by Seven Steps
“So much for being Mr. Nice Guy.”
“What can I say? I like a little mystery.”
I laughed so much my stomach hurt.
“I guess that you can take the animal out of the gentleman but you can’t take the gentlemen out of the animal,” I said. “Or something like that. What I meant to say was that men are animals but it came out wrong. Okay. Start over.”
“That was the worst metaphor that I’ve ever heard in my life. It was so bad that it literally made me want to cut my ears off.”
We burst into a fit of giggles until tears ran down our cheeks. We laughed and laughed, and when we were done with laughing, we laughed some more.
“I have to tell you, French, you are not the Girl-Zilla that I thought you were.”
“Is that what they called me? Girl-Zilla?”
“Well, not they, really. Just me.”
“Nice. I guess that my nickname for you was just as appropriate.”
“And what was that?”
“Jerky McJerkface.”
He howled in laughter. “That’s the worst name ever! Oh my god. You are banned from talking ever again.”
“It’s better than what I call Kenny Jennings.”
“What do you call him?”
“Mc-Coke-Head.”
He threw his head back and let out another laugh.
“That name is definitely worse.”
“You’re right. Your name is better. But your IQ is pretty low so you may not understand the awesomeness of it.”
“My IQ?” He was on me like a shot, his thick fingers pressing in to my side, tickling me in my most ticklish spot ever. My sides.
“My IQ is genius level, I’ll have you know,” he cried, while I wailed with laughter on the couch. “Say that I’m a genius. Say it!”
“Never!”
I could barely get the word out, I was laughing so hard.
“Say it or be ready for death by laughter.”
“No, no.” My stomach ached, my throat ached and I’d never been so thoroughly amused in my entire life.
“All right, all right!” I screamed.
His fingers stilled on my side.
I laid on the couch below him, panting, my cheeks red, my body electric. He hovered above me, ready to move in for another tickle at the earliest sign of my hesitation.
Our eyes dueled. Cole’s expression was a fluid sea of happiness and joy, then sadness and sorrow. Then something else. Something that darkened his blue eyes to nearly navy. His gaze dropped to my lips and I could barely breathe.
He was so close. So close, and yet, not close enough.
His familiarized himself with my mouth, inspecting it. Committing it to memory. Goosebumps flew up my spine. Heat pooled in my gut. My cheeks caught on fire.
What would his lips feel like against mine?
Without warning, he cleared his throat, looking at anything else in the room but me.
He climbed off me and sat back on the couch.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the shivers that raced through me. I wasn’t sure if it was from the loss of his heat or something else.
“Maybe we should, um…”
His gaze wandered over to me. One side of his mouth tilted into a half smile before stretching into a laugh filled with awkwardness and the unsaid words that hung between us.
“Well, that was weird. And it was like the second time it happened, so it was, like, double weird.”
My stomach hurt from all the butterflies that beat within it. Something sparked to life when he looked at me. Some crazy mix of joy, hope and fear. I bit my lower lip against the warring emotions. It felt like I could sit here all day, staring at him while he stared at me. But apparently, Cole had more control than I did. I guess it was all those honed social graces that came with being popular all one’s life.
He picked up his copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I pulled out my copy too, feeling very much like Hermia. Or was it Helena? Titania, perhaps? Why was my brain so foggy all of a sudden?
“Maybe we should focus on our dramatic play,” he said. “I do have one condition, though.”
“And what’s that?”
He raised a teasing eyebrow at me. “That you let me pick the title.”
I threw a pillow at him and we laughed some more. Somehow, my rotten day had just gotten a little bit brighter.
34
Jasmine and Ariel walked in a half hour after Cole left.
It had been at least a week since we’d had a girls night and I needed one bad. Not that I could tell them much about what was going on in my life, but it felt good to just have them there, eating ice cream, throwing popcorn at each other and watching The Notebook on permanent repeat. We may have not had much experience with boys but we were still true romantics at heart.
“So, did Eric propose yet?” I teased.
Ariel’s cheeks reddened and her eyes lit. Her silver spoon dipped in to her bowl, before reappearing with a glob of chocolate ice cream. She put it in her mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Spill,” Jasmine said, placing her bowl down on the bed and leaning toward Ariel. “What’s new with lover boy?”
Ariel sucked on her spoon for a few more seconds before placing the bowl on the floor and crossing her legs beneath her.
“Ladies, I think I’m in love,” she screeched.
Me and Jasmine screamed while we threw pillows at Ariel’s smiling face.
“That’s not news!” I said. “You’ve been in love with Eric for forever.”
“No. I’ve been in love with the idea of Eric forever. With his popular persona and his online persona. Now, I’m in love with him.”
“What’s the difference?” Jasmine asked.
“Because,” Ariel tipped her chin in the way she always did when she was going to lecture us, “I didn’t really know him before. Now, it’s different. There is just so much about him that’s sweet, and kind, and strong. God. I just want to eat him up!”
We screamed again and put our hands over our hearts, pretending to be scandalized.
“Why, Ariel Swimworthy, what would your father say?” Jasmine asked.
“Daddy loves him.”
Jasmine and I gawked at our red headed friend, our mouths hanging open.
“He’s met your father?” I asked.
Ariel nodded.
“When?”
“Yesterday. When he showed up at my door with flowers and chocolates and asked Daddy’s permission to sit with me on the front steps of our building and talk.”
“No way,” Jasmine gasped.
“Yes way. Daddy called him respectful.”
For Triton Swimworthy, calling someone respectful was like calling them a saint. Respect and manners were huge in Ariel’s house. Eric had scored some major points.
“So, what did you two do? Just sit on the steps and talk?”
“Until ten o’clock. Then he walked me back upstairs, thanked my father for the opportunity to talk to me-”
“He said that?” Jasmine asked.
Ariel nodded. “He walked in and said, ‘Mr. Swimworthy, thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get to know your beautiful daughter. Here is my phone number in case you ever need to get in touch with me’.” Ariel’s eyes rounded. “I’ve never seen Daddy’s mouth hang open like that. Ever.”
“That’s incredible. And so romantic!” My heart was racing just from hearing Ariel’s amazing story.
“You should have seen it. My sisters were lined up in the hallway and he introduced himself to each one of them on the way out. Then, when he told me good night, he kissed my hand. Girls, I thought that I was Juliet and he was Romeo.”
“Does he have a brother?” Jasmine asked.
Ariel fell back on to the bed, arms splayed open as if she was trying to make snow angels in my sheets.
“Then, when he got home, we texted each other all night.”
“Who knew that he
was such a gentleman?” Jasmine said.
“His grandfather is an oilman from Alabama. His father is an interpreter for the French embassy. Charm is practically running in his veins.”
“And respect,” Jasmine added.
“Yes. Respect, too. He asks a lot.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“He asks me a lot of questions. How are you feeling? How was your day? Do you like to do this? Is it okay if I kiss you? What are you thinking?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jasmine said. “Back up. He’s kissed you?”
Ariel shrugged and moved her feet around excitedly. “Well, only on the hand. But he always asks, ‘May I kiss you? Can I kiss you? Is it okay if I kiss you?’ God. I just want to write him a permission slip that says, kiss me anytime you want.”
“So, this was more than a one-time thing?” I asked.
“Whenever he sees me, he kisses my knuckles, then puts his hands over it, like the kiss is going to fly away or something. Then, when he says goodbye, he kisses my palm and closes my hand over it. I just want to drag him behind the bleachers!”
“Ariel, you have struck gold!” Jasmine said. “Respectful, nice boys with hot bodies and cute faces are very hard to find. You better marry him before he flies back to heaven with the other angels.”
I laughed out loud.
“Amen to that,” I said.
“So, when are you going to announce to the world that he’s yours?” I asked.
Ariel shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I’ve seen Ursula sniffing around him and I’m too young to go to jail for murder.”
Jasmine chuckled.
“It’s true. They’ll put your hair in corn rows and make you wear orange jumpsuits. I’m not sure that goes with your complexion.” She poked at Ariel’s chin and the three of us exploded in laughter.
Laughter so loud that we almost didn’t hear my dad knock on the door.
“Girls,” he said. He’d just gotten home from work and he looked tired. There was dirt beneath his fingernails and he smelled like hay and horses.
“You have some more visitors.”
More visitors? Who would visit us? I wasn’t expecting anyone.
He disappeared from the door and Stephanie, Mel, and Ursula stepped over the threshold, taking in my unpacked house and my barely decorated room. Mojo followed after them, growling.
What were they doing here?
“Are you lost?” Jasmine asked.
“Nope,” Mel said. “We just came to pay a visit to Bella. We figured that now that you’re popular that you’d need some friends worthy of your new status.”
“Aren’t you Dana’s friends?” Ariel asked. “Isn’t this some sort of conflict of interest?”
“Not at all.” The three girls stepped deeper in to the room. They looked around in disgust. Like they would catch a disease from the carpets or something. “With Dana on the outs socially, we thought that we’d start exploring other options and Bella’s name was the first to pop into our collective minds.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Jasmine said. “Small minds think alike.”
Stephanie narrowed her eyes at Jasmine.
“Anyway, Bella. We thought we’d come by and let you know that anytime you need anything at all, you can let us know. Consider yourself arrived.”
“Great,” Ariel said. “Now you can arrive yourself back to the strip club that you crawled out of.”
Stephanie took a step toward Ariel.
“Maybe if you had better manners, people who mattered would actually remember that you exist.”
Ariel stood and stormed forward, standing nose to nose with Stephanie.
“The people who matter to me are in this room. Minus the three of you, of course. Why don’t you run along before I decide to throw Nair in your hair?”
Stephanie gasped, then looked at me.
“Aren’t you going to reign your friend in?”
“No one reigns me in,” Ariel growled.
“That’s funny,” Ursula said. “I’ve been hearing that Eric has been reigning you in just fine. Though I’m not surprised. He’s always liked to slum it.”
The second the words left Ursula’s mouth, Jasmine and I jumped up, holding Ariel’s outstretched hands back from Ursula’s throat.
“Don’t you dare say his name!” Ariel cried.
Ursula gave her a sly smile. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s already said mine. Over and over and over again.”
“Eric would never touch a fat whore like you!”
Ursula’s eyebrows rose. “Wouldn’t he?”
In a sudden burst of strength, Ariel ripped herself out of mine and Jasmine’s hold and charged at Ursula. In record time, we grabbed her again.
Mel, Stephanie and Ursula stood back, smiling at us.
“You know, Bella, I would rethink my associates. We came here to extend our support and your red-headed beastly friend just attacks us out of nowhere. Is this what you want us to tell everyone at school tomorrow? That you associate with wild animals?”
“I’ll show you an animal!” Ariel continued to buck and shove us away, desperate to get to the girls.
I couldn’t let that happen. If Mel, Ursula and Stephanie were extending an olive branch to me, I had to take it. One, it would give me unmatched insight into Jake’s life. Maybe they could tell me if he was, indeed, involved in dealing drugs like Detective Harding thought he was. Plus, they would be able to give me valuable tips on being popular. Tips that Ariel and Jasmine didn’t have. And, if they started spreading rumors about Ariel, those rumors might reach Eric. What would he say? What would he think?
“Ariel, stop.”
Ariel’s wide eyes zeroed in on me as if I had just cursed her father.
“What?”
“Stop. Just be cool.”
“I will not be cool,” she said. “Not around them.”
“They’re just being friendly,” I said. “Can’t you just be normal about it?”
“Have you forgotten that Stephanie dunked your head in a toilet?”
I sighed.
“That was Freshman year.”
“Or that she spread that rumor that there were crabs in your hair?”
“That was sophomore year.”
“Or that they’re probably working with Dana to cover your locker with crap every morning?”
“For the record,” Stephanie said, “we had nothing to do with that.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet,” Jasmine said.
“I just want us all to get along,” I pleaded with them. “Can’t we all just be friends?”
“I can’t be friends with someone who attacks me and my friends,” Stephanie said.
“And I can’t be friends with a bulimic spaz.”
Stephanie’s face stretched in outrage and she glared at Ariel.
“Them or us, Bella,” she said, her voice dropping to lethal tones.
“Can’t we-”
She glared at me. “Them or us.”
I took in a deep breath, my eyes darting between my best friends and the girls who’d tortured me since Freshman year. I had to make a decision. A decision that would affect everyone in our school. With Kenny being Mel’s on again, off again boyfriend, I was sure that she could tell me exactly what I needed to know about Jake and his drugs. Maybe the four of us could convince Jake and Kenny to stop dealing in our school.
I, Bella French, could clean up St. Mary’s Academy once and for all.
I let out the breath and kept my eyes on the carpet, my stomach tied in knots.
“Maybe you should go,” I said.
“Ha!” Ariel cried out. “Get back out on the streets before your pimp comes back.”
“I meant you.”
I looked up, watching Ariel and Jasmine’s face squeeze in confusion.
“Us?”
“Just for tonight. Just until you cool down.”
“You are kicking us out. Your best friends? The two people that you can actually trust, for these ska
nks?”
I felt terrible, but if Stephanie, Ursula and Mel were offering an olive branch, I had to take it. It was the only way I could think of to get information about Jake. I couldn’t just let them walk out.
“I-”
“Don’t answer. We’re leaving. Come on, Jasmine. We shouldn’t stay where we’re not wanted.”
My heart sank to my feet as I watched Ariel and Jasmine put their ice cream bowls on the table and walk out of my room. They didn’t even turn around.
I’m a terrible person, I thought. I am a terrible, awful person.
But I had no choice.
Stephanie, Mel and Ursula turned to me with smiles. Smiles that, deep down in my heart, I knew were mocking me.
“Now,” Stephanie said, “let’s talk all about your new boyfriend.”
35
After Ariel and Jasmine left, Stephanie, Mel and Ursula sat on my bed and divulged all the latest gossip. It was mostly fluff and meanness. Nothing like the conversations that Ariel, Jasmine and I had, but there were some useful parts. Like how Kenny had moved on from marijuana to cocaine and mollies, and the entire school was getting onboard. After that, Mel disappeared in to the bathroom, only to reappear five minutes later, sniffing and shaking. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t peeing in there.
She sat on the floor next to me, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I wish I was dating a supplier. You’re so lucky. You’ll never have to pay for anything.”
My breath caught in my chest. My heart sped up.
Supplier? Did she mean Jake?
I wanted to ask more questions. To grill her for all she knew. But Stephanie started talking about my change in clothing choice and all the best ways to wear my hair, steering us back in to safer waters. The moment had passed.
After that, they got up and left, leaving behind promises of forever friendship and more questions than I had answers to. Questions that circled and spun in my mind until nearly nine o’clock when Dad called me in to the kitchen for dinner.
He’d insisted on grilling up two steaks. Steaks normally meant good news. That made me happy. I needed some good news today.
My mind turned to quicksand, sinking in to a hole of theories and conjectures as I sat down at the table, a steaming hunk of sirloin with a side of mashed potatoes and corn in front of me. Dad had whipped it all up in thirty minutes. Yes, the kitchen was a mess, but he didn’t complain and swear like he normally did. In fact, he seemed like he was in a pretty good mood.
