Arizona Allspice (24 page)

She turned her face from the locker to me, feeling my eyes assessing her, and I watched her brown eyes behind her
purpley
glasses quickly lose their warmth.  

“What do you really want from me?”

“Um, to work with you on the project,” I replied. My words sounded false to my own ears. I wanted more than just homework help. I was hoping she and I would hit it off and be good
friends
. That’s what I told myself at the time. I was in denial.

“Look, I’m not some weak lamb that needs a guy to tell her she’s worth something, so can you find some other chick? I’m not like
Morghan
or Natasha or any other
chica
that goes here.”

She was using Spanish words. I liked that. “Yes. I know that.” She cut her eyes at me. “What?” I said confused, “Am I wrong for noticing that you’re not like them?”

“You’re wrong for noticing that and still having the nerve to try to use me for a simple little English project!”

I shook my head tiredly. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that it’s not like that.” I gave her a sincere look.

She blinked. “For your information, your charm doesn’t work on the intelligent.” The warning bell rang and she quickly stuffed her things into her bag and shut her locker. “I don’t have time to chat with you and I don’t have time to deal with any of you boys in this town and all your little ‘Daddy Issues’.”

My mouth went dry.
Daddy Issues?
She joined the bustle in the hallway, towards her next class. My jaw clenched and I could feel indignation rising as heat in my hands and up my neck. She wasn’t going to throw that at me and just walk away. Who told her about that? Was her mother gossiping about me or something? That was private information. I strode quickly through the busy hall towards her and planted myself in her path, causing her to stop in her tracks. “What do you know about my father?” I grilled her.

The anger in my voice didn’t register in my mind until her palms flashed up at me to maintain some distance between us. The glare she gave me didn’t show any fear, but that one protective move of putting up her hands was enough. I recoiled from her, horrified at myself, and took two steps back. I was even more stunned when she then took one and a half steps closer to me. I could smell her sweet smelling body lotion. I could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

 “You want to hit me? Do it right here where everyone can see it, you coward,” she spat.

Shame
slumped
my shoulders. “I wasn’t going to hit you. I would never do that,” I said, barely intelligible and hardly convincing.
I wanted to hit something.
But not you.

“I know you wouldn’t. Not with your loving fans around. The only thing I know about your father is that I’ve never laid eyes on him. Were you seriously going to get all ticked off and defensive over someone who obviously doesn’t matter?”

He does matter. Too damn much.
She was right. How stupid was I to stand up for the man who abandoned me? I tugged firmly and nervously at the curls at the nape of my neck as I looked anywhere but at her; at the floor, at a locker, at a trash can, the one I once threw her broken glasses in.
I wonder where she buys them. Maybe she orders them special because I had been looking around for those glasses right after I’d broken them and I couldn’t find it anywhere in town which was extremely frustrating.

“I’m not sure why I’m wasting my breath, but you in particular enjoy bothering me all the time so hopefully I can send you off with a bit of wisdom and guidance, neither of which you have, and we could make this goodbye forever.”

I even asked your mother and she didn’t know. She said you keep it a secret which made me want to find those glasses even more. I wanted to make a pilgrimage to the place and study it and, in turn, know another aspect of you.

“Joey? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Every word.
I nodded and went back to admiring her as she lectured me.
She’s actually taking time out of her day to talk to me.
Does that mean she cares a little?

“Everybody in
Merjoy
seems to have Daddy Issues. Either he’s not there or he is and doesn’t care to be. For some reason, that’s an excuse to be a jerk or a philanderer. I say what your dad does is not an excuse. I say screw him and live your life, but what do I know? I’m the one who’s getting along just fine, and yet they ask me what do I know? Obviously I know enough.”

 
Obviously.
She was living under the same roof as Mr. Roberts and she seemed more confident and in control than I was about the situation and it wasn’t even my mother to worry about.

When I found out later that Elaine actually didn’t know what was going on between her mother and her father at all, I was pissed off. I knew that if she somehow put the pieces together down the road she would feel guilty and responsible for not protecting her mother. It was best to tell her while it was happening so she wouldn’t feel like a horrible self-absorbed daughter later on.
Or to just not ever tell her.

 What is that scent she’s wearing? It’s driving me crazy. It’s sweet, but it’s not fruity. Nor is it a flowery smell. It’s sort of earthy. It’s sugary. Maybe it’s brown sugar. No, it’s honey!
Honey and vanilla or something, like in a dessert.
I bet she tastes good. Her lips would taste like a cinnamon roll. And if I kissed her right there on her neck it would taste likeWhat is she? Candy Land? No, but she looks so…delectable.

Elaine paused in the middle of her sentence then and her eyebrows went up, slight disbelief in her eyes as she realized how intently I was staring at the soft brown skin above her collar bone.

Did I say that “delectable” part out loud? No I didn’t. I can’t talk and chew on my lip at the same time. Can she tell what I’m thinking? I bet it’s written all over my face. She knows what I’m thinking! Oh no, my face is getting hot. Don’t get angry with her, Joey, she’ll never speak to you again if you do. My cheeks are getting hot, but I’m not angry, so I’m blushing. I’m blushing? What the…I haven’t blushed since, since, I don’t know! This is so not attractive. This is too embarrassing. Breathe.
Breeeathe
.

A smile began to form on her lips that made my heart jump and the next second it was gone again and she went back to serious mode. “All I’m saying is you could stand for some, no,
a lot
of improvement.”

I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. I did have a lot of baggage to work on.

“Good luck and goodbye forever,” she finished then walked away to class.

Of course it wasn’t goodbye forever. I was bothering her again two days later, after I had time to recover from it all. I pulled my hands from behind my head on the pillow and lay them across my chest. I closed my eyes because staring into the dark was making my eyes twitch. Even when I’d had all those thoughts about wanting to be with her, some dreams as well, I was in denial most of Year One. I chalked my feelings up to hormones, curiosity, and my competitive nature. It was just a simple high school crush. I was young and afraid of how serious it all felt. I was writing embarrassingly flowery poems about her, for God’s sake, and still I told myself I was just being a
hornball
. I was eager and daring that year. I bounced back from each of her little sucker punches and came back for more.

I started to worry during Year Two. The crush didn’t just go away like I’d expected. Reading every book Miss
Marna
ever mentioned Elaine had read was not just curiosity. Fantasizing about the future, family get-togethers and
all,
wasn’t just hormones. Finding myself jealous of her own twin brother because he got to hug her whenever he wanted was not just my competitive nature. I slowly admit to myself that I might
love
this girl. I felt really desperate and I didn’t like the feeling so I told myself it was admiration and a little lust mixed together. But when she would read her work aloud in our English class it got deeper. When I got a smile out of her it got deeper. Lust doesn’t get deeper. Admiration can only account for so much. It became clear to me that she was incredible. Me? I wasn’t even close.

I’d watch her talk to these two people, Village Kids, this girl and some dude who were really smart, boring, valedictorian prototypes. I’d see her talking to them in class, giving
them
the time of day. I started to question my value. Was I not smart enough, my aspirations not high enough? Was I not reserved enough?
Too much of a boisterous soccer-playing brute?
 I was an idiot jock to her and someone like Elaine didn’t have time for mediocrity. I needed to work on it, that’s all. If I wanted her I needed to step up my game.  I was frustrated about the abuse Miss
Marna
was suffering, and that Elaine was living in that environment. I wanted that man in jail. But, what kind of person would I be to want Elaine out of that violence and at the same time want her to be with me? I wasn’t exactly stable. I scared myself sometimes with my hotheaded reactions. As the years passed, I got more explosive so I never quite knew what I was capable of.

For that reason, I needed all these people to surround me in my life. If I had soccer friends, and school friends, and party friends, and I was still needed by a lot of girls in town then it meant I wasn’t so bad. People still thought I was a cool person. Lots of friends were an assurance that I was okay, so I gave my time to anyone at all. Even some people who didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. I knew that Elaine probably despised the folks I associated with. Elaine didn’t need anyone. I wanted to be like her and I was working on that. By the end of that second year nothing had changed enough for me; neither on my part nor hers. I’m not sure what I expected to achieve with no real plan and an absurd goal of becoming perfect.

 Now Year Three, on the other hand, I worked on finding any inclinations I felt to be with her and beating every last one of them to a pulp and then chaining down and locking up that desire in the cellar-like darkness behind my heart. I hated her for making me feel weak, stupid, volatile, and not good enough. If I dared use rational thought to conclude it wasn’t her fault I had low self-esteem, I would get angry with myself for defending her and take it out on an unsuspecting opponent. 

Wailing on an opponent wasn’t a release anymore. I didn’t enjoy myself on the field and I didn’t come off of it any less mad. I blamed her for ruining soccer for me. Who was she to look down her nose at my passion and my friends? I was resentful of how, without showing me a hint of fondness, she’d managed to wrap me around her little finger. Lots of bonfire parties had me on the guest list that year, the blazing fire the antithesis of what I felt for the random girl I found myself making out with. It took my mind off of things for a while, but only for a few weeks at a time. Some betraying thoughts would pop up and I’d throw a fit and stomp them back down. I spent that year running away.

I turn over onto my side and slide my hand underneath the cool pillow. I feel my hair under my cheek. Uncomfortable and annoyed, I lift my head and brush some curls away from my face before I lay back down.

Year Four was anguish. I don’t know how I came out the other side of it unbroken. I’m not so sure that I did. Elaine chose Raul that year. I’m not going to get into the list of reasons Raul wouldn’t be good for any girl, but the list of reasons he wasn’t good enough for my girl was infinitely longer. He is the poster boy for dumb, big-headed, perverted soccer jocks. How could Elaine mistake me for that and not see it was true about Raul? Raul was the opposite of who I was; thought the opposite of what I thought, looked the opposite of how I looked.

My friends probably just thought I was vain and feeling myself the way I started staring down my reflection in any available mirror. Seeing them together, it hurt more than any turndown she’d ever given me to my face. My mother told me she saw Elaine smiling with him at B’s pizza parlor. Miss
Marna
told me her daughter was happy. If Raul made her happy then so be it, I said. It’s not like I had dibs on her or something. Still, the thought of Raul’s hands all over her, man, it turned my stomach.