I’ve never been this nervous to meet a girl before.
Relax. You said she’s cool.
I hate that she might think I went behind her back.
But you didn’t.
You and your logic.
It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m meeting Mike for coffee in half an hour. Her reply last night gave no indication as to what she’s thinking. She suggested coffee and I said yes.
For the millionth time I text Wish you were here.
Me too. xoxo
Dad drops me off in front of the coffee shop that’s a block away from the brewery. We didn’t talk about the stolen recipe—in fact, we really haven’t talked since yesterday morning. When I got home from skiing he was on his laptop and I was so tired I passed out right away. I want to ask what this could mean for the business but I’m terrified to find out.
The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries greets me when I step inside, but I don’t see Mike. The tables along the windows are all taken so I wind toward one in the back corner, which is probably better for talking anyway, and drape my jacket over one of the chairs before heading to the counter to place my order. While the foam machine spurts to life, my gaze drifts out the window to a car double parked in front of the shop. Mike’s blond ponytail catches the sunlight as she leans over to kiss her mom on the cheek, and everything inside me goes still. My skin burns, tears sting my eyes, and my breath is lodged somewhere in the lower part of my lungs where it’s completely useless to me. It sometimes surprises me how physically acute my longing is to have Mom back. To have the all-encompassing grief replaced with my friends’ casual confidence that their moms will be here tonight, tomorrow, next week.
“Miss?”
I startle at the voice from behind the counter.
The barista is holding out a cup. “Your order?” She says it in a way that tells me I was so zoned out I didn’t hear her the first few times.
I take the coffee. “Sorry. Thanks.”
She smiles and turns her attention to Mike, who’s walking through the front door.
“Hey, I’m over there.” I point at the corner table.
She glances at the table, but doesn’t smile or do anything to indicate that she’s happy to be here. “‘Kay.”
Okay then. I return to the table and stir the whipped cream into my coffee until the liquid is an acceptable shade of light brown. I straighten when Mike sits. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
We stare at each other for what feels like eons, a thousand starts to the conversation storming through my mind, all of them stupid. I take a deep breath. “I don’t really know what to say so I’m just gonna word vomit on you.”
The corner of her mouth quirks.
“I don’t know why we haven’t talked—like, really talked—since my first week here, but I think you’re really cool and I thought we could be friends. I meant it when I told you nothing would happen with Evan. Nothing has happened. Blake and I are finally talking and yesterday we kissed.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“I know. Evan actually knows about Blake, although not the stuff from before I moved here. And,” I pause. She’s being so quiet I have no idea how she’ll react to this next part, but if I’m being honest, I need to go all in. “I told him I knew about you two—that you dated—and that I consider you a friend and won’t go there.”
“You told him that?”
I nod.
Her expression is wary. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what did he say?”
“I didn’t tell him anything about what we talked about, but he seemed surprised. Then when we saw you yesterday when we were leaving he almost acted like he felt guilty.”
“Interesting.”
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, but I got the feeling that us talking about you has him thinking about you.”
She takes a sip of coffee and is quiet for a very long minute. “That would be an improvement.” She studies the foam on her coffee. “Do you think he might still have feelings for me?”
Truthfully, I do, but I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m wrong. “He definitely seemed concerned about you. I say you talk to him. See where it goes.”
She stares at her cup without saying anything.
I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined the connection we had. It was one day and I haven’t seen a glimpse of that side of her since then. Just when I’m considering abandoning my coffee and going home to work on my English paper, she sighs.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant since...” she waves her hand. “I guess since your first week, huh?” I nod. “It’s just, I’ve been so locked into Bri’s world that I stopped trying to be my own person. The whole reason Evan broke up with me is he said I acted too much like her. He wanted the real me, but she’s had me so brainwashed that I don’t know who that is anymore. When you and I talked that was the first time I felt like myself in months, but Bri put a stop to that. Again.” She picks up her cup but sets it back down without drinking. “I hate that she has that kind of control over me but I’m scared what will happen if I actually stand up to her.”
My stomach cramps at the memory of standing up to Bri at my party. I’m glad I did it and I’d do it again, but confrontation makes me squirmy. “Have you ever tried?”
She shrugs. “Here and there. Just over stupid stuff, like not going to a party or wearing an outfit.”
I shake my head. “Her and those coordinated outfits.”
A smile brightens her face. “I know, right?” Then the smile fades. “She’s controlled my life for so long that I can’t imagine anything else.”
“That’s depressing.”
She stretches out her fingers, studying the cuticles. It feels like she’s avoiding looking at me. “I hate feeling like a victim.”
I lower my voice. “Is it really that bad?”
Her eyes redden as she nods. “I feel so stupid that I’ve let it go this far.” She looks up and tears shine in her eyes. “I swear I used to have a backbone.”
A protectiveness I haven’t felt since Sophia got pushed down on the playground in fourth grade pulses through me, heating my skin and making me sit up straight. “I’ll help you.”
She looks startled. “What do you mean?”
I’m not really sure but words fly out of my mouth. “I’ll help you break free from Brianna. I’m fairly confident that after Friday she hates me more than the fact that they don’t have class-segregated bathrooms, so now’s the perfect time.”
She raises an eyebrow. “How so?”
I’m a little surprised she hasn’t jumped up to join the revolution. This is unchartered territory for me but I’m so amped I’m ready to rally everyone in the coffee place behind our cause. Viva la Brivolution! “Her foundation’s crumbling. She’ll let you go without much of a fight in order to save face to the rest of the school.”
“Appearance is critical for her.”
“So it’s settled.”
“Not so fast.”
I lean forward, arms on the table, until my hands are right next to hers. I hesitate at making contact. What have I got to lose? I grab her hands and squeeze. She jumps at my touch but doesn’t pull away. “The longer you let this continue, the harder it will be.”
She takes a deep breath. “So how do we do this?”
I break into a smile. “Really?!”
“I’m glad you’re excited.” The sarcasm is so thick I can almost taste it.
I need to break her out of this funk. I pump our hands in the air and she laughs. It’s a start. “I haven’t exactly done this before, but the first step is telling Bri no. You don’t have to make a big show of it, but if she tells you to do something you don’t agree with, don’t do it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess I’ve always done what I wanted. Maybe it’s because Sophia and the guys don’t play stupid mind games and have always been there for me, or maybe it’s because I learned at a young age that there are more important things in life than earning the approval of a self-involved drama queen. But still, I couldn’t imagine cutting myself off from my friends—even though that’s basically what I did when we moved here. “It’s time you put yourself first. High school is horrific enough without a power-hungry mega-bitch making it worse.” I release her hands and take a long drink of my coffee. “I can’t promise it won’t be awful at first, but how great would it be to spend the next two and a half years doing whatever you want?”
She gets a wistful look on her face and I wonder if she’s thinking about Evan. If what she said about the reason for their breakup is true, maybe that can change, too.
After two more cups of coffee and countless scenarios of how the breakup with Bri will play out, we head outside to catch the bus home. We’re still debating whether or not Bri’s head will spin around on her neck or pop completely off when I get two texts: one from Amber apologizing for not showing yesterday and asking if I can night ski sometime this week, and the other from Blake, asking me on an actual date.
I reply to Amber first. I’ll check with my dad. I’m staring at my phone, unable to formulate a response to Blake that’s more than OMG SQUEE when Mike pushes the button for her stop.
“Everything okay?”
I snap my head up. “What? Oh, yeah. Have you been skiing at Eldora at night?”
“Every now and then, sure. But that’s not what’s turned you into a pile of mush.”
I can’t fight the smile that spreads over my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The bus slows and she sways with the movement. “I think I’ve earned the truth.”
She’s right. I hounded her for an hour—the least I can do is open up about what’s going on. “Blake asked me out.”
She jumps up and does a little dance as the bus jerks to a stop and she almost falls over. “Cally, that’s great!”
“I haven’t replied.”
The doors swing open. She steps outside but holds onto the railing. “Do it now. That’s an order.” The doors swing shut and she smiles at me through the glass. Self-esteem looks good on her.
Too bad mine has vanished.
I wait until I’m safely in my room, English paper pulled up on my screen, before writing him back.
A real live date? Sophia would be appalled at my lack of charisma.
I’m finishing describing the inverted iron cross—and trying not to let thoughts of Mom distract me—when he finally writes back.
Is there another kind?
I smile. This isn’t the time to confess that I’ve never been on an actual date. Group dates and hanging out after school, sure. As of right now the only time I’ve ridden in a car alone with a boy was with him.
What do you have in mind?
So that’s a yes?
OMG I haven’t said yes. Yes!
Dinner? A movie?
Sitting in a dark room with Blake for two hours sounds amazing. Movies are cool.
Friday?
I flip onto my back and kick my legs in the air. Then I count to ten. Cool.
:)
How’s Andrew?
He went home today. Nothing’s broken but has concussion and sprained neck. No boarding.
I’m relieved, but I also feel bad for him. It sucks to be out of commission. I’m glad he’s okay.
Me too.
Did you write your paper?
Writing it now.
See, we’re meant to be. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s due tomorrow and we’re teenagers so of course we waited until the night before to write it.
What’s your topic?
The day I got my Jeep.
His Jeep! HOW did I forget he has my dream vehicle? And I’m going to ride in it on Friday! I drop my arm over my face. I know he can’t see me but I feel like if I don’t calm down my crazy excitement will somehow go through the airwaves and freak him out. I take a deep breath. Nice. Mine is the first time I nailed the inverted iron cross.
I’d like to see that.
That reminds me. So you’re really not entering the Dash next month?
No.
Why?
Not my thing.
But you’re so good. You’d crush those other guys.
There’s a pause before his reply comes through.
I’m not like them. My life is about more than living on the slopes.
Irritation pricks at the back of my neck. Skiing is my life. If I could be out there every day, I would. Does he think he’s better than us? What’s that supposed to mean?
Other responsibilities. Can’t do practice during the week.
My anger deflates. Oh.
So there’s no point.
Not even bragging rights?
:)
You should at least enter.
I dunno.
We’ll see. I’m not sure what’s taken over me since moving here, but I’m filled with a determination to make him enter. Between him and Mike it’s like I’m the Florence Nightingale of teenage self-esteem. I should finish my paper.
Me too. See you tomorrow.
I toss my phone onto my pillow and stare at the ceiling.
A real date.
With Blake.
My belly flutters and I flip back over, burying my head in my arms. Five more minutes of fantasizing about next Friday and then I’ll get back to work.
***
I hit snooze for the third time and pull the blankets over my head. As excited as I am to see Blake, I dread seeing Brianna. Maybe Mike will stage her revolt first thing in the morning and she’ll forget all about me.
You’re terrible, I scold myself. Mike is my friend and I promised to stand beside her. If it means I take the brunt of Bri’s wrath, so be it. I’m not the one choosing to further disrupt my social standing and possibly lose all my friends. But I don’t think everyone will abandon her. Bri and Kenzie will, but the guys don’t seem to care about the social hierarchy. Who knows, maybe Evan will give Mike another chance when he sees that she’s trying to change.
And while I’m wishing for things, maybe Brianna will hand over Dad’s notebook with a little note that says ‘My Bad’ taped to the front.
The halls at school are unusually quiet. It’s like the student body recognizes something big is about to happen and they don’t want to disrupt the balance in the force.
Either that, or they want to hear the explosion when it happens.
I find Mike at her locker before the first bell. “How’re you doing?”
She shakes her head, her face oddly pale. “I think I might throw up.”
I touch her arm. “You’re doing the right thing. She’s one person. And no one but you gets to control your life. It’s time she realizes that.”
Her lower lip trembles. “I’m not so sure.”
“What happened to what we talked about yesterday?” She can’t back down now! And I swear I’m not thinking that because without Mike I won’t have any friends. I truly want her to be happy. “I promise I’ll back you up.”
“I’ll try.” The corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile. “But I can’t promise I won’t just run away if she starts screaming.”
“She won’t scream. She’ll want to control the rumors and if she loses her cool everyone will know it’s you dumping her, not the other way around.”
“Rumors?”
“Well...” I rub the toe of my shoe against the ground. “You know people are going to talk.”
She leans her head against the locker and closes her eyes. “This is a terrible idea.”
I lean close and whisper in her ear. “It’s the only way out.”
A snotty voice makes my spine stiffen. “What the hell are you two whispering about?”
Brianna.
I turn to face her and I can feel Mike shrinking against the locker. I nudge her foot with mine and smile at Brianna. “Just how great my party was. It’s too bad you had to leave early.”
Brianna’s face turns from pink to a mottled red that clashes with her fuchsia sweater. She glares at me for one moment... two... three... then turns her attention to Mike. “I told you we’re not friends with,” she pauses to roll her eyes in my direction, “her anymore.”
“Last time I checked, you aren’t her mother.” I don’t know where this attitude is coming from. I must be channeling Sophia.
Mike pushes off the locker and crosses her arms over her chest.
“What are you doing?” There’s a split-second hitch in Bri’s bravado, a quaver in her voice that’s almost imperceptible, then she straightens her back and it’s gone.
Mike shifts so her shoulder’s brushing mine. “I’m talking to Cally. Last time I checked, I can be friends with whoever I want.”
Bri’s jaw clenches.
This is it.
Her head’s going to shoot off her neck.
I’m almost disappointed when it doesn’t.
She steps toward us.
Don’t step back. Don’t step back. From the corner of my eye I notice heads turning our way.
Brianna points her finger at Mike. “We’re not doing this right now.”
“We’re not doing it later, either.”
Bri’s lips part and she snaps them closed.
I want to whoop and shout I’m so proud of Mike but this isn’t over yet.
Bri steps so close I can smell her mouthwash. She wags her finger between me and Mike. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but this isn’t over.” She spins around and walks away as the first bell rings.
I exhale. “That went well.”
“You call that well?”
“She didn’t scream or pull your hair.”
She waves her hand at the kids around us. “Only because she had an audience. She isn’t gonna let this go that easily.”
A locker slams and we both jump. I force a smile. “I’ll talk to you at lunch.”
I just hope Brianna doesn’t corner her in a dark alley before then.