by LK Thompson
Morgan is sick and getting sicker.
Taking pills.
I watched her put them in her mouth and swallow. Her eyes closed as if meditating—the chalky white tablet melting into her bloodstream. A swift gesture like that goes unnoticed by all but me. And I didn’t say a word. I just watched and wished I hadn’t seen it. I pleaded silently that it could be someone else’s problem. Would a good friend do that? I noticed her frame, thinner and more delicate, but said nothing. I’m thinking, diet pills.
Or worse.
So, what?
I went to Ev’s winter dance recital today—it’s a smaller version of the one they hold in spring. I walked right by Morgan’s twin sister’s. I’ve seen them more than Morgan has, but never mention it to her. I tell myself that I don’t wanna make Morgan feel bad. Her sister’s moved out and live with her Dad, after all. Both girls look to be thirteen, but I’m not sure. I wonder if Morgan even knows they dance at the same place as my sister. Probably not. I’ve never told her.
The whole recital went as expected. Ev hid under the mandatory heavy blush and eye shadow required of her, appearing fifty times her age, but she danced older too. Soaring, gliding, leaping across the stage and smiling at all the right parts. I can see what she means about flying. She does. Lithe and limber like a majestic deer in a field, punctuated with rhythmic motions and hitting the musical beats perfectly. Mom sat pin straight in her chair obsessively pulsing her body along with the choreography. I watched her and almost understood her plight for the entirety of the routine. Even my heart stood suspended until the song was ended and Ev had nailed it.
On the ride home, Dad and I made the family decision to dig out the menorah and Christmas tree tonight. Mom’s Jewish and Dad’s Catholic, but we always joke that we’ll do whatever has the biggest party.
I was supposed to see Mike tonight, but Ev cried when she found out I was going to miss her recital. I’d forgotten completely.
At home, I sat on the couch texting Mike as Dad strung the lights and Mom searched the kitchen for a cookie mix. Ev snuck up beside me and whispered, “Psst. Who’re you texting?”
She doesn’t have a phone and hates when we do anything other than talk to her. I hid my phone’s screen and said, “Just a boy.”
“Who, Craig? I like him. He doesn’t treat me like a baby the way Jake used to.”
I shook my head, “No, not Craig,” and she asked, “Another one? Why do you have so many boyfriends?”
I thought aloud, “Not enough hobbies, I guess. Why do you have such cute dimples?” I pulled her next to me and squeezed her. I wanted to cuddle her like I used to, but she’s gotten so big. She’s nearly my height now. Her arms folded on her lap, looked as long as mine. My heart seized at the observation.
“So, did ya liked my dance?” She asked.
“I told you, Ev. You were incredible! Too much makeup, but the best dancer up there by light years,” I answered.
Ev giggled, proud of herself. “Mom puts too much eyeshadow on me, doesn’t she?” I put my hand to my chin, pretending to think before agreeing, “Yeah, she does. She puts too much on herself too. Next time, ask me.”
She stared at me a moment too long and I could tell that she was absorbing these seconds with me, her big sister who’s barely home. I shoved my phone into the creases of the couch and turned on the TV. Ev deserved that.
12/8
“He didn’t say too much,” Roy warned, “Just hinted at being aware of you and Mike having relations. Again, I’m not sure how much he cares, but I’d get better at covering my tracks if I were you. If you wanna keep your job here, which it seems like you do.”
I missed the staff meeting last night and Roy’s filling me in on what exactly, I missed. I’m nervous by his words. My stomach rumbled. “Ugh, should I go to his office and try to talk to him about it? I mean, what would I say? It’s not like we’re anything serious. Just having fun.” I kept my voice light in the hopes of convincing him.
Roy diverted his eyes, “C’mon, Bella. We all see it. I can’t make you listen to me, but at least keep your guard up. Does he even know you’re not eighteen, yet?”
My skin crawled, “No. But, I’m seventeen—old enough to drive and operate a vehicle.”
“And yet, you don’t. Keep yourself safe. Okay? I don’t trust that guy.” At that moment, Crystal waltzed through the door to the kitchen and chimed in, her voice strong and powerful. It almost knocks me over. “You telling Bella about the awkward lecture Jimmy gave us?”
Roy nodded and she cackled a familiar laugh. It sounded like Taryn. Crystal was making fun of me.
“Listen, it’s none of my business but I’ve been here a long time and know a thing or two. The first thing is, you can’t piss off Jimmy. And the second is, you can’t date Mike. He’s a good looking guy who cares about one thing and one thing only. As his friend, I can say it honestly. You’re the youngest and prettiest thing in here—innocent and untouched and he wants it bad. But, none of it’s for keeps. He’s a power hungry dude who’ll do whatever it takes to make the most money or have the hottest girl. Right now, you’re a prize to be won.”
My face was blood red as I interrupted Crystal, “You guys, stop! Calm down! I’m seeing someone else who is much more age appropriate, too. I know what I’m doing.”
There it was. One life spilling into the next. Something I swore I wouldn’t do.
Later in the night, I ducked into Mike’s office when he signaled for me and I flung my arms around his neck as he lifted me into the air.
“I heard about the meeting.”
“Aw, Jimmy’s just being a tough guy. He’d never do anything about it. We just got a little carried away is all. Can you blame us?” His smile is sly, almost devilish and I think about Crystal’s warning.
Mike was being truthful—since returning from his trip, we weren’t being very careful. Code 5050 sprung onto my phone two to four times in a shift, sometimes more. I didn’t realize how it must’ve looked.
“Do you think we have to, stop?”
Mike lifted me up pressed me against the wall that he shares with Jimmy’s office. He kissed me wordlessly and for this one moment, I wanted to be his completely because I might have ruined it all by telling Roy and Crystal the truth about Craig. They don’t owe me anything, and I should’ve known better than to trust them. I held onto him tight and didn’t let go. For over thirty minutes, I stayed in his office and yes, it felt defiant, but I didn’t care. If it’s all gonna end, I needed this.
Not for him. For me.
12/12
“Do you ever feel something happening before you can pin point exactly what it is?” Harlow’s eyes were searching for something off into the distance and speaking quietly. I wanted to pull her aside for quite some time to address the Devin break up rumors buzzing through the halls. Annoying gnats, impossible to kill. Lately, they’ve been whipping in every direction, unavoidable, even for me.
I asked, “What do you mean? Are you having a psychic moment?”
“Yeah,” Harlow’s eyes caught mine, and she cautioned, “Something bad’s gonna happen, Elle. Devin’s gonna break up with me or Taryn’s gonna kill that guy that stands in her parking space. Or maybe he’s gonna kill us and Morgan’s gonna run away, I don’t know. But the universe is warning us and we’re not listening. I can feel it.”
I tried to laugh, “Stop, Harley. I know Taryn’s been like, extra awful lately, but what are you talking about?”
She shrugged, “It’s true. No matter how much I like Devin, it won’t matter. Taryn doesn’t want us together and now the rumors are everywhere. He’s distant. Blake started texting me, too, with all these apocalyptic warnings and he won’t listen to me when I beg for him to leave me alone. I’m telling you this because I love you, Elle—shit’s going down.”
The Blake thing is news to me, because even if Taryn and Blake don’t have a conventional relationship, she’s very much taken ownership over him. Even if they never talk, he�
�s not fair game. Not even close.
I warned gently, “Be careful with Blake, Harley.”
“Are you kidding me, Elle? I wish he’d leave me alone but when I blocked his number, he passed me notes. Notes that Taryn caught him writing! Think PHS would dole out a restraining order? Because I sorta doubt it.”
I laughed, thankful for the humor, “Blake’s harmless, but don’t piss Taryn off. You know how she is.”
Harlow looks serious, “I do, Elle. And I’m terrified. I’m in a hole and I don’t know how I got here. I especially don’t know how to get out.” She said, every inch of her effected by Taryn’s terrorizing. Even her hair was flat in a sad hair way. I reached out to touch it, ring it around my finger, when she asked, “Will you promise me something?”
I dropped my arm and answered, “Sure, what?”
“Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t ditch me again like last year?”
A tear stung my eye and I reached for her hand. “Oh Harley. Consider last year ancient history. You’re my best friend. I promise.”
She’s so scared of what’s about to happen, and now I am too.
12/14
Harlow’s right. Taryn’s lost at sea. She’s drinking too much, with weaker excuses as to why she wants to crack a bottle of vodka or fireball, lately. With each sip, her words grow darker and obsessively more negative. When I blink to focus I can see it so clearly, her obsession circling her like a dozen hawks. She needs to redirect her energy onto something of substance. But the way she speaks makes it hard to break in and talk sense into her. Harlow texted me, I don’t get it, Elle! She hates Devin. She likes Tony. She says I’m ditching the group. That Devin’s pulling us apart. I’m selfish. But why wouldn’t I ditch her? She hates me! Every time I’m with Taryn, I wanna pull my hair out!
She sends it at the end of a particularly grueling shift and I’m sitting on the“great” bench with Mike, so I mention it to him. Roy and Crystal kept my secret and Mike and I are more connected than ever. But, on the great bench, he does most of the talking. Normally, I’m careful not to mention PHS, or my life there.
However, he didn’t get flustered by it. In fact, he didn’t skip a beat. He said, “Taryn is the mean one, right? Sounds to me like she’s just using empty rhetoric filled with buzz words to sidetrack you guys. She’s created a storyline about Harlow and wants desperately for you all to follow it. Worked last year, right? Harlow’s self-absorbed and a home wrecker. If she says it enough, the whole school will believe her, even Harlow’s boyfriend.”
Mike said politicians do it all the time. It’s how they get their followers to fall in line. Gotta admit, it’s effective. He said, “If she’s a control freak and nobody follow’s along, she’ll probably go ape shit. More than once.”
It sounded familiar.
Two nights ago, Taryn threw her party and glared from her kitchen window at Devin sitting beside Harlow on the curb under the streetlight, risking hypothermia over stepping foot inside her party. Devin’s not chained to Taryn the way we are and it shows. He’s exercising his freedoms and taking Harlow with him. But Harlow’s torn—does she stay with the boy she likes or stick with her friend, who’s been nothing short of heinous lately. If Taryn had never ripped her apart last year, I know Harlow would stand up to her, unaware of what would come of it. Now, she knows. Stand up to Taryn—get annihilated.
This year is the most thrilling in my entire life and yet, I want to crawl in a hole and hide. There’s a rumor circulating that Taryn, Harlow, Morgan and I are a “disease” to PHS. Something people want to hunt and destroy it. Craig tells me to ignore it and I do because maybe they’re right. And maybe there’s a part of me that wants to destroy us too.
1/8
In school, Craig watched me, waiting. He wanted a personal invitation to Taryn’s house and I was annoyed. He always does this, which I find funny because Taryn loves having Seniors at her parties. It’s the underclassmen lemmings, she can’t stand. Oh, and Devin. Well, and any girl in our grade. Hmm, come to think of it, she doesn’t care for most of the school. But, Senior guys? Yes please!
Anyway, I waited until the end of the day because quite honestly, I couldn’t take the pressure. I bent over to tie the laces on my boot, when Craig emerged from around a corner and asked, “Need help?”
I looked up and offered a smile, “No thanks. Been tying my shoes since Kindergarten, if you can believe it.” I said, “Sweet of you to ask, though.”
He laughed, “Was it really Kindergarten? I feel like I was rocking velcro way older than that.”
With that, he broke me. Craig’s funny. I laughed and stood tall, to observe all the eyes absorbing us. Even Jake, who was down the hall, beside Michelle, his official girlfriend watched us, without blinking. Man, we sure knew how to captivate a room. Inquiring minds wondered, what are they? I stood tall and hugged Craig, smelling his cologne. His arms wrapped around me and as he squeezed me tightly, I asked the inevitable, “So, you coming out tonight?”
Craig exhaled, releasing me and visibly relieved to cut through the chit chat. He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Party at Taryn’s? Yeah, sure.” We walked together, underclassmen spreading apart to let us through until we were outside in the parking lot. Right before we separated, Craig asked, “Oh. Think Taryn would mind if I bring a couple friends?”
“The more the merrier. See you there.”
A few hours later, I was in Taryn’s kitchen, cutting limes, which is something I’ve picked up from working at Jimmy’s. I put them in a cup and searched for the salt. I knew better than to use the crystal salt shaker, and opened the cabinets to find a plate suitable. I’d just dump a mound in the middle and call it a day. Nothing too fancy for a house party.
A text buzzed my phone, so I ran to the counter to retrieve it when a loud, thudding knock on the window jolted me backwards. I jumped out of my skin! There was a face staring back at me from outside and it was Mike! He wore a thick winter coat and baseball cap, his shoulders raised to his ears with his hands in his coat pockets. What was he doing there?!
I’d told him about Taryn’s parties when he asked why I couldn’t work on Friday nights. And then, during our time together on the great bench he figured out where she lived when I accidentally bragged about knowing the people who owned the beach mansion. But I couldn’t believe he was actually physically there, like, in the flesh.
I ran to unlock the side door and ushered him inside to Taryn’s chef’s kitchen—which is a separate, smaller kitchen with a door, separate from the larger, open one. Without a word, Mike lifted me up, his hands icy cold against my stomach and I squealed, “Mike! How long were you out there? How did you know I’d be in here?” I asked, genuinely curious and partially nervous to hear his answer.
“Don’t you believe in fate?”
He chuckled, pushing his way into the room and placing me down on a counter. I unzipped his jacket and put my arms around his waist. Being with him felt like home in a way—so familiar, so intoxicating. His hands slipped up my shirt and tugged me towards him by my bare waist. His hands were freezing! Mike began kissing me and it was different than ever before. He wasn’t being careful one bit. He urged, “Come on, Elle. This is what parties are for. Introduce me to your friends. Take me around.”
It was a terrifying proposition. “But, you’ve never met my friends before. They’ll freak. Trust me, you’re not safe here. My best friend, Taryn is basically crazy.” I said hurriedly.
Doe-eyed, he begged again, “Then, don’t introduce me, but give me a tour at least. This house is ridiculous!”
He was insistent and if it were Jake or maybe even Craig, I’d hate it, wishing it would end or make up every excuse to leave. But with Mike, it felt like an act—I pretended to shoo him away feeling the pressure of his words. It was a pressure I wanted. Something that made this party worth attending. Even when I’m afraid of him, being next to him is exhilarating.
“Mike, if my friends catch us together
, I’m dead. They don’t even know I work at Jimmy’s yet. And if the school finds out I work at a strip club, I’ll never live it down. My parents will find out. I’ll have to quit.”
Mike dropped his hands from the clasp of my bra and my heart plummeted. I outstretched my arms around his neck and pulled him into me. Seriously, that was all it took. I wasn’t afraid anymore and his hands felt possessive around me, forcing my insides to melt. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him deeply, unable to calculate my next step. What was I doing!
“Let’s get outta here.” He whispered.
I wanted to do exactly what he said. I pressed my body into his to show him that I want this. I do. I just, can’t. A lie came to me and I spoke it quickly and fluidly—it’s a special party for Morgan and I couldn’t miss it. It was an easy lie that he digests without a hiccup. He carefully placed me on the ground before pulling me into the kitchen pantry. He stared into my eyes and said, “You look different when you’re not at Jimmy’s. Even hotter, if that’s possible.”
A compliment from Mike weighs triple and I’m mush under the weight of it. I wondered, could I just leave? Would anybody care?
I stood on my toes and I pushed my mouth into his because there are no words and I needed to just kiss him. Thank him. Runaway with him.
I want to.
Kissing Mike consumes me. A small worry over Craig flitters by, but the thought of being caught is weirdly breath-taking. What would I do? For entire minutes, I wondered if we wanted to be found this way, or if it were just physically impossible to detach ourselves from one another.
But then, a noise jolted me into reality. Someone outside the kitchen made a sound and I wiped my mouth, whispering, “I’ve gotta go!” He doesn’t look mad and his face tells me he understands. Then, he squeezed my waist and kissed me on my forehead. In a flash, he’s out the back door and gone, casually walking down the hill of Taryn’s side lawn.