This Is So Not Happening

by Kieran Scott

  “Huh.” Ally toyed with a box of sugar packets, mixing the white in with the brown. I was going to have to fix that later. Her dad, my manager, was kind of OCD about the sugar. “I wonder if she—”

  “So what’s up, you two? How was the first day?”

  Ally’s father walked up behind me and grasped my shoulder. I instantly stood up straight. Ally stopped talking and her face turned red. But her dad hadn’t overheard. Otherwise he wouldn’t have had that big-ass smile on.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said, getting up on her knees on the stool to give him a hug over the counter. “It was … good.”

  “Soccer practice was rough,” I added.

  “How’s the team this year?” he asked, glancing up as an older couple walked through the door. Chase, the sixth-year college “student” at the register, took their order, which wasn’t that complicated, so I stayed where I was. Ally sat back down again.

  “Good,” I replied. I picked up another mug to dry, but my hand was shaking, so I stopped. “We’re good.”

  “And, Ally … how’s your mom? How’s the wedding planning going?”

  His smile twitched and his voice broke when he said “wedding.” Guess he wasn’t cool with his ex-wife getting remarried. But from the grin he had on, he was trying to be. Kind of like I was trying to act normal even though I’d spent ninety percent of the day feeling like I could heave.

  “Good,” Ally replied, shrugging. She looked at me instead of him. Ally wasn’t that psyched about the wedding either and I knew talking about it with her dad was tense. As much as I liked Mr. Ryan, I hated that her parents had put her in the middle of their gross love-triangle. “I haven’t really gotten that into it.”

  “Don’t avoid it on my behalf, bud,” he said. “This is a huge deal for your mom. You should be there for her.”

  She just stared at him. “If you say so.”

  Mr. Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Are you two okay? You seem out of it.”

  That was when Chloe walked in. Ally and I both froze. Chloe glanced around, and when she saw Ally, I think she almost backed out again. But then she changed her mind and came over. Then Keisha called Mr. Ryan over for some help with something.

  “I’ll be back,” he promised, eyeing us.

  “Great,” I said under my breath.

  Luckily he didn’t hear me.

  Chloe hung on to the strap of her bag as she stopped nearby. “Hi, guys.”

  Ally stared down at her hands. Now she was the one who looked ready to heave.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I wiped my palms over and over on the towel. They were sweating like crazy.

  “Um, Jake? Can I talk to you for a second?” Chloe asked.

  Her eyes kept darting around. From me to Ally to Ally’s dad to the loud-ass losers by the window. She looked like she wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. From the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Ryan head back to his office. Once the door was closed, I found my voice.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Chloe shot Ally a look. “Alone?”

  My teeth clicked together. “Ally knows everything. We can talk here.”

  Chloe touched her face, then her elbow, then her stomach. It was like she was uncomfortable in her own skin. Finally she let out a sigh.

  “Fine. Okay. I was just wondering … I have a doctor’s appointment this Friday at five.” Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear her over the gurgling cappuccino machine behind me. “Would you come with me? Please? I don’t want to go alone.”

  I felt like somebody had just flipped on one of those bright police spotlights right in my face. “Why?”

  Ally’s eyes kind of bugged out. Chloe looked like she was about to cry. What? That wasn’t a valid question?

  “Sorry. I just … I have practice, so …”

  Ally looked away. She went digging in her bag like a raccoon in a garbage can. Okay. Clearly I was doing something wrong here.

  “You can leave practice a few minutes early, right?” Chloe said. “I just … don’t think I can do this by myself and no one else knows, so …”

  My stomach felt hollow. And even though this was about the last thing on the face of the earth I ever wanted to do, I couldn’t say no. Not with Chloe looking so scared and sad.

  “Um, okay,” I said. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.” Chloe put her keys down on the counter and pushed her hair back from her face with both hands. She sat down next to Ally and sort of slumped. Ally automatically put her hands up to steady her.

  “Are you okay?” Ally asked.

  “Yeah, I just … I need something to eat,” she said. “I get hungry and two seconds later, I get dizzy.” She looked at me. “Can I have a muffin or something?”

  “Yeah.” I rushed to get one for her, snatching it out of the pastry case with the metal tongs and dropping it in front of her like a grenade. Chloe picked one of the crumbs off the top and placed it carefully on her tongue. She chewed it so slowly you’d think I’d fed her snails.

  Ally and I stared at each other. I could tell she wanted me to say something, but what? I was so sure I’d say the wrong thing—kind of like I just had when she asked me to go to the doctor—that panic started to rise up inside my chest, blocking everything else out. Ally finally saved my ass.

  “How are you … I mean, have you been feeling okay?” Ally asked her.

  I felt this warm rush, guilty that I hadn’t been the one to ask, and grateful that Ally was being so cool. I clicked the tongs together at my side over and over again.

  “Yeah. Just the dizziness,” Chloe said, slowly putting another crumb in her mouth. “And I’m nauseous in the mornings, until I eat.”

  She reached for her bag and took out her wallet.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Paying for the muffin.”

  “No. It’s fine. It’s on me,” I told her.

  Ally kind of smiled, her lips tight and flat. At least I’d done something right.

  “Thanks,” Chloe said. “I should go.” She slid off the stool, taking the muffin with her. “I’ll pick you up at the field on Friday?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said.

  Even though Hammond would probably kill me. I clenched the tongs together so tight I thought they might break.

  “Actually, better let me meet you there,” I said. “I’m gonna have to make up an excuse, and you picking me up would kind of kill whatever I come up with.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you the address,” Chloe said. She looked at Ally. “Thanks for being so cool about this. After what I said to you at Shannen’s party and now this … I don’t know why you don’t hate me.”

  Ally cleared her throat. She shifted on her stool and rubbed her palms together between her legs. “Don’t worry about it.” She cleared her throat again. “If you ever need anything …”

  She trailed off and let the thought die. I wasn’t sure any of us believed it anyway.

  Chloe looked at the floor. “Thanks. I’ll see you guys at school.”

  Then she practically ran out. It took a second for me to start breathing again. The sophomores in the corner laughed suddenly and loudly, and I wanted to fling my tongs at their heads.

  “That was cool of you,” Ally said. “Saying you’ll go with her.”

  “Yeah,” I said, placing the tongs down on the counter. I leaned forward, my elbows on the marble, and put my hands over hers. “I can’t believe you were so nice to her.”

  Ally’s eyebrows shot up. “I was? I totally froze.”

  “No, really. You’re amazing,” I said, hanging my head. “And I suck.”

  “You don’t suck,” she said lightly. She took one of her hands out and put it on top of mine. “This whole thing sucks.”

  I nodded, and stared down at the mound of our tangled-up fingers. I was going to the doctor on Friday. The lady doctor. With the girl who was going to have my baby. I held on to Ally so tightly I was surprised she didn’t squirm. We just sat there like t
hat for the longest time. Me clinging to her, her letting me, until the line at the register got too long to ignore, and I had to let go.

  ally

  Life’s just weird. One second there’s tons of stuff that matters so much it’s stressing you out like crazy. Like getting my recruitment website just right. Making lists of coaches and scouts to call once the season started. Figuring out which schools to apply to and whether I wanted to be close to home or far away. Last week, it was life-consuming.

  But I hadn’t thought about any of it since Tuesday night. Not once.

  On Friday morning, I sat at the huge island in the center of Gray’s kitchen, my Frosted Flakes getting soggier and soggier as I stared at the babycenter.com website on my computer. I’d gone there thinking I could maybe figure out what Chloe’s options were, and the first thing I’d seen was a due-date predictor. They wanted you to put in the date of your last period, and then they’d tell you when the baby was due. Of course, I had no idea when Chloe’s last period had been. When had they had sex? June? July? August? How pregnant was she, exactly? Did her baby look like a cell sac, or was it already the size of a walnut, like the picture in front of me?

  Down in the corner there was a special section to click on for daddys-to-be. That was Jake. That was my boyfriend. I tried to picture him holding a baby, and when I did, he looked completely freaked out. But he might have to do it soon. He might have to actually take care of a human being. Him and Chloe. How were they supposed to do that? And wouldn’t they have to be … together to do it? My heart felt like it was gulping for air all of a sudden. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure out where I fit in that lovely domestic scenario.

  “Hi, hon! Whatcha looking at?”

  My mom breezed into the kitchen with a huge smile on, reaching back to tuck her hair up into a bun. I slapped my computer closed and almost took my fingertip off. My mother froze, suspicious.

  “Ally?”

  “I was just … looking for wedding presents,” I improvised.

  Gray and Quinn strolled into the kitchen right behind her. He was all coiffed in a gray pinstriped suit that probably cost more than Jake’s Jeep. She was decked out in a cute tweed skirt, tall boots, and a high-collared shirt, her blond hair perfect and her makeup carefully applied. Honestly, I think Quinn actually believed a Hollywood talent scout was going to descend on Orchard Hill High out of nowhere and discover her on the FroYo line. I mean, who dressed like that for school?

  “Oh. That’s sweet, Ally, but you don’t have to get us anything,” Gray said, giving my shoulders a squeeze as he passed me by. He joined my mom at the coffee machine and they shared a kiss as he poured half and half in her mug for her. Which made me think of how my dad used to do the same thing. Which made me nauseous. I pushed my Frosted Flakes aside.

  “Gray’s right. Just make a good speech at the wedding,” Mom said.

  My mouth fell open. She couldn’t be serious. “I have to make a speech?”

  “Hello? You are the maid of honor,” Quinn said, peeling a banana as she sat next to me.

  I dropped my head onto my hand. “Just kill me now.”

  “Ally,” my mom said in her favorite warning tone.

  I sighed and rubbed my face with both hands. It felt dry and tight, like my eyes.

  “Ally?” Now she sounded more concerned. She placed her hand on my back and I tensed. “Is something wrong? Is it the wedding?”

  “No.” I slid my laptop off the island and into its case. “I’m fine about the wedding.”

  “Liar, liar …” Quinn sang, tilting her head to the side.

  “Quinn,” her dad said in his favorite warning tone.

  “What? I totally heard her on the phone last night telling someone all about how the wedding planning was stressing her out,” Quinn said.

  My face burned. “You listened in on my phone call?”

  “Well, you could try dialing it down a notch,” Quinn said, rolling her eyes. “They could hear you all the way in Newark.”

  “Mom!” I groaned.

  “Girls, please.” My mother held out her hands like two stop signs. She and Gray looked at each other over our heads and, surprisingly, smiled. “Well, they’ve got the sister thing down.”

  Okay, now I really was going to puke.

  “I have to go,” I said, gathering my stuff. “Dad’s probably outside already. I’m going with him to Jump before school.”

  I headed toward the foyer, but my mom followed me.

  “Ally, hang on a second, please.”

  I paused in the center of the marble floor, next to the huge potted tree I’d never seen anyone water. Yet somehow, it was still alive. One of the many mysteries of the Nathanson household.

  “Remember what we said,” my mother told me. “At the end of the summer? You promised me that if there was ever anything wrong, you would talk to me about it.”

  I yanked my backpack strap onto my shoulder, feeling heavy with guilt. Looking back on the summer always made me feel awful. I’d been a brat, plain and simple. I hadn’t liked the way things were going and instead of talking to anyone about it, I’d pouted and complained and acted like an idiot, trying to manipulate my mom into getting back together with my dad. After we’d had our long, long make-up talk, I had promised her I’d tell her if something was bothering me, but I’d also promised myself I’d be nicer to her. Which meant not complaining about her wedding and a speech I didn’t know I had to make.

  But I also couldn’t tell her what was going on. It wasn’t my secret to tell.

  “It’s just … there’s so much, between the SAT and college applications and the recruitment thing,” I told her. “I just want it to be over with already. I want to know where I’m going to be next year.”

  I’d actually kind of like to be there already, I added silently, wishing for a mode of escape from all the drama.

  “I know. I know it’s not easy,” my mom said, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “But you’re gonna do fine. You’re amazing, Ally. Any college would be lucky to have you.”

  I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “So, listen … there is something else I want to talk to you about,” my mother said as we walked slowly toward the double doors at the front of the house. “Gray wants to take me on a real honeymoon. Two weeks on the Amalfi Coast,” she said with a grin. “But if we go, that means …”

  With a start I realized what she was getting at. My birthday. If she was gone for two weeks after the wedding, she wouldn’t be here for my eighteenth birthday. I took a breath, remembered my promise to myself, and lifted my shoulders.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “We can just celebrate when you get back.”

  “Yeah?” Her voice was an excited squeak. “Are you sure?”

  “Totally. It’s no big deal.” But inside, my heart felt heavy. She was already doing it. She was already choosing Gray over me.

  “When we get back we’ll do our traditional birthday dinner,” she told me. “It’ll just be a few days late.”

  “Okay,” I said, backing toward the door. I saw my father’s newly leased Taurus idling in the driveway. “Cool. But I should go. Dad’s here.”

  “Okay. Tell him I said hi!” my mom said awkwardly.

  “I will.”

  Outside I jogged to the car, feeling the weight of the conversation tug free from my shoulders. My father had the radio on, tuned to a classic rock station.

  “Tell me you have those cinnamon roll things at the shop this morning,” I said, buckling my seat belt.

  He chuckled, scratching at the stubble on his cheek. “Rough morning in the Palais du Nathanson?” he said in a French accent.

  “Something like that,” I said.

  My dad pulled out of the driveway and we cruised down the hill, past all the mansions and gated driveways and skinny women jogging with their tiny dogs, headed for town. I was just starting to relax when I saw a woman with a jogging stroller, pushing a sleeping baby up toward the cre
st. I closed my eyes and sunk lower in my seat.

  “Everything all right, bud?” my dad asked.

  “Yeah.” Sure. Fine. Great.

  “I was thinking, if you want to go over your applications one night this week, I could help you narrow things down,” my dad said, lowering the volume. “Maybe take some of the pressure off?”

  I looked up at him. College. Applications. Visions of brick and stone buildings, fancy school logos, and happily smiling students hanging on lush lawns filled my mind, crowding out due-date calculators and gender predictors. The future. My future. Somewhere other than here, with people who’d never heard of Orchard Hill, of Chloe and Jake. And even though I felt a twinge of disloyalty, for thinking of a life beyond Jake, my chest filled with airy hope.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

  My dad smiled, and for the first time in days, I smiled too.

  jake

  The doctor’s office smelled like lemon. No. Not like lemon. Like a lemon car air freshener. It had that synthetic fake-citrus smell that’s so foul it makes the hairs inside your nose itch. Every time I breathed in, I wanted to heave. It didn’t help that it was, like, five-fucking-trillion degrees in there and everyone was staring at me like I’d come to each of their homes and personally slaughtered their family pets. The pregnant woman in the corner with the graying hair. The couple that looked like newlyweds off some reality show with the leather, the dye jobs, and the bling. Even the janitor shot me a look on her way out, lowering her sunglasses so she could really give it to me.

  What the hell was wrong with these people? Maybe me and Chloe were totally in love. Married even. Or maybe I was her brother. Yeah. Why not? God, they’d feel so stupid if they found out I was just her brother and I’d come here with her just trying to be nice. Jackasses.

  “How long is this gonna take?” I asked Chloe, my leg bouncing nervously.

  “I don’t know.” Chloe licked her lips and stared at my knee. “Could you please stop doing that? It’s making me tense.”