Ella's Twisted Senior Year

by Amy Sparling

  She shrugs and takes another bite of her donut. “I’ll have my friend April stop by and get me.”

  I shake my head. “No way. We live in the same house for the time being. I can take you. I don’t mind and it saves gas so we’re being environmentally friendly.”

  “The environment ruined my house, so I don’t really care about it right now.” She shakes her head in an adamant no. “I refuse to inconvenience you. I’m already taking over your rec room and that’s bad enough.”

  I want to tell her that Kennedy frequently had me drive twenty minutes out of the way to pick her up when she didn’t feel like driving to school, but that comparison wouldn’t really help anything. I’d already ignored a handful of texts from Kennedy since last night, so the last thing I want to do is talk about her.

  Instead, the hollow feeling in my chest that’s been lingering there since the day of the tornado seems to grow bigger until I can’t overlook it anymore. I pull into a parking spot and lift the shifter into park. “Why do you hate me so much?”

  Now that the question is out in the open, I wonder why I didn’t ask it earlier. We should have cleared the air years ago. So, she didn’t like me? So what? We could have stayed friends.

  “Umm . . . do you really need to ask?” Ella’s expression isn’t sarcastic, but more genuine than I’ve ever seen her. “You crushed me that day, Ethan. How could I stay friends with you when you dropped me so freaking hard?”

  My brows hurt from how tightly they’re pulled together. “What the hell are you talking about? What did I do to you?”

  Her jaw falls open. Looking at her mouth makes me remember last night, and those glorious few minutes where her lips were on mine. I bite hard on my bottom lip and wait for her reply.

  “Are you seriously asking this? Are we seriously getting into this right now?”

  I nod. “Hell yes we are. I’ve been dying to know what happened to us. I would have been fine staying friends, Ella.”

  She looks at the clock on my dash. “Fine. We have four minutes until the bell rings. Let’s just get it all out in the open now.” She takes her coffee and downs the rest of it in a few gulps, tipping her head back. Then she lowers her gaze on mine. “You were my best friend, Ethan. And when you rejected me that summer before eighth grade, it just totally crushed me.” Her eyes fill with tears and I reach out to grab her hand but she pulls it away. “It felt like you betrayed me. You didn’t have to be so rude about it. You didn’t have to call me a stalker.”

  “Whoa.” I hold up a hand to stop her. “What are you talking about? I never called you a stalker. Never. I was in love with you.”

  Her eyes widen. “Then why did you tell Corey to reject me for you?”

  A ball of anger rises in my chest. “Corey told you that?”

  She looks at me like I’m dumb. “Of course. When he pulled me away the day we were in your pool and he told me you didn’t like me and that ‘honestly, he thinks you’re a stalker, Ella,’” she says, making her voice low and stupid as she mocks him.

  “Oh my god. Did he tell you that after you had him tell me you didn’t like me?”

  Her lips tighten and a muscle in her jaw twitches. “He told you that?” She looks past me, as if she’s staring into her memories instead of the high school parking lot. All around us, students are filling into the school and we’re sitting here in our own little world, revealing one hell of a story and I don’t think either one of us knows all the details.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “That day in the pool, the last day you ever came over. You went inside with Dakota to get a drink and he told me you wanted me to deliver a message that you didn’t like me in a boyfriend way, just in a friend way. He told me you wanted me to lay off.”

  “That son of a bitch,” Ella snaps. Her hands ball into fists as she grips her backpack straps in her lap. “He played both of us. He told me you didn’t like me. Which was weird because that summer I was pretty sure we both liked each other. Every day I went over there thinking that would be the day we’d kiss.”

  I nod. “Me too, Ella. You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you out.”

  She blinks and a tear rolls down her cheek. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I say, leaning across the seat. Fear of being rejected again makes me move slowly, my thumb lifting to brush away her tears. She doesn’t shove me away. “I had the biggest crush on you,” I say, wincing as my heart rips open. These are secrets I should hold close, keep them tucked away to where no one can use them against me. But the gates have opened and I can’t hold back any longer. “I was going to ask you out that summer. After Corey told me you didn’t like me, I was bummed but I thought we could still be friends. Then you just left and never came back. It killed me, Ella.”

  She reaches up and covers my hand over her cheek. “I can’t believe we’ve been suffering from a lie all these years.”

  In the distance, the bell rings but we don’t move. This moment is too special to worry about something as trivial as the start of first period.

  “Why would that asshole do that do us?” I ask, gritting my teeth as I think about Corey and how we’re not really friends anymore. I haven’t hung out with him in a couple of years.

  “I might have an idea,” she says. Her beautiful features twist into a scowl. “Not long after that, he made a move on me. He tried kissing me that same day actually, but I was so heartbroken about being called a stalker that I pushed him away. He tried hooking up with me like three more times at April’s beach party.” She shrugs. “Maybe he said it to break us apart so he could hit on me?” She frowns and shakes her head. “No, that’s stupid. Maybe he just didn’t like you.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, girl.” I grin and brush her hair behind her ears. It feels just as wonderful as I thought it would. “He wanted you. That explains perfectly why he’d pull such a dickhead move.”

  Her cheeks flush. “We should go to class.”

  “Not until you’re okay.” I reach down and grab her hand, more because I know she won’t shove me away than out of a need to comfort her. Maybe that makes me shallow, but I don’t care. I need to touch her, to feel her heartbeat beneath mine. Being near Ella is healing a part of me I’d forgotten was broken.

  “It sucked so bad,” she says, blinking away more tears. “You moved on so easily. You got hot and popular and you made a ton of friends. I was just stuck without you.”

  “I’m so sorry, El.” My heart feels like it’s breaking all over again as I imagine her going through eighth grade alone. Truth is, it’d been hell on me as well, but I hid it better. I joined football and made friends but I still missed her every day. I just channeled that hurt into working out and telling myself to get over it.

  “Maybe we could try being friends again?” I ask. She takes a second before looking over at me and in that moment, all the blood in my veins freeze in anticipation. If she rejects me again I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.

  “Yeah,” she says. “Maybe we could be friends again.”

  Chapter 14

  The first four classes of the day blur by as if I’m trapped in a time warp. I am vaguely aware of sitting in desks, staring ahead while my teachers ramble on with their lesson. In third period, I even manage to take some notes, using letters and words that might make sense to someone who’s in their right mind, so although my body is present and accounted for when my teachers take attendance, my mind is in a whole different world.

  One where Ethan never called me a stalker.

  Is it really possible to have spent the last four and a half years believing a lie?

  Ethan and I don’t have a single class together, which up until this morning I’d considered a blessing from the schedule gods. Now I’m dying for more time with him, thinking stupid things like how fun it would be if we could look over in class and share secret glances with each other. Something is severely wrong with me. We’d agreed to be friends. That’s all. And now I’m just blowing it all ou
t of proportion by letting it fill up my every waking thought.

  When the bell rings for lunch, I’ve nearly convinced myself to stop thinking about Ethan. Just for an hour, so I can think clearly.

  April grabs my elbow the moment I walk in the hallway from class. “Did you know they broke up?”

  I don’t need to ask who she’s talking about. “Yeah, it kind of happened right in front of me,”

  “Ella, there’s this new technology that exists. It’s called a cell phone. And it has this calling feature that’s pretty cool.” She narrows her eyes at me, her height making her look a little intimidating. “You should have used this technology to call and tell me all about it, you jerk.”

  I snort. “I’m going to need more than a phone call to tell you everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “Oooh, I’m intrigued. So how’d the breakup go? Was she all shrill and screaming?”

  “Actually no,” I say, shuddering when I realize that Ethan and Kennedy haven’t even been over for a full day yet and he and I have already made out. What kind of person does that make me? Ugh.

  “Okay well, she’s on the freaking warpath. Apparently she wasn’t going to tell anyone about the breakup because she thought they would get back together, but he told his friends and of course, word got out instantly.” She holds up her phone, wiggling it at me. “Some people know how to use social media, unlike you.”

  “Why do you even care about this? We’ve gone years not caring about the daily life drama of the popular crowd,” I say, grabbing a box of Cheerios from the cereal cart in the cafeteria. I’m not that hungry and plus, it’s only seventy-five cents.

  “I didn’t care until my best friend started living at the future prom king’s house,” she says, placing a hand to her chest. “Now I’m kind of psyched to see what happens.”

  I roll my eyes. “Nothing is going to happen.”

  We move up a few places in the food line and my eyes drift over to Ethan’s table. He’s sitting with his friends, his fingers laced together on the table. Kennedy sits next to him, sideways in the chair, her knees touching his thigh. I can’t hear what she’s saying but she’s talking animatedly, moving her hands around. I did want to tell April about the make out mistake of last night, but now I’m thinking I should keep that to myself. Clearly it meant nothing to him.

  I look at April. “You think they’ll get back together?”

  She digs in her pocket, fishing out some dollar pills to pay for her slice of pizza. “Who knows? But Kennedy seems to think they will.”

  “Yeah, probably,” I say with a nod. “Let’s sit outside today.”

  In the courtyard, I am separated by Ethan and Kennedy by a solid wall of glass and a couple dozen other students. It’s still not enough to block out thoughts of him, but it’ll do.

  “So prom,” April says while she blots off the grease from her pizza. “We haven’t been dress shopping yet. Are you still wanting to hit up the Galleria or go somewhere local?”

  I eat a handful of Cheerios. Prom has always been April’s thing. I agreed to go because it made her happy. But frilly dresses and hair appointments and limo rentals doesn’t light up that part in my brain that screams yay! Instead I just feel the pressure of choosing a dress that’s not too expensive but still looks awesome, and I can’t decide if the anxiety of trying to find a date is worse than the anxiety of going alone.

  All of our lives we’re exposed to movies and books and full page ads in magazines that build up our expectations for a wonderfully extravagant and perfect high school prom. We’re force fed ideas that frilly sparkly dresses are something to be desired and that wearing a dead flower on your wrist is supposedly romantic because a guy gave it to you. Why is this even a thing?

  We don’t live in old times where boys call on girls and court them before proposing marriage. We don’t wear petticoats and curtsey and giggle beneath a fabric fan. So why am I supposed to crap myself with excitement when prom time rolls around? I’d way rather spend the night watching TV.

  “It’s whatever you want to do,” I say, realizing April is still waiting on an answer for our dress shopping adventure.

  “Cool. We also need to get dates.” Satisfied with the grease removal, she picks up the pizza and takes a bite. “It’s not that I don’t want to go with my bestie and all, but this is senior prom and we totally need dates. Do you have anyone in mind?”

  My thoughts go to a certain tall, dark-haired guy who looks really sexy wearing only a towel. I shake my head. “Not a clue.”

  “No worries. We’ll figure it out. We have some time to find a date, but we should probably step up our game, ya know?” She shimmies her hips while sitting on the picnic bench. “We need to attract a couple of hot guys and we’re not gonna manage that with our current personalities, if you know what I mean.”

  “You’re such a dork,” I say, tossing back a handful of Cheerios.

  “And so are you, which is exactly why we need to sex up our image, lady.” April pumps her fists excitedly. A dark feeling settles over me as I realize that dress shopping really isn’t a good idea right now. With everything that’s happened, asking my parents to buy me a prom dress would be asking a little too much of them.

  But there’s no way I can tell April that now, and ruin her sparkly-eyed prom daydreams. Maybe I should channel all of the energy I’ve spent thinking about Ethan and use it to find a job instead.

  Chapter 15

  The final bell on Friday is like a siren song that I could write poems about. And that’s saying a lot because, despite my poetic last name, I don’t have a creative literary bone in my body. But an entire week has passed since Ella and I got our feelings out in the open and now we’re in a fun routine where we ride to and from school together, but don’t see much of each other outside of that. A few days ago, Ella and I watched Netflix with Dakota in the living room and although we didn’t talk much, it was the start of what I’d call a real friendship. There’s no more animosity toward each other, no more hurt feelings. Now we’re just getting to a place where we can make up for lost time.

  I make my way through the locker room, stopping when my phone goes off. Frustration makes me want to hurl my phone straight into the cinderblock walls. Kennedy is calling.

  I don’t know why she thinks I’ll answer her call when I’ve spent the last five days ignoring every single text and call she’s sent my way. That doesn’t stop her from joining us at the lunch table and trying to find me in the hallways between classes. I take a different route nearly every day just to throw her off my scent. But now it’s the end of seventh period and there’s no getting away from her. Which is why I press my back against the lockers and wait it out a bit. Ella is cool with this strategy.

  We both want to avoid a Kennedy conflict, so we just hang out in our last period until five minutes after the bell, then slip off to the parking lot. Kennedy is already gone by then, or she’s staying after for cheer. Whatever the case, it’s worked like a charm for five whole days.

  But in a world without magic, I guess the charm is bound to wear off at some point. Kennedy steps right in front of me the moment I walk out of the locker room. She’s in her cheerleader uniform, looking all peppy from the mini pompoms on her shoes to the giant bow in her ponytail. The only thing not emanating school spirit is the scowl on her face.

  “You can’t just ignore me, Ethan.”

  “Really? Because I thought I was doing a pretty good job.”

  She puts her hands on her hips and her perfect posture plus uniform makes her look in desperate need of a pair of pompoms. “Why are you being so mean to me?”

  I flinch. Mean isn’t exactly what I’m going for here, but after learning Kennedy’s true nature, I just don’t want to be friends. Is that so bad? “I’m sorry you think I’m being mean, but I’m trying to keep my distance. We’re not dating anymore so I don’t see why we need to text and talk all the time.”

  “Because we’re royalty
in this school,” she says. I don’t even know what to say to that.

  Coach Tamara saves me from the ex-girlfriend interrogation by calling Kennedy’s name. “Practice began five minutes ago,” she says, pointing to her bare wrist as if there was a watch there.

  “One second,” Kennedy tells her before turning to me. “I’m not going to lose you as a prom date,” she says, poking me in the chest. “You won’t humiliate me on the biggest day of my life.”

  My tongue runs across my teeth and for all the bravado I had a second ago, I can’t find a way to tell her that’s not happening. So I just start walking toward the art room, which is luckily on the opposite end of the hallway from where Kennedy is going.

  She calls my name and I look back although I’d prefer to just keep walking. Of course, that would be mean. “Yeah?”

  “I know you’re giving the homeless girl rides to school because she’s poor, but you should really pawn her off soon. Your reputation will suffer.”

  “Thanks for the unsolicited advice,” I call out over my shoulder. “Please lose my number.”

  “We’re not done,” she says, but I walk faster and don’t catch whatever she yells after that.

  Ms. Cleary is deep in conversation with Ella when I walk in the art room. They’re standing over a watercolor painting that looks like a super yellow sunset.

  “Ethan, hello,” Ms. Cleary says. She gestures toward the wall where some of my canvases from last year are displayed. “Did you bring me some more art?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m here to get Ella.”

  Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Even teachers aren’t immune to school gossip but she must be behind on the whole Kennedy and me break up thing.

  I hitch my backpack up my shoulders. “Ella lives with me.”

  This time her eyes widen so big she can’t hide it. Ella rolls her eyes and slugs me in the arm. “Don’t listen to him. He’s my neighbor and since our house became so much firewood, my family is staying with his family.”