by Susan Wu
Shutting the back door, I drop my book bag on the kitchen floor. I take out a carton of milk from the fridge and take a few quick swigs before stuffing it back into its spot. Foraging through the fridge, I skip the kale chips and celery sticks and grab a container of greek yogurt. I open the cupboard next to the fridge and pull out a bag of trail mix. I start picking banana chips and walnuts out of a bag of trail mix as I fish through a drawer full of silverware for a spoon.
Even though it is sweltering out, my mom insists I wear my leather jacket when I ride. But heat rash is preferable to road rash. I shrug off my leather jacket as I cut through the dining room, inhaling the container of yogurt as I go. As I set down the empty container of yogurt and half eaten bag of trail mix on the coffee table next to the unopened mail, I sling my leather jacket on the back of the couch. Finally, I kick off my boots at the foot of the stairs before I trudge up the stairs to my room.
Throwing myself onto the bed, the wooden bed frame groans in protest. Picking up a baseball from my bedside table, I start tossing it at the ceiling and catching it. The familiar rhythm puts my body at ease as my mind races ahead.
I had really wanted this year to be different. When you move around a lot, you tend to feel very lonely. You become really good at making friends fast but it’s hard to form any real lasting friendships when it’s time to move again nine months later. But things were going to be different this year. We were setting down roots now.
Things were different. I think of Sam Jordan. He was the most popular guy at Everest Heights. Starting quarterback and captain of the football team, shoe-in for Homecoming and Prom King. He had known his best friend since third grade but he folded me into his life so easily it was like I had been along for the ride. For once, I felt like one of the guys instead of like the new guy.
Things on the girl front were a bit more complicated. My rhythm gets thrown off and I throw the baseball too high. It hits the ceiling with a soft thud before ricocheting onto the floor. I lift my head off the bed and watch as it rolls toward the door. Sighing, I drop back down onto my pillow.
I wasn’t actively looking for a girlfriend. I’m never actively looking--girls find me. Usually my schedule is so packed with sports, music, and art, there is little time for girls. I mean, yeah, I had gone on the occasional date, attended some dances, and been in a few relationships. I even had my heart broken once or twice. I’m pretty sure I’m not completely clueless when it comes to girls. But I’m also pretty sure that assumption means I’m probably completely clueless.
Fallon Pierce, the mysterious girl who is harder to read than Anna Karenina. Unabridged. In Russian. At first glance, it would be easy to mistake her for a delicate beauty. But there is a fire blazing behind those pale green eyes. From what I could tell, Fallon mostly kept to herself in her own lonely bubble.
I close my eyes and I can see Fallon walking down her block. Her annoyance clear as day as she shoos me away. It must be some kind of record. One girl running away from you twice in a span of three hours. I’m not sure why I’m being such a glutton for punishment with this girl.
Life would be easier if I were attracted to someone like Mackenzie Brooks. A girl who knows what she wants and goes after it. I wasn’t going to be able to hold her off much longer. Mackenzie is the girl that all the guys talk about. Obviously she has all the things that attract boys--gorgeous face, hot body, etc. She is smart too but quick to dismiss it. But she also has a catty streak from here to the Great Lakes. Oh right, there is the little fact that she is actually into me.
I think about the note she passed me in Psychology in front of Fallon. The unspoken hostility between the two of them. I would not be going to that party. I am not interested in meeting the people Mackenzie would consider “the right people,” I want to meet real people.
It just doesn’t feel right with Mackenzie. There’s nothing there between us. No sparks. No connection. I hang out with Mackenzie when there isn’t anyone else to hang out with. She also makes it easy and on my terms. For now. But I’m sure once my status changes from boy friend to boyfriend, that will be another story.
Maybe girls weren’t that complicated and I was just making it harder on myself. I know where I stand with Mackenzie. I’m not into her and eventually I’m going to have to find a way to let her down gently. I know where I stand with Fallon. She also doesn’t know a thing about me. Then again, she also made it pretty clear she doesn’t care to.
Yet, I don’t want to give up on Fallon. Not yet. That drawing... there was definitely more than meets the eye with that girl. I hoist myself up and retrieve the baseball before resuming my position in bed. My past experience with relationships were fleeting, but we are setting down roots now.
I feel as restless as ever.
Fallon
The next morning, I take my usual place in the cafeteria and start laying out my things. Before I can put my headphones on, Ethan is setting his things down and pulling out the chair across from me. He is the picture of boyish charm as he sits down. Why does he have to be so handsome and impeccably dressed? Most of the boys at Everest look like they just rolled out of bed but he looks like he stepped out of the pages of a magazine.
His chestnut hair is mussed up like he’s just awoken, but it works on him. His black leather jacket slung over his shoulder, he is dressed in a blue and red plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his muscled forearms and slim cut, faded gray chino shorts with navy canvas sneakers. He looks so handsome and put together, I feel underdressed in my emerald green t-shirt, denim cutoffs, and scuffed, white low tops.
“Good morning, Fallon,” he says, flashing me a bright smile that makes his eyes crinkle.
“Morning, Ethan,” I mutter suspiciously. “You look well rested. How was the hottest party of the week?”
He arches an eyebrow and smiles vaguely, “It was... eventful.”
“Those parties usually are,” I try to sound bland, but I can’t keep the bite out of my tone. I don’t like the idea of him getting tangled with Mackenzie. I knew her too well to want that for him.
“Mackenzie told me all about you last night,” his voice is teasing and his eyes are alit with mischief.
Mackenzie and I used to be best friends, but I never thought she would actually talk about me to get close to Ethan. Then again things were different now and I wouldn’t put much past her these days. I respond skeptically, “It must have been full of revelation seeing as Mackenzie and I haven't been friends since middle school.”
He casually runs his hand through his hair, a stray lock flopping back down on his forehead. I resist the urge to reach over and brush it back. He leans toward me and in a confidential whisper reveals, “Ooh, busted. I confess, I didn't actually go to her soiree last night.”
“Hmmm,” I am secretly thrilled but reply in a disinterested voice. “Who you hang out with in your free time is none of my concern.” Flipping open my Calculus book to a random page so that I have something to look at besides Ethan, I can still feel his eyes studying my face.
He taps his finger down on the page to get my attention. “Hey, I was just pulling your leg. Mackenzie cornered me after Psych yesterday and I barely made it out alive. I could’ve used some back up.”
I look up from my book and am taken aback by his expression. His blue eyes are earnest and his smile is open. For some reason, Ethan genuinely wants to be my friend. He just doesn’t know who he is getting mixed up with. I sigh as the first period bell cuts through our moment of suspended silence as we stare at each other. I snatch up my Calculus book and make a run for it. “I’m sorry I’m not very good company. See you around, Ethan.” He is still sitting at the table as I turn down the hallway to head to European History.
Mrs. Douglas's monotone is background noise as I fiddle with the pages of my notebook trying to concentrate on her words instead of the prattling in my head. What does it matter what Ethan hears about me? Everest Heights is a small place and my reputation precedes me. It’s hard to have
secrets when everyone knows who you are, no matter how insignificant you become.
I consider myself to be very practiced when it came to dealing with people, but Ethan has this disarming quality. Was I really that incapable of having a normal interaction with this boy? Well normal is not how I would definite my interactions with people in general. But all my careful controls seem to slip around him.
Staring down at the blank page of my notebook willing my mind to clear, I can feel Ethan's stare from across the classroom and I have to force myself not to return it. I shouldn't want anything to do with this boy, yet here I was dissecting his words. My curiosity is getting the better of me but I have to remind myself that all my careful controls aren’t just for my benefit.
But Ethan had teased me, something no one has done in a long time. He was treating me like how people used to treat me when I still felt normal though Ethan made me feel far from normal. I don’t know where I belong anymore. When the bell rings, I scramble out of the room avoiding Ethan once again. I can be such a coward.
I am distracted all throughout gym. After almost get plowed over during flag football, Coach Morris blows his whistle and screams at me to snap out of it before I get my neck snapped. I scrape through the rest of the period by running up and down the field with the rest of the class. I don’t know if my team won, I am just relieved when he blows the final whistle.
In English, Mr. Murphy announces that he wants us to get a head start on our midterm project. “Just because you're seniors, doesn't mean you get to coast the rest of the year. Your midterm will be due the week after winter break. Luckily for you, the midterm will based on the works of William Shakespeare. And I will be so generous to let you choose which one you want to focus on. There will be a 20 page essay and a minimum 15 minute presentation. Fear not, you will not have to go it alone. You will be have a partner--” Everyone starts buzzing excitedly and turning to one another. I hate group projects. “--that I have already chosen for you.”
There is a chorus of groans as Mr. Murphy pulls out his class list and starts pairing us off, “Sam Jordan, you'll be working with Sydney Cooper. Chloe Stanford, you'll be working with James Anderson...” I cringe when Mr. Murphy pairs me with Emma Cole. Emma glares at me from across the room as soon as my name is called. After Mr. Murphy calls all the names, he hands out a 3 page assignment sheet and goes over the project in detail. He is still talking animatedly when the bell rings and the class starts stuffing their books in their bags and making their way out the door. “And don't forget! This project is worth a third of your grade!”
The rest of the day passes in a haze with a growing list of teachers that are annoyed by my inattention. After art, I hastily stash my barely touched drawings in my portfolio. Taking evasive action in the cafeteria, I do something I have not done for a long, long time. I sit down at a lunch table that is already occupied by people. Popular people.
I sit down next to Sam Jordan at his very crowded lunch table in the center of the cafeteria. He is unquestionably the most popular boy at Everest High School. Sam is the football team's starting quarterback and team captain, the basketball team's star shooting guard, and third baseman for the baseball team. And he is also my ex-boyfriend.
Sam and I dated for almost two years starting in seventh grade. He is a god when it comes to anything athletic but he is an emotional dunce when it comes to relationships. We were perfectly matched in that respect. Even after our awkward break up, Sam has been far kinder than I probably deserve.
Every person at the table stops talking to turn and stare at me. He is either oblivious to my lowly status on the high school food chain or doesn’t care. Sam, bless him, doesn't seem at all perplexed by my presence and acts like I come eat lunch with him every day. “Hey, Fallon. What’s up?” He pops a french fry into his mouth and continues to eat.
I squirm uncomfortably under the blatant stares of his shellshocked lunch table, “Erm, I thought I would join you for lunch.” Judging by his friends’ expressions, I figured it was safer not to ask for permission.
“I didn’t know you had lunch this period,” he mumbles through a mouth full of cheeseburger.
“Yeah, I’m usually... doing other stuff. I’m sorry to ask but I need a favor,” I cringe, expecting him to say no.
He polishes off his cheeseburger and picks up a container of strawberry yogurt. “Sure thing. What is it?” he asks.
“Mr. Murphy paired me with Emma Cole for the Shakespeare presentations. You know how she feels about me.”
Sam shrugs, “I don’t know what she has to complain about. You’re a freaking genius at this stuff. She’s just being like that cause of Mackenzie.”
“Exactly. If we have to work together, it will be disastrous. And I really can't afford to fail this project if I ever want to graduate and leave this place. Do you think you could be my partner instead?”
He wrinkles his brow pausing as he dips a handful of fries into a pool of ketchup, “Are you sure you want me as your partner? You remember how lousy I am at public speaking. And English isn't my strongest subject especially that Shakespearean English...”
“It's totally fine, I'll help you. It'll be just like old times,” giving him what I hope is a winning smile but feels awfully like a grimace.
Sam nods and returns my smile, “Uh, okay if you're sure. You were always really good at this school stuff.”
“Thanks, Sam. I’ll talk to Mr. Murphy tomorrow.” Sam could be so easy to like. The table is still eerily quiet from my presence and I deploy some diversion tactics to get all the attention off me, “Now I heard you guys really creamed Everest Central last weekend...”
And to my relief, Sam and his friends start a reenactment of the game, giving me the play-by-play complete with wild hand gestures and boisterous laughter.
I let my gaze wander around the cafeteria until I spot who I’m looking for. Ethan's standing in the lunch line with Sophia and Chloe. They're both laughing at something he just said. Sophia hooks her arm around his and practically drags him to their usual lunch table where Emma and Mackenzie are already sitting.
Ethan
The lunchroom is buzzing louder than usual today. Or maybe the sound is amplified due to the acute migraine threatening to short out my brain. As I look across the table, I look past Sophia’s shoulder and see Fallon sitting two tables away. My heart sinks when I see who she’s with. She looks so fragile, squeezed in next to Sam at his extremely crowded lunch table.
She is distracted so I can stare freely. Fallon really is beautiful. Her long dark hair curls softly around the elegant column of her neck. Her emerald t-shirt emphasizes the pale green of her irises. Her legs are long and slim, crossed at the ankles with her left foot jiggling. She is absently twisting her fingers in her lap-- a nervous gesture.
The football team is loudly recounting tales of their glorious victory over Everest Central last weekend. Sam had played spectacularly that night, throwing three touchdown passes. His friends are less modest about his playing and he smiles embarrassedly at Fallon who responds with her own unsure smile. Even her smile is sad--not quite reaching her eyes. She says something to him and he nudges her playfully in the way only Sam could get away with. Fallon doesn’t seem to mind his familiarity and proximity. I can’t watch any more.
I rub my hand over my chest, trying to alleviate the sudden ache I feel. In the lunch line, Emma had told me of Fallon’s plan to switch partners for the English midterm. It hadn’t surprised me given their obvious dislike for each other. But Fallon had chosen Sam to be her new partner. Of course. I like Sam but he is one of my lab partners in Bio, so I know the reason she asked him wasn’t because he was so smart and hardworking.
A dark cloud rolls over me as I observe his easy smile and golden boy good looks. I grind my teeth as I watch him casually drape his arm on the back of her chair as their table continues chatting. Fallon is leaning forward in her chair, picking at the sandwich on her lunch tray and doesn’t seem to notice this lit
tle gesture.
I can’t say I’m too surprised about this development. No one seemed to know much about Fallon. Sam seemed to be the only person willing to even talk about Fallon but he wasn’t giving me any intel. Anytime I brought her up, he always seemed very vague and protective of her. As I stare at his arm draped across the back of her chair, now I understand why Sam had been so guarded with providing information on Fallon.
Sam is my friend. Sam is my friend. Sam is my friend. I keep chanting this in my head, but the urge to shove his face into his plate of french fries doesn’t pass.
Fallon doesn’t even like you. The thought stings and it brings me crashing back down to Earth. I look down at my tray of uneaten food, suddenly losing my appetite. It takes great effort to pull myself away from the conversation at Sam’s table and rejoin my own.
Mackenzie is smiling at me, resting her hand on my knee. She is decked out in a tight red sweater dress and high heeled boots. Even though it is about forty degrees outside, she is still showing an eyeful of bare, tanned legs. She is twirling her carefully curled blonde hair between her other hand, complaining about the newly released dress code for Homecoming.
All week they had been talking about nothing but Homecoming. Mackenzie has been hinting heavily that she wanted me to ask her. An eruption of laughter two tables away makes me think maybe I should. Mackenzie could be a nice girl. When she wanted to be.
“I’m going to have to get a new dress. My mom is going to be so pissed. I mean, it’s not like I can return it. I already had my dress shortened and taken in. These new rules are so stupid,” Mackenzie actually pouts.