Life in the No-Dating Zone

by Patricia B Tighe

  I finally met her concerned gaze. “No.”

  Mimi leaned forward, an earnest look on her face. “Just tell me one thing, okay? Did you make the vow because of me? Because you’re afraid you’re going to end up like me?”

  What could I say? Mimi and Carl were only part of the reason. “Kinda yes and kinda no. I mean, I do want to go to a good college … so I really need to make good grades and stuff. I don’t have a lot of time to get involved in relationships.”

  She stared like she could see through my head to the Sydney Opera House poster on the wall behind me. “I think there’s more to it.”

  I went over to the dresser and placed Captain Jack right between Luke Skywalker and the TIE Fighter pilot. It’s okay to be different. I don’t have to do things like everyone else. I don’t have to date if I don’t want to. Everything can stay the same. Nothing has to change.

  “Claire?”

  “People leave,” I whispered. I really didn’t know where those words had come from. Or why I had been so stupid to say them out loud. But I had. And from the look on Mimi’s face, she’d heard me.

  She came to where I stood. “Did you say ‘people leave’?”

  I couldn’t find my voice. I had nothing.

  Mimi dragged me to the bed and made me sit. “Tell me what you meant.”

  It was a command, but she didn’t sound harsh. Only freaked out. I still couldn’t talk. How in the heck did I get myself in this situation?

  “Were you talking about me leaving to marry Carl? Because you know that even if I’d never met him or dated anybody, I would’ve left to go to college or move into an apartment with some friends. It had nothing to do with dating. C’mon, Clairey, you’ve got to tell me more. I’m trying to understand.”

  “I don’t—” I didn’t know where I was going with that sentence, so I just stopped. What was I going to do? I thought she already knew about Mom and Dad, but it was starting to look like she didn’t.

  “I left. Did somebody else leave? Who are you talking about?”

  A knock sounded. Mom came in holding out Mimi’s cell. “Sorry to interrupt. You left this downstairs. It’s Carl.”

  Mimi gave me a “this isn’t over yet” look before taking the phone from Mom and walking out the door.

  Mom stared at my desk with its piles of LEGO bricks. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Yup.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I’d rather become a tiny LEGO figure. “Nope.”

  “Okay. I’m—” A buzzer went off in the distance. Mom glanced out my bedroom door.

  “That’s the dryer, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She headed out. “I’d better go take care of it.” In the hall, she leaned against the door frame, her face drawn and tired. “Let me know if you want to talk.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I shut the door behind her.

  Phone calls, dryers buzzing—I’d take it. Anything to save from having to wander down the trail of feelings. I switched the Pirates soundtrack back on and got to work.

  Thirty-One

  Gray

  My blood hit the top half of the TV screen for the third time in a row.

  “Yes!” Berger said. “You got owned!”

  “Shut up.” I tossed my game controller onto the couch, completely disgusted with myself. “If you hadn’t been screen-watching—”

  “Oh, right. Blame your sucky play on that.” He blasted through his last two kills. “Besides, you know me—whatever works.”

  I grunted, then rubbed at the dull ache that had settled right behind my eyes. Time for more caffeine. I hoisted myself up. “Want something to drink?”

  “Yeah, but I’m coming with you. I don’t want any of that organic crap your dad buys. And you can tell me what the heck is wrong with you.”

  I ignored that last part. “You know he’s here, right?”

  “No.” Berger looked around like an escaped prisoner. “You think he heard me?”

  “Nah. He’s in his office working.”

  Berger shoved me. “Jerk.”

  I laughed. Once in the kitchen, I opened the pantry. “Let’s see, my dad supposedly went to the store while we were at our mom’s place.” What was it about staring into the pantry that automatically made me hungry? I craned my neck, but couldn’t tell what was on the top shelf where my dad usually hid stuff from my brothers. I elbowed Berger, who was taller. “See anything up there?”

  “Uh, spaghetti, couscous—gross—wait, there’s a twelve-pack of Dr. Pepper in the back.”

  “Great. You get a couple of cans. I have to get the non-see-through cups.”

  “Cool. I love this sneaky stuff. If your brothers come in and want to know what we’re drinking, I’ll say poison, okay?”

  “Whatever.” I pulled out the cups and filled them with ice. “My dad buys it for me, so I don’t complain—just follow the rules.”

  He handed me a can and started filling his cup. “That’s our Grayson, such a good little rule-follower.”

  I laughed. “As if you’re such a rebel.”

  “No, but I like to keep my super-villain identity a secret.”

  “Sorry, bro, everyone already knows.” I opened the refrigerator and tossed packages of cheese and deli meat onto the counter.

  Berger adjusted his wire-framed glasses. “They just think they know. But they know not what evil dwells in the city’s underbelly, where men are pitted against rats the size of llamas, and women run wild and free as mustangs on the prairie. Where only one teenager can free them and rid the world of its pestilence.”

  I took out the mustard and mayo. “Llamas? Grab the bread and those pretzels over there, will you?”

  Items in hand, Berger followed me to the kitchen table. “Didn’t you eat lunch like an hour ago?”

  “Yeah, but we went to one of those Greek places my mom and Mel like.”

  He took a napkin from the stand in the center of the table and opened the bread. “Since when do you not like Greek food?”

  “It’s okay, I guess. I just wasn’t in the mood.” I threw together a turkey sandwich.

  “Right,” he said, meticulously spreading mustard. “Emo day. I forgot. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I said, and bit into my sandwich to buy time. I didn’t really want to talk about what had happened last night, mostly because I was still so confused. Why the heck had I wanted to kiss Claire? I couldn’t get the scene in the car out of my head. And it was really weirding me out. At least I hadn’t woken up this morning in love with Rose. Not much evidence of my sanity, but enough for now.

  Berger slurped his drink. “So did your stalker come to the party last night wielding a knife?”

  “Right. That would happen.”

  “Okay, then. A baseball bat.”

  “Really? Fascinating.”

  He placed a slice of bread on top of his heap of deli meat. “C’mon. I have to guess. You’re no help.”

  “It was a college party. Nyssa wasn’t even there.”

  He sat back. “Oh. Who was there?”

  “You want a list?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad, just tell me what happened.”

  I took another bite of my sandwich. My brothers’ arguing voices echoed from upstairs. They weren’t yelling yet, so I could stay here and eat. And try to deflect Berger’s questions.

  “So you gonna tell me? Or are you gonna let me slide into an oblivion where I don’t really … care … anymore … ” He slumped in his chair, letting his head fall forward.

  “Man. You’re just like those drama geeks. I don’t know why you don’t take a theater class.”

  “Maybe someday.” He eyed me, his cheek bulging as he chewed.

  I could wait him out. But if I tried to change the subject right away, he’d jump all over it. I had to be subtle. “The party was like any other party you’ve ever gone to.”

  “So drinking, dancing, hookups?”

  “Yeah.”

&nb
sp; “Insecurity, angst, fights?”

  “Probably. We didn’t stay very long.” I had to resist the urge to ask him what he’d done last night. It was too soon in the conversation.

  He took a long slurp of his soda. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. It was kinda weird with all those college kids. Definitely felt out of place. Besides, getting home early got my mom off my back some.”

  Berger didn’t say anything. He stared off into the distance, his eyebrows pinched together, finishing the last bite of his food. What the heck did that mean? I could usually read his face pretty well. But he wasn’t talking. And that by itself was unusual.

  A shout came from upstairs, then laughter. Maybe the noise would distract Berger enough that I could change the subject. “So, what did you do last—”

  “Right. Since you’re not going to tell me anything, I’m gonna help you break this down.”

  “What? We don’t need to talk—”

  “Yeah, we do. Because I want to play more video games and you need to get all those females out of your head so you can focus.” He set his elbows on the table and threaded his fingers together. “Let’s see, three girls. First you’ve got the shy stalker—who’s really pretty, by the way—”

  “Then you date her.”

  “Don’t interrupt. I’m thinking out loud here. Okay, Shy Stalker Girl, who thinks you’re God’s gift to movie theater patrons.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Maybe not so much anymore.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Not me. Lindsey basically called her a creeper yesterday at breakfast. In front of everyone.”

  “Harsh. Okay, Shy Stalker Girl, who was publicly embarrassed. Who knows what she’ll do next, if anything.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Then you’ve got the Crush—”

  “Seriously? I hate that word.”

  “Yo. You gonna let me finish or what?”

  “I just hate that word.”

  “So you’ve said. How about … the Drama Queen? Huh? Huh? See what I did there?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  “Yeah, yeah. Very nice.”

  “Okay, the Drama Queen, a seriously hot girl you can actually talk to now without looking like you’d rather be giving yourself a swirly … which is good. But she showed her claws to sweet Stalker Girl, which is bad. But then something happened with her at the party that you don’t want to tell me … ”

  Deflect. Deflect. “What? You read minds now?”

  He laughed. “Not everyone’s. But yours is pretty transparent. I’ll have to start calling you Bubble-Head, because I can see right inside.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “So?”

  Berger had that determined look in his eye. The one that said I could either tell him or walk out the door. And since he’d probably just sit there until I got back, I should just get it over with. “Lindsey and I kissed.”

  “Ah, major progress, which for some lunatic reason is bothering you.”

  “She was toasted. Then started crying. Probably over Adam.”

  Berger grinned. “Your kissing ability reduced her to tears.” He shook his head and sighed. “Very bad.”

  “Ha, ha.” Funny, but kind of loud. I looked toward the hall leading to my dad’s office. “Keep it down. I don’t want to have to explain this.”

  “Hey, he can just ask me. I’ve got it all figured out.”

  “No, thanks.” I stood to cart everything back to the kitchen.

  “Wait. I’m not finished.”

  I sank back into my seat. Why was it that the closer he got to talking about Claire the more I wanted to clean up the kitchen? If I didn’t do something quick, Berger would figure everything out. I tugged my pull-back-and-go car out of my pocket and made it spin.

  “So anyway, you’re pretty sure Drama Queen is still into Evil Boyfriend. Which is bad. What will happen? Stay tuned.” He folded his napkin into quarters slowly, making me wait for his final analysis. My fingers tightened so much on the wheels of the little car that it stopped.

  “Which brings us to Yoda,” Berger said.

  Thirty-Two

  Gray

  That actually made me laugh. “Yoda? Really?”

  “I was gonna call her Obi-Wan, but she’s cute and little just like Yoda—”

  “Yoda’s cute?”

  “—and you can strap her to your back when you trail ride or do flips through your yard.”

  “Flips.”

  “You know when you rebound off the roof and then swing into the trees.” Berger jumped up like he was grabbing onto a vine.

  “Oh that. I’m a little out of practice.”

  “Yoda won’t mind. I’m sure she can hang on just fine.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I try. Anyway, she’s been training you to deal with Drama Queen all while keeping Stalker Girl at bay. You’ve been spending most of your time with Yoda, right?”

  I stood up and slipped the little car into my pocket. I just couldn’t sit there anymore. I took the lunch meat and cheese to the refrigerator. “Of those three girls, yeah.”

  “So spill it, Bubble-Head.”

  “Toss me the bread.”

  Berger sent the bread flying in a high arc. I set it in the breadbasket, then went back to the table for the mustard and mayo.

  “Okay, since you won’t tell me,” he said, “I’ll guess. You argued about the steps to take with Drama Queen. Yoda wanted you to use the Force and get Drama Queen to kiss you again, but you went the noble route and refused. I know how you like to only use your powers for good.”

  I couldn’t do anything but stare at him. “How many times did your parents drop you on your head?”

  “Not sure, but it was probably a prime number. They’re meticulous like that.”

  I shook my head and turned away, holding onto the mustard and mayo containers. Good thing they were plastic—I didn’t trust myself to get them all the way to the refrigerator. All because the stupid image of Claire with Sean Hatcher had bulldozed into my head again.

  I put the stuff in the fridge and slammed the door. Berger watched me, an expectant look on his face.

  “Caught Claire making out with Sean Hatcher.” Just saying the words made my hands clench.

  “No way.” Berger whistled through his teeth. “She got Seaned.”

  “Not completely. We interrupted them before they’d gotten very far.”

  “Wow. Okay. Sounds like a crazy party. Anything else happen? Baby sacrifices? Drug deals? Anything I need to know before I sum up?”

  There was no freaking way I was telling him I’d wanted to kiss Claire. “No.”

  He brought the bag of pretzels to the kitchen island. “So last night you caught Yoda kissing Sean Hatcher, which made you really mad, a.k.a. jealous.”

  What the heck? “I wasn’t jealous. I was pissed at how stupid she was being.” I grabbed the pretzels and put them away.

  “’Cause she’s not usually stupid.”

  “No. Claire has a lot of common sense, and I know she makes good grades in school. She’s really smart.”

  “Hmm. Really does sound like a stupid move for her to kiss Hatcher.”

  I leaned against the kitchen counter. “I know, right? What was she thinking?”

  He pursed his lips. “Who knows? Could’ve been worse, though. She could’ve kissed a drunk girl who has a boyfriend.”

  He set me up. The jerk set me up. I raised my hands. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m stupid, too. I shouldn’t be so hard on Claire.”

  Berger smirked, then went back to his chair. “You know, I’m thinking about asking Yoda out.”

  “What?” It took me a good three seconds to get the movie character out of my head. But once I settled on Claire and Berger together, all the muscles in my body tensed. He couldn’t be serious. Could he?

  He laced his fingers behind his head. “I mean, she’s crazy cute. I love how little she is. She’s just the perfect s
ize to sit on your lap and—”

  “Shut. Up!” The words rumbled out of me, along with a pounding need to choke Berger out.

  He froze for a second, his mouth hanging open. Then he busted out laughing. “You should see your face.”

  My pulse hammered in my ears. “It’s not funny.”

  He kept laughing. “If you really think about it, it is.”

  I held onto the counter with both hands so I wouldn’t wrap them around his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He wiped his eyes. “Listen, if I had said that about Lindsey, would you have freaked out?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  “No, seriously. Think about it.”

  I paced around the kitchen island. Lindsey sitting on Berger’s lap. Would that bother me? Maybe. I don’t know. Not really. Probably because guys were always around her. I was used to thinking I had a lot of competition.

  But it wasn’t the same with Claire. She was my friend. She wasn’t always surrounded by guys. Maybe I felt like I had to protect her. Was that what this crazed feeling was? Just thinking about her with Berger sent spikes of hot and cold all through me, like if I didn’t do something to stop it, I’d go nuts. Maybe I was getting sick.

  Berger studied me like I was a science project. No. More like he thought I was as thick as the granite counter. I had to get away from his stare. I retreated to the game room and dropped onto the couch. Stared at the video game image on the TV screen without really seeing it.

  All I wanted was to go over to Claire’s house and listen to her give me advice about Lindsey. Or help her take care of Jack. Or watch her eat and cut things into tiny bites. I just wanted to be around her.

  The couch cushions dipped when Berger sat down. But he didn’t say anything. Neither did I. A realization dawned, inching its breath-sucking way up my torso, and causing me to double over until I held my head in my hands.

  I liked Claire.

  I really liked Claire. More than I liked Lindsey. More than I’d ever liked any girl. And my chest wanted to burst with a weird mixture of happiness and panic. And the need for oxygen.

  “Aah,” I said, then swore. Loud enough that I twisted around to see if my little brothers were anywhere close by.