The Tension of Opposites

by Kristina McBride

  Jessie snorted. Tabby and Kirsten reared back like they had just been slapped.

  “Enjoy yourself while you can.” Jessie leaned forward. “Because your ride is almost over.”

  I studied Kirsten’s and Tabby’s faces, the glimmer in each of their eyes giving away how much they were relishing every second of this showdown.

  “You’re terrified, aren’t you?” Elle took a step forward and looked right at Jessie.

  Jessie just stared at Elle, her eyes narrowing so that all I could see were thick lashes.

  “You’re not so sure he’ll make his way back to you,” Elle said.

  Tabby clasped Kirsten’s hand and tucked it under her arm.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Jessie tilted her head.

  Kirsten nudged Tabby’s side with her elbow.

  “Puh-lease,” Elle said. “I may not have been back that long, but everybody, and I mean everybody, knows you’re freaking out.”

  Jessie shrugged. “All I can tell you is you’re wasting your time with him.”

  Elle chuckled. “Funny. That’s exactly what Chip said about all the years he was with you.”

  Gasps flew through the air, varying in length and intensity. Jessie looked to the ground.

  “And by the way,” Elle added, “I didn’t have to steal anything. Chip was very willing.”

  When Jessie looked up, I saw tears in her eyes. Her lips trembled, and her cheeks grew mottled with patches of deep red.

  “I’ll bet you made it worth his while,” Jessie said, her words all quivery with anger. “You learned a lot about making a man happy while you were away, didn’t you?”

  Elle pulled back her arm and fisted her hand. I lunged at her, grabbing her elbow with about a millisecond to spare.

  “I see you learned a lot about class, too.” Jessie shook her head.

  “Enough, people, let’s move along,” I heard from outside the perimeter of the circle. “Get back to lunch, or class, or wherever you belong.”

  Jessie turned and stepped toward Tabby and Kirsten, who still hadn’t moved and still had those depraved smiles plastered to their faces. It was like plastic surgery gone wrong.

  “You must feel really dejected if you have to stoop that low,” Elle said as Jessie walked through the dispersing crowd.

  Jessie just waggled her fingers over her shoulder. And then she was gone.

  “Move along, everyone.” The voice was clearer now, and I thought it might be the assistant principal.

  Elle’s eyes scrunched tight, and she took a deep, shaky breath, trying not to cry. A look of fear crossed over her face before she pulled herself together enough to remember she had the upper hand. Chip, for the moment at least, was hers.

  “I gotta go,” she said. “I’m way late for math.”

  “Just try to forget about this,” I said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Elle twisted her hair into a long rope and flung it over her shoulder as she started to walk away. “She’s not going to win.”

  As the last stragglers fanned out, I turned and saw Max propped against a locker. He opened his arms, and I walked toward him. Stepping into his warm body, pressing myself against his comfort, I took in a deep breath of his soapy scent and wished it had the power to cleanse me of everything.

  “Elle,” I said, trying not to shout. I could see her up ahead, rushing through rows of cars glinting in the sun’s rays. The blue-black of her hair, which had begun to fade into a drab brown, swished across her back as she looked from side to side.

  “Elle!” People all around me slung backpacks into their cars, slammed doors, and revved engines, hoping to rush through the end-of-the-day traffic. “Wait up!”

  She heard me. I knew she did. I pushed myself to move faster and finally caught up with her. All I got was her profile as she searched across the sea of cars surrounding us.

  “I don’t know why you’re ignoring me,” I said, “but it’s not going to work.”

  That was when she stopped. Turned. Tilted her head. “I’m busy. What do you want?”

  “To see if you’re okay.” The words hung in the cold air between us. I could see the anger rise to the surface of Elle’s face. She hated to be considered weak. She was always okay.

  “Can’t we just forget about it?” Elle adjusted the strap of her backpack, letting the load drop lower on her back.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “You looked pretty freaked out when Jessie said all that stuff about Chip being hers.”

  “It showed?” Elle’s shoulders slumped.

  “Just because I know you so well.” I scraped the toe of my shoe on the pavement of the parking lot. “You fell for him, didn’t you?”

  “I tried not to.” Elle’s eyes scrunched closed, and lines formed on her forehead. “Like, really tried.”

  My eyes stuttered from Elle’s face to her feet and then back again.

  Elle laughed, her head tipping back. “Looks like I’m screwed.”

  “You never know,” I said. “Maybe they won’t—”

  “Little Miss Perky, always finding the bright side. Do you have some master plan to guarantee I won’t lose him?” Elle raised her eyebrows. “Because Jessie has officially amped up her game.”

  “Maybe it’ll blow up in her face.”

  “Nothing blows up in the faces of girls as pretty as Jessie Richards.” Elle sighed.

  I wanted to say something more, something brilliant that would make all of this go away. But I had nothing. So I just bit my bottom lip.

  Elle looked past me, turned in a static circle, her hand shielding her eyes.

  “You looking for Chip?” I asked.

  “His car’s gone.” Elle pointed at an empty space in one of the front rows of the lot.

  “Maybe he just drove over to the stadium.” I nodded toward the football field.

  Elle stood on her tiptoes and looked toward the tall brick building. A few guys moved around the back entrance to the locker rooms.

  “C’mon,” I said. “It’s really cold. I’ll drive you over there.”

  A few minutes later, I crept the Jeep around the corner near the locker rooms, watching Elle study the pink faces of everyone we passed, counting five bundled bodies before we made our way into the back parking lot.

  “His car isn’t here.” Elle tapped her foot on the floorboard. “So he just left?”

  Her eyes were focused on gray sky, so I didn’t answer. I turned the Jeep around and headed through the main parking lot, reaching for my iPod before I turned onto Main Street.

  “Here,” I said, holding the iPod out. “You pick. Turn it up as loud as you want.”

  She looked into my eyes. “I’m not giving up.”

  “Of course not,” I said, shoving the iPod into her hand.

  I listened to her click her tongue as she ran her thumb along the face of the slim device. And then she said, “Oh, yeah,” and reached forward, twisting the volume on my radio until the clanging guitar strings of Ani DiFranco’s “Outta Me, Onto You” vibrated every cell of my body.

  Wednesday,

  February 10

  20

  Forgettable

  “Lie down.” Max’s feet broke through a thick layer of ice that blanketed the snow-covered ground.

  I pulled at the sides of my wool hat, adjusting it so my ears were covered. “How’d you ever get so smooth?”

  “C’mon,” Max said, pointing his camera at me and clicking a picture. “Just do it so we can get back to the car.”

  “This was your idea,” I said. “I mean, I could have thought of at least ten other ways to spend our snow day.”

  “Ten?”

  “Okay, maybe eight.”

  “Do any of those ideas include us snuggled under a blanket on the couch in my basement?”

  “If I don’t freeze in this ice storm, you might find out.”

  A stiff breeze whipped through the treetops above us. TheThree Sisters groaned under the weight of a half inch of ice clinging to their thick
bodies.

  “The storm passed hours ago, Tessa. It’s probably in Pennsylvania by now.” Max pointed at the ground. “I just need to get three or four shots. Lie down.”

  “You know, some girls would be offended by all these demands.” I knelt on the cold ground.

  “Have you even taken out your camera?”

  I fumbled with the zipper on the black case and pulled my camera into the light.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, lying on the ground, pointing my lens skyward and adjusting the focus. Covered by the ice, everything sparkled and shimmered in the sunlight, giving the woods this glow that was more fairy tale than reality.

  “That’s not right.” Max’s feet crunched toward me. “Look at the picture again.”

  His mittened hand shoved a photograph that he’d taken the previous summer into my face: me lying at the base of the Three Sisters, wearing shorts and a tank top, sweating in the oppressive heat, taking shots from the ground up.

  “I still can’t believe you took pictures of me,” I said. “It’s so stalkeresque.”

  “Stop being so dramatic and pose, will you?”

  “What am I doing wrong?”

  A navy blue finger pointed at my straightened legs, which were half frozen by that point. “In the picture your left leg is bent.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I looked at his face, took in the way his eyes were all crinkled, how his mouth didn’t even hold a hint of a smile. “Okay, fine.” I pulled my left foot toward my body and stuck my tongue out at Max as he turned to walk away.

  “Perfect.” I heard the shutter snap as he took several shots. “Talk about an opposing image.”

  “You’re actually excited about this art show, aren’t you?”

  “I think it sounds kind of cool. I’m interested to see whose projects get tagged with ribbons.”

  “I know mine won’t.” Instinct took over, and I popped off my lens cap. Looking through the little square, I watched the arms of the Three Sisters sway above me. Though I hadn’t planned to, I snapped several shots while Max walked around, trying to find the exact spot he’d been standing when we’d met all those months ago.

  “You never know.” The shutter of Max’s camera snapped three or four more times. “You just might get first place.”

  “Not if I don’t enter.”

  Max walked toward me and helped me up. Pulling me against his body, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You can say you’re not entering all you want. I don’t believe you.”

  Max kissed me on the lips, stifling my reply. I kissed him back, wishing he could understand. When our lips parted, I noticed snowflakes swirling in the air.

  “It’s not just that I’m terrified—which I am, by the way,” I said. “It’s all this stuff with Elle. Something needs to happen.”

  “Like what?”

  “Jessie being flattened by a meteor.”

  “If she’s gone, Chip might stay with Elle. I thought you hated them together.”

  “I can’t stand it. But I hate the thought of him breaking her heart even more.”

  Max shook his head. “Tessa, Tessa, Tessa.”

  “What?” I grabbed his hand, pulling him up the slope and toward the trail that led us to the parking lot.

  “You’re getting too caught up in everything with Elle. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I trudged up a small hill, watching my breath crystallize in the air.

  “Pretty much exactly what I said.” Max stopped a step ahead of me and shrugged. I looked at the branches behind him. They clicked against one another, all rushed and frenzied in the bitter gusts of air. It was like they were trying to tell us something important.

  “Elle is my best friend. If you can’t handle—”

  “Tessa! All I’ve been doing is handling it!” Max threw his hands up in the air. His eyes were so wide and held so much frustration that I had to look to the glistening ground. “I’ve been understanding and patient when I didn’t think I could be either of those things for one more second. I’ve tried to give you space, to let you do what you need to do for her.”

  “Max, I know. And I appreciate it. I do. It’s just—”

  “That’s the thing. It’s always just something.” Max rubbed the top of his head with his mittened hand. He sighed and a stream of white breath flew from his mouth. “You mean a lot to me, Tessa. I want to be supportive. But you’re too wrapped up in all her drama. And you’re starting to make me feel a little crazy.”

  I looked at Max, hot tears springing to my eyes. “I have to be there for her.”

  “Of course you do. But you’re trying too hard to be her safety net.” Max’s lips pinched tight. “It’s great to support someone after she falls. But you’re gonna break yourself if you keep trying to hold her up. Don’t you get that?”

  “No,” I said, my foot stomping into the snow. “I don’t get it. This girl has been my best friend all of my life. I would do anything for her. Least of all, by the way, would be breaking myself to help her. Because she didn’t fall, Max. She was shoved down and ground into the cement, pulverized by the heel of someone’s shoe.”

  “Listen,” Max said, his tone as crisp as the air, “I’m not trying to trivialize what happened to Elle. For one freaking conversation, though, I’d like to take the focus off her and put it on us.”

  “Don’t you mean on you?”

  Max’s shoulders stiffened. “This,” Max said, looking at me with frozen eyes, “is about the part of me that wants to be with you, Tessa. If you can’t …” Max bent at the waist, propping his hands on his knees, staring down at the ground like it was just too much to look at me. Seeing him like that made me want to run.

  I looked past Max, to the clickety-clackety branches, whose message suddenly became clear. If I kept it up, I was going to lose him. The problem was, I didn’t know how to stop myself. Not when it came to Elle.

  I balled my numb hands into fists and squeezed as tight as I could. I wanted to scream and scream and scream. I was screwing everything up. And I didn’t have the strength to pull myself off the path I had chosen. I had to play it out. To see where everything would fall in the end. I just hoped I wouldn’t find myself standing alone.

  “Max, I’m sorry.” My words shivered in the air between us. “This whole thing with Elle, I can’t explain it. It’s just so huge. I know I’m doing things wrong every time I turn around. But I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Some days”—Max straightened up and stared at the treetops—“your best makes me feel like you couldn’t care less.”

  “Do you need me to tell you that you’re important to me? That being with you is the only thing that really feels safe and right in this crazy mess?”

  Max’s lips parted in the hint of a smile. “It would be nice.” He looked at me, his chocolaty eyes melting.

  “Well …” I glanced down at the ground, kicked at the snow with the toe of my boot. “It’s true.”

  I looked at him just as the shutter opened and captured me.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Your cheeks are all pink, and a few snowflakes just landed on your lashes. Had to take it.” Max shivered and grabbed my hand. “All I’m asking is that you stop making me feel like I’m so … forgettable.”

  “You’re hardly forgettable,” I said with a smile, rubbing a mittened finger across his lips.

  “That’s certainly nice to hear.” Max wrapped his arm around my waist, and we resumed walking toward the car.

  “I’m thinking hot chocolate,” I said, tucking my hand into the curve of his waist.

  “Under the blanket on my couch?”

  “Sure.” I laughed, trying to force the leftover tension from the air. “Let’s go!”

  We raced to his car and flung open the doors, scrambling into the front seat. I’m pretty sure we both had the same idea, because we both tugged off our mittens at the same moment. After Max turned the key in the Mustang’s i
gnition and the car rumbled to life, he looked at me and said, “We’d better let it warm up.”

  Loving that every other space in the parking lot was empty, I leaned toward him, my lips parted, ready to commence with my newfound favorite pastime.

  “But I’m so cold,” I said, pouting my lips. I’d read in Glamour that guys like pouty lips, and yes, I’d even practiced the look in the mirror.

  Max tugged at the zipper of my coat and grinned. “I think I can help you with that,” he whispered as his lips brushed against mine.

  Thursday,

  February 18

  21

  Do You Believe in Ghosts?

  “Tess, don’t you think it’s time we get to know him?” My mother was standing at the kitchen counter, a few dozen naked cupcakes spread out in front of her. A glass mixing bowl filled with homemade strawberry icing was shoved to her left.

  “I thought you were going to frost some with chocolate,” I said, plucking a cupcake from the end of one row. I plunged a knife into the icing and plopped some on top before peeling off the paper wrapper.

  “I didn’t have all the ingredients. And with the storm coming, I had no desire to deal with the crowd that’s bound to be at the store.” My mother swept her wrist along her forehead, pushing from her face bangs that had fallen from the clip holding back her hair. “Did you hear what I asked you?”

  I nodded, pinching off a bit of cupcake and putting it into my mouth. “I was ignoring you.”

  My mother looked at me and tilted her head. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with this boy, Tessa.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mom, if you think I’m gonna have him over for some family dinner, you’re crazy.”

  “Why?” My mother dipped a plastic spatula in the bowl and started her well-perfected process of applying icing. When she finished, it would look like tiny waves were rolling across the top of each cupcake. “Your father and I aren’t so bad, are we?”

  “It has nothing to do with you.” I licked some pink goo off my fingers. “It’s just too formal. I’m not even sure what to call us right now.”