Levi’s hands went directly to the back of his head. “So crazy.” His voice sounded a little distant, like he couldn’t believe it himself.
The stylist then handed me the hair. I studied it, thinking about how long he’d been growing it out. About how Levi had this whole other life before I met him. It hit me then about what it must’ve been like to really start over.
In some ways, I felt like I’d had to start over after the accident. But I still woke up in the same bed, went to the same school, had the same friends. There was something reassuring about waking up and knowing you were home. Hopefully, Levi would get to the point where he would feel like this was home to him.
I watched transfixed as more of Levi’s hair came cascading down around his chair. The stylist didn’t talk much, concentrating on the angles of his hair. When she was done cutting and styling, she turned Levi’s chair around and he faced me. I hardly recognized him. His hair was now only about an inch long at the top and appeared darker, more dirty blond, probably since his “newer” hair hadn’t seen much sun.
“What do you think?” Levi asked, eyes wide.
“I like it.” I really did, even if it was the same haircut most of the guys in school had.
“Really?” He was staring at himself in the mirror. “You really like it?”
“Yes.” I came over and couldn’t help but run my fingers through it. “It’s so short, but it looks nice on you.”
Levi trembled at my touch, probably not used to having anything or anyone be so close to his neck.
He jumped out of the chair. “Let’s go do something.”
“Um, I thought we were doing something. We’re at the mall.”
He groaned. “You know that’s not what I meant. Let’s go play mini golf or go to the park or do something.”
I glanced at my watch. “I can’t. I have to get everything ready for tonight.”
His shoulders sank down in defeat. “Okay. But Mom’s really insisting on bringing something. And she only gets annoyed at me when I say you don’t need anything.”
“I don’t want her to bring anything. This is my supper for you guys, a thank-you to your family for everything and a celebration for us that school’s starting next week.”
He shook his head. “You’re the only person who gets excited that school’s starting. Haven’t we had an awesome summer?”
It had been a great summer. But I still craved the discipline the school year gave me.
I still needed the distractions.
I knew Dad was only trying to help, but I had everything planned down to the minute. I’d taken some cooking classes at the Y over the summer and had been getting better at it. I was making the salad while the lasagna was baking in the oven.
“You sure you don’t need anything?” he asked for the seventh time.
“Seriously, Dad, I’ve got it. Please go do something, anything. Go watch TV with Adam.”
He chuckled. “You sound exactly like your mother.” It was the first time he’d mentioned Mom without getting sad. Instead, he was laughing. Of course, he was laughing at me, but I didn’t have time to get upset about it. I had garlic bread to toast.
Luckily, the doorbell saved me, and Dad went to let Levi and his parents in. I heard a scattering of their greetings.
“Smells amazing!” Mrs. Rodgers greeted me in the kitchen. “I don’t want to be in your way at all; I only wanted you to know that it all smells delicious.”
Dad followed her with a bottle of wine in his hand, most likely a gift from Levi’s parents. Then I saw Levi and almost didn’t recognize him with his new haircut. It took me a second to realize he had flowers in his hand. His dad came behind him and gestured.
“Oh, yeah,” Levi said, taking the cue. “Um, for the chef.” He handed me the flowers, his cheeks ruddy from embarrassment.
“Thanks!” I hastily grabbed them.
Levi’s dad winked at Mrs. Rodgers before giving me a hug. I was especially honored that Dr. Rodgers could make it. He worked such long hours, he usually didn’t make it home in time for supper at his own house.
I shooed them all out of the kitchen so I could finish the meal. I couldn’t help but smile when their voices and laughter drifted into the kitchen. It was nice to have joyful noise fill the house again. Every once in a while, I’d hear Adam groan and knew that Levi was trash-talking about the upcoming football season. You’d think he’d learn to keep his affinity for the Bears on the down low in Packers country.
The timer on the oven dinged just as I put the salad on the dining room table. We hadn’t eaten there since my tenth birthday. There hadn’t been much reason to celebrate or break out the good china in a while.
I looked over the table one last time before calling them in, making sure everything was in place. I felt my chest swell with pride as everybody came in and made a fuss.
Once everybody dug in, quiet fell over the table, except for the occasional compliment on the salad. I then served the lasagna with garlic bread before bringing out the chocolate cake I’d made for dessert.
“Cake, too!” Mrs. Rodgers patted her slim waist. “I’m glad I signed up for back-to-back spin class tomorrow morning!”
“Oh,” I said, “the cake’s only from a box. I haven’t started taking any baking courses yet.”
Her eyes got wide. “Honey, this is all amazing. I now feel like I need to up my game next time you come over for dinner.”
I wanted to get up and hug her. Sitting around the table with everybody together made me realize how much I missed moments like that. I had forgotten what it was like to enjoy a meal together as a family. We’d gotten into the habit of making sandwiches or ordering in. We needed to have the TV on to fill in the silence. Because sometimes silence speaks much louder than words possibly could.
It was then that I knew this would be the first of many family meals we’d have together. I wanted to start a tradition with this new, growing family. Sure, the Rodgerses and I weren’t related, but family doesn’t have to be blood relations only. I think family is more a state of mind.
“You know, that reminds me.” Dad put his finger in the air. “I’ve been meaning to have a conversation about the school year. I’m fine with Macallan being dropped off here on Wednesday, or any day really. She’s been babysitting around the neighborhood and spending a lot of time here by herself during the summer, so she doesn’t have to come over to your house.”
Both Levi and I exchanged a look. I was pretty sure it was the same look, or at least I hoped it was. I liked going to his house and hanging out with him and his mom. I didn’t like coming home to a house that was empty of people, yet full of memories.
Dad continued. “I think I’ve been a little overprotective. Our little girl is almost in high school. I can’t believe it.” Dad’s eye drifted to a spot on the wall right behind me. I didn’t need to turn around. I knew what was there: a photo of my parents’ first dance on their wedding day. Dad had said something funny to my mom, because they were both laughing.
“But we love having Macallan over,” Mrs. Rodgers said. I immediately felt better. “Right, Levi?”
I found myself holding my breath. I knew Levi wanted to make some more guy friends, but I hoped that wouldn’t mean we couldn’t still hang out. We talked about things that I couldn’t with my girl friends. I liked not always obsessing over boys or what we were wearing the next day. Levi and I talked about real things. And he made me laugh more than anybody had been able to do in years.
Levi looked straight at my dad. “It wouldn’t be the same without her, Mr. Dietz.”
I was so relieved to hear his response that my eyes began to burn. I got up and started clearing the table. Levi did the same. Once we set the plates down on the counter in the kitchen, he gave me that crooked smile of his.
“Dude, that was close. Blimey if I’d know what to do without you.”
I felt the exact same way.
When we got our schedules for eighth grade, we discovere
d that the unthinkable had happened.
Emily, Levi, Danielle, and I had been split up for lunch. The only bright spot was that we’d been divided down the middle, so no one was left alone. Emily and Levi had first lunch, while Danielle and I were relegated to second lunch.
Emily was the most concerned about the lunch disaster, which surprised me. She’d always been the type of person who can walk into any room and start a conversation with a stranger. But she was uncharacteristically worried about eighth grade. All summer she kept saying that this would have to be our best year since none of us knew what would happen next year when we got to high school. A lot of this fear, I knew, was because Emily’s older sister had gone, to quote Emily, from “it girl to so last season” once she got to South Lake High School.
I found myself extremely anxious on Levi’s behalf while I was in history class. Was Emily sitting with him? Would she have abandoned him to sit with some of her cheerleading friends or Troy, her current crush?
My worries faded once I got to the hallway and saw Emily and Levi walking together, laughing about something.
“Hey!” Emily greeted me. “Stay away from the sandwiches at lunch — they’re super soggy.”
Emily winked at Levi. I felt a slight pang of jealousy rise up inside me. Which I instantly knew was silly. I wanted Levi and Emily to be friends.
Emily offered to walk me to my locker after we bid Levi good-bye. At least I’d see him later in English.
She linked her arm with mine. “You didn’t tell me Levi got a haircut. He’s so cute!”
“Oh” was the only response I could think of.
“So …” She let the word hang in the air. I knew what was coming.
I decided to cut her off at the pass. “What’s going on with Troy?” I asked.
Emily had a new crush at the start of every school year. It always went like this: Emily declared a crush, she let her crush be known, the guy asked her out, they dated, and then she moved on to her next crush. She’d had eight legitimate boyfriends before the start of eighth grade. I always teased her that she’d run out of boys by the time we hit senior prom, but she promised she’d move on to college guys by then. I had no doubt this would be true.
“Ugh, Troy. I don’t know.” She gave me a look that made it clear she did know. “Levi’s still this total mystery. Will you talk to him for me?”
I no longer had an appetite for lunch. Did I really want my best friend dating my — well, Levi had become one of my best friends, too. I had flashes in my head of having to be their go-between and their referee.
But then I realized that having my two best friends date could be a good thing. I sometimes felt I had to choose between hanging out with one or the other. Now we could all hang out in a group.
“Sure,” I offered.
After all, what was the worst that could happen?
I don’t think I give you enough credit for your positive attitude.
Yes, I’m Queen Optimist.
Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.
I was being sarcastic.
Really?
I’d rather be cautious than assume that everything will just work out.
It’s called being laid back.
Or unrealistic. But whatever works for you.
Exactly. Whatever works.
Had I known that getting a haircut was going to make me a chick magnet, I would’ve shaved my head the second we arrived in Wisconsin.
I could tell that Emily was acting differently at lunch our first day back. But I assumed it was because Macallan wasn’t around. Then she started doing all that stuff girls do to let you know they’re interested in you. She threw her head back after I said something that wasn’t that funny. Then she kept touching my arm and gazing into my eyes. At first, I thought that maybe she’d lost her mind over summer break. Then it dawned on me: Emily was flirting.
It wasn’t that a girl had never flirted with me before. I’d had a few girlfriends back home. But ever since I’d arrived in Cheese Country, I hadn’t had any girls pay any attention to me in that way.
I wasn’t sure if I could tell Macallan about Emily. I mean, I knew Macallan and I were just friends, but people always talked about us like we were a couple. And when they did, Macallan usually scrunched her nose or did something that made it clear that the mere thought made her stomach turn. Which was a little harsh, but I knew where she was coming from.
Then when Macallan told me that Emily was interested in me and even helped me ask Emily on a date, it sorta cemented it. Macallan and I would never be like that. We were just friends. That’s how she saw me. And maybe we were better off being only friends.
Which was cool. Especially since she was my best friend here.
I decided to surprise her with a special treat after school. I told Mom not to pick us up so it would be only the two of us.
“Where are we going?” she asked when I took a left turn instead of a right.
“It’s a surprise.” I grabbed her elbow and led her down the street.
“Okay.” She sounded like she didn’t trust me. “Have you decided what you guys are going to do on Friday?”
“Who wants to know?” I found myself asking that a lot that week. Anytime Macallan inquired about my upcoming date, I wasn’t sure if she was curious or if she was getting intel for Emily.
“I am. I wanted to see if you needed any advice on what to do.”
“Oh.” I felt stupid for sounding paranoid. “I figured we’d get something to eat and see a movie. Is that too boring?”
“Sounds good to me. There aren’t a lot of options around here.”
“Yeah, same as back home.”
Macallan’s shoulders tensed. I was about to ask her if I’d done something wrong, but we were approaching our destination.
“Look!” I pointed up at the Culver’s marquee.
Her eyes got wide. “Yes! You know Turtle’s my favorite.”
“Yes, I do. When we drove by this morning and I saw that it was the custard flavor of the day, I knew we had to come here. My treat.”
Macallan smiled as we entered the restaurant and got in line. “Well, if it’s your treat, I’m getting four scoops.”
“As I expected. I think I may get a double ButterBurger, too. Gotta get more weight on.” I patted my stomach. I wanted to be able to get onto a few teams next year in high school, but I was still the skinniest guy in our class. “I figured between you becoming a culinary master and all the deep-fried food in this town, I would’ve gained some weight by now.”
“What a hardship.” She shook her head. “Probably not the best idea to bring up in front of Emily the plight that is your inability to gain weight. She’s tiny, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t self-conscious about her weight.”
“That’s so ridiculous. I’ve never gotten why girls have, like, the most messed-up idea of what they look like. Emily’s body is, um …” This was the part where having your best friend be a girl got tricky. I couldn’t really say “sick” like I would to my friends back home. “She’s not fat. Nowhere near it. Neither are you. You’re both, um, like, totally, ah … fine.”
Macallan folded her arms over her chest. I decided it would be best to keep my mouth shut. I knew I made her uncomfortable. Macallan had recently started growing in, um, specific places. I couldn’t help but notice that her shirts were fitting differently.
I was only a guy, and therefore human.
Very, very human.
I shook my head to try to get the image of Macallan in her purple V-neck shirt out of my head. Thankfully, it was our turn to order. Once we got our custards, we grabbed a table.
“So, any other topics of conversation I should avoid on Friday?” I asked while Macallan happily dived into her vanilla custard with caramel, chocolate, and pecans.
She nodded. “It’s best to not talk about next year — she’s really paranoid about going to high school.”
As she explained about Emily’s sister and everythin
g, I made mental notes. There seemed to be a lot of things that I would have to be cautious about on Friday. It wasn’t like with Macallan, where we could pretty much talk about anything.
Well, except current growth spurts.
“Yeah, I know, she —”
I stopped myself as Macallan’s gaze settled on something over in the corner. I looked to see that some older kids were picking on an employee who was clearing off a few tables in the back room. They were pointing and laughing at him. I couldn’t tell why until he turned around and I saw he must’ve had Down syndrome or something.
“Are those guys —”
She cut me off. “It’s ridiculous. He shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Her cheeks became extremely flush.
“Should I go look for a manager?” I offered.
But Macallan had a different idea. She got up and headed over to the corner. I hesitated for a second but realized that I should be there in case she needed some help.
“Is there a problem?” she said to these three guys who were probably sixteen or seventeen.
“Oh, is that your girlfriend?” one of them asked.
I was used to the question being directed at me, but instead it was aimed at the guy who was trying to wipe down the table next to them.
“Oops.” Another guy dumped his soda on the floor. “Better go clean that up, retard.”
“EXCUSE ME?” Macallan’s voice boomed through the seating area. Even some people in line started turning around to see what was going on.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” The guy started laughing.
Macallan stood in front of the table. “Well, you are now.”
The guys were snickering and saying some things I couldn’t make out. Then Macallan slammed her fists on their table. The guy who appeared to be the ringleader jumped a little.
“What’s your problem?” Macallan asked, her entire body shaking. “All he’s doing is working, minding his own business, cleaning up after slobs like you. He’s making a contribution to society, which is a lot more than I can say about you. So who’s the real waste of space in this scenario?”
Better Off Friends Page 3