Who You Wit'?

by Paula Chase

  She squinted up at Jacinta. “So I’m guessing it’s too late to make that pact with Lizzie and Kelly?”

  Jacinta chuckled, knocking shoulders with her. “I’m thinking, yeah.”

  Competition

  “Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?”

  —PussyCat Dolls ft. Busta Rhymes, “Don’t Cha”

  The next morning, Lizzie waited for Mina amidst the usual muted morning cacophony echoing throughout the corridor—a mix of excitement to be back among one another for the school year’s last few weeks and disgust at having to put up with classes simply to get a social fix.

  Traffic built around Lizzie in pockets, then buzzed by, making room for the next shift. Poised patiently against Mina’s locker in a yellow vintage Gotta Have My Pops! tee shirt, she blended in with the bright dandelion-colored locker bay. Every few seconds, her back vibrated as lockers jangled open and clattered shut with students going about their morning.

  Angling her shoulder so Mina’s neighbor could maneuver, Lizzie glanced down the crowded hallway, hoping to catch Mina rushing through. She wanted to put in a quick plug for the pact and get Mina’s final answer.

  Plug for the pact. It sounded like a commercial pleading for a cause.

  Don’t forget to wear your plug for the pact. Show your support today.

  In a way, it was a cause. And Lizzie was definitely campaigning for Mina’s support. An idea took hold, making her chuckle to herself.

  She should get ribbons made up. Red for AIDS, pink for breast cancer…and white for virgins. White made the most sense, of course, because it stood for purity. So she, Mina, and Kelly could wear tiny white ribbons. No one would have to know what they meant. It would be another one of their inside jokes.

  Or we could tell people, and soon, all the virgins will want one, Lizzie thought, snickering quietly. She dodged to the side, barely missing getting clipped by a locker closing, and backed into Todd.

  “Don’t tell me you’re laughing at another guy’s jokes. You’ll break my heart.” He laid his arm around her shoulder, hugging Lizzie to him. She was squeezed gently against his stomach. “So what’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Just having an imaginary conversation with myself,” Lizzie said.

  Todd leaned down and planted a kiss on Lizzie’s lips. Her face warmed at the affection. She still wasn’t quite used to public affection. But Todd, either unaware or (most likely) unaffected by the attention a few passing girls paid to them, straightened up, his arm still firmly around Lizzie’s shoulder, and kept talking. “I have conversations with myself all the time. As a matter-of-fact, I had a good convo last night when my girlfriend blew me off to study. I said, Todd.” Todd’s face was a cartoon as he conversed with himself. “And I said, What’s up, dude? And I’m like, dude, she blew you off for homework. You’re losing your touch. I was all, Du-u-u-ude, it’s no big. And then…”

  Laughing, Lizzie put her hand up to stop him. “Okay, okay. Let me guess…dating etiquette says I should apologize for leaving you hanging last night?”

  Todd touched one finger to his nose and pointed another at Lizzie, smiling.

  “Sorry. I’m worried about my AP Lit final.” Lizzie shrugged in apology. “I really had to study.”

  What she didn’t share was how badly she’d wanted to ditch studying to talk to him. She’d been tempted, very tempted. Todd had no idea just how much he filled her thoughts. At least, she didn’t think he knew, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was bad enough she was already one of those girls who grinned like an idiot whenever she was around him.

  Todd’s eyes rolled in exasperation. “Lizzie, you’re a straight A Alice. Seriously, dude, you should be teaching the Lit class.” He began walking, nudging Lizzie along with him. She glanced back, checking for signs of Mina. Seeing none, she let herself be guided off.

  I’ll catch her later, Lizzie thought, enjoying being in the crook of Todd’s arms. She felt the soft, downy hair on his arm against her neck, tickling, and stifled a giggle.

  Every other person they passed said hello to Todd, dapping him up with pounds and hand shakes, exchanging quick inside jokes or weak one-liners. He acknowledged them all without missing a beat with Lizzie. “I’m just saying, the Bay Dra-da season is over, and I thought maybe…” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You might make a little more Toddie time.”

  They stopped in front of her AP Lit class, side by side, her still tucked under his wing.

  Lizzie looked up into Todd’s blue eyes, bright with mischievous humor. Her face burned under his intensely amused attention. But her chest filled with a warm happiness at the thought of spending more time with him before he left for Cali to visit his brother for a few weeks and before summer theatre kicked into high gear.

  Respecting Lizzie’s aversion to being called out by a teacher for hallway PDA, Todd ducked in for another quick, yet teasingly lingering kiss.

  The soft memory of his kiss tingled Lizzie’s lips, and she merely nodded in agreement as a long, leggy brunette with thick, curly hair stopped in front of them. Lizzie recognized her as a junior on the volleyball team. The girl’s legs, tawny, tan, and athletic, went on for days in an ultra miniskirt. She was nearly Todd’s height. They towered above Lizzie.

  She gave Lizzie a quick, perfunctory hello before launching into a lengthy and animated discussion with Todd. Her polite ig took Lizzie by surprise, but only for a second. There were a few things that came with being Todd’s girlfriend that she still wrestled with:

  1) The Hallway PDA, though admittedly she’d grown to like that more than she’d ever admit.

  2) Being half of a “popular” couple.

  3) Being ignored by girls who assaulted Todd with their silly, pointless banter as if they were on some hidden camera date show and gaining points for being the girl who laughed the hardest and loudest at Todd’s barrage of corny jokes.

  Lizzie wasn’t sure which grated on her more—the being a popular couple thing or getting the ig from girls like Miss Teen Volleyball.

  As much as she hated it, she was almost used to the ig. It happened all the time. After getting the ig from some girl, Lizzie always had to inform Todd that the girls were totally flirting with him. She never brought it up in a jealous way, just as an observation. Todd always joked it off.

  “I never believe my own hype, Liz-O,” he’d say with that infectiously devilish grin.

  It was that “Aw, who me, popular?” way about Todd that Lizzie loved. Even though secretly, it angered her how blatantly the girls ignored her to flirt with her boyfriend.

  Hello, and right in my face, she thought, eyeing Volleyball Girl’s hair toss and wide-eyed head shake at one of Todd’s cracks.

  Lizzie grimaced. She refused to be that openly infatuated with anyone, even Todd. Although, more than once, in the middle of one of their fifteen-minute make-out marathons, Todd’s arms wrapped around her, her body pressed against his hard chest, she’d definitely thought how envious those girls would be if they could see that.

  Take that, Volleyball Girl! Lizzie thought, secretly disliking the brunette chatting up her boyfriend.

  She almost wished he’d let the full walnut brown-colored hair grow back and stop working out until his abs showed good ol’ rib, like it used to. Maybe it would cut down on chicks like Volleyball Girl here stopping to…to what, exactly?

  She listened in to the conversation for the first time.

  Todd talked easily, as if this weren’t their first encounter. He brushed hair out of his face, a nervous habit of his, and joked with the girl about how her long legs would equal a sick vertical leap if she played basketball. And, of course, Volleyball Girl laughed.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes, marveling at how Todd made witty banter with anyone.

  Conscious that Todd still had his arm around her and that she probably looked like a pod person, standing there gape-mouthed, Lizzie cleared her throat. Catching the hint, Todd brushed his hair out of his face and wrapped up the conversat
ion. “Cool. Look, Cassie, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “See you, Todd,” Cassie said, wiggling her fingers slowly in the world’s flirtiest wave. She turned and swayed her way down the hall.

  Sure that Todd was watching Cassie’s long model-volleyball legs in that ultra miniskirt, Lizzie slyly ping-ponged from Cassie to him. But Todd was looking her in the face.

  “Alright, so you gonna blow me off later, too?” Todd asked, his face an exaggerated wince. “Maybe you have some Russian to study or something?”

  “You know I don’t take Russian,” Lizzie said, happy that Todd hadn’t watched Cassie’s smooth, leggy exit. Her grin practically wrapped around her head.

  “Well, French then? Spanish? Physics?” Todd threw up his hands in surrender. “What else is gonna come before your dude?”

  Lizzie took his hand in hers. “Chillax, dude.”

  She laughed up into Todd’s smiling face.

  “Seriously. Wanna meet at the Ria?” Lizzie asked.

  “Well, my stahs, Miss Lizzie, ah yew asking lil’ ol’ me on a date?” Todd said in a poor Scarlett O’Hara southern accent.

  The first bell rang. “Right after school,” Lizzie said, firming up the plans.

  “Cool.” Todd pulled Lizzie to him and gave her a full kiss on the lips. “I’ll wait for you by the flagpole.”

  Lizzie watched him saunter down the hall. He was obviously in no hurry to beat the second bell. A few people fell into step beside him. Before she turned to head into her classroom, Lizzie heard Todd’s voice—she couldn’t make out what he said, but she waited a few seconds and sure enough, the expected eruption of laughter from his audience followed.

  S*#% Happens…

  All the Time

  “These sleeping dogs won’t lie.”

  —All-American Rejects, “Dirty Little Secret”

  If Mina had any lingering day after regrets or jitters, Jacinta couldn’t tell. The ride to school was same as always: Jacinta walked to Mina’s house. Brian drove up in his Explorer and blew the horn once. Jacinta hopped in the back, mumbled a “how y’all doing?” to the guys; Michael, still waking up, gave his usual nod while JZ hollered, “hey, girl,” louder than necessary at six-thirty AM as Mina waited impatiently for him to relinquish his hold on the front seat. The two exchanged a few obligatory barbs, “Move, big head,” followed by, “Why can’t you sit in the back?” even as JZ obliged. Then Mina stepped in, bent over the middle console, and planted her sweetie kiss on Brian’s lips.

  End scene.

  It was the same morning every school day—had been for fifteen months.

  For all of Mina’s confusion and uncertainty yesterday, today was just today, same as last Monday and every Monday before it.

  Jacinta toyed with that thought as the clique joked around her, amazed at how the world kept going even when something huge was happening to people. Watching Mina nag at JZ and tease Michael, all while keeping her arm just near enough to Brian’s on the console that they touched, Jacinta had to remind herself that just twelve hours ago, Mina had been a total wreck.

  A bitter envy stung Jacinta at the way Mina went wherever her emotions carried her. She thought she was used to Mina’s very public highs and lows. Whether she was being embarrassed in front of half the student body on a beach or rambling in the hallway excitedly, Mina wore how she felt on her sleeve and dared anyone to give her grief for it—which Jacinta did.

  At first, Jacinta teased Mina’s brimming emotions because it irked her. She wasn’t used to being around girls so open with their feelings, and sometimes, being around Mina was like having a single fly swarm your head. You could swat and swat, but the fly kept flitting about.

  Jacinta poked fun at Mina simply because it was easier than admitting that she wished she could be so free with her emotions, at least every now and then. But crying in public or gushing about how much she loved Raheem just wasn’t her.

  She wished it was because then, maybe at some point the other day, she could have found a way to bring up her own minicrisis.

  Mini was putting it mildly. But she was sticking to that adjective to hold off the panic lurking at the corners of her mind.

  The clique’s clucking grew louder as Michael joined in, his early morning freeze thawing at the same exact spot as always—as the SUV glided slowly out of The Woods and onto the main strip, where it would take ten minutes to get to DRB High. Always ten minutes. Twenty if Brian stopped at the Blarney Bean, an early morning hangout that served the hottest (and in Jacinta’s opinion, nastiest) coffee ever.

  Her disdain for the Blarney was the minority opinion. The shop was routinely packed with students and commuters alike in the morning. The only equivalent was Rio’s Ria in the afternoon, after the high and middle schools let out. If Jacinta didn’t know better, she’d swear both places laced their food with crack to keep the streams of people spilling out of their doors. She loved the Ria. But slurping up Blarney iced or hot coffee was one ’burb habit Jacinta passed on.

  She silently willed Brian to bypass the coffeehouse this morning and cheered inside when the truck crawled along in the dense traffic instead of joining the left turn lane. No espresso today, she thought relieved. Just the thought of the strong coffee’s thick scent tugged at her empty stomach, making it cramp. The involuntary contraction stopped her swirling thoughts. She held her breath for a beat, waiting and getting what she wanted—another lurching clench.

  Yes!

  Jacinta relaxed in the leather seats and waited for the cramps to grow from a whisper to a squall in her belly and for the first time in days, allowed her mind to go to the other reason she was glad her period was coming.

  It was late. Three days late, to be exact.

  She shuddered at the four-letter word.

  JZ nudged her. “Want me put the window up?”

  Jacinta shook her head. It was an unseasonably warm morning, and the cool spring air floating into the truck actually calmed her. Still, she absently hugged her arms closer to her body, as if warding off the chill coursing down her spine from the thought of L-A-T-E.

  JZ gave her one last confused frown before answering Brian about their weekly pickup game. Mina loudly reminded Michael that he would be missing the game or risk her wrath because he’d promised to deliver Mina’s prom dress that day. Jacinta laughed along with everyone else at the empty threat. Michael was every bit of five inches taller than Mina’s petite five feet. She was hardly someone to fear, unless you just didn’t feel like hearing her mouth. No one knew that better than Michael, and he went along good-naturedly.

  Yesterday had been the first time Jacinta had ever seen perpetually upbeat Mina so freaked out. Check that. Mina could overreact with the best of them. But it was always coupled with a bright side or a plan. Mina had been planless, yesterday, torn about the pact and the fact that there was no way she could take it.

  No matter how many times Jacinta pointed out that everything couldn’t be broken down into steps, her friends believed in preparing like some people believed in God. In Jacinta’s opinion, as much as she had grown to love her ’burb girlfriends, their obsession with planning was exactly why they were always so lost when something unexpected hit them.

  Not like her.

  Shit happens…all the time. That was Jacinta’s philosophy.

  It was why when Raheem smacked her at the cheer competition (the girls still talked about that like it had happened yesterday instead of last year), then Jacinta had smacked him back to remind him that he was fool crazy for raising his hand at her.

  It was why she and Raheem broke up, then got back together and argued on occasion (many occasions).

  It was why, since Raheem had made it official that he was committing to Georgetown, he’d suddenly been “we, we’ing” her to death.

  Every time they talked, it was “we this,” and “we that,” about their future.

  And, it was why her period was late. Shit happens…all the time, even apparently, when you did what you
could to prevent it.

  Jacinta zoned in on the passing scenery, large houses, small houses, lush green trees blooming with pretty flowers, nothing like the sparse landscaping in her old neighborhood, and realized she actually knew who lived in at least half a dozen of the homes they passed. And not just knew them, but had hung out with them, made memories all along the corridor that led from the high school to the neighborhoods surrounding Cimarra Beach.

  To the left was Todd’s house, a big brick house with a stone driveway, and Jared Cornwell’s was the bright yellow rancher. Jacinta and the girls had once chased Jared halfway to the school after he water ballooned them. In a second, the truck would pass the spot where JZ had smacked the bottom of Kelly’s peppermint mochachino cup, making it fly out of her hand and all over the sidewalk. It was the first time Jacinta had ever seen Kelly get seriously angry—so mad that JZ had to walk back to the Blarney and buy her a new one.

  Jacinta couldn’t say when it happened, but The Woods and DRB High school had finally become her home. It had been an unsettling realization at first, but now she had so many connections to the people and the places she saw everyday that it had been forever since she’d cursed how slow the week went, aching to be back in Pirates Cove on weekends. Now, it was the opposite. She’d go to The Cove to see her family and count the hours to head back and check in with the clique, especially JZ, who had become her escape. Around him, she didn’t have to think about boyfriends and futures or (no disrespect to Mina and the girls) being so correct and proper, worrying about hurting someone’s feelings with one of her blunt truths.

  Jacinta never worried that any drama would pop off when she dropped in to see JZ, something she’d taken to doing (apparently not as on the low as she thought) after especially cloying weekends with Raheem. And lately, every weekend with Raheem was smothering.

  Hanging out with JZ wasn’t anything she hid from the clique, just not anything either of them announced or talked about. They were just friends. If the friendliness dipped into a fierce game of flirting…well, who could blame her? JZ was…