Most Likely

by Sarah Watson

  If she told him the truth, it would ruin everything.

  “Jordan? Is something wrong?”

  “1558 Bader Court!” She blurted it out so forcefully that she almost felt like she should apologize. It was Martha’s address. “1558 Bader Court,” she repeated. This time more calmly.

  He plugged it into his GPS. “On our way.”

  Martha watched with a bit of awe as Victoria carefully placed a gummy bear onto a stack that was already seven gummies high. Victoria pulled her hand back, careful not to let the charm on her bracelet knock the whole thing over. When it successfully held, she shouted out in her strange hybrid accent, “Boom, bitch!”

  Martha was stunned. “That’s not even architecturally possible. I think that actually violates the laws of physics.”

  “And yet there it is. Your turn.”

  The game was Victoria’s invention. A way to combat the boredom of a slow evening. Martha took a fresh gummy bear out of the pack, licked it, and approached the tower slowly.

  “Hey, can I ask you something?” Victoria said.

  “Not if you’re doing it to try to distract me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Martha didn’t turn away from the tower. “I told you. I misread the schedule. So stupid, right?”

  “Did you really?”

  Martha felt her cheeks go warm. She stuck the gummy bear and backed away. “Your turn.”

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Victoria said. “I’m glad you’re here. I was just wondering if you were avoiding home for some reason.”

  “Oh,” Martha said. “No. Nothing like that.”

  Martha watched Victoria take another gummy bear from the bag. She liked that Victoria wanted to talk about real things. “I love my home,” Martha said. “It’s just me and my dad, and we get along really well. Which is good, since I’m probably just going to go to Cleveland State next year.”

  “Really? I thought you wanted to go to MIT.”

  Martha had brought up MIT only once. Victoria was such a good listener.

  “I mean, it’s one of the best engineering schools. And Boston seems cool. I’m just not sure it would be worth it. If I go to Cleveland State, I can probably graduate debt free. Or close to it. I mean, why wouldn’t I do that? The idea of all that debt. And leaving my dad. It’s all so… terrifying.” That final word just sort of slipped out. She hadn’t meant to admit she was scared. Victoria stepped away from the stack to look at her.

  “Can I say something?” Victoria asked.

  Martha nodded.

  “Do the thing that scares you. The best things in my life have happened when I’ve been scared.”

  She turned back to the stack and delicately lowered the bear. Victoria held her breath as the tower wobbled, then settled. Martha held hers too. “Your turn,” Victoria said.

  “Like what?” Martha asked. “What have you done that’s scared you?”

  Victoria smiled. “Oh, like telling someone I wanted to kiss them when I wasn’t sure if they wanted to kiss me back.”

  “And…” Martha asked. “Did they?”

  Victoria laughed. “One time, yes. Another time, I got my heart broken. But I’m still glad I told the truth.”

  Martha noticed that Victoria didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid to make eye contact. But Martha was. Flustered, she took her phone out of her pocket and cycled through all the usual distracting apps. She found a text that Jordan had sent earlier in the evening. Her face must have shifted when she read it because Victoria asked her if everything was okay.

  “Yeah,” Martha said. Jordan had texted to say that the park might not be dead after all.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Victoria asked.

  Martha slid her phone into her back pocket. “Yeah. It’s good news.”

  “Then why do you look…”

  Martha sighed. “Because my friend is at this big-deal meeting. Trying to change the world.” Martha gave a self-deprecating smile. “And I’m here. Building a tower made of movie-theater snacks.”

  “You say that like this is just any old tower,” Victoria said. “I think we might be eligible for a world record.”

  Martha smiled. At least that would be one way to leave her mark on the world. She knew it was stupid, but she still cared about carving her name into that jungle gym. Martha pulled a gummy out of the bag and licked it.

  “You’ve got this,” Victoria said. “For the world-record books. We’ll be remembered together.”

  Right as Martha lowered her bear, her phone chimed from her pocket. Martha groaned. “If I move my hand, it’s going to fall.”

  “Then we won’t be in the record book. No pressure.”

  Martha mustered all of her focus. Her phone chimed again. Martha ignored it. She steadied her hand. Her phone chimed again. And again. Martha tried not to let it fluster her.

  “Here,” Victoria said. “I’ll get it for you.”

  Victoria slid up behind Martha, and as gingerly as she’d lowered the gummy bear, she slid her hand into Martha’s back pocket. Martha felt her body go rigid as Victoria carefully slid the phone—and her hand—up the length of Martha’s butt. Martha longed to turn around. She wanted to slide her hand into Victoria’s, and she wanted to tell her all her secrets.

  Victoria pulled the phone out and looked at it. “It’s your friend Jordan.”

  “Ignore it.” Martha was going to let the tower topple. She was going to turn around, and she was going to ask Victoria if she was feeling the same thing Martha was. “I don’t care about the park right now.”

  “Uh, it’s not about the park,” Victoria said. “I think you’d better look at this.”

  Scott put his blinker on and turned onto the freeway. Jordan typed a series of frantic texts to Martha.

  Are you home?

  Please tell me you’re home.

  It’s a long story. I need you to pretend to be my roommate.

  She knew Scott would insist on walking her to her door. He was that kind of guy. And she kind of wanted him to. She knew what it would mean if he offered.

  WHERE. ARE. YOU?

  Scott followed his GPS. It was a twenty-minute drive, and they chatted the entire time. Jordan kept a steady eye on her phone. There still wasn’t anything from Martha when he pulled up to the curb.

  “Well,” Jordan said, “this is me.”

  Scott glanced up at her building, then at her. “I’d better walk you to your door.”

  Jordan tried to imagine what would happen when they got there. How would she explain that she didn’t have keys? She could knock. No, she couldn’t. Martha’s dad might answer. Now that he was working more normal hours, he was usually home at night.

  “It’s okay,” Jordan said. “You don’t have to. Thanks for the ride.”

  Jordan climbed out of the car and Scott did the same. “Jordan. I know the crime stats for this neighborhood. I’m walking you to your door.”

  She looked at him, and he misread the hesitation on her face.

  “I hope that didn’t come across as rude,” he said. “I don’t exactly live in a palace either.” He eyed Martha’s building. The one he thought was hers. “This is nicer than mine and I can barely afford my rent.”

  Jordan wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “First apartments,” she said. “Am I right?”

  Scott laughed. “Exactly. I think it’s like a requirement to have a place like this when you’re in your twenties. If we’re still living in shitholes when we’re thirty, then we can worry.”

  They both turned when they heard footsteps.

  “Hey, roomie,” said Martha as she walked up to them. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d overheard them talking or not. “You just getting home too?” Jordan gave Martha a complicated look, imploring her not to ruin this and apologizing all at the same time. Martha turned to Scott. “Hi. I’m Martha. Jordan’s roommate.”

  He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Thanks for getting her h
ome,” Martha said. “I got it from here. We always walk together at night. You can never be too safe in these shithole neighborhoods.” Jordan laughed awkwardly. Martha turned to her and destroyed her with her gaze. “First apartments, am I right?”

  She’d heard it. She’d heard everything. Jordan felt awful. Worse than awful. She barely looked back at Scott. “Thanks for… everything. Good night.”

  “Night, Jordan,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Martha.”

  Martha’s voice brimmed with anger and hurt. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  Jordan waited until Scott drove away from the curb to say something to Martha. “I am so sorry. So incredibly, deeply sorry.”

  Martha shrugged. “Forget it,” she said, voice cool. “I’m sure it was worth making fun of my home to save the park.” She looked at Scott’s car driving away and then back at Jordan. “Because this is all about saving the park, right?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  AVA SAT on the bleachers between Jordan and Martha, and felt the stiffness radiating from each of them. It was the final football game of the season and the first real snow of the year. The whole athletic field was speckled in white. The girls didn’t usually go to football games—CJ was the only sports fan—but this was the last game of the season. It was the last game of their entire high school experience. So they wrapped themselves up in maroon-and-gold scarves, huddled in the stands under blankets, and kept their hands warm with paper cups of hot chocolate.

  The football team must have done something good because the cheerleaders suddenly started high kicking and waving their gloved fingers in the air. Jordan clapped and shouted onto the field, “Go Bears!” Then she leaned over Ava and touched a gloved finger to Martha’s arm. “This is fun.” She was trying so hard to make everything feel normal. “I wish we’d gone to more games when we had the chance.”

  “Do you even know who’s winning?” Martha asked.

  “Not a clue,” said Jordan. “But that’s not the point. It’s nice to be here together.”

  “Well, we’re getting our asses kicked,” Martha said. “How much longer are we going to stay here? I have to go to work soon. You know, because I’m poor.”

  Ava and CJ traded a tense look as Jordan turned to Martha.

  “I’m sorry,” Jordan said. “I’ve said I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say—”

  CJ’s phone chimed, and she used it as an excuse to cut Jordan off. “Help,” she said. She shoved her phone into Jordan’s face. Jordan was the only one wearing gloves with sensor pads on the fingers. Jordan used her index finger to unlock CJ’s phone. She knew the code because they all used the same one. 0809. August ninth. The day they’d met in the park.

  The text message popped up and Jordan gasped. “Clarke Josephine Jacobson,” she said. “Why is Wyatt No Last Name Provided sending you a dick pic?”

  There was a mother with young children sitting in front of them, and she turned around and shot CJ a look. “I’m so sorry,” CJ said to the mom. “It’s not actually a… you know. It’s a vase.”

  The mother turned back to her kids, and Martha and Ava both leaned over to see CJ’s phone. Wyatt had sent her a picture of a bulbous piece of pottery.

  “It’s an inside joke,” CJ said defensively. “His mom makes these vases.”

  “Nope,” said Martha. “There is no way that’s a vase. That is definitely a penis.”

  The mother whirled around again. “Hi,” Martha said casually. “How’s it going? Enjoying the game?” The mom gave an annoyed warning glance before turning back to her kids.

  CJ shrank down, looking mortified. “Please kill me now.”

  Ava laughed. Even though CJ really did look like she wanted to die, she was also smiling. “You and Wyatt certainly have a lot of inside jokes,” Ava said, teasing.

  CJ talked about Wyatt all the time. She told funny stories about him that weren’t even really that funny. She found ways to bring up his name.

  “Anyway.” Martha said, “I really do have to go.”

  CJ put her phone away. “Okay. How about we meet you at the theater after the game? We still need to figure out our next move on the park.”

  They were encouraged by what the mayor had said. CJ felt that now was the time to make a push. Ava agreed. They just didn’t know what that push should be. Jordan was reluctant to publish anything. She didn’t want to out herself as a high school student. Ava didn’t really understand why that mattered.

  “What’s there to talk about?” Martha said. “If Jordan doesn’t want to do anything…”

  Jordan stiffened. “I do want to do something. I just don’t think publishing a boring article will solve anything.”

  “Then don’t write it boring,” Martha said.

  “You know what I mean. It’s not worth burning my source yet.”

  Martha rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever.”

  “No. Don’t keep saying ‘whatever.’ If you want to yell at me, then yell at me.”

  “Okay,” Martha said. “I’ll yell. No. I’ll say it calmly. Who cares about your dumb source? Scott’s a jerk.”

  Jordan brushed the snow away from her eyelashes. “He’s not a jerk. He’s been incredibly helpful. He gave me the scoop on that meeting because—”

  “Because he wants to get in your pants!” Martha shouted. “He just wants to sleep with you.”

  The mother whirled around again. Just as Jordan opened her mouth to say something, CJ stepped in. “Yep. You’re right,” she said to the mother. “We’re taking this out of the stands. Ladies.”

  CJ stood and so did Ava. Jordan crossed her arms. “No. I’m staying. We came to see the last McKinley High School football game we’ll ever see. I’m not missing it.”

  Martha got up. “Great. Let me know if you figure out which side is ours.”

  She stormed out of the stands. CJ looked down at Jordan. “Come on. Let’s all go talk about this.”

  Jordan crossed her arms even tighter. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Ava turned to her. “Come on, Jordan. Please.”

  Jordan shook her head. “I’m staying.”

  Ava and CJ gave her a minute to change her mind. When it was obvious that Jordan wasn’t budging, they walked off to find Martha. Ava looked back once. Jordan sat with her arms folded, letting the snow fall on top of her.

  Martha descended the city bus stairs, headed for the movie theater. She stepped onto the street and right into a hidden puddle. She was already mad at Scott and mad at the world and now she was mad at the puddle too. She wanted to be mad at Jordan, but the truth was, she wasn’t. She was just hurt. She wished Jordan could understand how awful it had felt. To be sized up and disregarded like that. For something totally beyond her control. Martha stopped. She squeezed water out of the cuff of her jeans and felt like an asshole. Because of course Jordan knew what that was like. She knew it better than any of them. Martha went back to being mad at the world. And Scott.

  When she reached the theater, she tugged the door open. She felt a rush of warm air and then a rush of relief when she saw Victoria. Martha wondered if Victoria would know right away that something was wrong. Probably. Maybe she’d even hug her again. Martha hoped so.

  But Victoria wasn’t alone. She sat at one of the concession tables with Logan Diffenderfer. They appeared to be deep in conversation.

  “Hey,” Martha said.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Victoria.

  A minute ago, Martha had felt desperate for Victoria to say those words. Now she only shrugged. “Nothing.” She took her coat off and stomped the snow out of her boots, making a pile by the door.

  “You sure?” Logan asked. “You seem…”

  “I seem what, Diffenderfer?” Martha asked defensively.

  He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay. I was just asking.” He turned to Victoria. “Anyway, I should go in. I don’t want to miss the beginning. Seriously, though. Check out Blue Velvet. It’s weird, but I think you’
ll like it.”

  Victoria nodded. “I’ll add it to my list.”

  As Logan ducked into the theater, Martha walked behind the concession stand and shoved her damp coat into one of the cupboards. She kicked the door closed with a bang.

  “Seriously,” Victoria said. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine. You can join Logan if you want. I can take care of the concession stand. You guys can keep talking about movies. Or whatever.” She’d been saying “whatever” a lot tonight.

  Victoria leaned across the counter. “I don’t want to watch the movie. I want to know why you’re being weird.”

  Martha didn’t even know where to begin. The fight with Jordan wasn’t what was bothering her. Not really. She knew that part would get resolved. She didn’t doubt that Jordan was sorry. She was sorry too. For picking and picking and not letting it go. She knew those feelings would eventually fade away. A year from now, neither of them would even remember it. Jordan would probably be at Northwestern in her dorm room or at the campus newspaper office, and it would be just an insignificant thing that happened to her in high school. Martha wondered where she’d be. Probably right here, in this exact spot, stomping her boots out onto the same carpet and shoving her coat into the same cupboard. “Have you ever felt… I don’t know… not worthy?”

  Victoria nodded gently. “Of course. Everyone has.”

  Martha never cared that she didn’t grow up with money. She was proud of her dad and how hard he worked. She loved the tiny apartment with the gray carpeting. That’s why what Jordan said had hurt so much. When Scott, with his preppy button-downs and his idealistic job, had insulted her home, Jordan didn’t stand up for her. She didn’t tell him that he had absolutely no idea how hard it is when plants close, and production moves overseas, and life as you know it gets ripped out from under you. Scott didn’t understand the price of progress.

  “You are, though,” Victoria said. “You are worthy. I don’t know who made you feel like you’re not. But they’re wrong.”