“You should get your applications filled out. I could help you, you know.” Jade pushed away from me and looked at me. I found eagerness in her face, as if she actually enjoyed filling out paperwork.
I wanted to spend more time with her, and if I had to fill out college applications to do it, I would. Thankfully, she didn’t ask me what I might study. We chatted about school, and discussed movies and bands we liked, and when Drew pulled into the driveway with her Homecoming dress, Jade said she needed to get home so she could go to the mall. I took the keys from Drew so I could drive Jade home.
“Ten minutes, Mitch,” Mom said, which meant she’d know if I stayed in Jade’s driveway and made out with her—a fact that annoyed me. I thought of myself a year from now, going where I wanted and staying as long as I wanted. On the short ride to Jade’s house, I contemplated asking her if I could sneak over later, maybe under the cover of darkness. Then we arrived and she kissed me, and we spent ten minutes in her driveway doing exactly what I wanted to do, no application required.
17
The Monday before Homecoming arrived with Holly standing outside our AP history classroom. I noticed her at the same time she saw me, and I stopped in the hallway. This caused problems, of course, and people bumped into me and cursed under their breath as the flow of students readjusted itself.
“Hey, Mitch,” Holly said, her voice notably cooler. Or maybe I just hadn’t spoken to her in so long that I’d forgotten how she sounded. She watched at me nervously like I might attack her. Her eyes looked red and her hair had been scooped hastily into a ponytail. So un-Holly.
Something was definitely wrong. I hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, but now I moved toward my best friend and crushed her in a hug. “Hey.” She felt so small, though she was taller that Jade. I realized the difference was because Jade had a bigger chest, but I was only concerned about Holly’s body because of the violent shaking in her shoulders. I stepped back. “Give me your essay and stay here.”
She complied and then pulled out the band keeping her hair back so it spilled forward and hid her face. I dropped my backpack next to her feet and took our essays in to Mr. Thompson. I explained that Holly was sick, and I needed to take her home, but our essays were done. He wrote us each a hall pass, and I left.
After checking out at the office, Holly and I settled in my car. “Okay, where to?” I asked.
“You told the office we were going home.”
“Yeah, so where to?” The last place I wanted to go was home. Mom would ask a thousand questions and then volunteer to take care of Holly, and I’d be sent back to school for second period.
“If you don’t pick, I will,” I said, backing out of the space.
“Mitch, I—” Her voice broke, and she started crying again.
“Breakfast,” I said, trying to keep the storm inside my chest from exploding out. I knew she was distressed. I’d heard her piano every morning and every evening for weeks. We hadn’t switched phones, and the last two times we’d talked, we’d argued.
She always arrived to history ahead of me, and I’d made it a point over the past few weeks to look somewhere else until I’d sat down. Just having her ride shotgun allowed my bottled frustration to escape. I hadn’t just missed her; I’d craved her advice, her presence. Emotion swelled in my own throat, but I focused on the road so I wouldn’t break down.
I wondered if her tears were because of Scott, or if something had happened with her mom—but both of those didn’t feel right. If something had happened at the Isaacson household, the church would know, which meant Dad would know, which meant I would know.
So school. Holly surely hadn’t started failing so many classes that it warranted a full scale break-down in the hall. It had only been a few weeks since the track meet and the last time we’d spoken.
So what could break her?
Greg came unbidden to my mind.
“Did he hurt you?” I asked, the only sound the whir of the engine and the whoosh of air through the vents.
“He broke up with me on Saturday,” she said, her tears still falling and her voice an octave too high. “One week before Homecoming, and he dumped me.”
I remembered seeing his Miata in her driveway while Jade and I were talking on my porch. I’d never seen Holly freak out over a guy before. At least not like this. The last guy she’d dated still called her sometimes, and last I’d heard, they studied for chemistry tests together. Besides, she and Greg had only been dating for what? Three months?
“I’m sorry,” I said, but it was mostly for the punch I was going to throw at Greg the first chance I got. I didn’t care how long—or not long—they’d been dating. It took a special brand of loser to break up with someone a week before Homecoming.
“And then this morning,” she said. “He asked Katy to the dance.”
“Katy Morgan?” The girl’s basketball star with excellent ball-handling skills. She was in our AP history class, and I’d seen her handwriting—perfection. I yanked my attention back to reality and reminded myself that I had a girlfriend.
“Yes,” Holly said. “I heard her talking about me in the bathroom, and I just couldn’t go into history without—”
Without what? almost fell out of my mouth, then I realized that Holly couldn’t go into AP history without me.
I fired off a quick text to Jade saying I wouldn’t be in English lit while Holly went into the bathroom at IHOP to clean up. I also texted my mom and told her I was out of school for the day because Holly had an “emergency.”
Big mistake. I should’ve waited until after school and then told her I’d cut all day—or even lied about why. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” my dad always joked. But this was no joke.
Mom called within seconds of my text, and I couldn’t blow her off. “Where are you?” she asked when I answered.
“Hello, Mom,” I said as calmly as possible.
“Mitch,” she warned. “What’s wrong with Holly?”
“Um, not sure,” I hedged. “We’re at IHOP. It’s okay, I’m taking care of… whatever with pork fat and maple syrup.”
She sighed—or was she trying to conceal a laugh?—and a lengthy pause filled the line. “What?” I asked. “I can afford to miss school, Mom. It’s no big deal. I turned in my history essay.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I think we need to discuss what constitutes an emergency.”
“Oh, jeez,” I said. “Sorry, I’ll choose my words more carefully next time.” Holly pushed out of the bathroom. “I’ve got to go, Mom. We’re fine.”
“Invite Holly for dinner,” Mom yelled, as if I was going to hang up on her. Which I was.
“Fine,” I said. “Talk to you later.”
I shoved the phone in my pocket and tried to smile at Holly. Her eyes flitted past my face, as if she didn’t want to look at me yet. I knew this tactic. I did it every night to prevent anyone from talking to me during dinner.
I put my hands on Holly’s shoulders and made her face me. “Look at me,” I said. “I’m right here, and everything is going to be okay.”
She met my steady gaze, and all I saw in her eyes was raw pain. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You must think I’m the biggest jerk in the world.”
Maybe, I thought. “I do not,” I said.
“I completely ignore you, get mad at you for letting me ignore you, try to horn in on you and your new girlfriend, and then come crawling back when I get dumped.” Her chest shuddered with a fresh sob. “I’m pathetic.”
“That’s not true,” I whispered, but only because my mind was still processing why she was mad at me and it couldn’t make my voice work at a normal decibel. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” she said, pressing her face to my chest. “But I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
I didn’t know what to do or say. This moment felt too heavy, too intimate, her holding on to me like she needed me to stand. Me gripping her like we were enduring a gale-force wind and tryi
ng to survive. Us. Together. Right there in the dingy IHOP entrance, I felt freer and happier than I had in a long time, and I had no idea why.
I cleared my throat and she stepped back. “Of course you will,” I managed to say as I turned and draped my arm over her shoulders. “Luckily, bacon can fix almost anything. You brought your wallet, right?” I attempted a smile, but it felt slightly strained. She returned the gesture, her mouth trembling the tiniest bit.
I ignored my phone as it buzzed. I knew it would be Jade, and I didn’t want to tell her where I was at the moment.
“Just bacon,” Jade repeated, her dark eyes not as calm as I would’ve liked. She brushed her hair over her shoulder and cocked her hip as if to say, Well?
I’d told her the basics of where I’d been that morning via text, and my last one had said It was just bacon.
“And eggs,” I said, stepping back so she could come into the living room. I’d texted her after school and asked her over for dinner. Since I’d skipped track, I thought she could come early and we could hang out. That, of course, was code for make out, but the way Jade was looking at me, the possibility of kissing her was growing more and more distant. Suddenly, the curse-filled voicemail Coach Braeburn had left wasn’t worth missing practice.
“Did you have pancakes too?” she asked, keeping a healthy distance between us.
“It’s IHOP,” I said. “It would be a crime not to get pancakes too.”
She almost smiled. Almost.
“Look,” I said, moving toward her and circling my arms around her waist. She felt different than Holly. More volume, I thought, hearing the words in my head in Lance’s voice. I smiled to myself and brought her closer.
“Holly was in distress,” I said, dipping my mouth closer to Jade’s ear and lowering my voice to a whisper. “I would’ve done it for anyone. She’s not special—” As soon as I said that, I knew it wasn’t true. Holly was special to me. She was my best friend.
“—She’s my friend,” I finished, suddenly feeling weird holding Jade and talking about Holly. I stepped back. “Holly’s coming for dinner too, and probably her brother Scott. If that bothers you, we could go out.”
She waved her hand. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“Are you sure? Because you sort of look bothered.”
That got her to smile, though she still had that predatory edge in her eyes. “I think you said something about needing help with your college applications.”
I groaned, even though I had mentioned that. “Really? You’re going straight to that?”
“What else is there?” she asked. “I told you I was stubborn.” She placed her hands on my chest. “I’ll get you into college if it’s the last thing I do.”
“This is the first—and probably only—day I don’t have track and I’m home in the afternoon. I just thought…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish, because my thoughts bordered on fantasies, and those couldn’t be spoken out loud. “Maybe we could go out back.”
“You’re not getting off that easy,” she said. “We’ll go out back, but I’m not leaving here until you fill out an application. Deal?”
“I have one for KU. Since you’ve already done that one, I’ll start there.” I was already moving into the kitchen.
“I got a dress for Homecoming,” she said, following me outside to the deck and down the stairs into the backyard.
“Yeah? What color?”
“Purple,” she said, heading for the tire swing. “Like eggplants, not like a weird magenta purple or anything.”
“Sounds nice,” I said. I’d ask Mom to help me buy a corsage tomorrow night.
Jade started across the lawn toward the tire swing, but I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s too hot out there,” I complained. “Let’s sit in the shade.” We had an old porch swing under the deck that the sun couldn’t quite reach yet. I sat down and Jade joined me, and because I knew no one would come down here without yelling first, I kissed her.
She let me for a minute and then she said, “So you’re going straight for that?”
I laughed, said, “What else is there?” and kissed her again.
18
After dinner, Jade sat next to me while I filled out the application for KU. Holly had gone upstairs with Drew and Scott, and for the first time in weeks, Omar hadn’t stayed for dinner. I was tired of his shifty eyes, always trying to find mine and pass me an unspoken message. I didn’t get why he was upset with me. He was dating my sister, and I hadn’t said anything to him about it for weeks.
“This is all the easy stuff,” Jade said as I wrote my name and address, birthday and phone number.
“You’ll want to list track.” She pointed to the extra-curricular activities chart. “And show choir, oh, and make sure you say that you’re co-captain of the track team.”
I could figure out the application on my own. Everyone knew that. My parents exchanged glances as they cleaned up the leftovers, but I didn’t care. I laughed with Jade, and asked her questions I already knew the answers to. When I had the whole thing done except for the essay, I slid the application into my orange folder and walked with Jade to the front porch. “Thanks,” I told her. “You made filling out college applications bearable.”
“No problem,” she said. “Being at your house is so… easy. My house feels like a cage sometimes.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, because I saw every exchanged glance between my parents. I knew their tactics for drawing me into a conversation. I caught Drew’s eyerolling, even when Mom didn’t.
“Come tomorrow, too,” I said, because with Jade at dinner, Dad could pester someone else with questions about college. I leaned toward her to hug her goodbye. Holly and Scott burst out of the front door, calling goodbyes to Drew and my parents.
“Oh, sorry.” Holly squeezed past me, the cheerfulness fading from her eyes. Jade was swept down the stairs with her, but they didn’t talk or anything. Holly marched across the lawn, her back straight. Jade watched her go, a look on her face I couldn’t read. When she glanced back to me, she brought out a mega-watt smile that made my blood vibrate. As she rode away on her bike, I realized that she and Holly weren’t necessarily friends.
I stood at my bedroom window, looking down into the street. Night had fallen, and the orange street lamps cast pools of light at the corners. Just the thought of writing an essay made my skin crawl.
I exhaled away the thoughts of college. Beyond my bedroom window, the neighborhood was quiet and calm, and for the first time in a long time, I felt the same way.
At least until Omar called. “We’re doubling for Homecoming, right?” he asked. “Drew said you finally asked Jade, and that we could all go together.” My blood pressure rose. First, because though Drew had been hounding me to go out with her and Omar, I’d never committed. Second, I just didn’t get him. Why would he want to date a freshman? There were so many senior girls to choose from. At least Omar had the good sense not to bombard me with sexual innuendos involving my sister.
“Are you driving?” I asked. “Because I don’t want to clean the car, and Drew’s not going to ruin her nails doing it.”
“Sure, man, I can drive my mom’s van.”
“Is Lance tagging along?” I suspected that Lance wouldn’t have a date. He didn’t commit to girls long enough to take them to dances, and he didn’t commit to going at all until my plans were cemented.
“Call him and ask,” Omar said. “Then text me.”
“Okay.”
Instead of calling Lance, I fisted my phone and crossed the hall to Drew’s room. I knocked but opened the door immediately afterward. Drew was modeling her Homecoming dress in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. Gold and strapless, but surprisingly, the dress covered her better than most of her shirts. A blip of annoyance shot through me. Drew didn’t have a job, which meant Mom had paid for that dress. I’d had to fork over the money for my own tux. How was that fair?
“Did you do my din
ner chores tonight?” I practically growled.
Drew turned, a flicker of fear skating across her face. “I will tomorrow, I swear,” she said, her sweet tone belying the edge in her eyes.
“Come on, Drew,” I said. “You already told Mom and Dad we were doubling for Homecoming, didn’t you?”
Drew crossed the room with surprising speed considering the height of her heels. “Get in here.” She pulled me into the room and checked down the stairs as if Mom was listening to our argument. Drew closed the door and took a deep breath before turning to face me.
“Please, Mitch,” she said. “You’re already going with Jade, and I know you haven’t planned a single thing.”
“That’s—”
“I’ll take care of everything, I swear. The restaurant, your corsage, everything.” The desperation in her voice pushed a pin into my heart.
“And my dinner chores,” I said. “For two weeks.”
“Fine.” She moved back to the mirror.
“He’s too old for you,” I said over my shoulder, because she seemed pissed at me that she’d lied and now I wanted her to do my chores.
Drew spun toward me. “Get out.”
“What are you going to do when he graduates? You’re a freshman.”
“And you’re not my father.” She slammed the door as I stepped into the hall, and I could hear her calling me every foul name in her fourteen-year-old vocabulary.
I stood in the hall, my blood burning through my veins. I wanted to barge back in there and tell her to stop telling me I wasn’t her father. I knew I wasn’t Dad. I didn’t want to be Dad.
“Mitch?” Dad asked from the direction of the stairs. Somehow my feet moved, and I went down to meet him. “What’s going on? Why are we slamming doors?”
The kitchen was clean and dark, the dishwasher humming. I could hear the TV on in my parent’s bedroom behind me and the faint sound of the piano from Holly’s house next door. At least it sounded like the piece she’d been pounding out was getting better.