Love and Leftovers

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Love and Leftovers Page 12

by Sarah Tregay


  I look down at my pajamas.

  I’d been thinking about pancakes

  smothered in maple syrup,

  coffee with a swirl of cream—

  not running.

  I look out the kitchen window.

  And think about the crisp morning,

  wrapped in a blanket of new snow;

  our footprints would be the only ones—

  not a soul in sight.

  “I’ll run,” I tell Danny. “One minute.”

  I pull on sweats and sneakers.

  And we step out into the cold,

  already immersed in conversation,

  about how breakfast will taste better

  once we’ve earned it.

  “And Dad?” I ask. “Sleeping in?”

  “We shouldn’t wake him,” Danny says.

  “I like these runs being just the two of us—

  you and me getting to know one another.”

  “So you don’t mind me complaining?”

  “Not one bit.”

  Report Card

  Dad sits me down

  on the couch

  for a heart-to-heart

  about my grades.

  He wasn’t surprised

  that I had pretty much failed

  my classes here in Boise

  because I had

  spent 99 percent of the semester

  in New Hampshire.

  But he doesn’t want to see Ds

  ever

  again.

  So I Make a Study Date with Katie

  But she doesn’t show up.

  Doesn’t answer her phone.

  So I stomp over to her house.

  “Katie’s at Linus’s practicing,” her mom says.

  My best friend forgot about me?

  And she’s hanging out with my ex-boyfriend!

  I tromp to his place and lean on the bell.

  Linus’s oldest brother answers, baby on his hip.

  “Katie here?” I ask him.

  “Huh?”

  “Katie Raskolnikov? The girl in the band?”

  “Who are you, anyway?”

  “It’s me, Roland. Marcie.”

  “Dammmn,” he drawls in slow disbelief

  as he tilts his head and studies me.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No wonder Linus is totally bummed . . .

  little Marcie’s a hottie.”

  I half ignore him and clomp up the stairs.

  The familiar notes of “Blister in the Sun”

  greet me when I step into the bonus room.

  Ian, Linus, and Katie don’t look up

  from their instruments and Linus starts to sing,

  “When I’m out walking I strut my stuff . . .

  let me go on—” Linus stops midsentence.

  “Big hands I—” Katie cuts the riff.

  “Hi, Marcie,” Linus says.

  “Oh my God!” Katie says.

  “I’m so sorry. I forgot about you.”

  Outside on the Thomases’ Front Steps Katie Reveals

  “It is so hard, for me

  to be in the middle of all of this.

  Linus, Ian, and Angelo

  are all calling you a selfish bitch.

  So I, well, I—

  I haven’t invited you over when they’re over—

  and I can’t invite you

  to hang out at the Thomases’.”

  “Let me get this straight?

  You’ve been hanging out

  with the Leftovers,

  without me?”

  “We have to practice.”

  “For what?”

  “The talent show.”

  I remember them doing that last year.

  “And it’s weird because

  Linus and Emily are

  kinda going out.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “No, I didn’t!” she shouts.

  “He’s going out with Emily,

  calling me a selfish bitch,

  and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Like you told me about breaking up with Linus?

  Like you told me about kissing Prince Harry?

  Like you tell me anything!”

  “I wanted to—”

  “But you didn’t.

  Because you’re a

  selfish bitch!”

  I Gasp

  “Oh God, oh God, oh—”

  I shake her words off of me

  and

  run

  all

  the

  way

  home.

  Katie follows me. I let myself in.

  She pounds on the door. I lean against it.

  “I’m sorry,” she explains.

  “I didn’t mean it.” My shoulders shake.

  “It just came out.” My eyes sting.

  “Please, Marcie?

  I’m sorry.” Sobs choke in my throat.

  She sounds like she

  wants to cry. I bury my cries

  in the crook of my arm.

  She dials her phone. The kitchen phone rings.

  I run to my room.

  I pull my pillow

  over my head.

  The House Is Quiet

  When I wake up my room is dark.

  I can see the red numbers on my clock,

  the purplish glow of the neighbor’s porch light.

  I stumble to the kitchen with the awkward steps

  of a sleepwalker in search of Cheerios.

  I eat them in front of the silent, gray TV, imagining

  myself spilling my guts to millions of viewers

  on a daytime confessional.

  Linus, J.D., and Katie would all be there

  pointing out every terrible thing I have done.

  I couldn’t argue. They’d be right.

  The host would stop for a commercial break.

  “Don’t worry,” he’d say to the camera,

  “we’ll be back with more selfish bitch,

  right after this.”

  That’s How Danny Found Me

  wrapped in a blanket

  with a bowl of congealed cereal

  on my knees.

  “Hey, Marcie,” he said when he came home from work.

  “You don’t look so good.”

  I shook my head,

  wiped my nose on my sleeve.

  He sat on the couch,

  put his arm over my shoulders,

  and pulled me to him.

  Fat tears welled in my eyes

  and fell on his shirt.

  I Tell Danny

  “My friends think I’m a selfish bitch.”

  “Well,” Danny says,

  “selfish isn’t a bad word.

  It means ‘looking out for

  your own interests.’

  And, for how crazy life

  gets sometimes,

  that’s a good policy.”

  “Come on, Danny,

  you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Bitch, though. That’s a tough one.”

  “I cheated on my boyfriend.

  So I guess it fits.”

  “Ah,” he says, like it all makes sense now.

  “The male ego bruises easier than a overripe apricot.”

  “I didn’t mean to do it.

  I was lonely.

  And I didn’t know

  he loved me.”

  “It sounds like both of you got hurt—

  it’ll take some time to get over this.”

  “Daddy says time and love

  cure everything.”

  “Don’t tell Ethan I said

  this, but I think what

  he means is time and understanding

  cure everything.

  It sounds like love started this mess.”

  Loner

  Wednesday,

  I go through the cafeteria line

  and buy myself milk

  and a chocolat
e chip cookie

  to go with the turkey sandwich

  Dad made me.

  Then I find a chair

  at a mostly empty table

  in the corner

  because I can’t stand

  the thought of sitting

  with the Leftovers

  while they call me names

  in their minds.

  Danny Suggested That I Try to Be Understanding

  So, before the bell rings,

  signaling the end of lunch,

  I visit the Leftovers.

  “Em, Linus, I know you don’t need my blessing,

  but I wanted to let you know . . .”

  Emily listens intently

  while Linus pretends not to hear.

  “. . . I’m okay with you two going out.

  I understand that I haven’t been around,

  and even though we just broke up,

  we’ve really been apart for seven months.”

  “You’re not mad?” Em asks.

  “No,” I tell her, Linus, and everyone else.

  “We broke up. I’m over him . . . you.”

  He glances at me when I say “you,”

  then away quickly,

  as if the word stung his cheek.

  “You sure?” Emily confirms.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. You deserve Linus,

  more than I ever did.”

  Eight Seconds Later

  Walking away,

  I knew

  I had said the right thing,

  even if

  Linus looked like

  I dug his heart

  out with a spoon.

  Eight Hours Later

  I feel like shit.

  Being nice sucks.

  I shouldn’t have done it.

  I shouldn’t have gift-wrapped Linus for Emily.

  I should have said,

  “WAIT!

  I’m not finished.

  I’m not done.

  I’ve got hormones pulsing in my veins,

  a broken heart that hasn’t healed,

  lonely arms that need someone to hold,

  and a pair of lips that can’t forget That Kiss.

  I need him.”

  When I Was in New Hampshire

  I wanted to come home.

  But now that I’m home,

  I miss the pine trees, the ocean, the winding roads. . . .

  Okay. I’m lying.

  I miss J.D.

  And Mom.

  Not that Dad isn’t cool about almost everything.

  He’s a really good listener.

  Not that Danny is an eyesore to eat breakfast with.

  He can’t wait to teach me how to drive.

  It’s just really weird getting to know two gay people,

  when I’ve never had any gay friends.

  I guess falling in love feels the same

  for gay couples.

  But I don’t even know

  what falling in love feels like for me.

  Much less anyone else.

  My Best Friend Is Falling in Love

  Katie and Angelo

  look so darn cute holding hands,

  walking to class,

  kissing on the steps,

  and finishing each other’s sentences

  like a married couple.

  I know for a fact

  Katie and Angelo

  have managed to get Sharpie marks

  nearly everywhere.

  I just wish

  Katie and I were talking

  again.

  So I could live vicariously

  and feel what it feels like

  to fall

  in love.

  Mom Calls Me

  “I got so bored in Durham,

  I drove down to Boston,” she said,

  like I didn’t already know

  how boring it is in East Nowhere, New Hampshire.

  “That’s great!”

  “I parked my car at Greta’s and got a T-Pass for the week.

  I’ve been to Newbury Street,

  Faneuil Hall, and Quincy Market.

  The Mary Baker Eddy Library has this Mapparium—

  a three-story glass globe. . . .”

  I hadn’t heard her sound so happy

  since the day we went out for Chinese

  in our party dresses.

  I should have felt happy for her.

  But part of me wished

  I had been exploring Boston with her,

  instead of being here

  when she was there.

  Talented

  I didn’t pay much attention

  to the winter talent show

  posters in the halls.

  I guess

  Katie, Linus, and Ian

  made the cut

  because their band name,

  The Leftover Lovers,

  is in the program

  that the student usher hands me

  when I file into the auditorium

  for a Friday afternoon assembly.

  Four-Letter Words

  Linus has

  L O V E

  written on the knuckles of his right hand

  and

  H A T E

  written on his left.

  Katie has

  O V E R

  written on the knuckles of her left hand

  and

  L E F T

  written on her right.

  Judging from the Roar of the Crowd

  The Leftover Lovers

  just won the winter talent show,

  with a Bowling for Soup cover,

  giving them the honor

  of headlining

  the Saturday night performance.

  (Which means they can play

  an entire set.)

  I clap politely

  as Linus, Katie, and Ian

  hug, jump, and whoop onstage

  but my heart isn’t in it.

  The Saturday Show

  is a sold-out event.

  The auditorium is packed

  with students, family, and friends.

  Carolina, Emily, Olive, and I

  squeeze into front-row seats

  Garrett and Angelo

  saved for us.

  I sit on the end next to Garrett,

  because part of me wants to be one of the Leftovers

  and part of me knows I’m almost unwelcome.

  Although we clap and cheer

  for the other acts,

  we’re really here to hear

  a few Bowling for Soup

  and Violent Femmes covers

  by The Leftover Lovers.

  The curtains open to Ian’s drumroll,

  revealing Katie and Linus

  center stage.

  One mike.

  Linus is in dark jeans, black Converse,

  a hand-me-down Superman T-shirt,

  and the faintest smudge of eyeliner.

  Katie’s wearing a blue button-down, Doc Martens,

  a Catholic schoolgirl skirt over thigh-high stockings,

  and a black garter belt.

  Angelo puts two fingers between his lips

  and whistles.

  Katie flips her pink-streaked hair

  and blows him a kiss.

  The crowd erupts in cheers.

  Linus Looks So Cute

  hiding his nervousness

  behind his bangs

  by pretending to watch

  his fingers work the chords.

  (But I know he can play “Blister” with his eyes closed.)

  Then he looks up,

  shakes his bangs out of the way,

  and sings into the mike.

  I’m not kidding you.

  Girls screamed.

  Midset

  After “Blister in the Sun,”

  they play two Son of Dork songs,

  “Ticket Outta Loserville”

 

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