Forever for a Year (10 page)

So Peggy's mom, Mrs. Darry, picked us up from school on Friday and drove us to soccer practice. Peggy's mom is insane, like Katherine, so I always make sure to be nice to her. Like, if you're not careful, boom! She'll just start yelling at you for rolling down the window or doing your homework in the car or something no one would ever get mad about except her. Gosh.

Anyway, after practice, Kendra and I were in the back seat and Peggy was in the front with her mom when Kendra answered a phone call from her mom.

Mrs. Darry just exploded. Like almost for real, I think: “NO CELL PHONE CALLS WHILE DRIVING! IT'S THE LAW!”

“Gotta go, Mom,” Kendra said, then hung up. She looked at me, wanting me to tell her that she'd done nothing wrong. Which she hadn't. But I couldn't open my mouth or Peggy's mom might have murdered me. Obviously it's only illegal for the driver to make cell phone calls while driving. But Mrs. Darry just likes to yell at people, so she will make up reasons to get mad. For a couple seconds, I did feel sorry for Katherine. I mean, if I had a mom like Mrs. Darry, wouldn't I be crazy too? Probably. You know, it's actually amazing Peggy is normal like me. Then I stopped feeling sorry for Katherine because she ruined my life. Then I remembered I wasn't going to say things were ruined, so I thought about what color Gatorade I would have when I got home.

After we dropped off Kendra at her house, Mrs. Darry said, “Must be nice to be rich. I'd probably think I could answer phone calls in other people's cars too.”

Neither Peggy nor I said anything. We both knew to stay out of her mom's way when she got like this. If we were in Kendra's mom's car or my mom's, Peggy and I would text about the party, but neither of us would touch our phones in front of Mrs. Darry. Oh my gosh, no.

*   *   *

Mr. and Mrs. Darry were going to leave for their timeshare condo in Wisconsin right after soccer practice, so after I got home, I took a quick shower, packed a bag, waited for Peggy to text me that her parents had left, and rode my bike over to her house.

“Carrie,” Katherine said as I walked in, “in high school, only tools ride their bikes.”

What could I say to that? I mean, nothing. Right? I just went upstairs to Peggy's room, but when I got there it wasn't just Peggy. Shannon Shunton, Emma Goldberg, and Wanda Chan were there. Wait a minute! They didn't belong here! I mean, yes, we were becoming friends, and trying to be popular, okay, but Peggy's room was like my second room and now there were these OTHER GIRLS in it! My heart just froze in my chest, and I searched for Peggy, who was bouncing on her bed in a dress that made her boobs look like cartoons, and she was giggling even though no one was saying anything. She just looked so happy to have new, cool friends, which made me so sad.

Shannon and Wanda were in their underwear—not even wearing bras!—holding up dresses to their bodies. They both were so skinny and perfect. I mean, you could see their ribs and the bones in their shoulders like models. Gosh. I would never have a body like that. Never. Why would any boy like me if there were girls like that? Emma was smoking a cigarette by the window and even though she was blowing the smoke out the window, I wanted to puke.

“What up,” Shannon said, and Wanda and Emma both said, “Hey,” and then Shannon grabbed one of the dresses that was splayed on Peggy's bed and held it up to me. “You'd look awesome in this.” She pressed it into my hands until I grabbed it. It had black-and-white stripes, and it was one thousand percent shorter and tighter than anything I had ever worn. No way would I wear it in public. No way, no way, no way. All their eyes turned to me, and I guess that meant they were waiting for me to try the dress on, but I'm like, I'm not getting undressed in front of these popular girls with their model bodies. Peggy had seen me naked a million times, but she was like a sister, and … oh my gosh, they kept looking at me. I wouldn't even be able to escape to the bathroom, and I didn't know how to talk to them or to Peggy in front of them, so I just turned a bit to the side so I wouldn't have to look them in the eyes, and I quickly, like so quickly, took off my shorts and sweatshirt and put on the dress.

“Yeah, that looks fucking awesome,” Shannon said.

“You look amazing,” Peggy said.

“Yeah,” Emma said between puffs.

“Like, really, I expected it to look like a nightmare, but yeah, you look hot,” Wanda said.

So I was terrified they were tricking me or maybe just trying to be nice, but when I finally looked in the mirror, it was, I don't know … good. Yeah. My gosh. I looked, I don't know, cute. Even … sexy? Maybe. I don't know. But I didn't look silly, which I was sure I would. You know, I have these huge calves and muscular arms and no boobs, so I didn't look like a model or Shannon Shunton, but I looked better than I thought I could look. I looked like an athlete. You know, like a soccer player, but one of the not-so-ugly ones. And everyone always says how pretty they are on TV, so maybe I could be a pretty athlete. Maybe? I don't know. My brain couldn't stop spinning, couldn't make sense of what I looked like in the mirror with what I always thought I would look like in a tight dress.

“Now put these on and walk around,” Shannon said, throwing a pair of high heels at my feet. This sounded like a simple thing until I put on the shoes and I could barely move in the dress and I was sure I would fall over after one step. But I tried anyway, and I didn't fall, but Emma giggled, and you know who laughed even louder? Peggy. This made me want to cry, but I think I had cried enough already this week to last for the rest of my life, so I didn't cry even a little. I just felt stupid, so stupid, until Shannon said, “You have to place one foot directly in front of the other, swivel the hips. It feels demented, I know, but it works. And keep your shoulders back; it will make you look like you have boobs,” and I hated her for saying I had no boobs—only I should be able to say that!—but I did what she said anyway, and then Shannon said, “Yeah, that's great. You got it. You're a rock star.”

“You're amazing!” Peggy said, and leaped up to hug me, only she fell down from her tight dress and everyone laughed at her, except me. I just helped her back to the bed. “I'm such a klutz in this!” she said, and she sounded like an airhead even though she's smart and a good athlete.

Then Shannon sat next to us and said, “You guys are cool,” and I don't know if she meant it like we were always cool and she could see it now that she was getting to know us, or as if she was deeming us cool now that we were her friends. But the weirdest thing was that I actually, oh my gosh, liked her. Like, I thought she was being really nice to me. And she found me a dress that I liked and she taught me how to walk in high heels, and, I don't know, she was amazing.

So eventually Shannon and Wanda found dresses they wanted to wear from the hundred they brought over, and then we all put on some makeup—yes, I did, okay, I don't really like makeup, but I just wanted to try new things, so I put on just a little, okay?—and then when we were all ready, I felt like we were going to walk down the red carpet at the Academy Awards, except we just walked down the stairs to Peggy's living room, which had one new brown couch, one old red couch, a glass coffee table with fake-gold legs, and a television that was probably worth more than their house.

I sat on the couch next to Shannon and Wanda, Emma leaned against the wall, and Peggy sat on the floor after she put on a fashion reality TV show. And then we waited. I felt so silly, but worse, I thought the popular girls would get bored and leave even though this is where the party was, and then, just when my leg started bouncing because I was nervous, Katherine came back home. With her were three junior girls, including Shannon's sister Elizabeth, and two senior boys, and the boys carried two big beer kegs, and all four of the girls carried plastic bags filled with bottles of vodka and tequila and maybe rum. I don't know how to recognize alcohol bottles very well.

“Don't the young'uns look smokin',” Katherine said as she walked past us, though it didn't feel like a compliment. She led all the older kids into the kitchen, and Shannon, Peggy, Wanda, and Emma followed them so I did too. I mean, I wasn't going to sit in the living room by myself, right?

 

16

Trevor meets Mr. Pain

During the team stretch before Friday's run, Coach Pasquini squatted next to me and talked. Quietly. Almost stealthily. But everyone could see him and hear him. So it was odd because the dude was odd. But, Jesus, I was starting to like him. I don't even know why. Maybe I'm odd. Whatever.

“So, Trevor Santos. My Mr. Pain. You ready?”

I nodded. Two seniors who ran cross-country just to look good on their college applications laughed at Pasquini. I tried not to look at them.

Coach said, “Every day you go out running with the lead pack. Todd placed sixth in the state meet last year. Where did you finish last year at state?”

“I was in California, and I wasn't running cross-country,” I said, feeling like a complete fool.

“There, I can see it, you feel stupid. That's you punishing yourself again. Stop it! I'm glad you weren't running last year. Because if you were, some other coach would get to feel like a genius for turning your physical gifts and stubborn-ass determination into something special. Now I'll get to take all the credit while you do all the work.” He did his grin thing, then said, “My first new rule for you. Start being nice to yourself. Got it?”

I nodded again, though I didn't really get it. How was I supposed to be nice to myself? It didn't make any goddamn sense.

He continued, “Todd's All-State. Randy and Craig were All-Conference. Everyone else in the lead pack has run for years. When you try to stay with them from the start, you hurt your body and you hurt your spirit. Setting yourself up to fail. Because you are Mr. Pain. And I know you think if Conchita, a freshman and a girl, can stay with them, you should too, but that young lady has been winning races in her age group since she was nine. She knows more about running than the rest of us jokers combined. Yeah, that includes me. I'd let her coach if I didn't need to pay for my kid to go to college. So rule two. Find runners at your level. Where it doesn't hurt fifty meters in. Perhaps, just perhaps, where you even enjoy running for a short while. Got it?”

I nodded.

“You fast?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“I know so. Even though I've never seen it because by the time you get done with the run, you're so blasted, you can barely walk, let alone kick the finish. You've got long legs and a good stride and a lot of anger. All that will make you the best miler I've ever coached, but that's track. This is a different beast. Oh yeah. Cross-country is five thousand meters. It requires strategy. Who beats you every practice?”

“Todd and Randy—”

“No. Have you been listening? They don't beat you because they are playing tennis while you're playing Ping-Pong. Maybe someday you'll be playing the same game. But you have to work your way there. Who beats you who's running the same race?”

“Aaron and Tor,” I said, motioning toward the two sophomores that passed me at the end of Monday's run and passed me sooner every practice since.

“Closer. But still out of your league.”

“Edward and Michael,” I said, pointing to the seniors that laughed at Pasquini. When they ran by me at the end of every run, Michael would say, “Crawling works too.”

“Exactly,” Coach said, then turned to the seniors, “Hey, you two, Mr. Pain here is going to run with you today.” They whispered into each other's ears and laughed. At me? At Pasquini? I don't know. Who cares? I cared. But who
should
care? No one. Pasquini leaned in close, really whispering this time. Only I could hear him. He said, “You stay on their heels. Don't think about anything else. Find a rhythm. Linger. Wait. What do you want? You want to beat them. Right. I know you do. I can see it. But linger behind them. Keep them in sight. Which means, be okay with being behind. You don't need to attack right away. Don't need to feel pain right away. Just be there. And then, when you sense the right moment, you go get what you want. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said.

*   *   *

I had been thinking about Carolina today. A lot, okay? She wore her hair in a ponytail, and as soon as I saw it in biology, all I wanted to do was run my hand through it. So cheesy. I know. And it didn't matter. We sat on the other side of class from each other now. Because I didn't like her. She didn't like me. We had nothing in common.

*   *   *

It was hard letting Todd, Craig, Randy, and Conchita run off and not trying to stay with them. Really hard. Felt weak. Felt like a waste of space. But I let them go. Settled in behind Edward and Michael. Pasquini was right. Didn't feel pain. Not the physical kind. But, man, was I bored. Tried to stop thinking about being bored, though. Tried. Edward and Michael kept talking about all the girls they wanted to have sex with, and it was obvious to me they would never talk to these girls let alone kiss them or anything else. People are so delusional.

Then I thought: Maybe I should just talk to Carolina. Just to … say I did it. That's pointless, Trevor. Shit. If she liked you, that Katherine girl would have said so. Instead, she steered you toward Peggy. Maybe go out with Peggy to get close to Carolina? Why would you do that? That's so fake. And cruel. And pointless. No.

The run was a 5K. There was no race tomorrow, so this would be our practice race for the week. About halfway through, not feeling even half as tired as I usually did, I had the urge to speed ahead. Maybe just to stop having to listen to Edward and Michael babble on. But I didn't. I lingered. Like Pasquini said. Linger until …

*   *   *