The Opposite of Love

by Sarah Lynn Scheerger

  “Real mature, Chase. Thanks. He happens to have a medical condition, just so you know. Anything he smokes is prescribed.”

  “Just like ten percent of the seniors at my school. A medical condition, my ass.” Chase tried not to laugh. “You really pick the winners, don’t you?”

  Candy stared at him, unblinking. Just as he figured he’d blown it, she sighed and crossed her arms, but then a chuckle escaped. “I dumped him last night. You were right. A royal loser.” Soon her tough front melted, and they were both laughing.

  13

  ROSE

  Becca cornered Rose at school on Monday morning. “Tell me you love me!” she ordered, looking like she was trying not to smile.

  “You know I do.” Rose crossed her arms. “But what do you want?”

  “I found you the perfect job.” Becca danced around in a circle.

  “Illustrating for Disney?” Rose joked.

  “Get real. My mom’s day care is opening a new class. They need to fill three afternoon positions. You and I can each take one.”

  “Day care?” Rose’s voice went up three octaves. “You know I’m allergic to children. They make me itch.” Lie. She liked little kids, but they didn’t go with her image.

  “Oh, come on, it’s easy. You can sit and talk about Disney movies all day long. It’ll be perfect for you.”

  “Hmmm.” Rose considered, her thoughts tripping ahead of her. Three positions. “Only if you get Chase hired for the third spot.”

  Becca laughed so hard she nearly choked on her own tongue. “Are you serious? If he sits down in the wrong place, he’ll squash one of the little buggers.”

  “That’s the deal.” Rose winked. “Take it or leave it.”

  “You owe me,” Becca warned.

  “I always do.”

  Rose found Chase at his locker, and he said “yes” before she even finished explaining. But now, on the first day of work, little kids hung on Chase like a tree trunk, begging for rides, books, and games. He looked petrified, like there were spiders crawling on him rather than kids.

  Rose kicked Chase’s foot. “Relax. This isn’t rocket science. Let’s just pull out a bucket of blocks. That should occupy the little monsters.”

  Chase raised his eyebrow at Rose. She raised her eyebrow right back. Passing messages with their eyes wasn’t quite the same as a date, but it was something. Rose could feel tension emanating from their two bodies like a magnetic force. Not a bad tension. Just a pull—a desire—that made her skin long to connect with his, even just to hold his hand.

  Within an hour, Rose sported yellow paint streaked in her hair like bad highlights. Becca’s whole mouth had turned a lovely color of blue after a four-year-old dared her to sample the play dough. Chase seemed to be warming up. He followed a mess of munchkins around, acting like a dragon. He tugged Rose’s hair as he dragon-stomped past.

  And suddenly, the pull was too much. Rose elbowed Becca. “Chase and I’ll get the snack ready.”

  Becca glanced at the clock and rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure it really takes two people to pour apple juice into Dixie cups, but whatever.” She kneeled next to a little girl with braids and helped her pin the paint apron over her clothes. “I’m going to time you, though. You’re both on the clock.”

  Rose grabbed Chase by the hand. “Remember, I’m your best friend in the world,” she said as she pulled Chase into the kitchen.

  Becca snorted. “You’re assuming best-friend status means I wouldn’t rat you out.”

  Rose just winked and tugged Chase along with her. His hand felt heavy in hers. She eyed him as they sliced oranges and broke graham crackers into fourths. Rose shifted her position so that she stood directly next to him. She leaned in to him and laced her arm through his. “Here. I’ll help you.” She arranged the crackers on plates, all with her arm linked. Then she stood on her tippy-toes and pressed her lips onto his cheek. She felt just the faintest prickle of stubble, like maybe he’d started shaving already.

  He stiffened.

  “What’s your deal?” Rose unlinked herself and moved back away from him. She’d always been so careful not to care when she flirted with a guy. To make it purely physical and purely fun, something she could toss away at a moment’s notice. But something about Chase was different, and that scared her.

  “It’s only our first day,” Chase whispered. “I don’t want to get fired just yet.”

  “Oh, so that means we should wait until the second day to make out on the kitchen counter?” Rose grinned mischievously. “Get real, you dork. I just kissed your cheek. A little harmless flirtation never hurt anyone. Just makes work more fun.”

  Chase twisted and faced her. “Look, Rose, this isn’t a game to me.” He cleared his throat. “I really like you.”

  Rose’s heart skipped a beat, a warning sign. “I like you too.” She averted her eyes and focused on setting all the Dixie cups onto a tray. “Just trying to spice things up.”

  “Well, if that’s your goal, you’re doing a good job.” Chase picked up the second tray. “But I’m not sure I can handle all that, uh, spicing and at the same time stay focused on the sixteen preschoolers in the next room. Can we save it for after work?”

  “There is no after work for me, Chase.” Rose tried not to sound whiny. “This is it. I’m grounded.”

  “Not forever.”

  “You don’t know the Parsmissions.” Rose carried her tray carefully toward the door. She pushed through it but let it slam closed behind her, right in Chase’s face. She sighed. Maybe Chase didn’t get her after all.

  14

  CHASE

  For the next week, Rose seemed to sink within herself. Chase hoped he hadn’t completely blown his chances with her. She seemed like the kind of girl who wouldn’t get burned twice. And he hadn’t meant to burn her. God, he was an idiot. He had the hottest girl in the tenth grade hitting on him, and what did he do? Told her “not now”? Was he clinically insane? He wished he could go back in time and redo that moment. Somehow it came out wrong. Or she took it wrong.

  Chase tried to play it cool and focus on not seeming desperate. Girls didn’t like desperate. Girls liked confident. Aloof. Or so he thought. Because except for a few meaningless make-out sessions in dark hallways at random parties, he hadn’t had a whole lot of experience in the girl department. Maybe if he was more experienced, he’d know how to handle a girl like Rose. But things at work were hopping, and the learning curve was steep, so that helped him occupy his mind. Plus, just being near Rose made his pulse quicken.

  “Can I sign out my kids?” A tight-lipped woman tapped her foot and crossed her arms. The kids scrambled up and over to their mother, the little one tripping over an untied shoelace. “Clumsy!” She smacked the kid on the butt, hard enough to look like it stung, but he didn’t flinch. Chase handed her the clipboard silently, biting his lip to keep from saying something rude.

  The last mother slipped in. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught up.” The woman grinned so wide her mouth looked horse-like, showing a row of clear braces. Those things were supposed to be invisible, but they weren’t. Just kind of yellow, but not in a gross way. “I know Rebecca, of course.”

  Becca straightened up. “Chase and Rose, this is Mrs. Rosenberg.” Chase and Rose nodded blankly. “She’s Matthew’s mother and our assistant rabbi at Beth Shalom.”

  A little boy scrambled to his feet, dropping his Matchbox car with a clatter. He squealed, “Mommy!” He moved like a penguin as he toddled toward her.

  “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble for you,” Mrs. Rosenberg said almost to herself, not like she really expected an answer. “Come here, little man.” She pulled the boy into her arms and kissed his head. She looked back up at them, her eyes still shining. “Thanks again, guys.” She flashed that wide smile again and headed out the door, whispering to Matthew about dinner and bat
h time.

  Chase pulled his backpack strap over his shoulder. “She seems cool,” he said after Mrs. Rosenberg had moved out of earshot. “I’d like to come with you sometime,” he said absentmindedly, packing up his things.

  “Who’re you talking to?” Rose asked.

  “Becca. I’d like to come to temple services some time. Just to check it out.”

  Becca opened her mouth in mock surprise. “You gonna convert?”

  Chase shoved his hands in his pockets. “From what? Don’t you have to have a religion in order to convert to something else?”

  “I thought you were Baptist or born again or something,” Becca said, wandering around the room, returning stray toys to their places.

  “When I was little, we went to church. A few different ones, actually, depending on my dad’s mood. Now I’m kind of on strike.”

  “What for?” Rose jumped into the conversation. At least she was starting conversations again. She grabbed a sponge from the sink and started wiping down the tables.

  “I guess it’s the same reason Daniel’s all gung ho about Buddhism.”

  “The meditation?” Becca asked from under the play-dough table.

  “No—just something different from what you know.” Chase shifted his weight. “Maybe I’m religion shopping. Your rabbi just seems so … chill. Kind of Zen-like too. She probably does yoga and eats granola and hand-squeezed orange juice for breakfast.”

  “Oh, is that what you look for in a rabbi?” Rose bit her lip like she was trying not to laugh. Okay, now she was finding him funny again. Maybe there was hope.

  “No. I don’t know—maybe she seems in touch, or centered or some crap like that.” Chase stretched his backpack straps in front of him, his eyes on Rose.

  “God help us. Daniel’s rubbing off on you, and I can only handle one Zen freak in my life at a time.” Becca wiped her hands on her jeans, surveying the room. “I think we’re pretty much done, guys. You can take off, if you want.”

  Rose glanced at the clock. “Five minutes early? Five whole minutes of freedom until Mrs. P. arrives to put me under lock and key?” She mock-twirled like a dancer. “Question is, just what can I do to fill up five whole minutes?” She paused and eyed Chase.

  “Well, we are off work. Technically.” Chase hoped he wasn’t noticeably salivating.

  Rose flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What exactly did you have in mind?” He could tell by her grin that she was going to make him work for it.

  “Let’s just say, five minutes is a perfect amount of time.”

  Becca pressed her hands to her ears. “You guys do realize I’m still here, right? Please!”

  Chase opened the door to the coat closet and swung his arm to invite Rose in, acting like she was stepping into a limousine, rather than a coat closet. “Yeah, I guess a little privacy is in order.”

  Five minutes later, he could tell with certainty that he had not blown it with Rose Parsimmon.

  15

  ROSE

  Rose had figured out a survival trick a long time ago. Finding secret projects gave her something to look forward to. Not projects in the traditional sense. Projects Rose-style. Like planning and exacting a devious plan (and watching the Parsimmons’ reactions). Collecting secret gifts for her mother. Sneaking through the Parsimmons’ files to try to learn more about her biological mother. Seducing a boy. It’d started out that way with Chase, sure. And looking forward to stolen moments helped her get through the days. But it was turning into much more.

  And that made her nervous.

  At first she’d tried her best to make it flirty and fun with Chase, and to stay away from anything meaningful, but apparently he was not that kind of guy. He’d looked so cute, standing there a couple weeks ago being philosophical about religion. Since then, she and Chase had made it a point to be super-efficient when they cleaned up at the end of the day, in the hopes that there might be a little extra, uh, free time.

  Like today. Rose swept the entryway of the day care while she waited for the last few kids to be picked up. Becca disinfected the tiny toys. And Chase wiped down the tables. Rose gave him a playful kick in the butt as she passed him. Definitely a squeeze-worthy butt.

  Suddenly her eyes spotted something and she froze. She stared outside the open classroom door. As carefully as if she were walking on a plate of thin glass, she tiptoed outside.

  “What the … ?”

  “She’s gone loco,” Becca teased loudly. “Crazy in the head.”

  Rose hunched over the ground and held out her palm, face up. A rough pink tongue lapped at it thirstily. Two large almond-shaped eyes stared up at her. Then the kitten nuzzled her knees. Rose scooped it up into her arms. “Look what I found,” she whispered, breathless.

  Becca followed her out, straddling the door frame. “It’s a stray.”

  “No shit, Einstein.” Rose’s retort came slowly, without its normal sting. Instead her voice was filled with wonder. “She’s tiny. And all alone.”

  “She might belong to someone.” Chase peeked over Becca’s shoulder.

  “There’s no tag, and she’s out wandering by herself. She’ll need a warm place to sleep.” Rose stood up and leaned against the stucco outside wall, feeling the rough stubble press against her back. “So … I say she’s mine now.”

  “Well, put her somewhere—we’ve still got to finish cleaning, and we have a few more kids here,” Becca urged, still standing in the doorway.

  “Can I wear your sweatshirt, Chase?” Rose scarcely took her eyes off the cat, as if she might vanish into midair like some magician’s idea of a cruel joke. Chase tossed the Nike sweatshirt at her, and with it came a wave of his smell. She slipped it over her head, and for a moment, the rugged sweetness engulfed her. It was almost as if his arms were wrapped around her. Rose tucked the bottom of the sweatshirt into her jeans, making a little pocket. She pulled the neck of the sweatshirt out so that she could gently place the kitten inside. “There. You gotta love a baggy sweatshirt. You can hide almost anything. Remember, Becca?”

  Becca groaned. “Don’t remind me. And don’t tell Chase. You’ll corrupt him.”

  “Hey, is there room in there for me?” Chase asked, pulling out the neck of the sweatshirt to peek in. A soft purring sound drifted up. “So you’re gonna keep the cat? Will your parents care?”

  “They won’t know. I’ll wear your sweatshirt home. I’ll tell them it’s Becca’s.”

  Becca scrunched up her nose. “I don’t get it. Why don’t you just ask them if you can keep the cat? You know Mrs. P. is a sucker for cats.”

  Rose wrapped her arms around her middle protectively. “No way. If they know, it’s one more thing they can take away from me from the next time I commit some mortal sin.” Rose peeked down at the kitten, all curled up. “No,” she said into her sweatshirt, her voice all muffled. “This kitten is my secret.”

  Chase stepped away. “Well, what are you gonna call her?”

  “I have the name picked out. Brace yourself for its beauty.” Rose waited. “Nala.”

  “Nala?” Becca asked, starting to laugh. “Like from The Lion King?” She shook her head. “Shit, Rose. You’re a Disney addict. You need serious help.”

  Rose glanced at the clock, and then stuck her head out the front door. “I do need help. The warden is coming, and I’ve got to sneak Nala home without her making a noise.”

  Rose stayed another five minutes while the last few kids were picked up, and then she left, Nala snuggled next to her. As she walked out the front door, she couldn’t help but smile. Because now she had a new project. Just in time to help her survive winter break.

  16

  ROSE

  In Rose’s whole life it had never snowed in Simi Valley, but for the entire two weeks of winter break she felt as if someone had draped a cloak of snowy gloom over her. Probably b
ecause with no school and the day care being closed, she was home pretty much all the time. Nala, instant messaging, and a few Walmart trips were her only reprieves from listening to Mrs. P. explain the benefits of purchasing a live Christmas tree versus a plastic tree, the constant home improvement infomercials they had running, and the advice of Dr. Phil blaring from the television screen.

  Rose didn’t have a computer in her room, so to instant message, she hid Nala in her closet with a fluffy blanket bed and set herself up at the computer in the Parsimmons’ office, armed with a glass of water and red licorice. She pulled up two sites, so if Mr. or Mrs. P. happened to walk past, she could simply click on the second site. That way they wouldn’t see she was chatting with a b-o-y.

  Chase: I got a present for you.

  Rose: Really?

  Rose couldn’t help but feel that bubbly, little kid excitement.

  Chase: Yeah. I’ve missed you. I’m going through Rose withdrawal. When can I see you?

  Rose: I can sneak out.

  Chase: Nah. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Can’t I just come over?

  Rose: That would be the trouble. No way. I’m grounded, remember?

  Chase: I can hide it for you on the front porch.

  Rose: Okay. Leave it in the planter tonight. Late. After ten, at least.

  And now a new project. Rose didn’t have anything prepared to give Chase. But she could draw him something. She padded back to her bedroom, past Mrs. P. stringing popcorn onto dental floss with a sewing needle and glued to a show about conspiracy theories. Rose eased the door shut so that the click was barely perceptible. And pulled out her art supplies. The one set of gifts from the Parsimmons that she truly treasured. She’d given them hints that year, cutting out the ad for the art kit and laying it on the kitchen table.

  Nala nudged through a crack in her closet and wrapped herself around Rose’s legs. The pencils took on a life of their own in her hands. She sketched an image of Chase, with six day-care kids climbing on his back. She hoped he’d like it. Rose folded in halves, then fourths, and then eighths, until she felt confident that it was small enough to be hidden. She wrote Chase’s name on the front in sprawling cursive and then tucked the sketch into the planter.