by Portia Moore
“Hi,” I say.
He turns around with a small smile. “Shower girl?” he says with a laugh. His voice is smooth and easy, not nervous or shaky, which is how I’d expected it to be.
“That’d be me, but I prefer Gwen,” I say, resting my hand on my hip.
He takes off his baseball cap, revealing a mop of light brown tendrils. Some fall over his eyes. He sweeps them away, revealing beautiful light blue eyes, one with a noticeably red circle around it. He sticks out his hand, and I stare at it, lost for a second. God, he’s hot, and not in the way Gia usually likes: clean-cut, uptight, and bully-able. William has stubble on his cheeks, his hair is naturally messy, and from his stance, he seems laidback. I take his hand, which swallows mine, and shake it. His hand is warm but not sweaty.
“Can I come in, shower girl?”
“Oh, you announce yourself? It would have been nice if you did it the first time,” I counter, stepping aside.
“I’m a quick learner,” he says, nudging me.
He winks before walking past me, leaving behind a nice aroma. He has on cologne or some type of spray but not a whole gallon like some of the boys at my school pour on before dances.
“What is that smell?” he says, his face scrunched up and not in the good way.
I feel my nerves go on high alert. “Is something wrong with your nose or something?”
“No. What’s that terrible smell?” he asks, taking off his jean jacket and revealing a white T-shirt and perfectly toned arms. One has a tattoo peeping from beneath the shirt sleeve, but I can’t see enough to know what it is completely.
“Look, buddy, I may not do a lot of things right, but cooking is something I take pride in doing exceptionally well, so if you think my food smells like a toilet, then you’re smelling your own shit because you are full of it,” I say angrily. A smirk spreads across his face, and I feel embarrassed.
“Is William messing with you? He has a very odd brand of humor,” Gia says, appearing in the room behind him.
“Just getting your sister back for punching me in the eye.” He winks at her before picking her up and giving her a kiss.
She pushes him away, and I feel so embarrassed, though I’m not entirely sure why.
“William,” she says, sounding embarrassed, but she doesn’t leave his embrace.
“I didn’t punch you. I elbowed you,” I correct him.
“Well, since it doesn’t seem like you two have properly introduced yourselves, William, this is my sister, Gwen. Gwen, William.”
“We actually did, but call me Will. Gia loves calling me by my full name, but please just Will,” he says.
“Great, less syllables for me to say.” I shrug.
We all stand around a little awkwardly.
“Gwen made lasagna. Doesn’t it smell delicious?” Gia says excitedly.
His eyes cut to mine, and we both laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“We’re both jerks.” I giggle.
“Gwen!” she chastises me.
“No. She’s right,” he says with a smile.
WILL’S PERFORMANCE OF not liking the way my food smelled was pretty convincing, but he can’t even pretend it doesn’t taste good after the way he demolishes the large plate Gia fixes him.
“So it tastes better than it smells?” I tease.
He nods between bites. “Gia, why don’t you cook like this?”
“It’s just never been my thing. Gwen, Mom, and Dad all are good cooks, so I kind of let that be their thing,” she replies.
“You have to show her how to make this,” he says, shaking his head.
“Babe, cooking isn’t my thing,” Gia says with a frown.
“Well, hell, show me how to make it,” he says with a laugh.
“Sorry, family recipe.” I shrug.
“I’ll be family soon. Right, G?” he asks as she grabs his plate and takes it to the sink.
She smirks when she returns to the table.
“I’ve asked your sister to marry me. She turned me down,” he says teasingly.
I pretend she hasn’t already told me this. “Aww, Gia, quit playing hard to get.”
William shoots me a grateful smile.
“I didn’t turn you down,” she says with a sigh.
“You didn’t say yes,” he says adamantly, and suddenly I feel as though I’m part of a conversation I shouldn’t be present for.
Their eyes lock in on each other as if they’re having a staring contest. Gia breaks away first.
“William doesn’t have a filter. You two have that in common, I think,” she says, sounding a little irritated.
“I have a filter. It’s just not very clean.” I shrug.
William’s jaw is clenched. I can see he isn’t too happy about Gia turning him down.
“So are you going to law school too?” I ask, grabbing a piece of store-bought garlic bread that actually doesn’t taste half bad.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I hate school. I couldn’t imagine going for four more years.”
“Which is ironic since William is teacher, isn’t it?” she says, shooting me an amused glance.
“How do you hate school if you teach? What are you, a masochist or something?” I ask, confused.
“I hated being taught by other people. I’m a great teacher,” he says smugly.
“So you’re a hypocrite?” I ask.
“How does teaching make me hypocrite?”
“You’re in a profession where you make others suffer the same fate you want to avoid, and you’re probably stressing how important education is and how they should appreciate it,” I say.
“That doesn’t make me a hypocrite. If you want to survive, unless you have a really rich uncle or something, education is important and should be appreciated. Just because I don’t want to go to college a minute longer than I have to to accomplish what I want to do doesn’t make me a hypocrite,” he says, folding his arms.
“He’s right, Gwen. It makes him a sadist, not a hypocrite,” Gia says, sitting on his lap and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“It’s not right,” I say.
“I let my students know they have a choice. Love it or hate it, education’s important. Since I work with high school students, they could drop out if they wanted. School isn’t mandatory,” he says.
“Who on earth hired you?” I say in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t want me to be your math teacher?” he says, his sparklingly blue eyes holding mine. They’re beautiful, the kind you can get lost in.
I feel a pull in my stomach and shake it off. “Yeah, you seem like you’d blow off class a lot, and subs are easy.” I grab my plate and put it in the sink. “I’m going to head to bed. You crazy kids have fun.”
“You tired already?” Gia asks in disbelief.
I fake a yawn. “Yeah, the bus ride took a lot out of me.”
“And assault would too, I guess,” William jokes, and Gia swats him. “I’m only messing around. All’s forgiven. We’re going to be best buds, right, Gwen?”
I’m annoyed by the fact my heart is speeding up a bit. “Maybe. Good night, guys.”
I head up to Gia’s room. I lie across her bed and imagine what my life will be like in four years. If it’s half as good as Gia’s, I can see myself being a very happy woman.
I WAKE UP to Gia’s nudge. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.
“What’s up?” I say groggily.
She sets my head on her lap and strokes my hair with a sigh. “Long day.”
“What’s wrong?” If she woke me up, something has to be wrong.
“You weren’t really tired earlier, were you?”
“A little bit, and I thought you guys would want some privacy.”
“How’d you like him?” she asks.
“He’s really cool. I didn’t think he’d be your type,” I say.
She smiles and chuckles. “I don’t think he is sometimes. We’re so different
. He reminds me of you actually.”
I groan. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“It’s good. Mostly. And you think he’s cute, don’t you?”
As if the question is even needed. Of course he’s cute. He’s hot. I think I have a little crush on him, but I can’t tell her that without her spazzing out. I know what most people don’t though—crushes don’t mean anything. They’re just stupid butterflies and meaningless empty emotions. I used to have a crush on the guy who served pizza at our school on Fridays.
“Of course he is. Are you crazy?” I tell her with a laugh, and she beams. “What’s the problem? What am I missing in all of this?” I sit up and face her.
She lets out a sigh. “William is great. He’s this amazing man, and I know he’s going to make someone really happy one day. I just get these moments when I don’t think it’ll be me.”
“What do you mean? He got the ring for you. He’s proposed to you. The only way it won’t be you is if you refuse to take it.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Have you ever been in love?”
For a moment, I think of a wisecrack, something to get her to laugh, but seeing the sincerity in her expression, I kill my smug grin. “No.”
“Before Dad died, he told me you know you’re in love with someone when you can see yourself growing old with that person. You can see your life as clear as a movie screen, and when you see it, it feels right,” she says.
I hold her hand. For a moment, I’m jealous of the talks she had with dad about boys, the advice he gave. I’ll never get that. I’ll never get those moments.
“Well, can you see your tomorrow without him?” I ask.
She scrunches up her face, then a look of relief washes over her face. She shakes her head with a soft smile.
“Then there’s your answer, sis.”
THE NEXT MORNING, Gia gets me up bright and early and shows me around the city. Where she lives is about a forty-five minute drive from downtown Chicago, but it’s so worth the trip. We go to the field museum, which is her idea. She takes me to the Sears Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the world, and even though it’s chilly, we stand on the observation deck and look at the lake front. The cold air doesn’t seem to scare anyone else off from looking at it either. For lunch, we go to one of the most famous restaurants in Chicago, called Lou Malnati’s, for pizza. It definitely lives up to the hype.
“I can’t believe how good this is,” I say before putting a long stretch of cheese in my mouth.
“I think the food here is the best part of this city,” she says, cutting into the deep dish pizza that’s as thick as the lasagna I make. “I talked to Mom this morning while you were sleeping.”
“And what did our lovely mother have to say?” I ask sarcastically, dreading her reply.
“She wants you back home tomorrow and not a minute past.” She giggles.
“You know I’m entirely capable of getting back by myself. I don’t need a guardian.”
“I know, but I don’t understand why you’d want to endure another four-hour bus ride with a bunch of strangers. I can’t imagine that was the best experience.”
Now she’s right about that.
“I have a late class, but William is off until Tuesday, so he offered to drive you back.” She takes a sip of her diet soda.
My face immediately scrunches up. “Aww, Gia, I don’t want to be stuck in the car with your boyfriend for that long.” I hear myself whine.
“I thought you liked him,” she says with a frown.
“He’s seems okay, but a six-hour car ride with a practical stranger is going to be weird,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
“I can’t believe you’re actually pouting.”
“I’m not pouting,” I say, feeling myself pout.
“Look, it’s not going to take six hours. That was because you were on a bus that probably made a dozen stops. And don’t you want to get to know your future brother-in-law?” she teases.
I look at her with a smirk. “You don’t even know if you want to marry him yet.”
She frowns. “That’s why this trip will be good. You can get to know him better and let me know what you think.”
“You’re going to trust me, a hormonal, self-destructive seventeen-year-old, to have a hand in making the biggest decision of your life?” I say sarcastically.
“Mom and Martin will meet him too,” she adds, and I groan.
“Ugh, that’s a family dinner I’m just dying to attend,” I say, already wishing I had another place to run away to.
“Come on, if you can be nice and make sure meeting my parents isn’t the worst experience of his life, that would be great,” she says, pleading.
“I guess. It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway.” I groan.
“Do you think Mom is going to like him?” she asks, her smile tight.
I have to cover up my laugh. “Umm, I dunno.” She frowns, so I say, “Okay, it’s just . . . I don’t really know the guy, but he seems a little rougher around the edges than the type you usually have on your arm.”
“You’d be surprised. William can clean up well,” she says with a smirk. “And his family is really connected.”
“You mean, like, they’re in the mob?” I joke.
“No, Gwen, but William’s dad is a very important man,” she says.
Great, another pretentious snob possibly connected to our family tree.
“You know how Mom can be. Just make sure she’s not too hard on him,” she says with a pleading grin.
Yeah, because mom always listens to my opinion.
“Okay,” I relent, putting up my hands.
What is she thinking? I’d never send a prospective husband home to meet my mom and Martin alone. She’s lost it. It would be different if he was some pedigreed guy who wore button-ups and had perfectly coiffed hair. I can already say without a doubt that my mom will not like Will. I wonder if Gia’s trying to sabotage things. Maybe she really doesn’t want to marry him and this will be the final nail in the coffin. Oh well, I have my own problems to deal with. Will better hope Mom’s too pissed at me to bother interrogating him because if he hits her with the “I’m a teacherthat hates school,” bit he did me last night . . . at the very least, my return home will be entertaining.
“I WANT MY car back right fucking now, Jack!”
I hear Evie scream into the phone as I walk into the house. I can’t help but look at her with disgust before I head to my room and slam the door. Luckily I was able to bum a ride home from my manager, Cindy. I bet my mom’s regretting that act of kindness to the jerk of the century now. She’s so loud I can still hear her. I take off my work clothes that always smell like coffee and sit on my bed. I grab the house phone and call Chris. He doesn’t answer. I sigh and call the other member of our weird, disconnected Rat Pack.
“Hey, I need a ride. Can you come pick me up?” I say, sounding bored.
“No. I don’t really want you to come to the party. You’re a cockblocker,” Aidan says in that blunt way only he can.
“When have I ever been a cock block?”
“You always are. A lot of girls won’t come up to me or Chris because they think we’re with you,” he whines.
“That just helps you weed out the girls who aren’t sluts,” I counter.
“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I’ll be there in ten.” He laughs. “Wait,” he says before I hang up.
“What?”
“Your friend Amanda. I think I might have some fun with her tonight. Don’t screw it up.”
I start to protest, but he’s already hung up. Ugh. No way. Aidan is not going to do anything with Amanda. The reason it’s hard for me to keep any girlfriends is because they fall for Aidan’s jerk-off appeal and Colgate smile. I grab a pair of jeans and a white sweater, the kind that holds everything a little too tightly but looks good. I run my hands through my hair and put on some lip gloss and a little bit of eyeliner. I rub my lips together, grab my jacket,
and head to the kitchen.
The yelling has stopped. My mom’s on the couch. Her face is pleasant, not tense and scrunched up.
“Jack apologized,” she says happily.
“Great. When is Jack bringing our car back?” I ask.
“Tonight. He said he just had a lot of things come up. He didn’t mean to inconvenience us.”
I roll my eyes as I grab a bottle of water out the fridge. “We need groceries. If you leave me the money, I’ll go tomorrow,” I say, intentionally changing the topic from Jack.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To a party with Chris and Aidan,” I say, heading back to my room.
“Hey, come have a seat.”
I roll my eyes but do as she says. I sit on the opposite end of the couch from her.
“You know, you’re so pretty. You look just like me when I was your age,” she says, her eyes looking past me as if she’s looking into the past at herself. “Being pretty can get you in trouble sometimes.”
I laugh. I know she’s not going to attempt to have the sex talk with me. I’ve learned more than enough from her leaving the door to her room open when she’s drunk.
“I know you and those boys used to be just friends, but you’re getting older. Your breasts are getting bigger, and their little wieners notice things like that,” she says.
I almost want to vomit thinking about Chris and Aidan’s wieners. “Mom. God, please stop.”
“I’m just saying. We’re barely making ends meet with just us two. I can’t afford any trips to the clinic, and I am definitely not ready to be grandmother,” she says.
I stand. I’ll wait for Aidan on the porch. I don’t bother to tell her goodbye.
He arrives with Mike and Devin.
“I need to talk to Aidan,” I tell Devin, who has claimed the front seat.
“Come on, Lisa, don’t start bitching now. We haven’t even gotten to the party,” Aidan whines.