Every Other Weekend

by Abigail Johnson

  Her laughter was a little shaky, but it told me she wasn’t mad about my narcoleptic tendencies. “I’m surprised you remembered even that one scene.”

  “You rose up on your knees at that point, and you were digging your nails into my arm the second the song started. Not real sleep conducive.”

  “I love that scene. I love that whole movie, but can I still get the cupcake?”

  “The fake cupcake that doesn’t exist? Sure, you can have it.”

  “Did you put a candle in it?”

  “I put sixteen candles in it. You can’t even tell it’s a cupcake anymore. It basically looks like a wrapper full of fire.”

  “Sounds perfect. And you’d sing to me?”

  “Nope, because that sounds as far from perfect as you can imagine. But I would sort of speak the words to you in an almost singing way that you’d really like.”

  “I think I would like that.”

  “Next year,” I told her, making a promise to myself as much as her. “It’ll be just like that—your birthday, midnight, me at your window, a gross banana cupcake, but with seventeen candles in it.”

  “I actually believe you’ll do that.”

  “If I wasn’t chronologically challenged at the moment, I’d do it now.”

  “Thanks, Adam.”

  “Happy birthday, Jolene.”

  Jolene

  Shoes in hand, I tiptoed down the stairs and slipped out the front door on Tuesday morning, my first as an official sixteen-year-old, sighing with relief when I made it down the driveway without Mom noticing I’d left. I rounded the corner and sped up with a grin when I saw Gabe’s minivan only to slow when I noticed Cherry in the back seat.

  I couldn’t afford to stand there feeling confused, so I kept walking and let myself into the passenger seat. I said hi to Gabe, then immediately twisted in my seat, and addressed Cherry. “Hey. So no more grounding?”

  Gabe smothered a laugh and started the van.

  Cherry glared at him before giving me a somewhat less hostile look. “I’m still a prisoner, but since it’s your birthday and we made these plans months ago, not to mention the fact that I have a babysitter, they let me out.”

  “Oh,” I said. It wasn’t exactly happy-birthday hugs and I’m-so-glad-we’re-not-fighting, but it was more than I was expecting given how our last conversation had ended. She clearly wasn’t thrilled with the grounding reprieve she was getting, which kept my voice quiet and soft. “Well, free is free, right? Sucks you have to spend part of it at the DMV.”

  “Yeah.” Her face smoothed and she sighed when Gabe made a show of clearing his throat. She rolled her eyes at him. “She barely got in the car. Chill.” Then she bit her lip and glanced at me. “I got you a present. I had to order it online since I couldn’t go out but...” She handed me a tiny holographic gift bag stuffed with purple tissue paper. “It’s fine if you don’t want it.”

  “I do,” I said, taking the present. “Um, thanks.” A few months ago, I’d have climbed into the back seat to tackle her in a hug before we tore into my gift together. Now I bit my own lip and I wasn’t sure which of us looked away first.

  “You get that this is my gift, right?” Gabe pointed at the steering wheel and breaking the tension. “Taking you to get your license at 7:00 a.m. when I could be sleeping?”

  Cherry flopped back against her seat. “He’s lying. He and the guys chipped in to get you a new lens for your camera. Gabe did a ton of research picking it out. They’re planning to give it to you at the house later.”

  “Um, we did not,” Gabe said in a bad acting voice while shooting daggers at Cherry in the rearview mirror. “None of us even like you, Jo. It’s super embarrassing how you come over all the time and make us free music videos.”

  Nothing in the world could have stopped me from grinning. A new lens was awesome, but knowing that the whole band had planned a gift for me... My heart felt too big for my chest. I leaned over and brushed a kiss on Gabe’s cheek. “Thank you. Also, it’s sweet that you think I’m not going to bill you.”

  “Hey now,” he said, side-eyeing me and smiling. “Don’t think that gets you out of a thank-you card. And you have to act surprised with Grady and Dexter.”

  “Deal.” Then I looked down at Cherry’s gift in my lap. I almost didn’t want to open it, as though good or bad, thoughtful or not, it represented the future of our friendship. We hadn’t been good for a long time, and I didn’t know how we were going to get back there or if we even could at this point. Cherry nodded when I told her I’d open it later.

  Gabe tried to ask me a few questions about how my film program application was going after that, but I was too focused on the life-changing test I was about to take, so he gave up and said I could tell them later.

  At the DMV, I flew out of the vehicle almost before Gabe stopped. I’d expected getting through the lines to take a disgustingly long time, but I was wrong. It took longer.

  I hit neither cone nor small child during my test. I stopped when I was supposed to, and my parallel parking was a thing of beauty. I mentally declared myself an excellent, excellent driver. And my instructor agreed. I rocked a full-on nerd dance, knees bent and arms flailing, when we got back to the DMV. Gabe wasted no time joining me in the parking lot. Cherry was too cool for us, but she did hug me. I was momentarily distracted by that hug, our first since Meneik had come back into the picture, and it was bittersweet since we both pulled away quickly.

  I ended up looking somewhat crazed in my photo, lots of teeth and neck tendons on display, but I strutted out of that place like I was John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.

  It was sweet.

  Having to ride shotgun when the state of Pennsylvania had just declared me fit to drive was less sweet, but at least Gabe played good music.

  I half turned in the passenger seat to talk with Cherry and ask the question I both wanted and didn’t want to ask. “How’s Meneik dealing with the forced separation?”

  Her lips pressed together. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t talk about him, okay?”

  Which meant she was still with him. I could only imagine the guilt trip he was laying on her over being grounded. No doubt he’d found a way to blame her for that, too. I seriously hated that guy.

  I felt somewhat stymied by her request though. Without soccer or her sucky boyfriend, what did we used to talk about? I was still trying to come up with something when Cherry’s shoulders slumped.

  “He’s frustrated that we can’t see each other right now. And Gabe—” she lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing me to lean farther in to the back seat “—won’t pass on any more messages between us.”

  I made a mental note to hug Gabe more often.

  “That’s something I was hoping to ask you about.”

  The hairs on my neck lifted and I knew I wasn’t going to like what she said next.

  “Could you maybe give me your phone, but—” there was so little volume to her voice as she slid her hand around the far side of my seat that I had to read her lips “—don’t let Gabe see.”

  “I can’t do that,” I whispered back.

  “Tell your mom or dad you lost it and ask for a new one.”

  I half laughed, thinking she was kidding. Cherry knew I’d been psyching myself up for having to ask them to pay for the film program, and after the horrific ordeal I’d gone through getting a dress for the dance with Adam, I was expecting it to nearly kill me.

  But Cherry didn’t laugh with me, she frowned.

  “I need to talk to him,” she said.

  “Um, no,” I said, all the humor fleeing from my face. “You don’t.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Fine. Then call him for me. Tell him—”

  “Cherry, no. Let him go. Seriously I—” I almost told her I knew what a good boyfriend should be like and Meneik wasn’t it. Except Adam wasn’t my
boyfriend. As a friend, he was kind and thoughtful, and he went out of his way to make me feel special—he’d almost made me believe him when he said all those things the night before. That was what a boyfriend should be like, not Meneik’s controlling, manipulating garbage. Cherry deserved someone who would treat her the way Adam already treated me.

  Whether I was worth it or not.

  “You can either be my friend and help me or...” She stared me down, the rest of her words unnecessary.

  “I’m trying to be your friend,” I told her. “I’ve watched this guy turn you into a meek, paranoid...thing, constantly apologizing for the slightest offense he imagines, forcing you away from your friends and making you feel guilty for every second that you’re not thanking him for putting up with you.” I’d stopped whispering at some point, and Gabe was obviously listening. “A year ago, you’d have smacked me if I’d wanted a guy like that.”

  “Except someone would have to want you in the first place, and no one ever has.”

  The air rushed out of me, and my lungs refused to expand. It was like the worst impact I’d ever felt on the field, and she hadn’t even touched me. She didn’t just mean no guy had ever wanted me; she’d meant no person.

  It didn’t help that her eyes shot wide the second the words left her mouth. She tried to take them back the rest of the way to my house, but between the rushing in my head and Gabe yelling at her, I heard nothing. And besides, how do you apologize after voicing the deepest darkest fears of someone’s soul?

  I wanted to get out of the van and I flung my door open as soon as Gabe pulled into the driveway despite the fact that my mother was waiting for us on the porch with a phone to her ear.

  “No, wait, she’s here. She just pulled up.” My mom ended her call as I climbed out of the minivan.

  Cherry and Gabe got out, too.

  “Jolene, wait, please,” Cherry whispered as Gabe’s voice rose loud enough to keep my mother from hearing her and asking questions.

  “Sorry we kidnapped your daughter on her birthday,” Gabe said. “We brought her back in one piece though.” Cherry kept shooting desperate glances at me but I wouldn’t meet them. I couldn’t. It hurt enough to keep breathing.

  “Thank you for bringing her home, Gabriel, but it’s time for you and Cherish to leave now.”

  Gabe hugged me tight like I needed. “Don’t forget I love you, okay? Promise or I won’t let go.”

  “I promise,” I whispered back. “I, um, have a feeling I might not make it over later, so thank Grady and Dexter for my present.”

  Gabe finally released me. He didn’t look at his sister either as he got in the car. Cherry brushed a tear from her cheek as she followed.

  As soon as they were gone, every last ounce of civility left my mother.

  “Where were you?” Dragons breathing fire scorched less than my mother’s voice. If I wasn’t so shredded over Cherry’s words, I might have felt apprehensive, but she’d already taken Mrs. Cho from me; she could scream all she wanted now.

  “The DMV. Look.” I pulled my license from my pocket and held it up. “It wasn’t a big deal.” I brushed past her to the front door. “And anyway, it’s done. I’m starving, so I’m going to go find something to eat.”

  “No.”

  “No?” I turned back to her where she was still perched on the bottom step. “No, I can’t go in, or no, I can’t—what is that?” I pointed past her to a snow-white Lexus parked beside her silver BMW with a giant red bow on top of it.

  “You got me a car?” Excitement burst inside me like a firework, bright and shocking, only to vanish a second later. “Why?”

  “I didn’t get you a car.”

  “Uh, yeah, you did.” I was still pointing at it. My arm refused to lower as I walked toward it. I shook my head. It was still there.

  “I told you, I didn’t. And it’s going back.” Her phone rang and she immediately answered it. “Yes? And? What did he say? No, I absolutely do not agree. Where did he get the money? Tell him that’s what I want to know. No, no, that is complete fiction. I can’t believe he’s doing this to me today.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “He can’t let me win this one. Even when he loses, he pulls something like this. Oh, you can bet he’s going to regret it. I know, I know, yes. Okay. I will. I won’t.” She hung up and strode toward where I stood fingering the red ribbon on my car.

  “This is from Dad? Did he bring it himself?” I’d coiled the ribbon around one finger and the satin fabric was starting to cut off my circulation.

  “I doubt it.” She was staring at the car without blinking. “I saw it from the window.”

  “Was there a card or a note?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I see it?”

  She blinked. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Another blink. “Because I threw it in the fireplace.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t read it.”

  “Okay then.” I wrapped my whole arm in ribbon and yanked. The giant bow snapped and fluttered into a bleeding pile on the ground. I leaned to one side to peer into the cab. I saw what I was looking for: the keys were right there in the ignition.

  Mom came to life as I opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “What are you doing? Jolene, get out of the car right now.”

  I closed the door. I even thought to lock it a second before she thought to try to open it. Her eyes grew wide so that I could see the white rims around her irises.

  “Open the door.”

  I started the engine.

  “Open the door.”

  I shifted into Reverse.

  Self-preservation forced her back a step. I adjusted my mirrors and fastened my seat belt before I peeled out, the stink of brand-new tires burning rubber causing my eyes to tear.

  “Where are you going? Where are you going?” my mother screamed after me. “Baby, come back!”

  I curled my fingers around the steering wheel and went to see my father.

  ADAM

  When I’d told Jolene that all electronics had been banned from our little family road trip, I had assumed the rule was restricted to devices with communication capabilities, like cell phones, tablets, and laptops. I wrongly thought my old MP3 player would be fine, considering we had a two-hour drive in front of us.

  Mom’s Geo was packed with our bags, Jeremy was driving, and I was more than content to claim the back seat for myself. No sooner had I climbed in and turned on my MP3 player than she yanked the buds from my ears and confiscated it.

  “Seriously?” I asked her.

  “Grandpa will not be okay with this on the farm.” She waved the earbuds back and forth before winding them up and putting the whole thing in her purse. “Besides, I don’t want you checking out for the whole drive. When’s the last time we went away for a couple days as a family?”

  I thought of Dad alone in his apartment. Jeremy was the moron who actually brought that up out loud. “We drove to Niagara Falls last summer, but Dad was with us, so this isn’t the whole family.”

  Mom stilled, then said she needed to take my MP3 player inside, and left us in the car.

  I kicked the back of Jeremy’s seat. “What the hell?”

  “Quit it. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Me?” I said. “You just had to bring up Dad. Look what you did.” I flung a hand toward the house.

  Jeremy settled more into his seat. “Maybe she needs the reminder.”

  That wasn’t Mom’s problem. It wasn’t that she forgot anything that had happened, it was that she couldn’t forget it. I imagined it as if all the most painful moments of her life were playing on a continuous loop in her head, and when Jeremy went out of his way to bring up something raw, it jolted the volume up louder. She was inside the house agonizing over Dad’s absence, the
effect that it was having on Jeremy and me, the guilt from all her decisions, and the reasons she’d made them. Greg. Over and over again.

  “It’s different with her than Dad,” I said.

  “I know that. You think I don’t care? That I like making her hurt or knowing Dad’s rotting away in that apartment all the time?”

  Sometimes, yeah, I did think that. “You don’t act like you care. How is saying stupid stuff to Mom caring?”

  “How long has it been?” Jeremy met my gaze in the rearview mirror and held it.

  “Five months.” My stomach sank saying those words out loud. It had been five months since Dad moved out and nearly as long since we’d started shuffling back and forth between them. Nothing had changed. Not a damn thing.

  “Five months. You’ve been off with your girlfriend over there, and I’m the one who’s been around watching him. It’s not getting better for either of them, and it sure as hell isn’t getting better for me. You wander around at Dad’s like a zombie, only coming to life to mouth off, and then over here, you’re on eggshells trying to make sure Mom doesn’t feel anything that might upset her. You’re too busy pissing off Dad and protecting Mom to realize you’re doing it wrong!” Jeremy slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

  My blood rushed and my fist clenched beside my thigh. “And what are you doing that’s so brilliant besides making her cry and keeping Dad complacent?”

  “Dad’s already mad all the time. He doesn’t need any help from you to stay that way. And Mom—”

  “Is sad all the time,” I said. “She doesn’t need your help either.”

  “Yeah, she is, but she’s not letting go. Maybe if you let her think about what her sadness is doing, that she isn’t the only one who’s sad, maybe she’ll realize she doesn’t have to be sad all the time. That all of us together could help.” Jeremy shook his head. “Five months, Adam. Five months. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want them to live like this.” His gaze slipped away when he added, “You either.”

  There wasn’t much I could say after that. It was one thing to know that my brother loved me. Of course he did; he had to, just like I had to love him. I didn’t always like him. In fact, I rarely liked him, but I did love him.