Darcy, Defined

by Suzanne Williams

  Feminist (Hell yeah!)

  Wanna be Climate Activist (If only I had more time)

  Social Media Influencer (yeah right ha ha ha)

  I knew I still had some time to iron things out, but I just didn’t think that any of the items on my list (the ones that actually applied to me) were going to lead in the direction I wanted my essay to go. If only I were an elite athlete; I could define myself as captain and leader of the state champ girls’ soccer team, or a math genius or the daughter of a CEO who could travel the world serving humanity.

  But, I’m not those things. I’m Darcy Walsh, average high school student, cleaner at East Point Prep. Maybe better days were on the horizon, days when I’d be able to confidently define myself and claim my identity, but waiting for them felt like waiting for a downpour during a drought. I needed it to rain, and soon.

  Chapter 4

  On Saturday morning I woke up around 9 and went into the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of generic honey and nut O-shaped cereal. My mom was in her scrubs, pouring coffee into her travel mug in preparation for her weekend shift.

  “Any big plans today?” she asked me.

  “Maya wants to go to the mall. And we’re both going to a friend’s house later.”

  “Oh. Which friend is that?” My mom tried to sound nonchalant, but I could tell she was excited to hear about the possibility of a new friend.

  “Her name is Paige, but it’s not a big deal. It might be just a one-time thing.”

  “Well big thing or small thing, I hope you’ll have fun. What time are you going?”

  “Around 8,” I said, crunching my cereal.

  “I should be home by 7 today, so just let me know if you need a ride.”

  “Maya’s driving, but thank you.”

  My mom kissed my head. “I’m off to work. I’ll see you later. Eat a good lunch. No junk food unless you eat something healthy first.”

  “I know. I know. Have a good day at work.”

  I took my bowl to the sink and plopped down on the couch in the adjacent living room. I found the TV remote under a cushion and scrolled through the Netflix offerings. The Perfect Date, Everything, Everything, The Edge of Seventeen, Alex Strangelove. I’d already seen them all, which probably meant I was watching too much TV. I turned it off and entertained the idea of idea of getting out my schoolwork when Maya texted me.

  I’m up. Ready to go to the mall?

  Give me 20 min to get dressed, I replied.

  OK. C U in 20

  I went to my room and changed into a pair of black leggings and my mom’s old MTV tee-shirt that she’d given me, along with a slew of 90s band shirts. “I’m too old for them now,” she had said, and I took them happily. The Nirvana one I had given to Maya, since she was more into the classic rock than I was. It felt good to own something vintage that was actually considered cool by my peers.

  After I was dressed, I combed my hair back into a ponytail and went out to the front porch to wait for Maya. She arrived a minute or two later, the windows of her 2010 Honda Civic down, a punk song with unintelligible lyrics blaring from the speakers. Riding with Maya, who had had her driver’s license for three months, was always an adventure.

  “When are you getting your license?” she asked as she backed out of my driveway and headed for the STOP sign at the end of the street, taking the speed hump a little harder than she should have.

  “What? Don’t you enjoy the pleasure of my company in the car with you?” I said.

  “Of course! But at some point, you might actually want to go somewhere without me.”

  “Nah,” I said. “Plus, my mom mentioned something about trying to get me a car as a graduation gift, so I’ll probably wait until then.”

  Maya shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

  She flew over another speed hump. “Sorry! I totally didn’t see that one.”

  “Maybe I should get my license now. I’ll just drive you around in your car so you don’t wreck it.”

  She jabbed me in the arm with her elbow. “Maybe that’s actually a good idea, though.”

  When we got to the mall, Maya pulled into a spot right in front of Nordstrom. “You ready?” she asked, as we got out of the car. “My parents actually gave me money. I might be able to buy an entire outfit.”

  “I’ll help you shop, but I’m not getting anything. Unless you want to buy me a present.”

  “The outfit you have on now looks cute. You should wear that tonight.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or I might raid my mom’s closet. She has some decent blouses.”

  Once inside Nordstrom, I followed Maya to the junior’s department, a maze of mannequins, sparkly accessories, and racks of black, white and pale pink clothing. I found a large pillar to lean on while Maya rummaged through the sweaters.

  “You do know it’s still eighty-five degrees out, right?” I said.

  “Yeah, but they’re cute. And I don’t look good in anything sleeveless. My arms are too fat.”

  “Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes, even though she wasn’t looking.

  “Did I tell you Harry has a girlfriend?”

  “No,” I said, a pang of jealousy hitting me. I’d always thought Harry was cute, but knew I didn’t have a chance of dating my best friend’s older brother, so I tried my best to conceal my crush (I was far more interested in Matt Holmes, anyway).

  “Yeah, she came to our house for dinner last night. She’s also from Cincy, so they both came back this weekend. She’s nice, but I have to say, I think he can do better in the looks department.”

  “You do know there’s more to people than looks, right? Maybe he admires her personality and intellect.”

  “Maybe, but she hardly talked so it’s hard to say.”

  “I bet she was just nervous. It must be intimidating, meeting your boyfriend’s family for the first time. Not that I’ll ever experience it.”

  “You will. Trust me. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be Matt’s family you’ll be meeting soon.”

  “SHHH,” I said dramatically, throwing a crumbled-up receipt from my purse at her. “What if someone from our school is here?”

  Maya and I both looked around. “I think it’s safe. We’re the only ones here.”

  “And what about you meeting Nick Gentile’s family,” I whispered.

  Maya waved her hand dismissively. “It’ll be a miracle if we ever get to that phase. And I mean a miracle for him.”

  Over the summer, both Maya and Nick had volunteered in a kid’s drama camp that was held at our school. At the end of the camp session, Nick had written a love letter to Maya, complimenting her beauty and charm and professing his “deep affection” for her. She was thrilled, and thought it could be the start of a relationship, but the romance fizzled as quickly as it had begun, with Nick basically ghosting Maya a week after the camp ended. When she told me that he hadn’t returned her last few calls or texts, I went to her house and hugged her while she cried on her bed. Then we watched Netflix and ate candy and by the end of the night she said she was over it.

  But on the second day of school we saw him in the cafeteria. He came over to our table and gave Maya a hug. He apologized for ignoring her calls, and said that he had felt overwhelmed, and unsure if he could be a good boyfriend to her. Then he promised to call her that night, which he did. She said she’d taken the call, but made it brief, letting him know she was busy with homework. “If he wants to be my boyfriend now, he’s going to have to try a lot harder. One call isn’t going to do it,” she’d said the next day.

  She pulled a tiny silver dress from a rack and held it up to her body. “Too sexy?” she asked.

  “Is there such a thing?” I said. We both laughed, and she hung it back on the rack.

  After what seemed like hours, she settled on a pair of dark grey leggings with sheer stripes down the sides and a cream-colored, velvet top. “Now I just need shoes,” she said.

  “I need nourishment first,” I said.

  We made our way to
ward the food court. I had exactly ten dollars in my purse, which was enough to buy a burrito from Chipotle, but I also loved the peanut butter smoothies from Fresh Stop. I knew I could only choose one, and Chipotle seemed like a better choice, considering all of the major food groups would be represented in one meal.

  I met Maya at a table after buying my burrito, where she was already halfway through an Auntie Ann’s pretzel. I checked the time. It was 12:10. I was beginning to feel nervous about the upcoming party. Would Maya and I fit in? Would all of Paige’s friends wonder why we were there? Was there even any point in showing up? Of course there is, I told myself. You deserved to be invited. You deserve to have fun. You’ve earned this!

  “So, here’s the plan,” I said to Maya between bites. “Paige’s parents told her that she could have a couple of friends over while they were gone so she wouldn’t be alone in the house, but she’s not allowed to have a party. That means the way we come and go will be important, so we don’t get her in trouble.” I took a colossal bite of my burrito and chewed quickly to continue with the instructions. “They have one of those fancy doorbells with a camera, so we cannot go in or out through the front door. There’s also a security camera above the backdoor that faces the backyard, so we can’t go that way either.”

  “Geez,” said Maya. “What is this, Ocean’s Eleven?”

  “You know how rich people are with their security. Anyway, there’s a side door on the East side of the house, or the right side if you’re facing the front, that has no camera. We can only go in and out through that one door, and we can only approach the house from that side.”

  “Ok, that seems easy enough. Do they have cameras inside?”

  “Paige knows that there’s one in her dad’s office, which will be locked anyway, and one in the front entryway, but we should be fine in the kitchen and the back part of the house.”

  “This is exciting. I hope no one gets too drunk and forgets all the rules.”

  I shrugged. “It won’t be me, or you. I’ll make sure of that.”

  After we finished eating, Maya bought a pair of black, suede, ankle boots to complete her outfit, then we headed back to her car for the ride home.

  “What are you going to write about for the defining yourself essay?” I asked as Maya navigated the system of exiting the mall parking lot, using my fingers as air quotes when I said defining yourself.

  “What?” she asked, sounding distracted.

  “You know, the essay for Ms. Rose.”

  “Oh yeah. Um, I’ll probably go with theater, since I did the drama camp and was in Midsummer last year, and I’m getting involved with the Drama Club this year, so that should give me enough to write about. What about you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, leaning my head against the window. “I don’t do anything interesting.”

  “What do you mean?” said Maya, slowly rolling through a STOP sign, without coming to a complete stop. “You clean the school every day so that you can get an education at a private school that you wouldn’t otherwise be able to attend. Colleges love that stuff.”

  “I guess,” I said. I knew she was probably right, but still, I knew it wasn’t going to cut it for me. But if cleaning wasn’t a compelling enough topic, what else was there? The answer remained elusive. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the rain and accept the reality of the drought.

  Chapter 5

  Later that evening, after eating Indian food in front of the TV with my mom, I went to her bedroom closet and began assessing her more elegant blouses and tunics.

  “Mom, can I wear one of your tops?” I yelled to her. She was still on the couch, drinking wine and watching Unsolved Mysteries.

  “Be my guest,” she answered.

  I decided on a brown peasant top that I’d only ever seen her wear once. I got dressed, put on a pair of beige sandals that my mom had bought me over the summer, and applied a light layer of black eyeliner and mascara. When I was ready, I headed back out to the living room.

  “Wow. You look great,” said my mom. “You should just keep that top. It suits you much better than me.”

  “Thanks,” I said, sitting down on the couch. Seeing her there with her wine and the TV remote, I suddenly felt guilty for making plans for the night. “I’m sorry for ditching the house tonight. You won’t feel lonely, will you?”

  She smiled and paused her show. “I won’t be lonely,” she said. “I like having you in the house at night because I know where you are and I know you’re safe, but I also want you to have fun and enjoy being a teenager. You work hard. I think it’s good that you’re letting loose a little.” She put her hand on my knee, and I leaned in to give her a hug. It wasn’t the first time I’d left the house on a Saturday night, but it was the first time I’d gone out on a Saturday night without needing my mom to give me a ride to my destination, which was usually just Maya’s house. I felt relief that she seemed so comfortable with my first big teenage outing.

  I got up when I heard the sound of Maya’s car pulling into our driveway. “Go have fun,” she said. “If I don’t hear from you by mid-night, I’m calling a search party.”

  “Ok,” I said as I stood up to leave. It was the first time I had been given, or needed, any kind of a curfew, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to break it.

  Paige’s house is in Indian Hill, the most affluent suburb of the city, one that neither Maya or I had ever had occasion to visit.

  “These houses are crazy big,” said Maya as she turned onto Paige’s street.

  “I know,” I said, ogling the mansions and their immaculate lawns. Just ahead I saw a row of parked cars. “I think we’re getting close to Paige’s house. Park behind these cars here.”

  As we got out of the car and walked toward the massive, brick estate that was Paige’s house, I noticed Matt Holmes’ silver Audi parked a few cars ahead of Maya’s, which meant he was already there. I felt my stomach somersault. “Maya,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Maybe we should just go see a movie instead.”

  “Why?” she asked. Then she saw the look on my face, and the car I was staring at. “Oh, are you nervous?”

  “A little,” I said. That’s when I decided to tell her the truth about how I got us invited, including the part about her supposed crush on Tristan Ivanov, at which she rolled her eyes. “What if everyone makes fun of me,” I said. “What if Paige told everyone about how I’m only coming so I can help her clean? What if I try to talk to Matt, which was basically the whole purpose of doing this, and he flat out rejects me in front of all the most popular kids. I’ll never be able to go back to school if that happens.”

  “That won’t happen,” said Maya, squeezing my hand. “And if it does, I won’t go back to school either. We’ll just do homeschool together, which will be way more chill anyway.”

  I laughed. Maya always knew how to ease my anxieties. “Ok,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  As we approached the house, we cut through the grass to go in through the side door. It was just starting to get dark, and as we neared the rose bushes on the side of the house, motion lights turned on, which made Maya jump. “It’s ok,” I said. We took a few more steps, Maya nervously looking around. “Should we knock or just go in,” I said once we were standing at the door.

  “I don’t know,” said Maya. “Do you hear anything?”

  I held my ear up to the door. Silence. “No,” I said.

  “Maybe everyone’s on the other side of the house. Paige probably won’t hear if we knock. Let’s just see if it’s open.”

  I slowly turned the knob, slightly worried that this whole thing was a prank and that I would set off an alarm and get us both arrested for breaking and entering. But the door opened, and no alarm went off, so I continued pushing it and slowly stepped inside, with Maya just behind me. We stood in what looked like a smaller version of the castle library in the Disney rendition of Beauty and the Beast. There was a cozy reading nook to the right, a fireplace to the left, and rows of books all around, co
mplete with a sliding ladder. Straight ahead was an open door that led to the rest of the house. As we walked through the library, I began to hear sounds of music and laughter. “Here we go,” I said, taking in a deep breath.

  We stepped out into a hallway. We could either go left or right, and I knew we needed to go right to avoid the camera in the front entranceway. I tugged on Maya’s hand to lead her to the right toward the dining room and very large kitchen, which was already cluttered with red Solo cups and various kinds of beer cans and bottles. In the kitchen, Tristan was cracking open a Miller Lite. “Whoa,” he said. “The hot cleaning girl and the cute rocker chick. Right on.”

  Maya and I looked at each other. She rolled her eyes so hard they practically fell back into her face. “Where’s Paige?” I asked.

  “Back there,” he said, gesturing toward the adjoining room with his head. “You ladies want a beer?”

  “No thanks,” said Maya, sharply. We walked around the other side of the large island to avoid getting too close to him and walked toward the doorway that led to the other room.

  “Darcy! Maya! Come on in,” said Paige. She was sitting on a luxurious looking leather sectional, snuggled up to her new boyfriend, whose name I’d learned was Tom. Next to them were Audrey and Ava, who looked up and smiled faintly but didn’t say hello. They were both looking at something on Ava’s phone, smirking. A song by a sultry-sounding, female singer that I vaguely recognized was playing through surround-sound speakers. “Hey,” I said. I looked at Maya, unsure of what to do and hoping to follow her lead. “Sam brought wine coolers for the ladies,” said Paige, breaking the ice. “They’re really good. Do you guys want one?”

  “Sure! That sounds awesome!” said Maya.

  Paige stood up and walked into the kitchen, then came back with three bottles of a pinkish, red substance with a palm trees on the labels. “Cheers,” she said after handing us our bottles, and we all clinked the tops together. I took a small sip and was surprised by how sweet it tasted, the alcohol nearly impossible to detect. I looked over at Maya, who was gulping hers down like a marathon-runner hydrating after a race. “Slow down,” I said under my breath, nudging her with my elbow.