by Sarah Bumpus
I groan, mentally praying that Devon will be able to make the video go away, permanently. Farah goes on to tell me how after Bryce left, they announced the Harvest Couple, and of course it went to him and Missy. She was so pissed that he wasn’t there to dance with her that she threw the crown in a trashcan and took off, leaving a slow song playing for an empty dance floor. “I picked the crown out of the garbage if you want it as a souvenir,” Farah jokes.
Emotionally, I feel worse than I did yesterday. I forgot all about the stupid Harvest Couple. Bryce chose to drive me home, rather than stay and except his title.
“So, is there something you want to tell me?” Farah asks bluntly.
“What do you mean?”
“Um…hello, Bryce Colton? You have been spending a lot of time together lately and of all the guys you could have danced with, you go right for him?”
“What? How could you even think that? I’m only spending time with him so I can spend time with Carver. I was just trying to get him to notice I was there. I guess it worked, because he held my hair while I puked,” I whine into my cell.
She laughs and offers as much condolence to a girl who humiliated herself, as a best friend can. We start to finish up our conversation and I tell Farah that I’m sorry about leaving her at the dance. She says it’s no big deal, that she called Seth and begged him to come and keep her company. “He’s not very happy with you right now,” she adds.
Yeah, no one is. I mentally add Missy to that list, too.
“He’ll come around. He’s probably just jealous because you spend more time with Bryce, than him.”
I laugh and add, “What about you two? I forgot to tell you, the hand holding was kinda obvious the other day.”
“Oh…yeah,” she agrees. “He hasn’t told me, but I know he likes me. I’ve sensed it for a while. It’s just…” Farah pauses and breathes into the receiver. I feel my insides drop ever so slightly.
“You don’t like him like that,” I say flatly, finishing the sentence for her.
“No. I didn’t say that. I do like him. I’m just kind of seeing someone else.”
“What?” I exclaim. “Who?”
“It’s someone I met at a party with Charlotte. I just didn’t tell you because he’s…you know…older, a college student,” she throws in hastily.
That’s why she hadn’t been mentioning the weekend parties with her sister, so much for telling each other everything. “Farah, c’mon, I’m your best friend. Did you really think I’d care about you seeing an older guy?”
“I guess not,” she determines. “You just seemed really preoccupied with Carver, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“Oh, please,” I beg. “When can I meet him?”
Farah laughs and tells me soon, then blows it off by telling me a bit more about the dance. Ending the conversation, I’m informed that she and Seth (reluctantly) dropped my car off and the keys are under the front door mat.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I tell her, and we say goodbye. I’m now on a mission…to talk to Bryce.
Getting up as quickly as my head will allow, I run a bath with enough water to submerge my entire body, hoping to soak away feelings of guilt and regret. There’s no farewell kiss as I send them swirling down the drain once the stopper is pulled. I hastily get dressed then brush my teeth twice, ridding my mouth of last night’s amalgamation.
Thankfully my mom isn’t home when I go downstairs, nor is Devon around. I frown thinking about that YouTube clip, but don’t have time to dwell on it. I quickly drink a tall glass of water and fetch my keys from under the mat as I say a silent thank you to Farah and Seth.
Pulling up to the Colton’s house a little after one o’clock, I am greeted by the same beautifully landscaped yard and two story shingled bungalow that I remember as a child. The house has a screened in front porch, accessible by three wide steps which Mrs. Colton has decorated with cornstalks and various sized pumpkins for the fall holidays.
I remember one Halloween when we were six… it was the last one we spent together. Bryce and I were so excited to go trick-or-treating. He was Batman for like the third year in a row, and I was a mermaid with fangs because I also wanted to be a vampire, and stubbornly couldn’t make up my mind. The sky looked threatening all afternoon, but we stayed optimistic. Just after my dad dropped me off it started to down pour. We were devastated, but ended up sitting out on the porch, listening to the rain while Bryce’s dad told us spooky stories. His mom gave us each a flashlight and allowed us to eat all the candy that she had bought to give out, since there would most likely be no one trick-or-treating by boat that evening. It was probably the best Halloween I ever had.
As I climb the steps I hear a dog bark inside and I know it’s too late to turn back. I pull the screen door open and step onto the porch. Ringing the doorbell makes the dog bark even more. After a few moments, Mrs. Colton answers, smiling genuinely when she sees me. A feisty black and white dog tries to poke past her to say hello, but she restrains it. She comments on how much I’ve grown up and asks how I’ve been, the usual small talk to which I oblige in, before asking if Bryce is home. (Probably a silly question, since his Jeep is in the driveway.)
She invites me in the front hall and calls to Bryce. I can hear a football game on TV somewhere in the house and smell a hint of cinnamon in the air, the savory aroma of a seasonal meal cooking in the kitchen. I bend down and scratch the dog’s ears while I wait for Bryce. He emerges at the top of the stairs, in sweats and a nothing else. I get a flash of toned stomach as he pulls on a t-shirt and makes his way down the stairs. If he’s surprised to see me, he shows no sign of it, and greets me with a generic hello. The terrier gets excited thinking it’s going outside and Bryce tells it to get back. Apparently it’s a boy and named Unitas.
“After the quarterback, Johnny Unitas,” Bryce says. “He’s why I wear the number ninteen.”
“Oh,” There’s a brief pause in our conversation, if you can even call it that. “Look, can I talk to you for a minute, in private?” I ask.
“Sure.” Bryce grabs a jacket off a nearby peg rack and shrugs it on. We step out onto the porch with Unitas in foot. Not satisfied within its confines, he waits impatiently for the screen door to be unlatched. Bryce lets him out, and the dog makes his way to the large area which makes up the side yard. We both follow suit.
“I thought your parents didn’t like dogs? When did you get him?” I ask, watching Unitas search for a good throwing stick.
Bryce takes a moment to think, “About five or six years ago. I guess they felt bad about me being an only child. They finally gave in and let me get one.” He bends down to pick up a stick the dog has delivered at his feet and effortlessly throws it across the yard. Unitas gallops after it, sending brittle leaves flying about in his wake. I shove my hands in my coat pocket as we gravitate over to the area where Mrs. Colton’s rosebushes bloom, though they’re currently brambly and bare in a derelict state.
“Listen,” I start, determined to say what I came here to say. “I owe you an apology. Not just for yesterday, but for the way I treated you the past two months. I said a lot of rude things. I guess because I’ve been mad at you for so long, I was quick to judge you and I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Bryce tries to say something, but I interrupt him. “You don’t have to justify my behavior to make it alright. Please just accept my apology and we’ll call it even.”
He runs both his hands through his hair in aggravation, but gives up. “God, you are so stubborn, Joy. OK, fine. I accept your apology.”
“Good.” I cross my arms in satisfaction.
Bryce chucks the stick towards the woods again, then turns to me. “So, what was the deal with Halsey last night, anyway? He shakes his head. “That asshole will take advantage of anything with…female parts.”
Feeling offended by his remark I ask, “What does that mean? That he couldn’t actually be interested in me and not just what’s between my legs?”
Bryce’s face falls. “No, I didn’t mean that…Wait. Tell me you’re not seeing him.”
“What the hell, Bryce? It’s not any of your business if I am!”
He looks as angry as I feel, and takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Joy, you need to be careful. You don’t know what he’s really like-”
“I know he’s not like you!” I exclaim, and know it’s a cheap shot, but I’m so angry by now, I don’t even care.
Bryce shakes his head in disgust and looks me straight in the eye. “Maybe you were right about being quick to judge, because personally I thought you were better than that, Joy.” Then he adds, “I don’t think I’ll need you as a tutor anymore.”
Bryce whistles to Unitas, who instantly comes running. He turns and they walk back towards the house together leaving me in the yard like the chewed up throwing stick left at my feet.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Monday morning after my little homecoming dance fiasco, I arrive to school early in hopes to avoid as much of the student body as possible. I feel as if I’ve done something wrong, and I’m sneaking around behind everyone’s back. As I approach my locker, someone is there waiting for me. It’s Missy, there to remind me that I did in fact, do something wrong. I had a feeling some sort of confrontation with her was coming, and I might as well get it over with first thing. I sigh, “Missy.”
“Joy,” she snaps. As I come within a few feet of her she gets up close to my face. “I know all about your little secret,” she smirks. “I’m not stupid. I recognized you in that picture.”
“What are you talking about?” I look around and notice a few students have started to trickle in and taken an interest in our little scene.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re not an idiot…that freaking picture of you and Bryce!”
That stupid old picture posted on Bryce’s Facebook page? “Missy…”
“You think you can magically steal him away, because you were friends when you were babies? We have real history, if you know what I mean. Do you really think he’d be interested in someone like you?”
Her words sting, but I recover quickly knowing she’s got it wrong. I get right up in her face. “Someone like me? You know what, Missy? You are so full of shit.” My tightly clenched fists do nothing to prevent my body from shaking, as the sudden overdose of adrenaline pumps through my system.
“Am I?” she laughs. “I’m not the one sitting alone at games, or getting wasted and throwing myself at him in front of the whole school. So pathetic! He’s too good for you…too special. Why do you think he ditched you in the first place?”
“You don’t know anything about me! Get out of face!” I shove past Missy, bumping her with my shoulder, which gets an arousal out of the small crowd that has now formed.
Blinking back the sting of tears, I escape to the bathroom. I lock myself in a stall and lean against the door as if trying to reinforce the already secured lock. Why would Bryce even be interested in her? Are they really that much a like? I’ve heard so many rumors about him over the years, about how conceited he is, or that he’s a testosterone fueled jerk. After spending so much time alone with him, I was really starting to think he wasn’t any of those things, that he was still the same boy I once knew. Yet, the type of people he calls friends are the same ones that call Farah names when she walks down the hall, and shove Seth around for kicks. Was everything just an act when we were together, so he could use me to keep his precious scholarship? Does he call up Missy when he leaves my house, so they can laugh about how pathetic they both think I am?
As much as I want to stay and make this depressing pink bathroom my home, I collect myself and walk to homeroom. I glance to the back where Bryce always sits. He’s already there, and when I meet his eyes, he quickly looks away. Nick Burton, one of the guys that Bryce is sitting with makes a joke about my amazing dance moves, more than loud enough for me to hear. Feeling humiliated, I look straight ahead and can’t tell if Bryce responds or not.
Somehow I make it through the first half of the day, rather robotically, focusing on schoolwork. Seth won’t even look at me, and I still haven’t seen Carver, though I don’t have to wait too long. The bell rings after what feels like the quickest math class I have ever experienced and Carver is waiting for me when I exit the room. He watches a few students walk past then falls into step with me, sliding his arm through mine. “Well apparently you made it home alright.”
“I did.”
“And, that thing with you humping Colton?” He raises his eyebrows, nonplussed.
“I was just trying to get your attention.” I admit, like a child taking a scolding.
Caver sighs and stops abruptly, causing a freshman boy to almost slam into his back, but he doesn’t even notice. “Joy, you had my attention from the moment you stepped into that gym. You looked amazing by the way…well, until you started puking.” He turns to me and adds, “I’m not happy about Colton driving you home, though.”
“It’s OK,” I sigh. “It was fine. He doesn’t drink.”
Carver smirks. “Is that what he told you?” He starts to laugh, and suddenly I’m confused. “Man, that guy is so full of it. Did he somehow forget to mention that party where he got totally wasted?”
The shocked look on my face must be enough to answer his question, because he continues on. “Oh, believe me, it’s true. I was there. Colton was doing keg stands like the best of them, with the entire football team. He was so drunk, he started shouting to the heavens that he was in love with you!”
I feel my stomach tighten up into a knot the size of a melon and the familiar hot tears of humiliation start to make their return, burning my eyes. Carver reaches up and wipes one away. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s OK. I didn’t want to tell you that, but I just want you to know what he’s really like.”
“I know what he’s like,” I say angrily, thinking about my run in with Missy. “And you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to be tutoring him anymore.”
“Glad to hear it. Now I have you all to myself.” Carver puts his arm around me as the bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class.”
Feeling comforted by Carver’s words, I finally get the nerve to ask the question that’s been bothering me. “So, why didn’t you just ask me to the dance, if you wanted me to go?”
“I‘m sorry,” he says, and offers a shy smile. “I didn’t really know what was going on between us. Like, if we were a couple or whatever…we never really talked about that.”
He wants me to be his girlfriend! “So, you want to be a couple?” I smile back.
He responds by leaning down and grabbing the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss similar to our first. This time however, it’s the middle of the day, in the center of a crowded North Tide hallway. And there are more than just empty cars to bear witness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BRYCE
I have to run into the bathroom because I honestly think I’m going to puke. He kissed her. He kissed Joy, my Joy. I know for a fact, this is to get back at me and I can’t stay silent anymore. I’m not entirely sure what his game is yet, but man, I’m going to be watching every single move Carver makes.
I’m leaning over the sink when he enters, a tight little smirk still set on his face. We make eye contact in the mirror, and his smile turns into a full blown grin. “Look who it is…I was just thinking about you.” He starts to walk over to me, as a small dude nervously finishes his piss, then exits quickly, without washing his hands. The bell has already rung, but I don’t care if I’m late for my next period. There’s less of a chance getting caught kicking his ass if everyone else is in class.
“If you touch her, I will kill you.”
“Oh, I plan on it, Colton,” he replies arrogantly. “I plan on licking every single inch of her. I’ve already gotten a taste, and trust me, she’s delicious.”
I slam him hard up against bathroom wall and it’s eerily familiar of our bout freshman year. Though this time, we’re not encompassed by pink
and notably his head hits the tile much, much harder.
Carver laughs. “Come on now, don’t be jealous. It’s not my fault you never had the balls to get in her pants.”
I pull back my fist and as I’m about to release it into his face, when I remember somewhere in the back of my mind, that if I get into a fight it could jeopardize my scholarship. My hand drops like lead to my side.
“What’s the matter, have a change of heart?” He raises his eyebrows. “You wanna be friends again? I should have known you’d be a lover not a fighter.”
He knows.
Caver knows about the scholarship. He wants me to kick his ass. He wants me to lose it, that what this whole thing is about.
“Fuck you. You’re not worth it.” I spit out.
Carver laughs. “Apparently Joy isn’t either then, but I beg to differ. I think I may actually like her. I have to say at first I thought she was just another geek…but those pouty lips and puppy dog eyes? Man, don’t even get me started on what she’s got hiding under those clothes.” He starts to back away from me and laughs, smoothing his hair into place. “You know she likes me…like really likes me. I bet I make her wet just by looking at her.”
I can’t stand to hear him talk about Joy like she’s his own personal pleasure toy. I’m about to say screw the scholarship and rearrange his pretty face, when a teacher pops his head into the bathroom, checking for stragglers. He tells us to get to class, seemingly unaware of the bitter showdown that’s now taking place.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JOY
Football season comes to an end as November does. I hear something about the Sea Hounds winning the championship, but trying to avoid all things Bryce Colton, I don’t pay too much attention to the victory talk. In fact, I don’t pay much attention to anything at all. I spend every weekend with Carver. We do everything from movie dates, to (all ages) rock shows, and amazing make out sessions that always go a bit further. I’m assuming Farah has been going to party with her mystery boyfriend whom she still has not made the effort of introducing, because we never make plans anymore. I get so consumed by my relationship with Carver, that I almost miss the deadline for Brown. That becomes a wake-up call for me and after I submit my very last application, I make the decision to slow things down with him. It’s not that I don’t like him, I mean…god…those eyes. I’m just at a point where I need a little breathing room to get myself mentally prepared for my final semester of high school. So one night at the end of Christmas Vacation, Carver invites me to dinner. I decide it’s the perfect time to talk to him.