by Lisa Aldin
“I gotta go,” he whispers, looking away. “Goodnight, Toni Valentine.”
“Um, goodnight.” I watch as he jogs across the lawn and enters his home. Minutes later, his bedroom light turns on. I stand in place for several minutes, perplexed, examining the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Teddy Bear in my hands. I turn and head back inside, confused and excited and terrified.
Tom Brady waits on the porch, flicking his tail back and forth. He glares. When I open the front door, he trots inside, purring, like his job is done.
thirty
THROUGH MY WINDSHIELD, I watch Emma jump up and down at the front entrance of Winston Academy, holding a bundle of pink balloons. A small crowd gathers around her. She spots me and waves. A balloon breaks free and disappears into the gray sky, but this doesn’t damper Emma’s spirits in the slightest.
I consider going around to the back entrance, but that will make things worse for me later. Emma will insist on celebrating a day I would rather skip over this year. I might as well face it. I zip up the new Purdue fleece Brian and Mom gave me this morning and head into the chilly March air.
“Happy birthday!” Emma squeals as I approach. A few girls wish me a happy birthday before heading inside. Lemon stays behind, pressing her hands into the pockets of her plaid coat, while Emma hands me the bundle of pink balloons.
“Thanks.” I accept them, as if I have a choice. I eye them. “Will these fit in my locker?”
“You’re supposed to carry them around with you all day,” Lemon says. “For the complete humiliation effect. It’s one of the many reasons I love my summertime birthday.”
I struggle to get the balloons through the doorway. They float above the sea of bodies as the three of us conquer the busy hallways. Various girls wish me happy birthday as I hurry along, my cheeks burning from the attention. When I get to my locker, I attempt to shove the balloons inside. No such luck.
“Don’t bother.” Lemon smirks. “Emma has a back-up set in her car anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at this. Of course she does. Emma beams.
“I shall see you ladies at lunch,” Lemon says, waving. “I am off to send romantic messages to my lovely significant other!”
After she leaves, Emma gives me a look. “So. What’s the deal?”
I groan and press my head against my locker. “I still don’t know what’s happening!”
“Make another move!” Emma says, patting my back.
“I made the last one!” I whisper-shout.
Two weeks since the last kiss. Two weeks. Micah and I are speaking again, but that’s it. We talk about Champ. We talk about horror movies. We don’t talk about the kiss at the party. We don’t talk about us.
“Well, we’re going out for your birthday tonight.” Emma flicks my shoulder. “We’ll discuss details at lunch.”
“I’ve got a ton of homework—”
“Nope! No protesting, Toni Valentine!” As she skips away down the hall, I shake my head and smile to myself. Thank God for her. A balloon hits me in the face as I close my locker. I sigh and drag them down the hall.
But Emma doesn’t show up at lunch. When the bell rings, I start to worry. I navigate the halls, searching for her. Maybe she went home sick. But if she did, she would’ve texted me. Wrote an email. A letter. Sent a carrier pigeon. Something. Emma doesn’t go silent.
“Toni!” Lemon waves. I wave back, moving through the crowd toward her. When I reach her, she lowers her voice. “You hear about Emma?”
I shake my head. “Is she okay?”
“She got called into Mrs. Kemper’s office,” Lemon says, fluffing her bob. “There was an anonymous note linking her to the business. Rumor is she got expelled.”
“What?”
“Expelled,” she repeats.
I feel sick. “That doesn’t make sense. What’d the note say?”
Lemon bites at her nails. “Don’t know. A lot of girls are freaking out because we don’t know who else was named. Emma’s the only one who’s been called in so far.”
The bell rings. Lemon hurries off, throwing me another worried look. I stand there a few minutes, alone in the empty hallway, shaking, my stomach twisted into a sick knot. I rush to the bathroom and splash water on my face.
This can’t be happening. Not to Emma.
The rest of the day drags. I stare at clocks. I stare at my phone. I wait for my name to be called next. I text Emma about a million times, but she doesn’t reply. She must hate me. I got her into this. I ruined Harvard for her. Did Shauna tell Mrs. Kemper that the business belonged to Emma? Or did Mrs.
Kemper find out about Emma’s involvement some other way?
Emma was the liaison. She booked the clients. She was more high-profile than I was. But I can’t let her take the fall for this.
After the last bell, I race to Mrs. Kemper’s office and raise my hand to knock. I pause. My armpits sweat. My heart pounds. My throat goes dry. This is it. The end. No more lies.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Mrs. Kemper opens the door immediately. “Tonya,” she begins.
Before she says another word, I say, “Rent-a-Gent was my idea, Mrs. Kemper. My business. I did it. Alone.”
Mrs. Kemper picks at a loose hair from her blazer as she glares at me from behind her desk. The curly strand seems to hit the floor with a sickening thud. I wipe my sweaty palms onto my plaid skirt. The stack of gentleman profiles sit in front of Mrs. Kemper on the desk.
“You’re quite the entrepreneur,” she says.
“Was,” I correct. “We shut down. I will never do anything like this again. I promise.”
Mrs. Kemper sighs. Shifts her weight. “This is serious, Tonya. Winston frowns upon this type of behavior. This business of yours, whether still in operation or not, is highly inappropriate.”
It feels like Micah should be in the room, holding my hand, comforting me. I’m about to be expelled, and all I can think about is my best friend who is really more than my best friend but I’m not sure because we keep ignoring this thing going on between us. Despite the fear bubbling in my stomach, I do what I need to do. I’m too tired to fight anymore.
I confess everything. I start at the beginning, but I leave out any real names. If anyone needs to go down for this, it’s me alone. I tell Mrs. Kemper about Micah and the Halloween party and about false doors. I explain the desperation so many of us carry for things to appear different than what they actually are. I emphasize that the service had nothing to do with sex or even friendship, but that it served as a blanket to hide behind.
“I’m sorry,” I continue. Tears run down my cheeks, and I wipe a glob of snot onto my sleeve. “It was wrong. I know that now. I wanted to help a friend. I didn’t want to lose him. I wish I could take it all back. I don’t understand people, Mrs. Kemper. I don’t understand them at all. I’m not Winston material, and I don’t deserve the future this place has given me. I deserve to be expelled.”
The chair squeaks as Mrs. Kemper leans back, studying me with her kind eyes. I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I won’t begin to guess. People are wild, unpredictable creatures. You can’t shove them into an envelope.
“I appreciate your honesty, Tonya, but this is simply unacceptable,” Mrs. Kemper says.
I hold back a huge sob. “Am I expelled?”
“I don’t have much of a choice here,” she says softly. “Please wait outside while I call your mother.”
How’s this for an ending: Expelled from a school that I didn’t want to attend in the first place, but somehow grew to like. My childhood best friend is no longer my best friend, and now we’re in some strange limbo about our relationship. My college plans are probably ruined, which means my future is ruined so I’ll have to live with Brian and Mom forever.
Just when I learn to embrace change, my life comes to a screeching halt.
I wait on the bench outside Mrs. Kemper’s office, tapping my sneakers against the spotless floor. I’m out there for about thirty minutes before I hear footsteps echo in the hall. I e
xpect to see Mom, but it’s Brian walking toward me, dressed in his fancy insurance-something suit.
“They called you?” I ask.
“Your mom did. She’s stuck at work,” Brian says. “This sounds serious, Toni.”
I hold back more tears, humiliated. Brian sits beside me but keeps a good distance. “What happened?” he asks.
“Mom didn’t tell you?”
“I want to hear it from you,” he says. “Your side of the story.”
This surprises me. I wipe my palms on my skirt again, nervous. “Maybe you should just talk to Mrs. Kemper.”
“Toni.” He loosens his tie. “I know I’m not cool or funny and, yes, I like the New England Patriots. I don’t always say the right thing. I feel like a complete moron sometimes. But you can talk to me. I’d like to help you.” He pauses. “You just kind of intimidate me.”
“Really?” Of all the things that have happened today, this is the most shocking.
He turns toward me. The overhead light illuminates his gray hairs. “I thought you knew.”
I almost laugh. “Just thought I annoyed the crap out of you.”
“You? Annoying? Not even a little,” he says, resting his elbows on his knees. “If I thought you were annoying, I would avoid you completely. But you know how I’m kind of around all the time? Maybe being a little too nosy? That’s me. Trying to bond…”
I smile. He is always asking questions about my life. About Micah. About Winston. Not because he wants to replace my dad or control me or irritate me but because he wants to bond. I feel like a fool for not noticing it before.
So I tell him the truth. All of it. Why I started the business in the first place. My new friendship with Emma. What really happened with Micah. How Mrs. Kemper discovered the truth. When I’m done, he looks away, making this strange gurgling sound as he thinks.
“Thank you for sending me here,” I add. “I’m sorry I got kicked out.”
“Okay then. Wow.” He stands, frowning. He takes a few deep breaths. “Sit tight. I’m going to talk to this Mrs. Kemper.”
I await my fate.
thirty-one
THEY’VE BEEN IN THERE FOR OVER an hour now. When I press my ear against the door, I hear only the muffled sound of Brian’s voice. He’s doing a lot of talking, but I can’t make out the words. He sounds serious though. Angry.
I lie down on the bench and think about Micah to pass the time. Thinking about him is my favorite pastime lately. I wonder what he’s doing at this very moment. I wonder if he’s thinking about me, too. I take out my phone and read through our texts. He sent me several “happy birthdays” today. He must be thinking about me. At least a little.
Does he regret the second kiss? Does he regret the first kiss? Why has he never mentioned them? Maybe he wants to go back to the way things were? How long can we go on pretending like everything’s normal?
When the door opens, I jump up and my pulse quickens. This is it. My sad ending comes to fruition.
Brian steps out first. He looks tired, worn, his tie loosened. Mrs. Kemper follows, picking at her blazer, and shakes Brian’s hand as she says, “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Richards.”
“Again. Thank you,” Brian replies in a serious tone. They obviously weren’t exchanging jokes in there.
Mrs. Kemper’s eyes flash to me. She doesn’t say anything before she returns to her office and closes the door. Man. She can’t even look at me anymore. I’m that big of a loser.
“What happened?” I ask, picking at my thumb. “She hates me, doesn’t she?”
Brian zips up his fancy coat. “Follow me.”
I stand there, shocked, and watch him walk down the hall. He stops, turns, and says, “Let’s go, Toni.”
Startled, I jog to catch up, my sneakers squeaking against the floor. As I follow Brian through the parking lot, I keep waiting for him to tell me the official news. Shouldn’t he at least express how much I’ve disappointed my mother? The silence is killing me.
“Drive straight home,” he says, twirling his keys. The wind messes with his thick, graying hair.
As he walks to his car, I yell, “What happened? How long are you going to torture me?”
He just waves. I sigh and run to my car. Happy birthday to me.
I’m expelled.
Mom gets home about ten minutes after we do. Brian had instructed me to wait in the living room so that’s what I’m doing when she walks in the door. I tap my feet against the frayed carpet as I sink farther into the couch. Brian rests silent and still in the plaid armchair across the room like a silent king. He won’t look at me. I so wouldn’t mind if the couch just swallowed me up right now.
Mom takes off her red coat and slings it over the back of the couch. When she’s yelling at me, I’ll just focus on the cute cartoon kittens stamped all over her scrubs. She folds her arms across her chest, pacing back and forth, and glares. I look away.
“You’re going to torture me as well,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. I talk quickly. “Okay. I deserve that. I’m sorry about the whole thing. Lying is bad. Lying for money is even worse. I thought I was helping people, but I just don’t know anymore.”
I’m out of breath and on the verge of tears. Mom plops down beside me and pats my knee. Her look softens. “You’re lucky you weren’t expelled, Toni.”
I blink a few times. “I wasn’t expelled?”
Mom looks to Brian. “You didn’t tell her?”
Brian shrugs. “Thought I’d let her sweat a little.”
Oh my God. My life isn’t ruined! A huge weight falls from my shoulders. I exhale, clutching my chest as if to console my worried heart. “I’m not expelled?” I ask. “Really? What about Emma?”
“Emma is no longer implicated in this, thanks to you. But what you did was against Winston code,” Brian says. He stands and rolls up his sleeves. “So you do have detention for the rest of the year. Plus, you have to write Mrs. Kemper a thousand-word essay about your future. She said it can’t include anything about boys.”
Relief washes over me, but I hold back my laughter. I don’t want them to think I’m not taking this seriously because I am. “I can do that,” I say, nodding. “Wow. I thought I was toast.”
“You were,” Mom says, her voice still in lecture-mode. “Brian has excellent negotiation skills.”
When I look at Brian, he just shrugs again. But he saved me. Without him, I would’ve been a goner. I jump off the couch and wrap my arms around his neck. He’s so surprised he makes this little woof-like sound and pats my back a few times and says, “I think you’re crushing my rib cage.”
I pull away and apologize for the bear hug. This is sort of weird so I take a few steps back and contain myself. I don’t think Brian and I have ever hugged before. Not even at the wedding.
“I know you’re eighteen now, but we’ve got to ground you,” Brian adds. There’s a hint of a smile on his face.
“Duh.” I’ve never been so happy to be grounded in my life, but I keep a straight face. I dodged a major bullet. But now I can mope about not kissing Micah anymore without feeling guilty about developing the habits of a hermit. This is the happiest punishment ever.
“Well.” Mom rises and clears her throat. “I can’t wait to hear more about this business of yours, Toni. But first, who wants pizza?”
The doorbell rings. We all look at each other. “Wow,” I say. “Fastest pizza delivery in the world. Did you order with your mind, Mom?”
Mom finally cracks a smile and goes to answer the door. I’m left alone with Brian. My newfound hero.
“So,” I say awkwardly. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Brian rolls his sleeves back down. Maybe the turn in our relationship feels as weird to him as it does to me.
“Pepperoni?” he asks.
Excellent timing for a subject change. “My favorite,” I say.
“Toni?” Mom calls from the foyer. “You’ve got a visitor.”
My first thought immedi
ately jumps to him. He’s come to talk things through with me. To figure our thing out together. I run my fingers through my hair, lick my lips, and skip to the door, excited to hear his voice. I hope there’s more kissing.
But it’s not him. It’s Emma. She stands there in her Winston uniform, wringing her hands, her eyes red and puffy.
“Emma,” I say, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Hey.” Her voice is soft and low. “Sorry I haven’t texted you back. I’ve been a little freaked out. Can I come in?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I step aside to let her through. She enters, close to tears. I tell Mom and Brian we need to head to my room for some serious girl discussion.
“I’ll order that pizza,” Mom calls up the stairs as we go.
Emma enters my room first. “Pizza,” she says, shaking. She paces. “Sweet. Wish I could eat, but I feel so sick about all this.”
I close the door. “It’s okay, Emma.”
“Shauna wrote a note saying it was us, Toni,” she rambles. “The business. You and me. When Mrs. Kemper questioned me, I said nothing. Not a word. She let me go, but I’m worried she’ll find more evidence and then expel me. Did she talk to you too?”
I tell her to calm down, to breathe, and then I fill her in on what happened that afternoon. How Brian saved my butt. How everything’s going to be okay. How I took responsibility for the whole thing. When I’m done, she blinks a few times, squeals, and hugs me. A lot of hugs today. This one lasts a while. Finally, Emma peels herself away and wipes a tear from her eye.
“Can I tell you something, Toni?” Her voice sounds soft, feathery.
I nod, kick off my shoes, and plop down on my bed, letting out a huge sigh. What a day. My head’s still spinning.
“I’ve never really had a friend who was a girl before,” she says. She chews on a strand of her honey hair.
“You know what?” I snort. “Me neither. Shocking, I know.”
She lets out a huge belch and sits down at my desk. She kicks off her heels and scratches her neck and smiles. “Thanks.”