Spiral

by Jacqueline Levine

  “Mom!” She knows I hate it when people touch my hair. Now I have to find the closest mirror and fix it.

  “Sorry, my goodness!” She shakes her head and turns away. “His father through and through,” she mutters under her breath, as if I can’t hear her.

  I hate when she says that. “What was that?”

  “I said your Aunt Darla and your cousin Leroy just got here. Come say hello,” she huffs.

  I smack a hand over my eyes. “Oh, brother.” I’d forgotten all about the additional cast of characters that Christmas Eve brings.

  DIRTERAZZI.COM

  CHERIE BELLE IN LAX, HEADING EAST FOR CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS

  Dirterazzi caught up with teen queen, Cherie Belle, in LAX yesterday afternoon, even though she was trying to hide behind her famous oversized sunglasses. Wearing Heiress boots that matched her Heiress suitcases, the sixteen year old looked like a walking advertisement for the designer brand as she waited in line at security with her assistant, Danika Shields. Also at her side were her adoring father, Mark, and her mother, Camille Goldman, who also happens to be a genuine MILF. Her father was more than happy to carry his cash-cow daughter’s carry-ons while she texted friends and answered some of our questions. The one question she wouldn’t answer: Who was on the other end of those texts she’s sending?

  Ahem, could it be Caz Farrell, perhaps?

  CHAPTER 2

  Leroy enters the room, the very caricature of a teenage nerd you’d see on TV. He is wearing large glasses and has a book tucked under his arm. His pants are high enough that his ankles show, and he is wearing a sweater vest and a tie. His book is titled, “If Your Brain Could Talk…And It Does!” He is smiling and is too happy to see me.

  “Hey there, first cousin! Long time no see!” He greets me with a slap to the shoulder.

  “I saw you at the wedding, Leroy. That was two months ago,” I remind him patiently. I have to be patient with Leroy. Something small inside of me makes me do it, maybe a shred of sympathy for how unabashedly clueless my cousin could be to his own social awkwardness.

  Plus, I need him tonight. He’s my only real ally against the girls, no question about it. He’s not much of an ally in this department; it’s kind of like pulling in a first-year kicker when you need a senior quarterback, but he’s still on the same team. It’s him and me versus the Unholy Trinity – Chloe, Claudia, and Evil Britney, the girl she turns into when the twins are present.

  Leroy snorts with laughter. “Well, two months can be a long time if you’re a tadpole. Did you know that it takes anywhere from three days to three weeks for a tadpole to break free into water after it leaves its egg? Two months would be an eternity!”

  And so it begins….Leroy will never lose his penchant for spitting out the wildest facts about anything and everything. He’s got something to say about all topics, whether or not they actually make sense in the moment. Now and then he shares some pretty cool stuff, but usually it’s just weird, random crap.

  “Oh my God, look at this place! Eva, it’s so fabulous in here!” Leroy’s mom, Aunt Darla, comes floating in. She is dressed in one of her trendy, near-teenager outfits. My mom’s sister is four years younger and even younger at heart, and that’s putting it nicely. She’s that woman who is always making references to things only kids talk about and who yawns dramatically at adult conversations. What’s weirder is she couldn’t be any less like her own son. He acts like he’s forty, and she still thinks she’s seventeen. She’s divorced, too, but judging by her carefree attitude, something tells me it was her decision. Tonight she is awed and distracted by the bright lights and shiny colors of our spruced-up house.

  “Jack!” She’s also way too excited to see me, smiling from ear to ear as she throws her arms around me.

  “Hi Aunt Darla,” I reply meekly. She hugs too tight and kisses my cheek, and I can feel an inch of lip gloss left behind.

  “How is my handsome nephew? You’re getting so tall! You’re bigger than me!” She says this every year. “So sorry about your break-up with Katrina; she was such a sweet thing. Any new girlfriends yet, or are you still on the market? How’s school? What is with all the hair gel?”

  I feel my face flush as she inspects me and my personal life, only pulling back when she tries to fuss with my hair. That’s one thing I refuse to tolerate.

  “Um, school’s okay.” I try to wipe off the gloss without her noticing. “Katrina’s whatever.” I’d tell Darla that my mean-girl step-sisters are the real reason my ex and I broke up, but she’s running like a motor.

  “That’s so unfortunate, honey. She was lovely at the wedding; such a beautiful dress. What happened? Come, Aunt Darla wants to hear all about it!” And she’s off! She takes my hand and walks me through the room. “Where are the twins? Did you get your senior license yet? Leroy has been practicing for his driver’s test for two weeks now!” She gently rubs his shoulder. “We go out to the mall together, and he drives to the movie theatre – we saw that new Caz Farrell movie together, did you see it?”

  “No, I didn’t.” My reply is a murmur as I peer at my hair in the closest mirror. It’s fine, and so is my amount of hair gel.

  Leroy rolls his eyes. “I think my mom is infatuated with Caz Farrell.” When I squint at him, he mumbles, “Don’t get me started.”

  Just as Darla is calming, the twins emerge from the kitchen, side by side, and Darla bubbles over again when she sees them.

  Claudia, the only-slightly-nicer-if-you’re-really-paying-attention twin, lights up and gives Darla a big hug. Claudia is Darla’s number one fan. Chloe, however, is not as interested. She has a dirty look for my aunt, as usual, and looks her up and down. I’ve seen that look before at school, especially when I’m talking to a girl and Chloe doesn’t approve. It gets under my skin then, and it really gets under my skin now.

  Stay cool. Ignore her, I tell myself.

  Darla sings, “Hey, girlfriend! What’s happening? Look at you – is that top from Forever 21? I almost bought it the other day, but I didn’t like how it made my shoulders look…”

  “Oh my God, yes it is!” Claudia sings out. “You always have the best taste!”

  Aunt Darla beams, idolized by someone in the room. “Just wait ‘til you see your gift, girl!”

  Chloe hisses, “You still shop at Forever 21? Isn’t that, like, a teenager store?”

  Darla, ever the optimist, shrugs good-naturedly. “You know what they say: you’re only as old as you feel!”

  Chloe’s eyes burn with contempt. “Don’t they also say act your age?”

  I’m about to step in and save my innocent aunt when she simply waves the demonic cat off and fusses over Claudia some more. This makes Chloe turn scarlet with anger or embarrassment, I’m not sure which. All I know is that I don’t have to do anything about it.

  Suddenly, Brenton comes flailing down the stairs, his eyes alight.

  “Is she here?” His head whips around in all directions, and he darts from doorway to doorway. “I thought I heard the doorbell ring. Is she here?”

  I cast him the ‘you’re crazy’ look he deserves. “What is wrong with you?”

  Brenton grabs me by the wrists. “Jack, listen to me: Their cousin, the most amazing and talented actress in the history of acting, is coming to dinner. To our house. OUR house, Jack!”

  I almost laugh out loud. “What cousin?”

  Chloe and Claudia immediately appear, Darla-free, and scowling. “He means our cousin, Cher. You know, Cherie Belle?” Chloe replies.

  I take a second to digest this news. I know exactly who that is, but I make sure my tongue doesn’t come lolling out of my mouth. The heat I feel in my chest wants to rise to my cheeks. Why didn’t I know anything about this?

  Quite the opposite of what’s happening inside, I play it cool on the outside. “The girl on that chocolate show on Kidz Network? That Cherie Belle?”

  Brenton, exalted, falls on his knees and throws his hands to the sky. “Oh, just the sound of he
r name makes me crave Belgian Chocolate!”

  Claudia spits, “Get up, Brenton! The last thing little miss celebrity needs is a bigger head.”

  I chime in for effect. “Yeah, that’s not even acting Brenton, it’s just a show about chocolate.” My imagination, however, pants a little at the thought of Cherie Belle walking through my home, sitting at my table…

  Brenton snaps me back to reality before my imagination goes too far. “JUST a show about chocolate? Jack, it is THE show about chocolate – I mean, what a brilliant idea to have a whole show based on chocolate, only the most delectable sweet in the world!”

  Leroy forgets no one was talking to him. “Is that the show ‘Choc It Up?’ I think I’ve seen it. Quite an ingenious concept; I never knew there were so many types of chocolate. Did you know that the cocoa pods symbolized life and fertility to the Mayans?”

  Brenton cocks a suspicious eyebrow. “No, where did you hear that? That wasn’t in any of the episodes; trust me, I have them all memorized.”

  Claudia is irritated but tries to feign genuine interest. “How do you know all this stuff, Leroy?”

  Chloe is not as gentle. “Yeah, who has the time to memorize all this useless information?”

  “Back off,” I command, puffing my chest a little. I am almost a full foot taller than them. They have to listen to me, sort of fear me in that scary, big brother way, even if I kind of see their point.

  Brenton defends him, too. “Yeah, there is nothing useless about chocolate facts!” Aside to Leroy, he whispers, “But how do you know that?”

  Leroy gives his trademark impish shrug. “I read a lot, I guess.” His cheeks are the color of strawberry jell-o, and I grow that much angrier. Even if they’re only sophomores, the twins are still probably the prettiest girls to ever actually talk to him, and they just made him feel like a total loser.

  Just then, the women of the house parade through the room with mouth-watering platters of food. In a seemingly deliberate tango performed to the tune of incessant clucking, these mavens gracefully set portions of sliced turkey, Granny’s casserole, and more deliciousness around the kid table. Watching them makes me forget to be angry, forget Cherie Belle, because my stomach instantly reminds me that I’ve been ready to eat for over an hour.

  Chloe continues her nasty assault on Leroy as the women make their way back into the kitchen.

  “It’s not normal for someone to memorize all that stuff,” she snaps.

  “Well, whatever, let’s just start sitting down,” I interrupt. I go to the staircase and summon my little sister. “Brat, time to eat!”

  Britney comes scampering down and jumps into my arms. I set her into a chair beside me. The others begin sitting at the table one by one with a clear divide of the families. There is an empty seat beside Brenton, and Leroy attempts to sit in it.

  “Hey! That’s Cheecho’s chair!” he complains. He’s had his imaginary friend since kindergarten. My brother received the nerd gene for sure. Maybe it’s because he’s so much younger; it probably skips a generation or something like that. Like how Aunt Darla’s so cool and Leroy’s practically a savant. Well, I’m pretty cool, I think, and my brother’s a complete loser.

  Leroy is confused but accepts it. “Okay, I guess I’ll go sit by the girls.”

  Chloe holds up her hand before he can sit beside her. “Uh, no way Factmonster!” They giggle together.

  I roll my eyes, too busy pouring Britney’s juice to reach across the table and choke them. “You girls are so stupid,” is the best I can do. For now.

  Brenton is flabbergasted. “Yeah, you know we need a seat for Cheecho!”

  Chloe sighs. “Brenton, Cheecho doesn’t exist. Let your cousin sit there.”

  Brenton is now at Level: Horrified. “How dare you!”

  Claudia looks at me imploringly. “Jack, tell your super-weird little brother that his imaginary friend needs to go sit at the imaginary friend table!”

  I hold my head. “Pass the turkey please.”

  Leroy takes his place beside Brenton after a slight struggle. “Don’t you think it would be polite to wait for Cherie?”

  CHAPTER 3

  As if on cue, we hear the doorbell chime. There is a lot of commotion at the front door. The twins instinctively roll their eyes to each other. Brenton sits up at attention. Even my stomach lurches a little bit. Mark and Camille, the twins’ aunt and uncle, come fluttering through to say their hellos. They are overly tanned with blindingly white teeth and leave a cloud of obnoxious European colognes behind. They quickly retreat back into the main dining room with gusto. Finally, we hear the exaggeratedly baby-high voice of none other than Cherie Belle.

  “Oh my gosh, I KNOW! Isn’t it wild?” Like an angel, she enters the room, practically adorned by an aura of light. Her bouncy, blond curls help her pink, glossed smile scream innocent young teenager. Her big green eyes flash with the same “I’m perfect and I know it” sparkle that her cousins have, except better and brighter. She’s the epitome of gorgeous. I shift in my chair. Do I get up? Do I welcome her to our home?

  No, I chastise myself, don’t be ridiculous. The twins notice my indecisiveness and shake their heads in disapproval. I look over at Leroy, who is already nose-deep in his book, as if none of this is happening. At least I’m not the most awkward person here.

  An older girl follows Cherie into the room. She is slightly less glamorous and holds a planner in one hand and a cellphone in the other. She’s not an actress who I recognize. Best friend or assistant? I can’t tell. They are both dressed in matching, fluffy fur outfits.

  Cherie turns and shouts over her shoulder, “Thanks Uncle Jim! Thanks Eva.”

  She makes sure none of the adults are looking before sticking her finger down her throat to fake a gag. Her assista-friend laughs, and they continue to walk toward the table haughtily. Cherie takes in the scene with disgust as she begins to remove gloves that reach up to her elbows. Brenton is frozen for a moment in shock and awe. Then, he rushes forward and throws himself at her feet.

  “Welcome to our home!” he says, bent over like he is praying to a goddess.

  “Brenton!” I hiss. “Get up!” He ignores me. If my face could get any hotter, my skin would melt.

  Cherie also doesn’t acknowledge me, too disgusted by my embarrassing little brother. “Seriously?” She steps over Brenton, who accepts his unworthiness while a piece of him dies. She pats his head, and he comes alive again, as if touched by an angel. As we all stare in subdued shock, the conversation with her matching apostle goes a little like this:

  Cherie: “Ugh, this is so common.”

  Assista-friend: “So common.”

  Cherie: “I’m a prisoner for the next two hours.”

  Assista-friend: “Oh, this is totally jail.”

  Cherie: “Who ever heard of Westchester anyway?”

  Assista-friend: “No one goes upstate except to ski or pick apples.”

  Cherie: “I mean, like, it’s cute and quaint in that homey sort of way –”

  Assista-friend: “Yeah, yeah, it’s cute – ”

  Cherie: “ – if you like that sort of thing.”

  Assista-friend: “ – which is so not our speed.”

  Until this moment, I had been pretty sure this kind of stuff only happens in movies. They’ve proven me wrong.

  Cherie, looking around with concern, stops her assista-friend in her tracks. “Danika, you don’t think The Gazer is outside, do you? These New York tabloids are ruthless, you know.”

  Danika replies, “I was very careful when I scoped out the place. It’s clean.”

  “Great.” She approaches the table with Danika still at her heels. “Happy Hanukkah, everyone. Claudia. Chloe.”

  Chloe sniffs, “Why, look what the trash magazines dragged in.”

  Claudia will tolerate none of her cousin’s insensitivity. “It’s Happy Holidays, Cherie, not Happy Hanukkah. Notice the giant Christmas tree? We celebrate both now.”

  Cherie smiles da
ggers at her. “How nice for you.” She looks at me, and my heart stops. Her eyes twinkle, and she turns on her TV smile, extending her hand dramatically toward me. “And you are…?”

  There is nothing cool about how I nearly trip over myself to stand as she approaches. I’m stuttering slightly as I shake her hand. “I – I’m Jack Hansen.”

  Cherie studies me, her eyes moving up and down my clothes and then back to my face. She approves me with a short, high-pitched “Mmmhmm,” then looks to Leroy, who is immersed in his book and has missed everything that has happened from the moment she entered. Cherie clears her throat and goes unnoticed. One of her eyebrows rises a little at his disinterest.

  “I see. Curious fellow.” She rolls her eyes to Danika and groans, “Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  She sits down beside Claudia, and Danika looks at Claudia as if she should know she will have to move. I realize that the table is one seat short, and my mom will flip if she finds out she’s forgotten to set a place for a guest.

  But the girls are no help. Claudia growls, “Don’t even think about it.”

  Danika looks to Chloe, who bites, “Get your own chair.” The girl looks on to the next seat, which is Britney’s.

  Britney, always taking her cue from the older girls, shouts, “Get your own!”

  “Brat, don’t be rude,” I scold quietly. I stand again to give my chair away, but Brenton quickly scoots his chair all the way to that end of the table to offer it to the girls. He sets it right beside Danika, who takes it with a short, “Thanks.”

  He practically salutes her. “Brenton Hansen, at your service. I’m Cherie’s number one fan.” Brenton, breathless, puts his hands on his hips and declares, “Any friend of Cherie’s is a friend of mine.”

  Chloe scoffs, “You may have to lose Cheecho with that mindset.”

  “Yeah, Cherie doesn’t believe in imaginary friends,” adds Claudia unhelpfully.

  Oh no. “Okay, we should really start to eat – ” I announce.