Aspen (26 page)

“What happened?” I ask.

“I wanted to make him dinner last night, so I went to the grocery store and bought a frozen lasagna.” Ninny wipes tears from her cheeks. “When Salvador saw it, he got pissed. He asked if I got it out of the Dumpster, and I said no. He said that I needed to respect his freegan lifestyle and not bring wasteful, commercialized garbage into his house. I laughed and said
he’s
the one who eats freegan
garbage
, not me. That’s when he told me to leave.” Ninny’s shoulders slump and she starts to cry again.

We sit nestled next to each other on the floor at Shakedown Street for a long while as Ninny gets it all out. I hug her, petting her cheek and clearing away fresh tears. She’s clearly upset but at least she showed up for work, which is a positive sign.

“I’m sure he’s regretting it today,” I say.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually Ninny sits up straighter. “He better,” she says through clenched teeth. “Who does Salvador think he is?”

“A freegan, I guess.”

“Well, he’s freegan crazy to let go of this.” She wipes her cheeks with her damp sleeve. Slowly, a resolved look grows on her face. Ninny stands up, pulling her V-neck shirt down lower so her cleavage pops out. “You know what I need?”

“I hope whatever you say is legal.”

“A distraction. I’m going to Whole Foods later. I need some organic meat.”

“Organic meat.” I shrug. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Like Salvador is the only man in Boulder.” Ninny looks at herself in a metal cup, like she’s giving herself a pep talk.

“That’s the spirit, Mom.”

Ninny turns to me. “By the way, where were you last night?”

I turn away from Ninny and stuff an empty napkin dispenser with paper napkins. “I spent the night at Cass’s since we didn’t see each other New Year’s Eve.”

“I hope Ben’s not jealous.” Ninny rummages around in her gigantic purse. My stomach flip-flops. She pulls out a tube of red lipstick and applies a generous layer, checking her reflection in the metal blender cup. “I should wear my ‘Namaste’ shirt tonight.”

“What?” I ask.

“To Whole Foods.”

“Right. Organic meat.”

“Are you okay, baby?” Ninny sets the cup down on the counter.

“Yeah.” I try to sound indifferent.

She comes over to me and tucks my hair behind my ears. “So how
was
the party? Did you kiss anyone at midnight?”

“It was fine,” I say quickly without making eye contact.

“And . . . ” Ninny’s eyes get big.

“And what?”

“Did you kiss anyone?”

“No,” I say with an annoyed edge, how a teenager is supposed to when her mom asks about kissing boys. It sound disingenuous coming from me. From the quizzical look on Ninny’s face, she notices.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asks.

I busy myself by grabbing a rag and a bucket of soapy water to wipe down the tables. “I’m fine.”

She grabs my in a hug, squeezing me tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.” Ninny kisses my forehead.

“Definitely wear your ‘Namaste’ shirt,” I say.

“Works every time.” Ninny smiles and blows me a kiss with bright red lips.

“It better work,” I mutter to myself. I can’t have Ninny checking out of her life again.

To keep my mind busy, I scrub Shakedown Street until it sparkles. I clean behind the refrigerator and the gigantic box freezer, and even scour the bathrooms until they’re spotless. My hands are red and my knuckles are cracking, they’re so dry.

Ninny goes home early to get ready for her night at Whole Foods, leaving me to close Shakedown Street alone.

“Wish me luck.” She crosses her fingers and kisses me on the forehead.

As I’m about to wipe down the tables and clean the glasses for the night, Suzy walks in the front door.

“I’ve let this go for a day, but I need answers.” Suzy purses her lips at me.

“Answers?”

“Did you kiss Ben on New Year’s Eve or what?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and nod. Suzy squeals and jumps to hug me. “How do you know?” I ask into her shoulder.

Suzy rolls her eyes. “Olivia and Claire said they saw you.”

I sit down in a chair, tired. Suzy pulls up the seat next to me.

“Don’t worry about them. They suck. You and Ben deserve this.”

“Why do we
deserve
it?”

Suzy sits back in her seat. She exhales a long breath and then says, “Because Katelyn could be a bitch, and she treated Ben like shit. There. I said it.”

“I thought you said Katelyn was like ‘the best drunk of your life.’”

“Well, sometimes drunks are assholes. And sometimes they’re fun.”

“Is that why you don’t comment on her pictures on Facebook?” I ask.

Suzy looks down at the scar on her hand. “I don’t comment because it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“But she was your best friend.”

“Exactly,” Suzy says. “And the people on Facebook are her ‘friends.’ They can have their Katelyn and I can have mine.” She stands up, pulling her car key out of her purse. “Can I drive you home?”

The dangly crystal ball keychain catches the light. The flash makes my eyes hurt.

“That’s okay.” I rub my eyeballs with my palms. “I have to close up.”

I don’t move after Suzy leaves. I just sit still as the Phish Pandora station plays over the speakers, filling the silence.

When I walk out the back door into the cold January darkness, I pull a rag from the back pocket of my jeans and stop still. I forgot to wipe down the tables. I’ve never forgotten to wipe down the tables.

An empty can rolls down the alley, banging along the cement. My heart jumps into my throat at the sound.

I squeeze the rag in my hand until my knuckles turn white and then toss it into the Dumpster.

It hits me: I had sex with Ben Tyler.

I pick up the house phone and dial Ben’s number. I hang up before it starts to ring.

It’s dark in the kitchen. It’s dark outside.

A stranger’s jacket and messenger bag sit on the counter. Two pins are attached:
I like mainstream because hating mainstream would be too mainstream
and
Composting = Compassion
. Ninny’s organic meat from Whole Foods.

I dial Ben’s number again. I hang up.

It’s three in the morning.

I take everything out of the fridge and clean the inside. I put everything back.

I pick up the phone and listen to the dial tone.

But she doesn’t go away.

Katelyn just stands in the corner screaming.

“A-hole. Wake up.” Kim pokes my side with a plastic fork. I pick my head off the table at Moe’s. A napkin sticks to my face and Kim peels it off my cheek.

“Dude, you fell asleep in your food,” Cass says.

I yawn and arch back. Every knuckle on my hands is cracked. Dried blood sits in the crevasses. I can smell in my hair the lemon cleaning product I used last night.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really tired.”

“Are you pregnant?” He wags his finger at me. “I gave you those condoms for a reason.”

I punch him in the arm. He almost falls out of his seat.

“I have an announcement,” Kim says.

“Oh, God. You’re pregnant, and Jason is the father.”

“I’m gonna kick you in the balls. No, ass hat, I’m not pregnant. I got into Stanford early admission,” Kim says. “I found out a few weeks ago, but it just didn’t seem real until now.”

Cass and I sit frozen. Now I want to kick something in the balls. Namely Stanford.

“Well, duh. Of course you got in,” I say, sipping my water to cover the frown on my face.

“Don’t. Don’t fake being happy. I’m not fucking happy. I’m fucking sad. I’m fucking overwhelmed. I’m fucking—”

“You’re fucked,” Cass says.

Kim plops her head down on the table. “And Uma’s over the moon. ‘I knew you could do it. I so proud. Both my girls in big American college.’” Kim groans and puts her head in her hands. I rub her back, but really wish I could lay my head down with her and sob.

“You’ll be home for Christmas and in the summer,” I say. It’s hard to push the words out.

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

I do know it.

The rest of lunch is silent, except for the light ringing of fatigue in my ears. As we walk out of Moe’s, Kim pulls me aside. “Are you still not sleeping well?”

I shake my head. The ringing gets louder.

She snaps her fingers, her face bright. The sound is like a needle through my eyeball. “What about seeing a hypnotist?”

“Am I talking to my best friend or Ninny?” I ask as I put on a pair of sunglasses. It’s always so damn sunny here.

“I’m serious. Uma saw a hypnotist to quit smoking.”

“Uma smoked?”

“Like a fucking pack-a-day when I was little. But then she went to some hypnotist and they, like, I don’t know, made her forget that she liked cigarettes or something. She hasn’t touched one since. Maybe they can help you sleep.”

“I don’t think a hypnotist will help.” An exorcist, maybe, I think to myself.

“What about Dr. Brenda? You’re still seeing her, right?” Kim asks.

“Yeah.” I walk faster so she can’t see my face. “Good idea. I’ll ask her.”

Kim grabs my arm to slow me down. “We’re still going to be best friends when I’m at Stanford, right?”

My stomach hits the pavement. I adjust my sunglasses and blink away the water collecting in my eyes. “Of course,” I whisper.

Kim wraps me in a hug. I press my nose into her hair and smell her coconut shampoo. I might buy a bottle just to have around when she’s gone next year. “So, we haven’t talked about Tom’s party. Did anything happen?” she asks in my ear.

My throat closes. I wrap my fingers tighter around Kim’s jacket, and I feel my dry knuckles split open.

“No,” I say.

I walk into physics with my sunglasses still on. The pain behind my eyeballs won’t go away. Everyone stares at me. For, I’m sure, a list of reasons. I try not to care. I really try. But the heartbeat in my ears tells me I’m doing a bad job of it.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks.

“Kim’s going to Stanford.”

“That’s great.”

“And my head hurts.”

“That’s not great.” Ben runs his hand over the top of my head, lightly pulling on one of my curls.

Him touching me is the only good thing that’s happened today.

He rubs my shoulders as Mr. Salmon walks around the classroom passing out our new assignment. Joey Roscoe leans back to hand me a stack of papers and says, “Here, Katelyn.”

Ben’s hands drop from me. I sit up in my seat, the papers cascading to the ground.

“What did you say?” Ben’s voice is flat.

“I mean Aspen.
Aspen
.” Joey smiles with exaggeration. The entire class looks at us. Even Mr. Salmon. For a moment, no one moves.

I bend down to grab the dropped papers. A metallic smell hits my nose. Fresh blood seeps out from one of the cracks in my knuckles. I quickly wipe it on my jeans. The smell doesn’t go away.

When I stand up, Katelyn sits in one of the empty seats across the room. She quietly screams, like her voice is choked in her throat. I press on my forehead, right on top of my scar.

“
Is there anything you want tell us? Anything we should know
?” Mr. Salmon seems to say. But his lips don’t move. And he sounds like Officer Hubert.

Katelyn keeps screaming. The papers rattle in my hand.

“Can I go to the nurse?” I ask Mr. Salmon. “I have a headache.”

When he nods, I rush out of class and down the hallway to the bathroom. Locking myself in the stall, I bend over and gasp for breath. For a second I think I might pass out, right here on the bathroom floor.

I sit on the toilet a moment before my knees give out, and put my head down. When I finally gather the energy to walk out of the bathroom, I find Ben pacing back and forth in the hallway.

“Is everything okay?” He grabs my face between his hands. “Aspen, you have to tell me if something is wrong.” Ben’s voice is panicked. His eyes search my face like he’s trying to memorize me.

“It’s just a migraine. They make me nauseated.” The words slide out of my mouth naturally. “I think I’m gonna go home.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“I’ve made this mistake before, and I’m not doing it again. I’m coming.”

I pull back from Ben. “What mistake?”

“I’ve lost two people already, Aspen,” he says, moving to hold me again. “I’m not losing you.”

We get two steps into my house and Ben is on me, covering me with his hands and lips. It makes the pain in my head disappear. But when we climb back onto my bed and Ben goes to take my shirt off, I push him back.