Parallel Parking

by Natalie Standiford

  “Put it on, Audrey,” Russell said. “You should always buckle up whenever you get into a car, no matter how fast it’s going.”

  Audrey buckled her seat belt. “I’m going to make you give me your new velvet jacket,” Audrey said. “If you don’t, I’ll sue you. I’ve got whiplash.”

  Mads bristled. She’d just bought the cutest brown velvet shrunken blazer. She knew Audrey had her eye on it. “Go ahead, sue me. You’re not getting that jacket. And I’m never letting you borrow it, either.”

  “Dad, can I sue her? I think I’m going to have to wear one of those neck brace things.”

  “If you sue her, you sue me,” Russell said. He was a lawyer, so he knew about those things. “So no, you can’t sue her.”

  “Did you think he’d say yes?” Mads asked. “’Go ahead and take her for every penny she’s got’?”

  “I want that jacket.”

  “Girls, can we get back to work here?” Russell said. “Audrey, quiet back there, or you don’t get ice cream.”

  “What—?”

  Russell put a finger to his lips, shushing her and trying to get her to believe he meant business. Mads knew there was no way he would deny his beloved younger child ice cream.

  “Okay, Mads. You ready to take a turn?”

  “Ready.”

  Mads practiced right and left turns. She practiced backing up and saw Audrey crossing herself. When she drove over a curb, Audrey covered her eyes in terror. Mads knocked over a trash can while vertical parking, causing Audrey to scream. The longer the practice session went on, the sloppier Mads’ driving became. Audrey was making her crazy. She could feel her father seething with frustration in the seat beside her.

  “Concentrate, Mads. You’re not focusing.”

  “Why don’t I just crash the car into a tree and put us all out of our misery?” Mads said.

  “No! She’ll really do it. I don’t want to die!” Audrey cried.

  “I think we’ve had enough for today,” Russell said, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ll take over from here.”

  He drove them to Harvey’s Carry-out for ice cream cones. When they got home, Mads’ mother smiled and said, “I had such a productive afternoon. How’d you all do?”

  No one answered. Russell, Mads, and Audrey scattered to their respective rooms and shut the doors behind them.

  “Mads, no!” Stephen snapped. “You can’t do a three-point turn in six points. It’s not the Star of David turn. It’s a three-point turn.”

  “I don’t see why I can’t do whatever I need to to get the job done,” Mads said. “As long as the car gets turned around somehow.”

  Another driver’s ed class had come and gone, and Mads had driven Mustache Mitchell to tear a few strands off his face. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t uncoordinated. She was a good dancer, passable in gym, excellent in art, got good grades in almost every other subject. So why did she have so much trouble with driving? It seemed to take her twice as long as everyone else to catch on to it.

  So she had asked Stephen for help. Which was looking like a bad idea. Anything was better than another torture session with her father—or so she’d thought. But once locked in a car with a student driver, Stephen was turning into Russell before her eyes.

  Three-point turns had given her trouble in the last class, so Stephen borrowed the driver’s ed cones and went to the school parking lot to help her with them. A three-point turn was supposed to turn the car around 180 degrees in a narrow space, like a dead-end road. Mads needed at least six moves to get the car around, and she knocked over every cone while she did it.

  “The thing is, Mads,” Stephen said in a controlled, calm voice she found a little scary, “on your driving test you’re going to have to do it in only three turns. Once you have your license, you can do it in a hundred turns if you want. If you want to drive everybody crazy. But not when I’m in the car with you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mads said. “You’re making me nervous. I can tell that you’re about to blow, and I keep waiting for the explosion. Why don’t you just get it over with?”

  “You want me to blow?” Stephen asked, his voice still level.

  “Not if you’re not going to… but if you are going to, then do it!”

  “Aaargh!” Stephen opened the car door, got out, slammed the door shut, and stalked across the parking lot. He talked to himself and stamped his feet. Mads watched him nervously, wondering what he was saying. Maybe he was pretending to yell at her—things he was too chicken to say to her face. And, honestly, she didn’t want to hear them to her face. She was sensitive to criticism.

  He walked back to the car, taking deep breaths, and got in.

  “I’m better now,” he said. “I think.”

  They sat in the car, side by side, the motor running. Mads was afraid to say or do anything. She knew she’d flub the next driving maneuver she tried, whatever it might be, and he’d be ready to explode again.

  “You want to try the turn again?” Stephen asked.

  “Not really,” Mads said.

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  Silence.

  I need to change the subject, Mads thought. Cut the tension. Put the pressure on him for a change.

  Something had been on her mind. Sean. Singing at Autumn’s party. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, the way he’d held the mike and danced around… .

  But Sean wasn’t her boyfriend. Stephen was.

  “Hey, Stephen,” she said. “How come you wouldn’t sing at Autumn’s party?”

  Her question obviously caught him off guard. “I-I already told you,” he said uncomfortably.

  “Are you really that shy? About singing, I mean?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “But how come?”

  “I don’t know, Mads. I’m just not a good singer. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

  “But lots of people can’t sing, and that doesn’t stop them from doing it in public,” Mads said. “Look at karaoke bars. Or even TV.”

  “I know,” Stephen said. “It’s just not me.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I bet you’re a pretty good singer,” Mads said.

  “I’m really not.”

  “Better than you think you are.”

  “I stink.”

  “Prove it.”

  “No.”

  “Come on,” Mads said. “Singing is one of the most fun things in life, and you’re missing it! It doesn’t matter how good you are. It just feels good. Try it.”

  “Mads, don’t.”

  “We’re sitting in a car in the middle of an empty parking lot,” Mads said. “You can sing as loudly as you like, and no one will hear you. What have you got to lose? Give me one good reason you shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Yes, you do. What songs do you know?”

  “I don’t know any songs.”

  “Yes, you do. Everybody knows at least one song. Do you know ‘My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean’?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know ‘Three Times a Lady’?”

  “Ick. No.”

  “Do you know ‘Jingle Bells’? You must know ‘Jingle Bells.’”

  “I don’t want to sing ‘Jingle Bells’ in the middle of spring.”

  “All right, you tell me. What song do you know?”

  Stephen hesitated. There was a song on the tip of his tongue, and he wanted to sing it—Mads could tell. She held back, knowing that to press him too hard just then might mean losing the moment.

  “I do kind of know one song,” he said. “You know that scarecrow song from The Wizard of Oz?”

  “’If I Only Had a Brain’?” Mads said. “I love that song. I know it by heart. Audrey watches the movie about once a week. She wants to play Dorothy someday.”

  “My father used to sing it around the house when I was little,” Stephen said. His parents were divorced, a
nd he didn’t see his father much anymore. “So whenever I watched the movie, I would pay special attention to that song.”

  “So sing it!” Mads said.

  “No. I’ll ruin it.”

  “I want to hear it.” Mads put a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. Deep down he wanted to sing. He just needed to know that someone wanted to listen.

  Stephen cleared his throat. He started off quietly and quavery at first, but his voice grew stronger as he sang. He knew every word. And he had a nice voice—plain, sincere, not always in tune but close enough.

  He knocked on his head for emphasis—knockety- knockety-knock—after the line about wanting a brain.

  Mads laughed and knocked on her own head, too. “That was great!” She kissed him when he was finished. It wasn’t anything like the way Sean sang, but it had its good points.

  His face was flushed, but he looked happy. “Do you feel like driving anymore?” he asked her.

  “No,” she said.

  “Let me drive, then,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.”

  They switched places, and he drove her home. He whistled the song on the way, knocking on his own head and hers as if they were empty as melons.

  5 Sean Tries Again

  * * *

  To: hollygolitely

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: If you’re wondering why a certain someone likes you, I’ve got news for you: Everybody else is wondering, too.

  * * *

  Hey. I got you something.”

  Holly had been staring spacily at the back of her locker, not even focusing on a picture of Orlando Bloom she’d taped there. Startled out of her reverie, she turned around to find Sean offering her a plastic sprig of holly.

  “It’s for your car,” he said. “To replace the daisy that asshole stole from you.”

  Holly took the sprig. “Thank you. You’re so sweet to remember that.”

  “Hey. That’s the way I roll. I can do thoughtful.”

  “It’s very real looking, for plastic,” Holly said.

  “I thought about getting you a real piece of holly, but I thought it would just die, and then you’d have to get something else. I didn’t want to give you a gift that would just be a pain in the ass.”

  More evidence of thoughtfulness, of a sort. “Thanks, I love plastic plants. I try to take care of real ones, but they always die. My mother says I have a black thumb.” She held out her right thumb as if to show off its major killing power.

  “Looks perfectly innocent to me,” Sean said. “But I know what you mean. I hate watering plants and stuff. Who needs it, right?”

  “Exactly,” Holly said.

  “So, I know you were busy and couldn’t go out with me a couple of weeks ago, but what about this weekend? Want to catch a band or something?”

  Holly twirled the sprig between her fingers. He was asking her out again. He was trying to please her. And he wasn’t giving up. He was a gorgeous, popular senior, and he liked her. He’d actually listened to something she’d said, remembered it, and acted upon it. It was charming.

  She was tempted to say yes, but something stopped her. Going out with Sean could make life complicated. There was Mads to think of, even though deep down Holly thought it wasn’t fair for Mads to have dibs on a guy who barely knew she existed when she had a boyfriend of her own. Eli wasn’t really a problem; they were keeping things casual, and she felt free to do as she pleased.

  But going out with Sean was a very public act. People noticed it. It made you an instant gossip target. And Holly still wasn’t sure she liked him enough to have her name linked with his for the next however many days or weeks until he moved on to his next conquest.

  Unlike most girls at RSAGE, Holly had no illusions about Sean. She knew she wasn’t the first girl he’d liked, and she wouldn’t be the last. His relationship with his last girlfriend, Jane, had had remarkable staying power—it had lasted three months. Three months. That was just sad. Yet people still talked about what an amazing record that was and how Jane had managed to pull it off.

  Beating a record of three months didn’t interest Holly. She didn’t want to waste her time with someone who didn’t take much of anything seriously. And she couldn’t afford to get her heart broken again.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got so much homework this weekend….”

  “So? Don’t you have time for a little R and R? Everybody needs a break once in a while.”

  She shook her head. “It’s really nice of you, but I can’t. Thanks.”

  Sean grinned, and she could see that he thought she was playing games with him, trying to play hard to get.

  “I’m serious,” she said.

  “Yeah. Okay.” He didn’t buy it for a second. “See you around.”

  She watched him walk away. She had to admit that watching him walk was fun. He didn’t turn back. He was cool. He knew how the game was played.

  A bell rang for her next class, which was study hall. Sebastiano appeared beside her and opened his locker.

  “I saw that,” he said. “Something’s going on between you and Sean. I want to hear all about it, starting now.”

  He got some books, closed his locker, and they walked to study hall together.

  “Okay, Sean asked me out,” Holly said.

  “And you said, ‘Why bother with the date? Let’s get it on right here, right now.’ Correct?”

  “No,” Holly said. “I told him I was busy.”

  “Good. Very sensible. You’ve got to watch out for guys like Sean. They’re all about the chase.”

  “I kind of got that feeling,” Holly said.

  “Of course, you will give in to him eventually,” Sebastiano said. “It’s a foregone conclusion.”

  “What? No, I won’t. I’ve already turned him down twice.”

  “That will just make him hungrier. This is Sean we’re talking about. No one can resist him. Even half the boys in school are ready to jump his bones, given the chance. And I’m talking about straight boys.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Holly said. “I can resist him. I don’t even like him that much.”

  “What is that ugly thing in your hand?”

  “This? It’s a plastic sprig of holly. For the vase in my car.”

  “Did he give it to you?” Sebastiano asked.

  “Yes. It’s kind of sweet of him, don’t you think?”

  Sebastiano shook his head. “You’re a goner.”

  “Stop saying that,” Holly said. “I’m strong. I am woman, hear me roar.”

  “Uh-huh. Meow.”

  “Besides, it would be weird going out with him,” Holly said. “Mads would have a heart attack.”

  “She’d get over it. You can’t let that stop you.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “Can we talk about my problems for a second?” Sebastiano stopped outside the library door.

  “We’re going to be late,” Holly said.

  “For study hall? Like anyone cares. If you were my real friend, you would care more about my heartaches than whether or not you’re on time for study hall.”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “Is something wrong with me?” Sebastiano asked. “Something I don’t know about? Do I have a KICK ME sign taped to my back? Stray nose hairs I somehow missed?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m decent-looking, right?” Sebastiano said. “I want to say super-godlike, but I don’t want to sound conceited.”

  “You’re very handsome,” Holly said. “I’ve always thought so.”

  “So why can’t I get a date for the Hap?” Sebastiano said. “I’ve been turned down twice already!”

  “Who did you ask?”

  “Jessica Penn and Brooke O’Reilly.”

  Holly took this in. Jessica Penn and Brooke O’Reilly were two of the prettiest and most popular senior girls in school. Since Sebastiano was a sophomore, he probably wasn’t high on t
heir list of potential dates. Also, they both had über-popular boyfriends who had surely asked them to the Hap already.

  “Okay,” Holly said. “First, they’re two years older than you.”

  “So? Sean’s two years older than you.”

  “I know, but girls usually mature faster than boys, so they like to go out with guys who are their age or a little older.” Sebastiano’s face fell. “As a rule. Just as a general rule. Going out with a younger guy is not unheard of.”

  “Okay, so what’s my problem?”

  “Well, what about Jack and Hunter, for starters?”

  “Those losers? What about them?”

  “Those losers, as you call them, are Jessica and Brooke’s boyfriends. What I’m trying to say, Sebastiano, is that the problem isn’t with you, it’s with the fact that the girls you asked already have dates.”

  “Those guys probably take those girls for granted. They might not have even gotten around to asking them to the dance. So I positioned myself to be ready in case an opening came up.”

  “It’s a strategy,” Holly said. “All I’m saying is, if you really want a date for the dance, you might have to lower your standards a little. Try asking a girl who doesn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe one who isn’t the queen of the school and can pick and choose any boy she wants. It might increase your chances of success.”

  Sebastiano frowned. “That’s going to be hard for me. I don’t like to compromise.” He suddenly brightened. “What about Quintana? She’s hot.”

  Holly shook her head. “Low probability.” She knew from all the Missed Connections chatter about Quintana that she had to be taken by now.

  “If I’m going to go through all the trouble and hellishness of a school dance, there’s got to be some payoff,” Sebastiano said. “I won’t go with just anybody. I’d rather stay home and watch Lizzie McGuire reruns. And you know how I feel about that show.”

  Holly felt sorry for him. She could see he was experiencing real pain over this.

  “I know,” she said soothingly. “You’ll find a great date. But why not make things easier on yourself? At least ask someone who’s available.”