Oh, Brother!

by Cochran, Peg

  Emily seemed to be very interested in her sandwich. As if she’d never seen ham and cheese on rye before. She looked up at me suddenly. “Celia got into that program at Julliard, you know.”

  She said it like I should have known. Like it was on the eleven o’clock news and HBO and in the National Enquirer or something.

  “That’s really cool, Celia.” I started to put my tray down.

  Emily stared at me. “What makes you think you can just come back to us like nothing’s happened?”

  “Yeah.” Celia put her fork down and looked up at me. “Why don’t you go sit with your new friends? Huh?” She had a blob of mustard on her shirt. Honestly, I don’t know why I wanted to sit with them in the first place.

  “Well, fine.” I picked up my tray and walked away.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I no longer had any friends. I was like an outcast or something who nobody wanted. I would have to become a nun or maybe a hermit. And live alone in my room until my hair grew down to my knees and I became so pale people thought I was an albino.

  Sometimes life really sucks.

  Chapter 18

  Dear Lucy Love,

  My love life is such a mess. What should I do?

  Sincerely,

  Confused

  Dear Confused,

  How should I know? Ask someone else. I quit.

  Yours,

  Lucy Love

  I went to talk to Mr. Lasick today to tell him I wasn’t going to be doing the Lucy Love column anymore. I am obviously completely hopeless as far as romance and boys are concerned.

  Mr. Lasick scratched his watermelon shaped head. The hair on top is very wispy looking—like duck feathers or something. His eyes were sad.

  “But you’re getting fan mail.” He blinked at me.

  “Fan mail?”

  He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder with a bunch of letters in it.

  I’m famous. Except no one knows it’s me.

  Math class would have been unbelievably boring if Jesse Hogg hadn’t gotten a nosebleed. Mr. Simmons had a complete spazz attack and couldn’t think of what to do. Finally Lindsay Foxgrove handed Jesse some tissues and told him to put his head back.

  Meanwhile Mr. Simmons had alerted the nurse that they were coming. As if it were something serious like a heart attack or a broken leg or acid reflux disease. Whatever that is, I don’t know, but it sounds serious.

  While Mr. Simmons was out of the classroom the boys started fooling around. Larry Denney took two pieces of chalk, stuffed them in his nose and pretended like he was a walrus. It was so funny, we almost died laughing.

  Grace Prendergast tried to get everyone to be quiet. I don’t know who put her in charge. But she always does stuff like that. Maybe she is practicing for a career as a prison matron or something. She told on Bob Waldorf the time she saw him looking at Glen Maxwell’s paper during a test, and yesterday she reminded Mr. Simmons that he had forgotten to collect our homework. Nobody likes her, but I think she is too dumb to notice.

  Emily and Celia are still pretending to ignore me. It’s unbelievable how long some people can hold a grudge. Now I can understand why they had that Hundred Years War Mr. Lasick told us about, what with people holding one little thing against you for a gazillion years.

  Miss Terhune made Emily captain in gym class, and she didn’t even pick me to be on her team. And we swore an oath that we would always pick each other so that we wouldn’t end up being last like Melissa Oberlin whose left foot turns in which means she can’t run very fast. Plus she always cries when she gets hit with the ball which is very irritating.

  I spent most of French class staring at Alex. Well, his back anyway since I was several seats behind him. He turned around once, and my heart started doing that funny thumping thing which is weird. It has never done that around Alex before.

  In the end I missed hearing the homework assignment, and I didn’t want to ask Mme. Pacquin for it again since she would go all ballistic about how I never pay attention in class anymore.

  I figured I would ask Alex. It was the perfect excuse to talk to him. If I could even hear over the annoying thumping noise my heart was making. Unfortunately he ducked out of class before I could get my things together. Then I dropped my notebook, and it sprang open, spilling my papers everywhere. I do not understand the manufacturers of notebooks. Half the time you can’t get the rings to open no matter how hard you pull, but just drop the thing and it pops open with no problem. Maybe we are meant to open our notebooks by flinging them on the floor. Although I can’t even begin to imagine what the teachers would say about that.

  I rushed out into the hallway and thought I noticed Alex’s head in the crowd. I pushed my way through, but when I got there it wasn’t him. I was really disappointed.

  I looked at my watch. I had just enough time to get to my locker before my next class.

  There were a whole bunch of people gathered around my locker when I got there which was weird. Several people looked at me kind of strangely as I approached, and a couple of the guys began to laugh.

  They parted and let me through. I was reaching toward my lock when I saw it.

  Taped to the front door of my locker.

  The picture Amber had taken of me at her party—with Mathew Tacy’s hand stuck down the cleavage of my dress.

  Amber slithered through the crowd. She put out a hand and gripped my shoulder. “I warned you, Mac. You tell anyone else about what happened, and these pictures will be all over the school.”

  She turned around and stalked off with Tory and Laurel right behind her.

  A couple of guys laughed and then began pushing each other.

  “Hey babe, want to go out on Saturday night?” Someone in the crowd yelled.

  “Nah, she’s already got a date with me,” another guy said, and everybody laughed.

  “What’s going on here?” Travis pushed his way through. Alex was right behind him. Alex reached out and ripped the photo off my locker.

  “Hey, get in line.” Some guy said. “I’m next.” He leered at me. “Right, sweetheart?”

  It was really incredible. Travis flew through the air and smacked the guy right on the jaw. We could all hear this terrible cracking sound.

  He pulled back his fist. “That’s my sister, you’re talking about, you jerk,” and he hit the guy again.

  The bad news is that Travis is suspended for fighting. The Veep wouldn’t even listen to an explanation. “No excuses,” he kept muttering, “no excuses. Fighting is unacceptable.”

  The good news is that Travis and Kristen are back together, and Travis looks much happier.

  Except that he is grounded too. And his band will miss the Tournament of Bands next weekend if I don’t do something.

  My mother and Mark were in the living room. I could hear the low murmur of the television and the sound of newspaper pages being turned. It’s the same every night except Saturdays when they sometimes go to a movie or rent a video. If watching TV and reading the paper are all you get to do when you’re an adult, I am going to die of boredom before I make it to forty. What’s the point of being old enough to stay out late and go to parties, if all you ever do is sit around the house?

  I know what I have to do, but it feels like I am going to my own funeral. I can just imagine everyone staring into the coffin, hands folded in prayer, handkerchiefs fluttering. Except there is no one left who cares about me. Not a single person will miss me. Not Celia or Emily or Travis. Certainly not Amber. And worst of all, definitely not Alex.

  Because I am pretty sure I am going to be grounded for at least an eternity if not longer when I tell Mom and Mark what really happened.

  “You let that boy do what?” My mother kept saying.

  “Now, Susan, calm down.” Mark carefully folded up his paper and put it to one side. “It sounds like the boy is at fault here, not MacKenzie.”

  “Still,” my mother fumed. “How could you let that happen, Mac? I thought this wa
s going to be a nice party with music and games and...and...things like that.” She was wringing her hands so much, I thought they might come unscrewed or something. “I blame myself. I should have talked to the mother beforehand.”

  I have had enough experience with my mother to know that her saying “I blame myself” didn’t mean she wasn’t going to blame me, too.

  I was right. I’m grounded for a week. The good news is that Travis is now off the hook.

  Of course my mother will never, ever let me go to another party. I’ve spent almost all my money on those flowers and can’t go to hear Life Cycle. Emily and Celia aren’t talking to me. I don’t have a date for the Snow Ball, and I will owe Amber money I don’t have.

  And they say these are the best years of your life.

  Chapter 19

  Dear Lucy Love,

  My best friend has all these really annoying habits, and they’re driving me crazy. What should I do?

  Sincerely,

  Bothered

  Dear Bothered,

  Not everyone can be as perfect as we are. Live with it.

  Yours,

  Lucy Love

  Being grounded is really boring. Probably the most boring thing on earth. Of course in my case I would just be sitting around anyway. Because I have no friends. And you can’t do stuff all by yourself like go to the mall or anything. It’s geeky. I’d look like Grace Prendergast or something.

  I was in my room painting black stripes down the center of my fingernails when Travis tapped on the door. He does not seem to be as mad at me anymore, I guess because he and Kristen are back together, and everything has turned out okay. Except for me, of course, since I am grounded and basically friendless.

  Travis stuck his head around the edge of the door. “I’m working on a new song. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Sure.”

  Travis had his guitar slung around his neck in that way that used to make my knees go all weak and jelloid. He is still incredibly cute and sexy, but my heart has stopped doing that annoying thumping business when I am around him. It has probably worn itself out or something.

  We went down to the basement where Travis has set up all his amps and stuff. He isn’t allowed to turn them on when my mother and Mark are home, of course.

  He had his back to me and was fiddling with some knobs. “Thanks for getting me off the hook with Dad. Now Travesty can play in the battle of the bands next weekend. Maybe you can come hear us play?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll still be grounded.”

  “And thanks for sending Kristen those flowers.” He turned around with a big grin. “She was really impressed.”

  “I had to do something since it was my fault you broke up. I’m really sorry I sent that email.”

  Travis strummed a few chords on his guitar. “Well from what you told Dad and your mom, I can kind of understand why you did it.” He fiddled with another knob. “That Amber is a total witch.”

  I thought for a minute. “Hey, how did you know I sent the flowers?”

  “Well, it wasn’t me. But someone signed my name on the card so it couldn’t have been a secret admirer or anything.” He strummed some more, and the chords echoed around the room. “They must have cost a fortune.”

  “They did. It was almost all the money I had. Which means I can’t pay Amber now.”

  He stopped strumming. “Why do you have to pay Amber?”

  I hadn’t meant to say that. How could I tell Travis about that stupid bet? He’d think I was nuts. Unfortunately I couldn’t come up with a good story on the spur of the moment so I was forced to tell him the truth. Or maybe it was just that my mother had put truth serum in our dinner again.

  “So you bet Amber you could get a boyfriend?”

  I nodded.

  “Was it Alex?”

  I shook my head. I could feel my face getting red.

  “Come on. Tell me.” Travis started to tickle me. “It was Alex, wasn’t it?”

  “No,” I said, my voice going all high and squeaky because Travis was still tickling me.

  My face was beet red, I could tell.

  Suddenly Travis stopped. “Was it me? It was me, wasn’t it?”

  I nodded mutely. Kind of like I used to back when I would hang around Travis’ classroom. That seemed like a million years ago now.

  “Wow, that’s really cool. You actually liked me.”

  He smiled. “I wish I had known you liked me...before.”

  I hardly heard the song he played. I was thinking about the fact that he liked that I liked him. And how that is really nice, but it doesn’t matter that much to me now.

  Now I want him to like me as a person. Or maybe even as a sister. How weird is that?

  This morning is the talent show. Everyone is very excited because even watching Grace Prendergast tap dance is better than having our regular old boring classes.

  I saw Emily in the hall, and she looked nervous. She is still ignoring me and so is Celia.

  Travis opened the show with his band. They did the song he played for me the other day. How cool is that! The audience went wild, and Mr. Geldorf had to get on the microphone and tell everyone to get back in their seats. Unfortunately the microphone made that terrible screeching sound, and we couldn’t understand a word he said.

  One of the kids in my class did a magician’s act that was pretty good, then there was this senior on the piano who played without any music at all and didn’t even wait for the applause.

  Finally it was Emily’s turn. I was nervous for her She might look really geeky out there, or she might look cool. You could never tell.

  The music started up and the curtain opened. Emily was in the middle of the stage with the spotlight shining down on her. She wasn’t wearing an Irish costume, thank goodness, but rather fishnet tights, a leotard and a longish, fitted black jacket. She actually looked pretty cool—like one of those Vegas show dancers or something except not topless or anything. Well, Mr. Geldorf would never have allowed that seeing as how he gets all upset if he thinks our top is too short.

  The music started up, but she just stood there. Someone started the CD over again, but Emily still just stood there without moving.

  People were beginning to squirm around in their seats, and someone in the back row laughed. I turned around, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Did they know how much guts it took for Emily to stand up there in the first place?

  More people were laughing now. I had to do something. Quick.

  I slipped out of my seat and headed down the aisle, trying to keep low and out of the teachers’ radar. There is always some total busybody who has nothing better to do than keep track of the students.

  My heart was pounding way harder than it ever had before, even when we have to run in gym class, and I was almost hoping to have a heart attack so I would be saved from what I knew I had to do.

  I slid past Miss Patrice who was standing by the stage with one hand on the curtain.

  And I walked out on stage.

  My mother tried to get me over my stage fright, back when she wanted me to play the clarinet in the orchestra, by telling me to imagine the audience in their underwear. No, thank you. I have absolutely no desire to see Mr. Geldorf in his briefs or Miss Terhune in any kind of lingerie. Fortunately the lights were blinding which meant I couldn’t see much of anything beyond the first row.

  I went over and stood next to Emily and started to do a couple of the steps she’d shown me. I saw Mr. Belagio shrug and start up the music again.

  This time Emily began to dance. I did a couple of shuffling steps and disappeared off the side of the stage. My underarms were all wet, and I could feel the sweat trickling down my sides. And my heart was just about going crazy. But I hadn’t fainted. It was a miracle

  I got back to my seat in time to see Emily do a whole bunch of incredible spins which brought the audience to their feet.

  I clapped as hard as anyone. Mr. O’Neil even shouted “bravo” a couple of times which wa
s pretty weird since he’s usually so quiet. I guess it was because it was Irish and all.

  Afterwards I went to find Emily, but there was a whole crowd gathered around her so I just left.

  “I haven’t seen Celia or Emily around in awhile,” my mother said as she backed out the driveway.

  We were on our way to the mall. My mother decided I needed a new dress for Aunt Janice’s baby shower. I can’t believe she’s having a baby at her age. She is practically as old as my mother. It almost makes me feel sorry for my cousin Amanda. She must be mortified.

  Fortunately I managed to persuade my mother to drop me at the mall with her credit card. I hate when we have to go together. She actually expects to go into the dressing room with me if you can believe it. Honestly, I have no privacy.

  “Have you three had a fight?” My mother looked at me.

  I wish she would keep her eyes on the road. We have already been honked at twice.

  I sank a little lower in my seat. “You mean me and Emily and Celia?” I wasn’t about to tell her about it. She’d give me that old speech about turning the other cheek and the golden rule and all that stuff. “Celia’s been busy with violin practice, and Emily has become obsessed with Irish step dancing.”

  My mother pulled into the mall parking lot. “Maybe you should try Irish step dancing. You and Emily could go together. It would be a nice hobby for you.”

  I made a grunting sort of noise—the kind that can mean yes or no depending on what you’re hoping to hear. Fortunately, my mother will probably forget all about Irish step dancing by the time she gets home. Which is a good thing because I think I would rather learn to play the accordion than go dancing with Emily.

  Of course the minute I set foot in the mall I spotted Celia and Emily. They were walking around looking in all the windows. Next, I knew, they would go to the food court for some fries and a cookie. I got this heavy feeling in my chest, and my eyes felt all prickly, as if I might cry. I really missed them. Even with Celia’s constant eating and Emily’s stupid dancing.