“Look, Becca. Sleepless in Seattle’s on.”
One of my favorites. So we went over and sat down next to a woman with bright orange hair who looked like she was about forty-five and a younger guy, maybe Becca’s age. He and the woman with orange hair were watching the movie intensely and didn’t even look over at us when we sat down. His arms were completely sleeved with tattoos, his ears were pierced about a million times, and he had long, black hair, almost to his shoulders, that he kept brushing out of his eyes. I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye, trying not to seem obvious.
It was the scene towards the end of the movie where Tom Hanks’s character realizes his eight-year-old son has bought an airplane ticket and is on his way to New York to meet Meg Ryan on top of the Empire State Building. I just love it. It’s, of course, usually way too mushy and romantic for Becca, but she sat quietly next to me watching. I gave her one of the KIT KAT bars from my purse that I’d brought for her, and she devoured it like she’d been stranded on a desert island and hadn’t seen chocolate in a very long time.
When the movie finished, visiting time was over.
“I’ve gotta go now, Becca.”
I gave her shoulder a little squeeze, and she felt fragile and small, almost like she was empty on the inside. I waited in the reception area for Mom to pick me up. As I watched a girl in a Hello Kitty shirt talking to the woman with bright orange hair, it struck me how I never would have thought I’d find myself in a situation like this.
Sometimes life can be really strange.
October 17 -
Chad, My Hero
In English class, I was hopelessly behind. Our Macbeth papers were due Monday, and I really hadn’t even started mine.
I heard Mr. Selden say in his monotone voice, “They’re worth thirty percent of your grade this quarter, so please put some effort into them. And don’t forget, I want notecards and footnotes. Don’t disappoint me, people.”
Notecards? Footnotes? Apparently either he went over everything while I was absent or I really hadn’t been paying attention. It figured, the way things had been going.
I turned around to Daria, who’s usually on top of things, and asked, “What notecards?”
She looked at me as if I’d grown scales all over my green body.
“He wants us to cite our references and put them on notecards, Stacy.”
She might as well have gone, “Duh, idiot.”
“Ugh. I’m so not prepared for this. What is a notecard again?”
“If you want, I can come over and help you tonight,” she offered nicely.
While that might sound like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, the thing is, Daria’s kind of a freak. I mean, we’re sort of friends. She’s not bad-looking at all—pretty hair, pretty smile, white perfect teeth—but she’s got this monobrow thing going on and a healthy mustache, and when she’s not doing her homework or practicing with the volleyball team, she’s fantasizing about running away with Coach Rob.
Coach Rob is young for a teacher. I’d put him at maybe thirty, but according to Daria, he’s twenty-nine. How she knows this, I have no idea, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have broken into the school office one night dressed in her black ninja suit, found his personnel file, copied it, and then taped the different pages to her bedroom wall. She probably has a little Coach Rob doll that she sticks pins into while mumbling love spell incantations.
It’s not like the coach is ridiculously handsome or anything, but who can explain why people develop their obsessions? One day he casually dropped the fact that he was engaged. (Or maybe not so casually. He probably wanted her to back the hell off.) Daria was utterly crushed, really devastated for a couple of days, but she bounced back and convinced herself that it would never last, that his fiancée couldn’t possibly love him the way she did.
So I was caught in a dilemma: I definitely needed help on my paper, but did I really want Daria knowing where I lived?
I could tell Chad was eavesdropping on our conversation. He was giving me a raised-eyebrow look like, “Do you really want her help?”
I screamed out for him to help me with my eyes. And just in case he didn’t get it, I mouthed the words “Help me” when Daria wasn’t looking.
“You know, Stacy, didn’t you have that thing you had to do tonight? You know, with your mom?”
Chad, my hero.
“Um, yeah, that’s right. Shoot. I can’t get together tonight, Daria. I’ll just have my mom help me.”
Daria kind of gave a little shrug of her shoulders like “It’s your funeral” and went back to her letter to Coach Rob. I looked over at Chad and mouthed “Thank you.” He was practically doubled over with laughter.
At the end of class, as I was walking out, he caught up to me.
“Stacy, wait up.”
“Hey, thanks for helping me out with Daria. I’m so screwed on this paper. You know, I’ve barely even started it.”
“I can come over and help, if you want,” Chad said so casually, like it was absolutely no inconvenience to him at all. “I’ll bring what I have and show you what I’ve got.”
“That would be awesome. You’re a sweetheart.”
He had this great, big, mouth-full-of-braces smile.
“I’ve got an appointment after school, but I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Great.”
And we walked to lunch together until horrible Vanessa saw him and called him over. He gave me a little “See ya,” and I hunted for Rose and Bethany, feeling that little twinge. My old friend jealousy was back.
Me jealous? Nah, it couldn’t be. Except I couldn’t help but wonder a little how things would have turned out between the two of us though, if I’d just given him a chance. Oh, and if he wasn’t such a terrible bad kisser.
At lunch, Rose and Bethany and I ate:
• 1 burrito
• 1 mini pizza
• 2 orders of chili cheese fries
• 3 Dr Peppers
Then we all talked about how we’ll be starting our diets tomorrow. Rose and Bethany looked for their crushes as usual. And snake-y Anthony—who I hadn’t spoken to or had a real conversation with in weeks—walked by and looked right at me.
“Hey, Stacy. How’s it goin’?” (Not said all in one word, but enunciated.)
I felt the little rush of excitement. My heart started beating faster. In spite of everything, I said, “Hi, Anthony!” giving him a big, dorky smile like a complete goofball, hoping secretly that he’d stop and talk to me, but he didn’t. He didn’t even slow down. Bethany poked me in the side.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you being nice to him?”
“Because I’m a pathetic loser? Because I’m waiting—waiting—for him to give me any kind of sign, anything at all, the slightest crumb?”
Rose didn’t say anything, just kind of looked down. She didn’t need to say anything; I could tell what she was thinking.
Bethany said, “Oh, Stacy. You could do so much better. You know that.”
“If you haven’t noticed, the boys aren’t exactly knocking down my door. Well, pervy old guys maybe.”
The truth is, my heart was still broken. If Anthony were to say, “Stacy, can I call you sometime?” Or, “Stacy, wanna go to the movies?” I’d say “okay” in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even have to think about it, pathetic as it sounds. But that’s just the way it is when you’re a fool in love. Or maybe just a fool.
October 17, Later -
Waiting
At home, I scooped up Charles as he came running to meet me and sat on the couch and thought about Anthony and Chad and wished that I could combine the two, or at least have the feelings that I have for Anthony for Chad, or that Anthony liked me as much as Chad did. But Chad was coming over, so that must be a sign that he still had feelings for me. Right?
I sat with Charles and waited. When Chad called, he sounded extra upbeat.
“Still want me to come over?”
“Yes, of
course.”
“Okay then. See you in a few.”
The living room was a mess, so I started tidying it up a little but not too much. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—that I’d actually cleaned for him. And I got ready, but it’s not like I cared what I looked like. I cleared the papers and glasses off of the kitchen table to give us somewhere to work, and then the doorbell rang.
There he was—all smiles, no braces. I stood there with my mouth gaping open. He’d been wearing them so long, I seriously couldn’t remember what he looked like without them.
And what he looks like without them is: handsome.
I must have looked like quite the goofball with my open mouth because he just stood there in the doorway laughing at me.
“Oh my God! Chad, you look amazing!”
And he really did, too. He had the biggest smile I’d ever seen. Really handsome. And he looked taller somehow. I don’t know how he got taller suddenly. Maybe he was more confident, so he was standing up straighter.
“What the heck happened to you? I can’t see from the glare of your beautiful, white teeth.” (I held my hand over my eyes like a dork.)
“I know, I thought I’d have these on forever.” He was grinning this big grin. “So what do you think? How handsome am I?”
“Really handsome.” No, really. “You look great, you really do.”
He was so cute, I just wanted to put him in my pocket. I gave him a hug without thinking. It was totally spontaneous, and if I’d thought about it first, it might have been all awkward, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.
He kind of stumbled back a little. (Now that was awkward.)
“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’m just so happy for you. Can I get you a beer? Wine? Martini? I think a celebration’s in order.”
“Uh, sure.” (He laughed at my lame attempt at humor.)
I got our Cokes, and we settled in to work at the kitchen table. He showed me his notecards and explained about getting references. Then we went online, and he brought up a couple of reference sites I could use as sources. The whole time, I was stealing glances at him and his new look, perfect smile and all. He really looked handsome.
While Chad read from one of the websites out loud, he caught me looking at him.
“You look so different. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare, but you really do.”
“Um, thanks.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets; his cheeks were red. I think he felt pretty amazing though. And it felt good to be the first person to get to see his new look besides his mom.
I was feeling all starry-eyed until he got a call.
“Hey. I’m just at a friend’s. So, are we still on for tonight?”
Obviously a girl. I could tell by the way he talked to her, the way he sounded all soft and gooey around the edges. But what did I care though? It’s not like I like him. I mean, I like him, but I don’t really like him. Anyway, we were just about done.
“So I’m gonna go. I’ve gotta show off my new look.”
And he flashed another braces-free smile. I was tempted to tell him to say hi to horrible Vanessa for me, but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was being petty and small.
“Thanks so much, Chad. You’re a lifesaver.”
“So, going to the game?” he asked.
I’d forgotten. Another Friday night, another football game. And the last one was so much fun.
I took a deep breath, tried not to be too awkward, and told him quietly, “Um, I’m going to visit Becca tonight.”
He looked surprised—I guess maybe not everybody in the whole school heard about Becca and the lunch ladies—so I attempted to explain the situation in as few words as possible.
“She had a little incident at school the other day.”
He raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t ask me to explain because he’s nice that way, not pushy for details like I am. “She’s in a group home for people with mental illnesses. And she’ll be there for a little while. But it’s okay. She’s really doing well.”
I was trying to sound convincing and convince myself too, I think.
Chad’s look was like pity and surprise mixed together.
“I’m so sorry, Stacy. I had no idea.”
And he did really seem sorry.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” I told him, but his kindness had caught me off guard, and I felt the little knot in my throat again. And before I knew it, tears started to come to the surface. I tried to wipe them away, but Chad saw and looked down. He was quiet, like he didn’t know what to say to me. He just kept his head down as he got his things together.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going now.”
I opened the door for him as he walked out.
“Hey, Chad, have a good time tonight.”
He turned and gave me a little Chad smile. “You too. Say hi to Becca for me, okay?”
I nodded back at him. “I will.”
I closed the door, then kind of slumped against it.
I wish Chad wasn’t such a nice guy.
October 18 -
Hardly Working
Roman picked me up for work. It had been almost a week since Becca had gone to Brooksi18, and his car was more of a disaster than ever. Does he live in it? What the heck, Roman! After you eat the banana, throw out the peel so it doesn’t turn black and disgusting!
Work: mostly me answering the phone, taking messages, and putting people on hold. I tried not to be a total spaz about it so Sylvia wouldn’t glare at me while she was on the other line.
I still haven’t figured out exactly what Roman “does.” He seems to spend all his time on the computer, most likely playing games or goofing off on anime websites.
No customers, so Sylvia put the little “Closed, Be Back in 15 Minutes!” sign on the door to do some errands.
Roman was looking all mopey, so I decided to harass him.
Me: “Roman.”
Roman: “What?”
Me: “Roman.”
Roman: “What?”
Me: “Hey, Roman.”
Roman: “What?”
Me: “Nothing.”
He threw a wadded-up piece of paper at my head. I flicked a big paper clip at him. He shot a rubber band back at me.
We warred.
Luckily Sylvia came back as Roman was just about to throw a small stapler at me.
“What’re you two doing?” (Sylvia looked a little peeved. The floor was covered in office debris.)
We cleaned. Sylvia turned on the radio and started dancing to “Pretty Woman.”
Roman cringed with the pain that comes from watching your egg-shaped mother dancing in a purple muumuu.
Sylvia brought back empanadas for lunch. They were ridiculous, and we ate them in about three seconds. After lunch, she kicked us out to cause havoc somewhere else.
I have now made a total of $105. I shall retire. When I’m ninety-eight.
October 31 -
Halloween’s Scary Clowns
I put a little warlock’s hat on Charles that I’d made out of black felt with a little gold ribbon for the band. He wore it for about two seconds, then flicked it off with his paw. It was too bad, too, because I planned to dress as a witch to give out candy. He could have been my little warlock cat.
Mom took me to see Becca and drop off some candy for their party. Halloween—big holiday for the goths. Roman went as the Mayor of Halloweentown, which was funny. Roman’s more of a “Jack Skellington” type. Becca was ragdoll Sally, which was actually perfect.
When we got to Brookside, I saw Arm Tattoo Guy dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow. He was talking to a giant penguin and a scarecrow, which sounds like a joke, but it isn’t. It was a perfect look for him, especially with his eyebrow piercing. He wore a big, gold hoop earring in his ear and a red bandanna wrapped around his head. He was a very good-looking pirate—hot actually—and caught me gawking at him like a goober, but he just smiled.
When we got home, I made my e
yebrows dark, shaping them into these diabolical-looking angry lines, and then blacked out a tooth with some of Becca’s stage makeup from her drama class. Witch hat and a few strings of beads, and I became a scary witch (without a warlock cat).
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