Just Another Girl

  I put on my best smile as I turn around to greet the customer, hoping they’re picking up an order. It’s Hope, holding her car keys. “Hey, I told Mom I’d pick you up.”

  “Oh.” I haven’t seen her since it was decided I’d be staying there. “That’s great. It’s still going to be a couple minutes. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.” She slides into a booth. “Take your time.”

  “Do you want a Cherry Coke? On the house!” It’s nice to finally offer her something, even if it’s more of a gesture than anything of real substance.

  She shakes her head. “If I have too much sugar before bed, I’ll never get to sleep.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. I’d be fooling myself if I thought this wouldn’t be an awkward situation, but Hope comes with Mrs. Kaplan. I’ll make the best out of it as I can. That’s all I’ve ever been able to do.

  I finish the rest of my closing duties in record time. “Okay to head out, boss?” I ask Peter.

  “Since when are you friends with that Kaplan girl?” His memory of that disastrous Valentine’s Day is about as fresh as mine.

  “Long story,” I reply. Then I realize that maybe it’s time for him to know the whole truth. “I’ll tell you all about it, the next time we’re slow.”

  “You take care,” he says with a nod.

  “I’m ready,” I declare to Hope, who’s busy typing into her phone. I wonder what she’s told Madelyn. Oh God, I didn’t think about the fact I’ll have to be around her as well. But maybe she’ll soften on me since I’ll be living with her best friend. Hope has seemed to. Not like she currently has a choice, but still.

  We walk out of the store with Peter locking the door behind us. “So …” I let that word hang in the air as I try to decide what exactly to say to Hope. “I can’t begin to even tell you how much this means to me. I’m really glad you called your mom and I hope it’s not too weird I’m staying with you. I’ll try not to get in the way. I appreciate the offer so much. Things have been really crazy. I know Brady told you some stuff and if you have any questions simply let me know. But needless to say, it hasn’t been a good year. Probably the understatement of the decade.” I’m talking so fast, not realizing how nervous I am until the words begin spewing from my mouth.

  Hope pauses in front of her car. I go to the other side, waiting for her to unlock the door, but she’s still. She finally looks at me. “I’m really sorry about how I’ve acted toward you.”

  There’s that sorry again. Although in Hope’s case, the apology is probably a little overdue.

  She goes on. “I had you all wrong. And it’s kind of made me look at myself differently and, well, I know I’ve been an entitled brat. I’ll try to be better.”

  “I really appreciate that. And you’ve done enough, believe me. Letting me into your house, well, it’s the kindest thing anybody’s done for me. Thank you.”

  Hope smiles at me, an actual genuine smile. I’ve seen her smile countless times, but never at me. She’s so pretty when she does. Her entire face lights up.

  “Okay, Parker.” She unlocks the car. “Let’s go home.”

  Home. It’s not my home. It never will be my home, but for the next little while I get to have a place to call home. A place where the door is open for me. Where I’m wanted.

  It’s such a simple thing to take for granted, until you’ve had it taken away from you.

  446 DAYS LEFT

  I’ve gone from living a nightmare to living in a dream.

  It’s been four nights since I started living with the Kaplans. Every morning when I wake up under a warm duvet in my own king-size bed, I think, This can’t be real life. I pad my feet over the plush carpeting in my bedroom to heated tile in my own bathroom, and come downstairs to find breakfast and, more important, a family waiting for me.

  I can’t believe people actually live like this.

  “Good morning, Parker!” Mrs. Kaplan greets me on Monday morning. “It’s breakfast burrito day. Do you want sausage or bacon in your burrito? Orange juice or cranberry juice?”

  “I can help myself,” I tell her, although it’s a losing battle. Mrs. Kaplan loves waiting on her family. It got to a point with Lila’s family where they would let me clear the dinner table and do the dishes. I wanted to somehow earn my keep, even though I can never repay the kindness that has been given to me.

  “Nonsense! You sit down. Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

  “Yes, a wonderful night’s sleep.” I’ve slept so much since I’ve been here. I’m making up for months of lost sleep. “Thanks again.”

  “Of course, hon.” Mrs. Kaplan puts a steaming burrito in front of me.

  “Good morning! How are my girls this morning?” Mr. Kaplan walks into the kitchen with a smile on his face as he kisses his wife on the cheek. I think it’s sweet how affectionate the Kaplans are toward each other. My parents never showed any affection—it was more like a business relationship than a loving marriage. I’d always assumed married couples that kiss and still love each other after all these years was fiction created to sell anniversary cards and romantic movies.

  Mr. Kaplan pours himself a big cup of coffee. It’s funny, now that I have unlimited access to caffeine, I don’t need it as much anymore. It’s amazing how much a good night’s sleep changes you.

  “Did you sleep well, Parker?” Mr. Kaplan asks.

  “Yes, thanks.” It’s so foreign to have people actually want to know about me. Of course, inquiring about my sleep is a pretty simple question, probably more of politeness than anything. However, it’s refreshing to be with people who do care. Who don’t ignore me.

  “Hope!” Mrs. Kaplan yells up the stairs. “Your breakfast is getting cold. Hurry up!”

  I’ll never understand why Hope basically has to be dragged down the stairs every morning. If this were my reality, I’d be on time for breakfast with my parents every day. Although, she doesn’t know any different. This attention is most likely seen as an inconvenience to her.

  If she only knew. But I think she does now. She hasn’t snapped at her mom since I’ve been here. She’s more thoughtful around me before she speaks. And she’s been really cool about me staying. It’s not as if we’ve become best friends, far from it, but she’s being civilized and that’s all I can ask for.

  “Morning,” Hope says as she rubs her eyes.

  I try not to laugh that she’s tired. She has no idea what tired is.

  “Morning!” I give her a smile. I’m not so embarrassed about my teeth anymore. At least I don’t feel like I have to hide myself, my real self, from Hope.

  “Sweetie, do you want a burrito, or only the insides? I can’t remember if you’re eating carbs this week.”

  Hope grimaces at her mom. “I’ll have the burrito.”

  “Fabulous!” She starts dishing out the eggs, cheese, bacon, salsa, and guacamole into a flour tortilla.

  This is what she does for a Monday morning. On Friday, my first morning, she made Belgian waffles with different toppings. This weekend, Mrs. Kaplan wanted to introduce me to the cuisine she grew up on and made a huge Mexican breakfast on Sunday with chilaquiles, huevos rancheros with spicy salsa, and pan dulce. I ate it all.

  It should come as no surprise that Mrs. Kaplan also makes delicious lunches for Hope and me to take to school. At first I declined, worried if I didn’t use my lunch subsidy it would be taken away from me. As much as I’m enjoying this time at the Kaplans’, it’s not forever. I’ll eventually move back with Hayley and need my security blankets.

  Fortunately, I’ll be able to go back on the program once I’m home. So for now, I get to take these wonderful lunches with me every day. I can’t even begin to say how much of a relief it is to know where my next meal is coming from. I haven’t had that in a year. It’s something so many of my friends don’t even think about—they have a family; they’ll get a meal.

  As much as I enjoy eating well and sleeping in a warm bed, I miss my real family, Hayley. I realize it’s
fairly ironic that now, when she’s not here, is when I really appreciate her.

  She’s only an hour away at a rehab facility. I can visit her next weekend. She’ll be out in a month. Upon her release, she has to get a stable job, fix up the trailer, and then the state will decide whether or not I’ll be able to return.

  I want to return. The trailer isn’t great, but it’s our home, for better or for worse. Hayley and I are still in this together. We can’t let Mom and Dad win.

  “Ready for your exam?” I ask Hope.

  She nods. “Yes, thanks for grilling me last night.”

  “Thank you,” I reply.

  I’d take saying thanks a million times over having to say or hear another sorry.

  Hope glances at the clock. “We should leave in five.” She takes another bite of her burrito before she heads back upstairs.

  I have everything ready. My school bag was packed before I went to bed last night. I’d gotten used to making quick exits in the morning.

  “Here’s your lunch, Parker.” Mrs. Kaplan hands me a bright, polka-dotted, insulated lunch bag. “On today’s menu: rotisserie-chicken-salad sandwich on focaccia, carrots and hummus, and a homemade brownie I whipped up last night.”

  “Sounds amazing.” I’m starting to look forward to lunch now. “Thanks again.”

  I have a huge grin on my face, probably the biggest I’ve had in a year. I’m so incredibly grateful. I’ve been dealt a crappy deck of cards, but I’m starting to think I’ll at least break even. For the first time since things with Hayley started to fall apart, there’s a chance I might get out of this mess.

  “Brady’s here!” Hope calls from the stairs.

  I put my jacket on, grab my school bag and lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan kiss Hope good-bye and Mrs. Kaplan gives me a hug. “Have a great day at school,” Mr. Kaplan says to us as we walk outside and get into Brady’s car.

  “Good morning,” Brady greets us as I get in the front seat, while Hope gets in the back.

  We did this Friday morning and again today. I don’t know why we never carpooled before, since Hope and Brady live so close together.

  Actually, I think I know why.

  “How was your morning?” Brady asks.

  “Great.”

  It really was. I haven’t had to tell a lie since I moved in with the Kaplans. The last couple of days have been amazing. I still have my routine of work and school, but now I get a new routine of a stable home and regular meals.

  Bit by bit, I feel my guard coming down.

  443 DAYS LEFT

  One benefit of having a real home and getting a good night’s sleep: more time for my friends.

  “I missed you this weekend,” Lila says to me Thursday after school as we grab a quick bite before she has practice and I have to work.

  “But now we can make actual weekend plans that don’t involve me mooching off your family,” I argue.

  “You were never a mooch,” Lila replies with a shake of her head. “I still can’t believe you’re living with Hope Kaplan.”

  “I know, but it’s been nice. She’s been nice. I think I was wrong about Hope.” I never disliked Hope, but I always knew she didn’t like me because of Brady. Therefore, I tried to stay away from her as much as possible. She never bothered to get to know the real me, same way I never tried to truly know her. She’s been mature enough to admit she was wrong about me and I’ll return that gesture by being understanding about where she was coming from. Besides, she’s more than made up for it now.

  “Has Madelyn been by yet?” Lila asks with a terrified look on her face.

  “No, Hope goes to her. I don’t know if Hope’s embarrassed by me or doesn’t want Madelyn near me, but all I know is I’m grateful I don’t have to have her glare at me in that house. I get it enough at school. The Kaplans’ house is my safe space.”

  “So,” Lila says as she sits up taller in her chair at the coffee shop. “Since you’re totally a regular teenager now.”

  “Yes, completely boring and drama free—it’s wonderful!”

  “We need to discuss another double date with Conor and Brady. This weekend? When are you working?”

  “I’m free Saturday night. I’ll check with Brady later.”

  “Things good with you guys?”

  “I think so. He was weird for a bit, but ever since I’ve been at the Kaplans’ things have returned to normal.”

  “You’re so, so normal now,” Lila teases. She finishes her latte, while I take a sip of my green tea, one of the cheapest things on the menu. Even though I don’t have to spend money on food now, I’m not going to waste it. I still have a long way to go to afford college, and the deductible for Hayley’s hospital and rehab stints has set me back a bit, but you can’t put a price on sisters. “Do you want me to drop you off at The Pie Shoppe?”

  “No, I don’t have to be there until five. Do you mind taking me to Hope’s? I need to get some homework done before work.”

  “Of course. Homework and work. How predictable your life has become.”

  It’s true and I absolutely love it.

  You get used to the circumstances you’ve been given. I never realized how much where I lived affected me. But it only takes me a fraction of the time to get my homework done when I’m in a quiet house.

  The only noise I hear when I’m working on calculus is a car pulling into the driveway and the front door opening. I figure it’s either Hope or her mom. I wait to finish the last couple of equations before I head downstairs to let whoever know I’m home.

  I lie down on the bed after I’m done to simply enjoy this moment. Homework is done. I’m going to work tonight. Things will be okay.

  After eating the rest of the apple I brought up, I take the plate with me as I start to walk downstairs. I pause every couple of seconds to dig my toes into the carpeting. I always wore shoes in the trailer. The floors were dirty and often sticky, no matter how many times I scrubbed the floor. Now I relish the feeling of the soles of my feet on such luxurious ground.

  Hope’s voice drifts up as I walk down the stairs. Then it gets quiet. Eerily quiet. I turn on the landing to see Hope on the couch with her arms around Brady.

  It takes a few moments to process what I’m seeing. But there they are. These best friends for years, in each other’s embrace.

  “I love you, you know that, right?” Brady says to Hope as I feel the wind get knocked out of me.

  “I love you, too.”

  A sob escapes my throat and they quickly let go of each other. Both looking shocked and incredibly guilty.

  “I didn’t know you were home,” Hope starts to explain right as Brady tells me, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  Then what is it?

  I’m in a haze as I run back upstairs, shove my feet into shoes, and grab my things. Being prepared for a quick escape has come in handy once again.

  “Parker,” Hope says as she starts climbing the stairs while I zip past her. “You’ve got this all wrong.”

  “Do I?” I don’t realize how on edge I am until I hear my completely unhinged voice. “All I know is you’ve wanted Brady for years, and now you have him. So congratulations, Hope, you have everything. And don’t you love rubbing it in my face? That’s why you wanted me here. To remind me of everything I don’t have.”

  “Babe.” Brady grabs my arm, but I pull it away. “Listen to me.”

  “No!” I yell. I’ve never yelled at him before, but I can’t do this anymore. “I don’t want to hear it, Brady. I don’t need to have explained to me what my eyes have seen.”

  I race out of the house and start running. I hear my name being called out by both Brady and Hope, but I don’t want to listen to what they have to say. After a few blocks, I take a side street, hoping they won’t try to come find me. I need to be left alone. I need to think this through.

  This is what I get for letting my guard down: a giant knife in my back. This was Hope’s plan all along.

  I finally calm down
long enough to leave Lila a message on her phone. She’s all I have left or it’s foster care. I can’t go back to the Kaplans’ or to Brady’s. Hayley’s in rehab.

  I knew Hope’s place was a temporary fix, but I had duped myself into thinking everything was going to work out.

  It’s time I finally accept the truth:

  No matter how much I work, no matter what I do, nothing will ever be okay.

  It’s hard to keep a secret in a small town.

  I should know. I’ve been keeping plenty of secrets, which totally sucks. Yeah, there’s Parker’s big secret, but I’ve got my own.

  Here’s one: I’m a horrible person. I know on the outside it looks like I’m this doting, caring boyfriend. At least that’s how I try to be. I have to remind myself all the time to do what should come natural when you’re The Good Boyfriend: hold hands, touch, kiss, spoil her on holidays. I even call Parker babe to remind me of what we’re supposed to be.

  But what we’re supposed to be … it’s not what we really are. And it feels like my job is to make sure Parker doesn’t realize that. She’s had to deal with so much crap already—the last thing she needs is to deal with mine.

  It just sucks. All of it. I try to not get annoyed at Parker about how I can’t have a normal senior year. It’s not her fault—of course it isn’t. But I busted my butt all through high school to get good grades. I finally got accepted to Purdue, so I should be able to take it relatively easy, but I can’t. I’m worrying all the time. I need to be there for her if anything goes wrong, and stuff always goes wrong.

  I was completely clueless about how bad things got with Hayley. And here I didn’t think I could feel any worse about everything she’s going through. When all I want is … well, it doesn’t matter what I want.

  Every time I hear someone in my class talk about senior parties or skipping class, I become jealous. I have to worry about whether or not my girlfriend has enough to eat or if she needs to stay over. I know most guys think I’m this huge stud for having her spend the night, but it’s not like that. Nothing is like it seems.

  Then there’s Hope.