The Year of Living Awkwardly

by Emma Chastain

  Wednesday, March 1

  Tris hasn’t heard from Roy yet, and he’s freaking out. The blow job has his hopes up that they’ll get back together, which seems like wishful thinking to me, but what the hell do I know?

  Thursday, March 2

  Zach came to pick up Hannah from rehearsal today. He had his hair pulled back and was wearing a half-zip sweater and black jeans. He looked confident and grown-up, especially when Hannah went over to him and he kissed her on the mouth like it was no big deal. Grady and Reese walked up too, and the four of them stood together talking and laughing. Meanwhile, Tris was onstage with his arms around Olivia, gazing into her eyes and singing about springtime. I finished putting my stuff in my backpack and headed out to meet Dad. I had to pass Hannah, Zach, Grady, and Reese on my way out. Reese was saying, “My cousin gave me her ID. Everyone says we look like twins, even though she’s 25.” Hannah interrupted her to call, “Good night, Chloe!” I said goodbye without looking over, and hurried outside. Dad wasn’t there yet, so I stood by the curb, feeling the chilly air on my skin, telling myself, There’s no reason to feel sorry for yourself. You’re a straight, white, upper-middle-class person with no actual problems. But my problems do feel real to me, even if they shouldn’t.

  Friday, March 3

  The only thing worse than going to rehearsal and being an anonymous chorus member is not even having rehearsal in the first place, because you’re an anonymous chorus member and it’s not like you have a bunch of scenes and songs to learn.

  Saturday, March 4

  Hannah texted saying she feels like she hasn’t seen me in forever and can I sleep over tonight? I considered pretending to have plans with Tris, but then I realized he’d already posted a picture of himself at the movies with some of the South Pacific sailors, so that lie was out as an option, and in the end I said I could go. Now I’m sitting here procrastinating while Dad waits downstairs to give me a ride. I used to sleep over at Hannah’s house once a week! Mrs. Egan bought a pillow for me so I wouldn’t have to carry mine back and forth! How did things get this bad?

  Sunday, March 5

  Well, that didn’t go too well. Mrs. Egan made dinner, and I could tell from the vibes around the table that she and Mr. Egan know something’s off with me and Hannah.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Mrs. Egan said. “We’ve all missed you.”

  “I’m happy to be here,” I said, like I was a celebrity and Mrs. Egan was a late-night host.

  After dinner Hannah and I went up to her room. I felt nervous, wondering what we were going to do. What did we ever do? Look at our phones together, talk about boys, make up dance routines. It was always easy. We were just hanging out; we weren’t trying to fill the time. But last night Hannah sat on her bed and I sat on her desk chair, and I thought, How are we going to get through all the hours until bedtime?

  “So how are you?” Hannah asked.

  “I’m good! How are you?”

  “Good!”

  Is this what my life was now? A series of vacuous conversations centering around the word “good”?

  “It’s hard to find time to get together, right?” Hannah said. “I guess we’re both really busy.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “South Pacific and school and everything.”

  A little piñata of anger burst in my chest. “Well, and Zach and Reese.”

  She smiled. “Them too.”

  “How’s everything with you and Zach?”

  “So great. I think I might love him. He’s so talented, but he’s not conceited about it. And he’s chivalrous. He holds doors for me and pays for me when we go out. And he already asked me to junior prom!”

  “Wow, it’s early for that.”

  “I know! I’m so excited. My mom’s taking me dress shopping soon. What about you? Do you like anyone right now?”

  “Nope.”

  “I saw you and Grady talking at rehearsal the other day.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did Reese tell you to invite me over?”

  “What? No, she didn’t.”

  “Did she see me and Grady talking and get mad? Are you supposed to find out if I still like him?”

  “Chloe! Listen to yourself!”

  “Sorry, I just don’t see why else you’d want me to sleep over.”

  “Because you’re my best friend?”

  I snorted. “We haven’t talked in weeks.”

  “I have a lot going on right now, but that doesn’t mean anything’s changed with us.”

  I shook my head. “Hannah, you know things have changed. Look at you—your hair looks amazing and you’re wearing full eye makeup. Your boyfriend is the guy everyone wants to date and your new best friend is a mean girl.”

  Hannah pressed her hand into her pillow. “Is it possible you’re jealous?” She said it kindly.

  “Yeah, right. I’m dying for Reese to like me.”

  “She does like you.”

  “She doesn’t, Hannah. You’re too nice to realize she doesn’t like anyone. She doesn’t like you! She likes playing games with people and being the one in control.”

  Hannah was shaking her head. “You think you have everyone all figured out. You don’t know Reese at all, and you don’t know Zach, and I’m very sorry you didn’t get the lead and you don’t have a boyfriend, but that’s no excuse for being mean to me when I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m allowed to have a boyfriend! I’m allowed to make new friends!”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said. We sat there in silence for a while, not looking at each other. Eventually I said, “Maybe I should go.” I thought she’d ask me to stay, but she said, “If that’s what you want,” so I went downstairs and asked Mrs. Egan if she’d mind giving me a ride home. She tried to get the story out of me in the car. I said I had a stomachache and wanted to sleep in my own bed, and she didn’t press me.

  Monday, March 6

  The thing is, of COURSE I’m jealous. I’m so jealous I can hardly function! I wish Reese had adopted me and shown me what to wear and how to do my makeup. I wish I had a cute, fun boyfriend. But that doesn’t mean Reese isn’t the worst. And maybe I was mean to Hannah on Saturday, but she was mean to me, too. She was meaner.

  Tuesday, March 7

  Great, now Grady AND Hannah are avoiding me at rehearsal. I wish that there were an island for misfit teenagers and that I could move there.

  Wednesday, March 8

  Reese came up to me and Tris at lunch today and said, “Chloe, I heard about the fight. I’m so sorry.” She winced and then pouted.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said. How much had Hannah told her? She couldn’t have mentioned the rude things I’d said about Reese, right, or Reese wouldn’t be standing here?

  “Hannah’s really upset. She’s so sweet. She can’t stand drama. That’s just her personality.”

  I nodded instead of saying what I wanted to, which was, YOU don’t get to explain my best friend since kindergarten to ME!

  She tipped her head to one side. “Do you want me to talk to Hannah for you?”

  “Uh, that’s OK,” I said.

  “I’m a really good counselor,” Reese said. “Last year Noelle and Nevaeh got in a huge thing, and I stepped in and helped.”

  I bet you did, I thought.

  “I can talk to Hannah myself, thanks,” I said, and for one second Reese’s control faltered and I saw her irritation. She’s not used to anyone crossing her, even in something small. But she recovered instantly and said, “Good luck working it out,” which might have sounded sarcastic if she hadn’t been using her cherry-pie voice.

  Tris and I widened our eyes as she walked away, and sat there in silence until she was back at her table. Then Tris said, “Poor Noelle and Nevaeh,” and we analyzed the conversation as fast as we could until lunch ended.

  Thursday, March 9

  Tris seemed distracted and out of it at rehearsal. Miss Murphy even asked him if he was feeling well. We went to the vending machine together
during the break, and he told me he broke down and texted Roy last night, and Roy hasn’t texted him back yet.

  “What did you write?” I asked.

  He handed me his phone.

  Hey is everything ok?

  I haven’t heard from you since

  you know what . . .

  I probably shouldn’t say this but

  I miss you

  “This is not that bad,” I said.

  “It’s SO BAD. The BJ reference, oh God. And why would I tell him I miss him? I guess I thought he’d have to say he misses me, too. I never imagined he’d ignore me!”

  “Maybe he lost his phone,” I said.

  “Chloe, seriously.”

  I looked at him, and he stared into the glowing red face of the vending machine. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t handle being onstage because I’m so far from my phone. All I want to do is check it every 10 seconds. I keep looking at it to make sure I didn’t turn the volume off by accident.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, which is the worst response possible when someone is upset, but I didn’t know what else to say. There isn’t anything you can say when someone’s waiting for a text back. It’s like Tris let go of his trapeze and he’s falling through the air, waiting for Roy to catch him, but Roy is outside the circus tent making out with the lion tamer.

  Friday, March 10

  Roy posted more pictures with that Tris look-alike, which I haven’t mentioned to Tris, even though I’m SURE Tris has seen the same pictures. If he doesn’t want to discuss them, I’m certainly not going to bring them up.

  Saturday, March 11

  Did you see those pictures?

  Yes :(

  What do I do?

  Definitely don’t text him again

  Yeah

  OK

  I know I shouldn’t

  DON’T

  I think all you can do is wait for time to pass

  In a year you’ll be like I can’t believe I was ever into him

  A YEAR?????

  Maybe a few months?

  Love sux

  It’s better to have loved

  and lost etc

  Yeah right

  The sadder but wiser girl for me

  I guess

  Want to come over and

  watch a movie?

  Yes

  If my mom can drive me

  I have to get my license

  We can’t depend on our

  parents for every little thing

  Yes obviously

  You’ll get over this fear

  I have confidence in you

  Thanks

  I hope you’re right

  I am

  If I’m ever sad after I get my

  license remind me we used

  to have to ride our bikes

  everywhere

  Or wait for our moms to get

  off FB and give us rides

  At least you have a mom

  You have one!

  Sorta

  Sunday, March 12

  Miss Murphy brought lunch over today. After we finished and she was getting ready to leave, I asked Dad if he could drive me to CVS.

  “I can take you,” Miss Murphy said. I thanked her, and we got in the Jeep. After I’d finished picking up my stuff (shampoo, nail files, tampons), she asked if I wanted to get a coffee, and I said yes, please. She bought me a latte, and we wound up sitting in Starbucks for almost an hour, sometimes looking at our phones but mostly talking. I asked to see pictures of her apartment in New York, and she said she wasn’t sure she had any, but then she found some taken at a birthday party. The photos showed a small place with a hardwood floor, a pale couch, a view of another apartment building across the street, and an orange cat. Most of them included a handsome guy with curly dark hair. I was brave enough to ask who he was, and she said her ex-boyfriend. I felt jealous on Dad’s behalf, which is 100% insane for several reasons. But then she said, “Cute, right? But he was awful,” so that was OK.

  Monday, March 13

  If someone had told me last year that I would hardly remember what it was like when my mom lived here, I wouldn’t have believed them.

  Tuesday, March 14

  Everyone had to pair up with a friend for in-car instruction back when our driver’s ed class started, and Noelle and I picked each other. The idea is the non-driving student learns something from the ride, because she’s watching her friend drive and hearing Mr. Tansel’s feedback. Noelle had her first session today after school. She did well: Mr. Tansel never used the brake on his side, and most of his corrections were about not being overconfident. “Full and complete stop, Ms. Phelps, not just a pause.” “Did you check your side mirror, or only the rearview?” “Give the Honda Fit more room. You’re bearing down.”

  I don’t feel nervous at all when someone else is driving. It’s not that I think Noelle or my dad or whoever could never get into an accident. I know they could. That’s why I’d rather we all biked or walked everywhere. But if someone else is at the wheel and causes a death, at least it wouldn’t be my fault. It’s the responsibility that scares me. I don’t want the power to take someone’s life, or my own.

  Wednesday, March 15

  Tris and I were sitting on FaceTime while doing our homework after rehearsal, which we do a lot. Sometimes 20 minutes go by without either of us speaking, but it’s still nice to hear him turning pages and coughing occasionally.

  “I’m going to go to bed,” I said finally. “I’m pooped.”

  “OK. Oh, wait. I wanted to ask you something. Do you think Elliott is cute?”

  “Elliott from South Pacific? Grady’s friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, very. Why?”

  “He asked me to hang out on Friday.”

  “WHAT? Like a date? How did you not tell me about this earlier? We’ve been sitting here doing geometry for an hour!”

  “I don’t know. I feel very meh about him.”

  “What are you going to do, pine away for Roy for the next three years?”

  “No. Yeah, maybe.”

  “Elliott seems really nice.”

  “You can tell Miss Murphy regrets casting him in that part. He always looks embarrassed during ‘Honey Bun.’ ”

  “He’s wearing a bra made of coconut shells! Or he’ll have to starting at dress rehearsal, anyway.”

  “Plus, he’s a freshman. So unappealing.”

  “You realize we had this exact conversation about Mac and Grady in the fall, right?”

  “That was different.”

  “How was it different?”

  That stumped him.

  “I guess I could go out with Elliott and see if we have fun,” he said. He sounded horribly depressed.

  “You know I want you to be single forever so we can always be life partners,” I said. “But I still think you should definitely go out with Elliott.”

  “He asked me to go bowling. Isn’t that lame?”

  “What? No! Bowling is fun!”

  “OK, OK, OK, I’ll go.”

  I burst into applause, which at least made him smile.

  Thursday, March 16

  I checked out Elliott more carefully at rehearsal. He was wearing skinny black jeans, a teal T-shirt, and glasses with out-of-date wire frames, but who cares? Tris can help him pick out new ones. He has a shy way about him—he ducks his head and looks up with nervous eyes—but I think it’s endearing.

  I don’t care if Tris disappears into a new relationship and never has time to hang out with me. Anything would be better than watching him gaze into his phone like Roy’s suddenly going to appear on the screen and say, “I made a terrible mistake!”

  Friday, March 17

  How’s it going????? Text me

  when he goes to the bathroom

  It’s ok

  The bowling balls hurt

  my fingers

  Oh boy

  Well they do

  Are you having any good />
  conversations?

  Yeah he’s interesting

  He’s really into books

  He’s a librarian on some site?

  I don’t know

  You would like him

  OK he’s coming back gotta go

  He sounds like he’s having a terrible time, but at least he got off his phone when Elliott came back. That’s something.

  Saturday, March 18

  Miss Murphy is sleeping over tonight. She just called up, “Chloe, we’re ordering. Do you want chicken or shrimp?” and I called back, “Shrimp, please.” For some reason that exchange makes me sad. It’s so mother-and-daughter-esque.

  Sunday, March 19

  Miss Murphy and I both wore comfy pants this morning. And I didn’t wear a bra!

  Monday, March 20

  When I asked Tris about the date in person, he said “It was fun” in the same way you’d say Easter lunch at your great-aunt’s was fun. Elliott was darting glances at Tris during rehearsal, and I saw Tris through his eyes: a handsome, preppy guy with the voice of an angel. I didn’t see Tris darting any glances at Elliott, unfortunately.

  Tuesday, March 21

  Hannah and I aren’t in a fight, exactly, but we also aren’t talking or texting. Today Miss Murphy sent her downstairs to get me and a few other chorus kids, and she looked at a spot just above my head while she talked to me instead of making eye contact.

  Wednesday, March 22

  Hannah, Zach, Grady, and Reese left rehearsal together today, talking loudly and laughing together. Reese pushed Zach and said, “Zach, shut up, seriously!” and Zach said, “What? Reese’s Pieces is a cute nickname!” and then they walked through the door and their voices died away.