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The Extraordinary Secrets of April, May, & June

Page 17

by Robin Benway


  In the movies, they never talk about prizewinning rabbits at parties. Still, at least I wasn’t hanging around by myself like that Avery girl. She kept floating from group to group, but it wasn’t like she was a super chatterbox. I half-wanted to sic Derek on her, but he was sort of a nice guy and that would have been mean. (And also? He kind of looked like a rabbit. Funny that.)

  Still, the music was crazy loud, so forceful that I could practically feel it move my eardrums, and I made sure to have my beer with me at all times. The red plastic cups were ubiquitous (my newest word from spelling bee guy). And every so often, someone would spill or slosh, and everyone nearby would scream. Mariah, in particular, thought it was hilarious, draping herself over my shoulders and giggling uncontrollably. She already smelled like beer, but that was okay because she was my friend. And that’s what friends do—have fun at parties and drink and watch everyone else do the same thing.

  At least, that’s what they do in the movies.

  “Heeeeeeey,” Mariah slurred at me as the night wore on. Her eyes were hazy, and I put my hand on her elbow to catch her before she tumbled to the ground. “Oops!” she giggled. “Stay upright.”

  “Yeah,” I grinned, still hanging onto her. I was still sipping my beer from time to time, not letting it out of my sight. (April gave me a lecture about the danger of roofies last year that seared itself into my brain.) “Having fun?”

  Mariah smiled sleepily. “I love my house. And my friends. And my boy. Where’s my boy?”

  I glanced around. “I dunno. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “That’s cool,” she said. She was hanging onto me again, clinging as some people stampeded past. I recognized this guy Matthew from my geometry class, and Arthur from history. I kinda wanted to say hi, but I didn’t know them. Not really, not like you would know someone well enough to say hello.

  “So you know,” Mariah said as we stumbled together towards the grass. “My dad has a beach house.”

  “Really?” I said, nearly dropping her on the ground. “Where?”

  “Cabo.”

  “A beach house in Cabo?” A beach house in Cabo! It’s seriously my dream to go to a beach house in Cabo. I just didn’t realize that until Mariah said it. But now that I knew? Totally my new goal.

  “You should come,” Mariah said, falling down next to me. “You and Blake and me. It’ll be awesome.”

  “Your dad doesn’t care that you bring your boyfriend to Mexico?” I asked.

  “Whatever. He’s not around. He doesn’t even go down there.” Mariah frowned and waved her hand around, dismissing the idea. But her brain was saying, Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, really really fast, like she didn’t even know she was saying it, and I leaned back a bit, just in case her thoughts became contagious. I wasn’t quite sure who we were talking about, Blake or her dad, and really, I didn’t care.

  Just put me in a bikini and get me to Cabo.

  “That’d be fantastic,” I said to her, handing her my beer so she could finish it. (Beer tastes gross. What’s the point of having two older sisters if no one tells me this stuff?)

  “Faaaaaaantastic,” Mariah repeated, just as Blake came out the back door, his eyes sort of wild and weird. “Blake!” Mariah screamed, and he looked sort of embarrassed that she knew his name, but came over anyway, flopping down next to us. His brain was all about light, lights being turned on, lights so bright that I couldn’t see anyone else in the room, and I decided that Blake was either super drunk or super high and that maybe now was a good time to start socializing again. It was either that or watch them make out and listen to their thoughts. Ew.

  Unfortunately, though, Derek cornered me again. “Hey!” he grinned when he saw me step inside. “Miss me?” His front teeth glimmered in the dim light.

  I almost snapped back, but I bit my tongue because I could tell from his thoughts that I made him really nervous, the kind of nervous you get when you’re talking to someone you like and your mouth gets dry and you say every stupid thing in your head. It wasn’t the way Blake thought of Mariah. In fact, Blake didn’t really think about Mariah at all.

  So I spent another half hour on the couch with Derek, leaning back as far as possible and listening to the thoughts around me. It’s kind of fun to hear people’s brains get drunker and drunker, like someone hit the slo-mo button. I even giggled when Julie Hincks started to fantasize about sticking her tongue down Derek’s throat. That girl had to be totally wasted. There was no other logical explanation.

  By the time I was able to extricate myself from Derek, something had happened in the kitchen. I ran in as soon as I heard shrieks of laughter, beelining right for Mariah. “What’d I miss, what’d I miss?” I cried. But she was giggling too hard, and her brain was pretty much mush. Instead, she just grabbed my shoulders and kept laughing, and pretty soon I was laughing with her, too. Is this what they meant by a contact high? I wasn’t sure. “Cabo!” she squealed in my ear, and suddenly everything felt amazing. This was what I had wanted. I wanted friends, I wanted parties, I wanted music and people, and I wanted to be myself.

  And I finally had it.

  Unfortunately, I also had to pee.

  I managed to hold it until I just couldn’t anymore, and then I found the first-floor bathroom. The door was shut, and I banged on it impatiently. “Hurry up!” I cried. “There’s a line!”

  There wasn’t, but whatever. I seriously had to go.

  Avery walked past, holding a red plastic cup and looking sort of puffy-eyed. “Oh, hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” I replied, trying not to hop up and down like a four-year-old. “How are you? How’s work?” When she looked confused, I added, “My sisters and I saw you at Best Buy, remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “It’s fine, whatever. Hey, have you seen Mariah around? Is she with Blake?”

  Visions of Mariah and Blake flashed through her mind, the two of them making out like the world was ending. I winced a little at the vision. “Uh, I think they’re—she’s outside,” I said. “I’m not sure.”

  “Cool,” she said. “You might want to find a different restroom, by the way. It’s gonna be occupied for a while.”

  I pounded on the door again and asked, “How do you know?”

  A voice inside the bathroom yelled, “Go away!” and I froze as Avery drifted away.

  I knew that voice.

  Ignoring Avery, I yanked the door open and stepped inside. Someone was hunched over the toilet, moaning softly to herself, and when she looked up at me, my eyes almost fell out of my head.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  chapter 16

  “This isn’t make-believe! This is it!” april

  Okay, not to sound selfish, but there is one nice thing about having divorced parents who live apart. When a guy comes over to pick you up for a date, he only has to meet one of them. I hadn’t ever thought about that aspect before, mostly because there wasn’t a chance in hell that a boy would need to meet my parents for any date-related reasons, but now that the opportunity was here, I realized it was a bonus.

  But again, this was not a date. This was a fact-finding experience. Operation: Save June and Whatever Other Yahoos Were at the Party.

  I have to say, my mom was a pretty smooth operator. My sisters had just left when Julian arrived, and my mom shook Julian’s hand and didn’t act weird or say things like, “I have a gun and I know how to use it, Buster,” or whatever overprotective parents say to their daughters’ dates. (And just so you know, she doesn’t have a gun. We aren’t even allowed to shoot rubber bands at each other.)

  Luckily, Julian went with the flow. He wasn’t even wearing his Anarchy hat, either, and his dark hair looked kind of tousled and cute. He shook my mom’s hand back, introduced himself, and called her “ma’am” which I found hilarious. I had already seen this little meeting going well, but I was never sure what my visions were missing. My brain couldn’t see everything, which made the hole
s in my visions seem that much bigger. I never knew what would fall through the cracks.

  “So you’re going to the movies?” my mom asked him. “That’ll be nice. April never gets to go to the movies.”

  See what I mean? Like that. I had not seen that comment coming. Now Julian would think I was some sort of hermitic turtle.

  I gave my mom the death glare behind Julian’s back as I shrugged into my coat. She just smiled and said, “Well, have fun, you two. April, home by midnight, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Call if you need anything. You have your cell phone?”

  I waved it at her, and Julian very nicely held my coat so I could put my other arm into it. I got a bit tangled up, and it quickly devolved into a Three Stooges moment. But it was still a thoughtful gesture.

  And my mom smiled so hard I thought the lower half of her face would fall off.

  “Bye,” I said as Julian went to open the front door. I gave my mom a hug and hissed in her ear, “‘April never gets to go to the movies’? Really???”

  “Oh, relax,” she whispered back. “There’s a boy holding a door open for you. Go.”

  I waved goodbye to her as we went out the door, and when she waved back, I saw her evening lying ahead of her. She would eat cheese and crackers, standing up at the counter because there was no one to sit with her at the table. Then she’d watch MTV because it made her think of us, her girls, all of whom were growing up and going away. She’d go to bed at ten and sleep on the left side, just like she always did. She would turn up the volume on her cell phone and put it right by her head, just in case we called, but I already knew that when I got home that night, she would be asleep and her phone wouldn’t ring once.

  “Earth to you,” Julian said as he held the car door open for me. “Where’d you go? Your eyes got weird for a second.”

  “Just trying to remember if I unplugged the iron upstairs,” I said, and bit back the sad feeling that ached in my throat. “So who taught you about opening doors?”

  “My mom,” he said. “She sort of threatened to take away my car if I didn’t treat you well.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. She said that if I wasn’t a gentleman, she’d take the car and I’d have to ride my bike and then we’d see how many dates I’d get.” He laughed to himself as he started the engine. “Of course, I’ve had the car for a year, and you’re the first girl that’s been in it.”

  “Oh,” I said. I didn’t know whether to feel honored or weirdedout. We were on a date, an actual date. It was finally sinking in. I glanced around. Julian’s car wasn’t filthy, but it was obviously a guy’s car. He didn’t even have an air freshener or a trash bag. “Well, if it helps, I can call your mom and tell her that you were very nice to me.”

  Julian laughed and started backing out of the driveway. “The night’s not over yet.”

  I just smiled and fastened my seatbelt. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

  The movie was only half-crowded, and we found seats towards the back just as the lights started to dim. “I suppose you’re one of those people who doesn’t like it when other people talk during the previews,” he whispered as he settled the popcorn between us.

  “Ssshh,” I replied, which made him laugh. He really did have a nice laugh, and I had to remind myself that Julian equalled trouble.

  No matter how nice his laugh was.

  Afterwards, we walked over to this café for coffee, and he paid for that, too, even buying me an extra shot of espresso. “You’re so not gonna sleep tonight,” he said as the barista handed me my drink. I just smiled and didn’t bother to explain that that was the point, that the last thing I wanted to do was sleep and have that dream and see his and June’s faces again. I’d take espresso-induced insomnia any day.

  “So,” I said once we stole a table by the window. “What’d you think of the movie?”

  Julian sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “I guess I just have one question.”

  “Hmmm?”>

  “What the hell was that?”

  I practically spit cappuccino all over him. “THAT was French magical realism!” I cried. “Did we even see the same movie? Did you fall asleep?”

  “No, because I was too busy reading my movie.” He glanced at me. “Uh-oh. You liked it, didn’t you?”

  “I loved it,” I said, and it was the truth. I felt even worse for making May follow June to the party, since she probably would have loved it, too. “You didn’t?”

  “April, it was completely unrealistic.”

  “It was a metaphor!”

  “Next time, we’re seeing one of the Saw films.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I scoffed. “Your mom threatens to take your car away from you if you don’t open a door for me, and you want to take me to a movie where people disembowel each other? Ha. You’re a comedian.”

  Julian grinned, and I suddenly realized that we were talking about our second date. He was going to ask me out again, and I wasn’t sure if I knew that because of the vision I was having or because of the way Julian’s face looked when he smiled at me.

  “So,” he said. “If I promise we don’t see a disemboweling film, wanna do it again?”

  I started tearing my napkin into shreds. “Uh,” I said, sounding like the village idiot. “Yeah, it’s just …”

  Julian sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his dark hair. “Oh.”

  “No, no, it’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just …” I took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to tell him something without telling him anything. “Things have been sort of weird. At my house.”

  “Yeah?”>

  I nodded. “Yeah, my parents, they, uh, they got divorced a couple of months ago. That’s why we moved here. And then it’s just been all strange. Really strange. I mean, I can’t even explain how strange things have been, so just trust me on this.”

  “Strange like the movie we just saw?”

  “Not even. Strange like …”

  I wanted to tell him so bad. I wanted to say everything, that my sisters and I were blessed or cursed or haunted or whatever, that we were something. I needed someone else to carry the burden before I dropped it and everything fell apart.

  I took a deep breath. “Um, my sisters and I, we have this—”

  Cream everywhere, dripping down the side of the condiment bar in fat, oily drops, leaking all over people’s shoes , , ,

  “Oh, no!” I said without thinking, and two seconds later, some guy knocked over the creamer container and sure enough, cream everywhere.

  Julian looked at me when I said that, then turned around to follow my gaze just in time to see the accident. “Oh, that sucks,” he sighed. “Good thing I already filled up.”

  But the vision reminded me that I hadn’t watched May or June in almost an hour. Julian was leaning over to hand the guy some of our napkins, and I glanced down and closed my eyes and looked hard. But all I could see was June standing in the kitchen, laughing next to Mariah, looking happy. It was the same thing I had seen all week, the same stupid vision that refused to confirm my worst fears, and I took a deep breath and let it go.

  June was fine. May was fine. I couldn’t see either of them in danger. Everything had to be fine.

  “You okay?” Julian said, leaning in to look at me.

  “I’m fine,” I said automatically.

  “You know, you get this really weird look on your face sometimes,” he said. “It’s like you’re watching TV.”

  “Really?” I said before I could help myself. “That’s what I look like?” I blushed. I couldn’t believe he’d been studying my face that closely.

  “Yep.” Julian sat back and reached for his coffee. “So your parents got divorced and now things are strange. Why does that mean you can’t go to the movies again?”

  I squirmed a little in my seat. “You know, you’re very direct,” I told him, trying to buy time.

  He raised an eyebr
ow. “You know a better way to be, Bossy McBosserson?”

  I smiled despite myself, and Julian smiled back. “I can go to the movies,” I said. “I just … it’s just so complicated. Life is so crazy right now. I don’t even know who I am.”

  Julian just laughed. “April, no one knows who they are. Everyone’s life is crazy. Look at me, I’m completely screwed up.”

  “Way to sell the second date,” I said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He was right, I did know. I searched frantically, looking for a second date with Julian, but before I could get too far, Julian started talking again.

  “I like you,” he said. “How’s that for direct? You’re the first girl to ever give me shit about my styrofoam coffee cup and my white bread and the first girl who wasn’t scared of me, or didn’t accuse me of being some crazy goth freak just because I wore black or whatever. And I don’t know what your deal is, but I don’t give a damn that your parents are divorced or your life is strange. I don’t care.”

  “You say that now.”

  “I do. I am. I’m saying it now. I’ll even read another movie with you.”

  I wanted to tell him so bad right then, but how do you say, “Good news, I’ve seen the future, and you and I have sex. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how. But we will, so just be patient.” I couldn’t say that, and I didn’t know what to say. So I just looked at Julian, and he looked at me.

  “Fine,” he said. “You want to decide this by having a staring contest? That’s cool.”

  I laughed, but didn’t blink. He didn’t, either, and we held each other’s gazes for such a long time that my eyes started to water. “Ha, you’re losing,” he said. “Second date, here I come.”

  It was so relaxing looking into his eyes, like I didn’t have to worry about anything anymore, like everything would work itself out and—

  Julian’s nose wrinkling, a sudden loud sneeze.

  “You’re a bully,” I laughed. “And you’re going to lose, my friend.”

 

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