“I was wondering if we could talk?”
Oh, here it comes. She knows about Daniel. And she knows I know. “Umm . . . sure. Do you want to come in?”
Sienna grimaces slightly, obviously remembering my dad’s fortieth. “Not really.”
Suddenly, my mom appears behind me. “Who’s at the door, Lou—?” She stops when she sees the daughter of her nemesis. “Oh . . . hello, Sienna.”
“Hi, Ms. Burroughs,” she says, and I notice that she no longer feels comfortable calling her Denise.
“Sienna wants to talk to me,” I say, turning to my mom with a desperate look.
“Okay, well, you’re always welcome in our home, Sienna.”
“Thanks, but . . . ” She looks at me. “I thought maybe we could talk outside—or go for a walk or something?”
“Sure,” I mumble, though my throat is closing with dread.
Outside, the September sky is still light. I’m thankful for this, as it makes it less likely that the evil triplets will be lurking in the shadows, waiting to jump me. I expect they’ll prefer to torture me verbally, but I still can’t rule out a physical attack. Silently, I follow Sienna down the front steps and to the end of our driveway. There, she stops and turns to face me. “This won’t take long,” she begins. “I just wanted to say that I know you heard me talking today.”
“Uh . . . ?” I decide it may be safest to play dumb.
“About the wedding and moving to New York with Daniel.”
“Oh, right.”
She pauses. “Well, I noticed that you looked like you were going to cry, and I realized that this must be really hard for you.” My face must register my confusion as she elaborates. “I mean, you and I used to have big plans—Sienna Lou, design school and art school . . . ”
I nod.
“I just hope that you’ll still follow your dreams. Just because I’ll be going to New York with Daniel instead of you, it doesn’t mean that you can’t still go. I think you should still apply to SVA. You’re a really good artist. You’ll totally get in.”
“Thanks,” I say, relief flooding over me. “I plan to. I’m moving there with my friend Russell.”
“Good.”
We stand silently for a moment, eyes on the ground in front of us. I’m just noticing that Sienna really does have fabulous taste in footwear when she says, “I know a lot of shit’s gone down between us, but . . . I still think you deserve to be happy. You’re a good person, Louise.”
“Daniel’s gay.”
Sienna gapes at me and I swear the shock on her face is mirrored on my own. What the heck just happened? How could I just blurt something like that out? Have I got Tourette syndrome now? Wouldn’t that just make my life even better!
Sienna gives an incredulous laugh. “What did you say?”
“Uh . . . nothing,” I try.
“You did so,” she snaps angrily. “What did you say?”
I know I’m defeated. I’ll have to tell her everything, every sad, sordid detail about her boyfriend’s betrayal. And I will do this with absolutely no regard for my own well-being. I guess Sienna and my mom are right: I am a good person . . . dammit!
“He’s gay, Sienna,” I say softly. “I saw him with Russell. They’re seeing each other.”
Her features turn hard. “I came here to try to be nice to you and this is how you thank me? You’re sick, you know that?”
“I don’t expect you to believe me. I know you’ll go tell Daniel and he’ll deny it. And I know you’ll tell Audrey and everyone to be extra mean to me so that twelfth grade will be even worse than eleventh, but . . . you deserve to know. I hope . . . ” I pause here, unsure what to say next. “I hope you’ll at least look into it.”
Sienna turns away from me and appears about to stalk off. But after a few seconds, she turns to face me again. “Is Russell the guy who works at Orange Julius with you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re sure he’s gay?”
“Trust me, I’m sure.”
She bites her lip. “Daniel said they were friends from football camp.”
I must not laugh. “Russell doesn’t play football.” As I watch Sienna process this information, I add, “I know you’re not having sex with him.”
She looks up. “Yeah, because I want to wait. Daniel’s dying to do it with me.”
“No, he’s not,” I say, feeling the sting of my words. “I’m sure the entire male population of Red Cedars is, but Daniel’s not. He told me.”
She snorts cruelly. “He told you? When have you even spoken to him?”
I tell her about our parking lot encounter, and how Daniel convinced me to keep his secret. “Look,” I say gently, “you’re not the first girl to fall for a gay guy.” This was intended to be a sort of bonding moment, but Sienna shoots me a withering look. Obviously, my short crush on Russell does not compare to her much celebrated pre-engagement to Daniel.
Sienna is quiet for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning. So I decide to continue. “I found them at this lookout off of Highway 1A. I don’t know where else they meet, but Daniel picks him up after work sometimes. You could always stake out the Willowbrook Mall parking lot . . . You know, if you want some proof.”
“I don’t need proof!” she snaps. “You’re still bitter and angry because I dropped you as a friend, and now you’re trying to ruin my happiness. You’re pathetic, do you know that?”
“No, I’m not!” I reply, frustration overwhelming me. “I didn’t want to get involved in this. Trust me, I didn’t. But when I heard he gave you a promise ring, and that he’s going to be in New York this summer . . . ” I trail off. When I speak again, my voice is calmer, softer. “It was really nice of you to come here and see if I was okay, and when you said I was a good person . . . well, it was like I couldn’t help but do the right thing. I just . . . had to tell you. I’m sorry.”
Sienna’s features are angry, but I notice a tear trickling slowly down the side of her nose. She looks about to say something, undoubtedly something like Prepare to be destroyed. Then she turns and walks away. I stand in the driveway and watch her get into her Toyota Rav 4 (another gift from her guilt-addled mother), which is parked at the curb. Without a backward glance, she speeds away.
When I walk back inside, my mom is hovering near the door. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say blandly. “I need to borrow your car.”
“What for?” My mom asks, her voice filled with concern.
“I just need to talk to Russell.” I look her directly in the eye. “I’ll tell you everything later, but you don’t need to worry.”
To my surprise, this seems to work. Without another word, she moves to retrieve her keys from her purse.
When I arrive at Willowbrook Mall, I march directly to the Orange Julius stand. There’s no point postponing the inevitable. I am about to lose my best friend and my job in one fell swoop. Obviously, once Jackie sees me in the mall when I’m supposedly sick, she’ll have me fired. But what is unemployment compared to losing your best friend and being completely ostracized at school? At least I got my highlights done before the firing—not that they had the life-changing impact I had predicted.
But when I approach, Russell is alone, eating a hot dog.
“Oh my god!” he says. “I thought you were sick!”
“I am . . . sort of. Where’s Jackie?”
“I told her to take a break. It’s still slow, and I couldn’t stand listening to her moan about being called in on her night off. You might want to get out of here before she gets back.”
“Right.” Going to the side of the booth, I enter through the swinging doorway. “But I need to talk to you first.”
Russell looks at me, his expression concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“No.”
“Oh god!” he says, placing the hot dog on the counter and clasping his hands at his chest. Sure, now he seems effeminate.
“I told S
ienna.”
He hesitates. “About what?”
“About you and Daniel. He gave her a promise ring and they’re moving to New York. I had to say something.”
Slowly, Russell picks up his hot dog and tosses it in the trash. With his back to me, he looks out across the sparsely populated food court. I can’t see the expression on his face, but I’m sure it is one of betrayal, anger, even rage. “I’m sorry,” I manage to say.
Russell doesn’t respond, but I see his shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. Finally, he turns to face me. “You said you’d stay out of it.”
“I tried! But Sienna came to my house and she was being really nice to me and it just came out! It was like I couldn’t control myself!”
“Yeah, that seems to be a problem with you.”
Suddenly, I’m defensive. “It was the right thing to do,” I say. “I couldn’t stand by and watch him use her . . . and use you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Russell shoots back. “I don’t need you taking care of me!”
I back down in the face of his anger. “I know. I screwed up. I totally understand if you hate me now.”
Russell looks at me for a long moment. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
“Really?” I cry. “Never?”
“Well . . . don’t test me.”
“I won’t,” I assure him, reaching for his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I knew it couldn’t go on forever. I’m just really worried.”
“About Daniel?”
“Yeah, about Daniel. He has so much pressure on him. I don’t know how he’s going to deal with this.”
“What do you mean?” Worry brings a wobble to my voice. What will I do if Daniel goes berserk and ends up hurting himself? Or Sienna? Or his controlling parents? God, I hadn’t even factored in that possibility. Like I’m not enough of a social leper without being the girl who outed Daniel Noran and provoked his murderous rampage!
“I don’t know what he’ll do, but I don’t think he’s ready to be gay.”
“Maybe he could just be bi?” I say hopefully.
Russell snorts. “Yeah, that would solve everything.” Suddenly he gives me a shove toward the exit. “Here comes Jackie. You’d better get out of here.”
As I scurry away, I call over my shoulder. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Of course. Now go!” He shoos me away from the booth.
35
Neither Sienna nor Daniel is at school the next day. I try not to obsess about their absence over the weekend, but I can’t help but worry. Thankfully, the evening news doesn’t mention any murder-suicides. At school on Monday, I see Sienna in English Lit. She looks remarkably calm. Of course, she’s not squealing and laughing her head off as usual, but she doesn’t really look that upset. Despite the fact that she’s not wearing her promise ring, my former BFF seems almost serene.
But Daniel Noran doesn’t return to school all week. I’m dying to know what happened to him. Asking Sienna is out of the question. Despite our recent shows of affection, telling someone that their boyfriend is secretly gay does not bring you closer together. Finally, over after-work nachos with Russell, I learn the whole story.
“I saw Daniel last night,” he says casually, focusing on the heaping plate of chips before us.
“You did? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He said it went okay with Sienna. She was upset, but really nice about it, actually.”
“That’s good. What about his parents?”
“They still don’t know. Sienna’s not going to tell anyone. It’s not exactly flattering for either of them.”
“I guess not. But if everything’s okay, why hasn’t he been at school?”
“His dad had been pressuring him to go to this fancy, all-boys boarding school in Montreal. He’s decided to spend twelfth grade there.”
“Really?”
Russell laughs. “Daniel seems to think if he’s away from me, he’ll miraculously become straight again.”
“At an all-boys boarding school?”
“I know! If anything, it’s going to make him gayer!”
I place my hand on top of his. “Are you going to miss him?”
“Yeah,” he says sadly, “it was fun while it lasted, but I knew it would end at some point.”
I hate to make this all about me, but I have to ask. “And you don’t blame me?”
Russell gives me an exasperated look. “No, I don’t blame you. Besides, we’ve got to focus on our plans. I’ve got to get a demo CD together and contact some clubs, and you’ve got to get your applications in.”
“I know,” I say thankfully. “We’ve got to look forward, not back!”
Russell holds up his glass of Diet Coke. “To looking forward!” he says jubilantly. “To the future!”
“To the future!” I say, clinking my glass to his.
And that is how I’ll get through my last year of school: by looking to the future. Not that twelfth grade could possibly be as painful and humiliating as eleventh. I feel fairly confident that my parents have caused me enough embarrassment for one lifetime. I mean, what are the odds that my dad and, say, Leah Montgomery’s mom are going to get it on in front of my brother? Slim to none, I’d say—especially given that Leah’s mom appears to be in her mid-fifties and has a rather thick moustache. And I doubt my mom will leave Dave to get knocked up by any of my other teachers. So, if I focus on our move to New York, I just might survive senior year.
Since Sienna and I have reached a sort of silent truce and the evil triplets are no longer torturing me, there’s even a chance I might enjoy my final months at Red Cedars. Mr. Sumner is going to announce this year’s theater production soon, and I’m very excited about it. I’m becoming increasingly interested in a career in the theater—or maybe even film. Now that I’m no longer on the periphery of the popular crowd, I don’t have to pretend to be cool and blasé about my interests. I’m free from the constraints that once bound me! Free to have passions outside of boys, belts, and earrings. Of course, I would really like to get my hair highlighted again.
As I enter the lobby on Monday, I notice Sienna and her crowd occupying their usual spot near the stairs. Daniel is absent, of course, but there are a number of interchangeable, good-looking guys milling about. Out of habit, I turn my face away and quicken my pace before remembering that I no longer have anything to fear from them. Consciously, I relax my gait.
“Louise!” I hear my name and turn toward the source. Sienna stands up and comes toward me. For the briefest moment, I’m filled with dread, but the small smile on her face assures me everything is okay.
“Hey,” I say as she approaches.
“Hey.” With a small movement of her head, she indicates that we should continue walking to my locker. “So . . . ” she says as we move through the foyer, “Daniel’s going to Selwyn House in Montreal.”
“I heard.” I look at her. “Russell saw him before he left.”
Sienna bites her lip and nods her head. “I know.” She stops walking. “I didn’t want to believe you, but I know you don’t lie. And when I thought about it, it did explain a lot of things.”
Of course I’m dying to know what things, but she is not forthcoming. As we begin to walk again, Sienna says, “So . . . I’ve been watching Project Runway, and it seems you have to be able to draw to go to fashion design school. I was wondering if you could give me some tips one day after school.” She gives me a hopeful smile.
“Sure.” I smile back. “But we’ll meet on neutral territory, right?”
Sienna laughs. “Definitely! I was thinking Starbucks.”
“Sounds good.”
Sienna stops walking and faces me. She almost looks like she wants to hug me or something. That would be really corny, I guess, but I actually wouldn’t mind. But popular girls don’t make such cheesy gestures. Instead, Sienna says, “Thanks . . . I’ll catch up with you later.” Then she heads back to the in-cr
owd.
I continue on to my locker with a sense of contentment. Sienna and I will never have the friendship we once had, but I’m okay with that. In fact, I wouldn’t want to go back to the way things were. It’s a relief not to be a part of her clique, pretending to have common interests with her other friends. But maybe Sienna and I can have a different kind of friendship.
When I reach my locker, I open my combination lock and stuff my backpack inside. I’m hanging up my jacket when I become aware of someone beside me. Turning, I feel my breath catch in my throat. Aaron Hansen is back, and like some kind of miraculous gift from the heavens, he has grown at least four inches over the summer! God, he’s really filled out too. He must have gained about twenty pounds!
“Hi, Louise,” he says with that same lazy smile that, now that he’s about five-eleven, could probably qualify as sexy!
“A—Aaron,” I stammer, “you’re back.”
“Yeah,” he closes his locker. “How was your summer?”
“Uh, it was fine . . . good.” I close my locker too. “How was Chicago?”
“It was fantastic!” he says, his eyes lighting up. “I learned so much, and it was great working with a professional theater troupe. I think I can bring a lot to this year’s production. You’re going to be our set designer again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I reply brightly, marveling at how broad his shoulders have become.
Aaron continues as we wander down the hall toward homeroom. “That’s great. Have you heard when Mr. Sumner’s going to announce what play we’re doing?”
Yes . . . I just might enjoy this year after all.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my editor, Pam Robertson, for her wisdom, support and guidance. Thank you to everyone at Annick Press for bringing this book into being. And thank you to John, Ethan and Tegan—for always being in my corner, and always making me laugh.
About the Author
Robyn Harding grew up in Quesnel, a logging town in northern British Columbia. She published her first adult novel, The Journal of Mortifying Moments, in 2004. Since then, she’s published three more novels: The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom, Unravelled, and Chronicles of a Midlife Crisis.
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