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by Carrie Secor


  “No.”

  “I’ll pay you twenty bucks.”

  “Speak.”

  He shook the manila envelope at her. She took it, grudgingly, and slid her finger in the flap to open it, then withdrew a piece of stock paper. Her jaw dropped.

  It was a collage of photographs, but none of the pictures were of cows—they were all of Melody. Obviously she had been unaware that her picture was being taken, because in every single one, her gaze was averted or her face was turned away. There was Melody walking down the street with her hair blowing across her face. There was Melody leaning against the fence of the cemetery staring down the sloping hill. Melody against a background of clouds, Melody in the rain, Melody with a sunflower to her nose. And scrawled across the bottom was the title, When you weren’t looking…

  “So this is what you do when you’re on those walks,” was all Cadie could say.

  “Sort of,” Andy answered. “I mean, there are landscapes too and other stuff.”

  “The photos are beautiful,” Cadie remarked.

  “Can you put this in the lit mag?”

  Cadie set the collage down and rubbed her forehead. “Andy, I can’t publish pictures of my sister without her consent. And besides that, I don’t like you and I don’t really want to help you woo my sister because I like her and I don’t like you.”

  “Forty bucks.”

  She sighed dramatically. “I’ll think about it, Andy.” She slipped the collage back in the envelope and held it out toward him.

  He shook his head. “Hang on to that while you think about it.” He turned and headed toward the door. On his way out, he nearly collided with Lacey McMurry, who walked back into the art room.

  “Excuse me,” she said to him as he slithered into the hallway. There was no response. She looked at Cadie. “Rude much?” she said under her breath.

  Cadie smiled. Lacey was one of the few people on the literary magazine staff with whom she got along.

  “I just forgot my purse,” Lacey told her, pointing at the table across the room. Indeed, a purple and pink Vera Bradley purse was nestled on one of the chairs pushed under an art table. She crossed the room to retrieve it.

  “Oh, I didn’t even see that,” Cadie remarked.

  Lacey shouldered her purse and nodded at the door. “Wasn’t your sister dating him or something?” she asked.

  “Not really. He’s just a jerk she let hang around her sometimes.”

  “I heard he has the clap.”

  “Yeah, a lot of people heard that.”

  Lacey shook her head. “That’s Shane for you.”

  Cadie looked at her, startled. “What?”

  “Shane started that rumor, didn’t he? That Andy had the clap? At least, that’s what he was telling everybody who would listen—that it was just a rumor that Shane made up.”

  “Well—yes, but…” Cadie stared at her confusedly for a moment. Her comment, That’s Shane for you, had brought Cadie up short. Then she remembered. “You and Shane used to date,” she said slowly.

  “Was that a question?”

  “No. I just remembered it now.”

  Cadie considered this carefully. Lacey was a writer, like herself. She was not on the cheerleading squad. Cadie knew that Shane and Lacey had gone out when they were all sophomores, before Shane had earned himself the reputation of chasing after Felicia’s friends. Lacey and Felicia had never been friends, but she and Shane had dated for most of that school year, which was practically a marriage by high school relationship standards.

  Lacey looked at her nails. “So are you going to be all weird around me now that you and Shane are going out?”

  “We’re not going out,” Cadie said immediately. “I mean,” she started again, “I wouldn’t be weird around you anyway. I’m not like that.”

  “Good,” Lacey answered. “People on this staff are weird enough to me as it is.”

  “Um, look who you’re talking to. I’m their Hitler.”

  Melody had kissed two guys before. Her first kiss ever had been Mark Dunn, another kid in the band, when they were both in eighth grade. The two of them had been under the bleachers at a football game looking at a turtle when he had kissed her out of the blue. She had not really liked Mark, and was only under the bleachers with him because he had seen her and called her over to look at the turtle, but she kissed him back anyway, too shocked to do anything else. His teeth had pounded against hers in the middle of the kiss, which had been rather painful. For a few days after the kiss, she had waited to see if he would give any kind of impression that he liked her or wanted to kiss her again. He did not. Melody had been relieved. As she thought about it now, she realized that was pretty much the last time she had ever spoken to Mark.

  Then there had been a band party where someone had had the brilliant idea to play Spin the Bottle, and Melody had had the even more brilliant idea of participating. She had had to kiss Zach Stevenson. The kiss was quick, dry, and closed-mouthed, but Melody had still noticed that his breath had reeked of sour cream and onion. She reasoned that that was probably from the potato chips that had been served at the party, but the memory of it was so unappealing that she had steered clear of sour cream and onion chips ever since.

  It was for this reason that Melody was a little self-conscious as she led Lucas upstairs towards her bedroom. The only other guy who had ever been in her room before was Andy, but he had been in there since they were kids, and it was hard to feel self-conscious about her bedroom now after he had seen her carpet littered with Barbie dolls. Fortunately, Melody was a tidy enough person, so she at least knew there was no underwear lying around in plain sight.

  “So, this is your room,” Lucas said blandly, glancing around once they had stepped inside. “It’s very… pink.”

  “Yeah, it’s—yeah,” was all Melody could say.

  Lucas sat down on the edge of her bed. Melody stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of where she should sit. “Thanks for taking me home today,” she said instead. “I really didn’t feel like waiting for Cadie to finish her meeting.”

  “Sure, it’s no problem,” Lucas responded. “Actually, it was pretty exciting for me, since you’ve been my first passenger.”

  Melody nodded and folded her arms.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her. “You seem really uncomfortable.”

  “I’ve just never really had a guy in my room before,” Melody admitted.

  “Oh. Well, if it helps, don’t think of me as a guy,” Lucas offered.

  She laughed. “How should I think of you, then?”

  “I don’t know—a friend? Who happens to be a guy.”

  She took a chance and sat down next to him, although there was still a gap between them.

  “So how’s it going?” he asked her.

  “It’s going okay,” she replied. “Better than yesterday, anyway.”

  “And I bet tomorrow will be even better,” Lucas said.

  “I hope so.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  Lucas took a deep breath. “Why were you so hung up on Andy, anyway?”

  Melody also took a deep breath. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”

  “I know, but I wanted to see if you knew the answer.”

  She shrugged slightly, not looking at him. “He used to be different, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, he and I used to have a lot of fun together. But stuff changes, I guess. He was changing and I didn’t realize it. When you’ve known someone for so long, you still feel the same way about them because you don’t really know how else to feel. And it never occurs to you to stop and think about whether they’re still the same person you started liking to begin with.”

  Lucas nodded his agreement, and Melody continued. “The same goes with friends. I mean, when you live in a town like this, your friends become your friends stay your friends. You choose your friends at age six and they stay your friends until yo
u graduate, because by the time you figure out that maybe they’re not cool anymore, or maybe they never were cool, it’s too late to find yourself a new niche.”

  “Are you talking about Susan?”

  “I’m talking about both of them. I’ve been friends with both of them forever, and I’ve been spending the past few years so concerned with both of them, when I should have been concerned with finding new friends because they’re both stupid.”

  Lucas laughed. “Truth.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I just wish, you know, that you didn’t have to figure out they were stupid in such a sucky way.”

  “And Andy told me he used to have a crush on my sister.”

  “What?” Lucas exclaimed. “He told you that?”

  “Yeah. What a dillhole. I mean, not that it’s an issue to have a crush on Cadie, because she’s awesome.”

  “Sure,” Lucas answered with a shrug. “I just don’t know how he ever noticed her with you around.”

  Melody felt the color rise in her face. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and averted her eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “And… I don’t know how he could spend so much time focusing on Amanda with you around.”

  Melody felt Lucas’s fingers creep over hers on the bed. She carefully turned her hand over, allowing him to lace his fingers through hers, but she kept her face turned away, unable to look at him.

  “Can I ask you something else?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded.

  He slid closer to her on the bed, causing their shoulders and arms to press together. “Could I kiss you?” he whispered.

  She nodded again. His lips were on hers before she had even completely turned back around to face him. Lucas’s free hand reached up to gently rest on the side of her face as he kissed her, and she shivered.

  “Whoops—maybe you should learn to close the door.”

  Lucas and Melody leapt apart, startled. Lucas loudly smacked his head against one of the wooden posts of her bed.

  “Oh, my God, are you okay?” Melody exclaimed.

  “Ow,” Lucas answered, leaning forward and cradling his head in his arms.

  Melody glared at Cadie, who was standing nonchalantly in the doorway. “Don’t blame me,” she said. “You were the dumb shits who left the door open.”

  Melody noticed that her sister was holding a large manila envelope in one hand. “What’s that?” she asked curiously.

  Cadie glanced at it. “Just a submission for the literary magazine that someone gave me,” she answered dismissively.

  “Oh. Anything good?”

  “Probably nothing that will make it in.” Cadie reached into the room and grabbed the door knob. “Why don’t I show myself out.” She shut the door behind her as she left.

  Twenty

  Andy dropped his world history book as he pulled it out of his locker before homeroom on Wednesday morning. As he stooped down to pick it up, a pair of high-heeled tan leather boots stepped into his line of sight. He looked up to see Cadie standing there.

  “Ah,” he said, tucking the history book safely under his arm. “I didn’t recognize the shoes.”

  Cadie did not respond to that, just held out the same manila envelope he had given her yesterday in the art room. “I can’t take this,” she said to him.

  He took it from her reluctantly. “I guess you decided that you’re not going to publish pictures of your sister without her consent.”

  “No,” she responded. “I decided I’m not going to do anything to confuse her when she’s starting to be happy for the first time in a long time.”

  Andy slowly slipped the manila envelope onto the shelf in his locker. “She’s with Lucas, huh?” he asked.

  “It looks like it.”

  He shut his locker door. “So, she’s happy, then?”

  “I’d say so.” She eyed him carefully. “But—the photos were good. If you have pictures of any other subject matter, I think we can help you out.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cadie folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, well, good luck, Andy.” She turned and walked off. Andy leaned back against his locker and watched her walk away.

  After the final bell on Wednesday afternoon, Cadie had gone to the band room to find Melody, who had informed her that Lucas had offered her a ride home and she had accepted. Cadie, feeling slightly dejected, left the school through the side door in the band room. It had been a strange few days, and she had been looking forward to unwinding with her sister, but far be it for her to deny Melody some downtime with Lucas.

  As she descended the stairs out of the band room, she saw the crowd of kids hovering in front of the main entrance, waiting for their respective buses. She was not expecting to see Felicia there. Of course, Felicia was standing slightly apart from everyone else, leaning against a pillar and looking around with a detached expression, so she was not exactly one of the crowd, and she probably never would be.

  Cadie turned, intending to head toward the side lot where her car was parked, but hesitated. She turned back and walked toward Felicia before she could stop herself. Felicia saw her approach and a dark expression came over her face.

  “Hey,” Cadie greeted her. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No,” Felicia responded moodily. “I have a ride, thanks.”

  “You’d really rather take the bus than come home with me?”

  “Yes.”

  Just then, the big yellow school bus lumbered around the corner, thundering through the bus port before coming to a screeching halt in front of them. Its exhaust pipe emitted a huge cloud of black smoke.

  Felicia watched it with distaste and turned to look at Cadie. “Okay, let’s go.”

  The two of them walked to the Ford in relative silence. Cadie unlocked the doors and they climbed inside. She maneuvered the car through the parking lot around kids walking to their own cars and pulled safely out into the street. She thought about turning the radio on, but decided she did not want to make the ride any more comfortable for Felicia than necessary.

  “So,” Felicia finally said, breaking the silence, “are you sleeping with my brother?”

  Evidently Felicia was not interested in keeping the car ride comfortable for Cadie, either. “No,” Cadie responded flatly. “Are you sleeping with Elliot?”

  Felicia gave Cadie a look that might have been able to shoot daggers. “No,” she answered stonily. “I’m not sleeping with Elliot.”

  Cadie could almost hear the word “yet” tack itself on to the end of that sentence, but she did not push it.

  Felicia started digging through her purse. Cadie was not surprised when she pulled out her nail file and began filing her nails; this was something she often did when she was trying to completely detach herself from a situation. She was surprised, however, when Felicia asked, “So are you guys going to start dating now, or what?”

  “I doubt it,” Cadie replied, glancing in the rear view mirror. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for not talking to you about it sooner. And I’m sorry for—for what went down on Saturday. I said some stuff that was out of line.”

  “Well,” Felicia responded, “I may have overreacted a bit. And I guess I know why you didn’t talk to me about Shane sooner. I have it on good authority that I’m not the easiest person in the world to talk to.”

  Elliot had talked to her, Cadie realized. Elliot had managed to reason with Felicia, something that Cadie had never been able to do. Although, admittedly, she had not tried on very many occasions. Cadie had decided long ago that the best way to deal with confrontation with Felicia was to avoid it at all costs.

  “Look, Felicia, with everything that’s going on in your life, I don’t want you to have to worry about accidentally walking in on me and Shane hooking up or something. I can’t get involved with him if I know it’s going to make you uncomfortable. You and I have been friends for too long to let a guy screw things up in any capacity.”

  “If that’s what you want. I don�
�t want to be the one to say you can’t be with the person you want to be with.”

  Cadie glanced at Felicia and realized what her friend needed to hear. “I also don’t want you to have to worry about being unable to be with the person that you want to be with.”

  Felicia sighed. “It’s a small town, Cadie.”

  “No kidding. I shared one kiss with a guy and within twelve hours, the absolute last person I wanted to know found out about it.”

  “Right. So how much faster do you think this will spread?”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy. I just think life’s too short for you to spend your time worrying about what other people think. You’ve spent the past couple years closed off from a lot of things and a lot of people because some dumb girls have hurt you in the past. Well, I don’t think Elliot has any intention hurting you. Haven’t you been a lot happier for the past few weeks?”

  Felicia looked like she might be thinking this over. “Yes,” she admitted.

  “So why risk that just so your name won’t be turned over a few times in the rumor mill? People will get bored after a couple weeks and stop talking about it. Then eventually someone will get pregnant and people will forget about you altogether.”

  Felicia sat back in her seat and stared out the window. They had reached the third stoplight, and Cadie was stopped in the left turn lane. The sound of the left turn signal light blinking filled the car. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet,” Felicia finally said. “But thank you. Thank you for saying it.”

  “Anytime.” They were given the green arrow and Cadie turned. “And thanks for not beating me up more about Shane. I might have deserved it.”

  “Well, now that I think about it, you two might actually make sense,” Felicia remarked thoughtfully. “His first girlfriend was a writer, too.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  Shane got home from Wednesday’s practice feeling completely worn out. Their homecoming game was next week, and the team had spent the entire practice hearing about how they were going to embarrass the coach and bring shame to thousands of alumni. Shane thought “thousands” might be a generous assumption, considering his own graduating class only had a head count of ninety-seven.

 

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