“It’s not fair.” She blinks, her dark eyes wide with concern. She does her deep in thought, nervous habit of rearranging her bangs over her slightly too big forehead. It’s a habit she’s had since we were little kids and she’d get nervous around boys she had crushes on or when she thought her parents were mad at her.
I shrug again. “Just going to try and push through and not think about it. I need to talk to Ms. Hudson ASAP anyway. I missed the Get Up and Go trip and I need to find out if there’s any way for me to be back in the running.”
“Damn. I forgot about that.” She frowns. “And how’s Danny today?”
“Better.”
“Good. Hudson will come through for you—”
“Jazz?” Sebastian’s deep voice cuts through our conversation and I’m all bottom-falling-out-of-the-earth inside. But I turn around.
“May I help you?” I lace my voice with about ten tons of sarcasm as I cross my arms. But the arm crossing? It’s barely holding me together.
Frankie takes a step back, her gaze darting between us. Again with the bangs being rearranged.
“How’s Danny?” he asks, all genuine too. And don’t get me wrong, Sebastian does care about my family. But I’m not falling back under his emotional spell.
“What do you want, Seb?”
“I want to know how your brother is.” He has the nerve to say it incredulously, too, as if my refusing to tell him about my brother’s hospital stay is me being a jerk. Even him mentioning my brother’s name starts a low boil in me. He may have been part of my life, part of my family, for close to a year, but he’s not now. So he doesn’t get that right to know how any of us are doing.
“How’s your new girlfriend?” I retort. My nerves are like jumping jacks on speed but I keep my face as blank as possible.
The color drains from his face and while my heart still feels like it’s gone ten rounds in a boxing ring and lost every one, I have to admit, seeing him squirm feels pretty damn good.
Sebastian looks left and right. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”
I realize he’s right about me sort of making a scene. People are watching, even if they’re pretending not to.
“Why?” I cock my head and pretend to be innocent.
He rubs a hand down his face, his expression changing from worried to plain old pissed. “Grow up, Jasmine. You know, you never gave me hardly more than a kiss. What did you expect?” He turns around and storms off.
My insides are in full earthquake mode. I turn back to my locker and dig through random piles of stuff on the bottom shelf to keep me busy and hidden. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope no one heard what he said.
“How dare he! Is he even for real?”
“Don’t,” I answer. I can’t listen to Frankie, or anyone else’s, sympathy. If I’m going to keep myself together, I need to create a new reality. One in which Sebastian Young never even existed.
“I need to go see Ms. Hudson. Catch you at lunch?”
Frankie puts a hand on my forearm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine!” When I smile as big as I can, Frankie’s eyes narrow. I’m not fooling her.
She nods slowly. “Yep. See you then. Besties?”
“Forever,” I reply.
MS. HUDSON SHARES an office with the band director. Being the teeny school that we are—our junior class has like 65 people in it—a lot of the extracurriculars have been cut, or at the very least, pared down to almost nothing. I’m actually kind of in shock that television and radio electives still exist considering they’ve toyed with cutting so many other programs, but, Ms. Hudson fights for us, and her ties to some of the New York radio stations give Easton High a bit of prestige, or something like that.
Let’s hope those ties give me an in, too.
Have I mentioned how much I need that internship?
I knock softly.
When Ms. Hudson opens her door, I’m instantly filled with the everything-is-going-to-be-fine feeling she almost always gives me. Which doesn’t even really make sense, considering my life is a big ole pile of everything-is-not-fine-at-all.
She’s wearing one of her typical outfits, and I don’t mean that in a mean way. It’s just that Ms. Hudson is kind of stuck in the clothes of her heyday, the 80s, and that whole era has some strange looking stuff. Like today’s outfit, a leatherette pencil skirt and an off the shoulder pink shirt. Her earrings have the circumference of a soda can but they complement her face well. Her blond hair is pulled back today, highlighting her heart shaped face. I mean, she’s obviously older, but you can tell she was one of those kind of dorky, but cute girls when she was younger. She ushers me into her office, which, like I said, she shares with the band director. So it’s half his stuff and some of hers. I look at the photos on the wall, like always. Ms. Hudson with some of the biggest radio names of the 80s and 90s. I sigh and fall into my seat.
“You look terrible!” she says.
Oh yeah, Ms. Hudson is really blunt too.
I don’t even know where to start. Tears suddenly burn my eyes and I try to blink them away.
“I’m sorry,” I say, swiping a finger under my eyes. “Monday was pure hell and I can’t even believe I missed the Get Up and Go trip. Have I lost all hope of applying for the internship?”
Ms. Hudson purses her lips. “We’ll see what we can do. I had a feeling something horrible had gone on. You aren’t one to miss school for no reason and I know how excited you were for that trip.”
“Beyond excited,” I sniffle.
“So what happened?”
I launch into the whole sordid tale. Because I can be totally honest with Ms. Hudson, I even tell her about the girl I found with Sebastian. By the time I get through the hospital ride, my mom getting called into work and my sitting bedside with Danny all night, her face has fallen into an extreme look of pity, her mouth turned down in that deep frown she gets when she’s particularly sad or upset, with her eyes crinkling and studying me like I’m a problem that needs solving. Pity is one thing I definitely do not want. I can handle myself.
“So anyway,” I say, fighting my voice to regain some strength. “As you can see, missing the WYN60 trip and internship application thing was way out of my control. If there is any way possible for me to still go for it, I would pretty much do anything to at least try.”
Ms. Hudson scrolls through her iPhone, pretty much the only proof in her life that the eighties are in fact over. “Many of the folks that were in the business when I left are now retired, but I do know the producer really well. She’s the one who set up Monday’s trip. I’ll text her now and see if I can call her after school. Will you be available if she wants to conference you in?”
My body thrums with instant joy at even the hope of this phone call happening.
“Of course! Let me know.”
She pulls me into a tight hug. “Everything will work out for you, Jasmine. Even if it doesn’t feel like it now. This is a hard time for you, but you’re one of the strongest girls I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach.”
My eyes burn again.
The crackle of the intercom system makes me jump. Wow, I’m on freaking edge.
“Jasmine Torres, please come to the office. Jasmine Torres to the office.”
A loud groan escapes me and I swallow the lump in my throat.
What the hell now?
5
I READ GUIDANCE counselor Mr. Fielding’s scrawled message a few times. Naturally, it’s from my mother. God. I crumple the note in my fist and toss it in the office garbage can on my way out. Apparently she got called into work early, for the afternoon shift, so she wants me to be home in time for Danny’s bus. So she called to excuse me early. I mean, seriously? I’ve been out for two days and now leaving early? There goes my possible call with Ms. Hudson and the radio people.
I’m two parts blood boiling and one part close to tears. Is there anything she doesn’t manage to ruin?
I’m still brooding as I
make my way to my next class. I’ll have to find a second between classes to tell Ms. Hudson to pick a different time for the call. This sucks.
I yawn through all my morning classes, but luckily, most of the teachers leave me alone. At lunchtime, I realize I forgot to pack lunch or bring money just as I’m reaching the cafeteria. I scrounge up two dollars from the bottom of my backpack and get in line for a bagel.
As I’m walking toward the courtyard with my bagel bag and milk, my eyes scan the room. Frankie is nowhere to be seen, which is no surprise. She has gym before lunch and with the amount of makeup and perfectly coordinated outfits Frankie wears, she takes a long time to get put back together. I push the door open and step into the warm day. I settle under the biggest tree—a magnolia. It’s green now, the flowers all gone, but it’s still my favorite. The courtyard is the best place to eat. The tables that line the large area are already filled, and more than a few people lounge under some of the other shade trees. But no Frankie yet.
As I’m unwrapping the bagel and opening the book we’re reading in English—The Invisible Man, which, I have to admit, is pretty good—my mouth almost drops open when I hear a squeaky, syrupy-sweet voice.
“Give it back!”
It’s her.
My head whips to the side, my gaze sweeping the courtyard. Great. And him. There they are, Sebastian and mystery girl, sitting at one of the side tables, her lying on the bench with her head in his lap, looking up at him. He smiles down at her and tweaks her nose.
Puke.
I turn my back to them, letting my hair fall like a curtain to hide my face, which feels like it’s on fire. Breathe, Jasmine. Don’t cry.
So basically, he had the nerve to come up to me at my locker this morning and act like he gave a crap about me or my family, and now here he is with her? Appetite gone, I shove the bagel back in the bag and lean against the tree trunk, studying my book as if it’s got the answers to my life scrawled on its pages. I’m not about to leave this courtyard. I’m certainly not being driven out by them. I blink furiously against my gathering tears, thankful for my dark sunglasses.
Eleven months. That’s how long we dated. I mean, he was my first boyfriend, first kiss. I think of his comment this morning. So what if we never got as far physically as Sebastian always wanted to go? Is that really a reason to find someone else? Whatever. Looks like I made the right decision about that after all. Shallow bastard. My heart is wrung out just thinking about how much I cared about him, that I thought I maybe even loved him. Never again will I trust someone so quickly.
When Frankie finally steps outside, swinging her bright paisley lunch bag, her eyebrows go so high, they’re completely hidden under her bangs.
“Really?” She practically yells. Frankie does not know the meaning of an inside voice. She flops down on the grass next to me. “Is he even serious right now?”
Still yelling.
“Shhhh. Can we not alert every single person out here to the awkwardness of the situation?”
“As if it’s not obvious?”
“Fantastic. Really.” I groan.
“I’m just saying!”
“Shhhhh! Please stop. I know you’re trying to help, but talking about him makes me want to throw up.” I lie back on the grass, resting my open book on my chest. I flip my glasses back down over my eyes. “Who is she, anyway?” I whisper.
“She’s a freshman, I think? I’m pretty sure she is the youngest of the Lanes.”
“Ah, I can kind of see the resemblance.” The Lane family has a zillion kids, which until now I had thought were all boys, all of which already graduated.
“I think her name is Alexa. I’m pretty sure she runs on the cross country team. Don’t worry, I’ll dig for more. Please tell me she isn’t the one. Is she?” She flops down on the grass next to me and lowers her voice. “The one, one? The one you found him with?”
I nod.
Please don’t let me throw up out here in front of everyone.
“Good God,” Frankie says. I turn toward her as she continues to shake her head. “Sebastian is an ass.”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously.” She unwraps her sandwich slowly and takes a bite. “She’s got nothing on you. She’s not even pretty. And listen to her. Obviously she’s annoying as hell.”
I groan. “Don’t bother to try to make me feel better.”
Frankie sighs. “I’m sorry. What else can I do? Let’s do something fun. Want to hang out after school?”
“Can’t. I have to be home for Danny.”
“Where’s Elena?”
Frankie is the only one who refers to my mom by her first name.
“Working.”
She bites her lip. Frankie doesn’t like to say bad stuff about my mom, but she knows me better than anyone so she knows what’s up. Frankie has known me since before my dad left even, so she remembers Mom before she was like this. Sometimes I think she feels the brunt of Mom’s demise almost as much as I do.
“I know, I know. I miss two days and now have to leave early. Not only that, but Hudson was going to try and conference me in to a call with WYN60 about the internship.” I sigh.
“Oh my God, you can’t miss—”
“I’ll tell her to move it,” I say. “It’s for Danny.”
She nods solemnly and looks out across the courtyard. More people spill onto the lawn, groups gathered in clumps on the grass and tables, laughing, joking, having fun in the admittedly perfect day. But of course I can’t enjoy a second of it.
Even though Sebastian and freshman girl are behind me, their presence burns into my back like some kind of laser beam of misery. It’s not even that I want to be the one giggling on his lap and looking up into his eyes, because I don’t. Even with my hurt feelings and squashed perceptions of what my relationship actually was, I can say honestly that I do not want him. I just want none of it to have happened. My heart is tattered and flapping in my very empty, endless cavern of a chest.
I squint into the sun and breathe as deeply as I can. Things will turn around soon. I know it.
6
AVOIDING SEBASTIAN GETS easier as the days and weeks pass. We still have our one class together, but I sit in the front row and pretend he doesn’t exist. I have no idea if he’s still seeing what’s her name, but I try to ignore the mere existence of my ex-boyfriend. Okay, ignore isn’t quite the right word considering the gashes on my heart feel like they are just starting to scab. But I’m doing a good impression of not caring and finding other stuff to think about.
It’s not all that hard to distract myself. I’m caught up in waiting for Ms. Hudson to come through with the radio interview. Since Mom made me miss my chance at the after school phone interview, Ms. Hudson has not been able to find a good time that works for the producer to talk with me. I went ahead and applied for it and sent in my preliminary broadcast clips, but it’s been two weeks since my should-have-been field trip and I’m no closer to getting my foot in the door at WYN60. It would be one thing if any of the other internships I applied for had even responded, but at this late stage in the game I’m pretty sure no news means bad news. Ms. Hudson and her connections are pretty much my only hope. Plus, come on, it’s WYN60.
I’m in my second-to-last period when I get called to the office. By the time I get downstairs my palms are sweaty and my breathing comes in short spurts. It’s been a few weeks and, I realize now, I’ve begun to let my guard down.
Please let Danny be okay.
The secretary at the front desk smiles at me. “Hello, Jasmine. Your mom left a phone message for you. No emergency, dear.”
Even with her kind words, I can’t turn off my racing fear, and I take the paper with shaking fingers.
I exhale as I read Mom’s note. She’s excusing me to leave early once again, to get home for Danny. She got called into work and I need to take him to his follow up at the neurologist.
Annoying how she thinks I can leave school whenever her schedule demands it. But
at least Danny is okay.
And besides, silver lining, at least she’s leaving me her car for the afternoon. I tuck the note into my pocket just as my cell phone buzzes. I duck into the bathroom to look at it. The cell phone rules aren’t as strict in the hall as they are in class, but I don’t want to take a chance so near the main office.
It’s a text from Ms. Hudson.
Good news! Call with WYN60 tomorrow morning. Can you come to school a little early?
My stomach leaps. This is amazing. Can I come early? Of course! I have to. Mom will have to handle things with Danny in the morning.
YES! I type back, unable to keep the smile from my face.
I LOVE DRIVING Mom’s car. It’s an old beat up thing, a hatchback Civic from like decades ago. But it has a good radio and, hey, it’s a car. After mostly walking, especially now that I’ve lost Sebastian as my ride most places, I’d drive a rusted out jalopy if it meant getting around.
Danny sits back in his booster seat, listening to his iPod. He bops his head and looks out the window, calmed as usual by his music. He’s quiet most of the ride and I navigate the roads that lead to his doctor’s office.
“It’s the Beatles, Jazzy!” Danny yells.
I smile absently as I stop at a red light. “Don’t yell, I can hear you even though your music is loud!”
“What?” He bobs his head and hums loudly. I wave away his question and watch him in the mirror. His blinks become slower, longer. He seems tired, like he almost always does after school. As long as that’s all it is. I turn onto the highway, distracted by my worry.
He nods off and is asleep by the time we reach the doctor’s office. He grudgingly climbs out of the car, dragging the toes of his sneakers along the sidewalk and down the long hallway inside.
“I don’t get why we have to come here again? Didn’t I just go to the hospital?” He crosses his arms and stops short in the hallway. “I’m sick of coming here.”
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. Cranky Danny is no good for any of us. And he’s right. He shouldn’t have to be here. But I don’t think a Life Is Unfair lecture is going to do any of us any good.
This Ordinary Life Page 4