Smash It!

by Francina Simone

Zora’s shaking a paper in front of my face as I watch Eli put his music in his folder and pick up his stand. “Earth to Olllliiiviaaa.” Zora can be so fucking extra.

  I look at the paper. It’s a sign-up sheet for the flute quartet, and it only has one name on it. Zora’s. I don’t have the time for the quartet this year. I didn’t even like it that much last year. Playing Christmas songs on loop at the mall, or whoever donates to the music program to have us, is a one-way ticket to lifelong insanity.

  “I can’t, Zora. I have musical rehearsals.” There are plenty of other flutes to take my spot.

  She’s looking at me like that’s not a legitimate excuse. “I know. I play in the pit.”

  It’s totally not the same thing but I just say, “Okay,” while packing up my flute. I’ve got my eye on Eli. I want to catch him before he bolts for lunch. I have no idea where he spent it the last few days, even though I followed him once. He changes locations, apparently. “That’s good for you. Maybe you have all the time in the world, but I don’t.”

  “I don’t get it. You’re in the music program, but you’re spending all your time doing theatre stuff. Obviously, the problem is you think you can do it all. Life is about choices, Olivia. Choices.” Zora’s growling at me, and I swear this girl needs some kind of help because she’s kind of tightly wound, but I really don’t have the time for this.

  I get up, shove my flute case in my locker—I don’t even bother taking it home to practice anymore—and corner Eli at his locker. “Can we talk?”

  He’s taking off his glasses and putting them in his case. Locking his locker. Putting his glasses in his book bag—it’s like I’m not even here.

  “You’re just going to completely ignore me? Do I not matter at all to you?” I’m starting to shake. I’ve spent almost six months fighting off a crush that has pretty much consumed me, so this silent treatment hurts more than when we were just friends.

  I’m looking at the frown on his face, wishing I could somehow make him smile. I want to make him happy, and I know that’s not my job. But I care.

  He tilts his head, adjusting his book bag on his back, and then scratches at an eyelash. His eyes flicker to me and then back toward the floor. “Just not worth the time.” And then he moves around me and heads out the door.

  I just stand there, trying to control my breathing, because I’m stuck between following him, wrestling him to the ground and making him hurt as much as I do, and—crying. And I’m trying to blink back the tears because I will not embarrass myself by crying in the band room.

  Dré is in front of me with his book bag over one shoulder. “What did he say to you?” He’s looking at my face, and I can see he wants any excuse to fight. That’s Dré—if he can’t fix something, then he’ll destroy it, but I’m not about to be his partner in crime.

  “Nothing,” I say low, between tight lips. I don’t want anyone to hear the creak in my voice. Hell, I don’t want to hear it because I can barely hold back the tears burning my eyes and nose. I don’t know what’s worse, being humiliated by what Eli said or being embarrassed by how it’s made me feel.

  I swallow the shame. If I really believe it was nothing, then I won’t have to feel like this.

  Dré gently grabs my arm, and I can see it in his eyes that he’s not buying what I’m selling. “I get that he’s upset. But if he makes you cry, it’s over.” He doesn’t say anything else as we head to lunch, and I realize we’re on the verge of World War III again, except I can’t wait on the sidelines until it all blows over. Because now, I’m in it, too.

  Chapter 25

  It’s Christmas break, but that means nothing to the theatre; we have practice three days a week. And we need it; I think we’re giving Mrs. G an ulcer, so I’m not even going to complain.

  I’m riding with Lennox and Jackie during a break to pick up the cupcakes and sandwiches Mrs. G ordered from the grocery store.

  They’re arguing about the jazz Lennox is playing. Jackie says it’s that weird shit her grandma plays real loud when she’s trying to be sexy for her granddad. She’s gagging and begging Lennox to turn it off.

  I need to tell them what happened—I’m surprised Angelina hasn’t already spread it around. I keep waiting for the stares.

  Fuck it. “I slept with Dré.” I blurt it out so I don’t psych myself out again.

  “I told ya ass,” Jackie says to Lennox. She turns around to look at me. “Was it good? Please tell me he laid it down. I got on water-based mascara—I can’t afford to cry over limp dick.”

  Jackie makes it both harder and easier to tell them what happened.

  Lennox looks at me from the rearview mirror. “I told you he was a gentle lover.”

  I want to gag. “Please stop reminding me.”

  “Did you know that there is a matriarchal village somewhere in China where they share men? It’s probably one of the most peaceful and powerful places on earth.”

  Jackie shakes her head. “Bitch, I ain’t sharing nothing.”

  Lennox shoves Jackie back into her seat. “Put your damn seat belt back on.” She looks at me again. “Why you look like that though?”

  I tell them the rest of it. About Eli finding out but not really knowing for sure, and Kai. Lennox rolls her eyes and I’m waiting for the I told you so. It never comes, but she does share a look with Jackie.

  Jackie looks back at me again. “Okay, all transparency. I knew that already. You know Angelina can’t see some shit like that and not say anything.”

  I roll my eyes. Great. “Everybody knows?” I am not in the mood for this. Also—and I really hate this but—I feel dirty. Guilty, like I’ve sullied my good name now that people know I’ve had sex. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s how I feel and I can’t shake it.

  Jackie sucks her teeth. “Girl, you know like half the department has had some sex scandal that involves a lot more than you having sex with your best friend, probably in your room like some fucking ABC Family special.” She’s waving her hands around like she’s batting away my insecurities. “Besides, I only know because she told Rodney, and he’s not telling anybody.”

  I try to ignore how Jackie has guessed correctly how vanilla I am—it’s nothing to be ashamed about but sometimes things just sting—and bring the conversation back to Eli. “Well, as comforting as that is, Eli’s pissed.”

  Lennox is looking at me in the mirror again. “You’re not responsible for Eli’s feelings.” That’s all she says. I wish it were that easy.

  I sit with it for a little while, because I do feel responsible. I know so much of what’s going on and—when I think back on it, he’s been there for me at all my low points, and the one time I was supposed to be there for him, I kind of sucked at it.

  “So,” Lennox says, “this mean you definitely don’t have feelings for Eli anymore?”

  I look out the window. As much as I want to say I don’t, I just—can’t. There is something that has me stuck on Eli, and I wish I could unstick myself, but feelings aren’t that simple. “I don’t know.”

  Jackie lets out a small laugh. “Girl, you are scandalous.”

  We get the food, and I’m carrying the cupcakes back to the car when Lennox grabs both my shoulders. “You are never responsible for someone else’s feelings. Say it.”

  I mumble it back. It doesn’t feel true.

  “Say it louder.”

  “I’m not responsible for anyone else’s feelings.”

  “Ever.” Her dreads look light brown in the sunlight, and I’ve just noticed she’s got a tiny nose piercing. It’s rose gold and almost blends into her brown freckled nose.

  “Ever.” I wish I were as strong as her. She knows everything. She’s kinda kick-ass, and I don’t know where I’d be if we hadn’t partnered in Bio II.

  She hugs me and smells like flowers and fresh air. She really might be a witch.

&n
bsp; * * *

  I place the cupcakes on the table backstage, and after everyone attacks them like mannerless heathens, Cleo lingers by the table and I know she’s going to start.

  “What, Cleo,” I say.

  Angelina’s snickering with her usual group by the wings. They’re sitting in a circle, and I know they’re talking about me, because Javier turns to look at me and snaps his head around really fast when I catch him. Fuck my life.

  Eli’s nowhere to be found, as usual. Don’t know why I care. I need to stop caring so much about everyone else and just focus on myself.

  “I didn’t say anything.” She takes her slow time getting a cupcake. It’s not that hard. Reach in, pick it up, and go. I’m still getting a sandwich when she sighs again.

  “Oh my god, just spit it out already, Aunt Rachel.”

  She cuts her eyes at me. “Don’t call me outside of my name—especially when I haven’t ratted you out.”

  I turn on her. “What is there to rat me out about?”

  Then she rolls her eyes. “Girl, everyone’s talking about how you slept with Dré.”

  I sit my sandwich down. “Cleo. Why the fuck do you care?” I’m at my limit with her morally superior lectures about who I hang out with and how I spend my time with my friends. I refuse to let everyone have an opinion about what I did.

  Cleo’s staring at me, wide-eyed. “I care because you’re my family, and I’m trying to look out for you. Your name is coming up a lot, and you haven’t even been here for a good two months.”

  I shrug. “And. What exactly is your problem, Cleo?”

  She’s staring at me, bug-eyed, and I’m aware that we sound just like our moms, but I really don’t give a fuck because, to be honest, Cleo is a busybody just like nosy, always-has-something-to-say Aunt Rachel. “You want to know what my problem is? You literally just waltzed into my space, haven’t put in any work, and you’re all anybody has been talking about. Everybody knows we’re cousins, so they all come to me to talk about you. Like I have the fucking tea.”

  I’m holding up my hands, saying, “Hold the fuck up,” over and over because I’m still stuck on haven’t put in any work. She honestly thinks I just waltzed into my role. Like I didn’t bust my ass—like I don’t bust my ass in every rehearsal? “I’ve been working as hard as anyone, and I don’t even see why it matters so much to you. You didn’t even try out for a role!”

  It hits me. Cleo is jealous. She joined theatre and hasn’t tried out for a single production because she’s terrified of failing—and she’s taking it out on me.

  Cleo sucks her teeth. “You know what. I’m not doing this with you right now. You’ve clearly taken a page from Jackie’s book, because you’re making a fucking scene.”

  I want to tell her it’s more than what she’s done her whole time in the theatre program, but I stop myself. It’s petty. She doesn’t deserve that. I used to be her. Trapped in the shell of my mother and too timid to do anything that mattered—terrified of what everyone thought of me. She doesn’t even see it, and she won’t until she decides she’s tired of it.

  I just let her walk away and grab my sandwich. Shockingly, she’s right about one thing. I caused a scene, because Angelina’s eating this up.

  She’s got this smirk on her face, and all my petty is coming to the surface. The fact that Eli’s still avoiding me like I have the plague, the fact that everyone is talking about me and my sex life because of this girl who can’t shut her fucking mouth...

  “You,” I say. Now everyone is looking at me, and they know who I’m talking about, because I’m pointing at her. “The reason Dré slept with me and not you is because you’re a pathetic piece of shit who doesn’t know that when a dude leaves you on Read for a week, it means to back the fuck off.”

  “Olivia.” Mrs. G is behind me, and I’ve never heard her say my first name. She always calls me Ms. James.

  I take a breath before I turn around, because I know I went too far, but I’m not ready to admit it. Angelina deserved it. I might be messy, but she’s fucking grimy.

  “Both of you come to my office.”

  Angelina’s slowly getting up, looking around like maybe Mrs. G means someone else.

  Everyone is staring at us, and I still haven’t turned around because I kind of can’t face Mrs. G right now. I just yelled across the room that I slept with Dré.

  He’s staring at me still as stone, in the middle of chewing his food. He’s got this look on his face like I’ve lost it and he wants to swoop in to save me, but there is no coming back from this.

  “Now,” Mrs. G says. I unfreeze and follow her into her office.

  Angelina isn’t looking at me. She’s still looking around like she can’t believe what’s happening, and to be honest, neither can I. I just—saw red. No, that’s a lie, I saw Angelina the bitch who’s been talking about me from day one.

  Mrs. G closes the door and sits in her chair. “Sit down.” She looks between us and takes off her glasses. “I don’t care what’s going on. I don’t want to know. What I want you both to understand is that we, as women, don’t tear down other women.”

  I don’t need this hoorah speech right now. I just want to go home and hide.

  “In this industry, women are objectified, sexually assaulted, and forced to compete against each other for a quarter of the wages they pay a man. You will not disrespect each other in my theatre.” She’s looking at me now. “You owe Ms. Medina an apology. I won’t make you do it, and I won’t hover over you while you do it, because I think it should come from the heart.”

  She gets up and squeezes between her cluttered desk and the bookcase before leaving us in the room alone.

  Angelina’s still not looking at me or talking. She’s just sitting in her chair and breathing like she’s innocent and all of a sudden I’m the Wicked Witch of the fucking West.

  I’m running my finger over my jeans when I say, “Look, I’m sorry I said what I said. It was a bitch move—which I don’t think you’re unfamiliar with.”

  She sits up and scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve never said anything you didn’t already put out there. What you did was beyond low.”

  I want to tell her she’s a shitty person for consistently making me feel stupid. She tarnished a moment that meant a lot to me, yet somehow, I’m the monster for delivering a little bit of the karma she had coming.

  But she’s kind of right. What I did was low. I even dragged Dré into it, and even though I know he’ll shrug it off because people talking about him is normal, it still wasn’t right.

  I turn to Angelina. If I’m going to tell her this, I want her to see my face. “When I got the part for Bianca, you didn’t even know me, but you called me a basic bitch. Before that, I’d never done anything like this. This was—you have no idea what it took for me to get up on that stage, and you really knocked my confidence. And since then, you’ve been talking about me. You even talked about—my first time. Everyone knows something that was just supposed to be between me and Dré.”

  She’s dodging eye contact, and her lips are twitching, so I know she feels bad. But she’s still trying to skirt around it. “It’s not like I was spying on you. I just told Rodney, and I casually mentioned to Cleo what I heard, and they haven’t said anything. You’re the one yelling about it like a fucking drama queen.”

  I just stare at her. “You guys were just laughing at me. I know what I saw.”

  Angelina rolls her eyes. “We were laughing because Cleo was chewing you out and you looked like you were going to throw your sandwich in her face.”

  Chills of horror run across my whole body. I’m such an idiot.

  “But thanks, you literally just told everyone that I’m desperate and pathetic.”

  I keep staring. I don’t think anyone has ever made her own up to her dumpster-fire behavior, because she’s squirming and still dodging
my shaken but steady scrutiny.

  “Look, I’ll just tell Mrs. G you apologized and we can let this go.” She gets up and leaves the room.

  I don’t feel completely vindicated, but I finally got to hold up a mirror to Angelina, and now that she knows who she is, maybe she’ll think twice about using my life for her entertainment.

  When I leave the office, I feel wired.

  Dré’s waiting for me outside the door. Everyone else has already broken up to resume rehearsal. “You okay?” He’s looking at me like I might start firing off again.

  “I’m fine.” I’m not but at the same time I am. There’s nothing I can do about what I did except own it so—whatever.

  He grabs my arm and pulls me into a hug, and I don’t think I’ve ever needed one more.

  Just as I start to feel a little better, Eli walks by.

  Chapter 26

  It should feel like Christmas. All the stores are playing the super festive Christmas songs; the streetlights have trees, menorahs, and sleighs on them. It’s even chilly. I should be in the holiday spirit, but I’m not. I’ve been catching up on work hours and Al’s in New York for the month, so life is both busy and a drag.

  Gloria’s having this Christmas Eve barbecue, and my mom drives us over because she doesn’t walk anywhere. She says if it’s not 60 degrees, she’s driving.

  I still have these cute braids Lennox put in my hair. She even added gold wire around a few, and I look pretty badass. She said I needed an adult hairstyle, since I was acting all grown and telling people off. Some of Dré’s cousins are checking me out, so grown is obviously another word for sexy.

  Dré grabs me something to drink and introduces me to a few of his cousins from Puerto Rico. They’re older and kind of slick. I’m about to tell them I’m jailbait when Dré puts his hand around my waist and asks me to help him in the garage.

  I used to think I was a girl guys passed over. I was wrong. And it’s not just the dress or the hair; I’ve gotten attention like this before. I just always do what I’m doing now—shy away. This kind of focus makes me nervous. I don’t know why I don’t like feeling pretty, but I want to be both hot and completely invisible. It’s the same when Eli calls me cute or Dré looks at me for too long; I freeze and say something stupid to make it stop.