Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick

by A. E. Snow

  Mom narrowed her eyes at me but didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, she sighed again. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I prepared myself to hear a speech.

  “Okay. Goodnight,” she said and reached out to hold my face in her hands for a moment before kissing my head. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and her shoulders drooped. With a sad smile, she turned and shuffled back down the hallway.

  I went back into my room and got back into bed. Instead of sleeping, I stared at the wall despite being exhausted. I’d expected to get in major trouble with Mom. I definitely hadn’t expected to find out why Isla never talked about Santa Fe. My mother was the rock of our family. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not have that.

  The morning was quiet and slow to begin. I woke up and rolled over forgetting Isla was there. She sat up in bed blinking back tears from her red, puffy eyes.

  I sat up next to her.

  “Good morning,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

  “Thanks for letting me stay.” She grabbed her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Her usually beachy waves frizzed like a messy halo. “I should go. I think my dad will probably want to talk.”

  “Sure. Talk later?” I wondered if I should hug her. Isla wasn’t really the hugging type.

  “Yeah,” Isla said, wiping her eyes. She groaned and sept her hair up in a messy ponytail. “K. See ya later.” She slipped out and closed the door behind her.

  Twist smoked a cigarette outside when I emerged from my room a few minutes later. I made an extra cup of coffee and watched her light up another cigarette immediately after she put the first one out. I left her coffee black, the way she likes it, and added some milk to mine. I carried both mugs outside, walking slowly to not spill boiling hot coffee everywhere.

  “Hi.” I put Twist’s cup next to her chair on a small table.

  “Hi, doll.” Twist had her cat-eye eyeliner already drawn on and her hair was tied up in a scarf. She didn’t look like someone who’d spent the night crying. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry.” I paused for a few seconds before I asked, “Did you guys break up?”

  “Yes.”

  “How come?”

  “Lots of reasons. Mainly, he was cheating on me with my roommate,” she said.

  I gasped while shame washed over me.

  “He had told me that he never really considered us to be exclusive. What a jerk. And what crappy timing . . .” she continued.

  I chewed on my lip filled with guilt. I couldn’t imagine that someone wouldn’t want to drop everything to date Twist. He cheated on her with her roommate! I’d always just assumed that if you were gorgeous and amazing, no one would hurt you.

  “But . . . you were together for so long.” I tried to make sense of how things could just . . . bam, be over.

  “Not that long,” she said.

  But in high-school terms, a year was almost forever.

  I reached over and grabbed her hand as the sun tried to break through the fog. “I wish you’d not smoke so much, or just quit smoking altogether.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Sure thing, Mom.”

  Chapter 9

  We quickly settled into a new dynamic. Even though she was sad, it was good to have Twist back. She’d moved into the barn and painted much of the day and often, late into the night. I’d peek out the window before I went to bed and see the barn lights were still on.

  A week went by and then she begged me to go with her to her apartment.

  “Please, Meadow? I don’t want to go alone.”

  “Of course I’ll go with you. Are they going to be there?” I asked and pulled on a hoodie.

  “No. I texted Ruby to let her know. Then I deleted her number.”

  I winced. “You don’t think you’ll ever be friends with her again?”

  “No freakin’ way.”

  We’d spent the day packing her apartment. The small alcove under the sleeping loft was completely full of her stuff. She kept a stiff upper lip the whole day though I felt a little weepy. And guilty.

  After a long day of moving, I lay in bed exhausted but unable to sleep. I scrolled through old text messages with Alejandro. I guess I should probably delete this. My finger hovered over the delete button when my phone buzzed.

  Jack: Hi

  Me: Hi

  Jack: Hi. Should we keep doing this?

  Me: Lol. Yeah. All night.

  Jack: ;) How’s it going?

  Me: Oh you know. It’s going.

  Jack: So do you want to hang out sometime?

  A smile played on my lips.

  Me: Yes.

  Jack: I’m up north with my parents but let’s do something when I get back.

  Me: Sounds good.

  I definitely couldn’t sleep after that. I tossed and turned thinking alternately of Jack, Alejandro, and school. I bit my fingernails and stared at the ceiling.

  Somewhere around 3 a.m, I decided not to go back to HSA. No way. The closer we got to August, the more anxious I felt. I could not and would not go back. I’d avoided Mr. Egan at the party and deleted his email to my mother but I couldn’t avoid it forever. Sooner or later, he’d track mom down and talk to her. I’d picked my cuticles until they bled, worried sick about how disappointed mom would be in me when she found out I was a hack.

  Telling my parents I wanted to leave would be hard but maybe not as hard as telling them that I sucked as an artist. Maybe they won’t care. Maybe they’ll just be really supportive of my happiness. Ha!

  Plus, I was a failure as an artist, so there was that. I just didn’t think I could bear the humiliation of going back. Emilia would probably make a big deal out of it and say things like, “You are so brave to come back after what happened.” I broke out into a cold sweat when I thought about Emilia. I hadn’t considered what might happen if she found out that I’d been closely inspecting her boyfriend’s mouth. I tried to justify it in about fifty different ways every time I thought about it. But she’s so awful. She’s mean and vindictive and . . . Then that small voice whispered, Well, you’re pretty awful, too.

  I got out of bed and sat down at my desk with a pad and paper and started a list.

  Berkeley High pros: loads of people, invisibility, Isla’s probably going there, won’t have to take art, no Emilia, no Mr. Egan. Cons: loads of people, invisibility, won’t have to take art.

  “This isn’t that helpful.” I threw the pen down and paced around the room.

  Hank woke up from where he’d been sleeping under the bed and jumped up, demanding pets.

  I flopped down on the bed, and he waddled over.

  Meow. He rubbed his face against my knee.

  I frowned. “This is a fine kettle of fish I’m in, Hank. I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life and now somehow I’m caught between two boys! And I suck. I don’t know what I want and everything is a mess. Shit shit shit.”

  Hank just stared at me and then yawned. His breath smelled like cat food.

  “Yuck.” I grabbed my computer and went straight to my mom’s email account. I’d been checking every day. No new messages. With a sigh, I closed it and lay back on the bed.

  My thoughts drifted back to Emilia. I was afraid of her, which was at least part of my reason for not wanting to go back. That would never, ever fly with my parents as a reason. I’d have to come up with legitimate reasons. Something they’d buy. I laid in my bed and chewed on my fingernails. At some point, I fell asleep and when I woke the sun was high in the sky.

  Coffee, coffee, coffee.

  Hank meowed at me as if to say about damn time. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Maybe Twist could help diffuse the situation when I finally told my parents about m
y plans.

  Twist and Mom sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Someone, Twist probably, had made a big breakfast. Yogurt and granola with fruit, bacon, and eggs. It was kind of nice having Twist home. Mom never cooked breakfast.

  “Hi,” Twist said to me when I shuffled in.

  Coffee was already made.

  Mom looked at me. “What should we pass as hors d’oeuvres?”

  “What?” I scrunched up my face at her. “Like right now?”

  Mom rolled her eyes. Two could play the eye-rolling game. “No, Meadow, not right now, at the opening. I’m addressing the entire room here,” she said, looking at both of us.

  “Oh.” I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Mom turned to Twist. “I have to meet with the caterer this week.”

  Twist popped a strawberry into her mouth. “Just let the caterer pick,” she said with her mouth full of fruit. She stood up, slid the glass door open, then went out to the pool deck still wearing a long nightgown and an old man sweater and eased into a lounge chair. Her feet were bare even though it was chilly.

  Mom sighed when Twist pulled her cigarettes out of the pocket of her sweater. She plucked one out, lit up, and tilted her head back to blow out the smoke.

  “Meadow?” Mom was staring at me.

  “What?” I turned to face her.

  “Well, were you listening?” She seemed exasperated with me and it was only 10 a.m.

  “Um.”

  “Listen to me, please. First of all, don’t ever start smoking. Never ever. Secondly, you need to go shopping for a dress.” She tapped her pen on the table and stared at the notepad in front of her full of what appeared to be a lengthy to-do list.

  “Ok. What for?” I asked stupidly.

  “Meadow!” She was almost yelling. “For the opening! It’s fast approaching! I want everything done this week. I don’t have time to buy you a dress for this.”

  Thank goodness. “Can it be pants?”

  Mom just glared at me over her glasses. I gathered that pants weren’t good enough. Maybe this wasn’t such a good time to talk to her about school.

  “I’ll go. Isla can help me.”

  “Good. Do it today.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. If you haven’t noticed, everything is falling apart. Twist has a bunch of work to do and really, Paolo picked a terrible time to cheat on her with her best friend.”

  I almost said something like “Are you serious?” but the look on Mom’s face was enough to convince me to keep my mouth shut. But really, she had lost all perspective.

  Her face softened. “I know how that sounded, Meadow. It’s just that we are on a deadline and under a lot of pressure. Twist is an incredibly talented artist, and I’m not just saying that as her mother. There are those that will say that it is a major conflict of interest for Twist’s first art show to happen at my gallery. But the truth is, if I weren’t her mother, I would fight for the chance to hold her first show. She is going to be huge and I just want people, and critics, to see that. Everything has to be perfect!”

  I nodded.

  Mom took off her glasses and put them on the table. Staring out the window at Twist, she said, “She’s lost both of her best friends. It’s terrible. I know that. But just think of the art that will come out of this.”

  I sipped my coffee. I’m a horrible person. I’m just as bad as Ruby. Ugh. I should have an incredible portfolio too. No one is going to fight over my first show. There isn’t even going to be one probably.

  Tears pricked at my eyes. “I guess I’ll see if Isla can go.” The tears starting falling as soon as I got to my room.

  I texted Isla from my window seat. Can I come over? I hadn’t even been to her house yet. The stress level in my house was so high, I just wanted to get out.

  Yeah, come on, she said finally.

  I changed out of my pajamas and into jeans and a tank top. It was chilly out so I added a sweater. I brushed my hair and decided that today might be a good day to leave it down. I left my glasses on. My eyes were dry and itchy because I’d been leaving my contacts in too much. I slipped on a pair of shoes and headed out the front door.

  Chapter 10

  Isla’s dad pulled out of their driveway just before I crossed the street. I hadn’t seen him since the party at our house and I was kind of relieved that I wouldn’t have to make small-talk with him.

  I crossed the street and walked up their stone walk. The yard was full of wild, unkempt flowers. The front door opened just as I raised my hand to knock.

  “Hi.” Isla smiled but her usually perfect hair was tangled and dark circles rested under her eyes.

  Stepping inside, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” She ducked her head, but I saw her eyes rimmed with red.

  She led the way through their house. Each room had lots of windows and was painted beige. I squeezed past the boxes that still lined the hallway and filled a good portion of the main living areas. None of the rooms looked lived in. No curtains on the windows, no pictures on the walls.

  “It’s a mess still. Dad has been too busy to unpack and I don’t know what to do with all his junk.” She shrugged.

  “It’s a beautiful house. Junk and all,” I said, just teasing about the junk and looking around at the ironwork colorful Spanish tile.

  I ran my hands on the smooth black Iron as I followed Isla up the stairs and to her room at the end of a long hall.

  Inside, I was immediately drawn to the windows overlooking the back garden which had a trellis and flowers everywhere.

  Isla plopped down on her bed. “So, what’s up?”

  “Nothing much.” I hesitated. “Nice house.”

  “Thanks, I just live here,” she said. “Sit. Wanna watch something?”

  “Yeah.” I sat at the foot of the bed and noticed a TV in the corner where I’d been standing. It was small and old which surprised me a little. I thought maybe she’d want to talk, but I was a little relieved that she didn’t. Frankly, I had no idea what I could say that might be helpful.

  “I know, it sucks. My dad doesn’t watch TV. I bought this at a yard sale.”

  “I have to sneak into my mom’s room to watch TV, which is odd because she doesn’t watch TV either. Or else I watch on my laptop.”

  “Our parents are weird,” Isla said and shook her head.

  “Everyone’s parents are weird here.”

  “I’m sorry about the other night.” Isla’s lips turned down into a frown.

  “That’s what friends are for, right?” I said, sounding like an 80’s song.

  “Yeah.” She flipped on an old remote through the TV stations. “We have cable still. Dad doesn’t know, and I’m not telling.”

  “Good thinking.”

  She stopped on an old movie and sighed.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  Isla readjusted so she lay on her stomach. “This is the best movie of all time. An Affair to Remember. It’s not the beginning. Sorry.”

  Isla caught me up on the action. “See her? Isn’t she beautiful? That’s Deborah Kerr, well, Terry McKay in the movie and Cary Grant. Isn’t he handsome? I heard he did LSD all the time.”

  “Really? I didn’t know they had LSD back then.”

  “Of course they did, it just wasn’t illegal yet,” she said. “Anyway, they fell in love on a ship but they were both with other people so they decide to break up with their people, get jobs and meet again on Valentine’s Day.”

  “That’s romantic.”

  “Yes. It’s desperately romantic. And desperately sad.” Isla put her head back on her pillow.

  I rolled over to lay on my stomach next to her.

  It was the kind of movie my mom liked. G
ood, but slow. I didn’t understand why Terry and Nickie didn’t just break up with their people and get together.

  “Where are you going to school?” I asked Isla.

  She looked at me without turning her head. “Berkeley High.”

  “So it’s for sure then?”

  “Yep. I just heard a speech yesterday around my dad’s ideas about public education. I went to public school in Santa Fe. It’s not so bad.”

  “I don’t want to go to HSA next year,” I blurted out. It felt good to say that out loud.

  “What?” Isla asked. “Why? Did something happen?”

  I hadn’t told her any of the drama with Emilia, other than to agree with her that Emilia was, in fact, a raging bitch. I hadn’t told her about Mr. Egan either. I’d only ever talked vaguely about HSA before.

  “Well, it’s a long story, but my painting teacher and advisor pretty much told me I wasn’t good enough on the last day of school.” I blinked back tears. “I don’t see the point in going back.”

  Isla sat up on turned her attention to me. “That can’t have been what he meant! I’ve seen your paintings and they’re beautiful.”

  It felt great to hear someone say something good for once.

  “I guess, but there’s more.”

  “Tell me.” She cocked her head to the side.

  I sat up, too, and folded my legs under me. “Emilia heard what he said and told the whole school. I don’t think everyone heard, but I was totally humiliated.”

  “She did what?”

  I looked at my feet and didn’t say anything.

  “What. A. Jerk.” Isla’s voice shook.

  I shrugged. “I know. I don’t feel like I can show my face there again.”

  “Where would you go?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I haven’t told my mom any of this.”