Get in the Car, Jupiter

by Fisher Amelie

  Kai lazily took a bite of his food, staring at me as if I was talking about the weather and not having an outburst, then swallowed. “All right, dude. Calm down.”

  I tried to hide the smile that caused. “Why do you have to be such a dillweed?”

  “I’m not, actually. You are, though. Listen,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “get your ass up, pack your shit up, and go after Jupiter.”

  I slid my hands down my face. “How am I going to explain this crap to her?” I asked, entertaining the idea that maybe I could risk myself after all.

  The truth of the matter was Jupiter wasn’t a game to me. She never was. Kai was right when he said I was lying to myself. I was lying to myself when I watched her every move those two months of our senior year and that just watching her was all I really needed. I was lying to myself when I said yes to her coming to Seattle with me and thought being close to her would be fun while it lasted. I was lying to myself when I watched Almost Famous every day after work over the summer so I could watch Penny Lane and somehow feel close to Jupiter. I was lying to myself when I took the bet with Milo and thought it was just to see what she tasted like and that was all. I’m done lying.

  Kai interrupted my thoughts. “You walk up to her. You say, ‘Jupiter, I lok you alawt. I want to have your babies.’”

  “Shut up.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know, jackass?” he shouted.

  “You don’t have a single suggestion? You’re useless!”

  “Please, you hobo.”

  I sighed. “I’ve got a long car ride to Seattle. Maybe I’ll think of something then.”

  “Good idea, mold muncher,” Kai said.

  I packed up all my crap, kissed my aunt goodbye, hugged my uncle, Bear, and stupid Milo, and Kai walked me down to his dad’s garage.

  “She’s going to get there a week earlier than everyone else, and I don’t think they’ll let her stay at the dorms yet.” I looked at my cousin. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, Kai.”

  “You’re wrong again,” he said.

  “Will you stop saying that! It’s getting old.”

  He laughed. “It’s true, though. You do know what you’re doing. You’re just scared of it.”

  “I really like her, way more than I ever liked Jessica. I-I think I love her a little. It would really suck if she screwed me over, not going to lie.”

  Kai shoved me with his shoulder. “For someone who digs that girl as much as you do, you sure don’t know jack shit about her.” I shook my head at him. “Seriously, Jupiter is a fly chick. I mean, she is a little dorky for my taste, but she’s perfect for you. She’s goofy in that genuinely charming sort of way. Smart. Loyal. Really nice. Plus, she has a killer bod.”

  “Yes to all of that.”

  “And I can tell she really likes you too.”

  “Not as much as I like her, though, right? That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid I’ll fall deeper in love with her than she will with me because that’s my MO and she’ll be like, Peace out, I just realized I dig some other dude.”

  “Damn, you really are some sort of something. Get your crap together, Brandon! Don’t let your past affect your future and you’ll be all right. Just chill out.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I know.”

  We reached Mike’s garage and they’d fixed all the damage that’d been done to my car. Mike said he wouldn’t tell my mom as long as Rosie was okay with that. I hadn’t gotten a telephone call from Mom yelling at me, so I supposed everything was all good.

  The key to the trunk was a little tough to turn, but I figured I could oil that out. I stuffed my crap into the back of the car and closed it. I fished a pair of vintage-looking blue-tinted sunglasses, something that reminded me of Penny Lane, out of my pocket. “I found these at a gas station all the way down in Florida and was working up the nerve to give them to her.”

  “They’d look good on her.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m hoping they might open up a line of communication.”

  Kai slap-hugged me before I got into my car, starting up the engine.

  “She purrs like a kitten,” he yelled.

  I smiled. “Let’s hope she makes good time,” I yelled back through an open window. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be. And soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jupiter

  After some serious sweet-talking, I somehow convinced the school to let me into Haggett Hall early. I had to stay in a hotel the first night while they got it ready, which ate up a huge chunk of money, but they gave me a single dorm, which rocked socks! It only took me two hours to unpack my case, since I hadn’t really brought much, but I had a feeling it would eventually fill up with stuff as that’s how life usually goes.

  Although the building was a little dated, it was still infinitely better than back home. I didn’t realize what having an average home, well, average for seventy-five hundred other students like myself, would do to my insides but that was the point, wasn’t it? University of Washington was a clean slate for me. No one would know about my place back in Florida. No one would have to know anything about me that I didn’t want them to. Do I not want people to know about the people I love, though?

  It was with that sudden thought I realized I was no longer embarrassed by my silly family, nor that I cared what anyone thought about me anymore. Watching Ezra, and sometimes even Kai, showed me that ninety-nine percent of being cool was owning what you loved and not giving a damn what people thought. When you show you don’t care, people start to accept what you are. It’s crazy to think about, but it’s true.

  I dug through a drawer at the desk that held the laptop Frankie gave me and found the only album of pictures I’d brought with me, then proceeded to tack random images of my family, my house, and my friends with me and Frankie, all over the board against the desk backing.

  I studied a picture of Frankie and me, then one of myself and Mercury, and felt sick to my stomach. I missed them so much. I grabbed a handful of quarters, locked my door, and studied the key on my way down to the pay phones. Having my own place felt so strange. I was going to live alone, in a strange, foreign place, and the only person I knew there shattered my heart in a million pieces in Chicago.

  I fought back the tears, refusing to let them fall. I needed to be strong for myself. I wrapped my cardigan tighter around my arms, feeling the nip of fall already and beginning to wonder what the hell I was thinking going to a school in the northwest.

  I slipped four quarters into the old, dilapidated-looking pay phone and clicked out my home phone number. It rang and rang and rang but no one answered. I allowed three tears to slip down my cheeks but stopped myself there. I hung up the phone and the machine ate my quarters. Two more tears came, but I refused to allow any more. I stuck another dollar worth of quarters into the slot and dialed Frank.

  She picked up on the second ring.

  “Frankie’s House of Frankfurters!” she greeted.

  “Frank?” I sobbed into the phone.

  “Oh, cheese and crackers! Jupiter! What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  I mumbled something unintelligible, trying to suck back tears, only they didn’t care and came anyway.

  “Honey,” she interrupted, “I literally don’t have a clue what you’re saying. Take a deep breath.”

  I did as I was told. “I don’t have a phone.”

  “I know. You told me.”

  “Right,” I remembered. “I’m in Seattle.”

  “That was fast. You weren’t supposed to be there for a few days.”

  I began to sob again. Frankie waited for me to collect myself.

  “Please deposit fifty cents,” I heard over the receiver.

  I stuck another dollar and two quarters in the coin slot.

  “Ezra is an arsehole.”

  Frankie paused then harumphed.

  “He is!”

  “Okay,” she said, “how?”

  “His cousin bet tha
t he could get me in the sack by the end of our Chicago visit.”

  “That guy is the arsehole.”

  I hitched a breath. “And Ezra bet that he could seal the deal before his cousin could.”

  Frankie paused for several long seconds. “That doesn’t sound like Ezra, Jupiter.”

  “Well, believe it. It happened.”

  Frankie’s bed squeaked as if she’d been lying down then leapt up. “Did Ezra try to explain himself?”

  “What? No! I wasn’t going to stick around there to listen to his sorry excuses!”

  Frankie took a deep breath. “Okay, well, I can understand that.” But I could tell that wasn’t all she wanted to say.

  “Spit it out, Frank.”

  “Well,” she hesitantly sang, “I wouldn’t go jumping to conclusions just yet.” I scoffed. “Listen, listen, listen. I’m just saying boys do a lot of stupid crap and almost none of it they mean to do. They’re a lot of talk.”

  “Frank!”

  “Listen, I’m just saying, if he comes around, hear what he has to say. If he doesn’t have a plausible excuse, then kick his ass to the curb, babe.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You!” I said. “Willing to give a boy the benefit of the doubt while he tried to explain himself for something that is pretty skeevy.”

  “I know. Trust me, I’m the last person I thought who’d be saying this, but I know Ezra Brandon and he’s a lot of things, but skeevy boy is not one of them.”

  I sniffled. “I’m so mad at him, though, that I don’t even want to listen to what he has to say.”

  “I get it. So let him stew in his own guilt for a few days before hearing him out, just promise me you’ll hear him out, at least.”

  I paused, unwilling to concede. Finally, I sighed. “Fine.”

  “Good. I love you, baby butter billy goat.”

  “Love you too, wittle woolly wombat.”

  She snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

  “Please, billy goat? They always look like they’ve smoked a bunch of weed!”

  “Whatever! At least billy goats are cute!”

  I acted offended. “Excuse me? Baby wombats are friggin adorable!”

  “Fine. Bye. I love you.”

  “Bye. Love you too.”

  I hung up the phone and swiped my palms beneath my eyes. I didn’t want to cry again for the rest of the day and promised myself I wouldn’t. I decided to head back up to my dorm to grab my bag. I needed a few things for the room that I hadn’t anticipated. Like, a mop and broom? The room had tile in it and I suspected it’d been swept, but it definitely had not been cleaned. I also wanted to buy a rug because I couldn’t imagine putting my feet on cold tile in the dead of winter.

  I would have looked up the nearest thrift store on my phone, but that wasn’t going to happen for painfully obvious and really inconvenient reasons. Instead, I tried getting directions the old-fashioned way. By talking to a person. Gasp! I know.

  I walked around the campus, half familiarizing myself, half enjoying the walk, and stumbled across a man in a blazer with elbow patches. I took a shot in the dark.

  “Professor!” I shouted, and he turned around. Score!

  “Sorry, I’m looking for a thrift store around here. Would you know where I could find one?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Just head that way down the path. You’ll hit Fifteenth. Look for Forty-Third then walk two blocks until you get to University. There should be a thrift-type store there, I think.”

  “Thanks!” I told him with a smile and set on my way.

  There was a thrift store on University named the Nifty Thrifty. It had this old-school sign, probably from the fifties or so, and it was so.freaking.cool.! When I opened the door, it had a recorded chime that rang out, “You go, girl!” and that made me laugh, and then for some reason, also think of Ezra so I started to cry, and then I started to laugh again at my own idiocy.

  “Are you okay?” a clerk asked, a witness to my Kathy Bates in Misery moment, no doubt.

  I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes dry. “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.”

  I grabbed a shopping cart from the five they had available and started perusing the quirky, narrow aisles barely big enough to fit one cart. Since Ezra hadn’t let me pay my part in gas, I had a little bit of money left over in my budget, even after my bus fare and the hotel stay. I felt the tears begin again at the thought of his generosity and cursed myself. Steeling myself yet again, I pushed the cart forward. I had no intention of spending every dollar I had left from the savings, but I did intend to make my dorm as comfortable as possible. I needed it to feel like home or I was never going to last.

  There was a large rainbow-colored braided rag rug for seven dollars, and I thought it was great. I rolled it up and put it in my cart, along with an ancient Paramount desk phone circa 1930s because I had no intention of calling people on the pay phone anymore, and my dorm had a phone outlet. I asked the clerk I’d wigged out earlier in front of if I could plug it into theirs to see if it worked and it did. I snatched that up for four bucks along with a framed poster of Kurt Cobain smoking a cigarette that someone had taken a set of watercolors to, to make their own, I guess. It was pretty rad.

  I was browsing the framed images when my eye spotted one of a UFO print that made me laugh. It was only three bucks so I threw that in. I got a huge black-and-white medallion tapestry I planned on tacking up in lieu of wallpaper for the wall next to my bed. They even had a mop still in its original box, though a little beat up, but I didn’t care, it was still a new mop. They didn’t have a broom, but I figured I could get one later.

  I scored a big blue velvet curtain for the window with a rod, an industrial copper-esque floor lamp I had the perfect corner for since the light in the room was pretty crappy, and a couple more little tchotchkes. I didn’t spend more than a hundred dollars, which I was particularly proud of, but I also didn’t think about how I was going to get all my stuff back to Haggett.

  Fortunately for me, the store’s owner, Aida, did free deliveries. I asked if she’d deliver me too, to which she laughed and told me it was no problem. She was a bad ace. When she dropped my goods and me off at my dorm, I thanked her and dragged everything to my room. I set to work right away to distract myself from how lonely I felt and how empty all the other dorm rooms were. The first thing I did after I mopped the floor was hook the phone up and call Frankie just to get the number that popped up on her phone. Then I called my family again and this time they picked up. Mercury was out, but I talked to both Mom and Dad and tried to act as cheery as possible, finishing by giving them my dorm number. Trying to explain what happened to my cell would have been difficult, so I lied and told them I misplaced it. Eventually I knew I would have to replace it, but I had no idea when or how, really.

  I washed the curtain, tapestry, and braid rug in three washers and dryers since no one was around to complain and around five that night, when I was done putting up all my new-to-me stuff, I looked around the room and for the first time since Chicago felt somewhat secure. I knew it was only a matter of time before the dorm really felt like home. I needed to tough it out.

  I took a deep breath, lugged my shower stuff to the showers, and proceeded to clean the day off. In the cold, cubed alcove, with the flimsy curtain, and room-temperature water, I felt what happened between Ezra and me bubble up to the surface, but this time I couldn’t stop it. It was too powerful to convince so I let myself feel the pain that needed to be felt.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  There was this little vented window above my bed behind a slim metal door. I was sure it would have been handy during the day, but at night, when the temperatures dropped to levels I was definitely not accustomed to, the thin sheet and blanket I’d brought from home wouldn’t cut it, and the cloth tapestry was pretty but useless. Kind of like Kai. Aww, Kai. My eyes burned. Dang it!

  Other than the blanket issue, I was pretty happy with
my little cocoon room. I dragged myself out of my bed and over to my little sink to brush my teeth. To kill time, I got my hair did. I don’t know if it really counts when you do the hair yourself, but I thought it did ’cause I was a fly gal. I played around with my makeup a little. I dropped some sick beats on my laptop, jumped and danced around my room a bit, then decided I’d had enough and needed to go to a grocery store for a broom and a few food staples like peanut butter and bottled water. I made a mental note to get one of those grocery carrier things on wheels that little old blue-haired ladies loved so I could shop without regret and dignity.

  I wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts, because I was grasping at summer with everything in me, and threw on my boots along with my super worn T-shirt with the phrase TEA DRINKERS UNITE! It had a picture of two hands with their pinkies up. I tossed a floor-length sweater on, a scarf around my neck as well as my wide-brim fedora, and opened the door.

  “Get busy livin’,” I told the hallway.

  Over the next few days, I was on my own. All too often I found myself wondering if Ezra was already in town, what he was doing, where his dorm was, if I’d ever run into him on campus. I called home and Frankie every day. I really missed my phone, as did Frankie. We lamented often how inconvenient it was not to be able to text each other any time we wanted to.

  Eventually the dorms started to fill up and the noise comforted me as well as gave me anxiety. It was so weird knowing I’d be living with the strangers surrounding me for an entire year. Since I’d been there for so long already, I was familiar with where everything was, which proved useful in making new friends.