by Paula Chase
Angel pushed at it again with his foot for good measure before laughing and lapsing into a conversation with Raheem about the rest of their night. Jacinta let them go on. She stared into the night, gladly tucking the idea of pregnancies and babies away the closer they got to The Woods.
“Dude, This Sucks”
“It was nice to know you, but I got to move on.”
—Young Berg, “Sexy Lady”
Lizzie pushed up through the water. Coming from the muted, warm depths of the deep end to the loud, cool surface made her ears pop. Her head swiveled left to right, checking on the whereabouts of her competition.
“Did we win?” she yelled over the party’s noise to Michael. Dogpaddling to the side of the chaise, she gripped the edge of the float and asked again. “Mike, did we win?”
“No. We won,” Marissa declared.
There was a lighthearted, but slightly heated exchange between Michael and the skinny, horse-faced guy Marissa had been pushing in the chaise race. The game had grown more intense with each round of competitors working to knock Lizzie and Michael out of the champion spot.
Lizzie was certain they’d won again, but she let Michael challenge Marissa’s claims that only Michael’s chair had touched the wall, not his hand, which was the rule. While Michael debated the finer points of water chair racing, Lizzie treaded water and stared across the pool into a far corner of the yard.
Todd sat, surrounded by some of the basketball players, three girls Lizzie didn’t know, and Volleyball Girl. Lizzie could only surmise that they were discussing anatomy because the girls were touching each guy’s arms and chest, clearly making comparisons. One girl’s hands lingered on Todd’s shoulders, caressing playfully.
Jealousy dug its claws into Lizzie. A second too late, she remembered to keep herself fully afloat, and water seeped into her open mouth. She sputtered and grabbed hold of the chaise.
For the last hour, she’d tried to ignore her nerves, worrying whether Todd was going to say anything to her or if she should approach him. Staying in the pool racing had helped, especially winning every round. But any time there’d been a lull in activity, she slyly searched for Todd. For the last twenty minutes, he’d been in that same corner chatting away.
The starting line for the race was on the shallow end, right where Todd sat. Lizzie couldn’t be certain, but she thought she’d heard Vollyball Girl (Cassie) say, “Isn’t that your girlfriend right there?”
Lizzie assumed she was talking to Todd and wondered—was she asking because Todd denied having a girlfriend? Or was she simply asking as a point of clarification?
Lizzie never heard the answer. Jake had blown the whistle to start the race. Lizzie had never swum so hard and so furiously in her life. In the seconds it took to get to the deep end, she’d already imagined Todd and the leggy brunette holding hands and laughing at how crazy Lizzie was to let something as minor as a little nude wrestling break them up.
Are we broken up? she wondered.
Todd had barely spoken a dozen words to her since Wednesday.
Now he and Volleyball Girl were talking privately, still part of the larger group, yet obviously having a side convo. Todd must have said something funny—typical—because she threw her head back and laughed. She ran her fingers through her lush hair, pushing it off her face. Folding her long legs demurely, she sat up, leaning into the conversation. It was more than Lizzie could take.
“Mike, I’m going to get out for a little bit,” she said. She massaged her sore arms. “I’m so paying for all these athletics tomorrow.”
Mike nodded knowingly. “Yeah. Go talk to him, Liz.”
With some effort, Lizzie climbed the ladder out of the pool. The night’s chill pricked her skin, and goose bumps raced, covering every inch of her body. She waddled over to her clothes and dried off as quickly as possible, wrapping a blue beach towel around her. Still damp, she slipped her shorts on, then unraveled the towel, moving it from her body to her hair in a turban. A second too late, she realized it would be impossible to get her shirt on over the turban.
She sat down heavily on a nearby chair, glaring over at Todd and massaging her sore, and now cold, arms. She watched him, now once more entertaining the gaggle of girls, his nervous hair sweep disappearing as the girls’ laughter grew, and he became the hot surfer boy everyone else seemed to notice instantly.
Why didn’t he come talk to her?
Her eyes scanned the yard, searching for the clique—neither Kelly nor Jacinta were there yet—before automatically rising toward Brian’s window.
Was Mina bold enough to sneak off to Brian’s room with his parents in the house?
The thought made her stomach clench. Out of fear for Mina getting caught or the thought that she was the only one not bold enough to keep taking chances, Lizzie wasn’t sure.
Sitting there alone, her boyfriend off having his shoulders rubbed by an athletic Amazon, Lizzie felt utterly elementary.
Tears burned her eyes. She reached hurriedly into her bag and grabbed her shades. Wearing shades at night was way movie starish, but it beat sitting in the dark, crying like a dork. She wiped the tear track from her face and pretended to be engrossed in searching for something in her bag. It nearly flew out of her hand when a shadow fell over her, blocking the swath of light illuminating her little corner of the pool.
“Hey,” Todd said simply.
“Hey.” A thrill shivered down Lizzie’s back, and she cringed at being so happy that Todd had come over.
Todd pushed a mass of tee shirts and shorts off a nearby table and sat on its edge, his long legs splayed in front of him. His eyes skated across the landscape, looking over Lizzie’s head toward the basketball court. After a few seconds, they finally settled their nervous dance, but still refused to connect with Lizzie’s. She looked up at him as he cleared his throat, shifted on the table, and clasped his hands behind his neck.
“Liz, I—”
“I’m sorry,” Lizzie said. She hadn’t had any intention of apologizing. But it had come out, and she quickly explained herself. “I mean, I’m not sorry about making the pact with Kelly. But…” Lizzie fiddled with the towel, and it slumped in a pile from her head. She busied herself folding it while she spoke. “I am sorry that I didn’t…you know, tell you.”
Todd got a funny look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, and Lizzie thought he was about to make a joke, but instead, he blew out an explosive breath. “Dude, this sucks.”
“I know,” Lizzie said.
“Look, don’t take this wrong. You’re cool, Liz.” Todd’s words came out in a rush. “I love kicking it with you and all. But it’s like, this whole abstinence thing is too weird for me.”
“How is it weird?” Lizzie scowled.
“Man, ’cause I thought we were tighter than that.” Todd paused as one of the varsity players walked up and gave him a pound. Once the guy passed, Todd continued, his voice low. “It’s like you don’t trust me or something.”
“It’s just something I want to do.” Lizzie frowned, confused. “What does trust have to do with it?”
“Everything.” Todd threw up his hands as if the conversation was hopeless. “So basically, you don’t trust that I’ll respect you saying no? What am I, a total dickhead?” His eyes rolled. “Totally no pun intended. But so you had to go all, ‘I pledge never to let Todd touch me,’ on me?”
Lizzie peered at him to see if he was joking. But Todd’s blue eyes were flat. She’d never seen them so devoid of humor. It left her speechless.
Todd’s words poured as if he’d saved up every thought he’d had for tonight.
“And you don’t get it. Just a few seconds ago, you said you were sorry for not telling me about the pact.” His mouth turned up in disgust.
“But I am,” Lizzie said.
What was wrong with that? she wondered. She felt like she was losing her mind.
“Sorry for not telling me. But not sorry that you never asked me how I felt about
you even wanting to take a pledge?” For the first time, his eyes locked on hers. “It can work both ways, you know? If I was like”—Todd’s voice took on a doofy country drawl—“‘Yeah, Lizzie, I decided I want us to have sex. Let’s do it.’—I’d be a sleaze. Am I right?”
“Well—” Lizzie stopped and thought about it. She’d never thought about it that way. Todd had never forced her to go any further than she wanted. The desperation she felt, wanting to say the right thing to Todd sat heavily on her chest. At this point, she was ready to apologize for the hole in the ozone layer if it meant squashing the argument and moving on. “So you’re mad because I didn’t tell you?”
“Dude, I have an older sister. I so don’t mind bossy chicks.” He chuckled bitterly. “Telling me we have zero chance of hooking up is bad enough. But it’s like you decided it with all your girls first and then sent me a written notice about your chastity vow.” Todd snorted. “It’s not cool, Liz.”
As Todd’s voice got louder and more animated, Lizzie head checked to see if they were making a scene. But the party went on, unfazed.
“Are we going to compromise or something?” Lizzie asked quietly.
“How?” Todd threw his arms up, and they came down on his board shorts with a dull smack. “You’ve already taken the oath, right?”
“Yeah. No. I mean…I don’t know,” Lizzie said, wishing he’d follow her lead and speak lower.
Todd stood up. He looked to the corner where he’d come from. Volleyball Girl was still there. Lizzie followed his gaze, and her mouth went dry. She was an A student, but it didn’t take book smarts to figure out what was about to happen.
Her heart froze, and she switched gears, preparing for the boom.
Fine, let it be over, she thought.
Part of her almost wanted that. Wanted it over so she could go back to thinking with all of her brain instead of half of it. She didn’t need someone having that much control over her.
But the part of her that went mushy inside when he called or walked her to class wouldn’t go without a fight.
“If I had talked to you first and said I wanted to take the pact—” Lizzie stopped and waited for him to fill in the blanks.
Todd turned back to her. Some of the sparkle was back in his eyes and voice. “I don’t know. Buy stock in Vaseline, I guess.” He chuckled under his breath.
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and for a second, Lizzie held out hope that Todd would say something Todd-goofy, like, “Alright, well, dude, next time just let me know what’s up first.” But he didn’t. His eyes did their nervous dance again, glancing over her head, then back to the ground. His foot kicked at the concrete as if he was trying to remove a stain. He looked back over at the basketball court, then finally at her. When he spoke, he coughed up the words as if someone had whacked him on the back, helping him spit them out.
“Guess this is going to majorly fug up our friendship, huh?”
This.
Lizzie knew what this was. And she wasn’t sure what hurt more, that Todd was breaking up with her or that he’d informed her that they were breaking up by telling her how much the breakup was going to suck.
She peered up at his hurt face. He looked as if he didn’t really want to do this. And Lizzie wanted to scream, then why are you? But she knew why. And that sucked, too. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, she shook her head no, too choked up to speak.
“No?” Todd peered down at her. Lizzie heard hope in his voice, but she didn’t have the strength to reassure him again.
“But I’m a lame, right?” Todd asked, sounding sad about it.
Lizzie managed a thin smile. “Majorly,” she squeaked.
The tears were coming soon. She wanted (needed) him to leave. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him even though her ducts were flooding. Thankfully, Todd stood up.
“See you around?” He asked, hope in his voice.
Lizzie nodded. She held her breath. The effort kept the tears at bay until Todd finally walked off.
Dividing Lines
“You coulda been more involved but no,
I’m not the girl that you knew before.”
—Tiffany Evans ft. Bow Wow, “I’m Grown”
At eleven o’clock on the dot, Brian’s parents swooped in and cleared out the backyard like a duo of riot cops. Everyone respectfully vacated the yard, streaming into the front yard and to their cars, talking, some making plans for the hour until their license dictated it was time to head home. Mina gave Brian a quick kiss on the lips and searched the yard for Lizzie, figuring they’d walk to her house since Kelly and Jacinta hadn’t shown up.
It was only as Mina stood in the front yard saying good-bye to Sara that she saw the girls. Lizzie, Kelly, and Jacinta stood by Kelly’s car, talking to JZ. When Mina walked over, they all wordlessly got in the car.
Mina eyed JZ quizzically.
He shrugged. “Rough night, I guess.”
The ride from Brian’s house to Mina’s was a short one, but long enough for Mina to know something was wrong.
The girls’ footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors of the silent house as they filed inside. Mina’s parents, no longer on twenty-four/seven chauffeur duty, were now enjoying their own newfound freedom.
Mina plucked a note from atop the counter informing her they’d be home by midnight.
“Hey, we still have forty minutes. Afterparty,” Mina declared giddily. “Let’s call the guys and invite them over.”
She was greeted with silence.
“Okay, that was a joke.” Mina frowned and eyed her friends. Jacinta gave her a shrug. “What’s wrong?”
She flipped the light on in the sunroom and plopped on the large sectional sofa. Jacinta sat on one side of her, Kelly the other. Lizzie pulled up an ottoman, facing them. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“I’m not really up for a sleepover tonight,” she said.
“Why not? Todd’s going to be with Brian in DC all day tomorrow. We may as well do the girls’ thing,” Mina said.
Lizzie’s lips pursed. “Is that the only reason you had us over? Because the guys already have plans tomorrow?”
Mina’s eyebrow jumped, but her voice was calm. “Hello, we’ve had tonight planned for two weeks.” She tugged at her spiky ponytail. “Y’all were supposed to be trying new do’s on me.”
“Your hair’s too short now to do anything with,” Lizzie said, her voice heavy. Her fingers fiddled with her own hair, flowing just past her shoulders.
“Liz, what’s wrong?” Mina looked from Kelly to Jacinta. “What did I miss?”
Jacinta’s eyebrows shrugged.
“Todd broke up with me tonight.” Lizzie sat up, cross-legged, on the ottoman and straightened her back.
“Lizzie, no,” Mina said. She scooted off the sofa and sat beside Lizzie. “Why didn’t you come find me?”
“Why didn’t you come find me?” Lizzie said. Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, swiping at a random tear. Her eyebrow steepled. “Did you and Brian sneak off to his room?”
Jacinta chuckled. “Quickie,” she sang.
Mina shook her head. “Okay not. His parents were there.” She furrowed her eyebrows at Lizzie as she moved back to the sofa so they were facing one another. “We dipped out for like fifteen minutes to his room, but not for that. It was only so he could apologize. Why are you acting like every time I’m with him, we’re sexin’ or something?”
“Because you’re obsessed with Brian,” Lizzie said, thrusting her lip out in a stubborn pout. “And I’m so over it.”
Mina scowled. “You’re over it. What does that mean?”
“That I’m sick of being the sidekick when Brian’s too busy or Jacinta’s with Raheem,” Lizzie snapped.
Mina’s jaw clenched. It worked itself loose as she spoke, her voice low and calm. “I know you’re upset about Todd, but don’t take it out on me.”
“Even if I did, you wouldn’t notice, Mina.” Lizzie rolled her eyes, and fres
h tears fell. “You don’t notice anything that doesn’t have to do with prom, Durham, or being with Brian.”
“That’s not fair,” Mina said. Her pout matched Lizzie’s.
Jacinta slid to the edge of the couch, making her body a shield between Mina and Lizzie. “Come on, y’all. Don’t fight.”
Kelly mirrored Jacinta’s movement so that the four of them were in a huddle. She patted Lizzie’s knee. “I agree with Cinny.” She tittered nervously. “That’s a first, huh?”
Lizzie went on, ignoring them. “Okay, if you answer this one question right, I’ll take back what I said.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she eyed Mina.
“What question?” Mina scowled before reining in her anger. She breathed in slowly through her nose and let it out, determined not to take the attack personally.
She had gone looking for Lizzie earlier. There’d been a whole flock of theatre uppers hanging out by Lila, the Bay Dra-da President. Lila’s bright strawberry-blond hair must have served as a beacon because nearly every theatre hound was gathered around her by the tiki bar. Mina hadn’t seen Lizzie, but she’d assumed she was in the mix somewhere. So she’d ended up near the basketball court talking to Sara, watching Brian and some other guys play ball.
She started to mention it, but decided against it—for once, exercising silence.
Finally, with tears leaking but her voice strong, Lizzie asked, “How did Kelly and Greg’s date go tonight?”
Mina squinted. “Huh?”
Kelly flinched slightly, her eyes darting from Lizzie to Mina.
“How did Kelly and Greg’s date go tonight?” Lizzie asked again. Her back straightened another half inch, and Mina caught the smug glint in her eye.
“Seriously?” Mina said. “Lizzie, how would I know? Kelly…”
“You’d know because we’re girls, Mina. We’re best friends.” Lizzie’s eyebrows rose. “We share everything, remember? The second it happens, we’re right there sharing.” Her back slumped as she leaned in. The sarcasm was thick as she snapped, “Right? So how did her date go?”