Apple's Angst (11 page)

Apple's body and brain felt like a deflating balloon. The celebration had died down—the celebration for Apple that had turned into a celebration for Crazy Aunt Hazel's engagement. Mr. Kelly had carried her aunt to his car after she had gotten so drunk she started doing a striptease dance for him, to the utter delight of Zen, Lyon, Happy, and Brooklyn, and to the sheer mortification of Apple and her parents.

Zen and Happy left with Brooklyn. Lyon asked Apple if she wanted to go for a walk.

Apple had always loved to walk, especially if she was anxious or needed to really think about something in silence. Walking for Apple was like meditation for Brooklyn and shopping for Happy. Walking calmed her down. It made her feel serene.

But Apple pointed down at her mangled feet, now covered with multiple Band-Aids. She couldn't imagine standing on her sore feet for one minute longer. Lyon had looked sad, like a puppy dog that needed a home.

“Okay,” he said. “Call me later, then.”

“It's already after eleven,” Apple said. “I need sleep so I can go to school tomorrow and then become a productive member of society. I'm now a working woman, remember?”

“I'll see you at the Spiral Staircase, then,” he said, and they kissed goodbye.

Apple decided to pick out what to wear tomorrow before she went to bed. She didn't want to fret about it all night. She had never cared about how she dressed before. As of this very morning, she hadn't cared! She simply was not brave enough to venture into the fash-ionista world like Happy. But now, even as she looked at the huge pile of Absolutely Not clothes on her bedroom floor, she decided she had nothing suitable to wear for her first official day at
Angst
, where everyone was so fashionable. She made a note to ask Happy to take her shopping with her as soon as she could find the time. Her mother wouldn't mind shelling out the cash, especially if Apple professed she needed professional
clothes to make a “good impression” at her professional new job. Apple finally settled on skintight black jeans, red ankle boots, and a black short-sleeved sweater.

She could only imagine what Emme would be wearing tomorrow and how she would treat Apple. Apple consoled herself by thinking that maybe another celebrity would stop by. That would be fun.

All these years she had never really cared about celebrities, but she couldn't help but feel excited at having seen Sloan Starr in person. She was starting to understand Happy's obsession with celebrities. She could sort of see now why strangers would ask for her mother's autograph.

Somehow, Apple managed to fall asleep—amazing since her nerves felt shot with the pressure of her new job, a new advice column that all her friends would read, and the thought of appearing on television.

She woke up the next morning, though, with butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't even think about eating breakfast.

Every weekday morning, Crazy Aunt Hazel picked her up to drive her to school. Her mother and father always left the house super early to go to work, before Apple's alarm clock even went off. This had been the arrangement for years. Apple wondered if it would stay that way once her aunt got married. She doubted it. It didn't really matter. Lyon, Happy, or Happy's sister, Sailor, would pick her up. Maybe she'd have to get her license—something that, unlike most of her classmates, Apple had put off. She would never admit it to her aunt, but she liked that Hazel drove her to school. She liked
hearing her Crazy Aunt Hazel's stories every morning. They had always made Apple feel sane in comparison.

“Apple, I need to ask you something very important,” Hazel said as soon as Apple jumped into the passenger seat.

Apple couldn't hide her look of disbelief as she glanced at her aunt. She was in her pajamas! Flannel pink pajamas with little bunny prints on them. She looked about eight years old.

“No, I don't think that's a very good look for you,” Apple said sarcastically. “But the slippers are fantastic.”

“Ha ha. I'm so hungover,” her aunt groaned. “I don't even remember getting home last night. There was no way I was getting dressed this morning. You're lucky I even managed to get my head out of the toilet to come get you.”

“Hmm. Shocking. I wonder why you can't remember anything? Oh, right, you drank a bottle of champagne all by yourself,” Apple teased.

“Stop being sarcastic. And don't mention champagne. Don't mention anything to do with alcohol. It's turning my stomach. But I was celebrating. Can you believe I'm getting married?” her aunt asked, squealing in delight, then rubbing her forehead in pain.

“No,” Apple said flatly. “I can't.”

“Come on. You like Jim, don't you? He's so nice and he loves me so much and I just can't get enough of him. I know he doesn't look like a god, but trust me, in bed—” Hazel started to say, before Apple interrupted.

“God, Aunt Hazel! That's my math teacher you're talking about. Can you please have some respect for me!
TMI! Too much information,” groaned Apple, covering her ears and shooting her aunt a disgusted look.

“Okay, okay. But anyway, I wanted to ask you something very important, if you'd just shut up for a moment and take your hands off your ears. And it has nothing to do with what I'm wearing right now. Are you listening?” her aunt demanded.

“Yes, yes. I'm listening,” Apple said.

“I want you and your mother—
both
—to be my maids of honor,” she said, biting her lip in anticipation of Apple's reaction.

Although Apple wasn't exactly sure what the duties of maid of honor were, she knew it was a very important job, especially for Hazel, who just a few months ago was in constant moaning mode that she'd never find a decent man, let alone a man she actually wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Apple was touched. She could tell how much her aunt loved her at that moment, and she felt herself tearing up with love.

“Of course I'll be your maid of honor,” Apple said, grabbing her aunt's hand and kissing it. “As long as you don't make me wear one of those hideous purple puffy dresses.”

“Oh, you know I will! I can't have my maids of honor looking better than me,” her aunt retorted.

Apple wasn't sure if Hazel was joking or not. Her aunt loved to be the center of attention, so it wouldn't be beyond her to make Apple and her mother wear something hideous just to look stunning in comparison. Apple didn't press the issue. It was
her
wedding day, after all. She would dress in whatever her aunt wanted,
no matter how ridiculous or hideous—even if it was covered in bunny rabbits.

When they pulled up to the school, Apple's aunt looked out the window. Suddenly, she crouched low in her seat so she was hidden behind the steering wheel. She looked scared.

“God, you must get out of this car fast. Like right now! I can't have Jim seeing me like this!” her aunt announced breathlessly and frantically. “He's right over there! I'm sure I can see him walking into the school!”

Apple looked at her aunt like she had gone crazy.

“Are you crazy? He's eventually going to see you in those oh-so-sexy bunny pajamas. You
are
getting married. For better or worse, isn't that what they say? And didn't you spend the night together last night?”

“Oh, no, he most certainly is NOT going to see me like this! These pajamas are going to be burned before our wedding. And, no, he didn't stay over! Now that we're getting married, I refuse to sleep with him again until the actual day. I let him walk me to the door and then I locked him out! I want to at least
feel
like a virgin when I get married.”

Apple shot her aunt a “You've got to be kidding me!” look. “Who are you? You're crazy!” Apple said, laughing at her aunt, who was obviously having one of her “Girl Crazy Moments.”

“Oh, go to school and learn something. And good luck today at
Angst
. You need me to pick you up?” her aunt said, looking around like someone who was worried she would be caught shoplifting.

“No, Lyon is,” Apple responded.

“Good, good. That's Jim for sure,” Crazy Aunt Hazel said, whipping on a pair of sunglasses she had grabbed from the glove compartment. “Go! GO! Get out of here! I mean it. Now!”

“Okay! I'm going. Sheesh. You're already a bridezilla and you just got engaged yesterday! You're already a nutcase. Please promise you're not going to get any crazier than you already are.” Apple opened the door.

“Get out!” her aunt hissed.

“I'm out!” said Apple, slamming the door. Please don't ever let me turn into my aunt, she thought.

A
pple walked through Cactus High, heading toward the Spiral Staircase, where her friends hung out before school, after school, and during breaks. The Spiral Staircase was located in the middle of the school. Students had to walk past it to get to any of the classrooms, the hallways, or the cafeteria.

She hadn't noticed that Zen had caught up to her and was walking beside her until he said, “Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Zen. How are you?” Apple asked. She was uncomfortable being alone with him. There were so many reasons why. Not only had she tried to sabotage his relationship with Happy, but she also had admitted her feelings for him, which were unrequited. Apple admitted her ego was still bruised, but mostly she was embarrassed. Plus Apple didn't want Happy to even wonder if she was still into Zen. She worried that if Happy saw them walking together, alone, it might upset her or make her think Apple still had feelings for him.
Or what if someone else at school saw them together and passed it on to Happy, making this innocent walk seem like something more? The last thing Apple wanted to do was make Happy mad at her or not have trust in her.

And then, of course, there was Lyon, who would not like seeing her walking with Zen at all or hearing rumors about them.

“You look like you've been crying,” Zen said. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, God, yes,” said Apple, amazed that her eyes were still red from her brief tear-up in the car. “My aunt just asked me to be her maid of honor and … oh, I don't know. It brought out the sensitivity gene in me.”

“That's nice,” Zen said. “Are you going to have to wear one of those horribly puffy dresses?”

“Knowing my aunt, definitely,” laughed Apple.

Apple looked at the floor. She still had a hard time looking Zen in the eye. She had never had an easy time looking him straight in the eye, especially during the days of her Super-Sized Zen Crush. But she was positive she no longer liked him in that way—and she had Lyon. So why could she still not look at Zen without blushing or having her heart go pitter-patter? Though Lyon was just as handsome as Zen, in a different way, he never made it hard for Apple to breathe. The world didn't seem to stop when she was with Lyon as it had when she had been in love with Zen. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? On the one hand, she was at ease with Lyon, more so than she had ever been with Zen. On the other hand, he didn't take her breath away, and she kind of liked that swooning feeling.

“I'm heading to the Spiral Staircase,” Apple said. “Are you coming?”

“No, I think I'm going to head straight to my locker. I think it's about time I cleaned the thing out. It's starting to smell,” Zen said, scrunching up his nose.

“Nice!” responded Apple, shaking her head. “Okay, see you later, then.”

“Apple?” Zen said.

“Yeah?”

“You look really good today. I like the boots. They're cool. And are you wearing makeup? It looks good!”

Zen's compliments made Apple blush, and she bit her lip. She had, in fact, put a bit of makeup on before leaving the house.

“Thanks, Zen. I have to look good since I'm starting work today. I figure the least I can do is try to look like I fit in there. See you later.”

Apple practically skipped to the Spiral Staircase, where Lyon and Brooklyn were sitting. Happy wasn't there, which was odd. Usually Happy was the first one to arrive.

“Well, someone looks like she's in a good mood,” Lyon said, getting up to give Apple a hug. Apple kissed him on the mouth.

“I guess I am. It's a big day. I'm starting at
Angst
today. I have to be on my ‘A' game,” Apple joked. “As my mother says, ‘If you smile on the outside, you'll smile on the inside.'”

“Well, you'll definitely be the prettiest one there,” Lyon said. “Are you wearing makeup? You look sexy!”

For some reason, the compliment from Lyon didn't hit Apple as hard as the one from Zen.

“Yes, I'm wearing makeup. I'm not sure about being the prettiest girl there. You should see the women who work at
Angst
. It's like their DNA was all mixed together in a bowl to make only the most perfect blue or green eyes, the thickest hair, and the fittest bodies. I swear, these women are so good-looking and so put together, it's like they're aliens.”