“Nana rallied for Roe v. Wade. She’s raised funds for unplanned pregnancy centers. Even though she’s old as sin now, she still fights for body autonomy. Talking to her removed this weight from my shoulders. I no longer had some great responsibility to keep my body pure for my future husband. I don’t even know if I want to get married or have kids or anything like that. So my body, my choice.”
We chatted for a while longer. I hadn’t grown up with guidelines one way or the other when it came to being intimate with a partner. Mom had never discouraged me or encouraged me from having relations. I mean, we joked about boys and sex, but we’d only talked about it seriously once or twice. Mom had let me in on the great secret of the mechanics of things, but she’d refused to inform my own feelings with her personal thoughts. I realized that mom had been a sort of Nana. She’d allowed me authority over my mind.
Near the end of the terrible movie, the front doorbell rang. “Food time!” Sasha cheered happily, clapping her hand over her stomach. I popped up off the sofa and got the money from the kitchen, stealing four dollars from the cookie jar atop the fridge for the tip since we’d ordered something pricier than pizza.
The last thing I expected when I went to pay for the food was Aiden on the other side of the door.
“Oh,” I stammered awkwardly. “Hi. I didn’t know you delivered food.”
He held a large paper bag in one hand, pen and receipt in the other. He lifted the latter hand and rubbed the side of his head nervously. He was sweating a little, the late afternoon sun still too warm for comfort without shade. “Yeah, I work a few jobs. Saving up for college.”
Ugh. So he’s thoughtful, smart, gorgeous, and saving for the future. Why are you so freaking perfect and why did you have to send those stupid texts!
“Listen, I know I said I needed some time to adjust, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends in the meantime, right?” I smiled at him.
“Sure, sure.” He seemed to hesitate, thinking. “So you said you needed time?”
My forehead wrinkled, wondering why he was acting like he didn’t remember. Maybe he didn’t. I mean… if his first crazy texts were any indication. “Yeah, I said let’s not date or anything, at least for now. I want to adjust to school.”
“Right, right,” he spoke quickly. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” He handed me the receipt and after I’d signed, traded me for the food.
“Yeah, no problem. Let’s sit together at lunch tomorrow. Yeah?” I shifted my weight from one foot to another, itching to close the door.
“Sure, sounds great,” he mumbled.
As soon as he turned away, I backed up and shut the entry. “Holy awkward,” I breathed out, closing my eyes and leaning against the door.
“Holy shit, awkward,” Sasha’s voice sounded from nearby. I opened my eyes to find her standing in the doorway between the hall and living room. “Better to get it over now, rather than in school for everyone to see though. God that smells good.” Sasha walked forward and stole the food bag from my grip. “Take a second and realign yourself. Then get your butt in here and load up on food so I’m not the only one looking like a gluttonous lard butt.”
It took me more than a second to feel emotionally ready to move, but when I did, I steeled my shoulders and decided that boys weren’t the priority. Screw Drake. Screw Aiden. Screw all of them.
I wanted to stuff my face with smothered burritos and revel in sisterhood.
11.
T A R R Y N
For the next few weeks, I focused on my classes and growing friendship with Sasha. I stuck to my ‘forget boys’ mentality. Thankfully, my transcripts came through and I was transferred into advanced classes—which meant more Aiden, and less Drake. I aced quizzes, ran every night, tried out for cross-country after all (and made the team, though I’d probably not participate in an event until spring because I was second string).
Aiden and I were casual-cool, exchanging class notes and talking about science articles we’d read. Sometimes the conversation took a left turn and he surprised me—with his favorite artists and music, how he’d visited the Louvre when he was ten and bled through the entire thing because no one noticed his ankle had been cut somehow. In those moments, he seemed wild and worldly. I liked that we had so much in common, but those moments of differentness drew me in like twine through a spinning wheel. The law stuff was great; I admired his single-minded dedication to upending the legal system. But the other stuff… I loved.
And, thank goodness, his physical appeal had smoldered down to embers instead of a ‘kiss me now’ flame. I didn’t think about the possibility of his lips against mine every five minutes. Maybe… every ten minutes instead.
Taking time to get used to everything had been the right move.
Well-freaking-adjusted should be my superhero name.
And then it was Friday of the fourth week of school and my phone pinged while I was studying. A message notification… so innocuous on its own accord… and I realized I’d just been kidding myself.
Forget boys. Forget boys?
It was like forgetting to breathe if you happened to be a never-been-really-kissed heterosexual seventeen-year-old girl.
Aiden: I wanted to ask you today, but I didn’t. I can’t tell if you’ve friend-zoned me or not. **wink emoticon**
It was the first time he’d messaged me since I’d asked for time to adjust. We’d only stuck to school interactions. It was silly to be thrilled he’d written. I’d just seen him at school. He’d mentioned a new study that introduced anti-viruses into cell communities using artificial protein shells. I’d literally been reading about the study the night before.
Hey, Aiden. I’m glad we’re able to be friends, but Erase. Erase. How could someone as smart as me be so easily-twisted up when it came to a cute boy with a Denzel smile and Fresh Prince eyes? I’d been okay these days, hanging out with Sasha and Aiden and some of their extended friends. “Light and breezy,” I told myself out loud. “Just keep it light and freaking breezy.” So…being friends has been nice.
He wrote almost immediately. Aiden: It has been. But…
But what?
Aiden: Do you think maybe you’ve had enough time to decide if you want more?
I worried my lower lip so fiercely that I felt an odd metallic taste in my mouth. I’d bitten so hard with my teeth that I’d drawn blood. “You’re a hormonal idiot,” I sighed out, putting the phone down on my open math book. “Do I want more?” Standing up, I paced around my room, avoiding the mirror and my own reflection. I really liked Aiden, but maybe not as intensely as I first had. He’d explained the text messages in depth, actually. How he’d gotten drunk, more so than he’d ever been because he never went to gatherings like the lake party, and he’d started thinking of his ex-girlfriend who’d broken up with him for another guy. It had torn him up for a while. And then he’d decided to focus on school and getting into college.
It all made sense.
But it still bothered me.
I still had this sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t right. When he’d delivered food to me and Sasha, it seemed like he didn’t remember our text conversation about me needing some time.
But then he smiled, that gorgeous wide expression, and it sent a butterfly or two dancing around my stomach.
It wouldn’t hurt to date Aiden. My doubts were probably unfounded. And I could be cautious, keep a wall up… until I was sure about things. My phone pinged again. I walked over and picked it up.
Aiden: I’m sorry if I put you on the spot, Tarryn. I didn’t mean to be impatient.
I typed quickly, to put him out of his misery. No, it’s fine. You didn’t put me on the spot. What did you want to ask me?
Aiden: Well, Homecoming’s soon. Next weekend actually. I wondered if you had a date yet.
I smiled, thinking of the dance. Some Homecoming bashes were fairly low-key, but apparently Castleton went all out. The one at my old school was basically a quick homecoming court presentat
ion, a football game, and a poorly-decorated gathering in the gym with sugary punch and stale cookies (that part I always skipped). But this was a prom-type affair here. Brand new territory for me. I mean, Becky had tried to get me to go to prom sophomore and junior year. Our school was so small that everyone went to all the functions. I’d made up an excuse though, like I typically did. I’d just never wanted to be the one girl going stag. Becky always had a boyfriend. Always.
Sasha had mentioned going to the dance together, but then ‘girth and length’ Steve had asked her and she’d gone from ‘hoes before bros’ to ‘rock that cock’. So much for the lake party being a one-time thing.
No. I don’t have a date yet.
Aiden: Will you go with me then? Fair warning. I’ve got two left feet.
Well in that case, sold.
Aiden: Be prepared to square dance. **wink emoticon**
Oh, lord. Why?
Aiden: Kellerman is obsessed with it. Hundred bucks says he’ll play at least four Zip Wilson songs before someone pulls the plug. Think you can handle it, square?
As long as we’ve got root beer. I joked back.
We talked a while longer, going back and forth bantering. My thumbs started aching after a while.
Aiden: Hey, I’m going to switch to the computer. Give me a bit.
Good idea. My thumbs hurt like hell. **laugh emoticon**
I booted up my computer and logged onto my social media account. The green dot was bright next to Aiden’s small photograph.
You there?
Aiden: Yeah.
Me too. Well, obviously.
Aiden: Actually, give me a second. My brother needs something.
Okay.
I read another page of my book while I waited for him to come back. It didn’t take him long.
Aiden: Back
What’s it like having a little brother? Mom and Dad tried for another kid, but it didn’t happen.
Aiden: I mean, I guess it would be less lonely than being an only child.
Aiden: It is less lonely, I mean.
My mom constantly takes my clothes. I tease her that I don’t need a little sister because she basically is one.
Aiden: My mom’s never around.
Oh? I thought your mom worked in the next town?
He took a while to respond. Maybe his brother needed him again.
Aiden: Right. She just travels a lot. For work, you know.
Right. I’m sorry. I probably forgot that part.
Aiden: Have I told you much about my dad? I can’t remember.
I shook my head, and then realized he couldn’t see it. No. You haven’t.
Aiden: He’s a dick. Wants me to just fall in line and follow the plan.
He doesn’t want you to be a lawyer?
Aiden: No. I’m supposed to go into the family business. Be another corporate figurehead to boss people around and keep the empire going. He won’t even listen to any other possibilities.
God. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine a parent not wanting their kid to be a lawyer of all things. You’re so ambitious and you work so hard.
Aiden: Yeah…
Aiden: I guess I do.
What’s your family’s business? I feel like you mentioned something about… was it furniture?
Again, there was a pause. The dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared.
Aiden: That’s it. Furniture.
Being at odds with your dad’s got to be terrible. My dad doesn’t talk a lot, but I know he supports me and wants the best for me.
Aiden: Lucky you.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was bragging.
Aiden: Whatever.
Um… Aiden.
Aiden: What?
You don’t seem like yourself. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing.
Aiden: It’s not you. I need to go. I’ll see you Monday.
Okay. Bye.
I sent the last message, but the little green light by his photo had already faded.
Again, a kernel of doubt popped in my chest. If I allowed it to, I could feed the feeling. I could put the whole damn bag of suspicious seeds into the overthinking microwave and pop them all to hell. But I squashed the uncertainty.
There was no way I could study now—not with my head swimming with visions of Aiden in a suit and tie. A pocket square to match my dress.
A dress. I’d need a dress.
“Mom!” I yelled, hopping up from my desk so fast that I knocked over the chair. “Mom!”
“What?” My mom screeched from downstairs. “Is the dang house on fire?”
“Worse than that!” I shouted, padding out of my room and down the stairs. I found her cozied up in her favorite chair by the fire.
Mom looked me up and down, the glass of wine in her hand poised to take another sip. “What in the world are you freaking out about?”
“Aiden just asked me to the homecoming dance,” I blurted out, a grin so wide it hurt spreading my lips.
“Shut up,” Mom breathed out, nearly dumping her glass of wine as she stood. “You’re first dance. Aww, baby.” She walked over and cupped my chin with her hand. “Look at you growing up.”
I grimaced. “Mom, come on. I’m seventeen.”
“Seventeen and never gone to a dance.” She let go of my face and did a little dance around me, holding her wine up in the air. “Seventeen and never been kissed.” She continued to sing-song.
“Oh, lord,” I groaned, covering my face with both hands. “Please stop. If you love me, just stop.”
“Fine, fine. I’m just happy for you.”
“Because you measure my maturity by whether or not I’ve got a boyfriend?” I dropped my hands to look at her and lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her reply.
“Basically,” she shrugged, chugging the rest of her merlot.
“If you’re going to act like this, then I’ll take Sasha dress shopping instead of you.” I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her eyes widen.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasped out, eyes narrowing.
“Oh, I would. So shape up, or stay home tomorrow.” I turned heel and went back to the stairs. She followed after me.
“Okay, I give. No more jokes.” Her hand touched my shoulder; I automatically turned around to face her.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She smiled, that mom-twinkle in her eyes. “But I get veto rights. And,” she paused for effect, “the dress has to be Cinderella blue.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Baby blue was one of my least favorite colors.
“With sequins,” she pushed, grinning now.
“You’re awful.” I rolled my eyes and left her at the bottom of the stairs. Secretly though? Fancy dress shopping with my mom to go to a school dance with a guy I liked was… thrilling. I was going to enjoy it, even if Mom made me try on a hundred fairy tale princess dresses that sparkled more than the New Year’s Eve ball.
***
“Come on.” I pulled my mom faster towards the mall. We’d had to drive two towns away. The only dress store in River Valley had been basically sold out, except for a few size zeros and twos. On a good day, I was an athletic six.
“Tarryn, slow down. The dresses aren’t going to all run away in the next ten minutes.” Mom struggled to shove the station wagon keys into her pocketbook as I racehorse galloped towards the entrance.
“They might,” I joked, giving her hand another pull. “And you said Dad might need the car later. I don’t want to not find a dress, because we ran out of time. Though Dad shouldn’t have to work on a Saturday.”
“You know how demanding this job is, Tarryn. Your dad has to work hard. Seriously, slow down!” Mom yell-laughed as I yanked her faster. Her breathing sounded a little quick and shallow too, but I was too excited to slow down. “Okay, enough, enough.” Mom used her weight to force me to stop moving. “You’ve got to walk, or I’m going to have a heart attack. Then who else is going to buy you a dress?”
“I just don’t want someone to buy the one before we can get to the store.” I shuffled my feet impatiently.
“No one’s going to buy your dress, Tarryn. I mean who else would want to buy a powder blue ballgown covered in rhinestones?” She winked at me, eyes sparkling.
“Shut your dirty mouth,” I laughed.
We bee-lined for a directory as soon as we entered the shadowy-coolness of the shopping center. The mall map was a nearly-indecipherable maze of red, blue, and black. It took us eons to figure out which direction to go to get to the formal wear store. When we got there, the two large windows greeted us with a pastel rainbow and there was a group of girls scanning the racks. I didn’t recognize them, not that I expected to being outside River Valley.
“Can I help you?” A tall man in a three-piece suit approached us. All he needed was a curly mustache and a bowler cap and he’d have fit right into another era.
“We’ll browse first, thank you.” My mother was already playing with the chiffon of a light blue dress.
“Get away from that,” I pulled the material from her fingers. “No baby blue.”
“Hey. This was the deal. You’re at least trying on one of my picks.” With that, Mom walked away from me and started exploring a rack deeper into the store. She could look all she wanted; I’d even try on a few dresses she liked, but I was picking my first official school dance ensemble. Not my mom.
Literally twenty minutes later I was standing in an ice blue dress that looked nearly silver when I moved. It was strapless with lines of sheer metallic flowers flowing down the bodice and filtering out onto the skirt. A ballgown. I was wearing a freaking ballgown.
And I kind of… loved it.
“You look like a princess, Tarryn.” Mom stepped down off the platform in front of the triple-view mirror, leaving me alone to wallow in total defeat. Mom was going to get her way. “Hmm,” she murmured, leaning forward and fluffing out the full A-line skirt. “It needs something.” She walked away towards the accessory rack and I turned around to stare at myself in the mirror.
It wasn’t sleek and sexy, which I imagined would be what most Castleton High girls opted for, but it was… strangely, me. The silvery-hue complemented the light tan-peach of my skin and my boring light brown hair, loose and straight today, even looked shinier and a good sort of ashy. Salon handiwork, not natural blah.
Bully: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 1) Page 10