Garret looks surprised but pleased. “Yes. Jade and I are going to a movie. But have fun at the party.”
Ava glares at me. She makes a huffing noise, then spins around on her heels and storms down the hall.
Garret doesn’t even notice. “What movie do you want to see? I’ll check the times.” He takes his phone from his pocket and starts swiping.
“What? No. I was just saying that to get rid of her.”
His eyes remain on the phone. “Too late now. You told her and now it’s public knowledge. We have to go. If she sees us around here she’ll know we lied.”
“I don’t care if she knows we lied.”
“Let’s see. We missed the 7:30 show but there are four movies that start at 9 or a little after. Should I read them off?”
“Hold on.” I cover his phone with my hand. “I never said I was going to the movies.”
He moves my hand away from the phone. “You just said it. Like a minute ago.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Never mind. You’re taking too long to decide. I’ll just pick one. Is that what you’re wearing?”
I glance down at my t-shirt and running shorts, confused by this entire scene. “Um, no. I guess not.”
Did I just agree to go with him? How did this happen?
He puts his phone away. “Can I come in? I’m kind of a target out here in the hall.”
“A target for what?” I ask, moving aside to let him in.
“Girls fondling me.” A smirk crosses his face as he waits for my reaction.
“Please tell me you’re kidding. Because if you’re not, then I need to start upping the insults again to bring you back down to earth.”
He’s trying hard to keep a straight face. “You saw Ava just now. Girls just can’t help themselves. What can I say?”
I shake my head and start rummaging through my drawer for a shirt. “I can help myself. I’m completely immune to whatever you think you’ve got going on over there.”
“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles. “You need some help?”
“Why? You think I can’t dress myself?”
He stands next to me, staring down at the open drawer. “Everything in here is black.”
“Yeah.” I close the drawer and open the one beneath it. “And everything in here is white.”
“Where are your other shirts?”
“That’s it. Well, I have a few in the closet.”
He walks over to look. “You only wear black or white?”
“Uh, yeah. Are you just getting that? You’ve seen me how many times and you’ve never noticed that?”
“Huh. I guess not.”
“It’s just easier that way. Black and white go with everything.” I take a black t-shirt from the drawer.
“You should wear purple sometime.”
I almost choke laughing. “Purple? Are you joking?”
“What’s wrong with purple?”
“I’ve never worn anything purple in my life. I’ve never even considered it. It’s one of those weird colors that old ladies wear.”
“Lots of people wear purple. And with your green eyes, you would look great in purple.”
“I hate my green eyes. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to them.”
He comes closer and lifts my chin up with his hand. “How could you hate your eyes? They’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Why do you think I’m always staring at them?”
“Yeah, that’s hilarious.” I push him back. “Now get out of here so I can change. Wait in the hall. I’ll be like two seconds.”
“Jade, you know I’m not safe out there.” He says it as if he’s really in danger. “Did you see all those girls running around in towels and robes?”
I roll my eyes. “I swear. The insults are coming, my friend. So tell your ego to get ready.”
He stands there.
“You’re really not leaving? Fine. Then turn around.”
I change into my jeans and black shirt. “Okay, I’m done.”
He inspects me. “Yeah. You definitely need some color. The black and white thing is getting old.”
“Well, I’m not planning on buying new clothes so you’ll have to get over it.” I search through my desk drawer for money. “How much are movie tickets? I haven’t been to a movie in years, so I have no clue. Six bucks? Seven?”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”
“Garret, you’re not paying.”
“You just saved me from being man-handled by Ava. That’s at least worth the price of a movie ticket. Maybe even some popcorn, too.”
I agree to his offer, thinking it’s just a few dollars and not worth arguing about. Then we get to the theater and the tickets are $12 a piece! When did movies get so expensive? I tell him to skip the overpriced popcorn, but he sneaks out after we get our seats and gets a giant bucket and two sodas.
“You have to get popcorn when you go to the movies,” he says when I scold him. “It’s like presents at Christmas. It’s tradition.”
I don’t bother telling him how presents were not a Christmas tradition at my house growing up.
“I can’t believe you picked a romantic comedy,” I say. “Do I seem like someone who would like that kind of movie?”
“No. That’s why I picked it. I thought it might sweeten you up a little.” He kisses my cheek. I ignore the comment. And the kiss. “So what’s the last movie you saw?”
“I can’t remember. I was like 15, so it’s been a while.”
“Why so long? You don’t like going to the movies?”
“I do, but it’s too expensive. And I didn’t have anyone to. . .” I decide not to finish that statement. The truth is that after my mom’s drug- and alcohol-induced suicide, the parents of the few friends I had didn’t want me hanging around their kids outside of school. I guess they assumed I was just like my mom and would steer their kids down the wrong path. So social activities, like movies, ended from age 15 on. And Frank and Ryan never went to movies. They always rented them.
The movie begins, preventing any awkward conversation around my comment. An hour into it, I find that it’s actually not that bad of a movie. It’s more of a comedy with just a little romance. Garret’s hand keeps meeting mine in the popcorn bucket which explains his insistence on getting the giant tub.
“We should do this again,” Garret says when we’re back in my room. “It could be another tradition, like the pancake place. We could go every Friday night.”
“This was fun, but you need to go out like everyone else does on Friday night. Go to parties. I don’t want you missing out on stuff because of me.”
“I’m not missing out. If I wanted to go to a party, I’d go.” He pulls on me to sit next to him on the bed. “I was planning on going to that party Ava was talking about, but then I thought about what it would actually be like when I was there and decided I’d rather be doing something with you. That’s why I came down here tonight.”
“What if I’d said no?”
That cocky grin appears as he points to himself. “Come on. Who can say no to this?”
“Goodnight, Garret.” I point to the door.
“I’m kidding! Geez, you really think I’m being serious?”
Actually I did. He is incredibly hard to say no to.
“Well, next time you want to do something, you should give me more notice. You’re just lucky I wasn’t busy tonight.” It’s such an exaggeration. I’m never busy. I have nothing to do besides homework.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Laundry.” It’s the truth, but as soon as I say it I realize how pathetic it sounds.
“That’s too bad because I was going to invite you up to my room for pizza and a movie marathon.”
“Hmm. I do love pizza. And movies. But are you saying you’ll be there, too? Because that kind of ruins the whole thing so—”
His nudges my side. “Okay, I guess I deserve that. So what’s your answer?”
16
Before meeting Garret for our Saturday movie night, I do some prep work. I take a long shower, shave my legs, straighten my hair, brush and floss my teeth, and put on makeup.
I have no idea why I’m going to all this trouble to watch movies with a “friend.” I attempt to rationalize it but come up with nothing other than the possibility that living with all these girls has given me an estrogen boost. My girly-girl side just can’t help but come out when I’m living with a floor full of them. And frequent visits to Harper’s exploding pink room certainly doesn’t help matters.
I knock on Garret’s door at 7, right on time. When he opens it, I’m greeted with a sea of sparkling blue lights hanging from the ceiling. They cast a soft glow as they’re the only lights on in the room.
“What’s all this?” I ask, walking inside.
“I wanted to add some atmosphere. It’s cool, right? And now we don’t have to use the harsh overhead lights or the bright desk lamp.”
“I don’t know,” I say suspiciously. “This seems like some type of romantic mood lighting.” I turn to him. “And I can tell you right now that you’re not getting sex tonight.”
He laughs and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Tonight? So you’d consider it some other night? Okay. That works for me.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant that you’re not getting sex tonight or any night. At least not with me.”
Why did I just say that? It’s far too bold a statement. I basically ruled out having sex with him for all of eternity which is not at all what I wanted to do. But it’s too late now. I can’t take it back.
“Well, if we’re not having sex you might as well leave right now.”
I stand there in shock as my anger rises. I should’ve known that’s all he wanted from me. I try to push past him to get to the door, but before I can take two steps he scoops me up in his arms.
“I was kidding, Jade. Man, you can’t take everything so seriously.”
“Put me down.”
“Only if you promise to stay.”
I try to wiggle free, but it just makes him hold me tighter. I could use my self defense techniques on him, but that would hurt him and I really don’t want to do that. Plus, I like being in his arms. He’s really strong. Holding me up like this doesn’t even seem to be any effort for him.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
He starts to put me down, then stops. “One more thing. You have to give me a compliment. After all the insults you’ve given me, I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”
“Just put me down.”
“One compliment, Jade. That’s it.”
I sigh. “Fine. I like your stupid lights.”
It makes him laugh to the point that he can no longer hold me. He sets me down on his giant bean bag chair.
His cell phone chirps. “That’s the pizza. I’ll be right back.”
While he’s gone I stare up at the twinkly blue lights. They are really cool.
“Did you pick out a movie?” Garret comes back with a large pizza balanced on his arm.
“Yeah. The crime-fighting dog movie.”
“We’re not watching that, Jade.”
“Oh, we are so watching it.” I crawl over to the box of movies and fish it out.
Garret doesn’t bother trying to stop me because he knew we would watch it eventually.
After the movie, which isn’t too bad for a cartoon, Garret takes the pizza box to the outside dumpster because it’s stinking up the room. When he returns I’m searching the box for another movie.
“I’m picking the next one,” he says. “After that last one, I’m starting to question your judgment.”
“It’s your movie!” I go to his fridge to get another soda.
“This one’s good.” He holds up a comedy.
“As long as it’s not some sappy romance.” I go back to my place on the bean bag chair, expecting him to sit against his bed like last time but instead he sits next to me on the bean bag chair. His change of seats has me wondering what’s going on with him. Our friends-only agreement still stands and yet sometimes he tries to push its boundaries by holding my hand or kissing my cheek or getting really close like he’s doing now. And as tempting as it is to take that next step, I feel like I shouldn’t. But damn, it’s tempting.
Midway through the movie I get sleepy. An hour later I wake up lying against Garret, his arm around me. He’s asleep and the TV is now a blue screen.
“Garret, get up.” I push myself off him and get up to take the movie out.
“The movie’s already over?” He yawns. “How did that happen?”
“We fell asleep. You want to watch another one or do you want to go to bed?”
“It’s only 10:30. It’s too early for bed. Let’s see what’s on TV.”
I grab the TV remote and return to the chair. I flip to an old movie from the eighties.
“My mom loved this one,” Garret says. “It’s about these two girls who—”
“You never mention your mom. Does she live around here?”
He gives me an odd expression. “My mom is dead. I thought you knew that. Don’t you watch the news?”
I’m slightly offended by the comment, but I don’t think he meant it to sound condescending. I turn the volume on the TV down.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I feel my cheeks getting warm.
“It’s okay. It was long time ago. I was 10 when it happened.”
“Why was it on the news?” I almost don’t want to know. If it made the news, something really bad must’ve happened. The news only reports violent deaths like murders.
“She died in a plane crash. It was one of those small private planes.”
That was my other guess. Some type of tragic accident. But I’m not sure why he thinks I would’ve heard about it on the news in Iowa.
“Did it happen close to here?” I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Garret. I shouldn’t ask. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine. I can talk about it. It, um, it happened in Virginia. My parents were down in DC for a political fundraiser. My dad had to fly back early for a meeting. Mom stayed behind to attend another event that night. She hated that political crap, but she was kind of expected to go because my dad was a big supporter of this guy’s re-election campaign. Anyway, to say thanks, the guy offered to fly my mom home on his private jet. He had to do a speech in Hartford so the plane was supposed to arrive there and Dad and I were going to drive up and get her.”
Garret pauses for a moment. I can tell that despite what he said, this isn’t easy for him to talk about. “My mom didn’t like private planes. She said they weren’t safe. That’s why we didn’t have one back then. Anyway, soon after the plane took off it crashed. No survivors. It only made national news because that guy was a senator. And to this day, there’s all these rumors on the Internet about how it wasn’t an accident and how someone was trying to kill the senator. Crazy conspiracy shit. Just last year there was an hour long story about it on one of those news programs. It’s like it never goes away.”
I sit there not sure what to say. I had no idea Garret had this giant loss in his life. I get the feeling he hasn’t shared this with many people. It almost seems like the topic hasn’t come up in years. Maybe he tries to forget it. And then I go and open my big mouth asking him all about it.
I feel like I should say or do something, but I don’t know how to respond. It proves once again that I suck at comforting people. Garret is sitting there quietly, likely reliving the event in his head thanks to me. His normally happy face is now sad. Even his eyes look sad. I feel terrible seeing him like this.
“Stand up,” I say to him.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
He stands up.
I stand right in front of him. “Let’s do that thing you taught me.”
“What
thing?”
“That thing with your arms.”
He looks at me, confused.
“You know that day when you found me in your room after I accidentally spent the night here? That thing you did after the pool?”
He starts to smile. “You mean a hug?”
“Yeah. That. I need to practice that. Can you show me again?”
His smile grows. He puts his arms around me. I do the same to him.
“Tighter,” he instructs.
I squeeze tighter, resting my head against his chest. We stay in that position for several minutes, the blue lights twinkling above us. As he starts to pull away, he stops briefly to kiss my forehead, then whispers in my ear, “Thank you.”
Yes! I finally did it. I comforted someone. And it felt incredibly good.
The next morning, we meet for breakfast again for week two of our Al’s Pancake House tradition. This time I order blueberry pancakes.
“I don’t know what Al puts in these things but they are beyond amazing,” I say, chewing slowly to make each bite last.
“I know, right?” Garret ordered the basic buttermilk ones this time, also an excellent choice. “Are you going to write about these in your English journal again?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Why? You don’t like reading about pancakes?”
“It could get old by the end of the semester. And I think you’re going to run out of things to say.”
“Never.” I close my eyes, savoring them. “These are so good that this week I might even make up a poem about them.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he kids. “You really like pancakes, don’t you?”
“What’s not to love? They’re basically a dessert but you get to eat them as a meal in giant stacks.”
“You’re funny.” He takes a drink of his orange juice. “My mom used to love pancakes, too.”
I almost choke hearing him mention his mom. I didn’t think he’d want to talk about her again after last night.
“Katherine, my wicked stepmother, can’t stand pancakes. She says it’s poor people food. She won’t even let Lilly have them.”
“Lilly is your sister?” It seems odd that I don’t know this by now, but we’ve both avoided talking about our families.
Choosing You Page 14