Liars and Losers Like Us

by Ami Allen-Vath

  “I know. I wanted to tell you so bad. Trust me, I’d rather be talking about Sean than having to call you about this.”

  “Good. I just want my friend back. So, no hard feelings, man?”

  I force a fake laugh through the phone. “Nope. No way man. We’re good.”

  “Good. I’m calling you on my break and I wanna talk Prom and most importantly, get all the nasty details on Sean finally growing the ovaries to ask you out.”

  When we hang up, I drop my phone, grab a furry orange pillow, and hurl it. It smacks and slides down the wall of old records that Kallie and I spent the whole summer collecting and hanging before our junior year. We did the same to her room, but her mom freaked and had all the nail holes filled and the whole wall repainted within the week. I snatch the pillow, lean up and slide down the wall, too. Sigh. At least I have my friend back. Best friends again, but with limits.

  Sean calls before I’m about to go to bed and I tell him about the convo with Kallie. Not that I expect him to, but he doesn’t really get it.

  “Hey at least you laid it out there. They’ll figure it out. Just be glad to have your friend again.”

  We talk a little more and he says he’ll see me in class tomorrow.

  Maybe he’s right about Kallie and the others, I think. Guess I’ll just let them all work it out.

  ****

  I drop my Howl free-writing assignment on Mr. Norderick’s desk.

  “Looks like you had some stuff you needed to get off your chest, Ms. Hughes.” I look down at my paper and nod. I can see how my sharp, heavy strokes and a handful of all-caps fuck-bombs jumping off the page might have tipped him off.

  I shrug. “Maybe a little.”

  “Hey,” I say to Sean as I slide into my chair. I’m really talking to Sean in class and making eye contact. I don’t drown, but my heart definitely kicks up a notch.

  “Hey.” He smiles. Glad you two are cool again.” Sean turns to Kallie and asks where she was Friday. “You missed out on our sober taxi. Maybe next time.”

  When we leave class and run into Todd, he punches Sean in the shoulder and says “Hi” to me like Friday never happened. I raise my eyebrow but say hi back. The four of us walk out to the parking lot and part ways to go to our cars. When I get in my car, my phone rings. Sean Mills.

  “Hey,” he says, ”I know I just saw you a minute ago but wanted to tell you that you look nice today and … I want to ask you something but I’m not sure if it’s too soon. So maybe we could hang out again on Friday and we’ll talk about it then.”

  “Sure,” I say. Please God let him be talking about Prom. “And thanks.”

  THIRTEEN

  Prom In Paradise

  An Evening With The Stars

  Twilight Memories

  Jungle Boogie Nights

  It’s Tuesday after school and everyone on Prom Court is sitting at one of the cafeteria tables.

  Brian’s texting on his phone, Chris and Laura are on opposite ends of the table, which means they’re broken up again, and the rest of us are passing around poster boards and the list of Prom theme ideas.

  “Are they kidding me?” Molly says. “This is awful.” She shoves a neon green poster board back to the middle of the table. “Jungle Boogie Nights? What the heck? How does the committee come up with this crap? So lame.”

  “Easy,” says Sean. “They know what they want and present it in such a way that you have to pick, hmmmm … pick …” He sets the boards up side by side. “None. They all suck.”

  “Twilight Memories?” Laura asks. “Someone is going too far celebrating their cultish book love.”

  “They can’t be for real,” I say. “We can’t pick a theme that includes cutouts of vampires and werewolves, can we?”

  Clearly, Twilight Memories is what the Prom Committee wanted us to like. The presentation board is pretty professional. Beautiful calligraphy, crisp gothic magazine cutouts and detailed illustrations of fancy punches, satin streamers in blood red, smoky gray, and jet black. Not going to lie, it’s sharp. But they lose me at the werewolf and vampire cutouts. The other themes are totally thrown together like afterthoughts. A few magazine and Google images glued onto tag board. A generic beach scene with a sunset, a map of constellations with the promise of star confetti, and a monkey in a tuxedo hanging from a jungle vine.

  Jane straightens her gold headband and frowns. “I’m not trying to be mean, but should anything Breanne says count? I mean, you guys, she’s not originally on court.”

  “Really Jane?” snaps Kallie. “I’m pretty sure Bree is on court. I’m also sure Bree was voted in fair and square and not as a joke like Maisey was, which was probably your asshole idea. Furthermore, she’s going to feel the same way as the rest of us. Right, Bree?”

  “Um, yeah,” I say. The same knots that were in my stomach at the party tie themselves tighter.

  “Ladies, ladies,” says Todd. “How ’bout we just figure this out. It’s not that serious. Everyone, just be cool.”

  “I’m always cool,” Kallie says and kisses Todd on the mouth.

  Jane twists and pulls the gold bangles on her wrist, her mouth twitching.

  “He’s right,” says Justin. “I, for one, have always wanted to have my Prom pic taken with a monkey in a tux.”

  “It might not be the end of the world to have the werewolves and vampires at Prom because everything else they have is worse,” says Laura.

  Justin’s eyes widen and he slaps the table. “Hey, maybe once we get to Prom, we can steal the cutouts or something. We could decapitate them or hide ’em in Shandy’s locker.”

  “Good idea, Conner,” says Brian, standing up and shoving his phone into his pocket. “As much fun as this is, I have things to do. Twilight Memories is fine. Dress the cutouts in boxer briefs for all I care. Everyone agreed?” He looks to Molly who is cross-armed and crinkly faced.

  “Well, the color scheme is pretty complimentary so … fine. I guess,” she says.

  Jane’s hand comes up. “Hang on. I don’t think we should just give up like this.”

  “I’m in,” says Sean.

  The rest of us nod.

  Except Jane who glares at Kallie. “Obviously I don’t matter all of a sudden. So fuck it, do whatever you want.”

  “Agreed,” says Brian. “It’s all set. Twilight Memories. I’m off to meet my boyfriend who’s home from college tonight. No more time for high school shit.”

  “Call me tonight, Moll, or anyone else who cares about anything,” Jane slaps the table in front of Molly and sashays out of the room.

  “Sure, I’ll call you.” Kallie laughs.

  Molly stands, “She’s in a crap mood lately so we should go easy on her.”

  “Thanks for the tip, Molly. I’ll see what I can do,” Kallie turns to Todd. “I told Bree I’d ride with her today, okay?”

  I shrug. “Yep, let’s go.”

  Sean squeezes my shoulder sending a warm flutter up my neck as we all part ways.

  “Getting hot in here,” whispers Kallie as we walk to our locker. “Thanks for covering. I’m just tired and not in the mood for hanging out with anyone today.”

  “So, I don’t count?” I smile. “Good to know.”

  “You know what I mean. Ugh. Speaking of someone who doesn’t count. What the hell is she doing? She was such a bitch today. I’m going to say something.”

  Jane’s down the hall by the library doors, hovering over someone, and talking all over the place with her hands.

  Kallie flips her hair behind her shoulder and moves ahead of me.

  “What are you gonna say?” I take long strides to keep up.

  “I’m asking what her problem is with you and why she was being such a bitch in there.”

  We get closer and Jane’s so engrossed in her bitching that she doesn’t see us to the left of the giant column near the library entrance.

  Jane’s voice is almost pleading. “But there’s nothing I can do. It’s not my fault he’s trying to apol
ogize.”

  The other voice says, “Yeah, but he’s your—”

  “Shut up,” Jane hisses. “Please. I’m not talking to him and I have nothing to do with any of it. I just need it to go away. He’s not part of my life anymore. At all. Ever.”

  And a familiar voice with the same bite, “Please. You’re just worried about people finding out.”

  Jane lowers her voice, “You’re not the only one it happened to, you know.”

  Maisey Morgan looks past Jane’s shoulder and meets my eye. Jane spins around following her gaze.

  “What the hell?” Jane’s face reads red hot horror as her fingers flare in and out of her palms.

  “What the hell’s your problem?” Kallie shoves Jane in the shoulder. “You better not even be talking about my boyfriend.”

  I grab Kallie’s wrist, squaring off in front of Jane. “You need to leave Maisey alone, she didn’t do anything.”

  Maisey stares at Jane, tears in her eyes. “For the record, Janie, I never thought I was the only one, and that’s the worst part of all.” Maisey runs down the hall toward the main doors. She does a trip slash half stumble but keeps on going.

  Jane steps forward. “Maisey!” She stops, takes a deep breath, and faces us. Her mouth is pulled into a tight line and her eyes look ready to release a serious stream of tears. She huffs. “Whatever. What a loser. That rat doesn’t even know what she’s talking about.”

  Kallie tugs her wrist out of my grip and steps back up to Jane. “You’ve got some serious issues, Hulmes. You’ve been picking on Maisey since elementary school, grow up. Everyone’s tired of your shit. You need to stay out of our way, cause if you haven’t figured it out yet, no one actually likes you, they’re pretending. Just like you, with all your fake gold tiaras and pageant shit.”

  “Screw you,” Jane says as she tries to walk past, but Kallie sticks out her boot.

  “Easy there, Grand Supreme. Listen to me. If your name comes up in anymore rumors or if you try starting shit that has to do with me, Todd, Bree, or anyone—”

  A librarian peeks her head out the door, “Ladies, keep it down, please.”

  “Oh, get over yourself.” Jane shoves past Kallie, whipping me with her thick braid.

  “Did she just bitch slap you with her hair?”

  “Just let it go. I’m over it,” I say, actually relieved she’s gone.

  “Same. I think we made our point.”

  Jane runs down the hall and out the door, her braid swinging from side to side.

  Kallie locks her arm through my elbow. “Let’s forget about this and get donuts. And most definitely discuss the real issue from that Prom theme meeting. Sean Mills was staring at you like it was a life drawing class.”

  We exchange the after school drama for glazed donuts, Sean talk, Prom dress image viewing, and absolutely no more mentions of Todd.

  ****

  At dinner I give my mom an abbreviated recap of my day and the meeting. I tell her how ridiculous Jane was but that Kallie and I seem to be cool again.

  “That’s great, what a relief.” She sighs and leans over her grilled chicken. “Soooo … speaking of ‘being cool again’, do you owe your dad a phone call?”

  “Why? It’s not like we’re in a fight.”

  “Hon, your dad says you’ve been distant since the divorce was finalized and he said you haven’t returned his calls and he hasn’t talked to you in weeks.”

  “Not on purpose. And funny you should mention it, I was thinking of calling him this month. Maybe even this week.”

  “Don’t be cute. I’m sure you know, but the divorce wasn’t all his fault,” she says.

  It’s been like half a year since the divorce was final and she’s talking to me about it now? “Yeah mom, I know. I’m sure there’s a reason why Dad didn’t feel like hanging around here all the time. Maybe all the yelling got on his nerves. Trust me, I get it.”

  She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something but takes a drink of water instead.

  “Like I said, I’m going to call him. Why’s he calling you about me anyway? I didn’t even know you guys still talk.”

  “Of course we still talk,” she says. “He loves and cares about you like I do. He worries too. He wants to know what you’re up to, how you’re doing. And hey, if you’re not calling him,” she narrows her eyes, “then he’s going to have to call somebody to get that info.”

  “Point taken. I’ll call him. Promise.”

  She looks relieved and goes back to her chicken. As I choke down a mouthful of bland broccoli, I make a mental note to call Dad by Friday after school. Before my date with Sean.

  FOURTEEN

  Late Thursday morning I’m called from Biology to the office again. Second time in the past month. My heart and stomach do all their signature moves. Jumping, flipping, racing, and all to a horrible tune of “what-if this or what-if that?” Maybe Maisey wants back in Prom Court. Or maybe Mom called Ms. Selinski about me not calling Dad. Convinced Mom ratted me out on my lingering divorce issues, I take longer, faster strides down the hall. Who does she think she is, anyway? Either she’s sweeping shit under the rug or making mountains out of it. I veer to the wall, lean against it and pull my phone out of my bag to text her.

  Really Mom?! I said I would call—FOR SURE TMRW!

  Send.

  As soon as I step into the office, I’m confused. My mom is standing in front of the main desk, still dressed in her work clothes.

  “Mom. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I start to feel jittery.

  “I don’t think so.” She glances down to her gray leather pumps. “Not really.”

  I get a sick stab in my gut and bubbles of fear burst upward. I gasp. “Is it Dad? Is he okay—is everything okay with Dad? He’s okay, right?”

  She hugs my shoulder with her arm. “Honey, calm down.”

  “You two can step back into Ms. Selinski’s office now,” says the school secretary, waving us toward the back of the office.

  My body stiffens and refuses to move. “Mom. Tell me right now. What’s going on?”

  “I promise. Your dad’s fine. It’s … well, let’s just get in here and sit down.” Her tone is low, somber, and offers no reassurance.

  As we settle into our chairs, Ms. Selinski shuffles papers beneath a strained smile as I run through every person I care about in my head. Then, I tick through each class and my grades. Not failing anything. Maybe Nord thought my Howl poem had too many fucks and was a cry for help. Actually, I doubt Nord would care about swearing in an assignment. It still might be Dad. I wish I’d called him this past weekend, like I’d originally sort of planned. My right knee bobs up and down in short, sharp jolts.

  “Bree, hello?” My mom grips my shoulder. “Honey, relax. Listen.”

  “Bree, are you okay?” asks Ms. Selinski.

  “Yes,” I say evenly, “I’m okay. Just tell me why I’m here.”

  “I’m so sorry to be delivering this news, but I wanted you to know that one of your classmates has passed away.”

  I take a deep breath, press my hand on my knee and beg my heart to slow down. I hate this feeling. The speeding heartbeat and the blur that rushes in and out of my head and past my eyes. My breaths are too short. Just gotta breathe. Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnine … ten.

  Ms. Selinksi runs her hand back and forth over her chin. “It was Maisey Morgan.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “She took her own life. I’m sorry. Were you, um, close or friendly with her?” Ms. S. asks.

  “No, I mean, what?” My face crinkles. “Maisey? Are you sure? She was just here the other day. Wait. But is she okay?” I stutter.

  My mom’s hand clenches my knee. “No babe, she’s not okay. Ms. Selinski is asking if you knew her.”

  I stare at my lap. My jeans are dark blue. They look clean. They’re one of my more expensive pairs. I don’t want them to fade so I rarely wash them. I probably haven’t washed them in three months. I bought th
em with my first paycheck over the summer. I wonder if I’ll work all the time now, and not just summers, now that school’s almost over.

  “Bree?” Mom’s hand is patting my knee again.

  I shake my head. “Friends? No, we weren’t. I’ve talked to her once or twice. Well, I guess we’re … acquaintances? Why?”

  “I know this is hard, but her parents wanted me to ask. She left a few good-bye letters, one for her parents, and a couple others for her friends. One has your name on it but her parents didn’t know who you were. Did she ever say anything to you, about wanting to hurt herself?”

  “About being suicidal? No.” I’m pretty sure she told me I was an asshole and called it a day. I add, “I know she didn’t have the easiest time at school, but I mean, I didn’t think it was that bad. That doesn’t sound right. I guess I mean, no. No. She never said anything like that. Do her parents think it’s because of me?”

  “Oh, honey, no, not at all. They’re just trying to make sense of something that will probably never make sense.” Ms. Selinski says.

  Things get blurrier. There’s a whooshing whurr in my head that sounds like the roar of the cafeteria at lunchtime. And then I’m pushed into the feeling I get when giving a presentation in front of a class. The feeling that I’m not really here.

  My mom sniffs and wipes tears from her eyes. “Thank you so much for being here for Bree and letting us know. This is awful and so devastating for everyone. Her parents. No one is supposed to lose a child, especially like this.”

  Like this. Thoughts pound through my head, invading like quick flashes of light. Why? Was she scared? Where were her friends? How’d she do it? Did it hurt? Did her parents find her?

  Ms. Selinski looks at me, softening her eyes. “Here’s her parents’ address.” She hands Mom a yellow Post-it. “They have the letter. I’m sure it’s all really confusing. But Bree, whenever you’re ready, they’d really like you to have it. I’m really sorry. This is a big loss for all of us. Friends, acquaintances, everyone.”