The Year of Living Awkwardly

by Emma Chastain

  I love Elliott!

  Wednesday, June 7

  I love Elliott

  Yeah so I noticed

  You should love him too

  OK?

  I really really

  like him

  You are the Roy/Mac

  of this relationship

  I know

  You have all the power

  I know

  Isn’t it sad to realize this is

  the way Roy and Mac felt

  about us?

  “Cute, fun to hang out

  with for now, but actually

  I DGAF”

  So sad

  Is it more fun to be the

  Mac or the Chloe?

  The Chloe

  Definitely

  I would rather be sick to my

  stomach but super in love

  Well that’s the situation I’m

  in right now and it sucks

  Try to enjoy it

  Easy for you to say

  Why don’t you nut up

  and tell Grady you

  like him?

  Believe me it would be an

  exercise in humiliation

  You should see the way he

  looks at Reese

  What if you’re wrong

  I’m not

  Just try talking to him

  Maybe

  Maybe.

  Thursday, June 8

  I don’t know how the teachers expect us to study for finals when it’s 85 degrees outside, our summer jobs have already started, and we’re trying to write and memorize a script for a potentially life-changing conversation with the loves of our lives.

  Friday, June 9

  After Nadia and I cashed out, I pretended to be searching for something in my backpack. Finally she left, calling good night to me and Grady. I walked over to him. My heart felt like a kicking rabbit trapped in my chest.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” He was still wearing his sunglasses, and I couldn’t get a read on his expression.

  “We haven’t really talked yet this summer, somehow.”

  “Yeah, true.” He crouched down, doing something with his water-testing kit.

  “It’s cool you’re a lifeguard this year,” I said. “I bet you don’t miss the concession stand.”

  Say you miss it, I ordered him silently. Say you miss it.

  “This is better, I guess,” he said.

  “Ha! Yeah, I can imagine,” I said.

  He didn’t say anything else. The silence stretched on and on, like a vast windswept plain.

  “Well, I gotta go,” I said. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Horrible! Horrible. Stilted, awkward, emotionless, polite. And that was my very best attempt! That was me sticking to the script I worked on instead of getting ready for my tests!

  Saturday, June 10

  I ate two bites of dinner, studied for finals, and went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Miss Murphy came in to ask if I was sick, but I said no, just sick of myself.

  Sunday, June 11

  When I came downstairs at 9, Miss Murphy had my coffee and granola waiting for me. I thanked her, and she said, “Hurry up and shower. We’re going out.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “Finals.”

  “You’ve been studying plenty,” she said. “And this won’t take too long.”

  She took me to the Emily Dickinson Museum, which is in the actual house where Dickinson lived. We took the 45-minute tour, creaking up and down the stairs and finishing in Dickinson’s bedroom, where she wrote most of her poems. The walls were papered in a pattern of green leaves and pink roses. The twin sleigh bed is the one she really slept in. I couldn’t believe I got to stand inches away from it. Across from the bed is a fireplace, and next to the fireplace is a reproduction of the tiny desk Dickinson wrote on. It’s smaller than my nightstand, but that’s all the space she needed to change the whole course of poetry. The view looked a lot like the view from my bedroom: trees and more trees.

  The tour guide kept saying “Emily,” which annoyed me. If she were giving us a tour of Hemingway’s house, would she have called him “Ernest”? She also said no one knows for sure, but some scholars think Dickinson had a boyfriend or even boyfriends. Maybe E. D. was sick with love, like me, but she didn’t let it take over her entire mind, like I do. She knew what was important: her work. I want to be like that. I’m not sure what my work is yet, but that’s part of the problem. I need to find out, then do it.

  Monday, June 12

  I know being a grown-up is hard, and you have to support yourself, pay taxes, do a job you hate, etc., etc., all the stuff they complain about, but at least adults don’t have to sit in front of a geometry final for two hours, sweating bullets.

  Tuesday, June 13

  Hannah and I are saying stilted hellos to each other in the hall, so that’s something. Reese is completely ignoring both of us. Grady and I give each other a smileless what’s up nod, or sometimes pretend not to see each other. Walking from class to class is exhausting—it’s like fighting your way through a brambly forest of feelings. Only three school days left, then the water park trip on Monday, then summer. Although it’s not like summer will be much better, what with being forced to watch Grady ignoring me every day at work.

  Wednesday, June 14

  Whattttt I saw Noelle and Reese talking today! They were standing next to Noelle’s locker. Their voices were low. Their faces were serious. As I walked by, Noelle saw me and gave me a look like, I’ll tell you later. As soon as I was around the corner, I texted her, ?!?!? An hour later, she wrote back:

  She stopped to say hi and I

  couldn’t turn her away

  It’s not like we made up

  What were you guys

  talking about?

  Hannah actually

  Reese is really upset about

  what happened

  Hmmmmm

  Unless Reese is planning to prostrate herself at Hannah’s feet and beg for forgiveness, I’m not that impressed.

  Thursday, June 15

  If I don’t get an A+ on my English final, I’ll eat my flip-flops. I was confident about the answer to every multiple-choice question, and I had a great time writing an essay about whether you can interpret The Great Gatsby as a feminist work. (I said you can. Jay and Nick don’t see Daisy as a three-dimensional person, but that doesn’t mean Fitzgerald doesn’t.)

  Tris and Elliott and I ate lunch outside after my test. I bragged to Elliott about my essay, and he said it sounds amazing. Tris confessed he’s never actually read Gatsby, just watched both movie versions, and Elliott and I both said, “TRIS!!” Elliott said, “You had time to watch two movies but not to read the book? It’s under 200 pages!” He’s starting to be more like himself around me. And I could tell Tris was enjoying being ganged up on by his best friend and his boyfriend.

  Friday, June 16

  I wasn’t planning it, but when I saw Grady in the hall after school, I changed course and walked right up to him.

  “Are you going to work?” I said.

  “No, I have the day off. You?”

  “Nope. Just gonna sit at home alone, looking at my phone for hours. Nonstop excitement.” I wish I could speak with earnestness and enthusiasm instead of being sarcastic all the time.

  He closed his locker and put his backpack on. He wears it with the straps on both shoulders, and sometimes he even fastens the clasp across his chest. Everything he does is fascinating to me. All of his quirks are so endearing.

  When he turned to leave, I followed him. “What’s it like working with Reese?” I said.

  “It sucks.”

  So he misses her and it’s painful for him to be near her. Exactly as I suspected.

  He stopped and said, “I forgot something in my locker. See you at the pool, probably.”

  “Be there or be square,” I said, because I was nervous and upset, and so a Dad-like remark that made no sense popped
out.

  Chloe, accept the facts. He doesn’t like you. He’s pretending he left something in his locker to get away from you.

  Saturday, June 17

  It took me until 5 p.m. to remember that Father’s Day is tomorrow. Thank God for Miss Murphy. After I asked her for help, she told Dad we had a lady situation, which wasn’t technically a lie—I am a lady, and the situation is that I forgot about Father’s Day—and drove me to CVS so I could buy a card.

  Sunday, June 18

  Celebrated Father’s Day by getting into a fight with Dad. I worked up all my courage and said, “Do you have time for some driving practice?” and he said “Oh. Sure” in the same tone of voice he’d use to say “Oh. Sure, I have time for some Russian roulette.” I said, “You sound terrified,” and he said, “I’m not terrified, honey, but you have to understand why I’m wary after what happened on Memorial Day,” and I said, “I am going to crash the car. Even you think so,” and then went up to my room to be scared all by myself.

  Monday, June 19

  Last day of school! We went to Make a Splash, a water park 45 minutes away. Kind of a risky field trip, since it could have been 70 degrees today, but maybe the administration was counting on climate change, and they were right to, because it felt like mid-August.

  It was horribly awkward but also very exciting to see everyone in their bathing suits. Nadine Wallach has an interesting birthmark on her torso, for example, and Chris Fortier has a dad bod already. I spent most of the trip sitting on a bench with Tris and Elliott, watching people rocket down the biggest water slide, plow into the flat part butt-first, and then attempt to subtly pick their giant wedgies.

  Eventually I felt like a third wheel and told them I’d be right back. I wandered over to the fake river and watched strangers float by on inner tubes. Some of these strangers were cute boys from other schools, which made me think about the fact that there is an entire world of teenagers who do not attend MH and that it’s crazy to act like Nadine and Chris and Grady and Reese, etc., are the only people in the universe and to get so wrapped up in our little dramas that I entirely forget the existence of other kids, not to mention refugees and political prisoners. Then Hannah tapped me on the shoulder and I forgot my insight immediately.

  “Do you have a second?” she said.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks for calling me during the prom. That was nice of you.”

  “No problem.”

  She took a deep breath. “Chloe, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry I . . .” Her eyes filled up with tears, and she covered her face with her hands. I scooted closer to her and put my arm around her. Her shoulders were warm from the sun and oily from sunscreen. I knew she was about to give me a big speech, and I was interested in hearing it, but it was also superfluous. As soon as she said she was sorry, the last bits of my anger burned off.

  “You were right,” she said. “Reese is awful. I saw her being cruel to other people, but I always had an excuse for her. It didn’t bother me until she stole Zach. And that’s terrible! If I were truly Christian, I’d feel other people’s suffering as strongly as I feel my own.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “What are you supposed to do, lie on the couch taking painkillers every time a friend of yours gets her wisdom teeth out? Of course you’re going to be more upset when you’re the one having a hard time.”

  “I was mean too,” she said. “I was as bad as she was. That time we went to the Bowline? I knew she was intentionally making you feel left out, and I helped her do it. And it felt good to be mean. That’s the scary part. Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course I forgive you.”

  “Why?”

  “For one thing, I did exactly the same thing to you last year.”

  “I guess you sort of did.”

  “I totally did! I ditched you for a jerk. For months! So what kind of hypocrite would I be if I held a grudge now?”

  “But it’s almost worse to ditch you for a friend.”

  “No way,” I said. “Besides, every girl in our class would do exactly what you did if Reese singled her out.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes! I know I would! I’d be ignoring you at the Bowline so hard you’d think you were a ghost.”

  She still looked miserable, but she smiled at this.

  “And you were right, when we had that fight,” I said. “You are allowed to make new friends, and have a boyfriend, and ignore me if you want to. You know? There’s no law that we have to be close for the rest of our lives.”

  “But I want to be close!” she said.

  “Me too.”

  We smiled at each other.

  “Has Reese tried to make up with you?” I asked.

  “No. She says ‘Hi, sweetie’ to me in the hall, like everything’s fine, but that’s it.”

  “Are you sad about Zach?”

  “Yes. I’m so sad.”

  “How did you find out, anyway?”

  “Someone saw them making out at a party, and it got back to me. And honestly . . .” She trailed off and watched three little kids splashing along, kicking their legs and laughing. “I wasn’t that surprised. Reese was always grabbing Zach’s arm and teasing him. I told myself she was being nice to him because he was her friend’s boyfriend, but I knew that wasn’t it.”

  “They deserve each other,” I said.

  “I want him to be happy,” Hannah said, and she started tearing up again.

  I held my hand up like a stop sign. “He did this too, you know. He’s half to blame. It’s not all Reese’s fault. Get mad at him.”

  If I know one thing for sure, it’s that listening to “Someone Like You” on repeat and thinking about how wonderful your ex is and how much happiness he deserves is NOT the way to get over him. What Hannah should do is focus on the fact that Zach is a poisonous pile of raccoon poop. But of course she won’t. Tris didn’t. I didn’t. No one can, at least not right away.

  We walked back over to Tris and Elliott. I could tell Tris was shocked to see us together, but he said hi to Hannah like nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Hannah and I sat next to each other on the bus on the way home, and when it was time to say goodbye, we hugged and hugged before she got in her mom’s car. Her belly was pressed against mine, and I could smell her familiar smell and feel her shoulder blades under my hands. I’m so glad we can be friends again.

  Tuesday, June 20

  As bad as it is working across the pool from Grady all day, it’s infinitely worse when he’s not there and I’m working across the pool from Reese. I can’t stand silence for more than two minutes—I have to turn on the radio or talk to Nadia. But Reese sits there for hours at a time without her phone, without a book, without anyone to talk to, looking like a queen even in her sunglasses and baseball cap, wearing a little smile on her lips, probably plotting her next battles.

  I do admire her in some ways. Zach comes to pick her up after work a lot, and it’s like ballet, the way she runs her fingers through his hair or nudges him with her hip. Even the mothers watch her in awe.

  Wednesday, June 21

  Nadia is so eager and optimistic. It should make me like her, but instead I want to put on noise-canceling headphones every time she starts talking. Today she was asking me how many extracurriculars I think she should do, and if the Love Notes ever accept freshmen, and if most people at MH have real relationships or just hook up, and I had to stop myself from shaking her and saying, “HIGH SCHOOL IS HORRIFYING. STOP LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.”

  On the other hand, I’ve never had a more willing audience for my Mac stories. Not only does Nadia listen to them, but she interrupts me to ask for more details.

  Thursday, June 22

  When I got home from work, Noelle was sitting on my front steps, looking at her phone. She glanced up when I called her name, and I jogged across the lawn to her.

  “How did you get here?” I asked as we hugged hello.

  “I borrowed my mom’s car.”


  “You have to stop,” I said. “You’re going to get in an accident or arrested.”

  “Listen, I need to tell you something,” she said, and pulled me down next to her on the steps. “Reese and I are friends again.”

  “What? Are you serious? How did that even happen?”

  “She called me crying and said she misses me so much and she can’t stand to lose me. She promised everything will change.”

  “And you fell for it?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe she’s sorry. Maybe she’s not. Maybe she needs me now that she’s on the outs with Hannah.”

  “So you’re taking her back even though you don’t trust her and she told everyone you’re a slut.”

  “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I’m shocked. She spread rumors about you! She kicked you out of her clique!”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

  “I’m serious, Noelle.”

  She slapped a mosquito that had landed on her arm. “She can be awful. But there are things you don’t know about her. She pretends nothing gets to her, but it’s not true. She has a lot going on with her family.”

  “We all have a lot going on with our families,” I said.

  “Yeah.” We sat on the steps in silence, looking at the street.

  “I shouldn’t admit this,” Noelle said, “but I kind of like all her drama. It’s interesting.”

  I refused to say so out loud—I was a little mad at Noelle—but I understood what she meant.

  “And you know I miss being popular,” she said.

  Something occurred to me, and I gasped and grabbed her arm. “You’re going to disappear from my life!”