Read Better Off Friends Online

Authors: Elizabeth Eulberg

Tags: #Young Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

Better Off Friends (2 page)

BOOK: Better Off Friends
10.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Levi noticed I was looking at the
KEEP CALM AND BLIMEY ON
button on his bag. “Oh, there’s this totally rad BBC show —” he started to explain.

I could barely contain my excitement. “
Buggy and Floyd
. I love that show!”

His face lit up. “No way — nobody knows
Buggy and Floyd
. This is insane!”

It
was
insane.

Buggy and Floyd
followed the zany antics of Theodore “Buggy” Bugsy and his cousin/roommate Floyd. In pretty much every episode, Buggy got himself into some ludicrous trouble that Floyd had to rescue him from. And Floyd was always complaining about the situation, Buggy, and pretty much everything about society.

I felt a smile start to spread across my lips. “Yeah, my mom’s family lives in Ireland and I saw it when I visited them a couple summers ago. I have the DVDs at home.”

“Me too! My buddy’s dad is head of development for a production company and he was thinking about adapting it for here.”

I groaned. I hated it when a perfectly awesome show from the UK got changed for the US. Sometimes British humor did not translate and it would end up dumbed down.

“They’d totally ruin it,” Levi and I said in unison. Both of us were surprised for a second before we started laughing.

“Favorite episode?” He was leaning forward, his shoulders no longer up toward his ears.

“Oh, there are so many. The one where Floyd’s sister is about to give birth —”

“Blimey if I know where to get boiling water unless a cuppa tea counts.” Levi’s cockney accent was spot-on.

“Yes!” I slammed my hand against the tabletop.

“What’s going on over there?” Emily looked inquisitively at both of us.

“You know that British show I’ve tried to get you to watch?”


That?
” Emily shook her head at me like she always did when she found my little eccentricities amusing. She turned toward Levi. “You know about
that
?”

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s
so
funny.”

“Uh-huh.” Emily wrinkled her nose. “It’s
adorable
that you have that in common.”

“Common!” Levi crowed. “I know I ain’t the queen o’ England, but I ain’t
common
.”

This was another line from the show.

“A common nuisance, you are!” we both finished.

Emily looked at us like were aliens. Danielle seemed amused.

We talked a little more about our summers, and when it was time to go, I made sure Levi knew where he was going next. This time when he said, “See ya later,” I found myself not dreading the idea. It was pretty cool to have someone around here who didn’t like the same things as everybody else.

Emily laughed as we put our trays on the conveyer belt. “So you and your new boyfriend seem to have a lot to talk about.”

“Stop it! You know he’s not my boyfriend.”


I
know that, but everybody else in the cafeteria seemed to notice your little lovefest.”

She was probably right. People were most likely making comments about our overanimated conversation. But I really didn’t care. It would be a welcome change from everything else people had whispered behind my back over the past year.

Uncle Adam was waiting for me after school to take me home. He was always excited to see me, even if he’d dropped me off only a few hours ago.

“How was your first day?” he asked while his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“Good!” I reassured him.

“All right.” He grabbed my backpack and started walking me to his car.

Levi was getting into an SUV with a woman I assumed was his mom. He said something to her and she started to walk over to us. With some reluctance, he followed. A knot began to form tightly in my stomach. I always got defensive whenever anybody met Adam for the first time.

Uncle Adam is an amazing person and everybody in town loves him. He’s friendly, outgoing, always willing to lend a hand. But he was born with a speech deformity, so when he talks, his speech sounds a little slurred. I’m not exactly sure what it’s called, but the back of his throat doesn’t close properly, so it can be difficult to understand him sometimes.

When I was little and I asked what was wrong with Uncle Adam, Mom made it clear that there was nothing “wrong” with him, he spoke differently because of a birth defect. So I took it at face value. Then, two years ago, I was walking home from the park when these boys started asking how my “retard uncle” was doing. I yelled, “He’s not retarded, he just talks funny.” I came home in tears and told my dad what had happened. That’s when he informed me that Adam was developmentally disabled. My parents thought I already knew. But what did I know? He drives, has a job, and lives in his own house (right across the street from ours). His life isn’t really that different from ours.

I held my breath as she introduced herself to Adam and me, worried that, like some other people, she’d do something wrong. “Hi, Macallan, I’m Levi’s mother. Thank you so much for being welcoming to Levi today. It’s hard to move halfway across the country and start fresh at a new school.” She had the same long blond hair as Levi, but hers was pulled back into a high ponytail. She had on yoga pants and a hoodie. It looked like she was coming back from the gym. Even without makeup on, she was absolutely gorgeous.


Mom
,” Levi groaned, no doubt trying to prevent her from telling his whole life story.

She turned toward Adam. “And you must be her father.”

Uncle Adam grabbed her hand, and I saw her flinch slightly at his grip. “Uncle.”

“This is my uncle Adam,” I said.

“Very nice to meet you.” She gave him a warm smile as he and Levi shook hands, too. I tried to find some hesitation on Levi’s part, but it wasn’t there. He was probably more focused on getting his mom back to the car.

I found myself nervously overexplaining. “Yeah, my dad sometimes has to work late even though he owns his own construction company, so sometimes Adam leaves the hardware store to take me home.”

“Well, if you ever need us to take you home or stay with us until your dad or uncle is done, we’d be more than happy to have you.”

I stood there silently for a few seconds. I was used to Midwestern politeness, but here was a woman who’d just moved to town and I’d just met, and she was already offering her home to me. And she was doing it out of niceness, not because she knew about the accident.

“Great! Wednesdays are always hard,” Uncle Adam said before I could stop him. He usually worked from seven in the morning until two, so he could pick me up from school. Except on Wednesdays, when he had the late shift. Last year, I either stayed in the library or got a ride with Emily or Danielle after their respective after-school activities.

Levi’s mom didn’t hesitate. “Why don’t you come over on Wednesday? Only if you want.”

I glanced over at Levi, who looked at me and mouthed the words she’d just said —
only if you want
.

“Sure!” Uncle Adam agreed.

“I’ll give you my number, and Macallan’s father can call me if he has any concerns, okay?”

Levi pointed to the button on his bag, his eyebrow arching in a playful manner. I imagined us watching
Buggy and Floyd
together.

I do
, I mouthed back.

The two adults exchanged phone numbers. The negative me said Levi’s mom was doing this because she thought my uncle was unfit to look after me. The positive me said she was a nice person who wanted her son to have friends.

Or maybe she feels sorry for you
, the negative me said.

She doesn’t know
, the positive me spoke up. This wasn’t the same thing as a non-friend suddenly paying attention to you or offering a shoulder to cry on, or bringing over a casserole that was nothing your mother would have ever, ever cooked for you.

Uncle Adam and I got into his car. He always made sure I was buckled up properly before he turned on the ignition.

“Everything okay?” He looked at me intently.

“Yeah,” I said, even though I had no idea how to feel about what had just happened. I didn’t really like unexpected turns. I’d had more than my share by that point.

Adam looked so sad. “Your mother loved picking you up from school.”

I nodded, which was pretty much the only response I had whenever anybody brought her up.

A tear started trickling down his face. “You look so much like her.”

I’d been getting used to this. I loved that I looked like my mother. I had her big hazel eyes, heart-shaped face, and wavy auburn hair that turned strawberry blond in the summer.

But I was also that mirror girl, the walking reminder of what we all had lost.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and promised myself:
In fifteen minutes, you can work on algebra homework. In fifteen minutes, you’ll have a reprieve. Get through these next fifteen minutes and you’ll be fine.

Do you really think my mom offered to give you a ride out of pity?

Not anymore. Now I know your mom is the definition of incredible.

Like mother, like son.

Oh, please.

But you admit you only invited me to sit with you at lunch out of pity.

Totally.

See, you’re supposed to lie and say you wanted to hang out with me because you thought I was beyond cool.

So you want me to lie?

Um,
yeah
. Friends lie to make each other feel better. You didn’t know that?

Have I told you that you look really cute today?

Thanks, I —
Wait a second
.

I
was upset when my parents first told me we were moving to Wisconsin. Like, why did I have to totally give up my friends and my life because Dad got a big promotion? Why couldn’t we have stayed in Santa Monica, where the weather was sweet and the waves were sick?

But then I realized I could have a fresh start. I always used to be jealous when a new guy came to our school. He’d get all this attention. He was a mystery. He could be anybody. So maybe moving would be good. I’d be the stranger from a strange land. What girl could resist that?

Then I arrived.

First I was excited and nervous when the principal introduced me to Macallan, because she was pretty. Then she made it known within, like, 2.5 seconds that she had no interest in me whatsoever. You could’ve seriously given her a glass of milk and it would’ve been frozen in less than a minute. She was
that
cold.

So I figured we’d never talk again and I concentrated on the guys at school. Guys are always way more chill than girls anyway.

Right before lunch on my first day, I went up to this group of guys, introduced myself, tried to be calm, cool, and collected. But I’m pretty sure I stank of desperation. I was able to tell right away that Keith, this beast of a guy, was the alpha in our grade. He always had a group of three or four other guys around him, and they were all wearing some sort of Wisconsin team T-shirt. Keith had on a Badgers hoodie and jean shorts. He was close to five foot ten and he towered over everybody, including most of the teachers. He wasn’t skinny and he wasn’t fat; he was just big.

He studied me as I approached him, and said, “What’s your deal?” before I had a chance to introduce myself. I made some small talk and felt like I was on a job interview.

Then I made a fatal error. I should’ve known better.

I admitted to being a Chicago Bears fan.

I’m pretty sure I heard actual hissing.

I figured whatever, they’d tease me, like guys do. That was what I was expecting, hoping. Because if guys teased you, you were kinda in.

But after I grabbed my lunch, not one person would look at me when I went to sit down. They were all too busy catching up with each other to notice the new guy standing there by himself. Instead of being this person everybody wanted to know more about, it was like I had leprosy or something. I kept being told that everybody in Wisconsin was so nice, but that wasn’t the feeling I got. It was more like I was an intruder on their turf. I was only halfway through my first day and I was miserable.

Then Macallan came along.

She totally saved me from the public humiliation of having to eat alone on my first day of school. From then on, I ate with her and her friends.

At first I wasn’t sure what to make of Macallan coming over on Wednesdays after school. The second we got to my house, she opened up whatever homework she had and would sit there and study until her dad came and got her. She only lightened up when I put on
Buggy and Floyd
. After a few Wednesdays, we started talking some more.

She was pretty cool. Like awesome cool, even though she could sometimes be cold.

One Wednesday, about a month in, she had to stay longer than usual. Mom came back from the store and said, “Macallan, sweetie, your dad just called me. He’s running late, so you’re going to join us for dinner. Hope you like stir-fry.”

Macallan studied Mom from our place at the dining room table as Mom went into the kitchen and started unpacking her groceries. I tried to not laugh as Macallan’s face scrunched up. She always did that when she was studying, be it math or my mom. It was pretty adorable.

“Hey.” I tried to get Macallan’s attention back to me. “Do you wanna play a video game or something?”

“I want to finish the outline for my English paper.” She started scribbling in her notebook.

I picked up the tattered book she was reading. “
Miss Lulu Bett
?” I laughed. “You’re writing your author report on someone who wrote a book called
Miss Lulu Bett
?”

Macallan reached her hand out for the book. “Can you please be careful with that? It’s on loan from the library. It’s rare.”

I presented the book to her with both hands and a slight bow.

“And for your information, the author, Zona Gale, was born in Wisconsin and was the first woman ever awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. It wouldn’t kill you to learn a little bit about the history of where you now live.”

“Uh-huh.” That was usually my reply whenever Macallan tried to educate me on pretty much anything. I did okay in school, I got decent enough grades, but I wasn’t the ultimate student like she was.

She kept her attention on her notebook. “Who are you going to write your report on? Dr. Seuss?”

“I
do
like green eggs and ham, Mac I am.”

She grimaced. “I don’t know why I even bother sometimes.”

She pretended to get back to work, but I could see the corners of her mouth start to turn.

I cautiously picked up the book again. “Maybe I should read this. I wonder what kind of bet Miss Lulu placed.”

Macallan groaned. “Mrs. Rodgers, do you need any help with supper?”

Mom popped her head into the doorway. “That’s okay. I think I’ve got it covered.”

But Macallan got up and went into the kitchen. “Are you sure?”

“Well, if you want, you can help me cut up some vegetables.” Mom gave her a smile.

Great, does this mean I have to help?
I thought. Leave it to Macallan to make me look even more like a slacker.

Mom pulled out some green and red peppers, zucchini, and mushrooms from the grocery bag and handed Macallan the cutting board and a knife. Macallan looked between the knife and vegetables like she was trying to solve a difficult equation. She held the knife to the pepper, first one way, then another.

At one point she looked up at me, probably hoping for help. Like I had any clue about cooking. I’d almost burned our house down microwaving popcorn the past year. It had smelled like charred popcorn for over a week. I’d been wisely banned from the kitchen ever since.

“Is there a certain way you want them cut?” she asked Mom.

Mom opened her mouth and then it was like I saw a lightbulb go on over her head. She went over to Macallan and showed her the different ways to cut everything. Macallan’s green eyes were watching everything like she was gonna be graded on it.

“Thanks,” she said quietly when they were through. “There isn’t a lot of cooking at my house. Anymore.”

It was then that I realized why Macallan was enamored with Mom. It was Emily who’d told me about the car accident — Macallan hadn’t really said much about her mom to me. And I had no clue if I should’ve said something to her. Or asked. Like, what do you do in that circumstance?

Blimey if I knew.

Even though I was quickly becoming friends with Macallan and her group, I still felt like I needed some dudes in my life.

“What’s up, California?” Keith came up to me after class in early November. “How’s it hanging, bro?” But he said it like
brah
. I knew he was making fun of how I talked, but had he never heard himself? Everybody here had these nasally accents and overpronounced their vowels. I found it hilarious. “Saw you running ’round the track at gym. You’re pretty fast.”

“Thanks, man.”

I debated bragging to him that I was faster when it wasn’t so cold. Even though the snow from the first snowstorm of the year (which happened
before
Halloween) had melted, it was still freezing outside.

Part of me had already written off Keith and his group … and still I felt a little excited as Keith continued. “Yeah, maybe you could join our game sometime. Wide receiver or something. Do they even play football in La-La Land?” He laughed.

I decided to throw it right back at him. “I don’t know, man. Ever heard of this little thing called the Rose Bowl? Probably not, since the Badgers haven’t won it in years.”

“Ouch.” But Keith looked impressed.

I was a little rusty with the guy put-downs. Back in California, my buddies and I would spend hours ragging on each other, our families, the girls we liked. You name it. The bigger the put-down, the bigger the laugh. It was our own art form.

“Okay, California.” Keith nodded to himself. “I guess I’ll see you around. Don’t let those chicks start braiding your hair or doing your nails. Real men play football.”

“Yeah, totally.” We did this awkward handshake thing that made me feel even more like a tool. But hey, at least he was talking to me. That was a start.

I could tell right away that Macallan was not in a good mood after school. Mom had a meeting that was running late, so we had to walk the twenty minutes to my house. She hardly talked to me during the walk and didn’t even want to stop in Riverside Park. We always would stop in the park and goof around whenever we walked to my place. Even if it was cold out. But apparently not that day.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked her, mostly because the silence was super awkward.

She was all “Yeah, no … I don’t feel well.”

I saw her holding her stomach. I hoped she wasn’t going to blow chunks in front of me.

Once we got home, she sat there. She didn’t talk, she didn’t want to watch TV, she didn’t want anything to eat. She didn’t even crack open a book to study. That’s when I knew things were serious.

I started playing a couple video games; she silently watched from the couch. “Man, I tell you …” I looked at her and saw that she didn’t look so great. I figured there was only one thing that could put a smile on her face. “Oi!” I called out in my best cockney accent. “You gonna just sit there or you gonna help me deliver …
a baby
?” Then I pretended to faint. It was classic Buggy.

She got up suddenly and went to the bathroom.

This was the problem with being friends with a girl. They could be so complicated. Like, was I supposed to guess what was wrong? Couldn’t she give me a hint?

After I played a few more games, I realized she had been in the bathroom for an unusually long time.
Gross
. But what if she’d hit her head on the counter or something? I didn’t want to bother her, but she
had
said she wasn’t feeling well.

I approached the bathroom cautiously. “Ah, Macallan?”

“Go away!”

“Um, do you need —”

“I SAID GO AWAY!”

I was pretty sure she threw something at the door. Or she banged on the door. There was some noise that happened and it was clear she was not happy.

I didn’t know what to do. My buddies back home never locked themselves in a bathroom.

Thankfully, Mom arrived home a few minutes later. At first she gave me a questioning look when she saw me staring at the bathroom door.

“Mom, I don’t know what’s going on. She’s locked herself in there. I think she’s crying. I swear I didn’t do anything.”

Mom’s eyes got wide. “Go play video games.”

Mom was always harping on me to stop playing video games. I went back into the living room before she could change her mind.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mom emerged from the bathroom.

“What’s —”

She cut me off. “Listen, you’re not to say anything to Macallan about this, or anybody at school. Do you understand me?” I wasn’t used to her having such a harsh tone with me. “I need you to go to your room —”

BOOK: Better Off Friends
10.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dying for the Past by T. J. O'Connor
If Only We by Jessica Sankiewicz
The Sinners Club by Kate Pearce
Iron Winter (Northland 3) by Baxter, Stephen
Mother and Me by Julian Padowicz
The Murders of Richard III by Elizabeth Peters