“Tell him I hope he feels better,” I said, and then realized how dumb that sounded. “I mean his stomach. Whatever. You don’t have to tell him anything.”
She smiled. “I’ll tell him.”
She turned, and the doors closed behind her. I pushed the elevator button and waited, listening to the click of the receptionist’s nails typing on her keyboard.
When I got outside, I breathed in the air and blew out the stale hospital smell that seemed like it was stuck in my nostrils.
I sat in my car and pulled out my phone. Another call from Rebecca. One from Chris. A text from Jasmine, one of the drama club girls, asking if I had a red scarf she could borrow for an audition. And a text from Mom asking if I would please pick up her dry cleaning while I was in town. And one from Scott.
SCOTT: Hey. Sorry bout Nantucket, kid. Heard ur way bummed. I’m such a fuck-up, huh? At least I must make you look good, tho!
I dropped my forehead onto the steering wheel and tried to massage out an ache that seemed like it would never go away.
CHAPTER SIX
At seven thirty on Monday morning, I grabbed a handful of M&Ms from the antique Chinese urn in the living room, which happened to be Mom’s secret chocolate-fix stash. Gavin was still asleep. He’d sleep until ten. I thought Mom had already gone to her spinning or Zumba or whatever brand of torture she’d chosen for the morning, but she was still in the garage when I got to my car. She was decked out in a ridiculously expensive black and pink gym outfit—black sneakers, her hair in a perfect blond ponytail.
“Where are you off to so early?” she asked, eying my very short cut-offs, flip-flops, loosely held-back dreadlocks, and the breakfast M&Ms halfway up to my mouth. Damn, I hated being caught in the act.
“I got a job,” I said. We both got in our cars, so now we were talking through the windows. Ridiculous.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah, Mom, really.”
“No need to give me attitude, Macy. Can’t we ever have one simple, easy conversation?”
“Sure,” I said. “When? Now?”
“That would be nice. Where will you be working?”
“I will be working as a camp counselor at Marwood Club,” I said with the fakest polite smile I could manage.
“Really?” I couldn’t read what was in the “really”—pleasant surprise that I got a job there or skeptical surprise that I could get a job there?
“Well, how did you get it? Did you talk to Darren?”
“Of course I talked to Darren. He gave me the job.” Mom had the look of a woman betrayed. It’s not like she and Darren still hung out. But apparently, women like Mom get extra territorial over their gay male friends.
“I didn’t know you were interested in working with children, particularly at Marwood,” she said softly.
“Well, since you cancelled Nantucket, I figured I should have something to do.”
“That’s great, Macy. I’m proud of you for taking initiative. What time do you finish up? Do you want to meet up at the café after?”
How to play this? She was being nice. I could try to be nice too.
“Sorry, Mom, I can’t. I promised Rebecca I’d check out Juice Paradise with her.”
“Oh, Rebecca and her diets,” she said.
“Yeah. I’ll see you there, I guess,” I said. Mom started backing out at the same time as me. We both stopped at the same time. We both laughed, awkwardly.
“You go first,” she said.
“Okay.” Was she just being polite or did she want to judge my driving? I did a perfect backward three-point turn and waited for the automatic gate at the end of the driveway to open. I waved in my rearview mirror as she came up behind me.
She honked then and got out of her car. Now what? She trotted over to me and leaned into my window.
“Did Scotty get in touch with you?” she asked. “He felt so bad about our trip getting cancelled, and he wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Yeah, he texted me.”
I should have known she’d put him up to that text.
“Don’t forget he and Yoli are coming for dinner tomorrow night,” Mom said. Yoli was a big shot gallery owner in Chelsea. She was exotic, model-gorgeous, brilliant, a Harvard grad, blah blah blah. Even I could have fallen in love with her.
“Mom, I can’t. I have plans,” I lied.
“Six o’clock,” she said.
I smacked the steering wheel hard and started driving. She got back in her car and followed me the whole way to the Club. As an employee, I had to park way down the road and walk. She waved and tooted her horn as she drove past me toward a primo spot in the front of the Club. When I knew she couldn’t see me, I gave her the finger.
“I can’t believe you’re here. I really can’t believe it,” Rebecca said as she struggled to put socks on a little boy’s wet feet. We were at the kiddie pool, finishing up free swim. Most of the kids couldn’t really dress themselves, so we were getting them ready to go to story time. I was helping Darren’s daughter, Avery, pull on her shorts. She grabbed me around my head as I pulled them up.
“Macy?” Avery said, touching my dreads. “Your hair is so beautiful.” I thought of Sebastian. Did he think my dreads were beautiful? He’d noticed them, but barely.
“Thanks, Avery,” I said. At drop-off in the morning, Avery had clung to Darren, crying, so I’d promised to take extra special care of her. I was surprised by how much I liked her. I had no idea that four-year-olds said such funny shit all the time. Like this little boy Gabe said, “Guess what? Yesterday night my mom farted in the bathtub and it made gigantic bubbles.” They’re just like these miniature people who think they know everything, which sounds annoying but is actually pretty cute when coming from a squeaky-voiced mini-human.
When all the kids were dressed, they put on their backpacks and marched to the giant shady tree for story time. Once they were settled on the grass, eating their goldfish and animal crackers, we got to sit and relax, but Avery made sure she sat right next to me.
I watched the bigger kids, they were probably nine or ten, on the tennis court, drilling. Running forehands and backhands. Watching them brought me right back to being there, those long days of tennis camp. The strong rubber smell of tennis balls, the heat from the court searing the bottoms of my feet, even through my tennis shoes. The thwack thwack sound, bits of ball fuzz flying. I was nine again.
I’d been at tennis camp all day, but now I was lying on my bed reading. I was still wearing my tennis shorts. I smelled like dirt and sweat, and my hands were sticky from the racquet grip. I was procrastinating taking a shower because I was at a really good part in my book—the main character was just about to solve the murder mystery. Before I could get to the best part, Scotty came into my room. Part of me really wanted to tell him I was busy, that I was reading a really good book. But the other part of me was so excited that he’d come into my room. To be with me. He was sixteen. Normally, I didn’t get much more than a “Hey, what’s up?” from him, but when he came to my room, he wanted to be with me.
“What’cha reading?” he asked.
I shrugged, holding the book up. By now, I knew he didn’t really care what I was reading.
“Where’s Deb?” he asked. Scott always called Mom Deb, even though she was practically his mother. I guessed it would be weird if he started calling her Mom, since he had a mom, even if he hardly ever saw her and he called her Judy anyway.
“She went to the Club.”
“She leaves you home alone now?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m responsible.”
“Where’s Gav?” he said.
“Jonathan’s.”
“Do you want to hang out?” he asked, still standing in the doorway. It was what he always said when he wanted to do something. I was tired. I’d spent all day at Marwood with dumb catty girls who just wanted to talk about their crushes on boys and their new nail polish. I didn’t have crushes on boys. I didn’t wear nail polish. I
wanted to read, to be in someone else’s world. I just wanted to be alone.
But again, it was Scott.
“Okay,” I said. He closed the door and sat on the edge of my bed. I folded down the corner of my page.
I’d done everything wrong that day, and I’d felt so completely useless.
I cursed Sebastian under my breath for making me think about this stuff. With my legs stretched out in front of me, I felt grass prickle the backs of my thighs. I focused on the little kids—most of them couldn’t sit still even though they were captivated by Miss Liz’s silly version of Little Red Riding Hood. I watched Avery’s face change from glee to fear as the Big Bad Wolf showed up. And then the craziest thing happened. Without even hesitating, Avery climbed onto my lap and pulled my arms around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
At twelve o’clock, the parents and nannies came to pick up the kids from camp. Avery ran into Darren’s arms. He looked exhausted, holding the baby, carrying a diaper bag and now Avery’s backpack.
“My mother-in-law bailed on me again,” he said. “She has no idea what a pain in the you-know-what this is for me. Now I have to put them in the nursery here. They hate that.”
“Can’t blame ’em,” I said.
“I guess you’d know, huh?” Darren said. “How’d she do?”
“She did great. She took a little while to warm up, but then she had a good time. She didn’t want to go in the big pool, only the kiddie pool.”
Darren sighed, exasperated. Being a pool hater myself, I said, “Swimming isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I know,” he said. “But Kevin was the captain of his college swim team, and you know, the pressure!” At this point, Avery was pulling him by the arm and yelling, “Come onnn, Daddy! I wanna go home now!” I was glad to get off the swimming topic. “Bye, Avery,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” she said.
Darren looked at me curiously. “Do you babysit?”
“Um …” It was an interesting question. Do I? No. Would I? Sure. It would mean more money I’d use when and if I ever got into Berkeley. It would mean I wouldn’t have to be home with Mom so much this summer. And I imagined that hanging out with Avery wouldn’t be so bad either.
“Sure,” I said.
“I’m dying here,” he said as the baby pulled his sunglasses off and jabbed him in the cheek with them. “Maybe a couple of afternoons a week? Just so I can finish stuff up here.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He put his hand under my chin. “You’re a good girl, Miss Macy. Oh, I know you pretend with the hair and the sarcasm. But you are just so good.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to protect.”
Darren finally gave in to Avery’s tugging and turned toward the nursery, waving backwards at me.
Once all the kids were picked up, Rebecca draped her arm over my shoulder.
“Let’s do a last meal lunch before Juice Paradise.”
“Okay,” I said, reluctantly. I wanted to sit underneath my oak tree and reread Sebastian’s letter and remember my visit with him. But making excuses to Rebecca was often more trouble than it was worth, so I agreed to eat.
We went to the outdoor snack bar and ordered burgers and fries. I signed it all to my mom’s account number and then we found a table.
“There’s your mom,” she whispered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her walking from the tennis courts to the main building, her blond ponytail swinging, her toned legs brown underneath her bright white tennis skirt. Evidently, she’d gone straight from cardio to tennis. Her face was tight and her eyes were far away. Even though she wasn’t looking in our direction, I ducked.
“Jeez,” Rebecca said. “This is going to be a long summer.”
“No, it’s not that bad. Just weird, I guess. She was actually pretty cool this morning when I told her I’d be working here.”
“So you told her?”
“Only out of necessity. We were leaving the house at the same time.”
My phone buzzed with a text.
CHRIS: Hey what’s up?
“Who’s that?” Rebecca said.
“Chris. He started at his dad’s law firm.”
My phone buzzed again.
CHRIS: U there? I’m bored.
“So,” she said. “When are you going to tell me where you were yesterday?”
I wasn’t going to keep my visit to Sebastian a secret. I didn’t have anything to hide.
“I visited Sebastian at the hospital.”
“Um, that is not what I was expecting you to say. And why in the world did you do that?”
I knew she’d have a dramatic reaction. Drama was what she did best.
“Take it down a notch,” I said. “This is serious.”
“Okay …” she said, drawing out the ay.
“Remember I talked to him at your house that night? And then he went straight to the hospital the next day, so I thought maybe I—I don’t know. Anyway, his mom put me on his visitor list, so I went. It was weird. I mean, have you ever been to one of those places? It was bizarre. Depressing. He didn’t try to kill himself, by the way. He’s just depressed and he’s an addict. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you that. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”
“Oh my god,” she said. “Can I talk?”
I nodded.
“What the hell?” she said. “This is the first I’m hearing about this? You’re freaking me out. Who is this guy? Do you even know anything about him?”
“It’s Sebastian Ruiz, Beck. We go to school with him. He’s in my English class.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think so, Mace. I don’t think you need this. This sounds big. I mean … this guy’s in the psych ward. He’s like, mentally fucked up. No. Not good.”
“Excuse me?” I said. Rebecca hadn’t ever really talked to me like that before.
“That didn’t come out right,” she said. “I just don’t understand why you would want to take that on. I mean, if it were me or Chris in the psych ward, that would be one thing. But you don’t even know this guy.”
She looked up at me and her eyes looked hurt.
“What’s happening here?” I asked. “Are you jealous?”
“No!” she said. “It’s not that. It’s just scary. Too real and like, so big. Jordan had a girlfriend once—she was really unstable, and she ended up killing herself. I mean, it was way after they broke up, but still. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Jordan was Rebecca’s second oldest brother.
“It was just one visit. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”
She wasn’t completely wrong. I didn’t know how stable Sebastian was. And I didn’t know how much I could handle. But it was the real that made me know it wasn’t just one visit. I knew I’d go back.
“So, what’s the deal with Juice Paradise?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“I don’t know,” she said, frowning slightly. I could tell she was trying to decide whether to let me out of this conversation.
“Let’s blow it off,” I said. “You don’t need it.”
“Hollywood, Macy. Hollywood does not tolerate fat girls.” And with that, I knew she had let Sebastian go. For now.
“You don’t have an ounce of fat on you, Beck.”
“I am not skinny,” she said as our burgers arrived, dripping with grease, the plates spilling over with perfect McDonald’s-look-alike fries. “Not skinny enough for Hollywood.” She stuck a fry in her mouth. “Yum! This is the best last meal ever!” This was probably our tenth “last meal” together.
CHRIS: U there?
“Just text him back,” she said.
“Fine.”
ME: Hey. @ Marwood still. Lunch w R.
CHRIS: How was 1st day?
ME: Not 2 bad.
CHRIS: Hope kids didn’t tire u out 2 much 4 2nite. ;)
Instinctively, I grimaced. I didn’t want the flashbacks, the stuff
with Sebastian to affect things with Chris. I wanted to still be a make-believe normal girlfriend. Everything had been headed on the track to just fine.
ME: Not sure yet bout 2nite.
CHRIS: LMK. Say hi to R.
“He says hi,” I said to Rebecca, putting the phone down.
“Hi,” she said, her mouth full of fries. “You going to tell him about Sebastian?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” But I hadn’t thought about it before that moment.
I should have thought about it. Chris was my boyfriend. He had been for six months. Even though it wasn’t something I’d been looking for, I had said yes, and now I had to live with it, because the alternative meant losing him, and I had never lived without Chris in my life.
When we were eight, Chris and I created a shortcut through the woods behind our houses. By zigzagging through the tangle of trees and thorns, we shaved minutes off our time to get to each other, which meant more time to play knights and ride our bikes. By sixth grade, we’d worn a pretty good path through the woods and had erected a decent fort with a tree branch roof where we could sit and pretend we were cool. We’d never shared our fort with anyone. It was just for us.
Our fort had always been our place for friendship and talking and games. But six months ago, things changed. It was December, a clear night, not too cold. Neither of us had been ready for the night to end after one of Rebecca’s bigger Saturday night parties, so we agreed to check in for our curfews and then sneak out to our fort. We each brought a couple of beers. We were lounging around, rehashing the party, giving odds on how long it would be until Cody realized Rebecca was totally in love with him.
“I saw you hanging out with Cameron Levinsky,” Chris said suddenly, fiddling with a bottle cap.
“Mm-hm,” I said, taking a swig of my beer, letting the bubbles tickle my throat. I’d hooked up with Cameron that night. We’d found our way into one of the bedrooms and had very quick, mediocre sex. I’d had sex with him before once or twice. He was a decent guy.
Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Why do you screw all those losers?” he asked.
My body tensed. “I’m not sure I understand the question, Chris.” I was ready to get up and walk away. And he knew it.
The Fix Page 6