Paper or Plastic

by Vivi Barnes

  “No big deal,” Syd said. “I’ll make sure he knows what happened.”

  Bryce nodded. “I’ll tell him, too. He’s not an ass—he’ll get it.” But underneath the reassuring words was a nervous tone that told me Bryce wasn’t so sure. He played, too. He knew.

  “She’s going home,” my mother said as she walked up. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Alexis needs rest. I’d appreciate it if you told her coach.”

  Syd and Bryce nodded and offered reassurances as my mother steered me to the car. I knew better than to argue with her. It didn’t matter, anyway. I was already forming Plan B in my mind.

  As soon as we got home, I took two ibuprofen and told her I was going up to my room and to please leave me alone until dinnertime. She agreed, touching my cheek fondly. Her sincere concern made me almost feel bad about lying to her.

  As soon as I got to my room, I looked at my phone. Noah’s number was still in my recent calls folder. Most of my friends were already at the field. Bryce would be getting ready for his tournament, so he’d have left.

  I pressed Noah’s number.

  A couple rings later, he answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Lex. I need to ask a huge favor.”

  12

  A half hour later, we were on the way to the field in Noah’s beat-up SUV. It took a bit of tiptoeing to get out through the back door, around the pool, and back to the front of the house, but thankfully my mother was in the kitchen and totally oblivious. I didn’t even want Grandma to see me. I figured on the question of my health, she’d be right there with my mother.

  I arranged my hair across my forehead to cover the bruised egg so Noah wouldn’t freak out and tell me to stay home, too. Once I got to the field, I’d be good to go.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” I told him. “I hope I didn’t bug you in the middle of something.”

  “Oh, yeah, no. I mean, sure. No, you didn’t bother me. I was just sketching and stuff.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah. I was kind of surprised you called. Not that it’s a bad thing,” he said quickly. “But I didn’t think I’d be first on your list.”

  “Most people are already out at the field.” I smiled at him. “Lucky for me that you didn’t have to work today.”

  His responding smile was genuine, sweet, heart-melting, and I really wished he’d cut it out. It was so hard to concentrate on anything when he turned on the Smile to Kill All Rational Thought.

  When we got to the field, I climbed out of the SUV and grabbed my bag with my mitt and bat. Leaving the car running, Noah got out and walked around to my side. “Thanks again,” I told him, setting down the bag to pull a hair tie from my pocket. “I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. Well, I guess I’ll see you…” He stopped, staring at my forehead as I pulled my hair back. Oh crap. I let it fall back around my face, but it was too late.

  Noah raised his hand to gently brush my hair back. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice low.

  I pushed his hand away and smiled widely. “Got hit with a ball at camp today. It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what really happened?” His gaze was direct. What did he think happened?

  “Trust me, I remember. One of the little kids accidentally clocked me with a ball when I wasn’t paying attention. My mom didn’t want to take me to practice because she was worried. Which is nuts—I’m totally fine. Not even a little headache.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “If you got hurt that badly, maybe you shouldn’t—”

  “Noah, stop. I said I’m fine.” I picked up my bag again and walked away, pausing to say, “Thanks for the ride. I’ll catch you later.”

  I hurried to the field without looking back, reassuring people as I passed them that I was okay.

  Syd was warming up when I approached her. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. My mother incarnate. “I’m surprised your mom changed her mind,” she said.

  “She didn’t.”

  “Who got you here, then?”

  “Just…someone. Are you ready to practice or are you going to give me a hard time, too?”

  She tisked again but backed away and tossed the ball to me. A few minutes later, Maggie walked over to ask if I could throw with her. Regardless of what Holly said before, I couldn’t just ignore her. So I said, “Sure,” and moved over to practice a few pitches with her. Coach Santiago said he was glad to see me “finally” and didn’t say anything about my forehead. He complimented Maggie on her pitches and didn’t say anything about mine. Which was unnerving, to say the least, but there wasn’t anything I could do but pitch the hell out of my arm. Hopefully he’d notice anyway. The man was hard-core, but he was a good coach.

  At one point, I glanced over at the short metal bleachers and noticed Noah sitting there, watching. Probably waiting to see if I’d keel over or something. Still, the fact that he cared enough to stay was sweet and totally in line with everything I knew about him.

  After practice ended, I wandered over to the bleachers, well aware that Syd hadn’t left yet. She was in deep conversation with Emily Grace, probably discussing their upcoming switch of positions. Oh, well. If Syd saw me talking to him, so be it. I kind of hoped she did notice. I needed to be able to confide in someone.

  “Hey,” I said to Noah as he jumped down from the top metal bench.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “You stayed for the whole thing?”

  “Yep.” He smiled. “You have a good arm.”

  I knew I was blushing—I could feel the burn in my cheeks. “Thanks. I like to play.” I like to play? What am I, five?

  “So you said you have a game next Saturday?”

  “Yeah, Saturday night after work. We scrimmage with another local team. It’s not a real game—just a practice game that doesn’t count.”

  His deep blue eyes transfixed me to the point where I couldn’t remember what I was saying anymore. I cleared my voice and continued. “It’s not like people come to scrimmage games or anything.” And Bryce would be there. Don’t say you’ll be there…don’t say you’ll come…

  “I’ll come.”

  My heart soared—damn it. I didn’t want to get him into a fight with Bryce. I didn’t want them anywhere near each other. But at the same time, I was glad he’d offered. “Thanks.”

  “Lex?” a voice said behind me.

  Here we go. I turned to see Syd approaching, her fingers tugging at her ponytail as she stared at us. Or more specifically—stared at Noah. “Hey, Syd. You remember Noah Grayson from school?”

  “Um, yeah.” Her direct look at me clearly said, Do you?

  “He works with me at SmartMart.”

  “Oh.” She smiled politely as she shook Noah’s extended hand. “Nice to meet you.” She turned to me. “I was just going to see if you needed a ride home.” Her eyes flickered to Noah uncertainly.

  “I can give you a ride,” he spoke up quickly. “I really don’t mind.”

  Every fiber of my inner being said yes to Noah. But that would leave Syd open to calling Court, and Court and Bryce were absolutely the last people I wanted to know about Noah. It might’ve been better if they had seen him at SmartMart that first day and commiserated about how awful it was that I had to work with him than know that we were friends.

  “I’d better go home with Syd,” I told Noah. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

  “Okay,” he said. “See you Monday?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He headed back to his beat-up SUV. I walked with Syd to her car, but as soon as Noah drove away, she grabbed my arm. “Spill. Now.”

  I sighed and shook my arm loose. “He’s a friend. Well, really, he’s my boss.”

  “Wait, that’s the hot manager you talked about?” She snorted.

  “What?” I asked, annoyed, though I’d known this was going to happen.

  “Oh Lex, you’re going out with your boss, w
ho happens to go to our school, who happens to be that slimy kid who told on Bryce and got him suspended and turned the whole school against him. Yeah, I think you can guess what’s what.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m not going out with him. And he’s not slimy—he’s a really nice guy. So what if he happened to tell on Bryce for spray-painting private property? Nobody seems to remember that Bryce was being an idiot for doing that in the first place. No, all they remember is that Noah told on him.”

  “And that’s all they’re ever going to remember,” Syd said, her tone dead serious. She tilted her head a little. “You like this guy?”

  “I…I don’t know. He’s a friend. That’s all. And barely that—he’s my manager.”

  She sighed. “You know this is a hard one to take sides on, don’t you? I don’t care how long ago it was, it was still pretty sucky for him to tell on Bryce. And you know Bryce is going to be pissed.”

  “I know. And I’m not asking you to take sides. Just please, please don’t say anything to Bryce or to Court. Just pretend like it didn’t happen, that’s all I ask.”

  “Mistake.”

  “Maybe. Still—please trust me.”

  She sighed heavily. “Okay. You like him. I know you do. I mean, look at him—he’s tall, dark, and hot. What happened to him, anyway? I remember him being this scrawny guy who couldn’t put two words together, not even when Bryce was cussing him out.”

  I brushed away the memory of Bryce screaming at Noah. Even if we were only in ninth grade, and even if getting kicked off the team meant he lost his position for a while, Bryce had acted like a jerk toward him. I didn’t want to admit it then, or really even now, but it was true. And it made me wonder, if Maggie ended up in my position as starting pitcher, would I hate her as much? I had to hope not.

  “You really think Noah’s hot?” I asked as we got into Syd’s blisteringly hot car. She cranked on the air so high it almost swallowed her words.

  “Oh yeah. Great eyes. Too bad he kept them hidden for so long.”

  And just like that, everything was okay again. Bryce and Court would be a different story, of that I was sure. But maybe they didn’t have to know. Not for a while, at least. Having Syd know about Noah was enough, and it was such a relief, like someone popped a couple of the overfilled balloons in my chest. I could breathe again.

  At least until I got home.

  13

  As soon as I tried to sneak back in the house, my mother was waiting for me, arms crossed. Grandma sat in her chair, her face unusually grim. Uh-oh.

  “What is wrong with you?” my mother yelled. “You were supposed to be upstairs resting.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t miss practice.”

  “I was so worried. I took a cup of tea to your room and you weren’t even in there.”

  Tea? Oh, man…

  “Do you know how scared I was?”

  “I know, I’m really sorry. I left a note on my bed.”

  “Yes, a note that told me you were going back to that practice where you got hurt in the first place. That was supposed to make me feel better?”

  And the award for World’s Worst Daughter…

  She crossed her arms tightly, as if doing so would press down all the anger and hurt inside. “Sorry isn’t good enough. I’m going to have to pull you from softball during the summer.”

  The grief inside me at hurting my mother turned into a bitter knot in my chest. “Mom, you can’t do that.” I fought to keep my voice level.

  “I can and I am. You need to understand—”

  “The only thing I understand is that my coach will replace me as pitcher if you do this. Permanently.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “No, I’m not. I already know they’ve been talking about it because I’ve missed too many practices for my stupid job.”

  “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

  I stared first at her, then at my grandma, who was wearing a sympathetic expression but didn’t say anything. What could she say? When my mother made up her mind, nothing could change it. I turned and stomped up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. Unbelievable. Yes, I got that it was wrong not to tell my mother where I was going. I didn’t blame her for being mad. But canceling my entire summer’s softball practice?

  I peeled off my clothes and slipped a T-shirt over my head. Now what? I could text Syd—she’d be mad as hell on my behalf. I opened up my text messages and started scrolling, hesitating at the sight of Noah’s name. I opened the conversation and typed.

  I’m grounded from softball the rest of the summer. Thanks a lot Mom.

  Another minute later before his response came. The entire summer? Why?

  Because I sneaked out today.

  Oh. That sucks.

  Tell me about it.

  A tap on the door sounded. It didn’t take long—it never did. My grandma was always good for a hug. I walked to the door and opened it.

  My mother. Great.

  I crossed my arms. “What? Screwing up my life not enough now?”

  “Well, I’d like to talk to you if you can put your attitude on hold for a few minutes.”

  She pushed past me to walk over to my bed, crossing her legs elegantly as she sat. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” she said, and her voice had lost its edge. More tired than anything. Her eyes were pink-tinged—had she cried?

  “Nothing’s gotten into me.”

  “Then why the rebellious act?”

  I groaned and sank down next to her on the bed. “Look, Mom, you of all people should know how important softball is to me.”

  I threw the “of all people” without really meaning it. She never did understand, and I didn’t expect her to. But she nodded anyway.

  “I know. And I’ve been supportive of it.”

  I decided to ignore that. If she was feeling supportive now, I didn’t want to ruin it. “Look, I’m already missing some practices because of my job, and with our tournament coming up in a few weeks, I can’t afford to miss more. Holly showed up at work the other day with Maggie Martin and said Coach is going to replace me with Maggie if I keep missing practices. Permanently. And I believe it. She’s already gotten better this summer, and Coach doesn’t accept excuses for being late. If I don’t show, I’m going to lose my spot as primary pitcher or even get kicked off the team completely. All the work I did for nothing. And then forget about being team captain next year.”

  My voice cracked. It was like I could see my dreams dissolving into a cloud of dust. Coach Santiago was probably a nice guy off the fields, but understanding was not in his nature.

  Mom stared at the floor for a couple minutes, not speaking. “If I were to let you go back to practice,” she said slowly, “would you stop acting like the world’s against you and try being a part of this family again? Actually help out with Aurora’s pageant needs and stop complaining about them?”

  My heart fluttered to hear her say “back to practice.” I barely registered what she was saying about being part of the family again, but I nodded earnestly.

  She sighed and put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into her, trying not to inhale too much of her strong flowery perfume. The hug felt good. Not as comfortable or familiar as Grandma’s, but still nice.

  “And I’m taking you shopping this weekend whether you like it or not. Your underwear is fraying at the edges.” She lifted the hem of my T-shirt slightly and clicked her tongue. I tugged it down to cover myself, but she was already standing to leave. She hesitated. “I hope you know that I love you,” she said quickly. “I may not always say it, but I do.”

  She closed the door softly and left me alone. My phone buzzed. I picked it up to see a text from Noah.

  Are you okay?

  I inhaled deeply and texted him back. Yep. Softball is still on. =)

  I set the phone down and stared at the closed door. My mother’s words were unusually kind and sincere. Not in the form of a backhanded
compliment, not followed up with snark or even a comparison to Rory. For the moment, I could pretend I was just as important in my mother’s life as my perfect sister. For the moment, I could believe she accepted me for exactly who I was. And though I knew it would only last until the next time I disappointed her, I relished the tenderness.

  In the morning, I found Grandma sitting in her chair downstairs, toothbrush in her hand as she watched TV. I gently removed it from her grip, startling her. “I think you forgot to leave this in the bathroom.”

  She glanced at the brush. “Odd,” she mumbled, turning her gaze back to the screen. I shook my head and ran the toothbrush upstairs to her bathroom, then headed back down to the kitchen, past Rory at the counter where she was eating pancakes. My mother was arguing with my dad, which was becoming the norm around here.

  She turned to me as I sat at the table. “By the way, Alexis, I need you at Rory’s pageant in a couple weeks.”

  “I can’t—I’m working. SmartMart, remember?” I smiled inwardly—thank you, O Scheduling Gods of SmartMart, for making sure I work every Saturday. “Hey Dad, is Grandma taking the medicine when she’s supposed to?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but honey, remember, the medicine is part of a clinical trial. It’s not supposed to cure her.”

  I ignored him. He always told me not to get my hopes up, but the doctors thought it would help, so I believed them. That’s why they were doctors, for heaven’s sake.

  Mom snapped her fingers between us. “Still talking here. You’ll just have to call off work. Rory needs you.”

  “I can’t just call off. It doesn’t work that way.”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “It’s a job, Alexis. Call in sick or something.”

  “This isn’t kindergarten, Mom. If I’m scheduled, I need to show up. I have responsibilities.” I wasn’t opposed to calling in if I really needed or wanted to, but definitely not for some stupid pageant. No way.

  She didn’t say anything for a minute. Then her lips pulled slowly upward. I was in shock—was that an approving kind of smile? She tilted her chin slightly toward my dad, who was nodding at me. “See?” she said triumphantly to him. “I told you, this has been the best possible thing for Alexis. She’s finally learning responsibility.”