BFF Breakup (mix)

by Taylor Morris

  “Hey, about the other day at lunch.”

  A smile crept across her face, but she kept her eyes on the clothes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I figured you might put a stop to it. Besides, this way you can honestly say you had nothing to do with it.” She looked at me, her round, wide eyes full of false innocence, and said, “You’re clear. Don’t worry about it. And don’t bother thanking me.”

  “I wasn’t going to thank you,” I said. “That wasn’t cool, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know, totally not cool.” When she saw I wasn’t smiling like she was, she dropped her shoulders and said, “Oh, come on, Madeline. I’ve seen what that jerk has done to you. You get more depressed every day, even if you think we don’t notice. I had to do something for you, to show her that she’s not going to ruin everything for you. You don’t need her.” Susanna looked at me with such sincerity that I started to believe what she said. She was being the best friend she knew how to be, even if it was by doing things that were mean.

  She went back to searching for the perfect dress. “Hey, I have a surprise for you. My mom got us an appointment at her salon. We can totally get our hair done for the dance, then Natalie and Julia can meet us at my house and we can do our makeup and get dressed and stuff. Then we’ll all spend the night at my house. Sound good?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Sounds fun.”

  “Oh my god,” she gasped. “This one.” She held up a Tiffany-blue chiffon dress, layered, with an asymmetrical neckline. “So you.”

  I wasn’t sure, but I ended up buying it anyway.

  Friday after school, we told Julia and Natalie to be at Susanna’s by 6:00 and we’d leave for the dance at 7:15. (It started at 7:00.)

  Susanna’s mom dropped us off in front of the salon where we were getting our hair done. It was a swank place in an area of shops called the Brentwoods.

  “I’ll pick you up at 5:30!” her mom said with a wave of her diamond-and-gold-covered hand. She pulled away in her white Cadillac. As Brooke would say, it was old-school glam.

  Before we went inside, Susanna stopped me. “Look, I’m sorry about the necklace thing. I thought it would be funny, but I don’t want you to be mad at me about it.”

  “It’s okay.” I was mad but I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say.

  “You can have my mom’s stylist, Arnold,” she said. “He really is amazing.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I mean, you don’t have to. He’s your mom’s stylist.”

  She took the ends of my hair in her hands, looking them over. “He’s really good, but if you take him, you have to listen to him. Okay?”

  I shrugged. “Fine. Whatever he wants.”

  But as it turned out, what Arnold wanted was short—just like I’d always wanted. Just like I’d always talked about with Brooke. I was happy to know that the cut I’d wanted for so long, but didn’t have the guts to get, was perfect for the shape of my face (as Arnold said), but something dropped to the pit of my stomach, knowing that I was doing this without my best friend.

  “What do you think, sweetie?” Arnold asked, his scissors at the ready.

  I thought of Brooke’s reassuring words to me over the last few months: that I’d look great no matter what I did to my hair, and that if I didn’t like it, it’d grow out in no time. I looked at Susanna, hoping for some of this reassurance.

  “Madeline,” she snipped. “Tell him!”

  I looked at my face in the mirror, my stupid pointed chin as sharp as an arrowhead. It was just hair. And I didn’t need someone to hold my hand at the salon like some baby.

  I looked at myself in the mirror, straight in the eyes, and said to Arnold, “Cut it off.”

  “Oh my god, you look amazing!” Natalie and Julia squealed when they showed up at Susanna’s to get dressed. They both touched the short ends of my hair, still all one length but just under my ears now. I actually kind of liked it, but still felt guilty, thinking of Brooke every time I felt the bare back of my neck. All the girls looked glam with extra curls and volume. Susanna had her hair in a loose, messy bun that looked like something out of a magazine. I was pretty sure she was the only one of us who could pull it off and she looked great.

  Once we were all dressed and headed back to school, I felt slightly better about everything. That’s what I told myself, anyway. I had actually resorted to having conversations with myself in my head. You’re surrounded by friends who really like you and want to take care of you. You have a new dress and a stellar new haircut. You’re going to a junior high dance. What could possibly be bad about tonight?

  When we got inside, I was disappointed to find that everything looked pretty similar to our end-of-the-year dance at elementary school, maybe a bit nicer. Lights swirled, a DJ played decent music, most people stood around the edges of the dance floor with the exception of Chris, who was standing in place, moving his arms out to his sides in jerky motions, followed by his head, then his waist. His feet and legs never moved. We stopped and watched him for a moment, but he soon left the dance floor. I guess he wasn’t feeling the music just yet.

  “We have to find Derek,” Susanna said. “You have to dance with him. I really think he likes you.”

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Hello, he sat next to you at the movies last week. And I totally saw him looking at you this week at lunch.” I couldn’t help but think of Brooke, and just then Susanna said, “Do not get that mopey face and think about her.”

  “Seriously, Madeline. Forget her,” Julia said, and Natalie nodded in agreement.

  “Where are the decent guys?” Susanna asked. “I want to dance to at least three fast songs and two slow.”

  “Definitely,” the girls agreed, and I started to wonder if they ever had an original thought.

  This dance didn’t have refreshments like last year, and I guess serving punch and cookies was a little babyish. We scoped out the scene and I watched as a group of girls moved out on the dance floor. I thought of dancing with Brooke last year and how we didn’t care what people thought of us. Susanna and the girls just stood back and watched, too cool to go out there without a guy and too intimidated to go out there on their own.

  A song came on that I loved, perfect to dance to with your friends, and I said, “Come on, let’s go dance!”

  Natalie and Julia looked a bit panicked, and Susanna kept scanning the crowd, which had grown considerably since we got there. “I don’t like this song,” she said.

  Frustrated and feeling stupid for standing around at a dance, I stepped into the dance area, which the lurkers and non-dancers had all formed a nice perimeter around. “Come on,” I said, smiling to them. “Who’s with me?” I started bouncing on my feet, wiggling my hips as best I could. I tried to look as enthusiastic as I wanted to feel, and I reached out my hands toward all three of them. “It’s fun!”

  Susanna gave me a slightly humored look, then continued scanning the crowd. Suddenly her expression changed. “Oh my god!” She grabbed my hand, pulling back off the perimeter. “There’s Derek!”

  We all turned to look across the gym. He stood with a group of his friends looking casual and so cute in a button-down shirt with no tie. When he laughed he sort of tossed his head back, and he kept his hands buried in his pockets.

  “You have to ask him to dance, next slow song,” Susanna said. “If you don’t I will never talk to you again.”

  Dancing with a cute guy seemed like a simple task that I could accomplish. It didn’t involve anything but the two of us and that seemed like a nice thing just then. No one else to worry about. Soon enough, a slow country-pop song came on, the singer’s sweet voice singing about not being sorry when you should be. I swallowed hard as the girls pushed me in Derek’s direction. I felt myself walking toward him, almost like I was out of my body. He looked around the gym as one of his buddies broke off to ask a girl to dance. As I got closer to Derek, I passed Brooke, who was not too far from him, and my breath caught. All I saw was
her face—wide eyes, mouth slightly open, staring at me as if I was supposed to be dead or something. I passed her without a word.

  I stood before Derek, my heart racing, wondering just what I thought I was doing. What if he said no? How did guys do this all the time? It felt awful.

  “Hey,” I said. I knew I just had to spit it out. “Wanna dance?” Then I remembered to smile.

  He smiled back. “Sure.” He took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

  He held my hand lightly in his, then put his other one around my waist and I put my hand on his shoulder. He leaned in a bit, his cheek next to mine but not touching. I closed my eyes, listened to the music, smelled Derek’s soapy smell, felt his rough hand in mine, and let everything else melt away. Everything was perfect for a moment. He held my hand a little tighter and pressed on my lower back, pulling me closer. By the time the song wound down, I slid open my eyes and saw Brooke, forcing her way across the gym and out the doors. Just like that, she was back in my thoughts.

  28 BROOKE

  I SLAMMED THROUGH THE DOORS OF THE bathroom, trying to hold myself together. I don’t know why I was surprised or why it brought tears to my eyes. Maybe something about the finality of it. We’d always said that when she cut her hair I’d be there to back her up. Now she’d done it without me . . . with her new friends. When would I start believing we were never going to be friends again—ever—and all the things we’d planned to do together would never happen? When would I get to the point where she was just some girl I used to be friends with, like Mindy had said about Shawna? Oh, just some girl I used to know.

  I didn’t want that, though. I also didn’t want to feel like I did right now, standing in a bathroom stall with my hands covering my face, trying not to cry. I couldn’t be friends with her; I couldn’t not be friends with her. So what was I supposed to do?

  I heard girls come and go, laughing, talking, having fun. Corrine and Lily hadn’t seen me leave so they wouldn’t come looking for me. I took a deep breath, pressed my fingers to my face to force any lurking tears back, then came out of the stall.

  I went to the sink and washed my hands, giving myself an extra moment to pull myself together.

  I turned when the door opened again. Madeline stood there, a frightened look in her eyes. My heart jumped. I turned off the water and got a paper towel to dry my hands. I didn’t look at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know. Honestly, I didn’t or I wouldn’t have done it.”

  Finally, here we were talking, doing what I’d been starving for for weeks. Even though part of me wanted to walk right past her and out the bathroom door, I stayed where I was, looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Didn’t know? So now you’re a liar?”

  “I didn’t!” she said.

  “Oh, spare me, Madeline.”

  “I don’t know why I did it,” she said again, and it looked like she might start bawling at any moment, which made me want to cry too. I wondered when I’d run out of tears for her.

  “Because you’re a heartless jerk?” I snapped.

  “I’m not even sure I like him,” she said. “I mean, he’s cute—everyone thinks so—but really, you can have him.”

  “Have him?”

  “I won’t stand in your way. And I won’t bother you anymore. I promise.”

  She started to leave and I said, “Madeline, wait.” She turned back, and I swore I could see her shaking—actually shaking. “Are you talking about Derek? I’m not talking about Derek. God.”

  She seemed to relax for a moment. “You’re not? Then what are you talking about?”

  I pointed to my head, shocked that she didn’t know. “Your hair!”

  Her hand reached back and grasped her now-bare neck. “You’re—you’re talking about my hair?”

  Once I heard myself say it I knew how dumb it was. Mad about her hair? How stupid! But I also knew that it wasn’t about her hair, not in the least. It was about everything else, about friendship and promises and plans together. That’s why I’d freaked out when I saw her new short cut. And Derek? He was the absolute last thing on my mind. Like, seriously. “I don’t care about him.”

  “You don’t?” she asked, seeming to calm down.

  “No!”

  We stared at each other for a moment, each trying to figure out the other’s confusion. And then, at what seemed like the same time, we smiled at each other. The smiles grew to chuckles, which then led to full-scale, bursting-out laughter. Tears were running down my face. The laughing kind of tears.

  “I can’t believe you thought I was talking about Derek!” I gasped through laughter.

  “I can’t believe you’re being so serious over my hair,” she laughed back.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to look serious. “Never joke about your hair.”

  I guess that, after all that had happened between us for the last couple of weeks, for me to finally break down over her cutting her own hair was pretty ridiculous.

  We finally pulled ourselves together, wiping our eyes and checking ourselves in the mirror. Once we cleaned up, it seemed like we didn’t know what to say. What had just happened?

  I threw my paper towels away and we both just sort of stood there for a moment. I wanted to talk to her, to laugh again about something silly. I wanted to instantly be her friend again. But I knew I couldn’t. Things just weren’t that easy.

  Who was it up to to end our fight? Was it even fixable? I wasn’t sure. I certainly wasn’t going to find the answer standing there in the girls’ room, beneath the always-flattering fluorescent lights.

  “Well, I guess I better get back out there,” I finally said, heading toward the door. “Have fun.”

  “Yeah, you, too,” she said.

  Before I walked out the door, I looked at her hair and said, “It looks good like that.” I left before she could respond.

  I found Corrine and Lily in the middle of the dance floor and joined them. I danced the nervous energy out of my body. Lily smiled at me as she did a little spin, and then we made our own circle, the three of us dancing until we finally started to sweat and nothing mattered but the next song. Some guys danced up near us, but we mostly ignored them, preferring to keep to ourselves. We sang along loudly and badly to the songs we knew, holding up fake microphones and waving our hands over our heads. I can honestly say it was the most fun I’d had in weeks.

  Finally, a slow song came on.

  “Thank goodness,” Corrine said. “I’m ready for a break.”

  She started to lead the way off, but a guy I recognized from around the halls, Peter, asked Lily to dance. “Oh!” she said, looking to us. “Um, yeah, okay.”

  Corrine and I leaned back out of her way, mouthing Go Lily! to Peter’s back as she blushed, visible even in the multicolored lights.

  Then someone said my name. A guy.

  “Hey, um. Hey. Want to dance?”

  A smile spread across my face when I saw Chris(topher) standing before me in a black button-down and a red bow tie, which I guessed was fancier than his regular school ties. He looked everywhere but at me, and just to mess with him I said, “You talking to me?”

  He looked me in the eyes and said, “Well, of course. Who else would I be talking to?” When he saw my smile, he calmed down and said, “Oh,” and turned his eyes back down to the floor.

  I stepped toward him and took his hand in mine. He put his other hand on my waist, resting it there lightly. I turned my eyes to look at him as he looked off across the gym, and noticed the way his bottom lip pouted out. I couldn’t believe that I had once kissed it, even if it was only for about two seconds. I supposed he was kind of cute, in a Chris(topher) sort of way. If he’d lose the ties. He turned his head like he might look at me, so I turned my own gaze off to the other side.

  We didn’t say anything the whole time, but I liked the way his hand felt in mine. It wasn’t sweaty like I figured it might be, and he held it just so, as if he didn’t want to let go, but also didn’t want me to
think he liked holding my hand too much.

  When the song ended, he took a step back, then let go of my hand. “Uh, thanks.” He glanced around then looked back at the floor.

  The next song had lots of heavy beats, a hip-hop number I just knew he had to like. “Dude, you should do it,” I said.

  He looked at me. “What?”

  “Get down, you know what I’m saying?”

  “Why are you talking like that?”

  I laughed. “This is your kind of music. Why don’t you dance to it like you like to dance? This is a dance after all.”

  He looked around. “They’ll laugh at me.”

  “Since when do you care? You didn’t that day in the courtyard. You didn’t care last year.”

  “Last year didn’t matter. We’re not kids anymore.”

  I reached for his tie and said, “Actually, Chris, we are.” I tugged at it, but it didn’t come untied like I thought it would. It was a clip on.

  “It’s Christopher,” he said.

  “Not to me it’s not. How do you get this thing off?” I said, trying to see how it worked, while fully aware that my hands were close to his neck and jaw and face.

  He seemed to notice too, because he said, “Here,” and gently moved my hands away. He unhooked it, slid it off his neck, and put it in his pocket. He looked me dead in the eyes, all hazel and meaningful and serious and said, “Better stand back.”

  I pumped my arm. “Yes!”

  It would be impossible to perfectly describe the moves Chris laid out on that dance floor. There was spinning on his back, of course, and his signature worm with an added lift-up onto the points of his toes. He also managed to twist and jerk his body in a way that had the whole school cheering him on. I was right there in the midst, cheering too. Corrine and Lily appeared by my side and we encouraged Chris in his first real solo. As I laughed and clapped my hands to the beat, I looked across and saw Madeline. She was standing with her friends, smiling, but looking at me. I must have just caught her. We both paused, and she smiled brighter, just for me, and nodded her head ever so slightly. In that instant I felt that maybe somehow, things were going to get better.