The Big F

by Maggie Ann Martin

  “What’s going on?” I asked. His hands were gripped into tight fists at his side, and his breath was shallow. I’d never seen this side of him either.

  “You should probably just leave me out here,” he said.

  “I’m worried about you,” I said.

  He laughed. “Since when?”

  “Well that’s not fair,” I said. “Are you drunk?”

  “There are a lot of things in life that aren’t fair, Danielle,” he said. “Now why don’t you go back inside and find Luke. It’ll make everyone much happier in this situation.”

  I stepped closer to him. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

  I watched his eyes dart back and forth, trying to find the words. Candid was never a word that I would assign to Porter Kohl, but maybe the alcohol would finally let some truth spill out of his mouth.

  “How come you never told me why you were really at DCC?” he asked.

  “It never came up in conversation,” I said, quoting him from earlier. “How come you never told me that you brought me home that night? And why the hell would you bring it up in a game like that? Give me an honest answer, not a bullshit one.”

  He swayed a bit while he found the right words. “It did come up in conversation. I asked you about DCC, and you didn’t tell me. I thought you trusted me enough to be honest with me.”

  I laughed. “That’s a funny sentence coming from you. I don’t know anything about you—about your life in Valley View, about your family—nothing!”

  “I didn’t tell you about my life there because it was awful. I hated it. I hate my dad, I can’t take care of my mom anymore, and it’s just fucking depressing to chitchat about,” he said.

  “Porter—” I started.

  “I didn’t tell you about the house party night because I didn’t want to embarrass you. You were…”

  “Obnoxious? God, I know I had to have said something bad,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I was going to say affectionate.”

  “So obnoxious. Great,” I said. “I’m assuming you wrote all about it in your notebook. Do I get to read the ‘Danielle’s Great Drunken Adventure’ chapter?”

  “Why are we fighting right now?” he asked.

  “Because,” I started. “Because you keep looking at me.”

  “Looking at you?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “Looking at me in ways that friends probably shouldn’t look at other friends.”

  “I think you’re interpreting things a little bit wrong,” he said. “We are friends. Just friends.”

  “You know what?” I snatched the flimsy notebook out of his hands, and he tried to smack it out of mine. I ran back so I was just out of reach, and he stumbled hard before giving up. “I think before you can judge people in your little observation notebook you have to take a careful look at yourself first. You walk around like you’re high and mighty and a fucking philosopher when you don’t know anything either,” I said.

  He ran up and was eye to eye with me, but I still gripped the notebook. I held it up higher, threatening to throw it across the woods.

  “Why can’t you just admit what’s going on so we can get past it?” I asked.

  He grabbed my shaking wrist, still holding the notebook, and my breath became shallow. We locked eyes for a few seconds, and I leaned toward him. His breath mixed with mine, and the same electricity that came through on the movie set zipped through me.

  “Are you sure you want to get past it?” he asked before snatching the notebook back.

  I walked away, back toward the cabin. I hoped I never had to look at Porter Kohl again. I’d do whatever it took to never feel this mad and upset again. I heard his footsteps speeding up and catching mine. He grabbed my arm, and I whipped around.

  “Luke isn’t right for you,” he said. His glossy eyes looked even more wild in that moment.

  “Oh, what? And you are?” I asked.

  He let go of my arm, and I walked back toward the house. “Isn’t this clear enough?” Porter asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re very drunk. I know you will regret everything you’re saying in the morning.”

  “But I won’t,” he said, trying to catch up to me.

  “Porter, go to bed. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” I said, feeling tears running down my face.

  FEVER:

  a rise of body temperature above the normal. A state of heightened or intense emotion or activity.

  To say that night ended poorly was an understatement. Porter and Emilie refused to talk, and I had no stomach to face to him either. I refused to tell Luke what had happened because it would only upset him. Basically Liv, Luke, and I slept in a tent with the crying Emilie while Porter camped out inside on his own, refusing to speak to any of us. He wouldn’t even talk to Luke. We were packing up the rest of our things when Luke pulled me off to the side.

  “What did he say to you last night?” Luke asked for the twentieth time.

  “I already told you,” I said. “He was just drunk and said something rude to Emilie that he didn’t mean. He felt bad about it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling my gut twist the way it did when I lied.

  “Why won’t he talk to you?” Luke asked again. “Seriously, Danielle, if he said something awful to you—”

  “I already said no! I don’t know what more you want me to say!” I actually yelled. I held my hand over my mouth and felt my face getting hot. “I’m sorry—”

  He started to walk away. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. Get your stuff ready.” Family events are the worst. I managed to alienate everyone who was ever nice to me in a brief two-day outing.

  I gave Olivia the same twenty-minute heads-up, and she smiled at me. I’m glad at least we had patched up our differences. Carrie and Craig Upton had left earlier that morning to catch a plane and left Olivia the car so she could visit one of her friends she’d made over summer camp who lived in Iowa. She was staying an extra day to help Uncle Henry organize things a bit before heading off, so these were the last moments that we’d see each other for a while.

  “So this friend…,” I said.

  “She’s more than a friend,” she said quietly. “Mom and Dad know, but I’m working on telling the rest. You saw how seriously Ryan and Matt took it the other night.”

  “They will take it seriously. And they won’t care—they love you. You were born into the most loving family I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” I said.

  “I do,” she replied. “I can’t believe we got to see each other again after all these years. I feel like our lives aren’t done being connected.”

  Liv, always so adamant about destiny and fate. She was the one who convinced me that the cosmos sometimes worked in our favor. I would be lucky to have that influence on my life for the rest of it.

  “I feel like that too,” I said.

  “Text me all the time,” she said. “Good, bad, ugly, I want to know every detail.”

  “I will,” I said. We hugged each other for a long time, and I whispered loud enough for only her to hear, “You were right. I will be careful.”

  She nodded, and Emilie emerged out of the bathroom, giving both of us apologetic looks. It was the first time that I felt bad for Emilie. No matter what flirtatious front she put up, she obviously had her feelings hurt last night. Luke came out of the room down the hall carrying my bag and his, taking them out to the car.

  “It’ll be fine with him,” Olivia said. And then Porter showed up from God knows where, and we all went quiet. He didn’t make eye contact with any of us and made his way to the car without a word. This would be a fun five-hour car ride.

  Porter was already sitting in the passenger seat when we made it outside, and Emilie and I gladly took the back. Olivia and Uncle Henry waved at us from the front porch as we pulled away from the beautiful cabin. The music was turned on almos
t immediately, and I didn’t mind. Emilie texted someone furiously, and Luke tapped his fingers idly on the steering wheel to the sound of the music. Porter stared outside. I hoped he was hungover to make the ride as miserable as possible for him.

  About two hours in, Emilie was the first to announce her need for a bathroom break. Luke pulled into a gas station to fill up, and I followed Emilie inside to get some snacks. I trailed down the candy aisle looking for something wonderfully high in sugar and carbs to distract me. I decided on something with peanut butter and chocolate, because you can’t go wrong with that combination. I couldn’t have wanted to be left alone more in any moment. So Porter naturally sensed that vibe and came over.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said.

  I kept walking down the aisle until I got to the peanuts, picking up a package. “I don’t know why you’re apologizing to me, you should be talking to Emilie.”

  “I don’t regret what I said to Emilie,” he said.

  I scoffed and walked faster down the second aisle of Indiana mugs and key chains. He followed behind me. I stopped abruptly, and he smacked into my back. “Please stop following me.”

  “Please, Danielle,” he said. The sincerity was back in his eyes, and I finally listened. “Last night I was drunk. I said things I shouldn’t have, things that hurt you, which was never my intention. I also said some things that could hurt Luke … I-I’m not sure how to handle that right now—”

  “We aren’t going to say anything about it,” I said. “I told him you were upset about something you said to Emilie and that’s it. That’s all that was said. End of that story. Now let’s go back in the car and talk to Luke so he doesn’t feel angry about something he shouldn’t.”

  He looked like he was going to say something else but just nodded. I bought my various peanut products and headed back into the car, sliding in next to Emilie, who had put her headphones in and bought a neck pillow. I figured she was pretending to be asleep because it was easier than being awake at this point, and I was the first one to really break the silence.

  “That was a nice trip, Luke. It was great of Uncle Henry to have all of us over,” I said.

  Luke looked surprised as he glanced back at me. “I thought so too.”

  Emilie and I occasionally made eye contact from the back, and her previous looks of understanding had vanished since I started talking to Porter again. I had to shake it off if only to keep a small shred of sanity for the rest of the trip. As we blasted some major rock songs out the windows we could almost act like things were normal again, like there were no confessions in the woods last night. That there was no need for the ulcer of guilt forming in my gut that grew every time Luke smiled at me. Only two more hours. Then I’d be planted in front of the TV watching American Horror Story reruns with Zoe. Our communication had been minimal during the trip, but she knew something was up. Her opinion would probably be the most knowledgeable—she was the only one of my friends who actually knew Luke and Porter and had witnessed us in social settings before. She’d probably think it was romantic. I couldn’t think that way.

  When Luke finally pulled into my driveway I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy to see my brother standing in the window waiting for me. He sauntered out trying to act cool, but we were both excited to see each other again.

  “Did you guys have fun?” he asked.

  I took my bag from Luke and strapped it around my shoulder. “So much fun,” I said. “But it’s good to be home.”

  Luke’s smile flickered a little before kissing the side of my head. “I’ll call you later.”

  Noah helped me lug my things inside, and I was greeted by my very tired father on the couch. The weekends were his time to take a break, and I worried that he was working too hard lately because of the amount of time it took him to recuperate. Noah sat next to him, and they both laughed as their favorite cartoons played. These were the moments that I was happy to be home for, the times when everyone was at peace even if they were watching mindless cartoons.

  * * *

  Seeing as Zoe and I had met just a few times in the past few months to have a true girls’ night, we decided that tonight was the night—no exceptions. We had it all planned, a nice feast out at Moe’s, reruns galore, and then we’d pass out on Zoe’s couch. I got control of the Jankmobile tonight, and I clunked out of the driveway and to Zoe’s.

  Her little sister, Alyssa, answered the door and smiled at me. I mean, I’d take a smile over everything she’s been giving to Zoe lately. I went down the hall and to her burnt-orange room. Zoe had such bold taste that only worked for her. If anyone else tried to pull off the Zoe Cabot style, it would just look silly.

  “I feel like I haven’t seen your face in ages,” she said, standing up and giving me a hug.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a shitty friend lately,” I said.

  “Girl, you’ve had a lot to handle. Don’t be sorry,” she said. Zoe put on her jacket and grabbed her purse as we made our way back out to the Jankmobile.

  “Okay, so you’re going to have to tell me everything about the trip,” she said.

  “It was pretty fun. Olivia surprised me by being at Luke’s the night before we left, and it was amazing being able to catch up with her. It was just like old times,” I said.

  “Don’t get too comfortable with her. I’m still reigning best friend and not looking for any usurpers,” she said.

  I laughed. “You’re always my number one, babe.”

  The parking lot at Moe’s was surprisingly crowded for a Sunday night, but I could see through the window that our favorite booth was still open. Our very favorite waitress, Laurie, promptly brought us a blueberry muffin to split while we waited for our food. I asked Zoe a little bit about how things with her sister were going and if she’d sold any of her new creations online yet. She’d actually made around two hundred dollars just in her custom buttons.

  “So, is business still booming since the last time we chatted?” I asked.

  “Since the last time I texted you saying that I’m making hella money? Things have only been getting better,” she said.

  “That’s amazing,” I replied. “And your family has been cool with all of it?”

  “Mom is really supportive. She’s been sending me these links to internships in LA and New York that offer scholarships. This summer could really be my shot to do something great,” she said.

  “You will get accepted somewhere. Anyone would be so lucky to have you intern for them,” I said, tapping the tip of my shoe onto hers. Zoe picked off a blueberry and popped it in her mouth, a smile creeping onto her face.

  “So, were you able to sneak away with Luke at all?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Not really,” I said. “His family was around at most times.”

  “Well that’s unfortunate,” Zoe said. “Who wants to go camping if you don’t get at least a little action?”

  My mind flashed to Porter grabbing my wrist, his face inches from mine in the woods. I touched my wrist, remembering the feeling.

  “I know that look. Where are you zoning out to?” she asked.

  I weighed my options in telling her everything. I might receive the wrath of Zoe, or she might be heavily Team Porter. It was a tossup what her response might be. Taking a deep breath, I decided to tell her everything.

  “Please don’t be mad at me, but I haven’t been completely honest,” I said.

  She sat back in her seat, taking a sip of her Diet Coke and bracing herself for the newest Danielle bombshell.

  “You know how Porter and I got pulled away at Noah’s movie set? And I said we just walked in the background of a scene together?” I asked.

  Zoe nodded profusely, urging me to go on.

  “Well, we actually kissed. For the scene! Not just for fun,” I said.

  She tilted her head, as if she was calculating her response. “Why didn’t you say anything if it wasn’t a big deal? If it was just acting?”

  �
�It … I’m not sure. I haven’t been thinking straight since then,” I said.

  “Do you still want to date Luke?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said. “I’ve wanted to date him since I was eleven years old.”

  “I don’t know, Danielle, but whenever I talk to you it’s Porter this and Porter that, and Luke is almost an afterthought. To be honest, I don’t even understand why you’re still with Luke,” she said.

  “Luke is a good guy. A great guy. We … well, you know. We’re kind of serious,” I said.

  “Are you happy with Luke?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Then you have to stop. I don’t know what it is about you being around him, but if you want to be with Luke and be fair to Luke, you have to stop with the Porter thing, capiche?”

  “Capiche-iest capiche,” I said. “I’m embarrassed that we even had to talk about this. You know how much I like Luke.”

  She smiled devilishly. “Yes, I know every detail in that department. You’re better than 50 Shades of Grey.”

  “Zoe!” I whisper-yelled, turning bright red.

  “Oh, don’t choose now to be embarrassed, please. You know I have to live vicariously through you, so let’s just let it happen.”

  “You know if someone was listening in they’d probably find that very creepy,” I said.

  “We’ve already established that creepy is, in fact, my middle name,” she said. This was the Zoe I missed spending time with. This was the part of my life that I would work hard to keep intact, no matter how hectic the rest got.

  * * *

  In the span of two weeks I got back into my regular routine—going to class during the day and working at the bookstore at night. I was given more hours by Misty, and so my nights of homework were usually spent at the cash wrap. I was still going over the notes for Ameera’s city council presentation. She wanted me to talk on behalf of the program, something I was certainly dreading, but something I knew was necessary.

  Porter and I had securely pushed the “are you sure you want to get past it” incident under the rug, barely saying more than a few words to each other. Zoe and I had talked through the Luke/Porter situation at length and she boiled it down to one thing: it’s impossible for boys and girls to be friends. She deemed it all a little crush that would fizzle out—but in the meantime I should probably avoid him as much as possible.