by Lane Davis
Brad must have sensed it.
“You just remembered, huh?”
I was quiet and looked out the window at the building.
Brad started to laugh. I spun around and glared at him. “What the hell, man?”
He raised both his hands in defense and giggled harder. “No—no, dude. Wait. I’m—I’m sorry. I . . . damn. I was thinking about that first day I met Leslie and Beth. Remember? At the Frosh Bash?”
He dissolved into laughter and it was infectious. I smiled and shook my head. Brad was wiping his eyes. “Holy shit.” He laughed. “Macie didn’t know what hit her.”
There was a surge in my chest when he said it, and the picture of Leslie snapped into sharp focus in my head. The feelings were back—all of them this time. Not only the sadness but the warmth of the sun on my neck at the pool and the cold splash of the water as I climbed out of the pool that day at Brad’s three years ago and saw Leslie slip out of her T-shirt and kick off her sandals.
• • •
Macie and Jillian arrived a good half hour before everybody else. And by “everybody else” I mean the who’s who of the cool kids at Westport. Derek delivered. Anyone who was on a sports team or pretty or popular was there.
There were plenty of girls who were all cute enough, but Leslie was the real star.
“Holy cow,” murmured Derek when he walked out onto the deck. She was wearing a new suit I hadn’t seen in Cape Cod: a bright-red two-piece—not a bikini really; it had boy trunks and a cute top that showed just enough. Her hair was slung back in a ponytail. No bows. No makeup. No fuss.
As the pool started to fill up with people, Derek and a couple of other guys fired up the grill. Leslie and I were telling Brad about the surf instructor at the Chatham Bars Inn.
“Yeah.” Leslie laughed. “When I asked him what his name was, he said, ‘Diego, duuuuuuude.’”
I smiled. “So I was like, ‘C’mon, man. What’s your real name?’ And he was like, ‘My friend’s call me Diego, duuuuuuuuude.’”
Leslie jumped in: “So then Jillian was all business and said really slowly: ‘What . . . did your mother . . . name you?’”
At that moment, I felt Jillian’s arm around my neck as she peeked over Leslie’s shoulder. In her best Diego impersonation, she said, “Umm . . . Charleston.”
We all laughed and Leslie hugged Jillian. “Oh my God! Hi! That was so hilarious. You know he’s from this total WASPy blue-blood family. His dad is probably a professor at Harvard.”
“Yeah, but you’d never know it from the shaggy blond highlights and the dirty fingernails,” I said.
Brad laughed. “Didn’t you say he went around barefoot everywhere?”
“Yeah.” Jillian snorted. “And after that day he talked us all into surf lessons, he tried to ask Leslie out on a date.”
“And who wouldn’t, with a rack like that?”
The voice was a guy’s and came from behind me. I spun around ready to lay down the law and came nose to nose with Josh Phillips.
“’Sup, bros?” He dropped his voice to a butch Neanderthal’s, then handed me and Brad beers.
“Josh!” Jillian jumped across me to Josh for a hug. Brad held up a hand for a high five, but Josh just crossed his arms. “Dude. We’re in high school now. High fives are for children.”
I laughed as Brad locked an arm around Josh’s neck and rubbed his knuckles against Josh’s scalp, beer sloshing everywhere.
“This is Josh Phillips,” I said, introducing him to Beth and Leslie. “He’s got the fastest time for the two hundred butterfly in the state.”
Josh was lean but solid. At six foot three he was an inch taller than Brad and I, but weighed twenty pounds less and could outstretch any guy in the Northwest.
“Lovely ladies of the freshman class,” he said, tipping his red Wayfarer Ray-Bans and peering over the frames. “Anything to drink?”
“Dry martini, up,” said Macie as she slunk into the circle between Brad and me. “You can be the drink boy today, but let’s remember it’s a service role.”
“What the fuck, Macie—?” I started.
Josh held up a hand. “Easy there, Walker. This one doesn’t mean any harm; she’s just worried I look better in my swimsuit than she does.”
Macie smiled. “Or maybe I do mean some harm, Josh. And where are those little Speedos you race in? I was so hoping we’d see them on you today.”
“Board shorts today, Ms. Merrick. Didn’t want to frighten you, sweetheart,” said Josh. “Beth? Jillian? Leslie? To drink?”
“I’ll just take a Diet Coke,” said Leslie, eager to change the subject.
Jillian glared at Macie. “I’ll come with you, Josh.”
“Excellent.” He smiled. “Macie, I’m afraid we’re fresh out of gin, but I’ll make some lemonade and see if we can’t sweeten up that sour puss of yours.”
Bradley howled with laughter as Macie blushed.
“C’mon, Jills,” said Josh as he grabbed her hand. “You’ve just been promoted to assistant mixologist.” Then he dragged her over toward the grill and the outdoor kitchen area, where Derek had set up the bar.
“Not cool,” I said to Macie when Josh was out of earshot.
“Oh, come now, Jake.” Macie fake pouted. “Just reminding everyone of the natural order of things. Can’t have the swim boys running amok.”
“I see you’ve met our new gymnast?” I asked.
“Yes indeed,” said Macie. “She’s cute as a button. Came running right over to introduce herself.”
Beth smiled nervously. She seemed to be looking at everyone but Leslie.
“And this is Leslie,” I said.
Leslie smiled and extended her hand.
“Oh, I know who you are,” said Macie, ignoring her hand and reaching toward her bikini top for the chain around her neck. “Jake! How cute. You and Leslie are wearing your little friendship necklaces. Jillian told me about those.”
Leslie fingered the charm around her neck, and I felt my cheeks burn as Macie continued her act.
“I made Jillian take hers off. Can’t have the poor girl getting an ugly white blotch in the middle of her chest from that charm.”
I saw Leslie’s face cloud, and then she composed herself and tried again.
“We had a really great time in Cape Cod,” she said to Macie. “It’s so beautiful there. We were just talking about the day we took surf lessons and—”
“Oh—huh,” Macie said, interrupting her.
“What?” asked Leslie, confused.
Macie reached over and ran a finger along my collarbone, under the silver chain, and suggestively down between my pecs, where the sailboat pendant hung.
“Jake’s is a boat and yours is an anchor,” she said, looking at Leslie. Then she let out a little chuckle. “How appropriate.”
She dropped the sailboat against my chest. “Well, I need to go and say hello to some sophomores. Beth, join us?”
Beth nodded eagerly.
“Nice meeting you, Leslie,” Macie said coolly.
She took a few steps and turned back to me, adjusting the sarong that hung from her hips, under her white strapless top.
“Careful of that anchor, Jake. Wouldn’t want it tying you down.”
• • •
“You two never really got along after that,” Brad said, staring into the window of Scarecrow Video from his truck.
“We never really got along before that,” I said, sliding out of the truck. Brad followed and we walked toward the front door of the store. I saw Andy standing behind the counter. He nodded at me and raised a hand. I waved back.
“Macie felt like you were supposed to be with her. You were always her pick for high school boyfriend. I was second choice.”
“I never made Macie any promises, Brad.”
“Didn’t have to,” said Brad. “Macie promised herself that you’d be hers. You’re the first thing she ever wanted that she couldn’t have.”
I reached for the door. “Don’t worry. I won�
��t be the last.”
17. JILLIAN
Brad texted me from the video store with Jake.
Hey babe. DVD zombie flix wJake?
I responded, Calculus.
Then the phone rang. It was Katherine. I tapped ignore on my phone and kept working equations.
She called back. I sighed and tapped accept.
“Hey, Katherine,” I said.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Calculus homework,” I said. “I kind of need to get back to it.”
“Jillian, I need to talk to you,” she said.
I put down my pencil. “Okay. I’ve got five minutes, then I have to finish this assignment. I need every last brain cell to do it. I completely failed the last pop quiz on Monday. It was right after Dirkson gave us our subpoenas and there was no way I could focus.”
“What happened freshman year?”
“What?” I asked. “Freshman year? With who?”
“With everyone,” Katherine said. “How did this start?”
“Katherine, this is not a five-minute story.”
“Jillian, it’s about to be the end of the story if somebody doesn’t tell me what’s going on. I’ve never asked ’cause I figured y’all had your own thing goin’ before I got here last year, and I certainly didn’t need to know what I didn’t need to know.”
She was quiet for a minute.
“And now you need to know?” I asked.
“Jillian, Beth’s deposition . . .” Her voice trailed off, and I felt my stomach seize in a knot the way it used to when I played a piano recital when I was a little girl.
“What about it?” I asked.
“She wasn’t . . . ,” Katherine started, then stopped herself. “It didn’t go very well.” She sighed.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we be talking to Macie about this?”
“I’m calling you, Jillian, because I want what I’ve never gotten from Macie.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The truth.”
I looked down at the graph paper lying in the crease of my calculus textbook and thought about all the figuring out I’d had to do over the years with Macie—all the problems, the subtracting of certain facts, the addition of others, the division that resulted.
I was so tired of solving Macie Merrick.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“Freshman year,” said Katherine. “How did it start?”
I stretched out my legs and leaned back against my headboard, then I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and told her.
• • •
First day of freshman year, Macie stayed over the night before. We made a list of the It Crowd for that year based on the pool party. “Let’s review,” said Macie. “You, me, Jake, Bradley: freshman class royalty. New girls: Beth—gymnast, undecided cool factor. Leslie—slut who wants Jake.”
“Oh, c’mon, Macie. Leslie is not a slut. We had fun on vacation this summer.”
“Don’t know her. Don’t trust her. Did you see the way she hung all over Jake?” Macie scowled. “Just because your parents like her parents doesn’t mean she makes the cut.”
“I really think she and Jake are just friends,” I said.
“They won’t be for long,” said Macie. “I swear, by the time I’m through with her, he won’t know she exists.”
Brad walked Macie and me to lunch that first day. As we headed down the stairs, I saw Beth walking ahead of us and called her name. She stopped and turned around. A shy smile crossed her face—almost a look of relief.
“Hi, Jillian,” she said. “I was just getting worried about where I was going to sit.”
“Well, stay away from that Leslie girl,” said Macie. “That’s my advice to you. Pretty much any other table will do.”
I shot Macie a look. “Come sit with us,” I said.
The cafeteria at Westport was gorgeous and new. The whole building had been remodeled and the back of the room was two stories of glass that looked out onto the football field. Trees and a green lawn swept up to the doors, and on nice days like today, the tables on the patio under the trees were filled, too. It looked like the football team was out there, and most of the swim and gymnastic teams as well. The cheerleaders were hovering in between tables on the patio, orbiting the football and basketball players, then touching base at the row of tables just inside the doors.
Jake and Leslie were hanging out by the front doors where we walked in with Beth.
“Hey, you guys!” He waved us over.
“Hi!” Leslie was all smiles. She hugged me and then Brad. Beth fidgeted and looked at the floor. It looked like she was blushing, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Where have you been all my life?” Macie asked Jake, ignoring Leslie completely.
“Hanging with the commoners.” Jake smiled.
“How about this weekend we get together and see what we have in common?” Macie raised an eyebrow as she threw down the gauntlet.
Jake’s sideways smile peaked the corner of his mouth as he shook his head.
“Have to take a rain check on that one, Macie. Chemistry is gonna kill me this semester and we’ve already got homework. Besides, Leslie and I have a guitar lesson on Sunday, and the rest of the time, I’ll be at practice. Brad and I are the new grunts on the team. Have to show ’em we’re in shape.”
“Speaking of,” said Brad, “Derek wants us out on the patio, pronto.”
“Duty calls.” Jake winked at Leslie. “Call me tonight and let me know what time works for guitar on Sunday.”
“See you, Jake’s sis . . . ,” said Brad with a smile. He knew it drove me crazy when people referred to me in terms of Jake. Like my brother owned me or something.
“Are you talking to me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Pretty sure I am.”
“I’m Jillian,” I said, then pointed at Jake. “He would be Jillian’s brother.”
“Got it,” he said with a big grin.
Jake rolled his eyes. “Dude. Did you just use the Dazzler on my sister? Really?”
“Shh!” Brad stage-whispered. “Don’t give away the secrets of the big smile.” He winked at me as they walked away.
“Well,” said Macie, watching them go. “Somebody has an eye out for you, Miss Jillian Walker.”
“Oh, whatever.” I laughed. Beth smiled. “No, I think she’s right, Jillian.”
“You two wanna join us?” asked Leslie.
“Oh, we’d love to,” said Macie. “But Jillian and I have a ton of work to do in order to be ready for class elections in two weeks.”
“Wow!” said Leslie. “Ambitious. I thought about running, but I checked out the website a couple weeks ago and realized there’s not much time to build a platform—especially when you’re new.”
“Yeah,” said Macie with a weird smile. “It’s easier when you have a little brand recognition going for you already.”
“Well, good luck,” Leslie said. “If you need any help, I’ll be over at Jake and Jillian’s this weekend. I’d be happy to pitch in making posters or whatever you need.”
I opened my mouth to say thanks, but before I could, Macie jumped in. “Coming, Beth?” Her question was a command.
Beth sprang forward to follow us, and as she did, I saw Leslie’s face fall. I knew she was hurt. Macie had claimed me, and now she was taking Beth. As we left Leslie alone at the door, I managed a smile and a wave over my shoulder before tripping into the corner of a table as Macie dragged me away.
“Ow! Macie? What was that?” I asked.
“Sorry, ladies,” she said, addressing with a smile the girls at the table I’d smacked into.
“No worries,” said a girl with short bangs cut straight across her forehead. Her bloodred lips and nails matched her trendy, vintage cat’s-eye glasses. “Hey, you’re Macie Merrick, aren’t you?”
“Sure am,” Macie said. “I’m also starving, which is why I tried to drag Jillian here thr
ough your table instead of around it. Low blood sugar hampers my depth perception.”
“My parents voted for your dad for mayor. I’m Krista,” she said.
“Awesome,” said Macie. “Totally great. Are you freshmen?” she asked.
All four of the girls nodded.
“Even better,” said Macie. “I’m running for class president, and Jillian here is going to be my VP candidate.”
“That’s so cool,” said Krista. “Hey, do you know that girl that you were just talking to?”
“Not really,” said Macie.
The girl with the red hair sitting next to Krista piped up. “Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping you could introduce us. That girl with the blond hair is so pretty.”
Macie cocked her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Well, isn’t that sweet. And your name is . . . ?”
“Kelly,” she said, extending her hand.
Macie shook it. “Well, ladies, anyone can be that pretty.”
“What do you mean?” Krista laughed. “I’ll never look like that. That doesn’t just happen overnight.”
“It most certainly does,” said Macie.
Blank stares—all around.
“Oh, puh-leease,” Macie scoffed. Then, in a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “Do you really think that puberty is that gracious to anyone? Those tits are a hundred percent silicone.”
“Really?” Kelly’s eyes were wide like lightbulbs. “Whose mom would let them do that?”
“You’re kidding, right?” said Macie with a stifled laugh. “Have you seen her mom’s rack? Linda Gatlin, real estate agent. Google her on the way to fifth period. Same doctor did the surgery. And from what I hear, Leslie paid for those in person.”
“Wow. Impressive,” said Krista. “Where did she get the money?”
“Who said anything about money?” Macie asked, a gleam in her eyes. “Apparently, the doctor got a great deal on a house and had a special buy-one-get-one-free deal for a mother/daughter combo.”
“Oh my God,” said Kelly.
The girl across the table from her let out an “Ew!” while the other slowly slid her phone out of her purse and started sending a text.
“You’re joking,” said Krista flatly. “She paid for tits with ass?”
Macie doubled over laughing. “Oh my God. You’re hilarious,” she said to Krista. Then the smile left as quickly as it had come. “But you didn’t hear it from me, girls.”