Trinkets

by Kirsten Smith

  but still in time to see Gina give her testimonial

  complete with iPhone photos

  of every relative she’s ever met

  and every pet she’s ever owned

  and every feeling she’s ever had

  because apparently her life has been so changed

  by group therapy

  that she needs to share

  extra hard today.

  She finally stops

  and Shawn asks if anyone has anything else to say.

  Moe stands up

  and Tabitha and I look at each other, surprised.

  Before Moe starts to talk,

  Shawn asks her if she can take off her hoodie, please.

  She does and her hair spills out;

  it’s no longer cherry red but kind of a sandy blond.

  It looks like a natural color if

  I had any idea what her natural color might be.

  A few months ago

  I was walking out of the supermarket

  and the sensor went off and

  I saw this little old lady stealing a pack of bologna

  and a pair of rubber gloves,

  but they grabbed me instead of her.

  I told them I didn’t take anything,

  but they didn’t believe me.

  They couldn’t find anything on me,

  but I figured the old lady had it worse than I did,

  so why make a fuss?

  I needed a distraction from waiting in my room

  for a boy who doesn’t show up

  or hanging out with people who will probably get me into actual trouble,

  so I came here

  and figured I’d come once or twice,

  but then I met some people….

  She looks over at Tabitha and me.

  … And I decided maybe there were

  other reasons to stay.

  Shawn runs up and hugs her

  and everyone claps and thanks her for sharing.

  and Gina decides now would be a good time to cry.

  Moe sits down really abruptly

  and looks over at Tabitha and me and mouths,

  Can we go to the Roxy now?

  MAY 6

  After Shawn signed our forms saying we’d successfully completed Shoplifters Anonymous, we went to eat Quentin Tarantunas to celebrate. I teased Elodie about going to Spring Fling with my brother and she blushed. It was obvious she’s totally in love with him. I don’t understand love. It makes zero sense. Friendships are a little easier I guess. Maybe it helps if you meet in a totally weird support group for people who are trying to “fill the hole inside,” to quote Shawn.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen next. There are still three weeks of junior year left, then one more year of high school, and then we graduate and grow up and go to college and get married and have babies and live out the rest of our lives, but as long as we keep eating Quentin Tarantunas together, it seems like a pretty good start.

  Now What

  After we eat, this is normally the part

  where we all split up

  and go steal stuff

  and meet to compare the spoils.

  But it doesn’t seem right now.

  That must be why Tabitha says,

  Moe inspired me to try something different,

  so I think I’m gonna try that for a while.

  We walk to the MAX together

  and hop aboard,

  heading to buy stuff for real this time,

  with some very appreciated Nordie’s gift certificates.

  Our bags aren’t going to end up full of loot,

  but when you’ve scored as much as we’ve scored,

  taking more seems like overkill.

  THE PHONE CALL

  When I walk in, my mom tells me Brady called. He’s been sending me texts for the past few days. I’ve been ignoring them.

  “I don’t want to talk to him,” I say.

  “Sometimes it’s better to have a difficult conversation than to avoid one,” she says. Did I mention she started going to therapy last week?

  “Fine.” I take the phone out of her hand and dial.

  “Hey, babe,” Brady answers. On the first ring, no less.

  “Sorry I kicked you,” I blurt out. He may not be the greatest guy on planet Earth, but I’ll sleep easier knowing I haven’t stooped to his level.

  He chuckles. “Yeah, well, maybe I deserved it.”

  “Why do you keep calling me?” I ask, itching to be done with the call.

  “I want us to go together tomorrow night,” he says.

  “What?” Is he seriously saying this?

  “Spring Fling. Let’s do it. We planned it and so I think we should still go.”

  “What about Taryn? You’re dating her now.”

  “Not officially. She’s a little too fucked up for me.” Nice. I can only imagine the things he’s said about me to Taryn. “Are you still there?” he asks.

  “Yeah, but…” I pause a second and really think it through before adding, “I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever.” I hear him inhale sharply, sucking air through his perfect mouth. With that, I hang up.

  Downstairs, I find my mom sitting in the kitchen, peeling an orange.

  “How’d it go?” she asks.

  “He said we should go to the Fling together.”

  “And…?” She pours herself a glass of Pellegrino and adds a little juice from the orange to it.

  “I said no.”

  “Well, you don’t have to go with a date, do you? You can go with your friends.”

  I shrug. We sit there for a second. Then I say, “I told him I didn’t want to see him again.”

  “Okay, okay,” she says. After a minute she adds, “I did too.”

  “You told Brady that?”

  “No, not Brady.”

  “Who?” I’m confused.

  “Your dad. I told him I wanted to separate. Jeffrey’s filing the divorce papers on Monday.”

  I sit there, too shocked to even speak.

  “I thought for a long time he was the love of my life.” She looks down at her hands, ashamed.

  “Well, he was, right?” I ask softly.

  “Not really. You are.” She smiles at me, trying not to cry. I try not to cry too, but then I tell myself at a certain point, it’s okay if you do.

  MAY 7

  Aunt B and Marc and I were in the middle of dinner when the doorbell rang. It was Noah. He said, “Can I talk to your aunt, please?” My aunt came out, and he said without even looking at me, “Hey, Ms. Danner, I was wondering if I could take Maureen to the Spring Fling, if that’s okay with you?” My aunt was like, “If you’re not proposing marriage, then I think it’s fine if you just ask her yourself.” He looked at me and I was just kind of standing there and he said, “Well?” I shrugged yes and he said something about picking me up on Saturday at seven. When I walked him to the door, I said, “Are you sure you can be seen in public with me?” and hadn’t he been talking about going with Kayla Lee? He said he didn’t have anything in common with her, not that she was a bad person or anything, but the other day in Geometry 2 he saw two girls who he would have never guessed in a million years hung out together and it made him realize you never know who your friends could be. Then Marc walked by and whistled at us and I think Noah got embarrassed and I told Marc to shut the hell up before I punched him and Noah kissed me really fast on the cheek and left. I ran to my room and that’s where I’m writing this now.

  A Necessary Evil

  I’m putting on Revlon eye shadow

  and Jenna is trying to tell me

  about some prom she went to when she was my age

  and it’s a really long story

  that involves ruffles and

  a foreign-exchange student named Karl.

  Thank God the doorbell rings.

  I open the door, and there’s Tabitha.

  Okay, bye! I say to Jenna.

  We’re going to
get dressed at Tabitha’s house.

  I grab Tabitha’s arm and try to rush out,

  but Jenna says, What’s that?, pointing to the red dress

  over Tabitha’s arm.

  It’s for Elodie. I got it from Betsey Johnson, Tabitha says.

  No way! I say. I can’t believe it.

  Wait! Jenna blurts. I have the perfect thing to go with it!

  She dashes upstairs

  and Tabitha looks at me. Whoa. High energy.

  I shrug. She eats a lot of kale.

  Jenna runs back downstairs with a silver necklace

  and hands it to me, all proud.

  It’s got a big, sparkly pendant

  and it’s something my mom would have never worn,

  but then again, my mom wasn’t super stylish.

  Ooh, I love it, Tabitha says

  as Jenna fastens it around my neck.

  She tells me I look beautiful

  and maybe she isn’t half wrong.

  She takes a picture of us as we walk out,

  to show my dad when he gets home later,

  and before we go, I stop and say,

  Thanks for the necklace,

  and Jenna grins, really happy,

  until Tabitha adds: Don’t worry.

  Even though she’s a shoplifter,

  I’ll make sure she gives it back.

  MAY 11

  Noah arrived at exactly 6:50 to get me. He wore a black suit with a blue tie. It didn’t exactly match my purple dress, but that’s okay. He gave me a flower bouquet instead of a corsage, which is cool, because having a clump of flowers on your wrist all night seems annoying. I got him a red rose boutonniere to wear. When he first saw me, he said, “WHOA. You look awesome.” And I actually felt pretty. It was like I couldn’t stop smiling, even though it was for an idiotic tradition. And my aunt made us pose for pictures, a ton of them. She kept saying how proud she was of me. All I know is the lady has a thing for taking photos, but I also know I’m not going to regret having a keepsake or two.

  TABITHA’S HOUSE

  I take Elodie through the living room, which has stopped being redecorated for the time being because my mom “put the project on hold.” Still, everything looks perfect. Lilies are on the mantel and in the kitchen. My dad never liked flowers because of his allergies, but now that he’s moved out, they’re everywhere.

  “I love your house so much,” Elodie sighs.

  “We might not be here much longer.”

  “Really?” She’s surprised.

  “My parents are getting separated.”

  “Wow.” Elodie takes note of my face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I am.” And I mean it. Except for the fact that there is an annoyingly giant vase of dahlias on the bathroom counter that I have to move every time I brush my teeth, everything is exactly the way it should be.

  When we get to my room, Elodie looks at all the piles of clothes and snow globes and frames and perfume bottles on the floor. “Is this all your loot?”

  I nod. “I’m getting rid of some of it.”

  “Why? Look how much good stuff there is,” Elodie says, holding up a black winter coat with a white furry collar.

  “I used to make lists of how much everything cost and then add it all up. Seeing the total made me happy. But now it just seems like meaningless numbers. Not to mention, it’s crap I don’t need.”

  “You stole the red dress for me, right?” Elodie studies me.

  I nod. “I think it’s my last time for a while. According to the Jeffrey, the judge is accepting my plea bargain, but if I get caught again, it’ll get put on my permanent record.”

  Elodie stands in the red dress in front of the closet, admiring herself in the full-length. She’s not making any kind of Mirror Face as she does it. She just is who she is.

  She turns and looks at me. “I’ve got to admit, I wouldn’t love this dress half as much if it weren’t stolen.”

  I hand her a pair of silver hoop earrings. “As long as you’re wearing a stolen dress, you might as well complete the outfit.”

  Elodie takes them with a smile.

  “Limo’s here!” my mom calls from downstairs.

  “What?!” Elodie and I look at each other, excited.

  “It’s an Ecolimo!” she calls up. “It runs on corn!”

  Elodie laughs. “Your mom’s awesome.”

  I nod in agreement. She’s right. We gather up our stuff, put on lip gloss, and go to the Spring Fling.

  Wallflower

  Where once I would have felt like a wallflower,

  loitering outside the bathroom,

  now I’m a girl simply waiting for a friend.

  Rachelle passes me with Dustin Diaz

  and gives me the world’s most pitying look.

  But pity doesn’t have thorns anymore

  because it doesn’t exactly apply.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marc

  and some of his friends walk in.

  They’re not really dressed up,

  but somehow he’s managed

  to make himself even more handsome,

  which makes Wallflower Me want to run and hide

  because that’s what wallflowers do.

  I try to shrink out of his way

  or turn around or something,

  but it’s pointless.

  He steps right in front of me and says,

  You look nice.

  Thank you, I reply,

  looking into his brown brown eyes.

  I go from being an ordinary rhododendron

  to a hot-pink dahlia,

  from a former wallflower

  to a blossom that’s alive

  in the world

  again.

  OLD FRIENDS

  I come out of the bathroom stall and see Kayla at the sink putting on lip gloss. I almost bolt, but I decide that would make me look like an asshole.

  “Hey, Kayla,” I wave awkwardly.

  “Oh, hey,” she says warily when she sees me.

  I quickly turn on the water, preparing to get out of there as quickly as possible. I pump soap into my palms. It’s that kind of soap that’s made of sandy little granules that scratch your hands. So much for Spring Fling being a high-class event.

  “Hey, Tabitha, I wanted to ask you something,” Kayla says, turning to me.

  I know what’s coming and I can’t deal with it. I hold up a hand. “Um, I don’t want to gossip about Brady and Taryn or anybody else. I think they’re assholes and I know you’re going to try to get in the middle of it, but I’ve got to go. Have a good night.”

  I turn to go, but she stops me. Oh God. This is going to be awkward and awful.

  “Seriously, Kayla, I’m leaving,” I say firmly.

  “No—I just wondered…” She drops her voice. “Do you have a tampon?”

  “A tampon?” I’m so confused.

  “I just got my period. Can you believe it? Again! It’s like I’m haunted by the gods of menses or something.” She waves a hand in front of her dress. “And I’m wearing white!”

  I can’t help it. I start laughing. She looks hurt for a second. “No, I’m sorry!” I say. “It’s just—you’re funny.”

  “I’m not funny. I’m bleeding!” she wails. “As if it weren’t bad enough that Noah decided at the last minute to come with someone else. Spring Fling sucks!”

  “Wait here,” I say. “I’ll go find something.”

  I pass Elodie, but she’s so busy talking to Marc, she doesn’t even notice. As I pass Keith Savage cuddling with Zoe Amato, I hear Zoe say, “What’s Tabitha running around about?”

  “Maybe she’s having fun,” Keith responds.

  “I am, actually,” I call back over my shoulder. They look at me kind of weird, but who cares? I beeline toward Ms. Hoberman, who is grooving on the sidelines to the band’s fairly unpleasant cover of “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It).” When I explain my request, she says, “Oh, of course!” because she
got a degree in education to prepare for stuff like this.

  “Oh, my gosh, thank you so much,” I say as she digs through her purse.

  “So, have you ever thought about writing for the school blog?” she asks as she continues to root around.

  “Not really…”

  “Well, you should. We need talented writers to contribute, even just once or twice a week. It can look good on a college application…?”

  “I don’t know….” I’m starting to get anxious. Why didn’t I ask someone else for a tampon?

  “You can write under a pseudonym if it would make you more comfortable,” she suggests.

  I think about it for a second, then I realize, why not? What have I got to lose? And, more important, what have I got to hide?

  “No, I could probably write it as myself,” I say. “Yeah. I could totally do that.”

  She beams at me, then announces, “Ta-da!” and triumphantly pulls out an organic cotton tampon. I take it from her and run back to the bathroom, where I find Kayla with a pile of paper towels, trying to fold them into a panty-size bundle.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say. “Use this. It’s cruelty-free.”

  She snatches it out of my hand, practically collapsing with relief.

  “Oh my God, Tabs,” she says, exhaling and hugging me. “You saved my life.”

  “Anytime,” I say with a smile.

  She looks at me. “I’ve been waiting to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “You’re into Patrick Cushman, aren’t you?”

  I shrug, trying to be noncommittal.

  “Well, I think he’s really nice. And weirdly superhot,” she says with a genuine smile. “I think you should go for it.”

  “You do?”

  “Totally!” She gives me a thumbs-up and I head out of the bathroom, realizing that sometimes all it takes to reunite old friends—maybe not forever, but at least for a night—is a chance encounter, a dose of advice, and a tiny piece of feminine protection.

  MAY 12, 3:25 A.M.

  At first the dance was kind of awkward, but fortunately we got a table where all five of us could sit. It’s bizarre trying to make chitchat with everyone on their best behavior. Especially when one of the people is your brother. But then fortunately he broke the ice and told some stupid story about the time I dislocated his elbow when we were wrestling in junior high, which seemed to make everyone laugh. Noah leaned over and said, “That’s so you,” and I guess he’s right. But now, being in a dress at the dance is me too. Who says you can’t be both?