Not Just a Number: A Young Adult Contemporary Novel

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Not Just a Number: A Young Adult Contemporary Novel Page 10

by Sara Michaels


  The puffy winter jacket felt like a warm embrace.

  “It’s this stomach bug, I think. I keep getting chills.” As I spoke, I looked away, fumbling in my locker to avoid looking Ryan in the eye.

  He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. His legs were the same golden color as the skin on his face, except they were dotted with fine black hairs. Ryan wasn’t particularly athletic, but he had been blessed with great genes from his parents. His tall, muscular dad was a fireman, and probably that fireman that women swoon over. His grandfather had been a fireman too.

  Ryan came from a long line of heroes, and in my eyes, at least, he was one too, but I knew he struggled with not being as physically inclined as his paternal forebearers. Even though he didn’t regularly work out, as he had aged through high school, I’d watched him fill out, and he just naturally had a sculpted build. For his interests and temperament, though, he took after his mom. She was an actuary—a tiny blonde bombshell with a brain to boot, and a huge personality. Ryan had inherited his love for math, data, and statistics from her too. He was an amazing combination of all of his parents’ best features, although each parent would claim the wonderfulness came from the other parent. They were a cute couple.

  “Maybe you should go home and rest, Abby.” He was speaking in the kindest of tones, and my heart broke at his wasted concern. He glanced up at the hallway clock and realized he didn’t have much time. “Hey, I have to get all the way across campus, but seriously, Abby, if you aren’t feeling well, just go to the school nurse and tell them you’re going home.”

  I smiled at him as brightly as I could. “I will if I need to, I promise.”

  His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and then he was gone. I could not do that, even if I would rather be sleeping right now than at school. If I went home sick, then my deceit would be perpetuated at home and I would probably end up in a doctor’s office, which really would not do.

  I slammed my locker shut and made my way toward the restrooms. I had a few more minutes before class and wanted to use the bathroom so that I didn’t have to ask for a hall pass during class. Raising my hand for something like that would just draw more attention to me—something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

  Something bugged me about the way Ryan had looked at me. Was he starting to see through my deceptions? I knew it would just take one lie too many. I had already told so many that I had lost count. Ryan was a smart guy, and he wasn’t just going to believe me forever. I wondered what he would do if he figured it out. Would he confront me, or tell my mom?

  Kya’s words still rang in my ears, though. “Have you ever thought about Ryan, as something other than a friend?” She had said it uneasily, knowing that I might well freak out. I hadn’t because maybe, deep down, I knew what she said to be true. Was that what was behind Ryan’s lingering look? It would certainly be the lesser of the two evils. I would rather have him be mooning over me than figuring out my lies.

  Luckily my first class was just across from the restrooms because it was already almost bang-on 8:00 am when I swung the outer door to the toilets open. In the space between the outer and inner door which led to the row of cubicles, I realized that I was not alone. Pushing their way into the girls’ bathroom were Grace and another blonde girl whose name I didn’t know. I had seen them together before and knew they were very close friends. The girl was like a replica of Grace—tiny, blonde, pretty, and as close to perfect as a human being could get.

  I briefly considered turning around and heading out. At a squeeze, I could hold it until the end of class. They had likely already heard the first door reopen behind them, though, and it would just look weird if I scurried away like a frightened child. Neither of them looked back when I closed the door behind me; they were wrapped up in their conversation.

  Instead of running away, I pushed my head down, burying it into the collar of my coat, as they moved toward the basins at the end of the cubicle row. They were apparently only there to touch up their makeup. Keeping my head turned away, I avoided all eye contact and slipped into the closest cubicle.

  “So,” Grace’s friend stretched out the syllable, “has Brandon seen your prom dress yet?” The mention of his name was like a kick to the gut, especially in that context. I was suddenly nauseous and glad that I was in a toilet cubicle. Of course, I knew that Brandon and Grace would be going to prom together. That just made sense, but I still didn’t really want to be hearing about it from the horse’s mouth. I thought about blocking my ears until they had finished so that I didn’t have to hear any more, but as much as I didn’t want to hear it, I also could not stop myself from listening.

  “Oh, heck no!” Grace squealed. “That’s like bad luck or something.”

  No, that’s your wedding dress you, rocket scientist, I thought, then immediately chided myself for being so mean. It was unlike me to think or say things like that, but this situation seemed to be bringing out the worst in me.

  “He just knows what color it is so that he can make sure he has the right corsage.”

  A corsage? Did people still do that? I would never have thought of a corsage. I tried to think back to Jennifer’s prom. Had Jacob given her a corsage? I could not remember one, but maybe it was one of those things that just hadn’t stuck in my mind. Oh well, that wasn’t something I had to worry about. It wasn’t like Kya and I were going to buy each other corsages. In fact, I didn’t even know if I would bother going to the prom.

  “He is just going to die when he sees you in that dress, girl.”

  I could picture them talking to each other in the mirror as they did their makeup. Grace would be pulling a face while she expertly applied mascara, and the blonde girl seemed to love a tangerine lipstick that almost matched her fake tan.

  So mean, Abby! I thought.

  Mean, but true. I smiled to myself and thought how ridiculous it was that I was sitting on a closed toilet in a cubicle listening to my ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend talk about her drop-dead gorgeous prom dress, all the while smiling to myself like a numb-nut. I really had spiraled down deep.

  “I really hope he likes it,” Grace gushed.

  If she had been talking about any other boy in school I would have thought it sweet, but all I could feel at her words was a deep desire to look better than her. Grace was already skinny. Her boobs were bigger than mine. I could not do anything about my breast size, short of begging my mom for a breast enlargement which was never going to happen, but I could definitely do something about my weight. Maybe if I was thinner, my boobs would look bigger. It was worth a try.

  “I guess we had better get to class.” Grace's voice sounded so sad that you would think she was headed to a funeral. I mean, it was so unfair that people made them come to school and then actually attend classes too, right?

  I rolled my eyes to myself.

  As their voices faded and I heard both doors slam shut, I eventually actually used the toilet, the entire reason I had gone in there in the first place, and exited the cubicle. I wondered if they thought it strange that the person that had gone into the cubicle before them hadn’t emerged. No, they were too wrapped up in stories of how amazing they were going to look to even realize I was still in there. Maybe they hadn’t even realized anyone else was there.

  I pulled up the sleeves of my coat and washed my hands. I let the hot water run until it steamed and then pushed my hands under the stream, my hands immediately going pink. I smoothed the soap between my fingers and under my nails, wringing my hands over and over until they stung. Only then did I have the courage to look at my reflection. At first I just peered under my eyelids, a tentative glance to see if I was still who I remembered. Sadly, that fact was confirmed. I was everything Grace wasn’t, that was for sure. My puffy coat made me look even bigger and clumsier than I was, but it still hid the reality, and that was good enough. I had really been feeling cold when I had pulled the coat on, that much was true, but it also served another purpose. It hid the real me from the world. I wond
ered whether I could just stay in that coat forever.

  I thought about Jennifer twirling around in our living room in the dress that would be my prom dress soon. If it was the last thing I did, I was going to make sure that I did her proud when I put it on. I wouldn’t see that same disappointed look in her eyes again that I had seen at the bridesmaid dress fitting. Never again.

  I would do whatever I had to do to make sure that I looked just as amazing as Grace on prom night. It was going to take some doing, but if I pushed hard enough, I could do it. Running in the morning was clearly not enough, I would have to start working out after school as well. The exercise bike in the basement would finally get some use, and I could get it done before Mom got home. I would start that afternoon. I briefly wondered if the gears on the bike still squeaked the way they used to. If they did, I would have to lubricate them if I didn’t want anyone knowing I was down there in the basement exercising.

  I glanced at my wristwatch. I was already late for class. I hadn’t realized that I had been standing there formulating this new plan for so long. Luckily, my first class was English with Mrs. Peters, who really liked me and was kind to boot. I knew I could get away with walking in a bit late. She would look at me disapprovingly as she did with any student that arrived at her class late, but then her face would soften and break into a kind smile as I slid into my chair. The only problem was that now everyone’s eyes would be on me as I came in, wearing a giant puffy coat on a warm day. I briefly considered skipping class but figured I had done enough out-of-character things for one day.

  With an improved plan in mind to achieve my goals, I scrambled to get to class, burying my head in my coat collar as I entered the hallway.

  9

  The thought of my new plan had propelled me through the day despite my lack of energy and general malaise. I had always loved having a plan. It made me feel like I was on the right track and not just muddling through life. I was feeling pretty upbeat about the possibility that I would be able to meet my goals if I increased my exercise and kept my food intake to a minimum. Increasing my calorie deficit seemed the most logical way to increase my weight loss. Eat less, burn more calories—it was a simple formula, really, and I did not know why more people did not follow it.

  I had kept my coat on all day. Occasionally in the middle of a class I would start to feel warm and think about taking it off, but every time I felt too self-conscious to do so. There were at least thirty kids in a class, and there was no way I would be able to sit there without a jacket without everyone seeing me. The nerd in me had always made sure that I had taken a front seat in class too, and while that was great for schoolwork, it was a problem when you were trying to hide yourself. We did not have assigned seats in class and everyone was allowed to sit wherever they wanted, but most people sat in the same seats in each class, so it was difficult to change it up without drawing attention to yourself.

  All the clothes I owned felt wrong, and I really did feel cold. Without the jacket, I felt exposed to the world. I figured that I could be coming down with a cold. That could account for how tired I felt as well. I shrugged it off. I would sweat it off on the exercise bike as soon as I got home and then go straight to bed. Surely that would do the trick. It wasn’t even flu season, so it couldn’t be that bad.

  Despite the necessity and comfort of the coat, I still felt weird next to Ryan in his shorts and t-shirt and Kya in her yellow sundress as we started off on our walk home after school. It was another of our traditions that I would miss. If we weren’t staying for any after-school activities, the three of us always walked home together. I noticed that the trees were starting to bloom, and knew that soon the street would be lined with pink blossoms. The air would fill with the floral scent and, on weekends, mix with the wafting smoke from barbecues being held in various streets around my home.

  It was a smell that I equated with summer, and ordinarily it would make me think about pool parties and changing over to my summer wardrobe of shorts, skirts, and flip flops, but this year I felt different about summer. Soon, it would be ridiculous to wear a coat, impossible really. I could not even bring myself to think about putting on shorts and walking around like that.

  While lost in my confusion, I realized that Kya had started speaking.

  “So next week I’ve got my audition for the dance troupe at college,” she said with just a hint of trepidation in her voice. I knew she had nothing to worry about. She was one of the most talented dancers I had ever seen perform. When Kya danced, her body seemed to become one with the music and she owned the stage. She may not have been one for personal confrontations, but she had no problem taking on an entire audience. She had said herself that when she was on stage, she felt like she transformed into someone else.

  I wished I had that talent—to transform into a person completely different from who I really was. It would be a heck of a lot easier than what I was doing now.

  “You’re going to kill it, Kya,” I said, and she smiled. “Seriously, you have this audition in the bag.” I hoped that I sounded encouraging enough because it was difficult for me to verbalize how amazing her talent was.

  “Oh, yeah,” Ryan agreed enthusiastically. “Like, I don’t even know why they are making you audition. They should just give you the spot.”

  We laughed at him, but he wasn’t far off. Even at her worst, Kya was a better dancer than most. She still didn’t know whether she would be able to dance professionally, but that was her dream. If she could not, she wanted to open a dance school in Brooklyn and especially offer free classes to underprivileged kids to keep them busy and off the streets. I thought it was a noble dream and exemplified who Kya was as a person.

  With her talent for sniffing out people who had feelings for others, she might also want to consider becoming a professional matchmaker, I thought with a wry grin that I kept to myself. Her prediction of Ryan’s feelings for me had yet to bear any fruit, though, and I doubted it ever would.

  I thought that it was nice that Kya wanted to stay in Brooklyn. So often people just wanted to escape wherever they had grown up, but not Kya. She would likely see the world as a famous dancer in any case, but she would definitely always come back. At least I would know where to find her.

  For my part, I loved the place too. It was all I had ever known too. We had lived here all my life, and the thought of going off to Chicago was terrifying. How would I know where anything was? Where would I find doctors, dentists, and pharmacies? Would I like the vibe of the city? What if I hated it? I knew that my concerns were mostly ridiculous. I would find everything I needed on Google like everyone else. As much as it was possible that I would not like Chicago, there was also a good possibility that I would love it and maybe even want to move there permanently.

  I knew that I was completely overthinking the whole scenario, and after all, Ryan would be there for me to lean on if I needed someone. It wasn’t like I was going to be totally alone.

  Since the day in her room when Kya had asked me whether I could see Ryan as more than a friend, I had started to look at him differently. It was not awkward or anything, but he definitely seemed to relate to me in a different way than he did to Kya. Unfortunately, I still didn’t know if that was him worrying about my behavior recently or if it actually was that he liked me.

  Boys are so complex, I thought, and they say we are the ones that are difficult to figure out!

  “So, I guess you are going to be practicing for the rest of the week?” Ryan asked Kya.

  “Oh yes!” Kya confirmed. “You and Abby might think I’m the best, but I still have to convince a panel of judges, you know.” She winked at us.

  If it made her feel better to practice that much, then all power to her. That was how I felt about what I was doing too. It made me feel better, but everyone was trying their best to chase me off it.

  As we neared Kya’s turn off to her road, Appleton Lane, we slowed and then came to a stop. “Okay guys, be good.” She winked at me behind Ryan’
s back as she hugged him goodbye. My face flushed immediately, and I turned away, pretending to be looking at a dog across the road so that Ryan wouldn’t see my blush. Kya turned to walk away, pausing briefly to wave over her shoulder.

  We watched her go for a moment before continuing down the road that would lead us to our own houses. For a few minutes, we walked in comfortable silence. It was never awkward to just not speak around Ryan. In fact, he had once admitted that this was one of the things he liked most about me. He described how most girls were really talkative and just yakked away about stuff continuously. I remember laughing at that description because, if I was honest, it was true of a lot of the girls at our school. Ryan said that he liked that I wasn’t like that, and that if we had nothing to say, it was okay for us not to talk.

  I felt the same way. My mom and Jen were big chatters, and sometimes it became overwhelming. I often had to go up to my room to clear my head because there was so much information flying around between the two of them.

  “I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss this stuff,” Ryan said. He had been mirroring exactly what I had been thinking.

  “I was thinking the exact same thing,” I said out loud, pleased that we were on the same wavelength. “It won’t be the same without Kya.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I wish she could come with us.”

  I smiled sadly at this. That would be ideal for us, but it wouldn’t be great for Kya as the arts program she wanted to attend was here in Brooklyn. It was one of those things where if you loved someone you had to let them go.

  “That would be nice, but I guess it is totally normal for things to change and move on.” I was not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him. It was something that so many people had said to me, and I really tried to accept it as true. Maybe if I said it enough times myself, I would believe it.

 

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