Live Through This (3 page)

At the dinner table, I spoon my big brother’s homemade salsa onto my tacos, while wanting more than anything to reach across the table to knock my little brothers’ brown-haired heads together.

“It just doesn’t add up,” Zach says loudly. “I still don’t believe it. I
refuse
to believe it.”

“It happened,” Jacob says even louder. “You saw it. Get over it.”

“But Anakin wouldn’t turn to the Dark Side of the Force. Not the way they showed it. I think they made a mistake.”

“It doesn’t matter what
you
think,” says Jacob. “The people who made the movies got to decide. You can’t change it.”

Tony sets his margarita at the head of the table and takes his seat. “Sure he can. It’s called ‘fan fiction,’ right?”

“Hey, guys?” Mom says, coming in from the kitchen. “I’m ready to enjoy a relaxing meal. Which means that effective immediately, two mouths are going to zip it about
Star Wars
.
Capisce?
”

Tony chuckles. “Which two? Because I’m interested in hearing Zach’s ideas.”

At the end of the table beside me, Bryan gives me a kill-me-now look from under his blond, bedhead hair. I push the salsa his way and hand him the spoon. Bryan and his girlfriend broke up right before the start of their winter break. He arrived home this week from college as the most depressed, making-all-of-our-lives-miserable version of himself imaginable.

Mom pulls out the empty chair between Emma and me. “I’m sure Zach has great thoughts, honey,” she says to Tony as she sits, “and you can ask him all about it after dinner. Nicole, what time do you need to go to your sleepover tonight?”

Other than a few of my teachers, Mom is the only person who uses my real first name. She says that if she’d wanted to call me “Coley,” that’s what she would have put on my birth certificate.

“I’m fine for whenever you’re ready to drop me off,” I tell her. “I think everyone else who is going went straight after practice.”

“Well, la-di-da,” Jacob says.

I bite into my taco without responding. It isn’t worth it.

“What happened to your neck?” Mom asks me.

I resist the urge to cover it as I finish chewing. “My curling iron fell out of my hand.”

She leans in for a closer look. “Good grief. You need to put some burn gel on that. And when it scabs over, you better make sure not to pick at it or you’ll give yourself a scar.”

“Mom, I’m not going to pick at it.”

“Let me see, Coley,” Emma says.

“Why?”

She gives a big shrug and her blond curls bounce.

I lean in and tilt my head to expose the side of my neck for a couple of seconds—it’s easier than making a thing out of it—but I can’t bring myself to look anywhere except at my plate while I’m doing so.

“Does it hurt?” Emma asks.

“I can’t even feel it.”

“Yuck,” Zach says. “I bet that burn’s going to turn all blistered and super pus-y.”

“Yuck,” Jacob says. “Zach said, ‘super pussy.’ ”

Emma laughs.

“I said, ‘
pus
-y!’ ” says Zach.

Mom scoops refried beans onto her plate. “Watch your mouths, all of you.”

“I can’t,” Jacob says, pulling on his lips. “My mouth isn’t big enough.”

“Guess what, everyone,” Tony cuts in. “I picked up the boards and skis from the shop today. They’re all tuned up, waxed, and ready.”

“Yes!” Jacob pumps his arm. “I’m gonna go on so many jumps this time.”

I’ve been thinking all day about how to tell Mom and Tony about Reece joining us in a way that won’t make them mad. I wish I could just
not
tell them until he shows up at the vacation house, but that would make it awkward for everyone—especially Reece. Anyway, his mom could call here at any time, so I have to get it over with.

I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then smile big, hoping my enthusiasm will be contagious. “Oh, hey. I wanted to tell you all. I found out that one of my friends is going to meet us up at Whistler for the last couple days of our trip. So that will be fun, right?”

“Which friend?” Mom asks. “Alejandra, I hope.”

“No,” I say, still smiling, even though, seriously, when is she going to accept that Alejandra and I don’t go anywhere together anymore? “It’s Reece. You met him, remember? He’s in the marching band, and I introduced you when you came to watch me dance at Homecoming halftime? He’s in jazz band, too.”

That last part was for Tony’s benefit, since he also likes all that old music.

Mom shakes her head, frowning like she can’t keep up. “Your friend is a boy named Reece?”

This is already going in exactly the direction I’d hoped it wouldn’t. The corners of my lips are threatening to slip downward. “Yes. He loves to snowboard. He’ll drive himself up the day after Christmas, and it’ll be great.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. He and Mom exchange a long look, and then Tony says, “That kid doesn’t think he’s going to be staying with us, does he?”

“Where else would he stay?”

Mom rubs her temples. “Nicole, you can’t invite a random boy to our town house whom we met once at a football game and you know that. Plus, we’re so rarely all together these days. I’m sorry, but I think it will be better if this trip is for the family only.”

My excited approach didn’t work, so I have to switch tactics. “It’s for
one
night. You were going to let Bryan bring Heather for the whole trip, and when you think about it, you hardly knew her, either.”

Bryan shoots me a how-could-you-say-that-name-in-front-of-me look. I feel kind of bad about it, but I have to use any and all ammunition.

“Your brother happens to be twenty years old,” Mom says. “Not fifteen.”

“I’ll be sixteen next month. Anyway, Reece is looking forward to this. It would be really mean to tell him he can’t come now.”

Tony shakes his head. “You should have thought about that before you invited him without permission. Besides, I can guess what that kid has on his mind and it isn’t snowboarding.”

Whenever Mom and Tony talk about What’s on Boys’ Minds, I want to scream.

“Is Reece the guy with the blue truck?” Zach asks.

“Yes,” I say. “He’s very, very nice and does a lot of favors for me.”

“Oh, him,” Jacob says. “He always stares at your butt when he drops you off.”

“Jacob!” Mom says.

“He does! When she’s walking away, he watches her—”

“That’s enough,” Mom interrupts.

I want to go off on Jacob, but I need to be calm and rational now. “Reece’s mom is planning to call you soon. And I can have Reece come over so you can talk to him in person, too, if you want. You’ll see that there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t know,” Mom says.

I can tell that she’s totally wavering, though. Just a little more convincing and she’ll agree. “
Please
, Mom,” I say.

Bryan slams his hand on the table. “Mom, what the hell? Why are you forcing her to beg? Quit making a big deal out of it and just let the guy come.”

“Can you please not speak to your mother like that?” Tony says, tightening his jaw.

Mom sighs. “We didn’t let you bring girls on vacation when you were your sister’s age. It’s not appropriate.”

“What do you think could possibly happen?” Bryan asks. “We’re
all
going to fucking be there.”

Then, without another word, he stomps out of the room.

Mom pushes her chair back as if she’s going to go after him, but she stops just as quickly and scoots back in. Tony gulps his drink while Emma, Jacob, and Zach stare at one another. I take another bite.

Bryan and I have been on the same team forever and ever: Us versus All of Them. When he’s like this, though, it doesn’t do me any good at all.

CHAPTER 4

H
alf an hour later, Mom drives me to the sleepover in silence. She isn’t not speaking to me in an angry way; she’s just lost in her own thoughts. I want to ask if she’s made up her mind about Reece—if she’s at least willing to think about it—but I know her well enough to wait this out.

We pull up in front of Piper and Noah’s house. It’s only a few blocks away, but Mom is paranoid and doesn’t like me walking anywhere after dark. She puts the minivan in park and leaves the engine idling while I reach back and pull my stuff from the seat behind me.

“All right, he can come,” she announces.

I don’t pretend this hasn’t been on my mind or start a new argument with her by asking “Who?” or “Where?” or, above all, “Why?” I just say, “Thank you.”

The darkness and streetlights make her face glowy and shadowy at the same time and her dark brown eyes—which all
five of us kids inherited—look almost black. “I have to tell you, though,” she says, “it disappoints me that with you and Bryan, it’s always everyone else who comes first. The rest of us would love to have time with you too, sometimes.”

I hate it when she acts like we’re some kind of Brady Bunch. We aren’t two families who came together to form one big, happy family. Instead, when I was five and Bryan was nine, Mom moved us here to where she’d grown up in Washington State, divorced our father, married Tony, and had three children with him in one shot. Bryan and I were half of her original family; now we’re the leftovers.

Mom pushes a blond curl behind her ear. “And truthfully, I wish you wouldn’t let your brother influence you so much when he’s home. Especially concerning Tony. He’s a good dad and he doesn’t deserve the attitudes.”

Before I can stop myself, I mutter, “He isn’t our dad.”

“But he wants to be. He
tries
. I know you don’t even remember living in New Zealand, but believe me, Nicole, we are a million times better off now than we were with Patrick.”

She’s right that I have no recollection of our lives before, but she’s wrong about Tony trying so hard. His own kids come first with him. They always have and always will. “I guess I should go,” I say, gesturing toward the house.

“Say hi to everyone for me.”

“I will.”

I carry my purple overnight case and matching sleeping bag across the sidewalk, and let myself in. My family has been close with the Crownes for almost as long as I can remember. Mr. Crowne and Tony are law firm partners, Mrs. Crowne and my mom are good friends, Piper has had a hopeless crush on Bryan for years, and, of course, Noah and I hang out all the time.

In the front room, rolled-up sleeping bags and backpacks are piled up all over, and I can hear voices, laughter, and music coming from farther back in the house. I set my things down and make my way to the living room. Tonight is pretty much guaranteed to be a typical Piper party where we’ll all sit around talking, and nothing even remotely wild will happen if she has anything to say about it.

“Hey, everyone!” I call out over the music as I breeze into the room.

About half the girls from our team are here, lounging on couches, chairs, and the floor. They turn to look up at me, and in that instant, their faces become a blurry background for the stare that my former best friend is aiming my way.

Alejandra’s here. She’s on that chair right in front of me, even though Piper specifically told me that she wasn’t invited. At least, I thought that’s what she’d said.

I was
sure
of it.

I look away quickly. From the sofa, Piper’s eyes meet mine. “I’m so glad you’re finally here, Coley,” she says, standing to give me a quick hug.

“Me too,” I say, but I’m too busy trying to figure out what’s happening to put any feeling into my words.

Behind Piper, Ming is chewing her pinky nail and frowning at her lap.

“What’d I miss?” I ask, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. “Not the ice cream, I hope.”

Piper shakes her head. “Not at all. But there’s something we need to talk about first.”

She leads me to squish onto the couch between her and Ming, grabs the remote from the coffee table, and turns down the music.

I glance around at Dia, Olivia, Rachel B., Liz, Becca, Megan, Felicia, Rachel S., and Hannah. No one is talking and their expressions give nothing away, but I have a feeling that I know what’s coming.

“We all heard what Coach Laine said at practice about the Day of Repentance,” Piper says, using her squad-captain voice again. “Now, Coley. Alejandra. We all know you haven’t been getting along. Coach wants you to work it out because your rift is affecting everyone. That’s why I invited you both here tonight.”

Just like I thought—a surprise intervention. This might end up being my least favorite Piper party ever.

I put on a big smile. “We won the competition last week, and we’re going to keep winning. So I guess I don’t know what the problem is.”

“The problem,” Felicia says, sitting up straighter in her chair, “is that I spend more time with this team than I do with anyone, and the nonstop tension is getting so old.”

Hannah nods from her spot on the floor. “And it isn’t Alejandra’s fault. Maybe if
some
people were a little more supportive—”

“Oh, please!” Ming interrupts. “It isn’t like Coley hasn’t been trying to make things better. She even stopped changing in the locker room so that Alejandra can have her space—”

“More like so that she can keep avoiding Alejandra,” Liz says.

As someone who has helped smooth over arguments between my teammates many times, I’m so not used to having all this hostility directed at me.

Piper puts her hand up like a crossing guard. “Stop, please. Don’t make it worse. Let’s all go put together our sundaes so that Coley and Alejandra can talk alone.”

Everyone gets up slowly to leave the room. Hannah and Liz glare at me as they head to the kitchen. Dia pats my shoulder,
while Ming quietly says, “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“I know,” I tell her. Ming would never set me up. Not in the way that Piper obviously would. “Save me some marshmallow sauce, okay?”

Then it’s just Alejandra and me.

All I want to do is sprint from the room. There’s nowhere to go, though, and dealing with her is still preferable to sleeping in my own bed tonight. I sink farther into the couch cushions, bracing myself.

“Just so you know,” Alejandra says, “they sprang it on me, too. Piper told me you weren’t coming.”