Rotten Apple

by Rebecca Eckler

  Brooklyn, unlike Happy, started to laugh. She glanced at her friends. “I’m sorry. But Hopper is kind of funny,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth. “Sorry!”

  Thankfully, Hopper had moved on, to torture some other students with what he considered his “sense of humor.” It was amazing what you could get away with when you were so good-looking. But not as good-looking as Zen, Apple thought, sneaking a glance at Zen, who was reading a car magazine.

  “So, now that that moron is gone, tell me, did you find out what the shows are this week?” Happy whispered to Apple. “And how I get on the show?”

  “Um, yeah. I said I would, and I did. You owe me that pair of jeans now! And you’d better give them to me soon. Okay, what were they again? There’s one on ‘Torn between Two Lovers,’ um, and ‘Men Who Mooch Off Their Women’ … oh yeah, and ‘Sperm Bandits.’”

  “Oh my God. These shows sound so amazing! I can’t wait!” said Happy, who then glanced over at Apple. “Oh, sorry, Apple. I mean, they just sound interesting, that’s all.”

  “Really? They sound kind of like variations on the same themes Dr. Bee Bee Berg has been rehashing for the past eight years,” Apple said.

  Apple had spent enough time overhearing Guy and her mother discuss possible show ideas over the years that she could practically have scheduled a season of shows herself, she thought. She knew that having a broken heart bites, and that mending a broken wrist takes less time then mending a broken heart. She had learned that there seemed to be seriously millions of smart, accomplished women who were incredibly stupid when it came to choosing men. She had learned that people really do just suddenly fall out of love. Most of all, she had learned that no matter what horrific events are happening in the world—like bombs going off in major cities, children being kidnapped, tourists being murdered—no one cared more about anything than they did about their own love lives, or lack of them. Which was why Queen of Hearts with Dr. Bee Bee Berg was always the top-rated show in its time slot and her books were best-sellers.

  “So how do I get on?” Happy asked, grabbing both of Apple’s hands excitedly.

  “Well, for that, my friend, you have to get in Guy’s good books,” Apple explained. “He’s in charge of the guests. People send him e-mails and pitch him show ideas. If he likes them, then it’s as simple as that.”

  “Hmm,” Happy said. “Interesting. I had no idea it was Guy who did that. I guess I’ll just have to hang out at your place more often to suck up to him, or start composing a really good show idea.”

  As Apple half-listened to Happy go on about how excited she was to watch her mother’s show after school, she tried to eavesdrop on the conversation that Zen was having with Hopper, who had come back to the stairs. They were sitting two steps above Happy and Apple. It was time to make a move. Apple’s mouth suddenly felt very dry, as if she had been in the desert for days.

  “Hey, Zen,” Apple started, looking up. “How are you today?”

  She couldn’t believe she’d just done that. She felt so proud starting up a conversation with her crush. She even tried to look him in the eyes.

  “Oh, hey, Apple,” Zen answered. “So I guess you recognize me today?”

  Apple felt her face starting to turn red. “Yes, of course I recognize you. I guess I was just a little surprised to see you yesterday. And I was tired, too.”

  Okay, this was good, thought Apple. We’re talking. It’s all about baby steps. Zen looked as sweet as he had the day before, Apple thought. His loosely curled blond hair was now almost shoulder-length, and he looked as hot as the characters on Minors in Malibu. He looked yummy.

  “Don’t worry, Apple. I didn’t take it personally,” Zen said, giving her that half-smile. That dimple, thought Apple, is going to be the death of me.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Happy asked.

  “Oh, nothing. So, Zen, how was the Land Down Under really?” Apple asked him, moving on. “It must be so weird to be back here after so much time.”

  “Well, I went surfing almost every day, like I said. That was pretty cool,” Zen said.

  “Fun!” Apple said, and then her mind went blank.

  Think, Apple, think. Think of something to say to him, on the same subject. Just say anything to keep up this conversation. Do not have a repeat of yesterday.

  “Well, I like to swim,” Apple said. When she thought about surfing, she thought about water. And when she thought about water, she thought about swimming. And that was it! God, she was lame.

  Just then, thank God, the first bell rang. There was a mad rush of students gathering their bags and notebooks to head to the first class of the new semester.

  Okay, that didn’t go exactly as planned, Apple thought, as she stood up and looked at her timetable. That was far from an easy-breezy conversation. And does an actual conversation have to last more than twenty seconds? But the day is still young. There should be plenty more opportunity to cozy up to Zen.

  “Come on, Apple. We both have math right now. Let’s go,” Happy said, grabbing her arm and leading her away.

  “Um, I guess I’ll see you later, Zen?” Apple called out.

  “Sure, Apple. See you later,” Zen said.

  Happy and Apple walked down the hallway to their class, Happy still holding onto Apple’s arm.

  “Apple, did you notice anything different about Zen?” Happy asked.

  “Different? What do you mean?” asked Apple, pretending she had no clue what Happy was getting at but feeling herself, again, turning pink at the very sound of his name.

  “Oh my God. Are you blind? He looks amazing! I never noticed how good-looking he was. Who knew? You get some contact lenses and a surfer body and a tan, and, poof, six months later you’re hot. Man, he’s even hotter than that lifeguard,” Happy said.

  “I don’t know,” Apple answered. They walked into the classroom and took seats next to each other. “I mean, I thought he looked kind of cute before, with his glasses. They made him look smart.”

  “Smart, schmart. Zen is hotter now than Hopper. I think he may even have a better body,” Happy said dreamily.

  Apple couldn’t help but think about how she had only a few more hours to talk to Zen today. She had only a few more hours to get Plan Z into action.

  And she couldn’t believe how slowly her classes were going by. Finally, the lunchtime bell went off. Apple felt her stomach lurch. She wasn’t sure if it was hunger pangs. She knew the knot in her stomach probably had more to do with the thought of trying to talk to Zen again. I am just so bad at this, she thought.

  She headed to the cafeteria. You are the daughter of Dr. Bee Bee Berg, thought Apple. For God’s sake, you can do this. You know what to do. You read the damn book!

  “Hey, Brooklyn,” Apple said to her friend, who was opening a plastic container full of mung beans. Brooklyn didn’t eat anything that had once had a face. She always had some sort of Tupperware container full of organic healthy fare, usually some sort of bean salad, which meant her lunches often smelled like feet. “Where’s Happy?”

  “She just went to the washroom. She’ll be back in a sec. Doesn’t being back at school suck? It’s almost like we didn’t have a break at all,” Brooklyn moaned, putting aside her smelly lunch and lying back dramatically on the bench.

  “I know. I feel all tense again,” Apple admitted, not exactly telling the truth about why she was tense. “God, how can you eat that stuff?” she asked Brooklyn with a hint of disgust, and then moved the beans a little farther away from her.

  “I don’t know. I like it. It’s good for you. Why are you so tense?” Brooklyn asked. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Apple answered.

  “You should really think about taking up yoga,” Brooklyn advised her friend. “It’s the only thing that puts my body and mind at peace. Sometimes you just need to connect your mind and your heart and all will be good.”

  But Apple wasn’t listening. Zen had walked into the cafeteria and was about
to walk by their table. Now is your chance, Apple, she thought.

  “Hey, Zen,” Apple called out as he came closer.

  “Oh, hi, Apple. Hi, Brooklyn,” Zen said.

  “Do you want to sit with us?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Yes, there’s room here,” Apple added. Or she thought she did. She wasn’t sure if the words had come out at all.

  “Oh, I can’t. I promised Hopper I’d meet him out back and shoot some hoops with him.”

  “Oh, you like basketball?” Apple asked, remembering the tip to try to keep him talking about something he was interested in.

  “Yeah, sure. I’m addicted to basketball.”

  “I like basketball too,” Apple said.

  She ignored Brooklyn, but she saw her out of the corner of her eye, looking at her as if she had gone mad. Brooklyn knew she hated all sports.

  “Really. Who’s your favorite team?” Zen asked.

  “Um, the guys who wear the green jerseys?” Apple said. There must be a team with green jerseys, Apple prayed.

  “Oh, those guys,” laughed Zen. “Yeah, they’re my favorite team too. Well, I’d better go. Hopper is waiting for me. See you guys later.”

  “Say ‘hi’ to Hopper for me,” Brooklyn called out.

  Apple watched as Zen walked off. She felt stupid and deflated. Maybe she should have been reading her mother’s other book, Mistakes Not to Make, by the Queen of Hearts.

  “Have you noticed how good Zen looks?” Brooklyn asked sincerely. “It’s like he’s a whole new person. Did he get plastic surgery or something?” Not you too, Apple groaned inwardly.

  “Sure, Brooklyn. How many fifteen-year-old boys do you know who get plastic surgery?” Apple scoffed.

  “Who got plastic surgery?” Happy asked, sitting down beside them.

  “I was just saying to Apple that I think Zen got plastic surgery or something. He looks so good,” Brooklyn said.

  “I know!” Happy exclaimed. “I was just saying that this morning. I think he’s as good-looking as Hopper now.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” Brooklyn responded, and her friends looked at her. “Hey! Hopper will always be a walking Calvin Klein underwear ad. Everyone knows that! So don’t look at me like that. But Zen is definitely in the game now, I’d say. Don’t you think so, Apple?” Brooklyn asked.

  “I guess so,” Apple said, thinking, I absolutely freaking think so.

  “So are we coming over to your house after school today, Apple, to watch Queen of Hearts? Is it the Sperm Bandit show?” Happy asked, mercifully changing the subject.

  “I’m not sure. I think it may be the Torn between Two Lovers show,” said Apple.

  “Whatever. I can’t wait to watch whatever it is,” said Happy.

  “Why do we have to go to my house?” Apple asked. “Why can’t we go to yours, or Brooklyn’s?”

  “You want to come to my house? My house?” Brooklyn asked. “With the Helicopter hovering around, making sure we don’t spill anything, telling us that we should be spending our time doing homework instead of watching trashy television? I don’t think so!”

  “The Helicopter thinks my mother’s show is trashy?” Apple asked, perking up.

  “Don’t get too excited, Apple. The Helicopter thinks every show on television is trashy. She even thinks the news is trashy.”

  “Well, we can’t go to my house,” Happy said. “My sister will be there. And you know what Sailor is like. She’s a pain in the ass and will probably be blasting her music or talking on the phone nonstop. Her mere presence will annoy us, trust me. Plus, no one will be home at your house, Apple. We’re going to your house,” she decided. “Besides, Guy might be there, and I need him to see I’m television-worthy.”

  “Well, I don’t think Guy will be there,” Apple said, as the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. “He’ll be at the show. But Aunt Hazel might be there. You never know.”

  “Oh, I love Aunt Hazel!” Happy cried. “She’s just as much a character as Guy. God, Apple, your house is always so exciting. It’s fantastic.”

  If only Happy really knew what went on, thought Apple.

  “Fine, we’ll go to my house,” Apple said. “But I can’t promise that I’m going to watch the show with you.”

  “Oh, you know you will,” Happy called out cheerfully.

  After her last class, Apple headed to the front doors to meet up with Brooklyn and Happy.

  Except it was not Brooklyn and Happy who were at the front doors. It was Happy and Zen, who were talking animatedly about something. Apple stopped dead before she got there, and then watched them laughing. She wondered what they were laughing about and immediately felt left out. She was shocked to find herself feeling this way. She hadn’t even managed to get more than two sentences out of Zen today, let alone make him laugh like that. Apple felt sick to her stomach. Why couldn’t she be more like Happy? Happy may idolize her mother, but Apple idolized Happy. Happy made everything she did seem effortless.

  Apple took a deep breath and walked up to them. “Hey, guys,” she said. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “There you are!” said Happy. “I thought you were going to bail. Zen was just telling me this hilarious story about the surfing lessons he took in Australia with a former champion.” Happy turned her attention fully back to Zen. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf.”

  “You know,” Zen said, speaking directly to Happy, “it’s not as hard as you think. I bet you’d be pretty good at it.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to put it on my list of 101 Things I Must Do Before I Die,” Happy laughed, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder and sticking her chest out a little.

  “Yeah, I’d like to try surfing too,” Apple said, trying to get into the conversation. She felt like a third wheel. She felt jealous, too. But why should she be feeling jealous? They were just talking.

  “You should too,” said Zen, not even glancing at Apple.

  “I should,” said Apple. And there was an uncomfortable silence. Happy and Zen were just staring at each other.

  “Happy, we should go, if you want to make it to my house in time,” Apple finally said.

  “In time for what?” Zen asked. It bothered Apple that Zen was still looking only at Happy when he asked her that.

  “Oh—we’re going to Apple’s house to watch her mother’s show,” Happy said.

  “Ah, The Queen of Hearts with Dr. Bee Bee Berg. A must-not-miss, right?” Zen asked.

  “Right!” said Happy excitedly. “I worship her! Do you watch it?”

  “Can’t say that I do,” Zen answered. “Sorry, Apple.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t care less,” Apple said, trying to sound cool. “Where’s Brooklyn?” she asked Happy.

  “She bailed. She called to tell her mother she was going to your house, and her mother forced her to come home and help her grocery shop,” Happy said, with a roll of her eyes.

  “Well, we’d better go, Happy, if you don’t want to miss the show,” Apple said, trying to move things along.

  “See you tomorrow, Zen? You’ll have to tell me more about surfing.” Happy flashed her perfect smile and wrapped her long blond hair around her fingers.

  “Sure thing, Happy. Can’t wait. See you tomorrow,” Zen said, waving goodbye.

  Hello? I’m standing right here, thought Apple, as Zen walked away. She made a mental note to search for “surfing” and “basketball” on the Internet later that night, so she too could have something to talk about with Zen. If Happy could do it, so could she. Plan Z wasn’t dead yet.

  pple and Happy plopped themselves on the couch at Apple’s house, sinking into the overstuffed pillows and putting their feet up on the coffee table. Happy grabbed the remote control and clicked the big flat-screen television on, just as the theme song of Queen of Hearts with Dr. Bee Bee Berg began. She hummed along.

  “I can’t believe you’re making me watch this,” Apple muttered, slouching deeper into the couch.r />
  “Hey, no one is holding a gun to your head. Why are you in such a bad mood, anyway?” asked Happy.

  “I guess just being back at school and everything. I’m just tired,” Apple explained. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m cranky.”

  Apple didn’t want to admit that she was a little mad at her friend. Not that she wanted to be. Not that she even knew why exactly she was angry.

  “I thought you couldn’t wait for break to end so your mother would get back to work and you could see us again. And now here we are, watching her working. You should be thrilled. You should be—Oh, shhh. The show is starting,” Happy said, leaning closer to the television.

  Apple only half paid attention to her mother, who was introducing a woman named Cybil who was in love with two men at the same time. Apparently, Cybil was engaged to be married to Dave when she met Mark, who she feels may or may not be her soulmate. As her mother’s voice asking, “Do you want my advice?” buzzed in the background, Apple’s mind wandered. She envisioned a good conversation with Zen and wondered how she would go about getting to the next step of Plan Z—the step of getting him to want to hang out with her.

  “After the break,” she heard her mother say, “we’ll hear from Mark and Dave how they feel about sharing the same woman.”

  There was a shot of the audience clapping and then it went to a commercial.

  “Okay, we can talk now,” said Happy, “at least until the commercial break is over. You know, I really believe you can be in love with two people at the same time. I feel bad for Cybil.”

  “I feel bad for Mark and Dave,” Apple answered. “What kind of woman gets herself into that kind of mess? Isn’t she embarrassed at all? Aren’t they all embarrassed to share this story? I feel bad for all of them. It’s just so personal to be sharing with so many people.”

  “You want to know something personal about me?” Happy asked Apple. “I think I may have a little crush myself.”

  “What?” Apple said, sitting up to attention. “On who?”

  Apple felt her heart sink. She suspected what was coming next. She knew Happy well enough. She knew what she’d seen after school. Happy tossing her hair behind her shoulder. Happy sticking out her chest a little.