Girls in the Moon

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Girls in the Moon Page 12

by Janet McNally


  “Rough,” Luna says. I see that we’re at Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall, and she stands up. “We have to switch to the 4/5,” she says. I follow her out.

  We stand on the platform waiting for the next train, Luna leaning on her guitar case, and I start to tell her the story.

  When I think about the way it happened, the first thing I remember is the sky. It was wide and black and sprinkled with pixie-dust stars. We were out in the country, and I couldn’t believe how visible the stars were, with all the streetlights so far away. There were more than I’d expected, filling in the spaces between the regular constellations I already knew. We’d left prom at midnight and taken our trolley bus to Chelsea’s backyard, or what passes for a backyard out there. Thick dark woods edged the open grass behind Chelsea’s big white house, and a three-quarters moon hung fat and silver in the sky above them.

  When Tessa asked Ben to prom, she convinced me to ask Tyler instead of my friend Tom. I still wasn’t sure why I had agreed. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Tyler or Ben at all, and I certainly didn’t want to be around Tessa and Ben together. I think I was afraid Tessa knew somehow, and maybe I said yes because I thought it might throw her off the trail. The trail of what, I didn’t know. I had given up on being with Ben before I’d even tried.

  I was standing at the bonfire trying to look like I was really concentrating on roasting my marshmallow (gelatin-free ones just for me—Chelsea thought of everything) when Tessa appeared at my side. She handed me a plastic cup of something pink. Wine from a box, I figured.

  “Chelsea says there’s a clearing in the woods.” She pointed toward the trees. “It’s not far, and she says the stars are really beautiful there.”

  “They’re beautiful here,” I said, flicking my wrist and my marshmallow stick toward the sky. “And it’s warm and relatively bug-free.” Tessa formed her mouth into an elaborate frown, but I shook my head. “Why don’t you and Ben just go?” I said. I knew Tessa wanted Ben to kiss her, and I didn’t want to be there for it. What was I supposed to do? Count all those stupid stars? Kiss Tyler? Not likely. I’d already have to deal forever with the fact that Tyler was holding on to my waist in my junior prom pictures. He was absolutely good-looking but just so obviously obnoxious. Something about his smile and his pretty white teeth.

  I took a big swallow of the wine.

  Tessa stood in front of me and shook her head, then her whole body: head, shoulders, hips. Her hair, set in big, perfect waves, rippled over her shoulders. She’d already had two glasses of wine, easy.

  “All of us!” she said. Ben and Tyler walked up behind her then and I looked at first Tyler, then Ben. His smile was sweet and half-formed. It looked like some kind of apology.

  “We’re going!” Tyler said to me, leaning forward emphatically. “You and Ben go ahead.”

  Tyler took Tessa’s hand and held it up like she was a prizefighter at the end of a victorious match. She giggled. “Tessa and I will bring some provisions,” he said, and dragged her away, still laughing.

  There were cupcakes on a table in Chelsea’s family room, but I was pretty sure by “provisions” Tyler meant “bottles of liquor,” which could potentially only make this whole situation worse. Still, I drank the rest of my wine right then, chucking the cup in the garbage. I ate the stupid marshmallow. I even decided to bring the whole bag with me.

  “Okay,” Ben said. He looked at me and his smile went past halfway. I tried to make my own mouth smile, but I’m not sure how successful I was.

  “Sweet tooth?” Ben asked, as we walked toward the edge of the yard. There was a soccer ball near some bushes, and he kicked it back onto the grass.

  “They’re vegetarian,” I said, as if that was an answer. I lifted the bag up to show him. “I mean, Chelsea bought them for me. I don’t eat gelatin because it’s made of boiled cow hooves. Or something.”

  “Gross,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “So I don’t want the rest of those creeps eating them while we’re gone.”

  Ben laughed. “I can see that. And in a pinch, we can throw them at attacking bears.”

  In the fairy tales my mother used to read to Luna and me, everything important happened in the woods. I could see why, now, because when we stepped inside, something changed. It was dark beyond the trees, even with the big white moon shining overhead. We followed a soft path strewn with pine needles for a few minutes. I had taken off my heels hours ago and was wearing silver flip-flops beneath my dress, so some of the needles flipped up between my feet and the soles. I stumbled over a root peeking out of the ground like a horseshoe, and caught myself just before I fell into the dirt.

  “Whoa,” Ben said. He took my hand to steady me, and I let him hold it. That was the first thing I did wrong: I didn’t let go.

  When we found the clearing I felt dizzy. The stars swirled gently overhead, like they were at a bottom of a lake and I was running my hand through the water.

  “The sky is spinning,” I said. “I’m not sure I like it.” I let go of Ben’s hand and lay down on the grass, feeling its prickly dampness beneath my shoulders. The stars settled. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, Ben was lying flat beside me. I turned my face toward him, my cheek touching the grass. He was already looking at me.

  “I asked Tyler to give us some time if he could find a way,” Ben said.

  “What?” I sat up and turned toward him. The sky shifted above me; the stars went back to swirling. Ben stayed flat on the ground. “Who is us?” I said.

  “You and me,” he said. He was fidgeting, rubbing the palm of his hand with his thumb. “I know this isn’t the right way to tell you this. I just feel like everything got messed up.” He sat up and turned to face me. “I wanted you to ask me to prom. Not Tessa.”

  “What?” I said. It came out in a whisper-shout.

  “Stop saying that,” Ben said. His smile was lopsided, hopeful. “You can’t tell me that you’re surprised.”

  Was I? I wasn’t sure. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” I said. “Tessa has liked you forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “Since the fall, at least.” I pulled up a handful of grass and let it fall. “She used to see you with your lacrosse stick, riding around on your bike.” I brushed grass off my dress’s satin skirt. “She almost ran you over once.” I had a flash of almost—almost—wishing she had, so I wouldn’t be here in the middle of the woods with a guy I liked who also happened to be my best friend’s prom date.

  Ben’s smile faded. “So she had first dibs?”

  “Basically,” I said. There was a feeling in my chest like the fizz in a soda bottle.

  “That doesn’t seem fair.” His voice was calm, rational. “I don’t get a say in it?”

  “I don’t think so.” I pulled out a marshmallow and held it between my fingers, squishing it. I wished for a bear so I could throw it. So I could stop talking. I considered putting a whole handful into my mouth. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  We sat for a minute without saying anything. I strained my ears to listen for Tessa and Tyler, but I could hear only the soft chirpy noise of a cricket, and the far-off laughter of the rest of our friends around the bonfire.

  Ben pulled his legs up to his chest. “I’m going to lodge a complaint with the front office,” he said.

  “Be my guest.” My heart was pounding. I would have welcomed the liquor bottles at this point. I figured if things were fuzzier, maybe this would be easier.

  Ben looked toward the trees. “All I can think about is that I want to kiss you.” He was speaking very softly.

  I shook my head, but I kept looking at him. “That’s because you’re drunk.”

  “Maybe,” he said, turning toward me. He put one palm flat on the ground to steady himself. “But I’m going to do it.”

  He moved closer, putting his other hand on my cheek and tilting his head a little. He looked at me like he was really seeing me. Or maybe I was finally letting him see. I couldn’
t move. Then his lips were on mine, soft and sure, and I kissed him back before I could stop myself. I could hear something, a low humming sound, my heart maybe, or the stars burning through the sky above us. All at once, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  I pulled away, putting my palms flat on the dewy grass.

  “We can’t do this.” I said it and at first it seemed like a question, and then like some kind of prayer to the sky or the stars or whatever might save me from screwing over my best friend.

  I heard Tessa’s voice in the woods then, as if I had summoned her with my mind. She and Tyler were laughing as they came from the path into the clearing, and they both ran to us, collapsing onto their knees on the ground, clinking a bottle of Grey Goose against a pebble in the grass.

  “Provisions!” Tessa said. She looked so happy I felt better for a moment. Tessa didn’t know what had just happened. I could still save this.

  Ben kept trying to catch my eye as Tyler poured vodka I wouldn’t drink into a red Solo cup. I looked at Tyler, made myself smile, but I wouldn’t look at Ben. I pretended I was cold and we went back to the bonfire after twenty minutes or so. I left the marshmallows in the clearing, and I still feel bad for littering. Maybe some nice vegan bunnies found them and had a sugar party.

  I didn’t tell Tessa, not that night, not any of the next—but she found out anyway. Because just like in the fairy tales, a kiss can change things: fix them or break them right open.

  We’re on the train under the river when I finish the story. Luna sits with her perfect posture, swaying a little as the train does. She’s quiet.

  “How do you feel about him?” she asks.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I run my fingers across my forehead as if I have a headache, but I don’t.

  Luna’s voice is kind. “Of course it does.”

  I loosen my muscles and let the train move me back and forth as if I’m in the water.

  “I liked him,” I say. “I did. But now none of that seems worth it.” I look at Luna. “Tessa and I have been best friends for twelve years. And I’m so pissed at him for telling her what happened.”

  “Yeah, but he must just really like you,” Luna says. “You can’t blame him for giving it a shot. He probably thought she’d get over it. Maybe he just didn’t want to lie.”

  Lie, like I did. But can I blame him? Yes, I guess. I do. But still, when I think about him, I always take a deep breath. I remember the way it felt to kiss him. I remember how sweet he was.

  “And anyway,” Luna says, “Tessa’s mad at you for kissing him? Or she’s mad that you didn’t tell her?”

  I think about it a moment. “Both, probably, but mostly that I didn’t tell.”

  Luna draws her knees to her chest, balancing the soles of her sandals on the very edge of the seat. Her toenails are painted navy blue.

  “Do you want to know what I think?” She looks at me.

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. For one, it’s easier for her to be mad at you,” Luna says. “Rather than at Ben. Or herself.” She touches her hand to her heart. “Plus, I bet she got sick of you getting extra attention.”

  “Attention for what?”

  “For being a Fabulous Ferris.” Luna laughs. “You know, having our parents as parents, among other things.” She rakes her fingers through her hair. “You know how people are back home. Starved for celebrity. Even the B-list kind.” She looks toward the window, and I can see that we’re stopping at Borough Hall. “Why do you think Rachel Johnson spread those rumors about me when I was a junior?”

  I don’t remember much about that, or maybe I didn’t know much about it in the first place. I was only fourteen. I remember Luna in tears on our Metro ride home, and her furious, fierce posture in the hallway the next day when she passed Rachel’s locker. They had been friends once. Then they weren’t anymore.

  Luna gets up and I follow her off the train. The station is bright enough that it could be any time of day. It feels like such a long time since I’ve slept, but right now, I can’t imagine falling asleep.

  “It’s not about Mom and Dad with you, though,” I say. “You have your own thing.”

  She holds her guitar up as we go through the turnstile. “First of all, yes, it is. Everyone wants to talk about Shelter.” In the hallway, I can hear her footsteps echoing louder than my own. “Second, you have your own thing too. It’s just not music.”

  “Let me know when you figure out what it is.” I take a deep breath. Suddenly, my limbs feel so heavy I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the walk back to Luna’s apartment. “Tessa did tell me to have fun with my famous family,” I say.

  “Ha! See? Exactly what I said.”

  “I don’t know. I think she’s just upset.”

  We come out of the station then onto the same street we left hours before. Cars still move slowly down Court. Luna steps up to the curb and starts crossing just as the light turns.

  “I like Tessa,” she says. “I always have. And this situation sucks. But I think you have to let yourself off the hook a little. You’re not dating the guy. You said you were sorry. She’ll come around.” She glances at me. “And you’re the one who gave up a guy you really liked.”

  I smile. “He was pretty great.”

  Most of the storefronts have their metal grates rolled down, and the street looks different. Lonely. We turn at Schermerhorn and the bookstore is lit up but empty.

  My mind makes a connect-the-dots further back in our conversation. “You think Dad is B-list?” I say.

  Luna considers this. “I don’t know. He did pretty well with the critics on the last one. Pitchfork says he’s a ‘musician’s musician.’” She makes the air quotes. “I think that means he’s good but a lot of people don’t notice.”

  “Some people do, though.”

  She nods. We pass the wall where the Catcher book box had been, and I see that it’s gone.

  “I’m pretty sure junior prom is supposed to suck,” Luna says. “Like, it’s a law or something. I went with Rob Markham. Do you remember him?”

  I do, a little. He was tall with blond hair, and he wore a dark blue vest that matched Luna’s dress, which had a beaded top and a full chiffon skirt. She’d found it in a vintage shop. When she’d put her hair in a bouffant and done her makeup, she looked like a time traveler from the 1950s.

  “He put his hand on my ass during the first dance and after that, I spent most of the rest of them in the bathroom with Leah.” She smiles. “It’s not that I have a problem with guys putting their hands on my ass. But I have to really like them back.” She hops down the stairs toward her apartment door, the guitar case still swinging next to her. She puts her key in the lock. “I learned an important lesson, though.”

  “What?” I follow her through the door into the glow of the foyer.

  Luna lowers her voice. “Hiding out by the toilets can be preferable to spending one more minute with an idiot.” She turns and starts climbing the stairs.

  What was my lesson? I wonder. That you can’t trust things that happen when the sky is starlit and you’ve had too much pink wine? Or maybe it’s that secrets aren’t permanent, that they break open and spill out before you can stop them. Maybe things would have been different if I’d returned Ben’s texts in the days after prom, but I just turned off my phone and tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. I imagined stopping those messages somewhere up in the satellites, above the atmosphere, like I should have stopped him from kissing me.

  twenty-three

  WHEN I WAKE THE NEXT MORNING, it’s past ten o’clock and the apartment is full of light. I’ve stretched my legs out onto the arm of the couch, crossed at the ankle, and my left foot is completely asleep. I sit up slowly and then stand, my whole leg tingling. I hop on one foot, trying to shake life into the other. The living room is empty, and Luna and James’s bedroom door is still closed.

  When I fell asleep last night, I was thinking about Tessa and Ben, so now that I’m awake my brain is
still trying to put that whole story in order. Three weeks after prom, after dark on the last day of exams, Tessa texted me at ten thirty and asked me to meet her at the swings. I knew she must have sneaked out by trellis in order to get out of the house that late, but I didn’t have to do that. My mother was at a conference in Toronto.

  I didn’t bother to change out of my sleep clothes, so I walked down the quiet street in ballet flats and yoga pants. I took Dusty on her leash and she tried to sniff every tree on the way, but I pulled her along. The street lamps threw pale halos of light on the sidewalk, which made the spaces between seem darker.

  In the park, Tessa sat on the curved rubber seat of a swing, holding on to the chains with both hands. She wore jeans and a long sweater, and her nail polish was chipped and ballerina pink.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?” I dropped the leash and Dusty snuffled over to the pole of the swing set. “I was already in my pj’s. You’re keeping me up past my bedtime.” I sat down on the closest swing and twisted it so I was facing her, but she kept looking ahead toward the street.

  “He told me,” she said.

  I dug my feet into the sand so I’d stay still on the swing. “Who told you?”

  “Who do you think? Ben. I called him.”

  I felt a chill and wrapped my sweater tighter around my waist. “What did he say?”

  “He says he likes you, and that he’s sorry.” The word sounded harsh in her mouth. “He says he told you that at prom, when you guys were in the woods. He says you kissed.”

  My heart was thumping behind my ribs. “Tessa, I—”

  “Don’t.” She raised one hand like a stop sign. “I get that you’re the pretty one—”

  “No!”

  “—and you’re the interesting one.” She looked at me then. “But how could you not tell me?”

  I let myself twist on the swing again. I had to look away from her. “I thought it would ruin prom for you. He was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing.” I said this, but it was a lie. He knew.

 

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