Pieces of Us (3 page)

Kyle

A
lex texts you in study hall:
Treats tonight.

That can only mean one thing, and your stomach clenches.

Who is it this time? Someone new? Someone used? You prefer new because that means you’d be expected to do less, not continue from wherever you left off the last time.

You could choose to not come home. Tonight. Maybe ever. But that’s a nice fantasy. Where would you go?

“Hey, kid.” And it’s him, right beside you. Looking normal in jeans and a sweatshirt, like so many other guys in your school. “Get my text?”

You nod.

“What’s with the face? You look like you’re gonna yak.”

You are. You start to get up but the library spins. You sit again.

“Shit, why don’t you go to the nurse or something? I don’t need to be catching your disease.”

You would, but you can’t get up.

You take deep breaths. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

“Hope so,” says Alex, slapping you on the back. “Can’t have you missing out on the fun. This one is eager and willing.” He cracks his knuckles and laughs. “Kind of like that one.” He points to Sarah, and that makes you sicker. How did you not notice her?

You want to punch him. Watch his head explode and the contents scatter all over the room. He’s sneering at you now, daring you, knowing you’re too weak to fight him, too weak to even say no.

But at least you can leave at this moment. You shake off the nausea, the red haze of anger, the spinning room. You get to your feet and walk out. You leave him.

For now.

Katie

B
ig night for you tonight,” says Ethan, assuming his position beside me in the hallway.

“For us,” I say, and he puts his arm around my waist and we head to the caf.

As we walk through the halls, I feel the eyes. The thoughts swirling around us of people wishing they could be us. “Party!” someone shouts. We lost the playoff game, but it doesn’t matter. There’s the party.

So many smiles and hugs. “Smooches!” shouts Leah as she passes us in the hall. “Coronation night, girl!”

I laugh like she’s being silly, like it’s no big deal. But Pyramid Girl is
everything
—even the teachers congratulated me when I got the position. And this party is everything, since it sets the stage for football cheerleading next year. It’s all I’ve thought about—with every jump, every roll, every split—for months. As if without it, the top of the pyramid wouldn’t really be mine.

“Dude,” yells Chris, sidling up beside us. He slaps Ethan on the back. Ethan play-fights him back. “Mrs. Schmidt,” he says, nodding solemnly.

I giggle. Ethan leans in close to me, his mouth by my ear. “I like the sound of that. We should consummate our marriage, don’t you think?”

“I think I like the mystery,” I tease, and he slaps my butt like we have an in-joke. But I don’t want to consummate anything. He’s asked me, but all we’ve done is a lot of kissing. And I’d like to keep it that way for a while.

When we get to our lunch table, it erupts in applause and hands banging on the table and feet stomping on the floor. “Kaaatie! Pyramid Girl!” they shout. “Schmiiiddy!” This has been our greeting, day after day, for two months. It’s a routine that can never get old, that still makes my heart thump with excitement.

Ethan bows, and I curtsy, and milk shoots out of Chris’s nose. And the table laughs more. The teachers give us looks—crosses between reprimand and wistfulness.

“Huddle,” shouts Ethan, and we do it.

I’m lifted high into the air to cheer for today’s lunch: pizza.

Everyone’s watching, dying, applauding, laughing. Everyone but Marissa. She just stares up at me, her smile toothy, her eyes cold and jealous. She’s a junior. She should have been next, but I was lighter and my cartwheels were bigger and my jumps higher. When the list came out, she sputtered and shoved me aside.

“Let’s hear it for pizza!” Ethan shouts.

Some kids at the lunch tables roll their eyes, but they watch us anyway.

“Give me a P!” Trina shouts.

“P!” I pump my arm in the arm.

“Give me an I!” yells Chris.

“Maaainiac!” someone hollers.

“I!” I pump my other arm. Leah tosses me a bunch of crumpled up napkins to use as pom-poms.

“Z, Z, A!” others hoot.

“What’s that spell?” asks Leah.

“Pizza, pizza, pizza today!” I yell, throwing my napkins into the air before falling into Ethan’s arms.

Even the teacher on lunch duty is laughing. The bell rings and we gather our things, leaving uneaten pizza on our plates, crumpled-up napkins on the floor. I move to pick them up but Ethan pulls me along. He says something to Chris and they both laugh before Chris walks away.

“You’re awesome,” says Ethan, pulling me in for a kiss.

I laugh. “You’re awesomer.”

The cafeteria doors part, like the Red Sea, and we’re out.

Julie

I
’m just glad Katie and I are not in the same school yet. The way she prances at home, the way her cell goes off every three seconds to “Popular” (I’m not lying), the way Mama makes her favorite foods
every night
. It’s good to have a break for a few hours, a place where no one knows or cares who Katie is.

“You get too worked up about her,” Chloe says now, chowing down on her burger and fries at McD’s. “What’s the big?”

I take two fries from her and savor them before dipping my apple “fries” into the caramel sauce (Mama would know if I had a whole serving of fries). “It’s just, like, she has everything. No one person should have everything.”

Chloe laughs. “Puh-leeze. You’re such a drama queen. No one has everything.”

I hate when Chloe puts on her mature act. “Well,” I say huffily, “to my mother, Pyramid Girl is everything. She was Pyramid Girl once too.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s talk about something else. How’s the math tutoring going?” She elbows me and winks.

“Derek Santos put his hand on my knee. Again.” I whisper it. Who knows who could be listening?

Chloe raises her eyebrows. “Like how?”

We dissect it and I show her and we both agree that the positioning and the way he did it seems more than just friendly tutor/student.

By the time I get home, I’m feeling better. I’m imagining what spot on me Derek will touch next. I’m thinking that if someone sees me—just me, not the me standing beside Katie—I may actually look cute. I’m even proud of myself for sticking to the apple slices.

Then I walk into my kitchen and it’s a Katie fashion show.

“Oh Julie!” says my mother. “Thank goodness you’re home. We could really use your help pinning up Katie’s hair.”

Katie looks almost apologetic, but she doesn’t say she doesn’t need me. I sigh. And play. “So, tell me about this night of yours.”

Katie shrugs. “It’s just a party. Like a welcome-to-the-top-of-the-pyramid thing.” She plays it down, for my sake I guess, but I can see her wanting to bounce, see her toes wiggling with excitement in their sparkly pumps. Her eyes shine in the same way mine did when I got the highest Word Masters score in the school. No one threw me a party for that. No one pinned
my
hair up when I got my ribbon.

My mother moves a strand of hair from Katie’s eyes and steps back to get a better look. Her eyes shine with pride. “Ethan won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” she says, and Katie beams.

“And what about Alex?” I ask.

Katie’s smile wavers. We don’t talk about Alex during the school year. Part of their idiotic arrangement. But they hook up every summer. How does she NOT think about him? I mean, Philly is only twenty minutes away.

“He’s my summer boyfriend,” she says, like it’s that easy.

“And if Ethan wants to date in the summer?” Nothing should be this easy.

“Oh, Julie!” Katie ruffles my hair like I’m ten instead of thirteen. “I know what I’m doing.”

Mama fixes a bobby pin on Katie’s head that I already put in. “Today is your sister’s big night. No need to make trouble, okay?”

I close my mouth and fix Katie’s hair. By the time she leaves the house, she’s perfection, and my fingers smell like hair spray.

I wish I’d eaten more fries with Chloe.

Alex

Y
o!” I yell when I walk into the townhouse. “Asswipe,
you home?”

No one answers, and Jasmine giggles. I hate when she does that. It sounds so fake and innocent, and Jasmine is far from innocent.

“Looks like the coast is clear,” she says.

She moves to pull me toward my bedroom, then stops. That’s right. I’m the leader. But I know what she wants, and I’m not going to be a dick.

“I missed you,” I say into her neck, and carry her to my bedroom.

She nuzzles her head against my neck with a small moan, and I put her down on the bed and get on top of her.

“Tell me you only want me,” she whispers.

I want to laugh, but I can’t risk her walking out on my hard-on. “I only want you.”
Because you’re the one who’s here.

She pulls my shirt over my head, and I rip a button taking off hers. She moans extra loud like she’s a fucking porn star. And she wonders why I won’t commit. I don’t commit to whores.

But they keep me going until I see Katya. She’s too good for this kind of shit.

I pull off my jeans and move her mouth to where so many have gone before, and let her show her talents. Gotta hand it to her, she knows what she’s doing.

When I’m done, she moves my hand to her underwear, and I hear the front door open.

“Hold that thought,” I say.

Then I cover her with a blanket—the little shit scares so easy, I always have to ease him in—and run to get Kyle.

Katie

C
hris’s house is decorated with blue and gold streamers, and the party is in full swing when Ethan and I get there.

“It’s Ethan and Katie!” yell Leah and Trina when I walk through the double doors into the foyer. Drunk partiers throw confetti on me and Ethan.

“Schmiiidy!”

“Pyramid Girl!”

They give us blue drinks, served in blue plastic cups. Ethan clinks his cup with mine. “To us,” he says, staring deeply into my eyes. I get the meaning behind the stare and look away.

“To us,” I say. The sweet liquid tastes like a blue Jolly Rancher and goes down easy. Everyone cheers as we chug it.

“Bro!” yells Chris, putting one arm around my shoulder, the other around Ethan’s. I’m wearing a gold halter top and his hand feels cold on my shoulders. I shrug it away. He seems to give Ethan a look.

“Can I borrow your man for a few minutes?” he asks. “Guy stuff.”

Trina is right beside me. “Take him. We have our own things to talk about it.”

“Don’t forget to miss me,” says Ethan, kissing me hard, running his hands under my top. Someone whoops and whistles.

“Boys are so needy,” Trina says when they leave. “Who cares, though, right? We have to make your crown!”

There’s
really
going to be a crown? She drags me to an upstairs bedroom, where the other cheerleaders are crafting. They’re holding a gold plastic crown and gluing fake jewels to it. I finger the materials they’re putting on. Smooth rubies, blue velvet for the trim, diamonds, sapphires. I know they’re probably from the dollar store, but they sparkle like they’re real.

“Try it on,” says Leah, when it dries.

I do, and they
ooh
. I run to the mirror. It’s perfect and shiny and matches my top.

“You look hot,” says Trina.

“Totally hot,” says everyone else. Even Marissa nods, but she looks pretty drunk. “Shots!” she yells, and Leah pulls a bottle of bubblegum vodka from under the bed.

I’ve never done shots, but they’re poured and everyone is chanting. I down my quickly, and it’s fizzy and tastes like pink bubble gum with a burn. “Again!” Trina shouts, and we all do another. And then one more.

“Save some for the king!” The door bangs open and there’s Ethan, crown on his head. But it’s flimsier than mine. I think it’s from Burger King.

He scoops me up and someone says “Aww,” like there’s nothing more romantic than our crowns beside each other.

“Let’s get this party back downstairs,” Leah says, pushing everyone out, but she’s getting wasted too and keeps tripping.

“You heard the lady,” says Chris. “Besides, I have a better idea!”

And everyone runs downstairs, laughing, shouting, screaming. My pump snags on the carpet but Ethan is there to catch me. “My Romeo,” I say, and he pushes me to the floor. I can tell I’m getting tipsy because the floor feels like it’s moving. I can feel his hand on the zipper of my jeans, but by the time I react, the zipper is down.

He gets off me, shrugging. “Sorry about that. You’re just so hot, I can’t help it.”

I open my mouth to say something, but my brain is mushy. Then Chris is pulling us down the stairs, telling us this amazing idea he has of me and Ethan doing a keg stand in unison.

“King and queen together! It will be epic!”

And everyone is agreeing with him. “Totally epic!”

And Leah and Trina get the cheerleaders going in a cheer, betting that I can beat Ethan. And in my drunken haze I think I
can
. I’m Pyramid Girl!

They take off our crowns before the world goes upside down, and I drink and don’t stop until I choke. They get me down and put my crown back on, but Ethan is still going. They bring him down next and raise his arm high in the air. “The winner!”

“I guess I beat you,” says Ethan, crown looking higher than before. “The king rules. Don’t forget it!”

“The king rules!” the room shouts.

Then he leans in close, his arms holding me up. “Are you okay? Do you want to lie down? You’ll be all right.”

“Thanks,” I slur, and I think what a great guy he is. How lucky I am that he wants to take care of me.

I let him lead me to a room, let him lay me down on the bed. Chris’s beagle is on it, and he stirs. Ethan moves the dog to the corner of the bed. His words are soothing. He strokes my hair. He leaves and then is back with water. “Drink,” he says, and I do.

The room is still spinning, but I don’t feel sick. Just high and happy and dizzy. And tired.

He lays down beside me and strokes my stomach. I turn to him and kiss him, and I love that our crowns are still on.

I let his hands roam under my shirt. I like that he tells me I’m beautiful. I could just lie on this bed and only kiss for hours. But I’m getting so tired. I feel my eyes closing. I feel him kissing me and I’m in and out. Something wet on my toes. The beagle is licking them. Ethan’s hands move to my jeans, and I move mine to push him away. At least I think I do. I want to, but the room spins faster. The jeans are off, and he’s pulling at my underwear, and I whisper, “No.”

And he says, “It will be okay. I promise. You’re my Pyramid Girl.”

And I want to ask him
why rush
, and tell him not tonight, but the words don’t come and my eyes keep closing. And he’s still telling me—voice sounding further away than before—that it will be okay and in my haze I believe him. I’m Pyramid Girl.

Then there’s pain. My eyes snap open, and Ethan is rocking on top of me. I want to push him off, but I can’t. I close my eyes, hoping to erase the pain, to disappear. He stops. I breathe. But then he’s on top of me again, rougher than before, hurting me more. I open my eyes again, and it’s not Ethan anymore. He’s beside me now, still telling me it will be okay, still calling me his Pyramid Girl, telling me to relax, to sshh …

As Chris pushes further inside me.