by Leanne Davis
She decided to spend the day finishing up all of her homework so that tomorrow she could work on the project without any distractions. Yes, that was the best plan. Mental reassurance was supposed to soothe her rapidly increasing anxiety. But it didn’t. Standing up, she tried to divert her attention but nothing worked. No TV shows looked interesting; there was no one she wanted to call, and she found nothing to scroll over on her phone.
Nate had a 4.0.
It still seemed so odd. It was weird. It was unexpected. But it was all she seemed to focus on and obsess about. That B+! She could not let it go. Each time she sat down to do her homework, be it reading, studying, writing, researching, and even group work, an intense burst of anxiety erupted from deep inside her. Could she do this? Why bother? She’d probably fail again. Maybe not fail… but she’d do fine. That wasn’t good enough. Fine. Fuck! She nearly screamed with frustration, but Janice, her roommate, was in her room. Ally would have sounded crazy if she started screaming at no one in particular. She went into her own room and locked the door. She knew she had to get a damn grip and let it go. Just deal with it. She was still an A student. Rationally, she knew and understood that, but inside, it didn’t feel like that anymore. Failure. Loser. Ordinary. The negative words kept repeating in her mind like a broken record, caught on the same track. How could Nate earn all As if she didn’t? It seemed like everyone else were superior to her, and only she failed. Ridiculous. She knew that was not true. She was considered outstanding, and almost unanimously. Adults. Her peers. Even Julia, Kylie, and Olivia all thought she was amazing.
Ally didn’t feel so amazing.
Her cell phone rang and she jumped on it, glad for the distraction. Seeing her mom’s name on the phone screen made her heart dip. Not because she didn’t want to talk to her, but because she still hadn’t told her mom about the B+. She wasn’t sure she could fake a convincing reaction with her mom. She had to be just the right amount of upset her mom would buy it, but not so upset her mom would go probing for anything.
“Hey, Mom.”
“How’d the studying go with Nate?”
“How did you know?” Ally frowned into her phone.
“Vickie mentioned it.”
Good God. Her family gossip monger: Vickie. It irritated her, but even more that Nate would have told Vickie about them. Why would he even mention that to her? It just proved how unnaturally close those two were, no matter what Nate said to the contrary. His actions undermined his claims of innocence in Ally’s mind.
“Vickie, of course. Would she even know what studying was?”
“Ally.” Her mom’s voice was brimming with maternal warning. “Be nice. She is your aunt and my sister. And we’ve already been over this many times before. Even if she is a bit of an eccentric, flighty mess, she still has some good qualities. Everybody does.”
“Like what? She can afford new tits every five years when she remarries?”
“Ally,” her mom scolded, but there was no heat in her exclamation, just laughter. “Okay, maybe. She is getting rather… over-endowed. But it kind of fits her personality.”
“It sure does. What do they do anyway? Have intimate, little stepmother/stepson update sessions? It’s so freaking weird. Sex with the son and the father.”
Tracy sighed. “Like a sister and her sister’s ex-husband? Come on, Ally. Judging by your standards, what I did with Donny was also wrong, but you don’t hammer me about it like you do Vickie.”
“Because it was under entirely different circumstances.”
“Not enough to change the result. They were still married, Ally. You knew that. I hurt your Aunt Vickie. It isn’t a natural relationship to start dating and then marry your little sister’s husband and her baby’s father. I don’t have any pride in what I did, but I did it anyway. I know what a big decision it was for Vickie to start dating Dane. As I told you, she even asked my advice. There is nothing between Nate and her now but a kind of brotherly-sisterly affection from both sides.”
“Moooom…” Ally deliberately dragged out. As if Tracy’s true love and superior relationship could be compared to any of Vickie’s flings. They were strictly for her benefit and only lasted until she got bored. Including Donny. “You’re comparing apples to oranges and you know it. You and Vickie? Again, yeah, right. It’s not the same. You didn’t shack up with the father of a guy you were previously sleeping with. And let’s not forget guy number five she just had to marry. It’s not the same thing.”
“Oh, honey, sometimes you need to unwind and let go a little bit. Don’t be so judgmental. Sometimes, life just happens and it isn’t planned or what anyone expects or would like it to be… but it doesn’t mean the people involved are bad. Life is not black and white. And it’s not perfect. Just… don’t forget that, okay?”
“I won’t, Mom.” Ally leaned back and sunk onto her bed. Her mom often tried to convince her to mellow out. Ally resented it. She rarely troubled her mother with worry, stress or confusion, not like Kylie caused her. Ally was obedient to her mom, and most other authority figures. She was not a shrinking violet, but was always respectful and responsive to whatever her family needed or wanted of her. That included Donny, Kylie, and Julia, but most of all, her mom. Every so often, her mom urged her to “lighten up, try to relax, don’t be so intolerant, accept whatever happens, and most of all, try to be nicer.”
If only her mom knew all the things she so readily accepted. Did her mom ever observe Kylie making out with multiple guys at parties right in the open? Letting their hands grope her all over? And disappearing into vacant rooms to do God-only-knows-what? It was hard, all right, not to judge her. And Ally thought she was halfway successful in that endeavor. She never once called Kylie the names she heard others calling her. Ally always told them to shut up, even if the derogatory remarks came from her own friends. Did her mom ever witness Kylie snorting cocaine, or smoking heroin, or simply drinking herself stupid with a bunch of low-lifes at rave parties? Ally once saw Kylie lying flat on the ground while a half dozen guys did shots off her naked body parts. Ally had witnessed way too much with Kylie. Nope. Tracy had no idea how many dangerous activities Kylie got into since college started. Not to mention, Ally was usually on call as Kylie’s go-to girl for rides home, or comfort when she drank herself sick. Ally had lost count of how many nights she had to collect her little sister from a random guy’s address. Kylie often just hooked up with a guy for the night and didn’t want to stay with him until breakfast. Sometimes at one, two, or even three o’clock in the morning, Kylie would call Ally to pick her up, which Ally always did, and no questions asked.
For the last few months, however, Kylie hadn’t called her in dire need. Kylie hadn’t called her at all really, since meeting Tristan. But that didn’t change the two years that Ally spent being totally available. She steadfastly withheld her criticism and excluded Kylie from her black-and-white reality. Ally handled her sister’s behavior and lifestyle very differently from how she handled the rest of her life.
Now that Kylie and Tristan were an item, it seemed to totally change Kylie. She preferred to spend all her time with Tristan, and as far as Ally observed, they didn’t do anything particularly wild or even controversial. They were always together, but didn’t go out partying or drinking or doing any of the other things that previously defined Kylie’s favorites.
Tristan seemed to be Kylie’s conscience; and Ally had a tough time combining the two sides of Kylie. There was the Kylie Ally knew and dutifully hid from the family; and the other Kylie that was emerging the longer she stayed with Tristan. They didn’t match. Not even remotely. They were two opposites, magnetically drawn together, and the result was an unrecognizable Kylie for Ally.
Ally was itching to explain some of that to her mom’s gentle digs about Ally being too rigid.
Little did her mother know how irrational she too could be, but in a totally different way than Kylie. Ally didn’t need others to witness it. She preferred to release her stress in her own
way.
Recently, it seemed to be happening more often than it used to. Ally started doing it when she was sixteen, but kept it in check until the last few months. She could go for a few weeks without even fighting the urge, especially when she lived at home with her mom. Her mom was super-focused on her children and noticed almost everything about them, even if Kylie didn’t think she did. Mom just knew how to keep quiet and pretend she didn’t know to others.
While living at home, Ally was very careful and selective when the need arose to do her thing. It didn’t happen every time she ate; God, no. She wasn’t that pathetic or undisciplined. How careless would that have been? Someone could see or hear her secret. All the time was just crazy. She wasn’t like that. For Ally, it was more like the ultimate stress releaser. It was fun, actually. Really. What could be better than eating anything and everything you ever wanted? And splurging on tons and tons of it without any thought or limitations? She loved to gorge herself on all of her favorite, sinful delights. It was the only time she wasn’t so rigid, or polished, or judgmental, was she? No, not until she had to get rid of it.
Once in a while, it happened. Nothing hurt someone if it only happened once in a while. Look at Kylie. She dabbled in drugs a couple of times during the school year at rave parties without any long terms effects. Kylie wasn’t a closet drug addict. Even alcohol, which she imbibed in more often, had no long term effects on her. So Ally never did drugs, and rarely, oh-so-rarely, drank a glass of wine or a single beer, because her favorite indulgence was chocolate.
Cake. Candy. Pie. Ice cream. Whatever. As long as it was yummy. Ally truly believed it was far better to occasionally splurge on dessert than to try freaking heroin or LSD or whatever other mysterious designer chemicals her sister ingested. No chemicals for Ally. Nothing illegal. Nothing that could get her arrested, addicted or hurt.
Just dessert.
In comparison to what Kylie experienced, her secret kept Ally in perspective. Sometimes, after she had a particularly dramatic experience or did it too often, especially back to back, Ally freaked out and worried she could have a real problem. But usually, Kylie would call to ask for something from her and she once again remembered, oh, yes, she wasn’t so bad. Not as bad as Kylie. So she was doing okay.
Now Kylie had quit calling her.
It should not have mattered so much, and Ally was truly thrilled her sister no longer called her in those inebriated states. She didn’t like her sister doing drugs, drinking, and having casual sex so often in uncontrollable settings.
But Ally was just a little bit lost without her sister’s dependence on her. It was a role she admittedly resented for ten years, but one that she was familiar with. It made her who she was… Kylie’s keeper. The keeper of her secrets, and her physical safety, and her sex life, and her failures, and her health.
Was there just a smattering of jealousy towards her sister? Kylie always kept her weight at or under a hundred pounds. It wasn’t a hardship for her since she just didn’t care about food. How could anyone lack the urge to eat? It didn’t compute for Ally. How could Kylie ignore eating to the extent of being considered anorexic ever since she was a young teen? She truly didn’t care if she ate or starved. She rarely thought about food, which didn’t seem possible to Ally. How? How could anyone not think about food sometime during the day?
Ally tried with all her might not to eat on a daily basis. Although she wasn’t particularly skinny, her figure also wasn’t one that would alarm anyone or make them think she had any issues. She was average height and weight, or maybe slightly under average. But nothing like Kylie, who was waif-like. It seemed so cruel to Ally, who strove so diligently to just remain slightly under average. It was something Ally thought about from the time she woke up until she closed her eyes at bedtime. When and what could she eat next? What had she already eaten? Was she getting fat? Was her binging beginning to show? Were too many calories clinging to her hips of late? That particular subject was the only one she actively worked at, thought about, kept track of, and maybe obsessed over. Sometimes, the pressure to maintain her level of care caused her to binge a bit. Then she had to purge it all out of her, to counteract what she did. Fine. So she did that. But she was always in control of it and had been for many years.
“So you didn’t answer me, how do you and Nate work together? I’ve listened to you two bicker so often that I can’t imagine how you’d manage to agree long enough to finish an assignment.”
“We kind of buried the hatchet so to speak. Did you know his mom died when he was only fifteen?”
“Yes, Vickie mentioned that to me. She was a big time lawyer. In fact, I think she might have practiced law in the same field that you plan to enter.” Her mom’s voice always rang with such pleasure when she talked about Ally’s grades and her future plans. Her mom stayed at home, and had no work history or schooling beyond high school. Her husband, Ally and Kylie’s dad, skipped out and disappeared from their lives. Devastated, and without any marketable job skills, Ally’s mom had to forge a new life. She had to find a job with no experience, except being a mother and housewife. From then on, Tracy encouraged, and rather forcefully, her daughters to get a college education. She insisted they make their own way in the world without depending on any man. No matter the circumstances, having a college degree meant they could have it to fall back on no matter what happened. As for Ally’s plans to be a lawyer? Tracy, was crazy about it. Knowing Ally’s strong sense of right and wrong, even if it were as obvious and black-and-white as her mother complained, it suited her chosen profession. Tracy often proudly described Ally’s talents for debate and her ability to assimilate new information which she had no trouble discussing at length. Bright, intelligent, and well-versed in various points of view made Ally a fierce opponent when debating anyone. In many ways, Ally was convinced her mom was living vicariously through her, the life that Tracy could not have lived.
“Yes, he mentioned that. Did you know he intends to practice environmental law too? And that he gets really good grades? I would have never guessed. I mean, he’s so—”
“Smart, articulate, and able to win some arguments with you? Actually, it kind of fits him.”
“Maybe,” Ally muttered indignantly, which made her mom laugh. “Speaking of grades, I only got a B+ in geology, so no more 4.0 GPA.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I know how important that was to you.” Ally was glad it was said and done and grateful that her mom didn’t reply with stupid platitudes about how good she was, or that a B+ was not the end of the world. At least one person seemed to get how much that meant to her. Though she didn’t admit it to her mom, she often lay awake at night, reliving it.
What could she have done differently? Or written. Sometimes, she wanted to smack her forehead against the wall for getting one question so wrong. She also didn’t confess the sudden freezing fear she now possessed that she could miss something else so drastically again and lower her GPA even more.
Ally had to be better. And that’s what was causing her distress, although, at the time it happened, she thought she was improving. She accomplished her work in the same way as she had for the last three years. “Yes, I was disappointed. But I guess it’s only one grade, right?” Ally tried to keep her voice easy, not too fake-cheery, which would tip her mom off, but in a rational, normal reaction to her grade might be.
“Yes. But you’re allowed to be sad. You always work so hard.” She did too; although many people assumed it just came naturally to her. No. It wasn’t easy for her. She worked as hard as was necessary to earn her high grades. Or not, as in this case.
“Well, I still have a 3.9. I was just going to start some of my homework. I have a really hard load this year so…”
“So I’ll let you go. Tristan and Kylie are coming for dinner next week, do you want to come?”
“No, Nate and I have plans to work on the project. I’ll skip it.” How odd to say, Nate and her had plans.
“Well then, think about two
weeks after that. They seem to come about every other weekend. Strange, too. Seeing Kylie so regularly, but funny enough, I think it’s Tristan who likes to come here. I think he likes the kind of family we are.”
“Sure. I can plan on that. Can you believe where they are this weekend?”
“Vancouver, Washington for a business conference. They are staying in a hotel. She called just about an hour ago or so and said she was walking around the city and having a great time. I have to tell you, it’s rather odd, but I’m trying to get used to Kylie being so… cheerful.”
Why wouldn’t Kylie call and tell me? thought Ally Or at least, ask my advice about it? Like what to wear, or how to pack, or what kind of behavior was expected of her there? What did Kylie know about acting professionally at a conference? Ally hated the immediate stab of jealousy she felt. Kylie, of all people, a college junior, was attending a business conference? “What could she possibly do there? And why would Tristan want her to go?”
“Well, I assume probably because he likes her. They seem pretty serious about each other. They have become somewhat inseparable as far as I can gather.”
“I rarely hear from her anymore,” Ally complained. Nor did she reply more than half the times Ally texted her.
“I have to admit it’s not the behavior I would have predicted from her.”
“When did she ever exhibit predictable behavior?”
“Good point. I like Tristan. I think he has a lot of good qualities that actually seem to improve Kylie. He obviously believes in her, likes her, and gets her just as she is. But then again, I worry if he’s too old for her. He’ll want the things she’s not ready for yet. I didn’t expect anything like this, so I’m not quite sure how to feel.”
“I agree. I like Tristan too. I mean, who wouldn’t? But he and Kylie as an item? Doesn’t seem a likely match. Who knows what will happen?”
“That’s true. I expected you would have the first serious boyfriend. I honestly am not quite sure how to feel.”