Chris Wakes Up (7 page)

“I wish someone woulda told me I had to be up early,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Missy. I’ll tell Josie to try and schedule her sickness in advance from now on so Princess Noella’s not inconvenienced.” 

Princess Noella?!
She hated when he said crap like that. She was about as far as you could be from a princess, especially given all the rich, stuck-up snobs in her school.
Those girls are princesses! 

Randy’s voice cracked into a laugh. “Get up, giddy-up, and get in the shower. No one was ever around to wake me and I learned to unbury my head from the covers just fine. Five minutes is more than enough time. It’s not like you’ve got more than four outfits. Pick one, rub some Teen Spirit on your stink patches, and get downstairs before I turn the engine.”

“10 minutes, Randy.” Noella growled. “You’re telling me you couldn’t have given me 10 minutes?”

Anger flashed on his face and his voice went electric. “Excuse me? Is that how you talk to someone offering to do something nice for you? Sheesh, kids today are so ungrateful!”

Noella stared at Randy, holding his eyes and making him gaze into the hate she could never voice. Sometimes, she wished he would just hit her, so maybe Josie would wake up and see what a jerk he was. But Randy had been too cool to ever let his anger get that out of hand. He somehow managed to snow Josie over, balancing his verbal abuse evenly with this charm, but Noella could see, maybe even feel, the monster lurking below, the monster that fed on their misery and drank theirs like a drunk in an alley. Between his erratic mood swings, obsessive compulsive attention to detail, and penchant for ruling the roost like a prison warden, their lives always revolved around not doing anything to set Randy off. It was like constantly walking on a carpet of eggshells. And for some reason this morning, she felt like dancing all over them and cracking them to powder, just to see if she could push him over the edge.

His flash of anger vanished, replaced by a wide, faux smile barely masking his contempt. “Well, you
could
just take the bus,” he said, his smile a hook, waiting to see what it might catch. 

“You
know
I don’t like to take the bus,” Noella said.

“That’s your fault. You just need to learn how to stand up to those bitches. Problem with you, Noella, other than your questionable wardrobe of funeral attire, is that you let life happen. Girls ain’t gonna pick on you if you do something to change it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Noella said. “What do you know about what I’ve gotta put up with?”

“Oh, right,” Randy sarcastically nodded. “What do
I
know? I’m just a deputy. What would I know about handling violent people? Take the bus, and learn to stand up for yourself. Otherwise bullies are gonna be pushing you around forever. Mark my words, Missy.”

Missy
... another one of the things he said which had a way of crawling under her skin  and burrowing into her brain.

“Fine, I’ll take the bus,” Noella said to the biggest bully she knew.

It was just as well. The girls on the bus were cruel, but at least the trip was short. Going to school with frizzy hair and feeling funky was not an option. She’d rather put up with a few minutes of catty crap than feel like crap all day. Besides, the girls on the bus were in the minor leagues when it came to her list of enemies. Her real enemies were far too popular to ever be caught dead on the bus. They either took new cars their parents got them, or rode with their boyfriends (in cars bought by the his parents). So maybe the bus wasn’t as bad as she remembered.

“Well then, I’m outta here,” Randy said. “Remember, if you kill one of the girls, I’ll have to arrest you, but I promise you won’t get grounded at home. So try and keep it to fists and hair pulling, eh?” Randy winked, then disappeared down the stairs and out the front door.

Noella rolled her eyes and shut her door, his Old Spice still lingering in her nostrils.

**

Noella showered and then texted Mako to let her know she would be joining her on the bus today. They didn’t get to see much of each other this year, since they only shared one class, so that would be cool. Noella checked in on Josie long enough to see her shape buried under the covers, and then raced from the house. The morning air was crisp and cold. Dark clouds hung over the street as if they’d been waiting for her to step outside.

God, it better not rain... or snow.

She considered going back inside to get her umbrella, but sometimes the bus liked to come early, so she locked the door instead. She turned around and stopped cold, surprised to see an extra long green and yellow moving truck blocking the house across the street, the one that had been vacant ever since her best friend Sam,moved a half mile away last summer.

As though she had all the time in the world, Noella trotted across the street, then peeked around the back of the truck. It was locked up tight. By the looks of it, the house was, too. But the “For Sale” sign was gone, so someone was definitely moving into the place. She hoped it would be someone cool, though odds of that happening seemed pretty remote. In fact, other than Sam, fate had a rather dark sense of humor when it came to choosing her neighbors. Her block sometimes seemed like a Who’s Who of Weird, from the old man who liked to walk outside in nothing but his underwear, to the militant nut-job that always gave her the stink-eye and yelled racist comments at people who walked on his lawn, to the “family” that she was pretty sure was running a meth lab, to the creepy guy who seemed waaaay too interested in everyone’s business, she was glad she didn’t have to spend a lot of time outdoors. 

And then there were the kids.

Kids around here, with the exception of her two friends, were either popular rich kids who looked down on anyone different than them, or testosterone-pumped steroid cases with raging homophobia. And in some cases, you got the worst of both worlds, steroid-case rich kids. While there were other groups, the artsy hipsters, the rockers, the emos and goths, the nerds, and a few other groups, she didn’t really fit in with any of them. Though most people looked at her and thought
goth chick
, she never really fit in with them, either.

Noella was truly a unique freak, not belonging or fitting in with any group. Alone, as she’d always been. And most days she liked it. But her birthday was not one of those days.

Noella looked up and saw Mako at the end of the block, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Come on!” she said.

“Sorry!” Noella yelled, throwing her arms around her in a big hug.  

Most days felt like a reunion. Noella and Mako rarely saw one another outside school. Randy was a jerk, and yanked the leash whenever he could, but the real problem was that Mako’s parents were ridiculously strict, even for old school Japanese parents. Most days, Mako could only leave the house for school or violin practice. Even though she and Noella lived just one block apart, Noella had only been past her front door a few times. 

Mako was a near slave to her violin, with 12 hours of practice per week, and a quarterly performance to prove the time, and money, was well-spent. She played like an angel, but half the time hated it like the devil, and played like she was trying to prove it. Mako called her style,
Violince.
Of course, she never dared to play like that for her parents, or they would freak the frick out out.

Violince
sounded like its name, violent strings, but there was a desperate, elegant beauty to Mako’s playing that made Noella want to happy cry.

“So how’s it going on your
almost birthday
,” Mako asked. 

“Josie’s sick, and Randy was a jerk this morning.”

“Is your aunt too sick to celebrate tomorrow?”

Noella shook her head. “I dunno, she was under the covers when I left. She never stays home, so I’m guessing she’s feeling super crappy.”

Mako nodded. “Ah, that’s why you’re riding the bus. And here I thought you just wanted my company.”

“Yup, that and I wanted to see if there were new developments in peer humiliation since the last time I took advantage of the district’s transportation.”

Mako laughed. “So are you doing anything tomorrow? Have any plans, other than taking care of your aunt?”

“Probably gonna stare at the wall for a few hours,” Noella said with a grin. “You know how I am on my birthday. And besides, tomorrow is 10 years since …” Noella trailed off, not wanting, or needing, to finish the sentence. Mako knew Noella as well as anyone could.

“What about Sam?” Mako asked. “Maybe the two of you could do something together? Maybe you can finally ask him out. You don’t have to wait for the boy to ask, ya’ know?” 

“Shut. Up,” Noella said, shooting daggers at Mako. “I don’t like him like
that
.”

Mako laughed.

Noella wished her heart didn’t beat faster every time she was around Sam. She hated crushing on her best friend. It made for way too many awkward moments. But the longer she knew him, the more she felt for him. In a world of jerks, jocks, and creepers, Sam was like no other guy she knew.

First, he was cute, with a light complexion and a thick mop of long brown hair that matched his eyes. He wasn’t exactly a hottie, but he had the cutest dimples, kindest smile, and the best insides of anyone she knew. Sam was also artistic, with an eye for color that made Noella long to know the world through someone else’s eyes. And to round out the package, he was also funny, hysterical really, with a wry, observational wit that made Noella sigh. 

The most unbelievable thing about Sam, however, was that despite being a nice guy, and incredibly smart and talented, he was also semi-popular. Guys as authentic as Sam weren’t generally popular, at least not in her school. Usually, being popular involved some kind of brain transplant with chimps. And not even the smart chimps, but rather the ones that spent their days flinging poop. 

Noella was sure Sam would’ve been one of the school’s crowned elite if not for the completely ridiculous whispers that he might be gay. While his questionable sexuality didn’t hurt him in drama club, where he really shined, there was a strong undercurrent of homophobia and racism among the most popular guys. If they ever found reason to believe Sam was gay, he’d be an outcast just like Noella in a matter of hours.

Thinking of Sam made her smile a big, goofy grin. And a big, goofy grin was as out of place on Noella as it would be on Eeyore. 

Mako caught the grin, and laughed, “Yeah, you don’t like him at all.”

“No!” Noella said, lying to Mako and herself.

Not liking Sam would be infinitely easier in the long run. She’d feel less awkward. She’d feel less vulnerable. And it would remove the constant question in the back of her head:
When will Sam leave me?

She would never voice the fear out loud, but a small part of her was certain that Sam would eventually grow even more popular and turn his back on her just like Becca had done. And it was this part of her, the fear, that made her sorta glad people thought he was gay. After all, if he climbed too high up the social ladder, he’d  no longer have time for her. She felt awful thinking like that, but couldn’t help her genuine feelings.

The bus pulled to the curb, and Noella and Mako climbed up the stairs. As they searched for seats, hisses and whispers snaked throughout the bus.

“Lesbos.”

“Who let her out of the psych ward?”

“She’s nuttier than an Almond Joy.” 

“Oh, look, Scarella crawled out of her coffin.”

As she and Mako found a seat toward the front of the bus, pretending not to hear the venim, Noella realized she was wrong. She would much rather go to school feeling like a vagrant, with frizzy hair and a layer of filth, even being driven by Randy. 

Almost anything was better than the girls on the bus. 

**

Noella opened her locker and pulled her Biology AP book from inside, then dropped it into her black battered book bag, which she swung over her shoulder. She slammed her locker shut, pretending she was doing so on one of the bus bitch’s heads. 

Sam appeared from behind, “You seem mad.”

Noella looked back, surprised to see him. “Not mad,” she said, “just sadly angry.”

“Ah, didn’t notice the distinction,” Sam said with a smile.

His charm won over her desire to stay in a bad mood. 

Noella laughed. “Besides, I don’t do mad. I’m a happy, smiley girl. All sunshine and rainbows.”

Sam looked at the patches adorning her backpack, skulls, broken hearts with razor blades, monsters, and other cool designs she’d gathered over the years, and arched an eyebrow and laughed.

God, I love his smile.

Sam said, “Do you have birthday plans for tomorrow?”

Noella shook her head, “Not that I know of. Why?” 

“Wanna go somewhere? My treat, and I promise not to make you look at any of my drawings, either. We could do a movie and dinner. I’ll even let you drag me to that godawful chick flick that just came out.”

“I love your drawings,” Noella said. “That’s your own insecurities. But a movie sounds awesome, and because it’s my birthday, that means you
have
to pick!” She tingled at the thought of even a half-date with Sam. He probably didn’t like her in the same way that she liked him, not with Becca and the rest of the gaggle fawning over him all the time. 

But what if he does? 

There probably wasn’t a better day on the calendar than her birthday to find out. If she made a fool of herself, she could at least blame it on the sappiness of her birthday or something.

“Cool,” he said. “Do you want to leave right from school? I already asked if I can borrow the car.”

Oh wow! He even planned in advance!

Her heart started to flutter, and she tried to keep it from pasting a stupid smile on her face.

“I’ll let you know. Gotta check with my aunt, make sure she didn’t plan dinner or anything. If so, we’ll have to just do the movie.”