Living Backwards

by Tracy Sweeney

  On Friday morning as I was curling my hair, I began humming an annoying song that played incessantly on the radio in 2011.

  I wonder what you’re doing now, Ke$ha.

  It sucked having a song stuck in my head that I couldn’t even listen to. Just another awesome thing about time travel the movies don’t seem to cover. I felt like I should be taking advantage of the more lucrative aspects of being sent back in time. If I were smart, I’d forget all about Megan and Danielle and go invent Facebook. Fortunately for them, I still believed Facebook was the portal to hell and didn’t want to be held responsible for unleashing that crap.

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I ran the new tube of red gloss across my lips and blotted them with a tissue. I felt much better. That Jillian had no make-up so I made an emergency trip to the pharmacy after school for supplies. I couldn’t resist picking up a teen magazine with a virginal Britney Spears on the cover looking up at the camera with wide, innocent eyes.

  You don’t fool me, Brit Brit. I know everything.

  After taking one last peek in the mirror, I grabbed my messenger bag from the floor and looked at the calendar on my desk. Today’s word was myopic.

  Myopic: Lack of discernment or long-range perspective in thinking or planning.

  Well, they can’t all be winners.

  I barreled down the stairs and into the kitchen to find a plate of burnt toast on the table.

  “Morning, mom,” I sang, shaking my head. “I see you’ve been cooking again and I use the term ‘cooking’ loosely.”

  “Have your fun, Jill,” she replied frowning and narrowing her eyes. “When you’re in New York this summer and you need to make your own breakfast, you’ll miss your good old mom.”

  I do miss you, mom. Never your cooking though.

  “Oh,” she added. “Suzanne Santin called last night. I forgot to tell you. She wanted to know if you were sick.”

  I gasped and felt my stomach tie into knots. I was a terrible friend. In the midst of all of the chaos caused by finding myself in another decade, I had neglected to keep up with one of the positive aspects of my old high school life. I had blown off Suzanne all week. Back in high school, I used to meet Suzanne in the library every morning. For me, it was a good place to hide so that I could avoid any awkward socializing before the bell for homeroom rang. For Suzanne, it was an opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend (now husband) Connor who was a library monitor. I began to panic thinking that she’d be angry that I hadn’t called her to explain. Suzanne was a great friend and although I didn’t get to see her as often as I’d like, she was still very important to me. I had some backtracking to do.

  “I have to get going, mom,” I managed to reply. “Are you working tonight?”

  “Sorry, honey, but I’m on second shift for the next two weeks to cover Marta’s vacation,” she said sadly. “Maybe you can pop by the hospital for dinner one night. I’m sure I can get one of the other techs to cover for a bit.”

  “Sounds good,” I replied absently. “Gotta run. I need to catch up to Suzanne.”

  I sprinted out the door with a piece of burnt toast between my lips. I knew it was silly to worry that Suzanne would be angry. She was so easy-going. I just felt really guilty for forgetting about her in my attempt to woo Megan and Danielle.

  When I walked into the library, the familiar smell of old books immediately calmed my nerves. It felt like home. Suzanne was sitting at a long table by the window, peering into her textbook. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a bun on the top of her head.

  “Suze, I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA!” I said a little louder than was socially acceptable.

  “Jillian! You had me worried. I heard Val say that you freaked out in trig and when I didn’t see you for a few days, I got nervous.”

  “I’m so sorry, really. I’ve been a little out of it, but I’m doing much better.” Her expression softened and I knew we were cool. I still felt like a jerk, though. “So how are you?”

  “Well, I got my prom dress,” she beamed. “Connor is still complaining about having to wear a tux, but he knows I’ll beat him silly if he doesn’t relent soon.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be amazingly handsome,” I added smiling. I suddenly wished I could tell her what was going on, but I barely believed it myself.

  “So what about you?” she asked hesitantly. “Can I convince you to come with us? You know Connor would love to have a hot babe on each arm.” I chuckled just imagining it. Yes, Connor would love that.

  “Did I hear my name?” he asked walking up behind us and placing a kiss on the top of Suzanne’s head. On his t-shirt was some anime girl with big boobs. To this day, his office at home is full of those stupid comic books. I didn’t get it at all.

  “Hey, Connor. I was just telling Suzanne that I appreciate the offer to be your second prom date, but I think I’m sitting this one out,” I replied with an apologetic smile. I briefly thought of Danielle’s mission to get me and Luke to go to the prom together. I might have even agreed if I didn’t already know he goes with Val. Even though he’s too good for her.

  “Well, think about it, Jillian,” he replied. “There’s enough of me to go around.” With a sweep of his arm, he mockingly bowed in front of us.

  “You could help me out with something, though,” I added. “Something that doesn’t involve dancing and public humiliation.”

  “Of course, name it.”

  “I need to find statistics on this year’s NFL Scouting Combine,” I asked.

  “Football? Um, why?” he asked clearly taken aback.

  “It’s actually for a friend. I’m helping her with a project.” Suzanne and Connor were gaping at me. As far as they knew, I had no knowledge or interest in football. I didn’t start following it until college, and it wasn’t until I got to know Nate that I truly understood the ins and outs of the game.

  “Well, I think we have Pro Football Weekly’s Draft Preview. I’m sure that will have the stats for you. Let me check and I can drop it by your locker later.” I thanked him profusely before he set off to dig through the periodicals. I planned to start filling Suzanne in on Operation Nate, but my mind strayed to the spot behind the gym, to Jack Daniels and to The White Stripes.

  “Suze, can you keep a secret?” I asked quietly.

  “Always,” she replied leaning in closely. I scanned the room to make sure no one was listening.

  “Well, lately during my free period and lunch, I’ve been hanging out behind the gym.” Before I could finish and let her know about the bizarre friendship I’d formed with Luke, I was interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open. I looked up and saw Luke himself walking towards the front desk. After he dropped a large book into the book depository, he turned and our eyes met. He smirked and winked at me before breezing out of the library without a word.

  “Um, Jillian, what was that all about?” Suzanne asked with eyes as large as saucers.

  “Ah,” I stammered. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow morning. I have to run.”

  I tried to walk and not sprint out the door. I honestly didn’t know what possessed me to follow him. I just knew that his smile did bad things to my girl parts. When I pushed through the double doors to the third floor hallway, I found him pulling books from his locker. I kept my eyes trained ahead and tried to act as casually as possible. I wasn’t very successful. He turned around slowly just as I was passing him, leaning his back against the locker.

  “Behaving yourself, Cross, or were you just looking for new places to stash booze?” he asked with a sarcastic smile.

  “You wound me, Luke,” I retorted with my hand covering my heart, “I take my Reference Rooms very seriously. And just what were you doing with that monstrosity in there? What was that? War and Peace? “

  “If you had been paying any attention in shop on Monday instead of orchestrating a peep show,” he began coolly, “you’d have noticed that Scanlon was fixing my bike before the class was so rudely derailed. The b
ook was a reference guide.”

  I suddenly felt sheepish. I hadn’t considered that barging into class the way we did would actually interrupt something important. What made it worse was that it was something important to Luke. It was two weeks to graduation, and I guess I figured everyone was just goofing off. Maybe I just wasn’t thinking at all.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he added pushing off the locker. He towered over me and I could smell the smoke on his jacket and a hint of mint on his breath. “Having a front row seat to the show made up for it.”

  “I thought you said she wasn’t your type,” I replied softer than I would have liked, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

  “I wasn’t talking about Megan,” he added, before turning and leaving me standing there feeling twitchy and awkward. I didn’t exactly know what he meant, but I was pretty damn sure that Luke was flirting with me. While I had obviously been hoping for some kind of response when I bolted out of the library after him, it nevertheless rendered me speechless. I had a Master’s Degree in English Literature. I was a walking dictionary and knew the difference between effect and affect. I didn’t do speechless. I had to get a hold of myself.

  “Bye, Luke,” I called to him as he walked away. “I hope you’re not too lonely without me today.” With that he stopped, staring at me suspiciously before stalking back to where I was standing. I was beginning to enjoy baiting him.

  “And why’s that?” he asked cautiously, arching an eyebrow.

  “Phase Two commences at lunch today,” I answered lightly, pretending that I hadn’t noticed the change in his demeanor. “I’ll be in the cafeteria with the law abiding students today. Since you were such a fan of the first performance, I’ll save you a front row seat just in case.”

  It was juvenile, but I wanted to be the one to walk away first. I wanted to leave him standing in the hallway looking twitchy and awkward. I wanted him to miss me when I wasn’t around. After a few steps I turned back, waving over my shoulder while I tried not to giggle like an idiot. I knew he watched me walk down the hall. I could feel his eyes on me and the charge that ran through my body was like nothing I had ever felt before. Yes, I definitely enjoyed baiting him.

  My heart was hammering in my chest after that brief exchange with Luke, but I needed to focus on Phase Two so I tried to push the thoughts of him away even though I still felt the crazy energy coursing through me. When I reached my locker, I found Connor trying unsuccessfully to jam a magazine through one of the slots.

  “Are you defiling that poor innocent periodical on my account?” I teased.

  “What are friends for?” he retorted, handing me the crumpled up magazine. “And here’s Pro Football Weekly’s Draft Preview. Maybe you’ll tell me one of these days why you really needed this.” He gave me a playful punch in the arm and turned to leave.

  “Promise,” I called to him with a smile.

  During my first few classes, I scoured the Combine statistics and took notes on running times instead of reviewing for finals. It was a good draft in 1999 with a lot of talented players. I had all of the information I needed when I met Megan at her locker. I showed her my notes and gave her my opinions based on the player’s actual performances in present day. When we walked into lunch, I was confident that Megan was ready to knock his socks off. A part of me was disappointed that I wouldn’t be hanging behind the gym for Happy Hour with Luke. I hadn’t even realized how much I looked forward to that part of the day, but Operation Nate was important. It was why I was here.

  Looking across the cafeteria, I spotted Danielle and Josh at one of the tables. They were sharing a chair, and if it were anybody else I’d say they were about to fall off, but that kind of thing worked for them. I, however, would have landed flat on my ass. Josh had clearly done what I had asked and convinced Nate to sit at their table. What stopped me in my tracks was the sight of the familiar leather jacket in the seat across from Nate. My heart started to race and I felt my cheeks burn. I guess he didn’t need me to reserve a seat for him after all.

  “It’s showtime,” I said to Meg under my breath. “Knock’im dead.”

  I followed Megan’s lead as she walked over to the table and dropped her books on top with a thud. Pulling out the chair next to Luke, she slid down into it with a sigh.

  “Problems, Megan?” Danielle asked on cue.

  “Oh, I’ve just been trying to narrow down my picks for the Fantasy Football Draft and I’m torn between a few players,” she began in a dismissive tone.

  Nate seemed to shift forward a bit. If I hadn’t been watching for it, I might have missed it. I pulled up a chair at the head of the table so that I could watch Megan and witness Nate’s reactions as well. My eyes met Luke’s briefly before I looked away. I had to stay focused. This was about Megan.

  “Which players?” Josh asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be discussing Fantasy Football with her.

  “Well, the Redskins just signed Champ Bailey from Georgia and he ran a 4.4 40 at the Combine. He was All-Southeastern Conference and All-American cornerback. It’s such a risk picking a rookie, but I think he can be amazing.” She tapped her finger against her lip as she studied the page of statistics in front of her. Champ Bailey was a machine. He was a great pick. He was with the Broncos now, and he kicked our butts every time we played against him.

  Nate was watching the exchange closely, and I noticed him looking uncomfortable. I wondered if he thought Megan had just memorized some words to impress him. It really wasn’t the case. While she may not have had enough knowledge back then to successfully maneuver through a Fantasy Football draft, Megan understood the game better than any other girl I knew. Her dad had season tickets to the Seahawks and during the away games, Meg would watch with him, yelling profanities at the TV when Kitna would throw an interception. While Megan would never normally swear in front of her parents, on Sunday afternoons there was an unspoken understanding that calling Kitna an asshole in front of her dad was completely acceptable. Technically, Megan didn’t need my help or those statistics, but I knew she would definitely get his attention by picking out some of the shining stars of that draft.

  “If I can get Brett Favre, I’ll definitely take him for QB, but have you seen Peyton Manning’s arm? And the guy can audible his way out of any formation. He’s got nerves of steel,” she added shaking her head from side to side.

  “Take Bailey if you can get him,” Nate interjected. He played absently with the straw in his drink and didn’t make direct eye contact. “He’s an amazing corner. One of the best rookies I’ve ever seen.”

  I was actually stunned that he chimed in so soon. She hadn’t even gotten to the bit about Ricky Williams or Edgerrin James.

  “You think?” she replied playing it cool.

  “Yeah. And I’d go right for Manning,” he added finally meeting her gaze.

  “Really? Even if Favre is available? I mean he’s Brett Favre.”

  “Yeah, but he’s getting old. How many years do you really think he has left?” If he only knew. “Manning was bred to play the game. I have some tapes of him playing with Tennessee. The guy is unreal. I can bring them in for you…I mean, if you’re interested.”

  “I’d love to see them, but maybe you should send them to Kitna if he’s as good as you say. He might learn something,” she replied sarcastically.

  “Now, now,” he countered holding this hands up in mock surrender. “He’s not that bad.”

  “Right,” Megan added rolling her eyes.

  “He has his merits,” Nate voice grew a little louder.

  “When he holds onto the ball,” she answered with equal intensity.

  I watched them volley back and forth. Meg was completely straying from the script, leaning over the table as she argued that the Seahawks should have drafted more defensive backs. Nate felt that they needed to build up the secondary. They were moving closer and closer, and I honestly didn’t know if he wanted to throw her down on the table and kiss her or kill her.
Even I, who was used to how explosive they could be, was feeling uncomfortable watching the highly charged exchange. I felt like I should interrupt and get them back on track, but I never got involved when they squabbled like this because they usually ended up naked very shortly after.

  “Please,” I heard Megan sneer. “I could run circles around your ass. I’ve seen how fast you are.”

  Somehow the topic of conversation had switched from the speed of Megan’s Fantasy picks to whether or not Megan could beat Nate in the forty-meter.

  “You’re joking, right?” he asked incredulously.

  “I don’t joke,” she replied dryly. “Try me.”

  “Fine,” he replied smirking at her. “After school at the track.” He got up from his side of the table and slowly walked over to her. “You better be ready to show me what you got,” he added, his voice husky and low.

  “Plan on it,” she added standing up and gathering her books. “Danielle? Jillian?” she called beckoning us as she turned to leave. I looked back at the table as we followed her out of the cafeteria. Luke had been laughing with Josh and his smile almost caused me to lose my footing. As he turned to face us, our eyes met again. His smile faded as he watched me with an intensity that made my cheeks burn again. I wished that I knew what he was thinking at that moment. His expression was so strange.

  After exiting the cafe, Megan held it together until she managed to scramble into the nearest restroom to jump up and down with excitement. I was thrilled that things had gone so well. It was classic Nate and Megan foreplay. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tackled him right on the field in front of the entire track team after school.

  “This is a cause for celebration,” I announced pulling Joan from my back pocket. “To Megan and Nate,” I began, raising the sparkling flask for my toast. “May all your ups and downs be under the covers.” Megan batted my arm, but I managed to take a swig and hand it over to Danielle.