Nicole holds the flashlight over me, because the streetlamps are too far away to see here. When she starts filling in his name, she puts the flashlight on the ground and angles it so we can both see. At first it’s hard to keep the letters straight, but then I get the hang of it.
An old guy walking his minuscule dog stops to see what we’re doing.
“We go here,” Nicole tells him. “It’s for a project.”
“Oh,” he gravels in his deep voice. “How nice.”
I keep writing. Nicole keeps coloring.
A few minutes later, I look over my shoulder to make sure he’s gone. But he’s still there. Watching. As if this is performance art or something.
I’m like, “But it’s not done and . . . we’re not allowed to have anyone see it yet.”
“Oh,” he says. “Well, I guess I’ll have to wait till tomorrow, then.”
“Pretty much,” Nicole goes. “Sorry.”
“Come on, Bear,” he tells his dog. The dog’s paws click away on the sidewalk, fading out.
I imagine what tomorrow morning will be like. The knots in my stomach tighten. What will everyone say? What will Steve tell everyone? Will he try to find out what it means before he comes to find me? Or will he come right up to me and say he’s sorry for everything and he doesn’t know what he was thinking and can I ever forgive him for being such an idiot?
When we’re done, we look over our work. It says:Steve-
My chemosensory organ occludes your phenethyl alcohol.
Love, Me
Not even Steve will know what it means at first. But he’ll know who it’s from. And it will be the perfect way to make him see that I can do unexpected things. Because there’s no way that anyone would expect something like this.
Tomorrow will probably be the most humiliating day of my life. But when it’s over, Steve and I will be back together. And that makes everything worth it.
NICOLE CHAPTER 5
Saturday
SO HERE’S WHAT happened.
Danny was my boyfriend. He was sweet and funny and cute and he totally adored me. And that’s why I had to break up with him.
I’m the kind of girl who gets noticed all the time. Which you’d realize is so ironic if you knew me, because I’d rather be the one watching than the one being watched. But the reason I get noticed is because supposedly I have this in-your-face wild-style thing going on, even though I don’t think there’s anything wild about it. Just your average graphic tanks and spiked belts and cropped vintage tees and funky jewelry and fishnets with combat boots, that sort of thing. Oh, and I have a nose ring, but technically it’s just this small diamond stud that you can hardly see unless you get really close to me. Which I don’t exactly invite a lot of people to do.
So most people assume I’m wild like my style, which isn’t even that wild in the first place (like, hello, it’s called the East Village, you might want to check it out sometime), but I’m really not. Just because a person chooses to express themselves in an extreme way doesn’t mean they have an extreme personality. I’m just making a statement. It’s not some rage against the machine, down with the man type deal. Plus, it’s this whole new thing with me. I just put my wardrobe together last September and came back to school all different. I guess you could say I needed a change.
Anyway. Danny was my first real boyfriend. The thing with Jared doesn’t count because he was only trying to score. So when Danny not only noticed me but also asked me out, I was like, “What’s wrong with you?” Because normally people look at me but they don’t exactly talk to me. They just kind of sneak looks like I can’t tell they’re gawking, or they get shocked into silence, depending on the person. But Danny was like, “Nothing.” And I believed him because he was Danny.
He just came right up to me with his cute smile and customized Vans, which is the ultimate skater-boy sneaker that gets me every time, and his yellow rubber bracelet that says MOMENT OF ZEN and his radical attitude and picked me to be with out of everyone else. Maybe he thought my clothes matched his political fanaticism.
And it was great at first. But then there was that night. So I had to break up with him. I couldn’t deal with it then and I still can’t deal with it now and that’s just the way it is.
Yeah. You know what? The whole thing is way too complicated to even get into here.
So I’m in my room listening to X & Y and ignoring Mom yelling how if I don’t clean my closet I can’t go out tonight and consulting the latest entries in my spy notebook. I’ve had one of these since fourth grade when I fell in love with Harriet the Spy and wanted to be her more than anyone else in the whole entire world. And I still have spy notebooks, because it’s this thing I do to get plot ideas for the screenplay I’m writing. I spy on random strangers and kids at school all the time for ideas, and they don’t even know it. No one knows about my notebook except for Rhiannon. Well yeah okay and I told Danny, but I’m sure he probably forgot by now. Who remembers everything about somebody?
My ultimate goal is to be a film director, but writing screenplays is an excellent way to get noticed in the indie world. I love being in control of everything that happens, like being the one to decide who gets a happy ending. It would be so kickass if I turned out to be like Todd Solondz (Welcome to the Dollhouse, Happiness) or Alexander Payne (About Schmidt, Election), who are, like, the ultimate mega gurus of film. And not to toot my own horn, but I have an amazing eye for detail, which is critical in this business. Like with Mike White? I totally noticed that he wrote The Good Girl (which is one of my all-time faves and if you haven’t seen it, there is just no excuse for that kind of behavior) and that he was also a writer for season one of Dawson’s Creek. But that’s not the detail. The detail is that he had this almost identical line in both of them. Something about “going to the grave with unlived lives in your veins.” I’m sure there was me and like two other people in the world who noticed that.
So I’m consulting my spy notebook and now Mom is yelling that dinner’s ready and I so don’t want to go down there I can’t even.
But like I have a choice. So I slog down to the dining room. Or the part of the living room we call the dining room because we put a dining-room table there. It’s from our old house and it doesn’t even fit into this pocket-sized apartment, but somehow Mom crammed it in anyway. When we lived upstate in Water Mill, there was room for everything. Out in the country with a whole backyard and a stream. You could fit like ten of our apartments in that house, which was my grandparents’ and where my mom grew up. Here it’s a mega challenge to just get room to breathe.
It’s been three weeks. Let’s just say Danny’s still not over me. But I like him and I want to be friends with him and he said that’s cool, but you can tell it’s not. Because how can you be just friends with someone when what you really want is so much more? But he said he’d rather be friends with me than not know me at all. So now we’re both at this party at Keith’s place, and I heard that Danny might ask me to the Last Blast dance next Friday and I don’t know what to say if he does.
I drink my 7-Up and watch Heather fake-sip her beer. I totally get that she’s fake-sipping it because she knows Carl is watching and she has a major crush on him, but still. That’s no excuse to act like someone you’re not. It’s like, if you don’t want to drink then don’t drink. It’s so tragic. That’s one thing I love about Rhiannon. She’s straight-edge and doesn’t care who knows, because she’s proud of it.
Scanning the crowd for Rhiannon, I find her standing near the wall looking sad. I try to remember the last time she didn’t look sad and I can’t. And I can’t believe Steve dumped her like that and didn’t even tell her why. Who does that? But unfortunately for Ree, you can’t argue your way into someone liking you again when they just announced that they don’t anymore. It’s over for them, so it has to be over for you, even though it’s so not. I never used to get this, but after I broke up with Danny, everything was crystal.
I walk over to Ree and th
ink about what I can say to make her feel better. Not to be shallow at a time like this, but her outfit rocks. She has the coolest sense of style anywhere. It’s like she doesn’t have “good clothes” and “bad clothes” categories, because all her clothes are hot. She has these retro orange-and-brown-striped pants and about three hundred jelly bracelets and an orange shirt that says CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’. Her bag has three pins—the fox from The Little Prince, John Lennon in his New York City tee, and one that says LOOK CLOSER. It’s a whole different look from the party outfit I am currently working, which is my black knee-high biker boots (the ones with all the buckles and three-inch heels), shiny red vinyl micro-mini, and Hello Kitty tee. But you know. They both work for different reasons.
So I ask Ree where James is and he’s getting a drink. And she looks so sad and lonely, and I hug her. And then she asks me if her eyes look red, and they’re totally bloodshot but I tell her they’re fine and that she looks gorgeous as always. Which is true.
She’s like, “Can you believe this place? What do Keith’s parents do again?”
And I’m like, “I think his dad works with Donald Trump.”
Ree says how that’s so typical. And then I’m preparing for another rant about Steve and how lacking he is, but Ree’s not like that. Ree’s like how she wants to get Steve back.
Danny passes by but doesn’t come over, and I can feel him watching me from all the way over there.
Ree notices and goes, “How’s the let’s-just-be-friends thing going?”
I go, “Nowhere. It’s impossible for a boy and a girl to just be friends.” Ree smirks so I add, “Okay, except for you and James.”
And she’s all, “So it is possible.” But I’ve never believed that Rhiannon and James are just friends. They have to like each other more than that. Even if they don’t want to admit it.
So I say, “Are you seriously telling me that you’ve never . . .”
“What?”
“Didn’t you ever want to get with him?”
And she’s like, “James? No way! He’s like my brother or something.” And then she does this shudder thing, but I’m not entirely convinced. Plus James is her type—she goes for the smart boys with glasses.
So I go, “But he’s mad cute.”
And she’s like, “Yeah, but . . . no. See? You can be friends with a boy as long as you’re not attracted to him.”
“But you just said he’s cute.”
“No, you said he’s cute.”
“But you agreed.”
Rhiannon just stands there scratching her arm. Then she says how Keith just asked her out and I’m like, “You waited this whole time to tell me?”
And she’s all, “Yeah because it’s not like I’m ever going out with him.”
And I’m like, “Are you crazy?” Because just look at this place. I have two words for you: rooftop pool. In downtown Manhattan. Some seriously sick stuff. Not that stuff is what’s important in life. But I definitely wouldn’t mind kickin’ it with this caliber of stuff for a while, if you know what I mean.
Sheila comes over and goes, “I’m going up to see the pool. Want to come with?” And I’m about to say let’s go but then I see Danny coming over. It would be mega rude to walk away when he’s obviously coming over to talk to me and I’ve already seen him.
So Ree leaves with Sheila, and Danny comes over and he’s trying to play the part of See Look How Fabulously We Can Just Be Friends, but it comes off more like I Really Really Miss You. And I’m trying to make him feel better by asking him how things are going and about the election and he’s trying to act all casual and relaxed, but it’s just not working and I should have gone up to the roof. So I say I’m going up and does he want to come? But he doesn’t, so I go up alone.
The roof is amazing. You can see for miles up here, all the way to the end of Manhattan and across the water, and uptown to the Empire State Building, and it’s beyond overwhelming.
I go over to where Ree and Sheila are sitting on lounge chairs at the other side of the pool. And Sheila’s like, “Did you guys hear about Eliezer?”
We didn’t. So she fills us in on the latest gossip, which is that Eliezer blew up a condom and put it under Jackson’s chair in Web Design. Eliezer does things like this because he thinks they’re hilarious. When in fact it’s so sixth grade I can’t even. So then Ms. Zigman pitched a fit and totally called Eliezer out on how when he took a practice SAT he thought chicken coop was some type of co-op housing deal for upscale chickens. Which is a really sad commentary on how the SAT is totally unfair and favors suburban kids, but whatever. Ms. Zigman will do something extreme like that if you act like a child in her class, especially if you try to embarrass someone else.
So after a while Ree decides she’s leaving, which is totally disappointing but at least we got her out of the house for one night. So I hug her good-bye and tell her to call me if she needs anything.
It’s just so nice, sitting up here on the roof all peaceful. But then Brad shows up and Sheila leaves with him and I notice that he’s kind of demanding about it. But of course I don’t say anything because it’s none of my business. So I go back downstairs and notice Danny talking to James and Carl and Evan. There’s something about the way they’re talking, all conspiratorially and laughing. I don’t even know why or what it is about the way Danny’s talking and laughing with them, but it’s kind of obvious they’re all discussing some girl, and I want to know who she is and what he’s saying.
I kind of sneak up behind Danny so he doesn’t even know I’m there, and I position myself so it’s like I’m standing there listening to this other group instead of totally spying on Danny. If I could get away with recording the deets in my spy notebook, I definitely would. But when I hear her name, I wish I had never come over.
They’re not just talking about a girl. They’re talking about the girl. Marion Cross. The school überbabe. I’ll bet there’s not one boy in our school who doesn’t use her for nightly masturbation material. Naturally, she only dates college guys.
Anyway, I’m expecting to hear Danny laughing along with the others, like maybe one of them tried to ask Marion out or something equally ridiculous. But that’s not what’s going on. It sounds like they’re encouraging Danny to ask her out. But it’s hard to hear exactly.
Evan goes, “A score for you would be a score for the entire junior class.”
And Carl’s like, “Hell yeah!”
Danny’s all, “Never say never, that’s my motto.”
It’s like I can believe it but I can’t believe it. Why is he even interested in her? I mean, okay, duh, I get it, but already? It’s like he couldn’t wait to get away from me so he could hit on her. And Ree keeps insisting how it’s so obvious that he still wants to be with me, but I guess it’s not so obvious after all.
I’m insanely jealous. Which is completely absurd since I’m the one who broke up with him. So I don’t exactly have a right to feel this way. But that’s the thing about feelings. They’re totally illogical, especially when it’s not fun for them to be.
So it’s totally illogical that I do this next thing, which is walk right into Danny’s group.
He looks completely guilty, like I just caught him talking about something he didn’t want me to hear. He’s all like, “Hey, Nicole! I didn’t see you.”
So I’m like, “What’s up?”
And Carl’s like, “Nothing yet.” Then he nudges Evan and they do that snorting/laughing thing you do when there’s an inside joke.
Evan goes, “Yeah. I’m not as lucky as some people,” and he looks right at Danny when he says this.
Danny laughs uncomfortably, and it’s so obvious he’s dying right now because he’s afraid they’re going to say something about Marion in front of me and blow up his spot, and I hate the way this is making me feel. I don’t want to know but at the same time I want to know everything.
But then Danny says later to the guys and asks if the roof is cool and I say it is, and he
asks if I want to check it out again. I just stare at the window wall.
And he’s like, “What’s wrong?”
So of course I say, “Nothing.” When really it’s everything.
He goes, “Sure you don’t want to go up?”
I say I’m sure. So he leaves and I immediately start having those thoughts. They’re the same thoughts I’ve been having for months anytime I’m alone and unoccupied. Or even when I’m occupied, like with doing homework or shaving my legs or trying to decide if I want cereal or waffles for breakfast.
But the thoughts are interrupted by Joni barging over and going, “It’s so terrible about Rhiannon and Steve. I heard her talking about it with Sheila before? Yeah. I thought they were a serious item, but I guess I was wrong. Is she still devastated?”
She can’t seriously be asking this question. Is she really that dense?
But apparently she is, because she’s still waiting for a response. So I say, “Yeah, she’s still . . . devastated.”
And then she starts in on this whole thing about how there’s this trend at our school of boys dumping their girlfriends out of nowhere and getting away with it like it’s not even wrong and did I hear about Brad and Sheila?
I didn’t.
So then I have to stand there for like twenty minutes while Joni tells me every last detail of Brad and Sheila’s lives and how tragic it was that he threatened to break up just because she had to take care of her little brother after school and didn’t have time to see him as much. And how it traumatized her so bad that she failed a French test and it wasn’t even that hard. But they ended up staying together because Sheila told her mother that she can’t babysit every day because it was affecting her grades. And how can any remotely involved parent argue when you play the grade card?
And then Joni goes, “I just can’t get over it about Steve, though. And to go out with Gloria? I really thought he was above all that.”