Making Bad Choices

by Rita Stradling

  I bit my lip, considering. “I’m doing surprisingly okay, Dad. I kind of feel bad about that sometimes, though. Like, maybe I should be a much bigger wreck.”

  He pulled me into a hug. “You sure you’re not just used to functioning with your grief? That’s what Jen suggested, and it makes sense to me.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. I think about her a lot. . . about what she’d think and say.” A tear hit my cheek and I wiped it off.

  “She’d say that she’d want you to be making friends and feeling happy.” He kissed my forehead. “You are making your own friends and not just hanging out with Culter’s crowd, right?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “But I guess the people I’ve felt closest to are Tyler, Spencer, this girl Zoe . . . and Culter, of course.”

  “Culter? That’s surprising.” His voice matched his words, he sounded surprised.

  “Yeah, we’ve been really getting along.” I stopped there, not wanting to trip up. Yet, I also wanted to pave the way for me and Culter to hang out often with it not being weird.

  “Well, that’s good you two are getting along, makes everything around here a lot easier.” Those were his words, but his tone didn’t sound all that believable.

  “So. . .” I looked for a way to change the subject, “Jen is going to be a couple days?”

  As my father answered about when and how Jen was coming home next week, my mind couldn’t help but drift to the clear, unspoken aversion that both Culter and my dad communicated for each other in the very few minutes that we’d been home. And where was Culter? He’d just walked away. Not only had he just walked away, I hadn’t even noticed.

  “You ready?” my dad asked.

  I blinked at him. “Huh?”

  “Dinner? You ready for dinner, honey? I made spaghetti.” He gestured over to the stove. “Joshie already ate because he was starving, but I thought you and I could sit down and eat a little.”

  “What about Culter?” I asked, looking back.

  “He’ll just come through and eat whenever.” He shrugged.

  “Oh,” I looked back, “Can I take a shower, first? Is that okay? I stink.”

  “Of course, honey. We can just nuke it when you’re ready.”

  Walking the length of the hall, I followed the sound of Joshie’s voice down to Culter’s room. The door stood slightly open, so I leaned in through the door.

  The room held few possessions, aside from a bookshelf full of books. An open textbook spread across Culter’s desk, and Joshie sat in front of it, his elbow on the open pages. Culter stood at his closet, hanging up his coat as Joshie told the details of a movie, probably the R-rated one.

  Culter looked over, his blue eyes finding mine.

  Leaning forward into his doorframe, I whispered, “You hungry?”

  He shook his head, which I found hard to believe. That boy was always hungry after his practice.

  Joshie just kept talking, likely not even realizing I was here.

  “You okay?” I whispered next to Culter.

  His eyebrows rose and he nodded. Again, though, I doubted it.

  Standing, I waved and walked out into the hall. My situation was even more complicated than I thought, and I had already thought that I’d landed myself in a clusterfuck.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “She’s done, Ms. Hamilton!” Tyler yelled as I blew on the ink of our last sketch.

  Ms. Hamilton rushed through Zoe, Jasmine and Jeff who all stood above Michael, talking over each other at him. She called out over the crowd, “Okay, give it to me! I’ll run to scan it in . . . the ink will dry on the way. How are you on setting it up digitally?”

  “Almost there,” Tyler said as he turned back to our shared computer stall.

  She took the sketch and looked it over. “Great, guys! I really didn’t think you were going to make it on time.”

  “It helps when you don’t sleep,” I said, grinning tiredly up at her.

  “I hope you’re joking, you need your sleep. Okay, I am off; I’ll be right back.”

  She rushed out the door with our final sketch.

  “I didn’t think we were going to get that done today either,” Tyler mumbled as he increased the brightness on the frames we already had up on PhotoDesign.

  “You think I’m joking about not sleeping, but I’m so not.”

  It took me only a few hours on Tuesday night to realize that my newfound sleeping powers were entirely dependent on having a beautiful boy’s arm thrown over me through the night. But, on the upside, sleeping two hours a night gave me time to not only finish the sketches—I also was ahead in both Math and World Lit.

  Speaking of that beautiful boy, Culter walked into the computer lab, his gaze scanning the frantic group and finding me.

  I raised my hand in a wave.

  He paused and nodded toward the door. “Josh,” he mouthed across the room.

  “Crap! What time is it?” When I checked the clock above him, I learned that if I didn’t hurry my ass up we were definitely going to be late to pick up Joshie.

  Jumping up, I zipped up my backpack. “Damn it, Tyler. I screwed up. We have to go get Josh.”

  He leaned into the screen, face glowing in the glare, his mind only seeming halfway with me. “No, you’re good, Cassie. I have this editing stuff, go ahead.”

  “Thanks! See you at break tomorrow!” I rushed through the room to the door.

  Culter waited for me in the hall, looking on the tired side himself. “Intense in there,” he said, leaning in a little. The words were friendly, small talk really, but when his blue eyes met mine, a rush of tingles burst throughout my body.

  “I guess it’s like this every Thursday.”

  “Hey, Cassie?” someone called from behind me, and when I turned to look, Michael stepped out of the classroom, catching up to us.

  “Crap, did I forget something?” I asked, pausing.

  “No, uh, do you have a second?” Michael ran his hand through his hair, and still, even after like the tenth time I talked to him, I couldn’t get over the Max resemblance.

  I pointed back at Culter, who’d stopped a little way up the hall. “We’re late to pick up our little brother.” God, those words turned my stomach. They were true, mostly true, we did share a half brother. But, saying it like that just sounded so sibling-like . . . which we really, really weren’t.

  “Oh, yeah.” His hands went into his pockets. “Can I just ask one quick question?”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  “I know it’s pretty early, but do you have a date for Winter Ball? I was thinking of going this year, and I hear you bake, thought I could get some and we could have fun, you know. I thought it’d be cool.”

  The image of me and Max making out popped into my head, and that really did turn my stomach. Weirdly, that would be like kissing my brother. I was so terminally fucked inside.

  I inhaled deeply and gave him an apologetic expression. “That sounds so awesome, Michael, and I so would say yes, but Tyler already twisted my arm into taking him because he wanted to go hit on senior ladies.”

  Michael nodded slowly, not looking all that crestfallen, which was good. “Smart guy.” He grinned. “So, sounds like you’ll have a couple dances free.”

  I nodded, and stepped back toward Culter. “I’ll definitely save you a dance, Michael. Thank you for asking me.”

  “Cool, I’ll look forward to that, Cassie.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Better get back in there before Zoe decides to kill me.”

  “See you tomorrow in gym,” I called over my shoulder as I rushed to meet a smirking Culter.

  When we’d made it down the stairs and to the empty halls beneath, he leaned in a little. “Did you just make that all up off the top of your head?”

  “Not exactly. Tyler made it up, said he saw into my future and had a solution for me.”

  “Cassie, anyone could see that future for you. Michael is only the first.”

  “Tyler says there are three, an
d he wrote them down for me on a note that I can’t open until at least two ask. If he’s right, I have to take him so he can hit on girls with dates. It sounds like a disaster to me.”

  Culter only nodded, and he didn’t say anything until we’d trudged through the freezing lot and were safely in his car. As he turned the keys in his ignition, he peered over at me. “You shouldn’t go to Winter Ball with Tyler.”

  I rolled my eyes. “First, I’m not planning to go at all. And second, if I did, why shouldn’t I go with Tyler? You know we’re just friends. And, I obviously can’t go with you.”

  “It’s not that . . .” he trailed off, not continuing as he pulled back out of the spot. Halfway through town, en-route to Bulvin Elementary, Culter said, “Tyler’s life is complicated, Cassie.”

  His words didn’t surprise me. I had been getting that feeling since last Sunday. It wasn’t just that one morning, Tyler asked Culter if he could come over almost every day at some point. I’d overheard Culter more than once asking Jake or Spencer to take Tyler over to their house. But it wasn’t like him having a shitty home life would scare me off from being his friend.

  “He’s the one who made all this up, Culter; I’m not pressuring him to go. But also, I’m not going to tell him that I won’t hang out with him because of the fact his life is complicated, either.”

  “I’m not saying that, Cassie.” He looked over, thoughts so heavy I could see them in his eyes. “At school and at parties and stuff, that’s all good. But at a dance like that, his mom would probably be able to find out who he’s going with. That wouldn’t be good for Tyler or you, or any of us.”

  “So, it’s me?” I asked, shocked.

  “It’s your dad . . . and my mom, and my dad.” He shook his head. “It’s just complicated. They fucked our lives up so bad, and Tyler is the one who has to pay the price,” he muttered the last part.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I glared.

  “It doesn’t—” He shook his head. After a second, he reached across for my hand, and when I reluctantly gave it to him, he threaded our fingers together. “Cassie, I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just telling you that things are more complicated than you understand. Our parents all grew up together, you know that, right? And there’s a lot of bad blood. Tyler’s mom is a fucked up bitch, but she’s what he has to deal with for the next eight months until he’s eighteen.”

  “So, she hates me because of Jen and Dad? And I have to tell Tyler that I can’t take him to the dance because his mom hates my dad?”

  Culter turned into the empty parking lot surrounding the old brick schoolhouse. With snow frosting the roof, it looked almost picture perfect. He shifted into park, but left the engine running. “I’ll go in to get Josh, no reason for us both to.” He hopped out, letting in a quick burst of cool air.

  I watched his jacket shift back and forth as he walked up the front steps and through the main doorway of the school. The moment he disappeared from view, a realization smashed into me: Culter was protecting Tyler from me. Somehow, I was putting Tyler at risk in his eyes. Founded or not, that didn’t make me feel very good.

  Culter was probably just thinking crazy Culter thoughts. It was hard to believe that Tyler’s mom could hold that much of a grudge against the daughter of the husband of the woman who left her brother. Like, really? But then at the same time, I obviously didn’t know shit about Tyler’s situation and Culter probably knew everything.

  Pulling out my phone, I pulled up Tyler’s number. For some reason, I wanted to text him. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, to tell him that no matter what, I’d be there for him. . . all of it sappy shit that would just alienate my newfound, future-best-friend.

  I scrolled to the one thing that would in this moment make me feel better, my MLMC playlist, and looked down at the four songs on it. Both yesterday and today, as per usual now, I’d had a new song written on my playlist at math and in my phone when I checked at lunch. The first song was one I’d never heard before, The First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes. I didn’t know it when I first saw it, but as it’d played on repeat in my earphones as I drew all night, I knew it by heart now. The new song was one I already knew, I Melt with You by Modern English, but I foresaw that I’d be listening to it on repeat in my long sleepless hours after everyone went to bed. I pressed on the song, hearing the familiar opening chords and lyrics. It had always been one of Charlie’s favorites, so I’d never thought of the words as sweet, but they were.

  The door opened to the school and Joshie rushed out of the front doors, tethered by Culter’s hand in his. They walked down the steps together, Joshie’s head turned up to Culter’s, his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear what he said. Culter nodded slowly, obviously listening to what Joshie said while watching for cars coming simultaneously. Culter took Joshie to his side and I turned off the song right before he opened the door. Culter smiled over at me before sliding his seat forward so Joshie could climb into the back.

  “Cassie!” Joshie yelled, throwing his arms around me and my headrest.

  “Hey, Joshie. How was school?” I asked.

  “I have so much to tell you.” As he said this, he squeezed me around my neck.

  “Okay, let go and I’ll listen,” I said, my voice strained from lack of oxygen.

  “Get your seatbelt on.” Culter closed the door of his truck, immediately warming the cab ten degrees.

  I leaned in toward him. “Tyler and I going to the Winter Ball, it’s mostly just a joke.”

  He nodded and looked at me with an expression that made me feel that he wasn’t at all mad, but I couldn’t completely read it either. “Let’s talk about it later?”

  Joshie did have a lot to tell me about his day; to be precise, the details of his day took the whole car ride home, the walk into the house and halfway through the Chinese food leftovers from yesterday. Actually, what ended Josh’s recount of his day was my phone ringing.

  “Sorry, Joshie,” I said as I jogged across the kitchen and down the hall to my room. Unzipping my backpack quickly, I answered my phone just as it played its final tones. “Dad?” I asked, seeing his face on the screen.

  A high-pitched buzzing sound reverberated through the phone as he spoke. “Hey honey, you there? I get terrible reception out here.”

  “I’m here, Dad.”

  “Okay, good. So, I’m so sorry to do this but it looks like I have to stay at the hospital all night.”

  “At the hospital?” I asked because I thought that was what he said, but the buzzing was so loud I wasn’t sure.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry!”

  “It’s fine, Dad. We’re all good here. Joshie is eating, he had a good day.”

  “Oh, good and . . .” and then he cut out before the word, “Day?”

  “I didn’t hear that, Dad.”

  “Oh, sorry. You know I should probably go . . .” he cut out again, and then he said, “Tomorrow evening.”

  “Okay, Dad,” I said. As I hung up, I sat back on my bed. My dad wasn’t coming home tonight. Joshie would be going to bed in three hours. Culter and I would be pretty much alone in the house, again. A question sung through my mind: would I dare?

  I couldn’t. There were too many risks—Joshie could wake up, or Dad could come home, or the house could burn down. I didn’t know, but I knew it was a very, very bad idea.

  Taking a deep breath, I reentered the kitchen to find Culter and Joshie finishing up their Chow Mein.

  I tossed the phone between my hands. “So, Dad . . . I mean Joshie’s and my dad has to work tonight.”

  “It’s okay, Cassie, Dad does this a lot, you don’t need to be worried,” Joshie said.

  I took my seat next to him. “Thanks, Joshie. You have food all over your face, you know.”

  “Oh.” He wiped his face off on his shirt.

  “Gross,” Culter said, laughing.

  Slowly, I peered over to him across the table, but he just gave me a small smile before looking back to Joshie and thro
wing a napkin at him.

  “Try this next time,” he said.

  “Can I watch TV?” Joshie asked, but in a tone that made me think he was trying to get away with something.

  “Do you have homework?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “Then do it, Joshie.”

  “But Culter’s the one watching me for realies. Culter can I watch TV then do my homework?”

  “Nope,” Culter said, hiding a smirk behind a big bite of noodles.

  “Fine!” Joshie said, stomping away from the table.

  “Yo! Take your plate!” Culter called after him, making Joshie stomp back, pick up his plate, set it in the sink, and then stomp off again.

  Culter kept eating, almost looking bored, but under the table, his foot slid along mine.

  Covering my face with my hands, I whispered, “You’re going to drive me crazy. I think I’m already crazy, and it’s your fault.”

  His foot hooked behind my ankle and tugged, gently. “You’re not crazy. I’m not crazy. We’re not crazy together.”

  That I could argue him all night on. All. Night. God, those words scared and, at the same time, fascinated me.

  Joshie approached, stomping, and I pulled my feet away from Culter’s. My hunger completely evaporated. As Joshie crashed down with his backpack, I stood up with my plate.

  “I’ve got my own homework to do,” I said as I crossed the kitchen. I wanted to get all my homework done by the time Joshie was fast asleep.

  It was a fact now: I was officially shit at making decisions.

  Stopping just inside my room, I leaned up against my door and decided: Culter and I would hang out, nothing more, nothing that would look weird if anyone walked in. Feeling a lot better about myself, I sat back on my bed and rushed to finish my week’s load of homework.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The doorbell rang just as I was finishing my math homework. A small pang of disappointment hit me as the thought that my dad was coming home tonight pushed through my mind, but then I realized that my dad wouldn’t ring the doorbell.