Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) (4 page)

BOOK: Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have)
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Next up—mascara. “Sorry I’m taking so long. Almost done.”

“No rush.” She smiled dreamily. “I’ll just lie here and pretend this is my room. I might nap.”

“Happy to get a trundle bed.”

“Wait till Noah sees your new digs. He’s going to freak.”

“We’ll find out if he ever gets here.” Where was he, anyway?

“He’s probably getting you flowers or something. Something sweet. Do you know how lucky you are? You have an amazing boyfriend who lives ten minutes away, plus you have your own place.” Aaron, Marissa’s boyfriend, lived in Boston.

I applied my lip gloss. “You’re forgetting one of the most important things.”

“What’s that?”

I smacked my lips together, then went over and hugged her, because I really did love Marissa. Without Marissa, I’d probably still be lying in a pool of my own misery. “I have you.”

A KICK IN THE PANTS

Two and a half years ago, in September of freshman year, Marissa decided we needed to be on the soccer team.

“But we’re not athletic,” I reminded her. We were both around five foot five and small, and not particularly active.

“So? A sport would be good for us. Our confidence. Our morale. Our asses.” We both knew what she really meant was, a sport might make you stop moping.

While soccer was fun, it didn’t stop me from crying into my pillow at night over how my mom cheated on my dad and made him cry and how dinnertime was lonely and quiet and usually McDonald’s and how my father was dating like a lunatic and my mother wanted to chat with me about the cute guys in her office.

Marissa thought it was awesome that my mom wanted to hang out and gossip, but it just gave me a headache. Marissa moved to Plan B. “I told Noah Friedman to come to Burger Palace for lunch with us,” she told me.

“Who?” I thought I knew who he was, but I wasn’t sure.

“Noah. He’s in my English class. You’ll like him.”

“Why?” I asked, leaning against my locker.

“He’s cute. He’s sweet. He’s smart. I think you guys would be good together,” she said.

The three of us met by the front door. He had wavy brown hair, green eyes. Taller than me, but not much. His cheeks were pink, like he’d run to meet us. He smelled fresh, like mint gum. We walked down the street to Burger Palace, Marissa in the middle.

The waitress came over and asked us for our order. Marissa got chicken fingers. I got a burger. Noah, sitting across from us, got a burger, fries, a side of mac ’n’ cheese, and a milk shake.

“That’s a lot of food,” Marissa said.

“I’m a growing boy,” he said.

“I’ll share your fries,” I offered. “So you don’t explode.”

He smiled at me. He had dimples. I wanted to reach over and touch one.

“Glad you’re here to keep me under control. But where were you two weeks ago when I actually did explode at Bertucci’s? I ate way too much pizza.”

I laughed. Sitting there with Noah, I felt like I belonged. I forgot to be sad about my parents’ divorce. I forgot to be angry.

The waitress came back to our table. “Sorry to tell you, kids, but we’re out of beef patties.”

“But . . . this is the Burger Palace,” I said.

She shrugged. “Turkey burger? Veggie burger? Lamb? We still got burgers.”

“Um . . .”

“Sure,” Noah said. “Turkey.”

“And you?” the waitress asked me.

“Turkey burger, I guess. Thanks.” I waited for the waitress to walk away before grumbling, “How does a burger place run out of burgers?”

“They have burgers, just not beef. You don’t like turkey?” Noah asked.

“I do,” I said. “But I can’t just switch gears like that. I need to rearrange the expectations of my palate.” I made an exaggerated lip-smacking sound. “There we go. Rearranged.”

“Your palate, huh?” He laughed. “You’re cute.”

Now my cheeks felt pink. So are you, I thought.

Under the table, Marissa squeezed my hand.

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Noah showed up last to the soirée.

Vi was busy pouring beers and glasses of wine as the guests arrived, and Joanna handed them out. It felt odd watching them serve alcohol. Like we were old, living in an apartment in New York, having cocktails. Already Dean and his brother, Hudson, were finishing the last of the chips.

We’d left the door unlocked and I was refilling the chip bowl when I spotted Noah at the door. “Hi!” I said. I dropped the bag and pushed through the others to get to him as he smiled at me. It wasn’t the private homecoming I’d been dreaming of—but at least he was here.

“Hey, everyone,” he said, glancing around the room. He was looking adorable, like he always did when he came home from Florida. Slight tan, cheeks a bit burnt. He was wearing a new green top that his parents must have bought him on their trip. I’d never seen it before.

“What’s up?” RJ called from the couch. RJ played center on the varsity basketball team with Noah. Compared to RJ’s six-foot-three, wide, bulky frame, we all looked like dwarfs.

I wrapped my arms around Noah’s neck, which was cold from outside. His cheeks were flushed. “Hi,” I said again.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking around.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. He was the perfect height for me, only a few inches taller. “I missed you,” I said. He smelled like shampoo.

“I missed you too,” he said. He kissed me again.

“Get a room!” Dean hollered.

Noah blushed. “So,” he said, looking around again. “This is home.”

“This is home,” I repeated. I tried to make eye contact. “How was your flight?”

“No problems.” He checked out the surroundings—the ap-pliances from the seventies in the kitchen, the huge rectangular wooden dining room table, the purple tablecloth, the massive blue suede couch, the shag carpet, the clutter of lamps, and candles and stuff that did not belong to me. The water behind the windows and the lights across the way. “Crazy.”

“I know.” I was sure it was bizarro for him to see me in this new environment, this new home. It was weird for me to be in it. But what was also weird was why he hadn’t called me when he’d landed. Why hadn’t he come straight over? Why wouldn’t he look at me?

Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was just that everyone was watching. Maybe it was because Corinne was watching.

“Come sit down,” I said, leading him to the rest of the party.

I NEVER

“My turn,” Vi said. “I’ve never kissed a girl.”

All four guys—Noah, RJ, Dean, and Hudson—plus Joanna, drank to that one. But that was no surprise.

Dean put his arm around Vi. “If the rest of you ladies would like to try right now, don’t let us stop you.”

Vi punched him in the arm. “Yes, that’s what we’re going to do, make out with each other for your viewing enjoyment.” The two of them were sharing a lounge chair.

“Excellent,” Dean said, his loud laugh reverberating around the room. Dean and Vi had been best friends since they met freshman year. Now he had his hands on Vi’s hip. He always seemed to be touching someone or something. A ball, a cushion, a girl’s hip.

I was sitting between Marissa and Noah on the couch, and Joanna was on the other side of Noah.

Joanna was a senior at Andersen. She was wearing vintage jeans and a lace shirt that you know she bought at an actual thrift store and not at Urban Outfitters like everyone else. Next year she was backpacking through Australia instead of going to college. She was also the only gay person I knew who had come out, and possibly the only gay person I knew, period. Last year she had brought her (now ex) girlfriend from Stamford to her junior prom. Joanna lived a few blocks away from Vi, also on Mississauga Island, but at the end, near the yacht club.

“My turn,” Dean said. “I’ve never had sex.” Then he drank. Dean had been the first guy in their year to lose his virginity, when he was in eighth grade, with a high school student. It had made him a bit of a legend. He had always been cute—he had shortish, shaggy brown hair, puffy cheeks, and a quick smile. But it wasn’t his looks that got the girls—he was funny.

“Hells no,” Vi said. “You can’t say something you’ve
done
and then drink.”

Dean swallowed. “Why not?”

“That’s the rule.”

“Your rule,” he said.

“House rules,” she answered.

“So should I be drinking here or not?” RJ asked, lifting his glass.

“That depends on whether or not you’ve had sex,” Vi said.

He didn’t drink. Neither did Corinne, who was sitting across the room, running her pale fingers through her red hair and watching us not drink.

Joanna, Hudson, and Vi drank.

No one else touched his or her glass. It was a clear division between juniors and seniors, my friends and Vi’s friends.

I didn’t know who Joanna and Hudson had done it with, but I knew Vi had lost her virginity to Frank, a hot college student who had a part in one of her mom’s plays.

I’d been hoping to change my virgin status tonight. I kind of assumed that was the plan.

But . . . apparently Noah’s plans were not the same as my plans.

TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER

“Okay, everyone, it’s time to play I Never!” Vi had called, and started passing out cups.

“I’m driving,” Noah said, waving his away.

“Hells no!” Vi exclaimed. “I assumed you would just crash here.”

“No can do,” he replied.

“Why not?” Vi asked.

Noah shifted uncomfortably. “Because.”

“Because why?” Vi asked.

“Because my parents want me home,” Noah said.

She turned to me. “Is he a mama’s boy?”

I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t because Noah looked annoyed. But he was a mama’s boy. Noah’s mom was the kind of mom who knew every detail of her two boys’ lives from their upcoming tests to what underwear they were wearing. Fine, maybe not the underwear. She wasn’t creepy. But she knew when they needed
new
underwear because fresh boxers would appear in their rooms. “A little,” I said.

“A guy who treats his mom well treats his wife well,” Marissa said.

“He definitely treats his girlfriend well,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.

“You can still
play
,” Vi said. “I’ll just give you something else to drink.” She put the glasses down on the coffee table and headed back to the kitchen. “How about . . . soy milk?”

Noah shrugged, still looking annoyed. He shifted away from Vi and put his arm around me. Since Vi’s and my friendship was so separate from my everyday social life, Noah and Vi had never spent much time together. I had assumed they’d get along. Why wouldn’t they? I liked them both.

“Soy milk? That’s disgusting,” Dean said. He was fingering one of the seven candleholders that were also on the coffee table.

“That’s all we have. April, we really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. How about water?”

“Whatever,” Noah said.

“Water it is. Chardonnay for everyone not driving. Thank you, Mom, for leaving me a stocked liquor cabinet.”

BACK TO THE GAME

“Dude,” Dean said, looking at Noah. “You’ve never done it? That’s going to change. Your girlfriend has her own house. Speaking of . . .” He lifted his glass. “I’ve never had my own house.”

Vi and I drank.

I put my hand on my hip, the alcohol making me feel tough. “You didn’t want to say, I’ve never been abandoned by my parents?”

Dean blushed and shook his head.

Marissa squeezed my shoulder.

Hudson laughed.

I looked over at him and smiled. “At least someone thinks I’m funny.”

Hudson was also a senior. Which was weird because he was ten months older than Dean but still in the same grade. Hudson was hot, while Dean was more of a cutie. Hudson had dirty-blond hair, crazy cheekbones, and blue eyes that were right now popping from across the room. He looked nothing like his brother. And as far as I could tell, Hudson kept his hands to himself. He kept most things to himself. He dated Sloane Grayson for most of last year but they broke up during the summer before she left for college. He was a possible drug dealer. Probably a rumor but supposedly he’d bought a brand-new Jeep with no help from his parents. Also, he was always “working” yet no one would say what he was doing.

“I can’t believe you guys get to live together,” Joanna said. “Lucky bitches.”

“My parents would have
made
me move,” Corinne said.

“Our parents keep hoping we’ll move,” Dean said. “Vi, why couldn’t April just move into your mom’s room instead of the basement?”

“My mom is going to come back for a weekend or so,” Vi said. “This is still her house.”

She was?

“It’s kind of like April has her own apartment,” Marissa said.

“But, April, won’t you, like, miss your parents?” Corinne asked, looking not at me but beside me in Noah’s direction. She definitely wasn’t concerned with my feelings. She wanted me on the next plane to France or Ohio. Or anywhere not here. She licked her lips after she spoke. She always licked her lips. Maybe she thought it made her look sexy. Or maybe her lips were just dry and scaly and in desperate need of moisturization.

In a way I felt bad for her. It must be hell to be so obviously and publicly in love with someone else’s boyfriend for all of high school. Not bad enough for me to hand him over. Sorry, Cor. Keep licking those lips.

“She’s going to have too much fun to miss anyone,” Marissa said.

RJ stretched his right arm, making it pop. “What happens if April’s dad Googles Vi’s mom and sees that she’s in Chicago?”

Silence.

“Then I’m screwed,” I said. I took a sip of wine.

“Let’s get back to the game,” Marissa said, bumping her knee against mine. “I’ve never worn a tie.”

All the guys drank.

RJ looked at Corinne. “Never have I ever worn a bikini,” he said.

Vi snorted. “Never have I ever?”

“That’s how we do it,” RJ said.

“It sounds ridiculous,” Vi said. “But since I have worn a bikini, I will drink.”

RJ watched Corinne as she sipped. He was probably trying to get her drunk so he’d have a chance with her. He’d been obsessed with her since the beginning of the year. He invited her everywhere. But if Corinne liked him back, she would have hooked up with him already. Clearly she was still interested in Noah.

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