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Waiting

At home, I scooped up Charles
as he came running to meet me and sat on the couch and thought about Anthony and Chad and wished that I could combine the two, or at least have the feelings that I have for Anthony for Chad, or that Anthony liked me as much as Chad
did
. But Chad
was
coming over, so that must be a sign that he still had feelings for me. Right?

I sat with Charles and waited. When Chad called, he sounded extra upbeat.

“Still want me to come over?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay then. See you in a few.”

The living room was a mess, so I started tidying it up a little but not too much. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—that I’d actually
cleaned
for him. And I got ready, but it’s not like I
cared
what I looked like. I cleared the papers and glasses off of the kitchen table to give us somewhere to work, and then the doorbell rang.

There he was—all smiles, no braces. I stood there with my mouth gaping open. He’d been wearing them so long, I seriously couldn’t remember what he looked like without them.

And what he looks like without them is: handsome.

I must have looked like quite the goofball with my open mouth because he just stood there in the doorway laughing at me.

“Oh my God! Chad, you look
amazing
!”

And he really did, too. He had the biggest smile I’d ever seen. Really handsome. And he looked taller somehow. I don’t know how he got taller suddenly. Maybe he was more confident, so he was standing up straighter.

“What the heck happened to you? I can’t see from the glare of your beautiful, white teeth.” (I held my hand over my eyes like a dork.)

“I know, I thought I’d have these on forever.” He was grinning this big grin. “So what do you think? How handsome am I?”

“Really handsome.” No,
really
. “You look great, you really do.”

He was so cute, I just wanted to put him in my pocket. I gave him a hug without thinking. It was totally spontaneous, and if I’d thought about it first, it might have been all awkward, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.

He kind of stumbled back a little. (Now
that
was awkward.)

“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’m just so happy for you. Can I get you a beer? Wine? Martini? I think a celebration’s in order.”

“Uh, sure.” (He laughed at my lame attempt at humor.)

I got our Cokes, and we settled in to work at the kitchen table. He showed me his notecards and explained about getting references. Then we went online, and he brought up a couple of reference sites I could use as sources. The whole time, I was stealing glances at him and his new look, perfect smile and all. He
really
looked handsome.

While Chad read from one of the websites out loud, he caught me looking at him.

“You look so different. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare, but you
really
do.”

“Um, thanks.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets; his cheeks were red. I think he felt pretty amazing though. And it felt good to be the first person to get to see his new look besides his mom.

I was feeling all starry-eyed until he got a call.

“Hey. I’m just at a friend’s. So, are we still on for tonight?”

Obviously a girl. I could tell by the way he talked to her, the way he sounded all soft and gooey around the edges. But what did I care though? It’s not like I like him. I mean, I like him, but I don’t really
like
him. Anyway, we were just about done.

“So I’m gonna go. I’ve gotta show off my new look.”

And he flashed another braces-free smile. I was tempted to tell him to say hi to horrible Vanessa for me, but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was being petty and small.

“Thanks so much, Chad. You’re a lifesaver.”

“So, going to the game?” he asked.

I’d forgotten. Another Friday night, another football game. And the last one was so much fun.

I took a deep breath, tried not to be too awkward, and told him quietly, “Um, I’m going to visit Becca tonight.”

He looked surprised—I guess maybe not everybody in the whole school heard about Becca and the lunch ladies—so I attempted to explain the situation in as few words as possible.

“She had a little incident at school the other day.”

He raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t ask me to explain because he’s nice that way, not pushy for details like I am. “She’s in a group home for people with mental illnesses. And she’ll be there for a little while. But it’s okay. She’s really doing well.”

I was trying to sound convincing and convince myself too, I think.

Chad’s look was like pity and surprise mixed together.

“I’m so sorry, Stacy. I had no idea.”

And he did really seem sorry.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” I told him, but his kindness had caught me off guard, and I felt the little knot in my throat again. And before I knew it, tears started to come to the surface. I tried to wipe them away, but Chad saw and looked down. He was quiet, like he didn’t know what to say to me. He just kept his head down as he got his things together.

“Well, I guess I’ll be going now.”

I opened the door for him as he walked out.

“Hey, Chad, have a good time tonight.”

He turned and gave me a little Chad smile. “You too. Say hi to Becca for me, okay?”

I nodded back at him. “I will.”

I closed the door, then kind of slumped against it.

I wish Chad wasn’t such a nice guy.

Hardly Working

Roman picked me up for work.
It had been almost a week since Becca had gone to Brooksi18, and his car was more of a disaster than ever. Does he
live
in it?
What the heck, Roman! After you eat the banana, throw out the peel so it doesn’t turn black and disgusting!

Work: mostly me answering the phone, taking messages, and putting people on hold. I tried not to be a total spaz about it so Sylvia wouldn’t glare at me while she was on the other line.

I still haven’t figured out exactly what Roman “does.” He seems to spend all his time on the computer, most likely playing games or goofing off on anime websites.

No customers, so Sylvia put the little “Closed, Be Back in 15 Minutes!” sign on the door to do some errands.

Roman was looking all mopey, so I decided to harass him.

Me: “Roman.”

Roman: “What?”

Me: “Roman.”

Roman: “What?”

Me: “Hey, Roman.”

Roman: “What?”

Me: “Nothing.”

He threw a wadded-up piece of paper at my head. I flicked a big paper clip at him. He shot a rubber band back at me.

We warred.

Luckily Sylvia came back as Roman was just about to throw a small stapler at me.

“What’re you two
doing
?” (Sylvia looked a little peeved. The floor was covered in office debris.)

We cleaned. Sylvia turned on the radio and started dancing to “Pretty Woman.”

Roman cringed with the pain that comes from watching your egg-shaped mother dancing in a purple muumuu.

Sylvia brought back empanadas for lunch. They were ridiculous, and we ate them in about three seconds. After lunch, she kicked us out to cause havoc somewhere else.

I have now made a total of $105. I shall retire. When I’m ninety-eight.

Halloween’s Scary Clowns

I put a little warlock’s hat on Charles that I’d made
out of black felt with a little gold ribbon for the band. He wore it for about two seconds, then flicked it off with his paw. It was too bad, too, because I planned to dress as a witch to give out candy. He could have been my little warlock cat.

Mom took me to see Becca and drop off some candy for their party. Halloween—big holiday for the goths. Roman went as the Mayor of Halloweentown, which was funny. Roman’s more of a “Jack Skellington” type. Becca was ragdoll Sally, which was actually perfect.

When we got to Brookside, I saw Arm Tattoo Guy dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow. He was talking to a giant penguin and a scarecrow, which sounds like a joke, but it isn’t. It was a perfect look for him, especially with his eyebrow piercing. He wore a big, gold hoop earring in his ear and a red bandanna wrapped around his head. He was a very good-looking pirate—hot actually—and caught me gawking at him like a goober, but he just smiled.

When we got home, I made my eyebrows dark, shaping them into these diabolical-looking angry lines, and then blacked out a tooth with some of Becca’s stage makeup from her drama class. Witch hat and a few strings of beads, and I became a scary witch (without a warlock cat).

Bethany and Rose came over to watch
Halloween
so we could laugh at how cheesy it is. Bethany was a hobo, which meant she dressed in the clothes she usually wears but with a few dirt smudges added to her face and a bandanna stuffed with newspaper tied to the end of a stick. Rose dressed as Superwoman, which was just like her in real life but with added power.

Jill made a brief appearance.

“Not
Halloween
,” she groaned. She was dressed as a cat, the ultimate last-minute costume.

“Wanna watch with us?” I offered, to be nice.

“Uh, no. I’m going out. But you guys enjoy yourselves,” she said with an eye roll, before heading off into the night.

After making three babies cry because I was so terrifying, I had to go wash my face, and Mom took over candy duty even though she was dressed as a clown and
I
was even scared of her.

I debated inviting Chad but decided against it.

The three of us watched our cheesy movie, ate the rest of the candy, and made a pact that we’d start eating better tomorrow.

Baby Sushi

Jill, for the first time in about a year, had the night off
—no work, studying, or social engagements—so the three of us—Mom, Jill, and I—went to the world’s best sushi place to celebrate my birthday, which is two days after Halloween. (Which, truthfully, is kind of a drag. The parents didn’t plan
that one
too well.)

How do I know it’s the world’s best sushi place? Because that’s what the sign in the window says. But it’s really a little dive in a strip mall around the corner from our house.

We sat around the U-shaped counter like we always do and watched sushi chef Tom do his thing—slicing and dicing and rolling. I didn’t even have to order. He just saw me and slid over a plate of California rolls, which Jill always teases me about, calling them “baby sushi.”

Excuse me for not loving raw fish, Jill, all blobby and slimy.

Mom and Jill sipped their warm sake out of the little porcelain cups. I drank my green tea. We told each other stories. First was Mom telling me about the day she had me, underscoring all of the pain involved like it’s something I had any control over. Apparently Becca was the hardest of her labors, which doesn’t surprise me at all.

Next was Jill telling us stories about her Women’s Studies professor, a very militant woman with unshaved underarms and leg hair, who’s always telling the female students to take back their power from The Man. But she also spends a lot of time worrying about her boyfriend Edgar. He’s so sensitive, he knits little sweaters for their dogs. Gag, gag.

Then Mom told work stories, which mostly revolved around the new male teacher.

“The new sub, he doesn’t seem to know kids at all. I mean, he’s so clueless.” Mom was laughing just thinking about him. “The kids are walking all over him. I actually had to take a break from
my
class today and step in. You should’ve seen those little faces straighten up when I went into the classroom. It got quiet
real
fast.”

“Mom, it’s all an act. He’s pretending to be helpless so he can lure you in. I’ve seen this kind of thing before.”

She looked at me blankly. “Stacy, you’re ridiculous.”

I know. I really am.

I watched a group of kids sitting at a table across the way, the girls with the Frankenstein boots and the boys with the spiky black hair. They were just sitting there, eating, talking intensely. They reminded me of Becca and Roman a little, and I wondered when the two of them would be able to do something normal again, like go out for sushi. Jill turned to look at me, deciding to pick on me for some reason.

“So, Stacy, what about you? What’s going on in
your
life that we need to know about?”

My mind raced as I self-edited, trying to think of something I could talk about without revealing too much of myself.

I told them about Chad and the dance. The awkward situation. His hurt feelings.

“Awww,” from both of them, simultaneously.

“Poor Chad,” Mom said.

“Yeah, Stacy. How could you be so mean to poor Chad?”

Jill was laughing, poking at me with her sharp wit.

Thanks a lot, Jill.

“Oh, come on, you guys. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to hurt him. At all.”

“It’s hard to have a crush on someone and get your heart broken, Stacy,” Mom said in a wistful voice.

Yeah. I know all about that.

We talked. We laughed. It was nice, just the three of us.

Fifteen years old. Where has the time gone?