Breaking Up Is Really, Really Hard to Do

by Natalie Standiford

  Sean struck the pose Mads had asked for. “We're a team first, individuals second. That's what the coach says, anyway. The team is the star of the team. Wait. Does that make sense?”

  Lina nodded. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

  “Can you flex your muscles, Sean?” Mads asked, snapping away with her digital camera. She stopped to demonstrate the pose she wanted: both arms out to the side, hands balled in fists, biceps flexed. Like Popeye after he's eaten his spinach.

  Sean took the Popeye pose, then added a Mr. Universe twist without even being asked. He began to ignore Lina's questions and play more and more to the camera—and right into Mads’ hands. He put his goggles over his eyes and made a pro-wrestler face. He took off his swim cap and shook out his hair. He raised his arms over his head like a champion.

  “I have a question for you,” Mads said. “I'm having a party in a couple of weeks, right after the Art Fair. It's like a post-show party. Can you come? You can bring as many friends as you want.”

  “After the Art Fair?” Sean paused in his posing to scan the crowded social schedule in his mind. “That's a Friday, right?”

  “Right,” Mads said. “It's going to be a great party.”

  “Sounds cool, but I can't. Alex is having a party that night, too,” Sean said. “I promised him I'd be there. You know how it is. Gotta support my peeps.”

  Mads almost dropped her camera. Alex Sipress was having a party the same night as hers? Alex was a senior and almost as popular as Sean. His party would drain all the cool people away from hers. There was no chance any cool people would come. Even the less-cool kids would choose Alex's over Mads’, if they had the option. Her big post-Art Fair celebration would be the loser party of the year.

  “I think I've got what I need,” Mads said. The news about Alex's party had temporarily dampened her enthusiasm for photography. She had plenty of good shots, anyway.

  “Great,” Lina said. “Thanks for the interview, Sean.”

  “But you didn't really ask me much,” Sean said. “Can you get a whole story out of that? You never even asked about my win in the 300-meter freestyle last week’ And what about all my summers on the country club team?”

  “I'll call you if I need more information,” Lina said. She pinched Mads and whispered, “Come on, let's get out of here.”

  The coach blew his whistle again and yelled, “Benedetto, are you ready to get your pretty little face wet yet? Get the hell in the water!”

  “Later, girls.” Sean padded across the cement. He stopped at the edge of the pool and turned around. “When's the story coming out?”

  “Um, soon,” Lina said. “We'll let you know.”

  “Cool.” He dove into the water. Mads and Lina hurried out of the Swim Center.

  “I might as well cancel my party right now,” Mads said. “Nobody will come.!”

  “I'll be there,” Lina said. “And Holly. And all your other friends.”

  “And you'll be wishing you were at Alex's the whole time,” Mads said. “I know I will be. We'll miss all the action!”

  “Mads, calm down. There's room for more than one party in this town.”

  “No, there isn't,” Mads said. “There aren't enough cool people to go around. The question is, How much of a draw could a party at my house be? Can I bring in the big guns? Can I put asses in the seats?”

  “Mads, what are you talking about?”

  “This is a true test of my social power, Lina,” Mads said. She couldn't win. And she knew it.

  13

  Crisis on Rutgers Street

  To: hollygolitely

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: Wear rubber-soled shoes—today will bring a shock.

  Do you think Barton Mitchell is cute?” Holly asked. She and Lina and Mads were coming out of a shop on Rutgers Street and heading for dinner at Ruby's, a café down the block. Mads and Lina had met her for a little shopping after the Sean photo session.

  “Why?” Mads asked. “What's wrong with Mo?”

  “Nothing's wrong with him, exactly,” Holly said. “We've only been out together once. I don't know if he's boyfriend material, though. Have you ever noticed how he sucks his teeth? Like this.” Holly put her tongue over her front teeth and made a squeaky sucking sound. “Not all the time. But it's not the kind of thing you like to hear, even once in a while.”

  Mads and Lina rolled their eyes at each other. “I saw that,” Holly said. “I know you guys think I'm too picky. But I'm actually being thoughtful. I don't want to get all tangled up with a guy if he's not right, only to hurt him later. That makes sense, doesn't it?”

  “It makes sense in a way,” Lina said. “But how can you tell how you really feel about someone unless you get all tangled up with him? Everybody's got irritating habits. If you let that stop you, you'll never find anybody you like.”

  They were coming up on the Carlton Bay Twin movie theater. One thing Holly liked about Carlton Bay was that it had no malls and no cineplexes. There was a big mall not too far out of town with a twelve-screen theater, but the old Carlton Bay Twin was still running right there on Rutgers Street, as it had been since the 1950s.

  The doors opened and people poured into the street. It was just before six, and the late afternoon show had just ended. Holly, Lina, and Mads wove through the crowd milling on the sidewalk.

  “We'd better get to Ruby's before this crowd does,” Holly said. Ruby's was a favorite post-movie spot.

  A couple exited the theater just ahead of them and started down the street. The boy had a familiar head of choppy brown hair. He wore a t-shirt that said HUG A LOGGER—YOU'LL NEVER GO BACK, TO TREES.

  Holly stopped in her tracks and grabbed each of her friends by the arm. “It's Rob.”

  And he was with a girl. Christie Hubbard, a freshman. They walked down the sidewalk in front of Holly, Lina, and Mads. Rob hadn't seen them. Christie said something to him, and he laughed.

  “What is he doing with her?” Holly cried. Her blood was speeding through her veins. She was surprised at her own reaction, but the minute she saw Rob she thought, He's mine. A fury of possessiveness seized her. Rob walking down the street with another girl—it was just wrong.

  “Maybe they're friends,” Lina said.

  “She's probably a lesbian,” Mads said.

  Holly squinted at Christie. She was a big-boned girl with curly blond hair, dressed in a full-skirted sundress. A lesbian? Wouldn't that be a little too convenient? “Mads, don't patronize me.”

  “Okay, calm down, Holly,” Lina said. “She probably asked Rob to go to a movie, you know, in that naive freshman girl way, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, and anyway, you just dumped him, so—”

  “Lina, you're not making me feel better,” Holly said.

  “She's just trying to tell you not to panic,” Mads said. “You don't know that there's anything to worry about yet.”

  But as soon as the words came out of her mouth, Christie gave them something to worry about. Something very definite. A crystal clear signal.

  She threw her arms around Rob and gave him a big, wet kiss. And he didn't stop her. In fact, he seemed to like it.

  Holly froze. Every organ in her body turned to ice. No. It couldn't be. How could he be kissing another girl?

  “Oh. My. God,” Mads gasped.

  “I don't believe it,” Holly said. “He has another girlfriend? Already?”

  Rob and Christie broke apart, nuzzled noses, then kissed again. Holly pressed herself against the wall of the movie theater so they wouldn't see her, in case they turned around. But there didn't seem to be much danger of that. They were in a world of their own.

  Rob and Christie started down the street again, hand in hand. Tears welled up in Holly's eyes. Her own reaction shocked her. She'd had no idea she felt so attached to Rob.

  “Holly? Are you okay?” Lina asked.

  “Why are you so upset?” Mads said. “I thought you didn't like him anymore.”<
br />
  “I was wrong,” Holly said. “I made a mistake. A big mistake. I want Rob back.”

  And that's how you know if he's “it,” Holly realized. When it breaks your heart to see him with someone else.

  14

  A Proposition

  To: linaonme

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: When did you become such a big-risk-taker, Cancer? I miss the scaredy-cat you used to be. Bet you'll be back to hiding under the covers soon.

  Dear Lara,

  So, you're working on your first screenplay! Very exciting! You must be flattered that Steven Spielberg asked you to let him read it. How far along have you gotten? What's it about? I'd love to read it when you're finished, if that's okay. You're so lucky to be so talented and doing what you love. You'll be famous by the time you're thirty, I bet. Maybe even twenty-five!

  Things are chugging along slowly here. I just got out of an endless teachers’ meeting about some big new test the State of California is inflicting on us. That Rod sure knows how to talk on and on about nothing. Camille passed me a note that said, “Good thing I've got life insurance because Rod is boring me to death.” Her notes are the only thing that keep me from dozing off in those meetings.

  I understand why you haven't sent me your picture yet. At least I think I do. But that makes my next request all the more difficult. I hope you won't feel pressured by this. But Lara, Larissa, I'd really love to meet you in person. I can tell from the way we write to each other that we'd talk for hours, so easily, and at the very least we could be effortless friends. No pressure—you're completely free to say no, of course, and if you do I'll still be thrilled just to know you online, as a virtual friend. But if you're curious about me and are feeling brave, here's what I propose: Meet me for lunch. You pick the place, somewhere you feel comfortable. I'd be glad to come into the city and meet you somewhere. What do you think? We've been writing to each other for weeks now. To me it feels right. But you do what's best for you. I promise I'll understand, whatever you decide.

  Well, guess I'd better get back to grading papers. These days I seem to live from e-mail to e-mail; you are more real to me than anything else in my life right now. Good night, Larissa. I'll see you in my dreams…Beau

  Once Lina recovered from her nightly Beauregard swoon, she started to panic. This was it. The chance she'd been waiting for—and terrified of.

  She'd ignored the request for a photo, and he'd never repeated it. She thought she was getting away with something. But now he wanted to meet her. And she wanted to have lunch with him more than anything. Imagine sitting at a table with him, looking into his eyes, being on a real date with him at last! But how could she do it? What would he do when he saw her and understood the truth?

  This was serious. Ultra-serious. Now more than ever she had to keep the whole Beau thing secret, even from Holly and Mads. Especially if she met him for lunch. Oh god, should she do it? She was dying to go. How could she live with herself, after all she'd been through with him, if she never found out what would happen? Now that he'd seen how mature she could be—she'd been impersonating a grad student, after all—and he was half in love with her, maybe he'd finally understand that they were really meant for each other. Age didn't matter. The difference between them wasn't even that huge. Ten years—nothing! If he were ninety and she were eighty, nobody would bat an eyelash.

  All right, she decided. I'm going to do it. I've got to do it. I have no choice. This is my big chance to get together with the guy I've been dreaming about all year long! How can I let it slip away?

  Then her thoughts turned practical. She had to choose a place to meet. He was expecting to meet her in the city, which was good—the chances of someone they knew spotting them there were small. The trouble was, she didn't know the city that well. Where should they meet?

  She went online and searched a Web site that listed San Francisco restaurants. Nothing too fancy or expensive—that would turn Dan off. He'd said he didn't want a high-maintenance girl, and Lina wasn't one anyway. But still, she didn't want the biggest moment of her life to take place at some grimy old coffee shop. It had to be romantic.

  Then she came across a place that sounded perfect. The Garden Restaurant, with a leafy back garden, moderate prices, and open for lunch, right downtown.

  Dear Beauregard,

  Thanks for asking about my screenplay. It's going well. I'll tell you all about it when we meet.

  Yes, I've decided that you are right—it's time for us to meet. I know you think I have this glamorous life, but your e-mails are better than grad school or parties or watching movies or the best book. I live for them. And I'm very curious to meet you. I hope you won't be disappointed when you see me. I don't know what you think I'm like in person, but I might not be what you expect.

  Are you free this Saturday? We could meet at a place I know downtown called the Garden at one o'clock. If that's all right with you, just let me know.

  Well, I'd better get back to my writing. I can't wait until our lunch!

  Larissa

  She re-read it, then pressed SEND. Now all she had to do was find a way to sneak into the city without anyone knowing. She got up and paced her room. She was going to have a tough time sleeping that night. At last, a date with Dan! She'd been dreaming of this moment for months. What should she wear? Should she do something with her hair, maybe put it up?

  But her happiness was tempered with nervousness, and even fear. What would happen when he found out the truth? Would he embrace her? Would he be angry? Would he give in and realize she was meant for him—or would she lose him forever?

  15

  Admirer

  To: mad4u

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: You like to meddle, don't you? The stars tell me you're going to do it no matter what I say, so knock yourself out.

  Why are you drawing Stephen's face on Sean's body?” Holly asked Mads. She had come up to the art room to hang out for a few minutes before she went home for the day. The Art Fair was only a week away and Mads was working on her project every afternoon.

  “You think it looks like Stephen?” Mads said. “It's not supposed to.” She showed Holly the digital beefcake shot of Sean she'd chosen to work from. It was the Popeye, show-me-your-biceps one. Holly burst out laughing.

  “You're going to draw him like that? He looks so—so—so—”

  “What?” Mads said. “This one had the most interesting composition. The arms give it symmetry but the way he's turned toward the camera adds depth—”

  “Who cares about that? What I'm saying is he looks like a cartoon character.”

  “You think? I don't know. I don't like to judge the picture until it's finished/’ Mads said. “You never know how it's going to turn out in the end. But I don't want his face to look like Stephen's. That's weird.” She set the sketch aside. “I'll come back to that one. I think I'll work on you for a while.”

  “I can't stay long,” Holly said. “I've got to go home and sob silently into my pillow.”

  Mads put down her pastel crayon. She'd seen Rob arid Christie earlier that day, holding hands between classes. She wasn't about to tell Holly, though. Holly was a wreck. All she could think about and all she could talk about was Rob. How stupid she was to give him up. How she couldn't believe he found another girlfriend so fast. How she had to find a way to get him to forgive her and take her back, if it wasn't too late.

  “Holly, you'll get him back,” Mads said. She didn't know what else to tell her. Why wouldn't Holly get Rob back, or anybody she wanted, for that matter? Holly was ten times prettier, smarter, and cooler than Christie. Mads didn't really know Christie, but it had to be true. “Or you'll get a new guy. A better guy. That was what you wanted in the first place, remember?”

  “I know,” Holly said.

  “And Rob is still wearing those dumb t-shirts,” Mads reminded her. “Today he was wearing one that said INSTA
NT SWIMMER—JUST ADD WATER.”

  Holly smiled sadly. “That's so adorable.”

  “That's not what you would have said a few days ago,” Mads said.

  “Everything seems different now. How long did he wait until he found a new girlfriend? One day?” She paused to take a deep breath. “All right, I'm getting verklempt. I'll get out of here and let you work,” Holly said. “IM me when you get home.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  Stephen walked in just as Holly was leaving. “Hi,” she said to him.

  “Hi,” he said. “Going so soon?”

  Going so soon? That wasn't something Stephen would normally say. Maybe it was something he said when he had a crush on somebody.

  “Got to let the genius do her thing,” Holly said. She left, and Stephen walked over to his work area. “Howdy, Mads,” he said. “How's it going?”

  “Good,” she said. She studied the photo of Holly and compared it to what she'd drawn so far. Holly looked so beautiful in the photograph. If only Mads could capture that shiny-eyed, confident quality in her drawing, the portrait of Holly would be one of her best pieces.

  She clipped her drawing to the easel and concentrated on Holly's eyes. She was so focused she didn't realize Stephen was watching until he said, “That's a great picture, Mads. Really beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Mads said.

  He picked up the photo to compare with the drawing. ‘This photograph is beautiful too,” he said. “She almost looks Pre-Raphaelite, with all that golden hair.”

  Pre-Raphaelite? Mads didn't ask. She assumed it was good.

  He put the picture down and stared at the drawing some more. “That's going to be a breakthrough for you, Mads. I can tell. Look at the expression in her eyes. It's—it's lovely.”

  Lovely? Mads watched Stephen's face. Was he talking about the portrait—or about Holly?

  Look at the way he's staring at her picture, Mads thought. She felt a little pinch of disappointment. Why didn't anyone ever look at her that way?