The Snowball Effect

by Holly Nicole Hoxter

  I didn’t want to go to group and talk to a bunch of crazy people. What if my mom led the group?

  I didn’t want to leave my room, period, but after a while I got hungry. I ate the watermelon, rind and all.

  And then the girl came back to my room on her way to group. She asked if I’d read her feelings. I didn’t know how to tell her that I’d eaten them. So I ran.

  In the light of day that all sounded really silly, but I’d felt a little nauseous and on edge ever since I’d woken up. To distract myself, I started cleaning. I wiped down and straightened up the whole house until the only thing left to do was the laundry. And I wasn’t doing the laundry. Absolutely not. I’d done one load of laundry since my graduation—at Riley’s house. Since then I’d just let the clothes pile up on my floor. I hadn’t run out of clean clothes because I’d started wearing some of the things that Mom had bought for me that I’d never thought I would wear.

  I drove to Collin’s school that afternoon wearing a frilly turquoise skirt and a white blouse with poufy sleeves. Even though I’d rather be in jeans, the nicer clothes normally made me feel at least a little pretty—but I hadn’t washed my hair in three days, and my legs hadn’t been shaved in a while, so I mostly felt gross. I looked like I’d done a half-assed job of impersonating someone else.

  As I got closer to Collin’s school, I started wondering about the note the teacher would send home. What would be wrong with Collin today? It wasn’t like he always had the same problem—if that was the case, maybe we could try to fix it. Oh no, not Collin—he has a different problem every day. Or maybe there were so many things every day that the teacher just picked one at random every afternoon, because if she wrote down everything that he needed to do differently, she’d never get it all down on paper.

  God, Collin, why can’t you just be normal?

  And then I started to shake. I couldn’t tell at first because the car itself always shook so badly that my hands and arms vibrated just from holding the steering wheel. But then I felt it throughout my whole body. My stomach tightened. And then I knew I was on the verge.

  One time when I was seven or eight, Mom and I came home and she went to the refrigerator, stared inside for a few seconds, and then slumped to the floor and burst into tears.

  I went up next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Mommy?” I asked, because that’s the sort of thing I would have done back then.

  “Oh, Lainey, I’m on the verge,” she said, and wiped her eyes. “I just wanted a turkey sandwich. Just a goddamned turkey sandwich. Is that so much to ask for?”

  “Daddy Steve ate the turkey for lunch yesterday,” I whispered, like I was tattling. “We have ham. I can make you a ham sandwich.”

  Mom leaned her head against the open refrigerator door, dangerously close to getting mustard in her hair. Daddy Steve was a slob and never bothered to shut the lid on anything. “I just wanted the turkey. I had my heart set on it. But it’s all right. I’ve been on the verge all day. I’ll be all right.”

  “What’s ‘on the verge’ mean?” I asked.

  She held my hand. “It means Mommy thinks she’s almost ready to completely lose it.” she explained. And then she stood up and stared into the refrigerator for a few more minutes before she wiped her eyes and took out the ham and made herself a sandwich.

  When I was a kid, I always wondered what big terrible thing had happened to upset Mom. But as I got older, I realized it’s not one thing that threatens to put you over the edge. It’s the culmination of all the little things. Working a sucky part-time job at Corben Mall. Not being able to help your sister with the bills. Having a whack job for a brother. Having a dead whack job for a mother. Wearing frilly, poufy clothes because you can’t go down to the basement and do laundry. Breaking up with your perfect boyfriend and having no idea if that was the right thing to do.

  You get enough of that adding up and it puts you on the verge of completely losing it.

  I wanted to turn the car around and drive away. First I’d sell Mom’s notebooks to Deborah. Then I’d find a cheap little apartment somewhere, anywhere, far away. I could forget about responsibility and whack jobs and love and Slurpees and everything else. At least for a little while.

  Of course I didn’t turn around. I pulled into the elementary school’s parking lot and waited for the dismissal bell and braced myself for the note.

  Honestly, I doubt the Grand Am would’ve even made it past the state line.

  11

  FORTUITY AND ADVENTURE

  Sometimes the cool thing about working at the mall is that your friends always know where to find you. But most of the time, the sucky thing about working at the mall is that your friends always know where to find you.

  Riley showed up on Monday. Rodney shook his finger at me. “Rutabaga,” he said before he walked back to his own kiosk.

  “Inside joke?” Riley asked.

  “We were playing the alphabet game.”

  He nodded. “Don’t know what that is, but okay.”

  “So,” I said. Riley’d gotten a haircut. It hadn’t been that long since the last time I’d seen him, but the new cut made it feel like more time had passed. I wondered if I looked exactly the same to him. No, my hair probably looked dirtier.

  Riley looked down at his feet. “Listen, I understand that we broke up, or we’re taking a break or whatever, and that we need some time to let things cool off, but my company picnic is this Saturday, and I was really hoping that you still want to go. It would mean a lot to me if you could just pretend to like me for about an hour. It’d be really cool if you could do that for me.”

  What would it really matter if I went to one more picnic with him?

  “I guess,” I said. “I’ll go.”

  He smiled. “Really? Great. I’ll pick you up around noon.”

  He hesitated for a second and then kissed me on the cheek. I didn’t smile back at him; I looked at my perfume case. He hesitated for a moment and then walked away.

  I didn’t want to watch him walk away, because I didn’t want him to see me watching if he turned back around, but I couldn’t help it. The girl at the handbag kiosk waved a flyer at him, but he kept walking. Then he stopped and smiled. I wondered if he remembered her from school.

  I imagined the conversation they were having.

  Hello, sir! We’re having a super-duper sale today! Perhaps you’d like to purchase a handbag for your special lady friend?

  Riley handed the flyer back to her and shook his head.

  Oh, no thank you. I no longer have a special lady friend. She actually turned out to be a real bitch.

  I slept in on Friday and didn’t get up until I thought Vallery and Collin had already left. But when I stumbled down the stairs in my pajamas, I found Vallery and two strange guys sitting in the living room. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared.

  The strangers wore khaki shorts and polo shirts. Vallery sat in a chair across from them, looking at some kind of brochure on the coffee table.

  And then I took a good look at the guy in the blue polo shirt. He’d trimmed the beard a little, but it was him. The Slurpee Guy. In my living room.

  “Uh,” I said, by way of greeting.

  That certainly wasn’t what I wanted to say. I wanted to yell, “Oh my God, it’s you!” I imagined I’d have a similar reaction if I woke up one morning to find the actress who played Lainey St. James sitting on my couch. She’d be familiar to me, but she’d have no idea who I was, so I couldn’t scream and let on that she meant anything to me. I knew he wouldn’t remember. He was probably just a nice guy who bought Slurpees for all the girls who forgot their ATM code.

  The Slurpee Guy stood up and held out his hand. I walked over and shook it. The other guy stood up, and we shook hands too.

  “I’m Eric Blankenship,” Slurpee Guy said. “And this is my partner, Frank Cooper. We’re here today to offer you the finest selection of bestselling national magazines at rock-bottom prices.” />
  Of course he didn’t remember me. I tried not to feel slighted. I knew that our past relations existed only in my head. He’d bought me a Slurpee. That was it.

  But then as he sat back down on the couch, he winked.

  Well. How about that.

  I smiled and kneeled beside the coffee table and looked down at the brochure.

  “These are really good prices,” Vallery said.

  “Rock bottom,” I agreed. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  She shrugged. “I’m tired. Collin was making me nuts this morning, so I called and told them I had to take him to the doctor. They completely understood. This kid thing is really convenient sometimes.”

  “That’s very responsible, Val. You haven’t even been there two weeks.”

  “Oh, shut up. I’m not taking off the whole day. Anyway, I’m going to get Cosmo and Glamour. Or maybe Redbook. Yeah, Cosmo and Redbook.”

  “We’re actually running a special today,” Eric said. “When you buy three, you get one free.”

  “Sweet,” Vallery said. “Lainey, you can pick one.”

  I felt Eric’s sneaker rub against the back of my foot. I glanced up at him, but he looked down at his paperwork. I thought it had been an accident. But then he did it again. I wondered what magazines he subscribed to.

  “How about Newsweek?” I suggested.

  “Newsweek? You’re kidding me.”

  “What? It’s informative. It’ll balance out the trash you’re getting.”

  She shook her head. “What kind of eighteen-year-old girl are you?”

  “You said I could pick one.”

  “Fine, but that’s all you get. I’ll take Cosmo, Redbook, and Glamour, and you can get your Newsweek for free.”

  “That’s generous of you.”

  “It really is.”

  Eric handed us the order forms and two pens.

  “Do you really need all this information?” I asked Eric. “Phone number and email address and everything?”

  “It’s not necessary to process your order,” he said. “But it’s certainly encouraged.”

  “All right,” I said. And I winked at him.

  Eric and Frank left. Vallery left for work. I lay on my bed and looked at the phone. It didn’t ring. I got in the shower. As I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, I heard the phone ringing.

  I grabbed a towel and ran to my room.

  “Hello?”

  “So, Miss Lainey Mae Pike, why do you keep popping up in my life?” Eric asked.

  “Oh no, you have it backward,” I said. I tried to wrap the towel around my wet hair. “You keep popping up in mine.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. First you started chatting me up at the ATM, then you kicked yourself for not getting my number, so you started knocking door-to-door, pretending that you’re selling magazines.”

  “Just so I could find you?

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The magazines are a ruse?”

  “Exactly. I didn’t leave my glass slipper behind, so you improvised.”

  “What about my partner, Frank?”

  “He’s a friend you enlisted to lend credibility to your ruse.”

  “You have me all figured out, huh?”

  “I do.”

  I could feel my heart beating. I wondered how long it’d been since I’d felt like this. Actually excited about something. Six months? Longer?

  “Just for the record, you were hinting that I should call you, right?”

  I laughed.

  “I’m serious! I have a bad habit of taking things the wrong way. Usually with disastrous results. Now I tend to be a little too cautious sometimes.”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t take it the wrong way.”

  “How freaky is it that we ran into each other again?”

  “Well, Corben’s not that big.”

  He sighed. “I pegged you for having a greater love of fortuity and adventure. I must admit I’m a little disappointed.”

  “Okay, you want fortuity? I’ve got something for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I saw you again. Before today but after the day at 7-Eleven.”

  “Oh yeah? Where?”

  “I shouldn’t even tell you this. It’s embarrassing. But anyway, it was trash night. You came out at about two in the morning in your robe and slippers, and there were two guys digging through your neighbor’s trash.”

  Eric laughed. “Yeah, I remember that. Which guy were you?”

  “I was sitting in the van.”

  “And you didn’t get out and say hi?”

  “I thought it would have been kind of awkward to hop out of the van and strike up a conversation, under the circumstances.”

  “Well, we could have avoided the entire magazine ruse. Besides, I don’t judge. If you want to pick through trash, go for it.”

  “I don’t pick through trash. But my friends are getting their own apartment.”

  “You said that with such confidence that I almost believed it made sense.”

  “They need furniture. You should see some of the stuff they picked up. People throw away anything.”

  “We’re a wasteful society. I’m glad there are people in the world like your friends who believe in recycling and reusing. Anyway, you know where I live?”

  “Kind of. I remember the neighborhood.”

  “Then why don’t you come on over?”

  Eric lived in the basement apartment in his dad and stepmom’s house. I’d been right about the beard being deceiving—he was only twenty-one. The apartment was basically one room—the kitchen area to the left, a futon and TV straight ahead, and the tiny little bathroom to the right. There were stacks of DVDs and CDs everywhere, but I didn’t recognize most of the titles.

  “Nice digs,” I said.

  “Don’t tease.” He’d changed out of the polo shirt into a brown tank top. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

  “I wasn’t joking. I’d love to have my own place. Even if it is this small.”

  He grinned and poked my arm. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”

  “Those words never came out of my mouth.”

  “You’re right.” He took my hand and led me over to the couch. “So you live with your family?”

  “I live with my sister. And we have a brother too.”

  “Older, younger?” Eric clicked on the television but muted the volume.

  “He’s five. Almost six.”

  Eric whistled. “Wow. Way younger.”

  “Yeah, we take care of him. And trust me, he’s a handful.”

  “So your parents…?”

  I hesitated, but not too long, before I smiled and told him my parents were dead. Not exactly true, but close enough. And if I acted all cavalier about it, he’d think it’d happened a while ago, that I didn’t need a pity party.

  “You’re like Party of Three now.”

  I nodded. “Exactly.” I decided I should keep talking before he asked any more questions. “You didn’t go to high school around here, did you?” He would have been a senior when I was a freshman, and I didn’t recognize his face.

  “Nope. I lived with my mom in Indiana and went to high school up there.”

  “And you sell magazines.”

  “For now, for the summer. During the winter I’m a ski instructor up in PA. Or I will be. I still have to go up there and apply.”

  “Ah, you’re multitalented.”

  “I am. What about you? What do you do, besides tend to your young sibling?”

  “I sell perfume at the mall.” I laughed. My job suddenly sounded ridiculous.

  “That’s cool,” Eric said. “That must be awesome for people-watching.” He grinned. I got the impression that he did think it was cool. Actually, I got the impression that no matter what I did, Eric would have found some way to spin it so that it seemed cool.

  “Question,” I said.

  “Shoot.”

  “You like me.”r />
  “That’s not a question. And it’s also awfully forward.”

  I hit his arm, but not too hard. “No, I’m serious. You called. And then you invited me over. You must like me, right?”

  He turned to me and grinned. “Okay, I’ll show my cards first. Yes, I suppose you could say that I like you. I find you attractive. I find your personality intriguing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Did you like me the first time we met, at the 7-Eleven?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. You were cute, funny, all frazzled with the ATM.”

  “And you bought me a Slurpee. So I figured you liked me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you didn’t get my number or anything.”

  “I know.”

  “Why not, if you liked me? Didn’t you care that we might not ever see each other again? Oh, wait a minute…do you have a girlfriend?” I looked around the apartment, like maybe I’d spot a bra or some tampons, some evidence of a girlfriend.

  He touched my knee. “Chill,” he said. “No girlfriend. And you?”

  I shook my head. “No girlfriend. And no boyfriend anymore, either.”

  “Ah, that’s what I was waiting for. You to dump the boyfriend.”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “Well, I was waiting for a sign.”

  “A sign.”

  “Yeah, a sign that I should ask for your number. You didn’t give me anything, so I didn’t ask. Of course, I kicked myself afterward. But I knew if it was meant to be, I’d find you again. And I did.”

  “How’d you find me?”

  Eric smiled. “I had a dream about you last night.”

  My eyes felt like they bugged out of my head. I hoped Eric didn’t notice. “Really?”

  “Totally. I dreamed that you were walking down your street. I could see the corner, the street signs. I knew I’d find you there in one of those houses, so Frank and I grabbed our brochures and order forms, and we set out to sell some magazines.”

  I wondered if I should tell him about my dream, but then I noticed the smirk, and a wicked look in his eye. “Are you messing with me?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d believe that.”

  I smacked his arm. Harder this time.