Rotten Apple

by Rebecca Eckler

  “I know. That’s not what I meant,” Apple said. “I just meant that I wouldn’t want to hurt Hopper’s feelings. I mean, it’s just a dance, and he must be sort of brave to have asked Happy. And so nicely.”

  “Maybe Apple’s right,” Brooklyn admitted. “It is just a dance. No need to lose any sleep over it. Find your inner peace. Follow your heart. Everything always works out.”

  “Well, I have been losing sleep,” said Happy. “Can I tell you guys something, if you promise not to judge me? It’s just that I was kind of hoping someone else would ask me.”

  “Like who?” asked Brooklyn, rolling her eyes at Apple.

  “Zen. I wanted Zen to ask me.”

  “Duh! Like I said, you should always follow your heart,” said Brooklyn. “Why don’t you just ask him?”

  Apple turned and looked at Brooklyn, stunned that her friend would suggest such a thing. How could Apple have known that Happy really, really had wanted to go with Zen, that she was losing sleep over it? And she was the one who had advised Zen to keep it cool!

  “Maybe she wants to know that he wants to ask her,” Apple said slowly.

  “Well, you guys have given me a lot to think about,” Happy said. “Now let’s just enjoy our facials. I’m totally stressed about this. I need some pampering.”

  Two evenings later, Apple and Brooklyn were in Happy’s big kitchen, making s’mores. Sailor had just stormed out of the house, after Happy refused to admit that she had borrowed her jeans, which Apple knew she had done.

  “I think I’m going to take your advice,” Happy said suddenly from the chair in the corner where she’d been sitting watching her friends cook.

  “About what?” Apple asked.

  “Going to the Valentine Ball dance with Hopper. I think I should just go with him,” she said. Apple could tell Happy wasn’t thrilled at the prospect. Her voice sounded beaten down, deflated like a two-day-old helium balloon. She looked tired, too, and washed out, sitting in a fetal position on a chair. And Happy always looked flushed and healthy.

  “Why?” Apple asked, trying to sound supportive and concerned.

  “I don’t know. If Zen really wanted to ask me, I think he would have by now. I mean, the dance is just over a week away. Obviously, he doesn’t really want to ask me or he would have. And, you’re right—I don’t want to be the one to ask him. I do want to know that he really wants to go with me,” Happy said. “And Dr. Caffeine agrees. Plus, you’re right—maybe it’s fate.”

  “Maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to it,” Apple suggested.

  “Maybe. But I talk to him every day at school, and we e-mail each other almost every night. There has been plenty of time to ask, and he just hasn’t. It’s just so frustrating. I don’t know what’s going on in his head,” Happy said. “Sometimes I think he really likes me, but at other times, he just seems so distant. I don’t get it.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Apple said, “I think you’ll have a great time with Hopper. He’s fun. And at least someone asked you.”

  “Someone really cute!” added Brooklyn eagerly.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Plus, it is just a stupid school dance, like you said. It’s no big deal. Pass me the phone,” Happy said, using her chin to point out where the phone was. Her hand was covered in chocolate sauce and Apple watched as she wiped it off on a towel. Apple handed her the phone.

  “What? You’re going to call him now?” she asked.

  “Sure. Why not? What time better than the present?”

  “Right,” said Brooklyn, as they watched Happy dialing. “Live in the moment.”

  “Message coming,” Happy said, after a brief pause.

  “Hey, Hopper, it’s Happy. I thought about it, and I’d love to accept your invitation to the dance. I’m looking forward to it. So, I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Cheerio!”

  Apple couldn’t believe how easy-breezy Happy sounded. How did she talk to the opposite sex so confidently, especially when her heart really wasn’t in it? She was a good actor.

  “Well, I guess that’s done,” Happy said. “No turning back now.”

  “Happy! Hopper is super hot, and we’ll all be there. You’ll have fun,” Apple said, trying to cheer up her friend.

  “Yeah, you’re right. It will be fun,” Happy answered, plastering a smile on her face.

  “That’s right, Happy,” Brooklyn agreed. “If you smile on the outside, you’ll begin to feel better about everything on the inside.” She reached for her big toe and raised her leg straight up high into the air, while smiling, as if to prove her point.

  When Apple got home, she couldn’t stop thinking that Zen was now clear. He was dateless! Maybe this turn of events meant that she and Zen were fated to be together. It was all about timing, perhaps. Maybe everything did happen for a reason.

  There was no way she could feel what she had felt when Zen’s arms were around her if they weren’t meant to be. There was no way. And if it had felt that good when she fell accidentally into his arms, how good would it feel to have his arms purposely wrapped around her?

  She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  “Hey, Happy,” Hopper said the next morning at the spiral staircase.

  “Hey, Hopper,” Happy said and smiled at him.

  “I got your message last night,” he said.

  “Oh yeah? Good,” Happy said, and smiled more sweetly.

  “Yeah, so do you want me to pick you up at home, or do you want to meet here?” Hopper asked her.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Zen threw in, looking at both of them.

  “Happy accepted my invitation to take her to the Valentine Ball,” Hopper said casually.

  Apple immediately looked up at Zen. But he was retying his shoelaces, and not looking up. She couldn’t catch his eye. The expression on his face was pained.

  Oh, God, thought Apple. This is my fault. She felt horrible looking at Zen, who looked horrible. Even though Apple did not want him asking Happy to the dance, and wanted Happy to go with someone else, she didn’t want Zen to find out this way.

  Just then Poppy, the head of the clothing drive, walked by, calling out, “Thanks so much, Apple and Zen, for doing such a good job for the clothing drive! It’s much appreciated! Just one more day!”

  Zen simply nodded at Poppy, and Apple said to her, “No problem.”

  The bell rang and there was a rush to gather notebooks and knapsacks.

  No one was quicker gathering their things than Zen, who had already jumped down the last two stairs and was heading toward class—except for Happy, who had hurried off leaving a trail of her signature peach scent.

  “Zen?” Apple called out, catching up and grabbing his arm. She didn’t know exactly what to say. But she knew she had to say something.

  “What?” he growled. Apple was taken aback. He had never sounded unfriendly to her before.

  “Are we meeting today to go over to the club after school?” Apple asked. It was the only thing she could think of to say at that moment.

  “I guess we have to. It’s the last time, right?” Zen said.

  “Apparently,” said Apple.

  “I’ll meet you by the front doors after school,” Zen said, and walked off.

  “Bye!” Apple called out after him.

  But Zen didn’t turn back or respond. Apple had a hard time catching her breath.

  She couldn’t pay attention to any of her classes all day. Everyone seemed to be in a foul mood, even the teachers. Mr. Kelly gave a pop quiz.

  “Did you know?” Zen asked, as soon as Apple walked up to him at the front door after school. It seemed as if he had been waiting all day to ask her the question.

  Happy had left early, for an “emergency” session with Dr. Caffeine, Brooklyn had told Apple, before she left for her yoga class.

  “Did I know what?” Apple asked, even though she knew what he was getting at.

  “Did you know that Happy was going to the dance wit
h Hopper?” Zen asked resolutely.

  Apple had two choices. The first was that she could lie and tell Zen that she had no idea, and that she had found out the same time he did, at the spiral staircase that morning.

  But Apple felt exhausted. She didn’t want to lie or tell half-truths anymore.

  “I did know,” she told him. “Well, I found out last night. I was at Happy’s house and she called him and told him she’d go with him.”

  “So you knew that Hopper had asked her,” he said.

  “Well, I guess so. I mean, I found out just the other day. But I didn’t know that she was going to accept until yesterday night. Didn’t Hopper tell you?” Apple asked. “I mean, didn’t he at least mention to you that he was thinking of asking Happy?”

  “No,” Zen said huffily. “Why would he?”

  “I don’t know. I thought you guys were good friends,” Apple said.

  “We are. But we don’t talk about things like that. We’re guys.”

  “Oh. Right,” Apple said. She didn’t know what else to say.

  They walked in silence in the direction of the club. Zen walked quickly, so that Apple was always two steps behind him.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Zen said suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t think it was important. And she’s my best friend. I don’t usually go around telling people what’s going on in her life,” Apple answered.

  They continued to walk along in silence, Zen still walking ahead of Apple. But it was as if he couldn’t contain himself. He stopped in his tracks again and looked Apple in the face.

  “You told me that I should play it cool. That I shouldn’t rush into asking someone to the dance. That’s what you told me,” he said loudly. He was one notch away from yelling, Apple could tell.

  “No, I told you that’s what my mother’s advice would be!” Apple corrected him.

  “Well, it didn’t work!” he scoffed.

  “I never said it would work! I mean, no one can see into the future. She’s not a fortune teller. She just gives out advice!” Apple tried explaining.

  “Well, it was bad advice. I should never have listened to it. I mean, if I had just asked Happy when I wanted to, she would have been going with me, not Hopper.”

  “Yes, there is something to be said for going on your gut instinct,” Apple said.

  “Yeah. I snoozed and now I lose. I don’t even want to go to the dance anymore. I just want the whole thing to be over and done with,” Zen muttered.

  Apple felt awful. She needed to make it up to Zen. She needed, more than anything, for Zen to not be mad at her. He clearly blamed her for the turn of events. And rightly so, Apple thought.

  “Zen, I have an idea,” she told him, grabbing his arm so he would have to stand still.

  “It’s not more advice from your mother, is it?” he asked, bitterly.

  “No,” Apple said.

  She couldn’t believe she was about to do what she was going to do, but she really wanted to. “Well, it’s just an idea,” she said. “But maybe if you went to the dance anyway and looked good and acted very charming to Happy, she’d spend most of the night with you. I mean, it’s just the Valentine Ball. She’s going with Hopper just as friends. You heard them this morning.”

  “I don’t know,” Zen said as if he seemed to be considering it.

  “Come on! Don’t give up now. You know what I’ll even do for you?” Apple pressed, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

  “What?”

  “I’ll go as your date. You know, so you don’t have to show up alone. I think you could win Happy back, no problem. She may even think you look chivalrous,” Apple said, trying to get him into the spirit.

  This was so not how I wanted this to work out, thought Apple. I wanted to go with Zen, but not like this. Not like this at all. This was not how it was supposed to go down.

  But maybe once Zen saw her in another light, he would think of her differently. Stranger things have happened.

  “So, will you go to the Valentine Ball as my date?” Apple pressed.

  “Thanks Apple, but I think I’ll pass,” Zen said, without taking even a moment to think about it.

  God, no one can find out about this, Apple thought. Oh, God, she thought, what if Happy finds out that I knew that Zen wanted to ask her but that I didn’t tell her?

  Apple realized, for the first time, that she needed help. She needed to talk to someone. She obviously couldn’t go to Happy or Brooklyn. Aunt Hazel, maybe? But her aunt was so crazy, and besides, Crazy Aunt Hazel couldn’t figure out her own life.

  Sitting together collecting clothes for the next hour was painful. Apple had no idea how to pretend to ignore that Zen had turned her down so cruelly. Zen didn’t speak much either. Apple knew his mind was on Happy and Hopper. She busied herself by folding clothes.

  As she watched Zen walk off after the hour, she thought that volunteering to get closer to him hadn’t worked at all. In fact, now he was just mad at her. Why couldn’t he just like me, Apple thought—why did it have to be so difficult?

  As she walked home, she remembered some of her mom’s opinions about the importance of sharing your feelings and asking for advice. She knew she had to take action, because she couldn’t keep leading her life this way. She was even sincerely questioning if she, not Happy, was the one who needed a shrink, based on her actions in recent weeks. When had she turned from Good Apple into Rotten Apple?

  It pained Apple to even think about it, but there was one person she knew she could ask for help. And that person was so easy to find, at least for Apple—her mother, Dr. Bee Bee Berg.

  When she arrived home and headed to her bedroom, Apple locked the door. Apple never locked her door, but this time she needed to. She sat down at her desk, fired up her computer, and created an anonymous e-mail account and a fake e-mail name.

  Where should she start? She knew that her mother and Guy preferred to answer the shorter e-mails rather than the ten-page-long ones Dr. Bee Bee Berg sometimes received from distressed, and possibly disturbed, viewers. She also knew that her mom and Guy loved e-mails that included a bit of flattery.

  Apple began to type.

  Dear Queen of Hearts,

  I need your help. Only you can help me. I’ve been an awful friend, and I didn’t even get the guy. Let me make a long story short. I was in love with a guy for a very long time. I never told him, or anybody. Suddenly—out of nowhere, it seemed—he started to like my best friend. My best friend is gorgeous, and I could never compete. She liked him back. I couldn’t handle it. I guess you could say I tried to sabotage their relationship—not purposely, but I let it happen. Actually, sometimes it WAS on purpose. I led him to believe that she wasn’t interested in him. I led her to believe that he wasn’t interested in her. After telling my best friend to accept an invitation to a dance from a different guy who she wasn’t into, I then asked the guy she WAS into to the same dance. He turned me down. I deliberately gave my best friend advice that no one who wants a relationship to work should ever follow. Now everything is a mess. I’m worried that my best friend will find out what I did. I’m worried that the guy will find out what I did, and that we will never get the chance to see if we were at all meant to be. Now I just want out without anyone getting hurt. Please respond at your earliest convenience. But time is of the essence, for reasons I won’t get into. Sincerely,

  Bigmistakegirl

  PS. Love your show.

  Apple

  Apple reread the e-mail. Then she gulped, hit the Send key, and closed down her computer. Okay, that was done. And then, like in a nightmare you suddenly wake up from, Apple could barely catch her breath. Wait—did she sign herself “Apple” on the anonymous e-mail she sent her mother? Oh, my God. She was an idiot! Apple restarted her computer, which seemed to take hours to reboot. She bit her nails. She already knew, in her heart, what she had done. She typed in the password to her new e-mail account, clicked on Sent
, and scanned immediately to the bottom of the message. There it was. Right after signing “Bigmistakegirl,” there was also her real name, standing out as bright as Christmas lights.

  How could she have let this happen? Breathe, Apple, just breathe. What are the chances that her mother, or Guy, would ever actually read the e-mail she had sent? After all, they received hundreds of e-mails a week. The only reason they had probably opened Happy’s so quickly was that she had written in the subject line that it was from Apple’s friend. Breathe, Apple, just breathe. She felt like she was holding her breath, even though she knew she was actually inhaling and exhaling. Maybe there was another girl out there with the unfortunate name Apple. But what were the chances of that? God, if only her name had been Anne or Jane or something normal she wouldn’t be so worried. Apple hated herself. She couldn’t even send a fake e-mail correctly. She needed help in more ways than one.

  pple walked around the house aimlessly. She opened and shut the fridge door a dozen times. She flipped through old magazines. She had no idea what to do with herself—she felt restless, and like jumping out of or peeling off her skin. It had been three days of what had seemed like nothing less than torture. Every time she saw her mother, Guy, Hazel, or her father at home, she looked for signs that they had found out what she had done. Just yesterday, her father had stared at her strangely, Apple thought. But all he said was, “You know I love you, kid, right?”

  And when Crazy Aunt Hazel said, out of the blue one evening, “I know what you did, missus!” Apple had felt her stomach do a somersault. It turned out Crazy Aunt Hazel was only complaining that Apple had finished the carton of her aunt’s favorite ice cream.

  Though Apple was paranoid, and was watching her family like a hawk, everyone in her house seemed to be acting totally normally, at least as normally as usual. She knew she should get outside and go for a walk—anything to get her away from her computer. She could walk down to Market Mall and look at clothes, but she had never felt so unattractive in her life, and she couldn’t imagine even having the energy to try anything on. No, not even shopping would make her feel better right now. There was only one thing Apple wanted to do.