The Big F

by Maggie Ann Martin

  Zoe turned around to look at him again, and I kicked her shin under the table. She cursed at me and faced me once more. “He’s wearing a DCC T-shirt. Are you sure he doesn’t go here?”

  I scoffed. “That’s impossible—his mom would have called my mom if they were back.”

  “Maybe it’s just him,” she said.

  “Maybe,” I said, still staring. I reached for the coffeepot but paused as his eyes met mine for an actual length of time. He gave me the look, like he knew who I was but couldn’t quite place me. All I could do was smile back as casually as I could manage.

  His last friend got his food, and the group started to pack up. My face probably resembled a tomato. We kept our intense gaze as he left, and he stopped near our table. I almost thought he was going to say something—that he’d realized how he knew me—but he followed his band of party animals outside.

  “A little unresolved neighborly business there, Dan?” Zoe asked once he left.

  “No more than the average neighbor,” I said. At least I hadn’t thought so. The name Luke Upton hadn’t even crossed my mind in over seven years.

  “Whatever,” she said. She smiled her wicked grin again and took a sip of coffee. “But I do have an idea for you that is completely unrelated to your ex-neighbor-boyfriend-hot-guy. Come with me to DCC this semester.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Come be my community college buddy. I need moral support, and I don’t feel quite as selfish asking now,” she said.

  “Do you think they’ll let me in—”

  “Danielle, DCC will let you make up missing AP credits, so you could totally go to Ohio State in the spring if you finish the English class here. And then we can be freshmen together and save each other from the freshmen fifteen or be designated drivers—”

  “Because we went to so many parties in high school,” I interjected. Zoe scowled.

  “College is going to be different, Danielle, I can feel it. Can you imagine being at the same school again? That would be so much fun!” she said. Zoe and I did have a ridiculous amount of fun together, and though I’d never thought to consider DCC as an option since I’d been born and bred an OSU fan, I warmed up to the idea more as we discussed it.

  “I guess it would be, but my parents were so set on Ohio State. It’s the Reevis-Cavanaugh legacy to go to OSU. I mean, my mom probably has an emergency plan in place. I’m sure she’s making calls right now to try and get me an appeal interview,” I said. “I have no idea how I’m going to tell my dad.”

  “Well lucky for you, your bee-otch of a cousin already did the job for you. Now comes the asking for forgiveness and crying,” she said. “Maybe they’ll look at it like my mom does—it’s a character-building school that teaches you about responsibility. I’ve already taught Alyssa that there’s no use slacking off in school. If you want to leave Denton in our family, you have to get a scholarship. God, I wish I figured that out sooner.”

  Zoe’s mom took care of Zoe and her little sister, Alyssa, by herself, and had done so for as long as I’d known them. While Sara Cabot rocked the whole single mom gig, money was always tight with them. Zoe had worked at Freeman’s Market for her entire high school career to pay for her car and anything else she wanted outside her mom’s budget (which included her enormous amounts of crafting supplies). Denton Community College opened doors for Zoe without piling on heaps of debt. Zoe has gotten over the fact that she couldn’t feasibly afford even in-state colleges, but the fact that Zoe, who was destined to be a fashion/home décor designer, couldn’t go to the school of her dreams wasn’t fair.

  “Is everything okay? Your car is a bit of a craft tornado,” I said, recalling the explosion in her backseat.

  “Oh yeah, just the same old stuff with Alyssa,” she said. Alyssa had reached the same age as Noah, but where Noah channeled his fourteen-year-old angst into acting, Alyssa channeled hers onto Zoe and Sara. Her latest display of angst involved ruining one of Zoe’s newly crafted tables and calling her a loser.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. Zoe downed the last of her coffee in a large gulp and slammed the mug onto the table. “Let’s do something fun, Danielle! I need a distraction, pronto.”

  My mind drifted back to Luke Upton and the group of prebuzzed, hormone-filled college students undoubtedly heading to a party. The thought of going home right now made me want to disappear. Heck, we both wanted to avoid home right now. A small part of my brain started chanting “party, party!” and the usually rational part of my brain agreed. Luke Upton aside, Zoe and I were going to have fun tonight against the odds.

  “Did you see where Luke and his friends were going?” I asked.

  “And the rebel is here to stay.” Zoe smiled.

  It didn’t take much driving to find the mass of cars in front of an older house tucked into a tree-filled neighborhood. Zoe drove down the block and parked by the curb. We sat in her car for a minute, gathering our wits and deciding if the party was really in our best interest. Both of us were obviously past the point of wanting what was best for us. And, while that seemed like force enough to send us home, we both hopped out of the car and headed to the house party overflowing with kids.

  We walked in the door and the crowd engulfed us. No one really danced like in movies; they all just stood around laughing and passing around cups. We’d been slammed into by passing people at least a dozen times, and Zoe screamed as beer splattered her feet. A kid in the room next to us yelled something and cranked up the music, inciting some casual head-bobbing.

  “Ladies, no drink in hand? Everyone has a fun time at my party.” A skinny, gawky guy shoved cans into our hands and moved quickly on to his next victims. Zoe threw her head back and took a sip while I held mine more for show. If Zoe planned on going all-out on her first night of rebellion, I needed to keep my can full. Zoe pulled her headband out of her hair and threw it into her purse, shaking out her curly mess of dark hair. She smiled at me again and grabbed my hand.

  “Let’s go dance!” she said. Out on the patio and into the backyard of the house were the dancers. The bass of club-type songs beat loudly, and I wondered how their neighbors kept from calling the cops for noise disturbances. She pulled me onto the grassy area where sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, and I gagged as my arm wiped past a few of them. Zoe’s empty can hit the grass so she could dance, and when I matched her idea, mine splattered over my pants and on the couple behind us. The guy yelled, and I apologized profusely. Zoe just laughed.

  “Don’t worry about that! Just dance!” she said. Where Zoe possessed the ability to dance in a semi-cool fashion, I did not. My go-to “robot in a grocery store” dance routine was not as big of a crowd pleaser as anticipated. To make matters more awkward, a guy came up and started to dance with Zoe, and I was left to third wheel it up with them.

  “I’m going to get another drink!” I yelled at her. She waved her hand to tell me to go, and she turned around to face the guy.

  I wove my way back out of the bodies and into the house, where things had cleared out even more. I found the kitchen and looked around for cups but couldn’t find any. Seeing no other solution, I grabbed a beer can and started to dump its contents down the sink. After it was emptied, I swished water in it before filling it up again with water and taking a drink. When I turned around I almost spit out all the water in my mouth.

  “I think the point is to drink what’s already inside the can,” Luke Upton said.

  I laughed a little. “Haven’t you heard? All the cool kids dig watered-down poison now.”

  He actually laughed at that, making his face crinkle around those blue eyes. After his laughter subsided, he gave me the I-should-know-you look again. I weighed my options in this moment. Option 1: I could let him out of his misery and tell him who I was. This could lead to an outcome of either excitement or disappointment. In an effort to avoid his possible disappointment in realizing I was the eleven
-year-old neighbor who had had a horribly obvious crush on him throughout our childhood, I went with Option 2: Pretend that I don’t recognize him either.

  “Obviously,” he said. “And to think I was drinking mine like this all the time.”

  I shifted, leaning up against the sink. “So do you go to DCC?” I asked.

  “Starting this semester,” he said. “You?”

  “Considering it,” I said. “Though I don’t know if this is quite extreme enough for me.”

  “Oh don’t worry, I’ve heard Cody’s been known to throw some extreme sober parties too,” Luke said.

  I took a sip of beer-water. “Really?”

  “Nah. I’ve only lived here for a month, and I already know the words ‘Cody’ and ‘sober’ don’t ever belong together,” he said.

  It was my turn to laugh as he ran a nervous hand through his wavy white-blond hair. His muscle flashed as the sleeve of his DCC shirt fell down a bit, and I suddenly felt self-conscious about my outfit choice. His confused look persisted for another second before I changed the subject again.

  “Since you’re the first person at DCC I’ve met so far, give me five reasons to come next year,” I said.

  Luke whistled. “You’re putting me on the spot here!”

  “I need a high dedication level if I’m really considering it,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Well … the classes are good, I guess,” he said, laughing. “Sorry, sorry, that was weak, I know. The kids are pretty cool. Um … the parties are awesome. The food’s decent, and of course, I go here.”

  “Of course.” I smiled. “But you forgot to mention that Moe’s is a block away.”

  He stared at me again. “I saw you there tonight.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, shrugging. “What a coincidence.”

  “Yeah,” he repeated. We stared at each other for a long time before I was interrupted by the thought of drunken Zoe by herself outside.

  “Thanks for the advice,” I said, walking away.

  “Wait,” he said, grabbing my arm. “What’s your name?”

  “I think you already know who I am,” I said, winking. “See you later, Luke.”

  As I turned my back I let out the largest breath of my life. Had I actually been flirty and mysterious with a guy? An extremely hot guy? Maybe DCC gave me a new sort of power over my helplessly awkward fumbling. Or perhaps the fates had shown me the good that my failure could bring. I never thought I’d say it, but Denton Community College seemed perfect.

  FINAL:

  conclusive and allowing no further discussion.

  Getting back into the house was going to be nowhere near as fun as sneaking out. I dropped a mildly intoxicated Zoe off at her house and drove her car back to mine as slowly as possible. I circled my cul-de-sac at least five times before pulling up just outside my driveway. A small light flickered in my kitchen window, warning me that my parents were watching TV in the living room. They’d waited up for me. I took a deep breath, unlocked the car doors, and walked toward my angry parental fate.

  The quiet house creaked under my feet, and I cursed. They would hear me. As if on cue, footsteps grew louder from the kitchen. Mom and Dad emerged from around the corner, both in their pajamas, both fairly expressionless. They motioned for me to sit on the couch in the living room. Dad turned off the TV and stayed standing in front of me. It was subtle, but standing up was a way to show more power over me. He crossed his arms and turned to Mom before he spoke.

  “I think it goes without saying that sneaking out is unacceptable,” Dad said. “Where have you been?”

  “I was at Zoe’s,” I said, picking at my nails. Trying to distract myself with anything to keep from looking at them.

  “You smell like a brewery,” Mom said. “I know Sara would not let you drink like that at her house.”

  “We started at her house and went to someone else’s. I swear, I’m not drunk. Someone spilled his drink on me,” I said.

  “Is this supposed to excuse everything that’s happened tonight?” Mom asked.

  “No, I’m just clarifying one thing so I’m not charged for it later in my sentencing,” I said. As soon as it left my mouth I regretted it. I saw my mom’s hands ball up into frustrated fists. She breathed in deeply through her nose and out her mouth, looking at Dad to take over the conversation.

  “I guess we’re a little confused, Danielle,” Dad said. “You’ve always been honest with us. We taught you to be honest with us.”

  “It’s not that I didn’t want to be honest,” I said. He held up his hand.

  “You let your mother buy all your dorm things, we bought student tickets for you already—how could you let it go this far?” he asked.

  “We will have to get started on damage control tomorrow. It’s going to be challenging, but I can call in to Ohio State in the morning and see about a delayed appeal process. We can change your major, fit the requirements a bit better. I’m sure there’s—”

  “Stop trying to fix things for me,” I said. “I messed up, and I’m going to fix it.”

  “Danielle, my job is to help students get into college. I can’t have my daughter setting an example of failure for the rest of my business.”

  “Karen—” my dad interjected.

  “You realize how serious this is, don’t you, Danielle? This needs to be remedied immediately, and I will see to it that it happens,” she said.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head again.

  “No?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “I’m going to retake the class at DCC this semester, and I’m going to get a job to make up for the lost money,” I said.

  “You would go to DCC just to prove that you don’t need my help?” she asked.

  “I want to fix it on my own. I messed up, and I should do something about it,” I said, my voice rising to a new pitch.

  She stared at me for a long time, and I sensed her mind turning, looking for the best and most cutting comeback. Instead, she looked at my dad and said, “I’ll be in our room,” and turned to leave without looking back. My dad and I sat perfectly still in the living room, waiting to hear her door slam. Once it did, I breathed out a shaking breath and felt tears start to sting my eyes.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do, kid?” Dad asked.

  I nodded but felt more unsure than ever. Was I making the right decision? Should I have let my mom work some of her college psychic magic and get me in through the back door?

  “I know you probably already guessed, but you’re very much grounded. And on Noah-driving duties for the foreseeable future,” he said. “I like that you have a plan and that you’re finally taking some responsibility. I just wish you would have told us. It would have saved your mother and me a lot of heartache.”

  He slinked up to their bedroom as I sat staring at our family picture hanging over the mantel. I wished I could write “this is a lie” underneath all our smiling faces. She kept it there for show, to give some semblance of normalcy throughout her unconventional job. I remembered a time, it had to be almost five years ago, when my mom was being featured on the local news for her success and they had come to interview the family. She told us to keep smiling and let her do the talking. If they asked us a question, we needed to be positive about the business. We couldn’t talk about being banished to our rooms when people were over or being woken up by late-night emergency calls from desperate parents. I hated it most of the time. She started this job to be at home while Noah and I were still in school, but I see less of her than I do of my best friend, who lives fifteen minutes across town.

  The tears I’d managed to hold back for the majority of the night were finally catching up to me. I let them fall into my hands, my legs curled up underneath me on the couch.

  “Dani?” I heard from the top of the stairs. Noah tiptoed down and joined me. He held out an arm for me to rest my head on his shoulder. Even though Noah was only fourteen, he sometimes felt like he was forty. He always knew the right th
ings to say to cheer me up and had this wisdom that I had no clue where it came from.

  “Did Mom tell you about me tarnishing the family name?” I asked.

  “I heard bits and pieces,” he said.

  “I’ve felt so sick about it for so long, Noah. And it makes it one hundred times worse that Claire was the one to call me out on it,” I said.

  He hugged my shoulders tighter. “You’re not the first person to keep secrets from her parents. They’ll get over it. You’ll get over it. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “I don’t think Mom will ever get over it,” I said, another sob rolling through my body.

  “She will. You’re both so stubborn that it might take a while, but she will,” he said. “Besides, it sounds like you have a plan. Mom is always game for a thought-out plan.”

  He leaned down to make me look him in the eyes. “You know it will be okay, right?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  He smiled wide and let his arm fall from around my shoulders.

  “Wait.” I grabbed his chin and pulled his face back to eye level. “Smile again. You have a spinach noodle stuck in your front teeth. Did you even brush your teeth tonight?”

  “I must have forgotten,” he said, picking it out.

  “You are so foul,” I said, smacking his arm.

  “Want a kiss?” he asked.

  “No,” I yelled, running up the stairs. “Get away from me!”

  * * *

  It wasn’t that I was embarrassed about driving the minivan, but our old Jankmobile was always tricky to start. I sat in our driveway for a good three minutes trying to get our POS car a movin’ until the engine came to life. I could barely see out the back from the piles of dorm necessities I was returning.

  Today I decided to get the ball rolling on all my Denton Community College plans. I was going to sign up for classes and apply for whatever jobs they had left. Mom and Dad didn’t even ask me to find a job, but if I was going to be forced to live at home for another semester, I would do whatever it took to stay away for as much time as possible. As I pulled into the department store parking lot, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Zoe.