Destination Unknown

by Amy Clipston

  I’d managed to avoid my former friends, and neither Kristin nor Tiffany had called or texted me. Although I was completely consumed with Taylor, I missed my friends and felt a little lost without them. I still couldn’t figure out who I was or where I belonged at school or at home. My identity crisis was still in full swing, but I was thankful to have Taylor in my life.

  When I reached the house, I steered my Jeep into the driveway and hurried in the back door.

  “I’m home,” I called before grabbing an apple and a bottle of water. I then hurried up the stairs to my room. I dropped my backpack on the floor, pulled my phone from my pocket, and sat at my desk, hoping to find a text from Taylor. He’d told me he had to go straight to work from school, but I’d hoped he’d texted me before he started working. I closed my eyes and tapped myself on the forehead, feeling silly for being so dependent on Taylor’s text messages.

  I placed the phone on my desk and bit into the apple while pulling my homework notebook from my backpack.

  “Whitney?” My mother appeared in the doorway. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Oh, hey, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m a little concerned, dear.” She crossed my room and sat on my bed. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I spoke to Kristin’s mother today.”

  “Oh.” Alarm filled me. “What did you talk about?”

  She studied me. “Why didn’t you tell me you quit cheerleading?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it was important.” I was certain she could see through my lie. I hadn’t told her because I knew she’d never understand. I’d hoped she’d never find out, but I realized the news would eventually get back to her.

  “Whitney, you know this is important. You have to stick to your activities if you want to keep your college acceptances.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you would quit cheerleading. You’ve always loved it.” She pointed toward my shelves filled with gymnastics and cheerleading ribbons, medals, and trophies. “Just look at your awards and all you’ve accomplished since you were a little girl. Why would you give that up?”

  I shrugged. “It’s no big deal, Mom. You know we don’t really have any required activities in the spring. We just cheer on the baseball team from the stands and hang out. It’s just a social thing. Colleges will understand that.”

  Mom stared at me, and I somehow knew what was coming.

  “You’re not telling me the truth, Whitney.” Her tone was angry, reminding me of when my brother had thrown a ball in the house and broken one of her most precious Lladró figurines. “I want the truth, and I want it now.”

  I sat up straighter. “Something tells me you already know the truth, and you’re only testing me to see if I’ll say it out loud.”

  “I do know the truth. You quit cheering because of that boy.”

  “No. That’s Kristin’s version of the truth.”

  “So then, what’s your version?”

  “My version, which is the whole truth, is my so-called friends are pressuring me to end my friendship with Taylor.” My voice was loud and shaky with resentment. “Misty Strickland has it in for me, and she deliberately tried to embarrass me in front of the team during our meeting on Monday. She told everyone Taylor Martinez was my boyfriend, and then the majority of the team weighed in on why I shouldn’t even talk to him. If they can’t accept my friendship with Taylor, then they aren’t my friends.”

  “That’s not true, Whitney. You’ve been best friends with Kristin since first grade. How can you possibly throw that friendship away? What kind of a person does that make you?”

  “Did you hear what I just said? Kristin is one of the girls who put down Taylor. How is she my friend?”

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about keeping your lasting friendships with your girlfriends?” Mom pointed toward a framed photo of Kristin and me taken at a football game last year. We were in our uniforms, holding up our pom-poms and smiling as if life were completely and utterly perfect.

  “Just look how happy you two were last year,” she continued. “If you and Kristin work on your friendship, you’ll be friends the rest of your lives. You know I’ve known Minnie Hancock since grade school, and we still talk all the time. We both dated boys throughout high school and college, but we never let a boy get between us. Just because you think you love that Martinez boy now doesn’t mean you’ll still care about him by the time graduation rolls around. Don’t throw away a lifelong friendship for some boy who means something to you now but may mean nothing to you later.”

  “Are you listening to me, Mom? That’s not my point!” I waved my hands wildly. “I found out Kristin was helping Brett to win me back. A true friend would see Brett isn’t right for me. All Kristin cares about is seeing Brett and me crowned prom king and queen. Everyone says we should be together. Kristin keeps pushing me to go with Brett. I can’t do it, Mom. I just can’t.”

  Mom studied me. “You can’t let that boy ruin your plans, Whitney.”

  “What do you mean? Which boy?”

  “That Martinez boy. He’s not worth your time.”

  “How would you even know if he’s worth my time? You’ve never tried to get to know him.”

  “All I know is he very rudely interrupted our dinner Sunday night,” Mom stated firmly. “That was enough information for me. He has no manners, and I blame his mother.”

  “You’re wrong. His family has more manners and they are more thoughtful than any of the people you’ve ever invited for a dinner party. If you took the time to get to know them, you’d be impressed.”

  Mom twisted her face. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Whitney, but I am tired of that boy poisoning your mind.”

  “He hasn’t poisoned my mind, Mom.” I pointed toward my chest. “This is who I am. I don’t want to be a part of that cheer squad. You need to start respecting me for who I am. I have changed. I realize now what’s important to me, and that’s having friends who respect and understand me, the real me.”

  Mom shook her head. “I won’t allow you to mess up your life. Your father and I are paying for your college, and we expect you to do your best. Dropping out of cheerleading in April of your senior year is not acceptable. You need to go talk to your coach and explain to her that you didn’t mean it when you quit. Even if you have to grovel to get her to take you back.”

  I stood, trying to make a point. “No. I won’t do it.”

  “Yes, you will.” My mother moved in front of me and pointed at me. “Yes, you will go back to cheerleading, or I will take your phone and your car away from you until graduation.”

  “Fine.” I shrugged. “Take my car and my phone, but I won’t do it.”

  “Whitney. You don’t mean this.” She shook her head and reached for me. “What’s happened to my sweet little girl who used to never give your father and me an ounce of trouble?”

  “She’s grown up.” I grabbed my keys and my purse from my desk and rushed out the door while my mother called after me. I just had to get out of that house. I was tired of my mother not listening to me. I had to be free. I needed to be by myself.

  No, I needed Taylor.

  I jumped into my Jeep and drove toward the mall. I knew there would be serious consequences for my storming out of the house, but I couldn’t take it anymore. This was the only way for me to get her attention. I was surprised my mother hadn’t tried to call me, but then I realized I’d left my phone on my desk.

  I held my raging emotions inside as I steered down Main Street and into the mall parking lot. I pulled into a space near the front and then crossed to the mall entrance.

  I made my way to the bookstore, where I spotted Taylor ringing up a customer at the register. I stood near the entrance and watched him while he worked. He looked handsome in his blue shirt and khakis. He smiled as he took the customer’s money.

  I wondered if Taylor had any idea how good looking he was. Of c
ourse, I knew the answer: Taylor had no idea how his looks and demeanor affected me or any other girl, which was one of the main reasons why he was more attractive than Brett. Brett was good looking, but he knew it and thought he was the greatest thing since the invention of the iPhone. On the other hand, Taylor was humble and unassuming, and humility was much more appealing than conceit. I wondered why my mother couldn’t see my point of view.

  When the bookstore manager came toward me, I quickly moved to a stack of bargain books in the middle of the store to look busy. I was pretending to be interested in an autobiography written by an actress I’d never heard of when I felt a hand touch my arm.

  I heard Taylor’s voice behind me. “I think the book you’re looking for is back by the science fiction section.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Taylor, and he winked at me. “Oh, right,” I said. “I was looking for that new science fiction book by that author.”

  “Right.” He nodded slowly. “Blake Bossert.”

  “Of course.” I snapped my fingers for effect, hoping Taylor’s boss would buy it.

  “Follow me, miss.” Taylor made a sweeping gesture toward the middle aisle, and I admired his acting ability. I wondered why he never auditioned for drama club.

  Once we moved past the customer-service counter, Taylor reached back and took my hand in his. We walked all the way to the back of the store, and he pulled me close to him.

  “It’s so good to see you.” His voice was soft and full of emotion. “How are you?” He touched my cheek with his free hand. “You look upset.”

  “I just had the worst argument with my mom.” Tears filled my eyes. “I stormed out on her. I’ve never done that before.”

  He turned toward a door that said employees only. “Want to go in there?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just had to see you.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  While holding his hands, I explained my argument with my mother, leaving out her insults about Taylor and his family. I tried my best not to cry, but my shaky voice gave away my irritation and anger. “I’m so tired of her running my life, Taylor. I just want to be my own person. Why can’t she understand I’m not going to follow the same path she did?”

  Taylor shook his head, his eyes full of sympathy. “I know your mom drives you crazy, but she’s still your mom. Maybe you should finish out the year in cheerleading but not participate in all of the activities.”

  “Honestly, it’s pointless. All they’re going to do is cheer on the baseball players from the stands.”

  He pursed his lips. “Do you think the baseball players are hot?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Good. Then I’m okay with you cheering for them.”

  “Taylor, I don’t want to do it. I just want to graduate and move out.” I cupped my hand to my forehead. “Why does my mom have to make my life so difficult?”

  “That’s what parents do. They drive you nuts and then send you to college.” He pulled me closer. “My mom makes me crazy too sometimes, but I know she loves me.”

  “I just don’t want to be a cliché anymore. I don’t want to be Whitney Richards, perfect student and snobby cheerleader. I just want to be Whitney.”

  “You are Whitney. And you never were snobby.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what was it you said to me during the first tutoring session? You said I hadn’t ever noticed you because you don’t wear a varsity football jacket.”

  “I was wrong about you. You weren’t the spoiled rich girl I thought you were.” He dipped his face toward mine, and I closed my eyes, waiting for his lips.

  A man cleared his throat loudly, and Taylor and I immediately jumped away from each other. I thought I might drown in my embarrassment when I spotted Taylor’s manager studying us from the end of the aisle.

  “Oh, hey, Kevin,” Taylor said as if he hadn’t just interrupted our private moment.

  Kevin drummed his fingers on the bookshelf. “You need to say good-bye to your girlfriend and get back to work, Taylor.”

  “Yes, sir.” Taylor nodded. “We were just saying good-bye.”

  Kevin disappeared around the corner.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “It’s fine.” Taylor waved off the worry. “Kevin likes me.”

  “If he puts you on probation or anything, just blame it on me.”

  “No, I won’t.” He touched my hand. “I promise I’ll call you later.”

  “I probably am going to lose my phone and all of my privileges now. I may not be able to call you back.”

  “Your mom can’t take school away from you, so she can’t stop you from seeing me during the week.” He kissed the top of my head. “Just stay calm when you get home. Tell her you’re sorry for storming out and then listen to her. You don’t have to agree with her, but you have to respect her.”

  “I know.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to go home.”

  “You have to, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “Tú me gusta.”

  “I like you too. I better go.” I followed him toward the front of the store.

  When we reached the customer-service counter, he slipped behind it and began ringing up a waiting customer. I glanced back at him once and found him watching me. With a little wave, I headed toward the mall exit.

  I found both of my parents waiting for me at the kitchen table, and I wondered if my mother had called my father at work, told him it was an emergency, and instructed him to come home immediately.

  “Where have you been, young lady?” My mother spat the words at me.

  “I needed to cool down.” I dropped my keys and purse on the counter and then faced them, trying to follow Taylor’s advice and stay calm. “I’m sorry for storming out, Mom. I just needed to get away to collect my thoughts.”

  She lifted her chin while scowling. “Did you go to see that boy?”

  I felt anger rise anew inside me. “I went to see Taylor. His name is Taylor, Mom.”

  “Whitney,” my dad began, “please sit down.”

  I sank into the chair across from my parents and braced myself for a lecture on how terrible and disrespectful I was. I wished Taylor were sitting beside me and holding my hand, but I knew I had to face this alone.

  Dad folded his hands on the table. “Whitney, your mother is upset about your behavior. You’ve been disrespectful to her.”

  “Disrespectful?” I looked from one to the other. “If you think I’ve been disrespectful, it’s because Mom won’t listen to me.”

  “I’ve been trying to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me either,” Mom said with a shake of her head. “I only want what’s best for you, Whitney, but you treat me like a dictator.”

  “You act like a dictator,” I said with my voice quavering. “I don’t think you realize how much you’ve been pushing me away.”

  “All right.” Dad held up his hands like a referee trying to stop a fight from breaking out on a ball field. “Let’s calm down and discuss this like adults.” He looked at me. “Whitney, I know you’ve been frustrated, and I’ve tried to ask your mother to back off a bit with you. I know you have a lot on your shoulders. I remember the stress of senior year. It’s a fun time, but you also have a lot depending on your academic achievements. You worry about how much life is going to change after graduation.”

  “That’s true.” I nodded.

  “But you need to keep in mind this is a stressful time for us as well. Our baby is going to graduate and move on with her life.” Dad reached for my hand. “You’ll always be our baby no matter how old you are.”

  “That’s right,” Mom chimed in. “I feel the same way. I don’t think you realize how emotional it is for us to see you grow up. It seems like only yesterday you were going to kindergarten for the first time.”

  My eyes filled with tears.

  Mom faced Dad. “Ho
wever, the issues we have to deal with are that Whitney quit cheerleading, and it’s going to reflect badly on her high school transcripts. I think she needs to talk to Coach Lori and get back onto the team, preferably as the cheer captain. The other issue is Whitney’s punishment for her behavior earlier.”

  Dad studied me for a moment. “Why did you quit cheerleading?”

  “I don’t feel like a part of the group anymore.” I tried to act as if it were no big deal, even though the idea of losing my best friends hurt my heart. “Besides, there aren’t any official events left for the year, other than attending baseball games. I’d rather concentrate on my studies and hang out with my real friends.”

  “She’s talking about Taylor Martinez,” Mom chimed in again. “She’s abandoning her friends for that boy.”

  My shoulders stiffened, and I gritted my teeth when she called him “that boy” again. “I’m tired of Mom running my life. I want to be my own person and have the right to choose my own friends.”

  “She does have a point, Darlene,” Dad said. “You have to trust her intuition about her friends and let her make her own decisions when it comes to her personal life.”

  “I only want what’s best for her, Chuck.” Mom’s expression remained stern. “I’m looking out for her well-being. She and Logan have so much more than Brad and I ever had when we were growing up. I was the first in my immediate family to go to college. I don’t want Whitney to miss out on that opportunity by making the wrong choices.”

  Dad looked between us before his eyes settled on Mom. “I know you want what’s best for our children. It was a huge accomplishment when you went to college, and I understand you want Whitney and Logan to follow the same path. However, I think you need to back off a bit, Darlene. Let Whitney choose her friends. She’s a really smart young lady, and she’ll do great at college. Just give her a chance to prove herself to you.”