“You have chocolate all over your face” is the first thing she says to me. She licks her thumb and aims for my cheek, but I duck away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in disbelief.
“I heard about you and Levi.”
I sit up and blink the sleep out of my eyes, finally taking note of my surroundings. My room is a disaster. I’m a disaster. My comforter is falling off the bed, there’s an empty pint of ice cream on my nightstand, and my clothes are scattered all over the floor. Annie is already tidying up my desk area, humming to herself.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, organizing my notebooks into a neat pile.
“Crappy.”
“I’ll bet.”
“How is Levi doing?” I ask, feeling a pang as I say his name aloud.
She hesitates. “I didn’t really see him today.”
“He didn’t sit with you guys at lunch?” I press.
“Nope,” she says shortly. She sweeps my empty ice-cream carton into the wastebasket. “He’s an idiot.”
“He’s got the highest GPA in the eleventh grade,” I point out.
“He’s still an idiot.”
“Can you stop cleaning my room, please?” I ask.
Annie pauses, her arms full of my clothes. “Let me just put these in the hamper. You don’t realize how much a mess can affect your mood. It’s all about the feng shui.”
“All right,” I sigh, too drained to argue.
“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to tell you everything I hate about Levi? I’m prepared to do either.”
“There’s not much to say about it,” I say. “He didn’t like me enough. He dumped me.”
“Stop it, Vi. This isn’t about him not liking you enough. You guys weren’t right for each other.” Annie puts my clothes away, then rummages around in her backpack and pulls out a sheet of notebook paper and a pen. “Time to make a list.”
Annie believes that any problem can be solved with organized thinking.
“I want you to think of everything you didn’t like about Levi,” she instructs.
“This isn’t going to help . . .”
“Yes it will. You need to stop thinking of yourself as the problem.”
“All right, all right.” I fluff the pillows behind me and lean against them. “I guess . . . it kind of bothered me how he always put work first.”
“Good start,” Annie says, jotting it down.
“And he never listened to any of the music I recommended. Only Sigur Rós. He’s obsessed with Sigur Rós.”
“What else?” Annie prods.
“He’s spoiled,” I say. My mind is dusting off its wheels and slowly grinding back to work. “He bought me tights for Valentine’s Day.”
“You can’t be serious,” Annie says.
“Sadly, I am.”
“I have one,” Annie says. “No passion. Remember? You said you wished he would just take you.”
“Levi would never take anyone,” I say. “And he was an okay kisser, but nothing amazing. Add that to the list.”
We work diligently on the list for another few minutes. When Annie reads it aloud, it says:
Why Levi Sucks
1. Puts work first
2. Boring taste in music
3. Spoiled
4. Not romantic
5. No passion
6. Probably bad at sex
7. Kissing skills are mediocre
8. Terrible dancer
9. Bossy
10. Critical
11. Self-centered
“Uses too much hair gel,” I add, thinking of Strand.
Annie writes it down and tacks the paper onto my wall, right above my desk. “To be continued,” she says. “It helps, right?”
“It does. But he wasn’t all bad . . .”
“Vi, hush. You don’t talk about the good stuff when the breakup is this fresh.”
“Right.”
She pauses, then, “Can I ask you something?”
“I guess so,” I reply, because I know Annie and she’ll ask me what she wants, with or without my permission.
“Were you with Levi because you liked him or because you were scared?”
“Scared?” I repeat. “Scared of what?”
“I don’t know. Scared of being alone, scared of going after something you really want.”
“I was with Levi because . . .” It’s something I don’t know how to explain. Annie sits there, waiting as I try to put my thoughts into words. “I thought it would be enough.”
She flattens her lips like she’s holding herself back.
“I wasn’t scared,” I insist. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“If you say so . . .” She pauses, then asks hesitantly, “What’s going to happen with the band?”
I look around my room, anywhere but her eyes. “There’s no more band.”
“For now, I know—”
“No, Ann. For good.”
“I still think if you sat down with your parents and explained everything, they would come around.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
“You have to try, Vi. And what about the Battle of the Boroughs?”
“It’s not gonna happen.”
“But you love the band! And you guys have a shot at winning. Krina said—”
“Annie.”
“What?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
For the first time in the history of our friendship, Annie listens. I’m grateful, because the hardest part of breaking up with Levi is breaking up with the band. There’s a finality to it this time, like the window I always kept open is officially shut and locked.
We sit in silence for twenty minutes, and she leaves my apartment right before dinner. I think to myself that even though Levi doesn’t love me, I have plenty of other people who do. And that can be good enough.
Chapter Forty-Six
“NOBODY’S EMPIRE”
—BELLE AND SEBASTIAN
Of all the scary things I’ve done, walking into school the next day might be the scariest. I don’t know how I’ll act when I run into Levi. I’m not sure if I should smile at him or ignore him. My hands fumble with the combination lock when I attempt to open my locker. I’m on edge, the star of the horror movie that is my life. But the thought of facing Levi is ten times scarier than encountering Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger.
I grab my books as quickly as humanly possible, because my best bet in making it through today is to avoid public spaces such as hallways. When I close my locker door, Strand suddenly appears next to me. I let out an ear-piercing shriek.
“Hey, partner,” he says, unfazed. “Did I scare you?”
“What the freaking hell, Strand?” I hug my books against me protectively and scan the hall. No Levi in sight.
“Are we looking for him?” Strand follows my gaze around the hallway.
“He’s not high on my list of people I want to run into.”
“Understandable.”
“So he told you we broke up?” I ask.
“No. Annie did.”
“Of course . . . I suppose you feel sorry for me.”
Strand scoffs. “Why would I? It’s his loss, not yours.”
“Are you even allowed to be talking to me? Aren’t you supposed to be on his side?”
“Why?” he asks. “Because I’m a guy?”
“No, because you’re, like, his best friend.”
“Levi and I may be friends, but you and I have a sacred bond stronger than friendship . . . we’re quince partners.”
“I have news for you . . . the quince is over.”
“So what? We’re done, then?”
I’m not sure what Strand and I are now. Were we ever friends, or were we bandmates and quince partners? Or something else entirely? All I know is that there’s no longer any reason for him to come to my apartment and lie in my bed and sing with me.
“Things are complicated,” I say.
“What about the band?” he asks.
The question makes me want to scream, because first it was Levi, and now it’s Strand placing the band above my feelings.
“What about it?” I ask coldly.
“We’ll still play at the Battle, won’t we? I can try to talk to your parents, if you want.”
“Forgive me if the band isn’t my number-one concern at the moment.”
Strand looks taken aback. “I just meant . . .”
“I know what you meant. I’m sure you and Levi are very concerned about who you’ll find to replace me.”
“Will you stop being so dramatic? We’re not replacing you, Victoria. There’s no band without you.”
I think about having to sing next to Levi, like nothing ever happened between us, like we’ve never made out or held hands, and it makes me sick. Then I think about not having to perform at Battle of the Boroughs in front of all those people, and I feel that familiar sense of relief.
“Then I guess there’s no band,” I say to Strand.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I can’t do it, Strand. I can’t be in a band with him and pretend nothing ever happened. I can’t lie to my family anymore.”
“So don’t,” he urges. “Talk to them. Talk to Levi.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
I realize that maybe I wasn’t the only one saved by Debaser. Maybe it was saving Strand, too. Maybe it means more to him than he lets on. I can’t stick it out for him, though. It hurts too much.
“This isn’t about Levi or your family, and you know it,” he says.
I don’t answer. Partly because he’s right. It’s not all about them. It’s a lot about me.
“The Battle’s in two weeks,” he says. “You have time to change your mind.”
My stomach knots. “I can’t . . .”
Strand shakes his head at me, and for a second his disapproval hurts as much as any part of the breakup. “You’re braver than this.”
“I’m not,” I reply. “I told you. I’m a wuss.”
* * *
In class I make myself as invisible as possible. It’s easy and familiar. My life preband. I keep my head down and take detailed notes, shaking out my hand every few minutes. If I stop writing, I think of life without the band. So I don’t stop writing.
Annie keeps checking up on me throughout the day, and as much as I love and appreciate her, I don’t feel like being reminded of how sad I should feel.
“How are you doing?” she asks, knitting her eyebrows together in concern. She’s acting like I’ve been diagnosed with a fatal disease.
“Oh, you know,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’ll survive.”
“The key is to keep yourself busy. You should take up a new hobby or something.”
“I plan on watching hours of TV and eating a pint of ice cream for dinner tonight. Is that enough of a hobby?”
She ignores me. “Ooh, I know! How about crochet?”
“So I can cement my future old-maid status? No thank you.”
“Track’s starting up soon . . . why don’t you sign up? Then you’ll have two seasons to put on your college applications next year.”
“I can’t, Annie.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll be like none of this ever happened. I’d be the same Victoria I was at the beginning of the year.”
“That Victoria wasn’t so bad. She made rational decisions to help herself get into a good college.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. I won’t, though, because that Victoria was miserable. To go from lead singer back to that girl is all too depressing.
I avoid everyone the rest of the day. I layer a sweater under my coat and eat lunch outside, even though it’s still cold. I sit against a gnarled tree trunk on the opposite side of campus, far away from the cafeteria. The tree’s just large enough to shield me from the biting wind. I’m the only one outside today. It’s too cold for normal people, but today the outside perfectly matches my inside.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“YOUTH”
—DAUGHTER
Enough of this moping around,” Annie declares before math on Monday morning. “You’re eating lunch with us today.”
“I have plans,” I say.
“With whom?”
“My tree. I named him.”
“You named a tree,” she repeats incredulously.
“Yes. Roberto de la Fuerte, because he’s sturdy and always there for me.”
“See?” Annie latches onto my shoulders. “Look what this lack of human contact has done to you! You can’t avoid society forever, Vi. It’s a small school. You’re bound to run into Levi sooner or later.”
“I only have to avoid him for another year and a half until he graduates.”
“I haven’t even seen him in the cafeteria. I think he’s eating with the band students. Come on. It’s just me, Krina, and Strand.”
“Fine,” I say, because she has a point. I can’t live in fear forever. If I see Levi, I’ll nod and go about my day. Even if it feels like I’m dying inside.
Annie claps her hands in delight.
“You’re in a good mood,” I note.
“Sorry.” She lowers her hands. “Am I too cheerful? I shouldn’t be cheerful when you’re so sad.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad my misery isn’t rubbing off on you.”
Then she physically blushes. Her cheeks turn a perfect shade of peach. Annie does not blush. She makes lists and studies and applies herself. She does not blush.
“Oh my God,” I say, struck by something through my fog of depression. “You like someone!”
“Don’t be silly,” she says, the color in her cheeks deepening. Her second lie to me in the entire time I’ve known her, after the eraser theft of third grade. Annie isn’t good at lying to me.
I sit up and gawk at her. “You do!”
“I do not.” She opens her book up to a random page and pretends to be deeply invested.
I wait her out, knowing that she can’t keep the lie up for long. Sure enough, she shuts the book and blows a strand of hair out of her face.
“There might be someone I might be interested in,” she confesses.
“Oh my God, that’s great, Annie!” I don’t even need to force my enthusiasm. Annie hasn’t liked anyone since Danny Palermo in the fourth grade. She’s always claimed that she isn’t interested in dating until med school, where she will find an aspiring brain surgeon to marry.
“I didn’t tell you, because . . . well, you know. Besides, I doubt anything will happen.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I promise. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thanks, Vi.”
“So . . . who is it?”
Annie shakes her head. “I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Oh, come on,” I beg. “Let me live vicariously through you since my love life has turned to ashes.”
“You’ve only been single a week!”
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine alone. I’ve accepted my fate.”
Mr. Davis clears his throat to start class, and I lean forward to whisper to Annie, “Do you want to go to Lalo after school today? I could use some cheesecake. And we can discuss your mystery man.”
“I can’t,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “Homework.”
Lie number three. I can tell by the way she stares straight down at her shoulder without looking at me. But this time she doesn’t admit the truth.
* * *
Thankfully, Levi is absent from the cafeteria during lunchtime. That doesn’t stop me from looking for him. My body stiffens each time the cafeteria door swings open.
“You’re making me nervous,” Strand says.
“I think it’s too soon for me to be here,” I reply. My tray of pizza sits in front of me, untouched.
“You’re making it harder on yourself,” says Krina. “Why should you be the one avoiding places?”
&n
bsp; “Because I’m the one who was dumped. Where has he been eating, anyway?”
I’m filled with curiosity as to how Levi’s been filling his time for the past week. Krina and Strand are his good friends too, but they haven’t seen or spoken to him. It feels like I’ve been granted full custody after a divorce.
“Maybe he’s avoiding you,” Annie offers. “He could have found his own lady tree.”
“Did you guys know he hasn’t tried to contact me since we broke up?” I ask. “Not once.”
“It’s better that way,” Annie says. “A clean break.”
“I don’t understand it, though. I don’t understand how you can date someone, see them every day, meet their parents, and then drop them like they never meant anything to you.”
“Some people need the distance,” Krina says.
“Levi doesn’t. I’m convinced he was born without the capacity to feel.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”
“No, actually.”
“There are two people at fault in a breakup, Victoria,” Krina says. “No matter who does the dumping.”
“That’s not true.” I refuse to believe that I deserve any blame in this situation. Levi is the one who pulled away.
“Drop it, Krina,” says Strand.
“It’s true,” she maintains. “I’m not saying one person can’t be more at fault than the other. But, Victoria, you need to ask yourself what role you played in things.”
“I didn’t!” How dare she accuse me of playing a role in the breakup? I’m the victim here. I was the loving, understanding girlfriend who put in the effort. I ball up my paper napkin and throw it onto my plate. Appetite officially lost. I want to be alone again, outside in the quiet.
“I’m not saying Levi didn’t act like an ass,” Krina says, “because he did. I’m just saying it’s not that simple.”
“I tried so hard to make things work with him,” I say. “How can you say that it’s partly my fault we broke up?”
Krina looks up at me with narrowed eyes. “Because it is. You both played a part. Even if you won’t admit it.”
* * *
As I’m packing up to go home, I think about what Krina said. Despite my indignation, I wonder if she’s right. I wonder if I’m to blame for the breakup too. I was never fully myself with Levi, always worried about messing things up. Maybe that did us in. Maybe it was how fast I jumped in before asking myself if he was the right guy for me. Or . . . and this is what really scares me . . . maybe I’m just a massive screw-up. I shun the things that normal people would want, and, in the end, I lose everything.
The Victoria in My Head Page 24