Oh, Brother!

by Cochran, Peg

  “Not so hot? You’ve got to be kidding. She’s gorgeous.” I put back the CD I was holding.

  Going to the mall was my mother’s idea. She said she was tired of me moping around the house and being all sulky. I should have guessed that someone like Travis would already have a girlfriend. It was just that I thought he might be a teensy bit interested in me. Okay, in my heart of hearts, I didn’t really believe it, but I thought maybe, just this once…

  By Monday morning I wasn’t feeling a whole lot better. Especially with my mother going around with that chirpy voice of hers reminding me about our dinner with Mark what’s-his-face next weekend. Ugh. As if that were going to cheer me up.

  I was in the girls room before my first class when Amber, Tory and Laurel strolled in. They elbowed me aside and crowded around the mirror to brush their hair and check their make-up.

  “You’ll never believe what I just heard!” Tory was rimming her lower lids with black eye liner. She looked funny with her mouth half-open and her eyelid pulled down.

  She closed her mouth and turned around to face Amber and Laurel.

  “Well, tell us!” Amber sounded cross. She was peering into the mirror examining an imaginary spot on her face.

  “I just heard. Travis and Kristen have broken up. They had a big argument after the dance on Saturday. She said she’s tired of never being able to do anything since his band is always playing some place.”

  Amber smiled just like Clementine does when she’s caught a mouse. She pointed at me. “Got yourself a boyfriend yet Miss Lucy Love?”

  Tory and Lauren stood there smirking.

  “Well, almost...I’m kind of like...working on it.”

  “Why don’t you go after Travis then? You heard,” she jerked a thumb in Tory’s direction. “He and Kristen have just broken up.”

  Tory and Lauren really started laughing then, and so did Amber.

  “Don’t worry,” Amber shook her head at me, “there’s no way he’d ever waste time on someone like you.” She looked at Tory and Lauren. “If anyone is going to be Travis’ next girlfriend, it’s going to be me.”

  And she flounced out of the bathroom with Tory and Lauren right behind her.

  Honestly, I don’t think I heard a thing Mrs. French said the whole period. Amber’s words kept running through my head like a song. Travis and Kristen broken up. Travis and Kristen broken up. I wanted to jump up on my desk and yell it to the world, but of course I didn’t. Mrs. French would have had a cow. I don’t care what Amber thinks. Travis did notice me. He even knew my name.

  In fact, I think he might actually like me.

  I took up residence outside Travis’ classroom again. Mr. Belagio gave me a kind of funny look when he opened the door. I pretended to be studying something in my notebook. As if I had suddenly been struck by amnesia or something and needed to check the location of my next class. He didn’t say anything—just went back into the room to sit at his desk. You’d think he’d want to go to the teachers’ lounge or something.

  Amber passed me on her way out, talking to Brett Ventura, Central’s unbelievably conceited quarterback. Good. She wouldn’t be with Travis then.

  Travis was the last one out again. I was beginning to wonder if he was out sick or down at the office or something when he came through the door.

  He smiled when he saw me. My legs went all jelloid, my heart started that annoying thumping, and I couldn’t breath. I was ready to yell to Mr. Belagio that he’d better call 9-1-1 .

  “Mac, right?” Travis slouched against the wall. He was wearing that sweatshirt again with “Travesty” written on the front. “Thanks for coming to hear us play Saturday night. I hope you had a good time.”

  I nodded. It was hard to talk. I felt like something was squeezing my chest.

  The bell rang.

  “Listen, I’d better go.” Travis leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

  Once again I was rooted to the spot.

  I swear our French class lasted as long as the entire French revolution. I mean, how was I supposed to sit there and conjugate a bunch of stupid verbs when TRAVIS COOPER HAD KISSED ME! I hadn’t been able to tell anyone yet, and I felt like I was going to burst with the news. I thought of telling Kevin Austin, but I figured he wouldn’t be too interested. Guys just don’t understand the importance of stuff like that.

  I opened my notebook to a fresh page and began to doodle, “Mr. & Mrs. Travis Cooper”. “Mac Cooper.” “Mrs. Travis Cooper” over and over again. I decorated the page with hearts with our initials inside. Mme. Pacquin peered over my shoulder before I had a chance to turn the page and had a spazz. You’d think the French would be all for l’amour, right? But no, not Mme. Pacquin. Anyway I don’t think she’s really French, just Canadian or something like that.

  I turned to a fresh page in my notebook, and just to please her I began to doodle “Monsieur & Madame Travis Cooper” over and over again until the longest class in the history of the entire world finally ended.

  Unfortunately it was the beginning of the longest week on the face of the planet. I looked for Travis everywhere but didn’t see him. I heard he was out sick. Just my luck!

  Emily was pretty wowed by what had happened, but Celia was skeptical. That girl could make Tinkerbell depressed.

  I must have relived the whole kiss episode a million times each day. I was hoping to dream about it, but I just had really stupid dreams like the one where Bob Waldorf turned into a garden gnome on Mrs. French’s front lawn.

  All I wanted to do was THINK about what had happened, but my mother kept nattering on and on about dinner on Saturday to the point where I couldn’t wait for it to happen so I wouldn’t have to hear about it anymore.

  Saturday finally arrived, and my mother pestered me all day. “Aren’t you going to wash your hair?” “Does your outfit need to be ironed?” “Do you need a new pair of pantyhose?” I finally locked myself in my room to escape and spent the afternoon doodling Travis’ name all over pieces of paper.

  “MacKenzie? Are you getting ready?” My mother yelled through the closed door.

  “Yup. I’m getting ready right now.” In truth, I hadn’t even decided what to wear. I opened my closet and began to poke around in the back. I found my costume from the Halloween I went trick-or-treating as Cruella de Ville. I put on the scraggly gray and black wig and looked in the mirror. I looked really old. At least twenty-five.

  There was a knock at the door. “What?” I opened it.

  My mother screamed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Surely you’re not going to wear that...that...thing on your head, MacKenzie Daly.”

  I put up a hand. I’d forgotten about the wig.

  “Hurry up, or we’re going to be late.”

  I skulked back into my room and dove into the dark, mysterious recesses of my closet again. There was this skirt I knew my grandmother had given me last Christmas…

  I pulled it out triumphantly. It was dark brown corduroy with an inverted pleat in the front. The material was extremely stiff, and I’m sure it was capable of standing up all on its own. It was hideous, and it would be perfect. I cut the tags off and pulled it on.

  The thing came up to my armpits for goodness sake. I pulled on the beige turtleneck my grandmother had given me to go with it and tucked it in. I looked like some kind of torso-less wonder. Like a freak—a troll or a midget or something. Step right up ladies and gentleman and see the world’s only torso-less wonder. Yessiree, right here ladies and gents. Don’t miss this one-and-only opportunity.

  I found a pair of pantyhose in the back of my drawer. I think they were leftover from Easter or something. They were a hideous faux suntan color that made my legs look like artificial limbs. Come see the torso-less wonder with the artificial limbs. I would be quite a hit on the circus circuit no doubt.

  I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and tied it with this huge bow I used to wear for holidays when I was younger and didn’t know any better. Perfect. I
looked perfectly hideous. My mother would love it.

  “Why, MacKenzie, you look lovely, dear.” My mother glowed. “And I can see your pretty face for once.”

  It was hard not to smirk. Thank goodness I wasn’t going to see anyone I knew.

  In the end we had to hurry. I just couldn’t seem to get going. My mother said it was “passive-aggressive” resistance on my part. I have no idea what that means, but she took psychology in college and thinks she knows about those things even though she works in a bank now.

  We got to The Peking Palace and got out of the car. My pantyhose felt weird—like they were twisted or something.

  “Well go in the ladies room and fix them then,” my mother hissed at me when I told her. “I’ll find Mark and tell him you’re coming.”

  She couldn’t wait even a minute to see Mark what’s-his-face. Sheesh. You’d think they were kids or something.

  The ladies room was downstairs. They always are in Chinese restaurants. Even if there was no downstairs, they’d have to create one just so they could put the restrooms down there and not confuse their customers.

  The stall door was bent, and the lock was broken, but that didn’t matter. I leaned against the door and took deep breaths. Meeting Mark what’s-his-face and his son made this whole wedding thing seem more official. I know my mother’s been planning it for eons, but I kept putting it out of my mind—the way you do the thought of final exams or a trip to the dentist for a filling. If you don’t think about it, it doesn’t exist. And not thinking about it was dead easy considering I had Travis on my mind pretty much all the time.

  I took another deep breath and pushed away from the door. Time to get it over with.

  The restaurant was crowded, and with everyone’s voice raised at once, it sounded like they were babbling in Chinese or some other foreign language. I didn’t see my mother and Mark-what’s-his-face at first, but then my mother popped up in her seat and gave this goofy wave. I wanted to die.

  Mark what’s-his-face’s son had his back to me and in front of him was a platter with this huge fish on it. The head and tail were still on, and its eye stared up at me with this creepy, evil look. No way I was touching that thing. No thanks. Please order the chow mein for me. That’s creepy enough with those gross bean sprout thingies in it. My mother always gets upset when I pick them out and leave them on the side of my plate, but I don’t care.

  Mark what’s-his-face jumped up when I got to the table and so did his son.

  “Ah, here you are, MacKenzie. I’ve been looking forward to introducing you two young people.” He gave this really goofy grin. I don’t think he knew that he had something stuck between his front teeth. “This is my son, T.J. Travis John.” His son turned around and held out his hand.

  It was Travis Cooper.

  Chapter 7

  Dear Lucy Love,

  My boyfriend just broke up with me, and my life is terrible. What should I do?

  Sincerely,

  Heartbroken teen

  Dear Heartbroken,

  You think YOUR life is terrible? You should try mine.

  Yours,

  Lucy Love

  At first, all I could think about was the fact that here was Travis Cooper, lead singer of Travesty, super cool guy who had kissed me (okay, only on the cheek, but still), and I was dressed as the torso-less, artificial-limbed eighth wonder of the world. Why, oh why, hadn’t I worn something normal? Like my cool new jeans and top?

  Then reality hit. It hit so hard I almost fell over. I must have turned the color of the fish on the platter because both my mother and Mark what’s-his-face half rose from their seats. Travis pulled out the chair next to him, and I collapsed into it. Just my luck the cushion let out a noise like a fart. I tried making this sound with my throat to cover it up, but I think that only made it worse because my mother gave me this dirty look.

  Why didn’t I know that Travis Cooper was Mark’s son? Why didn’t I pay attention when my mother talked about him? And how on earth am I going to cope with the fact that as of the wedding next weekend, Travis Cooper is going to be my stepbrother!

  Dinner at the Peking Palace was interminable. That’s one of the few words I remember from Mrs. French’s vocab lists. It means something like lasting forever. Like as long as school or even math class. As long as church on Sunday. As long as a visit to the dentist. As long as...well you get the message.

  Mark what’s-his-face kept insisting that I try the fish. I suppose I can’t call him “what’s-his-face” any longer since I now know he’s Mark Cooper. I must not have been paying any attention when my mother told me his name. Besides, who would imagine someone as geeky as Mark would have a son as cool as Travis?

  “In China the guest of honor is always given the eye of the fish. It’s considered a delicacy. Would you like to try it?”

  Whoa. I’m not eating any fish, let alone eye of fish, but Mark wasn’t listening. He pried the eyeball out with a chopstick and plopped it on my plate. I felt kind of sorry for the fish. It looked deformed, sitting there missing its eyeball. Not that it knew or anything since it was pretty much dead already.

  The eyeball sat there staring up at me. I jiggled the plate a little, and it rolled around and around…

  “Mark has been to China on business. He knows what he’s talking about,” my mother said. Easy for her to say. She didn’t have a disembodied eyeball rolling around on her plate.

  “If you don’t want it...” Travis expertly plucked it up with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. “It’s not bad really.”

  I didn’t believe him, but that’s okay. He did it for me, to keep Mom and Mark from bugging me about eating the disgusting thing. He was my hero.

  Everyone was using chopsticks, even Mom. She was all flirty and giggly as Mark put his hand over hers trying to show her how to do it.

  “Try it, MacKenzie. It’s not that hard. Here, hold the bottom one just like you would a pencil...” Mark motioned across the table at me.

  If God had wanted me to use chopsticks, I wouldn’t have been born in New Jersey. I’d be weeding a bunch of rice paddies right now instead.

  “Here, I’ll show you.” Travis leaned toward me and took my hand in his. “Just relax your fingers…”

  How? How on earth was I going to relax when he was holding my hand like that? When his face was so close to mine I could see the small black flecks in his blue eyes? I was getting lightheaded. I was going to faint...

  But I didn’t. Instead I let Travis show me how to do it. My chopsticks kept getting tangled up with each other. At this rate I was going to starve. Not that I minded since I didn’t want any of the stuff Mark had ordered.

  “Aren’t we lucky to have Mark along? He knows how to order like a real Chinese person,” my mother cooed disgustingly.

  Right now what I really wanted was a pizza. Or a hamburger or something normal like that.

  Mark spooned some of this stuff onto my plate. It looked like meat with some orange glop on top. My mother was staring at me like she thought if I didn’t eat something, the wedding would be called off and everything would be ruined.

  The rice looked okay so I figured I’d have a little bite of that, but the grains kept slipping through my chop sticks. I gave up on the rice and went for this crunchy looking red thing that was mixed up in the meat. I just hoped it wasn’t a fried bug or anything like that. But I don’t think the Chinese eat bugs. It’s someplace in the Amazon or South America where they do that.

  Score! I finally had the thing, whatever it was, caught with my chopsticks. Now to get it to my mouth without dropping it...I did it!

  I took a bite, and it was like someone had lit a match inside my mouth. I spit it out, and it landed right on Mark’s tie. I didn’t care. I was too busy pantomiming WATER to anyone who might be able to help. Finally Travis handed me his glass, and I felt like Helen Keller in that movie where she finally gets them to understand what she wants.

  Unfortunately the water didn’t
help. What on earth was that red thing I ate? A nuclear weapon or something? No wonder those Chinese people are so tough.

  My mother looked kind of alarmed, but Mark was laughing. “MacKenzie, you’re not supposed to eat those. They’re very hot peppers.”

  No kidding, Mark. How was I supposed to know? Like you couldn’t have told me before? And anyway, it was the only thing I could pick up with these medieval chopsticks you insisted I try.

  This whole day was not going as planned. Here I’m having dinner with the hottest guy in school, and a) I’m dressed in a hideous outfit that makes me look like a refugee from some convent school, b) I spit food at his father’s tie, c) I nearly set myself on fire eating something I wasn’t supposed to eat, but how did I know that? and d) I’m starving, but I can’t pick up anything with these stupid wooden sticks the Chinese insist on using.

  I made my mother stop at the pizza parlor on the way home so I could get something to eat. She didn’t complain, but I think she was too busy thinking about Mark to mind. She didn’t even say anything when I asked her to go in and get the slices for me. There were a couple of kids from school lounging around the front door, and I wasn’t about to be seen in my hideous torso-less-wonder outfit. I’d never live it down.

  Mr. Lasick assigned this utterly bogus paper on Friday afternoon all because a couple of the kids in our class were acting up. Is that fair? I was just sitting there minding my own business, and now I’m stuck writing one thousand words on the War of 1812.

  I’d almost forgotten about it until Emily called. I slept in really late Sunday morning. There didn’t seem to be any good reason to get up. Travis was going to be my stepbrother. I still didn’t have a date for the Snow Ball, and I was going to lose my hundred dollars to Amber. Which meant I was going to miss Life Cycle when they played here.