Brogan’s eyes widened, “Why not? Oh, let me guess, you’ll explain later.” She turned to go.
Marissa grabbed her sleeve. “Brogan! Let’s do lunch. We’ll talk.”
Brogan looked up at the clock. “Okay?”
“Meet me at my car.”
Then the bell rang which meant Marissa was late for first period.
As Marissa snuck into the journalism room five minutes late, Ms. Prime glanced toward the door. “We’re so glad you could join us Marissa,” she said sarcastically, then turning to the group of seniors continued, “as I was saying, in two weeks we will be going on a field trip to channel seven to see the workings of a morning news show. Then we will be a part of the studio audience for Talk With America Today. This is such an exciting opportunity for those of you who would like to study broadcast journalism. It will be a taste of what it’s like inside a real studio.”
Marissa grew excited at the news. She had always wanted to visit a television studio. And she knew that Talk With America Today was filmed live.
Ms. Prime continued, “I’m going to pass out permission slips and waivers. Since you will be in the studio audience, you may appear on television so you need to sign a waiver. I believe that most of you are not eighteen yet so you need one of your parents or guardians to sign the permission slip and waiver.” She stopped in front of Marissa. “And since you were tardy Miss Belknapp, you have the honor of going to the art room after school to pick up the photos from Mr. Smith for this week’s paper.
Marissa froze. She couldn’t be seen going to the art room, not after the whole rumor situation.
Ms. Prime stared at Marissa. “Do you have a problem doing what I just asked you to do Miss Belknapp?”
“It’s just that,” Marissa stuttered, “ I, uh, don’t have seventh and eighth periods.”
“Well, that isn’t my problem is it? I specifically stated at the beginning of the year that tardiness was unacceptable, deadlines are important. And I need those photos. Do you understand?” Ms. Prime asked coldly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Marissa casting her eyes downward.
“People, let me make this clear. The world of journalism is extremely competitive. If you are not on time, if you are not on top of things, you will lose your job. And there will be a long line of people waiting to take yours. So I may sound tough and ruthless now but you will thank me later.”
Brogan bit into her hamburger, stared down at Marissa’s lonely package of French fries and said, “Are you dieting or something?”
Marissa smiled embarrassed. “Oh no. I’m sort of not eating meat these days. And they don’t have very many vegetables in these fast food joints.”
Brogan raised one eyebrow at Marissa’s explanation. “Anyway, so what’s up with the teacher dude?”
Marissa looked around the restaurant to see if there were other students from St. Mary’s then whispered, “Apparently there was some rumor going around that I was dating a teacher. Pamela told me so I had to tell her about Nick. Then I ended up telling Nick that I told Pam and he’s freaked out. It’s kind of a big mess.”
Brogan grabbed a fry from Marissa’s side. “So what is going on with you two exactly?”
“Exactly?” hesitated Marissa.
“Exactly,” answered Brogan firmly.
Marissa clammed up, “Exactly I don’t know how he feels. But I think I’m in love with him.”
“No!”
“Yes, I think I am.”
“So what about Dan?”
Marissa rolled her eyes, “Well, that’s another story. He called me last night. He cheated on me.”
Brogan gasped, “No way!”
“Way!”
Brogan put her fists under her chin and leaned closer to Marissa, “So what happened?”
“He met some girl at a bar, took her home and had sex with her. That’s all,” explained Marissa matter-of-factly, stunned by her lack of emotions this time around.
“The bastard!” exclaimed Brogan.
“Yeah. But do you know what I was thinking? Nick and I haven’t had sex but I’m way more unfaithful to him than he was to me.”
Brogan nodded her head as if she understood, “Because you love him.”
“Yeah.” Then she stopped. “Brog, I have to ask you this and you need to give me an honest answer. Did you tell John about Nick? I won’t be mad at you, I just need to know.”
Brogan looked ashamed, “Well maybe I mentioned it a teeny bit.”
“Brogan!” yelled Marissa.
“Mariss, I’m sorry. John and I talk about everything. I don’t keep secrets from him.”
Marissa turned pale, “Brogan, are you forgetting that John is friends with Tim Kowalski?”
She slapped her hand to her mouth. “Ooops, I did forget. But John won’t say anything. Why would he? He has nothing to gain from it.”
“Brogan, please tell him not to say anything to anybody. Please! I know this is like the gossip of the century. But it could really hurt Nick. He could not only lose his job but his career too. Please I’m begging you.”
“O.K. I promise. So why can’t you come to the game with us on Friday?”
“Because Nick is probably going to be there with his ‘date’.”
Brogan looked confused. “What?’
“His parents set him up with the daughter of friends of theirs. I suggested that it might be a good anti-rumor strategy to bring her along to the game. That way people think she is his girlfriend.”
“And you’re O.K. with that?”
“Well, I guess I really don’t have a choice. He’s free to see whomever he wants. But yes, I’m a little jealous. Anyway I really don’t want to see him there with another girl. It would just feel weird and I would probably freak out for no reason,” Marissa babbled on.
Brogan’s jaw dropped wide open, “That is just so fucked up!”
Marissa smiled, “Yes I know. I’m the tragic hero from a book. What can I say? Never a dull moment in my life.”
After school, Marissa stood in the hallway between her locker and the art room. Crowds of students rushed past. She wasn’t sure how to act toward him so she decided to be cold and business-like. Still, she was nervous about entering the art room all together. Mrs. Kowalski was in the tutoring room and if she saw Marissa go in, the wheels would start spinning in that wicked mind of hers.
Standing there she rehearsed to herself. “I’ll go in ask for the photos, take them and leave. It’s easy.” Her mind told her to walk forward but her feet froze. After what seemed like hours instead of minutes, a pack of Freshman, who were late for the bus, rushed by her nearly knocking her flat to the ground. But it was the nudge she needed and at that point she more or less sprinted toward the art room. The door was open and she heard voices from inside. At first she was relieved to know that she wouldn’t have to face the awkwardness of being alone with Nick. Then as she arrived at the door she saw Tamara sitting on top of an art table, swinging her legs back and forth, and chattering away at top speed as if she were having the time of her life. At the back of the room, Nick flitted to and fro hanging up artwork, only stopping once in a while to say ‘uh-huh’ or ‘I see’. In an instant, jealousy overcame Marissa once again. As far as appearances were concerned, Marissa had nothing to fear. Tamara was plain and homely, a wallflower in Marissa’s opinion. But Tamara was there preying upon her boyfriend and she could do nothing to prevent it. The jealousy was intensified by the fact that, being the sort of girl she was, she could hang out with Nick in the art room and actually get away with it. No one in his or her right mind would accuse Tamara of dating a teacher and no one would accuse Nick of courting Tamara. Yet somehow that didn’t comfort Marissa in the least. The fact was Tamara could spend time with Nick and Marissa couldn’t. It seemed unfair.
Marissa had been standing at the door for several minutes before she was noticed. Nick looked first and the shock on his face would have been humorous had the situation been lighter. A second later, Tama
ra turned to see what he was looking at. Marissa forced a smile.
There was stunned silence before Nick stammered, “Uh Marissa…um you know Tamara don’t you?”
Marissa glanced casually in Tamara’s direction and said, “Yes. Hey Tamara.” Then turning to Nick in a business-like manner, she said, “I’m here to pick up the photos for the newspaper.”
Nick came out of his momentary trance and said, “Oh yes. I have them right here.” He raced over to his desk and handed her the small stack. Their hands brushed as Marissa reached for the photos. And once again she felt a rush of electricity pulse through her body.
Marissa remained stiff, “Thank you.” She then left the room as quickly as she had come in, still racing as she reached the newspaper room.
Ms. Prime was locking the door when Marissa ran up to her out of breath. “I have the photos.”
As she stuck the stack of pictures in her bag Ms. Prime said, “I hope you didn’t think I was too hard on you today. I had to make an example for the class and you ended up being the victim. Seniors tend to get lazy as the year goes on and I want to make sure everyone works hard until the end.”
“That’s O.K. It was no big deal,” said Marissa nonchalantly.
Then Ms. Prime looked her straight in the eyes and said, “You have a lot of potential Marissa. You are a very talented writer. Please keep that in mind and try not to let other things distract you.”
Marissa smiled warmly back at her teacher.
When she got to her car, she noticed the employment application on the passenger seat. She had almost forgotten her intention of getting a job that day. Somehow she had always been able to do just that, place her attention on something she wanted and she would get it. She wasn’t sure how but more often than not, it happened. And she was certain she was going to get a job at the medieval steakhouse.
On the way to the restaurant, Marissa listened to the new Cat Stevens tape Nick had given her. The music was calm and soothing, quite a change from The Cult or Guns and Roses. In a way, it appeared that all of her life was changing. Before Nick, she would have never considered listening to Cat Stevens. It seemed too seventies. But as she sang the lyrics, the music not only inspired her but also helped her connect to him.
I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul,
Where I end up, well I think,
Only God really knows…
With Nick that’s the way she really felt. In her logical mind, everything pointed to the fact that they shouldn’t be together. There was not one logical reason why it should work, except for their souls. Their souls blew together from opposite directions. And when their souls met, it was bliss. When their souls met, no explanation was needed except to the passerby who could only think with the logical mind.
Marissa felt inspired by this realization. Her body felt light and airy as she left the car and entered the restaurant where her body hit reality with a thud. A stout man with glasses was barking orders. She crept silently to the hostess stand and waited. The dining room was empty except for a couple of busboys setting tables. As she waited, she rocked back and forth from heel to toe and toe to heel skimming over the medieval décor. Finally the stout man addressed her in a raspy voice, which indicated he smoke way too much, “May I help you?”
Marissa put on her stage smile and said, “I’m here to apply for a job.” She held out the application.
The stout man punched out his pudgy hand and grabbed the piece of paper. “Hmm,” he grunted as he read. “You have any experience?”
Marissa continued to smile, “I’ve never been a waitress before but I’ve been a hostess. Sir, I understand you have a server training program.”
“It’s full,” he grumbled.
“Oh,” said Marissa with disappointment. “When will another training program open up?”
“Don’t know. I need experienced servers. Can’t have all these beginners.”
“If you train me sir, I can learn fast,” Marissa pleaded not understanding why he wouldn’t consider her.
“I’m sorry Miss…” he stopped to squint at her application, “Marissa. But I will let you know when there’s an opening.”
Behind her, from the swinging doors, someone made his grand entrance. The man in question sang loudly, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me…” As the singing man was coming closer he shouted out, “Helloooo Robert,” emphasizing the ‘o’ of hello and the ‘r’ of Robert.
The stout man named Robert grunted again, “You’re late again Chip!”
“Oh no, I’m not late dear Robert,” Chip said cheerfully, “everyone else is simply too early.” Then turning to Marissa, Chip said, “Youuuuu look so familiar. How do I know you? Let me think.” He tapped his forehead with his forefinger then clapped his hands and said, “I got it! You’re the vegetarian girl who came here to not eat steak on her birthday.”
Marissa smiled coyly and said, “Yes, ironic wasn’t it?”
Chip clapped his hands again and pointed at her, “Chip never forgets a face. And you’re here for a job. I remember, you asked me for an application and your mother, stiff lady isn’t she, was all like ‘you can’t work on school nights’. And you were like ‘Mom, I’m eighteen now I can do what I want!’,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.
Marissa laughed at Chip’s imitation.
Robert turned to Marissa, “You still in school?”
“Yes, but I’m a senior this year and I get out early everyday.”
“Cause I don’t hire any part-timers. All of my servers work full-time here,” said Robert gruffly.
“I can work full-time,” said Marissa enthusiastically.
“O.K. well, I’ll let you know when there’s an opening,” said Robert.
Chip turned to Robert, “You mean you’re not going to hire this fine lady?”
“She doesn’t have any experience and I have no one to train her,” Robert said more softly this time.
Like a thespian, Chip crossed his arms and tapped his foot, as if to say, “Notice me, love me.”
Robert shook his head. “No, Chip you’ve already got two new servers working under you. I’m not going to give you a third.”
Chip pursed his lips into a pout and stared at Robert with puppy dog eyes.
Robert rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, all right. She’s yours. But she messes up and your ass is out of here.”
Chip rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, fussy, fussy, fussy.” Then motioning to Marissa said, “Come now, I’ll get you a uniform.”
Marissa had forgotten about the medieval attire. She would have to wear a long gown while she was learning to serve tables.
On the way to the stock room, Chip reassured her, “Don’t pay any attention to Robert. He’s just a cranky old man. Needs to get laid, if you ask me. But really, really deep down he’s a nice guy. Just try to do what he asks.”
Marissa nodded and asked, “Why is he nice to you?”
“He’s my uncle. He has to be nice. I’ve always been his favorite nephew and now I drive him crazy. But I’m his most dedicated server so he can’t fire me,” Chip confided.
After he handed Marissa the gown she said, “Thanks Chip for helping me get the job. You didn’t have to do that.”
Chip waved the compliment off saying, “I’m just helping you defy your mother. I hate parents who are too strict. Like lay off your kids already, let them grow. You know, like let them develop their own wings.”
Marissa liked Chip at once.
“Now be here tomorrow at four thirty sharp! I’ll probably be late but Robert will sear your behind if you’re late. Got it!”
Marissa nodded her head obediently.
“Bring pens, paper, and a wine opener, a fancy one like this,” he said holding up a wine opener. “Any questions?”
“No.”
“Good. See you tomorrow.”
Marissa shook Chip’s hand and left with a bounce in her step. She had gotten the job. Now she could work on paying for scho
ol in California, or at least the first year.
Barbara pulled into the driveway at the same time as Marissa and looked at her with disapproval. “Where have you been?”
“I got a job,” said Marissa happily.
“I hope you told them you couldn’t work during the school week,” Barbara said emphatically.
“Mom, we’ve been through this. I need to work during the week. They don’t hire waitresses part-time.”
“How are you going to manage school, homework and work?” asked Barbara.
“I’ll manage.”
“And your chores?”
“And my chores.”
“You’re not going to have much of a social life,” explained Barbara.
“I don’t have much of one now,” said Marissa annoyed.
Barbara huffed, “Well, why not. You have plenty of friends.”
It was no use going into detail. She wasn’t about to explain her life to her mother anyway. “I know. It’s just everyone is really busy all the time,” explained Marissa with sadness. “And now I have to work so I will be busy all the time.”
“You don’t have to work,” snapped Barbara.
“You said you wouldn’t pay for California. So, yes I have to work,” Marissa snapped back.
“You know you can always go to college in-state.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Marissa stated firmly.
Pamela opened the door for them. “Hey what’s up?”
“I got a job!” Marissa announced.
“At the steakhouse?” asked Pamela.
“Yes. I’ll be waitressing. I’m so geeked. Actually, do you remember our waiter from the other night? Chip?”
Pamela’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, the really cute one?”
“Yeah that’s him. He’s the one who helped me get the job.”
“No way!”
“Way. His uncle is the manager or the owner or something and Chip convinced him to hire me.”
Forbidden Fruit: An Unlikely Love Story Page 13