“Probably not,” said Sean. We sat there for a bit, just looking around, observing the trees and sky and building tops through the bars on the pod. After a moment we stood up from the bench and continued walking down the block toward the diner. It had an unassuming exterior, but was completely different on the inside, with the classic black and white tile floor, neon lights stretching along the top of one wall, and a long counter with a row of stools with bright red cushioned seats in front. Sean and I sat down in a booth next to a window overlooking Main Street. “I come here with my friends sometimes after school, on the days I don’t have gardening,” said Sean.
“Do you have a lot of friends?” I asked.
“I guess,” said Sean, running his fingers through his hair. “Well, I have a lot of acquaintances, people I see at parties and stuff, but only a few close friends, like people I really trust. What about you?”
“I’ve got . . .,” I squinted, feeling my face scrunch up like a bulldog’s, “a friend.”
“That’s it?” asked Sean. “Is your school that filled with assholes?”
“Well, kind of, but that’s only part of the problem. I think the other part is that I’m worried about rejection so I don’t really put myself out there.”
“Why would people reject friendship with you? I mean, I haven’t known you that long, but so far you seem pretty cool.”
“Thanks.” I shrugged, looking down at the menu, feeling suddenly like a shy Kindergartener. “I guess I feel like being the school cleaner puts me pretty low in the social hierarchy, so it’s easier if I don’t really try. It would just lead to disappointment. The last time I put myself out there, I got burned, big time.”
“Got burned by who?”
“Just this stupid guy. But he’s a popular guy, so it still sucked. And it was at the same time I stopped talking to my former best friends, so it was a rough time.”
“Well, I don’t know this guy, or your former best friend, or any of the details, but if someone passed on a chance with you, I’d say they’re an idiot.”
“He might not see it that way, but thanks.”
Our waitress, an older woman with glasses and a little paper hat, came and took our orders. We each asked for a milkshake, one strawberry and one chocolate. Sean ordered the pancake platter and I ordered the chicken and waffles. We continued talking about friends and school and the difficulty of navigating social situations while trying to stay on top of homework and extra curriculars. I told him about Paige, about how involved she is in student council and running track in the spring, and about how unlikely a friendship with her seemed until recently, given that we’d never actually spoken prior to junior year. I learned that Sean’s best friend is a guy named Tyler whom he’d known since elementary school. Tyler attends the same school as Sean, but majors in drama instead of visual art. Sean described him as funny and gregarious. “He’s the one who gets all the girls,” he said. “And I really do mean all the girls, ‘cause he doesn’t like being tied down to just one.”
“I doubt you have that much trouble getting girls either,” I said, thinking of the one in his sketchbook and in the photo with him on Peeps.
“I guess not. I do have those boyish good looks.” Sean grinned, showing off his white and perfectly aligned teeth. I couldn’t help but laugh at his display of preening.
“Here you go, lovies,” said our waitress, handing out our milkshakes and plates of syrup-covered carbs. I immediately got to work, cutting up the chicken, spreading the syrup around evenly.
“Good, right?” asked Sean as I stuffed my face, barely taking the time to breathe.
I nodded, laughing, realizing how I must have looked. “I’ll have to come here with my mom sometime,” I said, once I’d finished chewing and swallowing the food in my mouth. “She’d love this.”
“She sounds cool,” said Sean.
“She is. I guess I’m pretty lucky that way.”
“What about your dad? Is he cool too?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said.
Sean gave me a baffled look. By then, I was feeling comfortable with him, and the tale about my parents just came out without a second thought. I explained it all; my mom’s bartending job, the affair with one of her patrons, the brief involvement he had in my life, the decision to remove him from my life so as not to hurt anyone or wreak havoc on another family. Sean sat and took it all in, nodding occasionally to signal his interest in my story.
“I can’t believe I told you all that,” I said, once I’d finished explaining it all. “That’s the second time I’ve told that story recently, but I don’t usually talk about it at all.”
“Well, I appreciate being one of the few people you share it with. And besides, I think it’s fine to talk about it. Just because you don’t know him, doesn’t mean you have to pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“I guess I’ve always felt like I can’t bring it up with my mom because I’m afraid to hurt her feelings. I don’t want her to think that I’m curious about him because I feel like I’m missing out on something, like I’m not grateful for what I already have.”
“Do you want to connect with him? I mean, what if he could help you? Maybe he could pay for your school. You wouldn’t have to clean anymore. You could keep doing Junior Gardeners with me.”
I felt myself blushing. Sean wanted me around more. “Paige actually said the same thing, but I’m just not sure I want to. I mean, what if he’s broke? What if he’s, like, an alcoholic or a drug addict? Or worse, what if he’s an asshole? Then I’d just be disappointed.”
“Maybe, but then you’d at least know. It’s something to think about anyway.”
I shrugged. “I’ll probably just wait to hear from him. And if I don’t, then I guess I’m probably better off without him.”
Sean nodded. “Either way, he’d be lucky to have you in his life.”
The waitress came by to take our plates, both of which were clean, and dropped off the check. Sean slid the check toward him, peeking at the total without flipping it over, and put some bills down on top of it. “You ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded. We both stood up and walked outside. It was twilight by then, and the city nightlife scene was awakening. High heels clicked on the sidewalk and laughter boomed through the streets. “They look like they’re having fun,” said Sean as a group of twenty-somethings dressed in cocktail attire walked past.
“Well, I’m having fun too,” I said.
“You are?” he asked, sounding a little surprised.
“Yeah, aren’t you?”
He smiled and looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I am,” he said. “But I wish we had something else to do. We’re too young to go to the bars and clubs down here.”
“Just five more years,” I said.
I looked to the left to see a middle-aged man with a briefcase quickly approaching us. “Good evening,” he said with a smile, not so subtly checking me out.
“Good evening,” I said back as he walked by.
I looked at Sean, whose brow furrowed. “I can’t believe how he was looking at you. He’s old enough to be our dad.”
I laughed. “Hey, at least I’m turning heads. He wasn’t that old, was he?”
Sean nodded and laughed as we stepped away from the restaurant and started walking toward the park. As we got closer, we noticed a crowd forming on the center of the green. In front of the crowd was a stage, on which a couple of men were testing out microphones. “Oh yeah,” said Sean. “They’re doing free concerts in the park every Friday night this month. You wanna check it out?”
“Yesss,” I said excitedly.
We made our way over toward the congregation of college students and young professionals. As we waited for the music to start more and more people began to crowd around. I could feel the energy and anticipation rising as the sun continued to set. I looked over at Sean, and had the sudden realization that I’d never been to a concert before. It felt good knowing that I was experiencing that
milestone with him. “Sean,” I said, “this is my first concert.”
“For real?” he said.
I nodded. Suddenly there was the loud sound of audio feedback from the stage, and after a quick and inaudible introduction, a band consisting of a drummer, a guitarist and baas player was in full throttle. We both covered our ears, laughing. Then the vocalist came in, whining incomprehensibly into the microphone. We looked at each other in confusion. The feedback continued alongside the cacophony of instruments and screeching vocals. “This band might suck,” said Sean, putting his mouth up to my ear.
“They definitely suck,” I said.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
I nodded, and we both pushed our way through the crowd, running for the sidewalk like scared animals escaping a predator. Once we made it out safely, we both doubled over in laughter. “I’m sorry your first concert was so terrible,” said Sean, panting a bit.
“It’s ok. I guess if you want a good concert you have to pay.”
“But I thought all the best things in life were free.”
“There’s an asterisk. Live music performances don’t apply.” We started walking down the sidewalk toward the other end of the park. “Actually, you’re right about the best things in life being free,” I said. “The band sucked, but I still had fun with you, which makes up for the crappy music.”
“I had fun with you too.” Sean looked down at his feet at first, but then he looked up at my face with a warm, closed-lip smile. We kept walking until we found a bench near the outskirts of the park. It was fully dark by then. Traffic lights and car headlights twinkled along both ends of the block. “Should we head to our bus stop?” I asked.
“The busses aren’t running too often this late in the evening, but I can get us an Uber.” Sean held out his phone, showing me his Uber app.
“You have an Uber account?”
“My dad set one up for me a while ago, in case of emergencies. He knows public transportation isn’t always reliable. I’ve only used it once, so I think he’ll be cool with me using it tonight.”
I watched as he made the ride request. A few seconds later an alert popped up, telling him “Brian” was on his way to pick us up. He appeared to be a young guy with dirty-blonde hair and glasses. “Brian looks alright,” said Sean. “I’ll have him drop you off first so you don’t have to be alone in the car with him.”
“Thanks,” I said. Unfortunately, based on articles I’d read about the dangers of ridesharing, I knew his plan was solid.
Brian arrived within a few minutes, driving a silver SUV. Once Sean and I were in our seats, I gave him my address. Brian nodded and prepared his GPS. Folk music with a male singer played softly from the front speakers.
“Are you on Peeps?” asked Sean once the car was moving. He had the app open in front of him.
“Yeah, although I’ve been trying to avoid it.” I took his phone from him, typing my full name into the search bar to bring up my profile.
“Why’s that?” he asked, clicking on the connect button on my profile.
“It just bums me out sometimes, seeing all the negativity. And it was sucking up too much of my time.”
“I feel that,” said Sean. “I like your profile picture, though. It’s cute.”
It was a picture that Maya had taken of me over the summer. We were at King’s Island, a nearby amusement Park. I was standing in front of the mini-Eiffel Tower, making a peace sign and puckering my lips. I was wearing sunglasses, a striped shirt and short denim shorts, my hair pulled up on the top of my head with a scrunchie. Say VSCO girl, I remember Maya saying when she took the photo. I laughed, realizing I had mostly unintentionally been rocking that vibe.
“Thanks,” I said, taking out my phone to accept his request.
Sean tucked his phone back inside his pocket. “I can see why you’d want to stay away from it. It can be a cesspool at times. But personally, I view it as my public art portfolio. It might seem silly, but I kind of hope to make a name for myself as an artist someday.”
“I don’t think it’s silly at all. You’re really talented. And that’s a great way to get your name out there.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
We both gazed through the windows, taking in the city lights, until our driver exited the highway, entering my neighborhood.
“Here we are,” I said. “The scenic Norwood.”
“Cut your ‘hood a break,” said Sean, picking up on the sarcasm in my voice. “Norwood’s got some good spots. I mean Rookwood Commons? That’s pretty swanky.”
“Yeah, although that’s basically Hyde Park. But you’re right. It’s not bad. And at least it’s centrally located.”
Brian took a right turn off the main road, nearing my street. I was exhausted, but also the happiest I’d been in years, like a child who’d spent the day roaming the zoo or splashing in the ocean. I’d only known Sean for a couple of days, but my intuition told me that he was kind and generous and trustworthy. There was no doubt that I felt attracted to him at that point, but after what had happened with both Matt and Tristan, I was merely hoping for friendship, and felt satisfied in feeling like one was forming.
“This is me,” I announced, as Brian pulled up to my house. “Thanks for everything tonight, Sean. See you Monday?”
Sean nodded. “Good night, Darcy.”
I went inside and walked into the kitchen. On the counter were two twenty-dollar bills and a note from my mom that read: Having drinks with a work friend, shouldn’t be out very late. Here’s some money to order food. Love you and see you soon.
It was the perfect conclusion to the evening, knowing that my mother was out enjoying herself. I left the money where it was and retreated to my bedroom, eager to get to work on my journal entry for the day. I had a lot to write about.
Chapter 13
On Monday morning I got to school early. My mom had run out of coffee at home, so we left the house twenty-minutes ahead of schedule to make a Starbucks run. It was warm and breezy, so I decided to drink my Mocha outside in the courtyard. I was sitting on a bench looking over my chemistry notes in preparation for the quiz later on, when a large figure appeared next to me. I looked over to see Matt Holmes just inches away from me. I was so surprised that I jumped up a bit, splashing my mocha onto my uniform skirt and notebook.
“I’m sorry,” said Matt. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s ok,” I said, rummaging through my backpack in search of a napkin or tissue to wipe the coffee off my skirt.
“Here,” said Matt, handing me a wet nap. “I got wings after football practice last week, so I have a bunch of them if you need more.”
“I’m good.” I wiped off my uniform and sat back down. I cleared my throat. I’d never sat so close to Matt Holmes in my life. A year earlier I would have swooned, but now I was just flustered, confused, and slightly irritated. “Is there something you need?”
“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, but it seems like every time I see you, you’re with Paige. I thought now would be a good time since you’re alone.”
“Ok.” I closed my notebook and put it away. Clearly, he wanted to discuss something important.
“So, I don’t know if you realize this, but Maya feels really bad about what happened at Paige’s house last month. She told me about the situation, with you and how you had feelings for me, which I never would have known by the way, and how you wouldn’t call her back afterward.”
I felt my cheeks burn, reliving that night in my mind all over again. The feeling of uselessness during our three-way discussion, the sight of the two of them kissing in a hidden corner. And now, here was Matt, acknowledging his understanding of the embarrassment I’d felt, which I’d hoped to keep hidden from him. But of course Maya would tell him about why our friendship had deteriorated. “I don’t have those feelings for you anymore,” I said, although now that he was right next to me, it was hard to deny that there might still have been some
attraction. “It was just a crush. I’m over it.”
Matt nodded. “Anyway, Maya’s been acting differently lately. She seems kind of depressed, more withdrawn. I think she feels guilty about the way things worked out. She didn’t mean to hurt you. The thing between us just happened. It wasn’t planned at all. I think we were both really surprised by how fast we cliqued. And now, I think she really misses her best friend.”
“You mean me?” I asked with a scoff.
“Of course, you,” he said. “Before you guys were practically inseparable.”
“If she misses me then why doesn’t she just come talk to me?”
“I think because she’s scared,” he said. “She’s afraid you’ll reject her, yell at her, cuss her out in front of the whole school.”
For a moment I just sat there, staring at the Starbucks cup in my hand, twirling it around, unsure of what to say or how to feel. “Did she ask you to talk to me?” I finally asked.
“No,” said Matt. “She has no idea I’m doing this.”
“I miss her too,” I said. “But I’ve been waiting for her to approach me. And I’m not mad at her for dating you. I’m mad, or was mad, because she did something so hurtful behind my back, without talking to me about it. I just didn’t think she was capable of that.”
I looked over at Matt. He was looking down at his knees. A lock of his hair hung down, obscuring his eye. I remembered looking at him in the hallway on the first day of school, seeing that lock of hair over his eye and wanting to stroke it back. For a second, I put my hand out, ready to go for it, but then quickly put it back on my lap, hoping he didn’t notice the movement. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I never would be, and that was for the best.
He looked over at me. “I know you were hurt, but just think about it,” he said. “I think Maya really needs you right now.”
“I won’t yell at her or cuss her out,” I said, standing up and slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “You should tell her that.” I turned away and started walking toward the school entrance.
“Darcy,” called Matt.
I turned and faced him again. “Would you give Tristan another chance?”
Darcy, Defined Page 11
