“Another chance at what?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly. Dating? Hanging out?”
I laughed. “I don’t know what he told you, but he’s the one who rejected me. Yeah, Paige’s party was just full of delights.”
Matt shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he regrets that now. The thing is, he was kind of already involved with another girl when that happened, but now it looks like they’re done, and he’s open to dating other people again. He didn’t like hurting your feelings. I know that.”
“Well, I’ll believe it when I hear it from him. And what are you anyway? The assholes of East Point PR rep?” I didn’t wait to hear his reaction, and instead turned to walk inside, this time without turning back. I felt a sense of victory as I walked the halls toward homeroom, but at the same time felt shaken and nervous, as if I’d just left a high-stress job interview. Had I really just discussed some of my most intimate relationships with Matt Holmes, someone I barely knew and had always admired from afar? At least I’d kept my pride and composure.
I went to the back row of seats as usual, walking by Tristan, who gave me a coy wave that I acknowledged with a mild head tilt. I wondered if Matt was right about him feeling bad for blowing me off. Had he just burned his bridges with every other girl and assumed I was desperate enough to give him another chance? I had to admit, there was something about his goofy and sometimes cocky demeanor that I felt oddly infatuated with. What was it about the bad boys that always had the good girls like me so hooked? This isn’t Grease, I told myself, and you’re not Olivia Newton John. After sitting down, I returned to my chemistry notes. Saponification was more important than the motivations of either Matt or Tristan, at least for now.
“Hey girl,” said Paige, sitting down next to me, removing her ear buds.
“Hey,” I said. Everything was as it should have been. So then why do I feel so off?
I filled Paige in on the conversation I’d had with Matt during lunch. We’d diverted from the usual seating arrangement and were sitting at a small round table in the far corner of the cafeteria, far from any other parties involved.
“Were you surprised that he came to you?” she asked, pushing around her salad with her fork to find the smallest possible bite.
“Yes! When I saw him, I jumped up and spilled my coffee like an idiot.” I scooted my chair closer to her and pointed out the stain on my skirt.
“That should come out,” she said, running her fingers across it. “Just spray some Shout on it before you put it in the wash.”
“Paige, I’m not worried about the stain. What do you think I should do?”
“About Maya?”
“Well, yeah.”
“It sounds like she wants you to feel guilty now, even though she’s the one who tossed your friendship away after being left alone with a cute boy for like ten minutes.”
“Yes, you have a point, but Matt said Maya didn’t know he was talking to me. I don’t think it was about guilt. I think he’s just worried about her. I want her to know that she screwed up, but I don’t know if I want her feeling depressed.”
Paige sighed and took another small bite of her salad. “It’s your call, Darcy,” she said after swallowing. “If it were me, I’d stand my ground, but maybe I’m a cold-hearted bitch.”
“You’re not a cold-hearted bitch.”
Paige shrugged. “I have my moments, but this isn’t about me. You have to decide what you want, and if that’s forgiving Maya, then I’ll support you on that.”
“Thanks,” I said. I wasn’t sure at that point if I would talk to Maya or wait for her to come to me, but I was relieved to know that Paige wouldn’t judge me for extending the olive branch. The thought of losing another close friend was scarier than the thought of being rejected by every guy in the school.
“But if you and Maya get close again, just promise you won’t ditch me, ok?”
“Paige,” I said. I leaned in and gave her a quick hug, knowing she didn’t like them to linger too long. “You’ve become my best friend over the last few weeks. If Maya and I do become friends again, it isn’t going to change us.”
“Good,” said Paige with a smirk. “Because I really don’t want to go back to sitting with those bitches.” She gestured toward a table behind us, and I didn’t have to turn around to see who they were.
I smiled, taking a huge bite of Paige’s salad and shoving it into my mouth.
“Hey,” she yelled.
“Well, you’re not eating it,” I said with my mouth full.
“We still have three minutes.”
“Then eat it,” I said, handing her the fork.
“You better not be sick.” She stabbed the largest chunk of lettuce, smothered it in dressing and cheese, and crammed it into her mouth.
“Yessss. I’ve been dying to see you eat like an actual human.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “You gave me no choice.”
“That’s why I’m your best friend.” I finished the last bite of my chicken salad sandwich and crumpled up the paper. I watched Paige eat her salad more heartily than before, basking in the gratification of how far I’d come thus far in my junior year. A few weeks ago, it had taken all of my courage to strike up a conversation with Paige after English class, and now here we were, eating lunch together like a couple of old ladies who’d known each other for years. If I hadn’t offered to clean up after her party then I might not have lost my friendship with Maya or become entangled with Tristan, but I also wouldn’t have become friends with Paige. With Paige, I’d begun to feel more confident, like I could achieve whatever I wanted to work toward, like I was worthy of it. With me, she was more relaxed, less focused on reputation, and freer to be herself. It was a match made in friendship heaven, and one that I wouldn’t let go of without a fight.
“Shall we go discuss some Julia Alvarez?” asked Paige, standing up with her tray.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.
At the end of the school day, I went to my locker as usual, collecting the books I needed for homework and packing up my bag. I looked down at the other end of the hall to see Paige walking toward the West Wing stairwell doors. “Bye, Darce,” she yelled with a little wave. I blew her a kiss, then shut and locked my locker.
I turned to the other side, where Maya and Matt stood by his locker. Matt looked up and met my gaze. Then he leaned in toward Maya, whispered something into her ear and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning toward the main staircase. Maya turned to face me. She had a worried look on her face, like she’d just been told she was taking the SATs the next day and wouldn’t have any time to prepare. I walked toward her, stopping about an arm’s length away. She looked at me, then looked down at her feet. I walked over here, I thought. Now it’s your turn to make a move. I pursed my lips, rocking back and forth on my feet, waiting for her to say something, anything.
“Hi,” she said after a moment.
“Hi,” I said. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Darcy,” she said after another pause. “I’m sorry about what happened at the party. And I’m sorry we’ve gone so long without talking. This. . .,” she moved her hands out toward me and then back to her chest for emphasis, “shouldn’t be so hard.”
“I know,” I said. “And I forgive you.” She looked up at me, her face softening in relief. “And I want you to know that I don’t have feelings for Matt anymore. I think it was just a phase I needed to grow out of. I’m just hurt that you had no reservations about kissing a guy you knew I liked, after telling me that I should take a chance with him. It felt so humiliating.”
“I know. I know,” said Maya, looking at her feet again. “Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it. It all just happened so fast. He wanted to show me the wine cellar, because it was quieter in there, and we were having a difficult time hearing each other with all the noise everyone else was making, but I swear I didn’t plan on doing anything like that. It just happened, and honestly, I don’t think those wine cooler
s helped one bit.” She smirked. I knew that she had meant for that last part to be funny, but I wasn’t quite ready to laugh with her yet. “When you didn’t return my calls, I just assumed that you didn’t want to talk to me, so I just left it at that, but I should’ve sucked it up and apologized in person.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You should have.” I had ten minutes before I needed to catch my bus for Gardening Club. There was still so much to say, so much to figure out, but it would have to wait.
“I’m sorry,” she looked back up at me. “I just hope that we can become friends again. Even if I’m just like a side friend and not a best friend, I’ll take what I can get.”
I chuckled in spite of myself. “I hope so too,” I said.
“So, I noticed you’re not cleaning after school anymore.”
I nodded. “I got a new gig, gardening with elementary kids. But it’s temporary.”
“That sounds really cool. I’m glad you get to have some fun for a change.”
“Yeah. It is fun.” I took my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket to check the time, a bad habit I indulge about every minute when I’m anxious or nervous about being late. I’d just received a message from Sean. Looking cloudy, he said. Hope we don’t get rained out.
I smiled, eager to reply and to get to the school. After such a strange day, it was refreshing to hear from him. I could only hope that the weather would hold out. I looked up at Maya, who was looking at me expectantly. “I actually need to get going now,” I said. “My bus is coming soon.”
“Oh,” said Maya. She sounded disappointed, like she’d thought our conversation was going to continue over coffee from The Corner Café, the place she’d always wished I could walk to with her after school.
“We’ll talk again soon,” I said. I started to walk away, then turned around, wanting to leave the conversation on a positive note. “And by the way, you and Matt do seem like a good couple, so I think everything turned out the way it was supposed to.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. She tucked her wavy hair behind her right ear and slammed her locker shut. “I’m glad we squashed our beef.”
“Me too,” I said. Suddenly, I felt that feeling of relief and accomplishment that you experience after completing a daunting task that you’ve imagined as unbearable. Write book report for German: Check! Make up with Maya: Check! It had been doable, and maybe even slightly enjoyable. Our joint account of trust might have been depleted, and I knew that she would need to make a shit ton of deposits to restore it, but I also knew that I never wanted to let a crush on a boy come between me and a close friend again. Ever.
I rushed down the stairwell and outside through the main doors. I saw the clouds that Sean had mentioned. They were dark and foreboding, looking as though they would unleash their wrath at any second. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. But just behind the clouds were rays of sunshine, pushing back like those dependable superheroes in every action movie ever made. I grabbed my phone to reply to Sean. I think we’re good.
Chapter 14
“Today is the day, Darcy,” said Ms. Rose. English class had just ended and I was packing up my bag and waving to Paige, who was already darting off to her next period.
The day happened to be our last day of Junior Gardener’s Club. The plants had pretty much all been harvested, and our first freeze of the season would be coming any day. Is that what Ms. Rose was referring to? Then I remembered the message from Mr. Brooks that I’d given to her after my first day. “You’re coming?” I exclaimed.
Ms. Rose nodded, holding up a black gym bag. “I’ve got my sneakers and outdoor work clothes in here. Would you like to ride over with me?”
I hesitated. Ms. Rose was my favorite teacher, but the thought of a twenty-minute car ride with her seemed intimidating. What would we talk about? Would she grill me on my interpretation of The Bean Trees? (Which I had been enjoying but didn’t want to be quizzed on before having more time to reflect on the important passages that I’d highlighted). Would she attempt a casual conversation about art or politics that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with because I wasn’t cultured enough? Ultimately, I knew it would be rude not to accept her offer without a valid reason. “Sure,” I said, my voice wavering. “That would be great.”
“Great!” she said. “I’m sooo excited!” But something about her face made me question the veracity of that statement. She shoved the gym bag under her desk and placed her hands on her hips, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes with a large breath.
I looked at her in confusion, wondering if I should say anything else before awkwardly leaving the room, until she spoke again. “Actually, I’m pretty nervous,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “I really don’t know anything about gardening, and I’m used to teenagers, not little kids. But you’ll be there, and you can show me the ropes, right?”
“Right!” I said quickly, eager to reassure her. “The kids are great. They’ll love you. And the gardening stuff is pretty simple. Today’s actually the last day in the garden until spring, so we’ll mostly just be preparing everything for winter. Pulling out the plants, putting them into compost, cleaning up and gathering all the supplies.”
“Ok” she said, relaxing her stance a little. “I think I can handle that.”
Still, I sensed some apprehension in her voice. Students from the next period were coming into the classroom, and I was starting to find myself in the way as they moved around me to get to their desks. “It’ll be fun,” I said, inching toward the door. “I’m really stoked that you’re coming.”
“That’s just what I needed to hear.”
“See you soon,” I said as I stepped out of the classroom.
“Meet me in the faculty parking lot after school,” she called out. I poked my head back inside and gave a thumps-up to confirm our plan, then dashed down the hall for German.
I sat down in my usual spot, right in the middle of the classroom. Matt, who was sitting a couple of rows over from me, was chatting with a girl named Gabby, who sat in the seat next to him. Was he flirting with her? I decided not to worry about it. He is allowed to talk to people, I reminded myself. In the minute before German class started, I took my phone out from the front pocket of my backpack and texted Sean. My English teacher is coming today!
I found Ms. Rose leaning against her sage green Prius. She had already changed into her gardening clothes: a pair of khaki colored- cargo pants with elastic ankles and a dark green tee-shirt. I, too, had changed into my black yoga pants, grey tee shirt and dark blue zip-up hoodie. “I love your car,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said, opening her door. “It’s a plug-in hybrid. Hop on in.”
Ms. Rose docked her phone and opened up her GPS. “I hope parking won’t be too arduous down there.”
“I don’t drive, but I have noticed spots near the school before, so I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”
“Oh, great.” She looked over at me and smiled. “So, you normally take a bus?”
“Yep. It’s not bad, but riding with you is obviously superior.”
Ms. Rose giggled. “Well, you haven’t seen my driving yet.”
“Oh,” I said, laughing nervously.
“I’m teasing,” she said after letting her joke sink in for a moment. “I actually have an impeccable driving record. Never been in an accident. Never gotten a ticket. You’re in good hands.”
“Isn’t that the slogan of one of those insurance companies? You could be their spokesperson.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Would I be the insurer or the insured?”
I thought for a moment, trying to come up with a witty reply, but didn’t get anywhere. “You could probably do both,” I said, finally.
Surprisingly, Ms. Rose laughed, a legitimate laugh. I loosened up some, feeling more at ease. More and more I’d been realizing that my mental struggle to always conjure the perfect thing to say was only holding me back. I was good enough just being myself, no matter who I was talking to.
Much to my relief, there was no discussion of class related topics on the way to the school. Instead, Ms. Rose asked me to tell her about how the volunteer job was going. I told her all about it: the puppy-dog like Kindergarteners and first-graders, the less innocent but still mostly sweet second, third and fourth-graders, and the too-cool-for-school fifth and sixth- graders, who enjoyed gardening more than they wanted to let on. I told her about helping the little ones with the watering and harvesting, and about providing encouragement and support to the older ones, and about the importance of getting them to talk to you, asking them about their day and listening to their stories of trouble at school or at home. I told her about making sure they all have the chance to eat a healthy snack, even if there isn’t that much to harvest from the garden (Mr. Brooks always has back-up food), since some of the kids really rely on meals they get from school. I also told her about how awesome Mr. Brooks is, and about how effortless he makes his job look, and how all the kids, even the “bad ones,” generally respect his authority without too much opposition.
“Yeah, he has that effect on people,” said Ms. Rose. “I did some student teaching with him a while back, when we were both just finishing school, and I could tell then that he was going to be a phenomenal teacher.”
Ms. Rose was approaching the school. “There’s a spot,” I said, pointing to an open space on the street on the side of the building near the lunchroom doors. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her about Mr. Brooks. Did you guys date? Are you dating now? If not, do you think that maybe you should be? But I stifled my curiosity, or really nosiness, knowing I couldn’t pry into the private life of my teacher.
We stepped out of the car and I led the way towards the front of the building, where we both signed in with Mrs. Walker. “Lovely to see you, Darcy,” she said as we approached her desk. “And you must be Ms. Rose,” she said with a coy smile.
“I am.” Ms. Rose signed her name in the guestbook, returning Mrs. Walker’s smile.
Darcy, Defined Page 12
