For the Best (8 page)

“Hey buddy,” Tanner said lowly as my large
Akita mix lifted his head from the carpet.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He slid under the covers
before I protested. He pulled me close, as I held my body stiff. He
matched our breaths. I listened to his heartbeat, steady, no longer
comforting.

I thought about Mom in the weeks leading up
to her death. I was grieving and she hadn’t even died yet, worried
about my future, scared of ending up alone. So many times during
those blurry weeks, I couldn’t sleep and would crawl into her bed
wanting to hold her if she passed, exhausted and ready for death to
take her, only to open my eyes the next morning and still hear her
heartbeat, see the sun had risen once more.

I let him sleep telling myself this would be
the last time.

Hanna

Poo and Gator were outside the French doors
begging me to let them back in but until I saw one of them at least
pee they were vanquished out there. Poo was wearing a little dog
raincoat. He needed to suck it up. Poor Gator was drenched.
Finally, I let them in and toweled them off. Wet dog fur clung to
me and my nose.

My mom loved the storms, romanticizing the
wind and rain. The howling, the sand and leaves that whipped up
against the windows, the whistling sound as the air caught and
moved through the eaves of the house. Alone those noises sounded
scary.

Tanner had left for school. I decided to
skip, sleep in solitude while a DVD played in the background. My
dreams mixed with nature’s roar outside, my shelter, and the
background chaos of the movie. In my subconscious I was under
water, the atmosphere was thick and the world swirled above just
out of reach. I was reaching out to something beyond my grasp, and
once again my mouth was full of pennies.

5 Years Earlier,
7
^th
Grade

“This sucks!” I listened to Tanner whining
about a stupid sock hop our parents had forced us into
attending.

I watched as my fellow female classmates
shimmied to modern music in poodle skirts, with both real and fake
ponytails swinging from their heads.

“Does no one notice there is a contradiction
of decades happening here?” I rhetorically asked.

The DJ was playing 90’s music yet sock hops
were supposed to be 50’s and early 60’s classics. Sometimes the
adults who tried to meddle in shaping supposed culture in our brief
experienced lives didn’t have a clue.

“Quit staring at Peyton. That’s gross.”

“Sorry, you know hormones, slight breeze,
tight sweaters warp a young boy’s mind,” he teased.

“Uuugh, we know way too much about each
other.”

“Hey, you shared with me when you got your
period and I didn’t go uuugh.”

“Not the same. Plus, I didn’t share with
you. You guessed.”

He ignored my comment. “I’ve got an idea.
Let’s sneak out of here and go grab a slice of pizza at Don’s.”

“What if we get caught?” I asked
doubtfully.

“They won’t notice. They think you and me
are the good kids that don’t need supervision. Plus, they are too
busy paying attention to Peyton and her followers getting felt up
by eighth grade guys.” He pointed at three chaperones and two
teachers clustered at various spots on the dance floor.

We went in the hall past the girls crying
against the wall because no boys were paying attention to them.
Past the geeky boys who were hiding from bullish classmates, and
slipped unnoticed out the door sticking close to the shadows out of
the illuminating lights.

We walked the dirt path that led to the
baseball fields, and crossed the street, ran one block in freed
exhilaration and entered Don’s laughing. Unfortunately, we were not
the only anti-sock hoppers that had ditched the dance. We took two
silver tractor seat stools at the counter and watched the employees
flip the pies. One boy kneading dough smiled at me.

“You want something?” the smiler asked.

I flushed a little bit. I always found it
hard to talk to boys other than Tanner, and of course, Trevor. For
me, nothing was more difficult than talking to an older boy.

“Yeah, two diet colas and two slices of deep
dish with spinach,” Tanner answered for me rolling his eyes at my
inability to speak. “Geez, these guys need to register as sex
offenders. What are they staring at? You have bumps, nothing like
Peyton. Can’t they tell you’re thirteen?”

“Thanks,” I mumbled dejectedly.

“Plus, they hurt my male ego by ignoring my
presence as your escort,” he joked.

“They think we are brother and sister
because we look alike.”

“I get that. That’s why you need to color
your hair blonde.”

“No way. I am not a blonde.” I gave a shy
smile to the boy who put our drinks and plates of pizza before us.
I snuck a look at his name on our tab he left beside Tanner.

“Yep, scratch that. Blonde will make these
pedophiles notice you more. Go Goth, maybe deep purple.”

“Sorry, not happening.”

Tanner shrugged and bit into his slice. We
sat there silently eating, watching our classmates migrate from
table to table. I reached across Tanner and grabbed the check. I
left the amount plus a tip under my glass.

As we walked back, Tanner was baiting me,
“You left a generous tip.”

“I do my part for the economy.”

“Yeah, right.” I could hear footsteps
approaching behind us and I turned to see some eighth grade boys
catching up. Soon we were absorbed as they walked around us.

“Where are you two headed?” asked an
upperclassman coming up on Tanner’s left. Another kid fell in step
beside me on my right. I looked up at his grinning pimply face and
wanted to tell him how Mom had shown me if you put toothpaste on
your pimples before bed they dried up by morning. I kept my mouth
shut instead.

“Back to that lame dance,” Tanner responded
not as confident as he usually was.

The kid put his arm around me. Shrugging it
off, I reached for Tanner’s hand and picked up my pace. I could see
the lights reflecting off of the stark beige brick of uninspired
architecture that was our junior high. We all halted as two
teachers standing at the front door came into view. Maybe we had
snuck out unnoticed, but we weren’t getting back in that way.

I pulled Tanner away from the group and we
disappeared in the darkness back down to the path leading to the
baseball fields. “Let’s wait until the teacher disappears. Soon
your mom will be here to pick us up.”

We walked over to the bleachers and sat in
the far corner watching cars enter the curved drive. We had the
perfect vantage point to watch for his mom’s car.

“Those guys never talked to me before. Why
now?” Tanner complained.

“Why would you want them to? They’re
gross.”

He shrugged. Out of the corner of my eye, I
could see someone in the dugouts. I heard Peyton’s giggle.

“You think Peyton’s playing the lipstick
game with more than one guy over there?” Tanner asked.

“Yuck, I don’t want to think about it. You
thinking about going over there?” I taunted.

“Hell, no, that girl is probably spreading
thrush and herpes with her mouth as we speak.” We both laughed.

“Here they come back,” I whispered seeing
the same group headed our way.

He took a second and then said, “If they see
us kiss maybe they will lose interest in you.” He placed his cold,
chapped lips upon my mouth.

I giggled. “You taste like pepperoni.”

“Yeah, well you smell like spicy marinara.”
He laughed.

We pursed lips, held together without
movement until the boys gave up.

Tanner

When we were young, we were inseparable –
me, her and Trevor. We used to think when we got settled we’d buy a
house and Trev could come live with us.

Thinking of Trevor made me remember his last
birthday. It had only been a couple of months after her mom died.
The theme was
SpongeBob SquarePants
. We all
stood around Trevor as he blew out twenty candles. The yellow icing
that made up SpongeBob had started melting because Trev insisted
the candles be relit three times.

Hanna stood beside me laughing with Trevor
as he opened toy after toy. Actually being a friend to Trev not
just coming out of some sense of duty like the other kids we’d
grown up with who attended.

I looked over at the adults: a couple of
aunts, my parents. None of them loved Trev as much as Hanna. When
he opened my present, the latest Harry Potter book he lit up in
excitement.

“Hanna, are you going to read to me?”

“Yeah, if it doesn’t get too scary. There’s
a lot of magic in that book.”

Trevor’s eyes got all big. I watched Mom
wipe icing from the corner of his mouth as if she was embarrassed
by him.

“Why don’t you kids go downstairs and watch
one of Trevor’s new DVDs?” There was a resignation in her voice,
the sad knowledge that her oldest child had just aged past his
teenage years and would never be independent.

Downstairs I took over the hostess duties.
“Okay Trev, it’s your day what do you want to watch?” Like a deck
of cards I fanned out several G rated DVDs.

“Hanna promised we’d do the dance!” Trevor
exclaimed bouncing up and down from a sagging spot on the abused
couch.

I glanced at Hanna. We both knew what he was
talking about. “Do you have the song?” I asked.

“Yeah, I keep it on my MP3.”

“You don’t need to indulge his every
birthday wish, Hanna. You act like he’s your boyfriend or
something,” Peyton jabbed.

I looked from her to Hanna sensing Peyton’s
jealousy. She’d spent most of the time trying to command my
attention. Since we’d come downstairs I’d noticed her fluctuating
between scowls and eye rolls.

Then Hanna said in a mocking voice, “Peyton,
just because you don’t have rhythm unless you are on your back
doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t have some fun.”

I froze.
Could have been Hanna’s insult
was based on the fact that most of the school considered Peyton a
slut.
Hanna may have realized I was fucking Peyton. I watched
on pins and needles as Hanna began rummaging in her purse for her
MP3 and placed it in the docking station.

Without further explanation or accusations,
she grabbed Trev’s hands and yanked on mine to join in.
“Ready?”

The three of us got into formation. Somewhat
in sync we performed that less than stellar choreography we’d made
up in elementary school. We sang along, pretty much nailing it
until Trev hit a high note he was incapable of belting out. Hanna
doubled over in laughter, which only prompted Trev to outdo himself
on the chorus.

Peyton verbally retaliated, “I took video.
You know to dispel any myths out there. Maybe the stills from this
can actually end up in the yearbook.”

You could see Hanna shut down immediately.
She walked back to the docking station at the stereo letting her
hair fall forward across her blood rushed face.

Here were two of the girls I was screwing.
Only one of them meant a damn to me. Without hesitation, I slid my
arms around Hanna’s waist, whispering, “You are the best.”

Trev heard, started jumping up and down.
“Hanna won. Tanner said she’s the best.”

Not long after that Trev was sent to the
group home.

Hanna

Tanner’s, my previous, graduating class was
relatively small being private and all. Less than a hundred kids
filled almost ten rows with their parents flanking in opposing
seats like a box. Trevor and I sat up in the bleachers while his
mom and dad took a spot closer to the ground.

Each student’s name was called. People I
hated accepted their diplomas amid applause and shouts of
celebration. I heard Tanner’s name followed by the loud baritone of
Trevor whooping for his brother. His parents rose as if their
youngest son was worthy of a standing ovation. After all graduates
were recognized, Tanner went to the podium. My mind blanked and I
tuned him out to focus on Peyton blowing him a kiss up on
stage.

Refocusing, the astonishment over the words
Tanner had chosen to use in closing his valedictorian speech became
excruciatingly clear. “Someday we’ll all look back on high school
and those insignificant events that seemed so monumental then will
just be vague memories. We’ll see and meet each other in the
grocery and maybe won’t recall each other’s names. However, right
now, right here etch this moment forever into your minds. We are
the graduating class of Sacred Academy…be loud, stand proud, and
turn those tassels!”

Tassels were turned. Caps were thrown.
Congratulations were bestowed. I stayed seated, waiting, knowing
the time had come.

When we pulled up to the graduation party,
the worry spread and the excuse to beg off was on the tip of my
tongue. Yet there I was accompanying the man who considered himself
my boyfriend to a place where people would judge me based on an
event I’d had no knowledge of.

Tanner was ecstatic, and rightly so. He had
completed twelve years of education. He was about to embark on four
more to come. Maybe sensing I wasn’t feeling the celebratory mood,
he leaned across to my side of the car and finger touched my
metallic white ribbon cardigan. His hand moved, splaying across my
silver t-shirt underneath. “You look amazing.” He nuzzled my
neck.

Goosebumps rose across my flesh. The anxiety
grew exponentially as he took my hand and led me into the home of
one of my former classmates. I immediately focused on the previous
year’s graduates, the judges.

Tanner actually nodded, acknowledging them
as he possessively cast his arm around me his hand coming to rest
on my hip and steered me away.