by Justin Sayre
“I just don’t want things to be weird now that I made a total ass out of myself with Ducks.” Charlie smiles, trying to apologize.
“Who is making it weird? You’re the one that’s disappearing,” I snap back, probably a bit too hard, but Charlie just smiles a little smile. “You need to chill about it. You like him, and he likes you. Why don’t you just try it out and see what happens?”
“He does? Did he tell you that?” Charlie perks up a little.
“He didn’t tell you? Aren’t you guys talking anymore?” I ask, really shocked at the both of them for being so stupid, but not surprised.
“No. I haven’t really texted. I don’t know what else to say. I just . . .”
And I stop him with a “Nope,” because that’s apparently my thing today. “You guys like each other.” Charlie hates it when I try to do his mom’s accent and gives me a look. “The rest you’ll figure out or you won’t, but give yourself a chance. It makes me mad that you two can’t just be happy for a minute.”
“You don’t have to get mad about it, Elle,” Charlie pushes back.
“I do. And you do too. It’s time to get mad about being silly like this. Why hide out from what you want, when what you want wants you too? You’re out here making yourself miserable because you think some boy doesn’t like you? Well, first off, he does, all you have to do is text.” I hit his arm on this part, just to make sure he’s getting it. “You need to show up, Char. You’re a great guy. You’re scared, and I get it. But who isn’t? I am. All the time. But I’m here. Showing up.”
“Don’t you have Hebrew school today?” Charlie asks.
“I thought coming over here was more important.” I smile.
“Or were you just avoiding the boy you like?” Charlie smirks back, hitting my arm this time. He’s quiet a lot, but when he does talk he usually nails it.
“It’s not just that, Char. I also had to get out of a dress-slash-bra lesson from Sophie.” I laugh.
“So we’re both dropping out, is that it?” Charlie laughs.
“Probably. But at least we’re doing it together.” I laugh back.
“All right. Am I calling Ducks, or are we playing Call of Duty?” Charlie laughs, and I can’t help myself but laugh too.
“We can call a little later. He’s probably just getting home. Give him a minute.” I smile at Charlie.
“You got a thousand excuses, don’t you?” Charlie grins.
“And I still don’t have a dress.” I laugh. “But I have the quickest fingers in Brooklyn.”
We need a break. Or at least I do. We’re both hiding out, and maybe that’s what we need. Maybe it’s not the best way to handle it. But maybe we also just need a little time. Time to talk and laugh and hit each other for being so stupid. Time to tell each other about our crushes and just be happy with them for a minute, before we talk to them again and ruin it all. I tell Charlie about Noah’s eyes, and Charlie tells me about Ducks’s dimples. We kill a lot of stuff and talk before Charlie’s mom calls us down for dinner. We can text them both after.
It’s a simple night, and maybe that’s what both of us needed before things get a lot more complicated. They’re about to. We both know it, but we’re happy for the laughs and the aliens and the food and the company.
So much comes from a Hey.
Chapter 19
There’s a fog of how much trouble I’m in when I walk through the door. Hannah hugs me harder than usual, thinking she might not get the chance again. I texted Dad that I was at Charlie’s, but I guess I left out the part where I was skipping Hebrew school a week and a half before my bat mitzvah. Rosalinda is getting Hannah ready for bed by the time I get home, and even she knows I’m in trouble. Rosalinda doesn’t ask me for help with Hannah, thinking maybe she’ll be guilty by association. I don’t get it, and neither does Hannah, who screams and fights all the way up the stairs. It’s a good forty minutes before Rosalinda finally closes the door on Hannah and leaves her to toss it out.
“Did you eat?” Rosalinda asks when we’re back in the kitchen.
“Yes,” I answer, sort of looking down, because it’s that weird place of knowing you’re in trouble and you can’t really tell which adults are on your side or your parents’. I can never really tell with Rosalinda anyway.
“That’s good,” Rosalinda says, turning on the TV. “You find a dress yet?”
“No, not yet,” I answer, but I know she knows this. My mom just talked to me about it this morning. “I don’t know that I really want to wear a dress.”
“What do you want to wear?” Rosalinda asks.
“Pants? A jacket?” I sort of shrug. It’s the first time I’ve ever said this, and maybe the first time I’ve thought it, but hearing the words, I know they sound truer than I knew.
“Then wear that,” Rosalinda says without looking away from the TV. We don’t talk much after that. She’s watching the Real Housewives of Somewhere and I’m trying not to when Mom flies through the door with shopping bags full of papers. She’s on the phone, signaling to us both that Rosalinda can go, but I should stay where I am because we need to talk. Rosalinda grabs her coat and purse to leave while Mom is still on the phone. I sit there waiting for my doom.
When she finally hangs up, she starts right in on me. “I went and picked up the place cards and the thank-you notes. You’re going to have so much work ahead of you,” Mom says with a smile, throwing the bags down on the counter and asking if Hannah’s already in bed, which should be obvious because if she were awake, she’d have already tackled her. I tell her she is, and wait for the big talking-to, but it doesn’t come. I don’t think she knows about me skipping Hebrew school, so Dad didn’t tell her. I guess I should feel relieved that I’m not in trouble at the moment, but it’s a little more complicated than that. If Dad didn’t tell her, then he isn’t talking to her, and that feels a lot worse.
Mom takes a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and opens it and asks me if I’m ready for my Bubbe Brunch. “She’s all excited about it. She called me today.”
“Yes, I guess,” I answer. “I guess I don’t get what the big deal is.” I do, but I’m mad.
“It’s a very big deal. Bubbe’s very serious about it.”
“So, I just go, and I can talk with her and what, I can ask her anything?”
“That’s a very simplistic way of looking at it. And you’re not simple, Ellie. What’s going on?” she says, coming up to the island and putting down her water.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to ask her. I don’t want to know anything.”
“You have it all figured out? Lucky you.” Mom laughs. “Your grandmother is a wise and generous woman. Brilliant, really, and I don’t see why there’s even a moment’s hesitation in going.”
“I want to go. You’re not listening to me,” I answer, probably a little harsher than I should, especially considering that any minute Dad could walk through the door and I’ll be in deeper trouble. I try to calm the whole thing down a little bit. “I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to ask. Or even what I’m supposed to know going into it. I mean, can I just have a minute to not be sure?”
“Elle, I think you’re overthinking this,” she responds, raising her eyebrows like she knows I’m wrong, but she’s going to let me do whatever it is I want to anyway, and that just makes me furious. Doesn’t she hear me asking for help? Doesn’t she get the fact that I need her?
“I’m not,” I almost spit out. “I want to take it seriously, because I know how serious it is. I won’t have an opportunity like this again.”
“You will. You can always talk to me about anything,” she shoots back.
“No, I can’t. You’re never here,” I reply, wishing that I would just stop. It’s not that it’s not true or that it’s even not what I want to say, but I don’t want to fight with her.
“I’m wo
rking, Ellen,” she says back to me in a way that I know I’m in for more of a discussion than I want to have. “I’m saving lives, and that means something.”
“Who’s saying it doesn’t?” I say a little louder than I would have liked. I feel like I’m being sunk into an argument that neither of us wants to have. “I’m not saying what you do isn’t important.”
“But you need a mother, and I’m a lousy one,” Mom replies, going back to the refrigerator for another water, or maybe just to get away from me.
“I didn’t say that!” I yell back at her. “You never listen to me.”
“I am listening to you now, Ellen,” she says, slamming the refrigerator door. When she turns around, I can see just how upset this whole thing has already made her. It’s only going to get worse, I know how fights like this go between me and my mom. We don’t usually fight, but when we do, we go in for the kill, even when I don’t think either one of us really wants to finish the other off.
“I was just asking what I should ask Bubbe. I just wanted some help to understand.”
“Understand what? What is so tough for you at the moment?”
She spits it out, like she’s asking me to fight back. It’s a little wave of a comment that begs me to bring it. So I do.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m getting bat mitzvahed in a week and a half, I still don’t have a dress, and school, and Ducks just came out.”
“Ducks did what?” she asks, a little shocked, and then out of nowhere, she starts to soften, and looks at me like she’s sad for me. “Is that what has you so upset?”
“What?” I ask, still angry.
“Well, I know you two are close. Did you have feelings for him?”
“Are you nuts?” I yell back. “No. He’s my friend. That’s it.”
“All right, Ellen. You don’t have to yell about it,” she says, pulling away from me.
“Yes, I do, because it’s the only way you hear me. I don’t have feelings for Ducks. He’s not my type, and I knew he was gay before he did. You just want to fill in the blanks so you don’t have to actually ask me what’s going on.”
“So tell me what’s going on,” Mom asks me, shortly and quietly.
“You tell me. Are you getting a divorce?” I push out the words. And the whole room pops. It’s like the bubble we were in, and all the things that were swirling on its surface, has just exploded around us and drenched us in their goo. Now this fight is never going to end. I see the softness that Mom started in with totally disappearing. She’s ready to attack back, and I don’t know if I can handle it.
“Why would you say that?” she says, trying to keep her voice down, holding her yell in the grip of her back teeth.
“You fight all the time. You’re never here, and when you are I don’t think you want to be.”
“So it’s all my fault. Do you get upset at your father like this?” she asks, angrier than I think she wants to be, but she’s just following this conversation right off the cliff. “I work hard, and I like the work I do. It’s important work, Ellen.”
“Who’s saying it isn’t? But that’s not all!” I yell back. I’m so loud, and I hate being like this, but in the moment I can’t think of any other way. “You’re not here. You’re not here for me and you’re not here for Hannah. She’s getting fit for implants, and you’re not even here to ask her what she wants.”
“All of a sudden you’re concerned about Hannah?”
“I’m always concerned about Hannah. Always. When she’s in trouble or scared or worried about the sounds coming out of your bedroom, she doesn’t run to you. She runs to me.”
“She does?”
“Every night. She’s in my bed and she’s holding on to me, because I’m the only one besides probably Rosalinda that she can hold on to.” I’m yelling now, totally. There’s no way out and it’s not even the fight I wanted to have, but it’s having me.
“I didn’t know.” My mother stops. I know she’s about to swing back with something, but she stops. “We’re not getting a divorce.”
“Then what?”
“I’ve been offered a job in Cleveland.” She sighs. It’s so hard to hear, because I know how much she wants to be happy about this, but now, in this moment, it’s been ruined. And I’ve done the ruining.
“So you’re just leaving us all?” I ask.
“No.” My mother sighs again. “We were talking about how to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“We’re moving to Cleveland. After you finish school this year. It’s the reason we’re pushing the implants for Hannah. She might have an easier time adjusting to a new school.”
We are both quiet after that. Too much is in the air, and there’s too much to really yell about. And cry about. I don’t say anything more after that. Or if I do, I don’t remember it.
Mom and I hug for a minute. A long, deep, muscley hug that feels more like a pause than an end. I go up to my room and when I’m alone, I start to cry. I cry so hard that I have trouble breathing. I lie on my bed, and trying to be quiet, I put half my pillow in my mouth. I don’t want anyone to hear me. She doesn’t, but still, she knows. I hear the door open, and in comes my little sister. She’s smiling and open armed and crashes into my back. She knows she can hold on to me, and vice versa. Tonight might be a lot more vice versa than usual.
She keeps moving my hair and my tears off my face with the palms of her little hands and asking me what’s wrong. She even starts to cry, seeing me so upset. I don’t know what to say to her, so I lie and say I got in trouble about Hebrew school. She hugs me harder and says everything will be all right.
We turn out the light and lie there for a long time. I keep trying to keep it together for Hannah at least, staring at the ceiling, I can’t sleep, and I just feel worse. Hannah snuggles up to me, the same way she does almost every night. It’s good to have her, and I understand a lot of why she comes to me. It’s nicer to be afraid together. I can’t get to sleep for a long while, thinking about what this all means, stressing and worrying and wondering. Just as I’m about to drop off, my door opens, and Mom’s there.
“Hannah’s with you?” Mom asks. She’s been upset too, I can see it on her face.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to close my eyes.
“Good,” she says, almost starting to cry again, but she closes the door before either one of us can cry in front of each other again. We’ve both had enough for one night.
Chapter 20
“Ellen, I feel like you’re not paying attention to what I’m saying,” Ducks says as we’re in the lunch line, and he’s right. He just doesn’t know why he’s right. He probably thinks it’s tater tots, but I can’t even pay attention to them. That’s how upset I am. I’m so mad and confused and almost scared that there are moments where I don’t think I can understand when people are talking to me. I’m just zoning out to my own panic. I’m leaving. This will be one of my last lunches. One of the last talks with Ducks. What am I going to do then? What the hell am I going to do in Cleveland?
“Do you want me to get extra tots?” Ducks asks, grabbing two trays for us. He’s so great like that. It’s a simple and sweet thing and in all the panic it seems so lovely. I look at him sadly, almost like I miss him even though he’s right in front of me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, putting a tray in my hand.
“Yeah. I’m just in my head. There’s so much to do with the bat mitzvah.”
“But it’s a big party! Isn’t that supposed to be fun?” Ducks says.
“Well, that’s after. I have to memorize all this Hebrew and sing it. Then I have to make a speech.”
“Are you serious?” Ducks asks, more freaked out than I am. I hadn’t really thought about any of it. Maybe I should be as freaked as he is.
“Yes. It’ll be fine though.” I smile and grab a milk. “Get extra tots for me.”
<
br /> We find seats on the far side of the cafeteria. Ducks is talking my ear off about Charlie. They’re texting again, and Ducks is super excited but he’s also freaking out. Ducks is always also freaking out about something. It’s strange for a minute, but with all the other stress, it’s almost sweet to see. He’s talking to me about where they should go, and would I come with them.
“Doesn’t that ruin it?” I laugh a little. I start eating my tater tots, which are still the best things in the world. I wonder if they have anything like this in Cleveland. When I think of that, I almost can’t help it and I know how totally stupid this sounds, but I start to tear up a little. Not just for the tater tots, I mean, I love them, but I don’t love them. I’m not a crazy person, but tell that to Ducks.
“Okay, seriously, what is going on with you?” Ducks says, putting his hands flat on the table, almost like he’s ready to jump it and tackle me into telling him.
“I just think it’s so nice about you and Charlie.” I smile. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the total truth. There’s only so much I can handle at lunch on a Thursday. Ducks smiles back at me, and he’s about to say more when we both stop dead. Allegra is standing at the end of the table.
“Rabbi Jessica was so pissed at you.” Allegra smirks at me. “And so was Noah.”
“Oooooh Noooooaaaaaaah,” Ducks squeals at me. Maybe I won’t miss him that much.
“I had things to do, Allegra,” I reply. I know exactly what’s she’s trying to do, and that’s not going down today. I’m allowed to not like her and not want to bring her to Charlie’s and she can think she’s getting me into trouble or that she’s making my life awful, but she doesn’t have that power at all. “I will talk to Rabbi Jessica. And I’ve already been texting with Noah, thanks.”
“Oooooh texting,” Ducks squeals again.
“Well, I just think it’s, like, rude to blow people off,” Allegra hits back and, I think, knowing that she has nothing left to say, she leaves in a huff to go and sit with the few mindless idiot girls who still think she’s a big deal.