what I’d thought of Mr. Brooks. “He seems great with the kids,” I said. “Firm yet relaxed. Oh, and he said I should tell you to join us sometime.”

  Ms. Rose smiled. “I just might do that,” she said. From her smirk, I gathered that she and Mr. Brooks had some history between them. Was it romantic? I felt a bit like Jane Austen’s Emma in that moment, eager to see what else might blossom in the Taft Elementary School garden, even though the two surely needed no help from a high school student.

  At the end of the day I found Paige, with whom I was acting as more of a match breaker than matchmaker, but I hoped that I was still helping her out by encouraging her to work through her issues with Tom. “You ready to go?” I asked.

  She shut her locker emphatically. “Yep!” she said, with forced excitement. “Let’s do this.”

  We walked down the hallway toward the main stairway. Up ahead I saw Matt and Maya leaning against her locker. She had her back to me, and couldn’t see me approaching. If she turns and looks at me, I thought, I’ll take the high road and smile at her. I kept my eyes glued to her back, waiting to make my move, but she never turned around, and so Paige and I just kept walking as if the two of them didn’t exist. Maybe next time, I thought.

  Paige and I turned the corner and walked down the stairs. For the first time since starting high school, I was free to do what I wanted. I was one of them, and I was leaving the building with Paige. In a 90s teen movie, I might have been sporting a complete makeover, wearing my hair down and showing off more of my body, but in reality, I didn’t look any different. I was happy to be with Paige, whom I’d begun to consider an actual friend, maybe my only friend at that point, but I’d also realized that being friends with a popular girl hadn’t changed who I was. I was still Darcy, school cleaning girl turned temporary gardener and elementary student mentor. I was still without a boyfriend or a car or leadership position, but I was starting to realize that I didn’t need those things to be happy.

  When we got to the parking lot, I couldn’t help but notice Tristan leaning against his Beemer, presumably waiting for one of his romantic conquests to meet him. I saw him do a double-take when he spotted me and Paige. Was he surprised to see me getting into her car after school? Did he think her interest in me would fizzle as his own had? I looked at him looking at us, but couldn’t decide if I wanted to smile or wave or flip him off or what, so I ended up just staring as Paige and I got into her car and drove off. “He’s eyeing you,” said Paige. “Too bad he blew it with you already.”

  “I really doubt he sees it that way.”

  Paige backed out of her spot and slowly drove past him. He flashed us a cocky nod and smile. “Eww,” said Paige. “
And if he doesn’t see it that way he should. You’re way prettier and smarter than the other girls he’s been messing around with lately.”

  “Maybe, but they’re cooler than me, and more free-spirited, I guess.”

  “I would not call that free-spirited. There’s a word for it, but it’s not kind so I won’t say it.”

  “You sound like my grandma,” I said, laughing. “But I’m glad you’re not saying it. It’s not cool to slut-shame.”

  Paige chuckled. “I know right. Like, at some point in recent history, it became worse to slut-shame than it was to act like an S-L-U-T. And I know you’re a feminist so I wasn’t about to go there with you.”

  “Aren’t you a feminist?” I asked, a little worried about what kind of person I was about to engage in girl time with.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so. I’m just not as outspoken about it as you are.”

  “Am I outspoken about it?”

  “Kind of, but in a good way.” Paige had reached the edge of the parking lot and was waiting to turn onto the road. “Remember freshman year, when we were talking about the wage gap in World History Class?

  “Oh yeah, I do.”

  “Robert Frey made some stupid comment about how men are paid more because they perform better, and corporations only employ women to get them to stop complaining. You straight up went off on him.”

  “That’s right. I totally did. I think I might have nearly blacked out from rage. I don’t even remember what I said.”

  “You told him that he makes Neanderthals look advanced, and that the only reason our planet was going up in flames was because men like him had been running it for too long.”

  “That was as a good burn, if I do say so myself.”

  “It was, and even though I totally agreed with you, I don’t know if I would have ever had the guts to tell him off in front of the whole class like that. I was glad you did it though.”

  I remembered that event with mixed emotions. After I’d unleashed my wrath on Robert, Tristan said “Damn,” from the back of the room. A few people laughed, and someone even applauded briefly. Then Robert said, “Don’t you have some floors to mop, Darcy?” And then, of course, I’d become completely deflated, like a beach ball blindly bouncing through a rocky terrain and inevitably bouncing against the prickly needle of a cactus. How had I not seen that response coming? I felt better about it now, knowing Paige admired me for it.

  “Which way do I go now?” Paige had made her way through the quiet streets that sheltered our school and was nearing the main road.

  I directed her to my house, since the route from school was different than the one from her house. When she parked on my street, she looked around as if she hadn’t yet made up her mind about getting out of the car. “We’re here,” I said. “I know it’s not Indian Hill, but I promise you’re safe.”

  “I’m just nervous about calling Tom,” she said as she turned off the engine of her car. “But I’m ready now. Let’s do it.”

  We walked into the house and passed through the living room into the kitchen. “I’d give you a tour, but pretty much everything you’d want to see is visible from here so it’s not really necessary.”

  “Where’s your room?” she asked.

  We walked a few feet down the hallway off the kitchen and through the first door on the left into my bedroom. “This is cute,” she said, taking off her backpack and plopping herself down into the cushioned swivel chair in the corner of the room that my mom had gotten me for my thirteenth birthday. “Thanks,” I said. I looked at Paige, who was looking around curiously. After a minute she stood up from the chair to inspect the photos on my dresser. “Is that your mom?” she asked, picking up one of the two of us together. It had been taken by my grandmother in Florida two-and-a-half years earlier. She and my grandpa had rented a beach house for the four us to stay in over my spring break. We had spent most of our time walking up and down the shoreline collecting shells. It was before I’d started school at East Point Prep and hadn’t a care in the world. It was the best vacation I’d ever had.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “She’s really pretty, and young.”

  “She’s going on forty,” I said. “So, I guess she is younger than most other moms we know. She was still in college when I was born, trying to finish nursing school.”

  “You’re like the Gilmore Girls,” she said. “Have you ever watched it?”

  “Yeah. My mom loves that show, mostly because she relates. I think she wishes we were more like them.”

  Paige set the frame down in its spot on my dresser. Her phone, tucked into the side pocket of her backpack, was buzzing loudly. In one swift motion she grabbed it and pulled it out. “It’s Tom,” she shouted. “He’s calling me!”

  “That’s great,” I said with genuine excitement. “I’ll just step out so you can. . .” Paige had already answered the call with a measured Hello before I could finish my sentence. She sounded calm and casual, not like someone who’d been crying about the person on the other end just hours before.

  I stepped outside of the room, closed the door and walked into the kitchen. I rummaged through the pantry and fridge for a snack, trying to make as much noise as possible to avoid the temptation to eavesdrop on Paige’s conversation. After finding a bag of potato chips, some carrots and some cottage cheese for dip, I sat down and started crunching away. I took my phone out from my sweatshirt pocket and started to open up Peeps but stopped myself. What was it about that electronic fantasy world that kept me feeling so dependent? Will this bring me happiness? I thought. Aside from my awkward run-in with Maya, I’d been having a really good day. I was feeling happy about my time at Taft Elementary School the day before and was looking forward to going back the next. I had enjoyed the work in the garden, liked getting to be around kids without being completely responsible for them, and felt optimistic about the possibility of a new friendship with Sean. And while I wasn’t happy that Paige might be breaking up with her boyfriend, I liked that I had been able to comfort and support her. And there I was, enjoying leisure time after school instead of staying after to clean, something I wouldn’t have the chance to do for long. I knew Peeps might provide some quick laughs, but then it might also remind me of Tristan’s latest fling, or of all the things there were to be angry about in the world with its tendency to let conspiracy theories and fake news spread freely. Sure, it offered its moments of usefulness (informing me about the climate school strike, for example), but also hours and hours of wasted time and feelings of isolation, and I didn’t want to risk being pulled into that and losing the new feelings of contentment I had only just attained.

  I put my phone aside and pulled my notebook out my backpack. Back in junior high, before I had my phone and a Peeps account, I’d write in my journal almost every night. The activity had become so routine for me that I had once awoken in the middle of the night, remembered I hadn’t written a journal entry before falling asleep, and decided to turn on my bedside lamp and scribble a few sentences, still half-asleep, about what I’d eaten for dinner and how much time I’d spent on my Amazon Rainforest project, which included a three-page typed report and shoebox diorama. After getting my phone at the end of eighth-grade though, the routine of analogue journaling became less and less routine, until my journals, still stacked up on the shelf of my bedroom closet, became artifacts of my pre-digital self-expression. As I sat in the kitchen, trying to think of something to do other than scroll through Peeps while waiting on Paige, I decided it was time to reinstate the old practice. I opened my notebook, flipping over the page with my nonsensical list, and wrote the date at the top of the next one. Then I began writing out all the thoughts, concerns and hopes that were entangled in my mind. Lost friendship with Maya, new friendship with Paige, Ms. Rose’s essay assignment, volunteering at Taft, meeting cute guy (because what high school journal entry would be complete without at least one reference to the author’s crush?). I noted that it was probably too soon to crush on
Sean, especially given that he likely had a girlfriend, but admitted that I’d thought about him a few times throughout the day and was hoping to get to know him better. It’s your journal, I thought to myself, honesty is essential.

  After about fifteen minutes, Paige emerged from my room, a satisfied smile on her face. “How’d it go?” I asked.

  “Great,” she said, sitting down next to me at the counter-top. “He actually called to apologize for being so aloof lately. He said he was just feeling overwhelmed with his classes. He thought he was going to flunk out and was afraid to tell me because he thought I’d think less of him, which I told him is ridiculous because I wouldn’t lose respect for him over his grades. I mean, he’s pre-med, and I know how hard that is. But anyway, he said he’s gotten some tutors and his grades are back on track now, so everything’s fine. He’s even planning to come visit next weekend so he can meet my parents.”

  “That’s wonderful!” I said, leaning in to give her a hug. “I’m happy that you got it resolved.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Sorry for being such a blubbery mess earlier.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s ok to be a blubbery mess sometimes.” I pushed the bag of potato chips her way. “Want any?”

  “I’ll just take a carrot.”

  I shrugged, reaching into the bag and pulling out a handful.

  “Okay, I’ll just take a few.” She took the bag and pulled out two or three chips, then picked up her phone, opening Peeps. “Don’t do it!” I yelled. “I’ve been trying to stay away.”