by Sarah Hill
It was Saturday morning and she had so many stories swirling around in her head she needed some time to sort them all out. Progress was slow because she also had other things on her mind. There was a party tonight and Maysen invited both Maddie and herself to tag along. Excitement had initially bubbled up and made her giddy, though she’d hidden it well. As the party drew nearer though, she getting nervous. She figured Maysen only invited them to make up for the whole Rebecca fiasco and Rylie hated the pity invite. Rebecca would aslo be there to make sure Rylie felt as uncomfortable as possible. Maysen was the only one who had a car, so they wouldn’t be able to leave if they ended up miserable. She wasn’t going to ask him to leave if he was having fun. Maddie’s face lit up when he’d asked them if they’d like to join him, which made it even harder for Rylie to say no. She also had this story nagging in the back of her mind and she wanted to get it sorted out and written down before she lost any details. It was hard to make everyone happy sometimes. Deep down she wanted to be popular and sought out by others, but also enjoyed - and needed her solitude. She could think without all the noise and distractions of the world.
Standing up, she grabbed her notebook and flip-flops. She made her way off the silage pile and headed towards her house. For now, she would focus on her story. If the words were flowing when it came time to leave, she would opt to stay home. But if her mind went dry before the party, she would go. She walked around the barn that neighbored the silage pits, and saw Maysen’s old powder blue Ford truck turn down the gravel dirt road that led to her home. What was he doing here so early? They had an entire day before the party started. Now she’d never get her story ideas sorted out. Slipping her flip-flops onto her bare feet, Rylie began a slow jog. She lost sight of his beat-up tailgate behind the Russian Thistles that grew along the field between her house and Del’s, so she sped up. Maysen was closing his door as she ran up the last bit of the driveway. He must’ve heard her coming because he turned towards her and smiled.
“Hey there, gorgeous! What are you doing out this early?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
“Pondering a new story. What are you doing here so early?” she countered, grabbing his baseball cap from his head and ruffling his thick curls.
Wrinkling his nose, he stepped away from her. “Rylie!” he exclaimed. “You were in the silage pits again, weren’t you?” He snatched his hat back from her, pursing his lips as he pulled it back onto his head. Rylie loved the way his curly hair peeked out from beneath the rim.
“I like it there. I can think clearly.”
“Why aren’t you using the tree house, where you don’t have to deal with that stench??” He went through the gate and headed towards her house. It wasn’t anything pretty to look at, just an old pink trailer house. It had a small, uncovered porch in the back where she liked to sit and listen to the sounds of the creek traveling up to her back door.
Rylie followed Maysen through the front door into the living room, which was sparsely furnished with an old sagging green couch and wood coffee table. The coffee table had a couple Modelo beer bottles strewn across it and an ashtray full of cigarette butts. Last night was one of those rare nights her mother had come home. She hadn’t been alone, but at least she came home and even brought pizza for dinner. Pizza was a rare treat because it was one thing Del refused to make.
Maysen stopped and looked down at the coffee table with his hands on his hips. A heavy look shadowed his handsome face. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking at her with a slight smile. “So, you ready for tonight?” he asked. “You know you’re going to have to shower to get that stink off you, right?”
“I’m aware, jerk.” Rylie plopped down onto the sofa. She looked up at him and said, “And you’re here this early because…?”
Maysen sat down next to her, leaning forward and clasping his hands as he stared out the window. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when no words came out.
“Mayse? Is something wrong?” Rylie asked, her brows drawing together as she placed a hand on his arm. “Are you having second thoughts about taking us with you?”
“No, I want you to come.”
“Then, what’s wrong? You look so serious.”
“What do you think about Kevin?” he asked, as if he were forcing the words out. He turned to look her in the eyes, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Kevin? As in Motzy?”
Maysen jerked his head into a nod.
Rylie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really ever think about him, but I suppose he seems nice. Why?”
“He was asking about you. The party is at his house tonight.”
“Asking about me? What for?”
“He asked if you were dating anyone and what your type was,” Maysen said, looking over at her, his face unreadable.
“What did you say?”
“I told him you weren’t seeing anyone and I’d ask you what your type was because I didn’t really know. We’ve never talked about stuff like that.”
Rylie nodded as she stared past Maysen at the door.
“Well?”
Coming out of the reverie she had fallen into, Rylie looked over at Maysen. “Well, what?”
“Do you like him?”
Standing up, Rylie grabbed the beer bottles and headed toward the kitchen. “I don’t know him, Maysen. How can I like someone I don’t even know?”
Maysen got up from the couch and followed her into the kitchen. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway and watched as she tidied up the counter.
“You don’t have to know someone to think they’re attractive.”
Rylie dropped the paper plates they’d used for dinner last night into the garbage and scowled at him. “I know that,” she said. “You didn’t ask if I thought he was attractive. You asked me if I liked him.”
Rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, Maysen huffed. “You knew what I meant.”
“Yes, okay?” Rylie picked up the pile of silverware laying on the counter and dropped them into the sink, allowing them to clank noisily against the porcelain bottom. “He’s attractive,” she said, before turning around and walking back into the living room.
Turning to watch her, Maysen narrowed his eyes and said, “Would you go out with him if he asked?”
“Do you want me to? Is that what this is about? Are you trying to do your buddy a favor or something?”
“Not at all.”
“Not at all…,” Rylie said. She raised her hands in the air and shrugged. She was starting to feel frazzled and was trying her best to stay calm.
“I’m not doing my buddy a favor.”
“It sure feels like it. Look, I better go shower so I don’t embarrass you in front of your friends.” She felt hot tears fill her eyes. Refusing to cry in front of Maysen, she turned and headed down the hallway to her room. Slamming the door, she turned the lock and threw herself face first onto the bed.
“Rylie, come on. Don’t be like that. You know I don’t care what they think about you. You’re my best friend. I could care less about other people’s opinions.” Maysen’s voice was muffled as it swam through her door. “I only asked about Kevin because I thought you’d be excited. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
Sitting up, Rylie threw her pillow at the door and yelled, “I didn’t need the added pressure. Go home, Maysen!”
“Will you come? I’m sorry. I don’t know what for, but I’m sorry!”
Jumping up off her bed she opened the door and glared at him. “What do you mean you don’t know what for?”
Maysen backed up, raised his hands in the air and said, “All I did was ask a question. You’re getting bent out of shape for no reason.”
Rage boiled through her veins as she opened her mouth. “Bent out of shape? You…,” she stopped, unsure of what she was trying to say.
Maysen raised his eyebrows.
Dropping her hands to her side in surrender, Rylie turned and sat back down on her bed. “I guess you didn’t really do any
thing,” she said wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry for being such a girl.”
Sitting down next to her, Maysen smiled and said, “I have a sister. I’m used to it. I’m sorry I made you mad, but it was unintentional.”
Rylie looked him in the eyes and frowned. “No, I’m sorry Mayse. I’m not sure what my problem is, I think I was just embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed of what?”
“The thought of a guy asking you about me. It’s absurd and made me feel a little embarrassed. I have no other word for it.”
“You’re embarrassed a guy likes you?” Maysen frowned.
“Look at me. I’m a poor, white trash, trailer living, creek urchin. No guy is going to ever look twice at me. Unless of course, they’re playing a cruel high school prank or they’re one of the drunkards Momma brings home. When you said Kevin liked me, it made me feel like the punchline of some wiseass story.” She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and looked over at him with a smile. Maysen had an odd look on his face as he stared at her with his mouth open
“Do you honestly see yourself that way?”
Wrinkling her forehead, she said, “Umm, yeah. The whole school sees me that way. Except for you and Maddie, I hope.” She let out a nervous laugh.
Maysen stood up and pulled her up with him, dragging her down the narrow hallway to the bathroom. Turning the light on he pushed her in front of him so she was facing the mirror and said, “Look at you. You’re beautiful, Rylie. You aren’t the grubby little girl you were in elementary school.”
“Hey!”
“I mean you comb your hair and care about how you look now. You used to look like you’d been raised in the wild, before Del stepped in. Aside from the smell,” he said, wrinkling his nose and adding, “you’re easy to look at and there’s more than just Kevin Motzy noticing you these days.”
Rylie raised her eyebrows as she considered the image in the mirror. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun and she hadn’t put any makeup on this morning. She’d gotten up and thrown on a sweatshirt and shorts before walking up to the silage pits in the warmth of the morning sun.
“I’m easy to look at? What does that even mean?” she asked, turning from the mirror and pushing past Maysen to walk out of the bathroom. “You’re the only boy who talks to me Maysen and I’m surprised that hasn’t put a scarlet letter on your back.”
He turned to follow her as she entered her bedroom. “I know people have given you a hard time in the past, but I’m telling you Rylie, this year guys have taken notice of you. I hear about it all the time.” He paused, then said, “it’s kind of annoying.”
She plopped onto her bed, smirking as she said, “I’m sorry my beauty causes you such strife.” She rolled her eyes and laid back against her pillows.
“Laugh all you want, but it’s true.”
“Whatever. I don’t care either way. They’ve made me feel small so many times over the years, I wouldn’t date a single one of them. Even if what you’re saying is true.”
Shaking his head, Maysen laid across the bottom of her bed and shoved her legs out of his way. “So, have you thought about what you’re going to wear tonight so you can change your mind twenty times like every other girl?”
“No. Should I? It’s just a party. I know I haven’t been to one before, but I didn’t think it required dressing up.” She frowned at him.
“It doesn’t, but most girls see it as an opportunity to impress a guy they like or tease a guy they know has a crush on them.”
“Like I said, I don’t care about what they think anymore.”
Maysen narrowed his eyes at her and asked, “There isn’t one guy you’d like to impress? Not one?”
Rylie looked at him and shook her head. “Nope.” Tossing a pillow at his head, she asked, “What about you? Any girls you want to impress?”
“Maybe.”
An odd feeling rolled through Rylie and her stomach dropped. “Who?” she blurted, unable to stop herself.
Maysen, who was tracing his finger along the swirling designs of her blanket, looked up and said, “Doesn’t matter.”
“Maysen, who is it? Please say it’s not Rebecca.”
“What do you take me for?” he asked, scowling at her.
“You’re always nice to her.”
“I’m nice to everyone,” he said, pushing himself up off the bed.
“So, it’s not her?” Rylie pressed.
He looked at her like he didn’t know her and shook his head. “I gotta go, Rylie. I’ll pick you up around five-thirty.” He walked out of her room and Rylie listened to his footsteps get farther away. Her stomach felt sick as she slowly leaned back against her pillows. She started thinking about all the girls at school and wondered which one had caught his attention. She heard footsteps coming back down the hallway and looked toward the door. Maysen peeked back around the doorway at her and said, “Take a shower!”
She laughed and threw her stuffed frog at him as he dodged it and disappeared back down the hall.
Rylie spent a couple hours working on the story that had been echoing in the back of her mind before her nerves began to distract her and she had to take a break. Fighting the urge to get ready for the party at noon, she put her notebook away and decided to feed the growl coming from her stomach.
Rylie didn’t like to take advantage of Del’s warm heart too often. She tried to stick to eating only dinners with her and Norm. Shoving last night’s pizza and a ketchup bottle aside in the fridge she found the Ziploc bag that held the bologna she’d been enjoying for lunch the past week. Three slices left. Sighing, she grabbed a slice and pulled the red casing off and made four slice marks across it. She took a pan out of the cupboard and set it on the stove. Turning on the burner, she tossed it into the pan. “Fried bologna it is.” She dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster and then grabbed the mustard from the fridge. Leaning against the stove, she let her thoughts roam over the nights’ possibilities as she listened to the sizzle issuing from the pan. She wished Maysen hadn’t said anything about Kevin. She was already anxious about her first party. Now she had the added pressure of acting nonchalant. How was she going to pull this off without making herself look like an even bigger loser than she already was? The toaster popped, pulling her attention back into the kitchen. It threw her bread into the air, causing it to land haphazardly back into its slots. She made her sandwich and went to sit in the living room. Staring out the window as she ate, she watched a blackbird on the barbed wire fence that surrounded the field separating her house from Del’s. It’s robotic-like moves made her smile. Birds were so graceful soaring through the air, but perched in a tree or on a fence, their movements looked so uneven and rough. She imagined it’s what she looked like when she was with people she didn’t feel comfortable around. Conspicuous. Her movements felt frozen and less fluid because it always felt like people were watching and judging her. Maybe those little birds could feel the eyes of people watching them too. Rylie realized that if she had been born one of God’s creatures, she would like to have been a bird. Like a bird in flight, she too felt most comfortable when she was alone.
It was just before five when Rylie, now sitting inside the treehouse, heard the rumble of Maysen’s old truck engine pulling up to her house. He was early, she thought, as she laid her notebook and pen on the wood floor and stood up to look over the railing. She could see Maysen making his way up to her front door.
“I’m in the treehouse!” she hollered through the tree limbs.
Maysen’s head jerked in her direction. He ran across the rickety wood platform that led to her door and heaved himself over the railing. He did it so effortlessly, gliding through the air and landing in a run as soon as his feet hit the ground. She wished she could be so cool, so confident.
Maysen climbed the up the ladder and stopped when he made it to the door. “What are you doing up here? I thought you’d be hysterical by now.”
Frowning she sat back down against the mountain of pillows they’
d slowly added over the years. “Hysterical? Why?”
He scooped her notebook from the wood plank floor as he sat next her and started thumbing through it. “I figured you’d still be trying to decide what to wear. That’s why I’m a little early. Thought I’d have to rescue you from a pile of discarded clothes.”
“You’re so dumb,” she said, grabbing the notebook from him. “I told you I didn’t care what they thought.” She smiled, ignoring the fact that over the past three hours she had changed seven times before forcing herself to get out of the house and take refuge in their treehouse.
Maysen’s eyes looked her over. She decided to be herself and stick with jeans and an old gray Coors Light t-shirt her mom brought home from the bar a couple years back. She figured it was a party and the t-shirt seemed like the right attire. She wasn’t going to wear some stupid dress and pretend to be someone she wasn’t and she wouldn’t admit she had initially put on “the stupid dress”.
Maysen smiled and with a slight nod and said, “You look nice.”
“Do I pass as a normal teen? “
“No. You’ll never be normal. It doesn’t matter what you wear.”
Slugging his arm, she laughed and said, “I know, but I had to try for your sake.”
Reaching over, he took her notebook from her hands and started looking through it again. “Get very far?” he asked, studying the pages.
“A good start. I couldn’t focus earlier. Once I climbed up here things became clearer.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
Rylie watched his lips move as he read what she had written and a warmth covered her. Leaning against his shoulder she said, “You look nice too.”
He let out a small laugh and continued to read as if he hadn’t heard her. She relaxed against the pillows and stared up at the roof while he read. Maysen had always been one of her biggest supporters. He read every story she’d written, as she wrote it. He was never patient enough to wait until she was finished. In elementary school, they were just short little stories of magic and pixies that she was now embarrassed to say she wrote. Maysen loved every one of them, though. Refusing to let her throw them away, he built a little wooden box to put her stories in. He burned the words Rylie’s story box on the lid and placed a lock on it, to which only he had the key. Just in case she got any ideas of trying to destroy them. Now, in high school, she wrote a novel sized story and was starting her second. She knew she still had a long way to go before she wrote something the world would want to read, but she was willing to put in the work for something she loved so much.