Authors: Kirsten Smith
Trinkets (15 page)
You have a good eye,
he says.
It’s something my mom used to say.
She loved photography
as much as she loved movies
and, I guess, as much as she loved me
or as much as she loved him.
We catch each other’s gaze for a second
and he says,
You must miss her a lot.
I don’t want to talk about it
so I bolt out, saying,
Well, I’d better get back to my homework.
He says,
I’ll see you downstairs
,
and we part ways
as friends,
or whatever it is
you want to call it.
APRIL 22Today after Shoplifters Anonymous we took the bus to Multnomah Village to a record store called the Vinyl Monkey. It just opened next to Switch Shoes on Capitol Highway, and it’s a great place to hang out, since no one cares about records anymore and the people who go there are older and cool. It would be a great place to steal from too, except it’s not exactly easy to fit an LP under your shirt and go unnoticed. Flat, square boobs would be pretty obvious.
The best part about the store is the lady who runs it. I shall call her Lady. She’s in her fifties and skinny and she wears colorful muumuus and somehow makes them seem stylish. In addition to the orange clogs she sports, her best quality is she has a genuine love of pop songs. Alex and Janet and everybody only listen to hard-rock songs, which are not
made to dance to. To them any body movement beyond a head nod is considered a colossal social foul. I don’t know why they are so anti-shimmy. Today Lady turned up the music really loud and we danced around the store. I greatly enjoyed doing the Sprinkler, and Elodie and Tabitha showed real promise Washing the Car.
One time Marc’s name came up and Elodie got all blushy. She obviously has a crush on him. I’ve only known two girls he’s dated, but they were both kind of bitchy, and he broke up with them because he said he wanted a girl with a good heart. Even though I don’t know Elodie all that well, I’d say that if anyone fits the “good heart” bill, it’s probably her.
Everybody ElseAfter the record store
we go to the MAC store in Nob Hill
and Tabitha says,
Let’s get some fake eyelashes.
Why would we want those?
Moe asks.
Because
, Tabitha explains,
you ask them to put the lashes on for you
and then you ask for a little bit of concealer
and a little bit of eyeliner
and then boo-ya!
You’ve gotten a free makeover!
As we sit there, I can’t help but wonder
if Marc will think I look good.
Tabitha leaves us there and after a while
comes back with a pair of earrings.
One is a star and the other is a moon.
She hands them to Moe.
Thanks for the mix CD
, Tabitha says.
I like it.
Moe grins as she puts them in her ears.
Did you steal them?
Tabitha tells her,
Of course
.
She knows stolen gifts mean way more
than ones that are bought,
because of what you have to go through
to get them.
We only have three meetings left
, she says,
so we’d better work our magic while we still can.
I guess that was her way
of saying that once this is over,
it’s over.
Speaking in Code
You look nice,
Jenna says to me when I come home,
and I say,
Thanks,
but what I really want to ask is:
“Is that code for ‘You normally look ugly’?”
But I don’t.
What’s the occasion?
she asks.
(Code for: “Do you actually have a life?”)
I tell her,
No occasion. I was out with some friends.
(Code for: “Fuck you very much.”)
Girlfriends or guy-friends?
(“I love being nosy.”)
Girls
, I say. (“Must we continue this conversation?”)
Oh, that’s nice
, she says. (“You’re a loser.”)
I know them from Shoplifters Anonymous
, I add.
(“I’m a dangerous criminal, so don’t mess with me.”)
How’s Rachelle?
she asks. (“I thought you only had one friend.”)
I shrug and say,
Fine
. (“Do we have to continue this conversation?”)
So are there any guys at school you like?
she asks.
(“Is there a remote possibility you’ll ever have a boyfriend?”)
Not really.
(“Would I tell you if I did?”)
I’ll call you when dinner’s ready,
she offers. (“I give up.”)
Sounds good
, I say. (“We will never, ever be friends, so please stop trying.”)
APRIL 24Today in the parking lot I saw Noah getting into his car so I decided SCREW IT and I walked up to him. I was about to say hi when he goes, “Are you confusing me with someone else?” And then I saw that Kayla Lee and another girl were already sitting in the backseat, staring out at me.
I was so pissed I didn’t even say anything to Marc on the way into the house. The parrot kept squawking like he felt my pain. Then about a half hour later the doorbell rang and it was Noah. I tried to shut the door in his face, but he stopped me and said, “Here,” and handed me a Kit Kat bar. A fucking Kit Kat?! He started to say something about being sorry for school today, but I slammed the door. Afterward I just stood there with my heart beating really fast. I waited for a few minutes, then opened the front door. He
was gone, but he’d left the Kit Kat bar on the front mat. We have this really stupid mat that says “HOWDY, STRANGER!” with a squirrel in a cowboy hat on it, and it was sitting in the middle of that.
I was about to throw the Kit Kat into the front yard when I realized that this was the first time he had ever come to the front door of my house. And then I remembered the very first time we ever talked, way back when I moved in six years ago and we were in fourth grade. I was outside sitting on the curb, taking a break from lugging all my shit inside, and I was eating a Kit Kat. He rode by on his bike and stopped and asked me if I was moving in. And I said, “Duh.” But he looked so sad when I did that I felt guilty and offered him some of my Kit Kat. He ate it with a huge smile and that was the beginning of the end for me and Noah Simos.
“Why does every encounter with the one person I want to impress seem to involve humiliation?”
Live ForeverI go grocery shopping with Jenna at New Seasons
for coconut water and brown rice,
gluten-free this and paraben-free that,
and oodles and oodles of kale.
Jenna’s ten years younger than my dad
so she’s always buying food
that will make him “live forever.”
I think she considers a trip to New Seasons
to be one of our many attempts at bonding—
every single one of which has fallen flat.
When we go outside
some BMX guys are in the parking lot
in front of Great Clips.
One of them is doing some kind of wheelie
and another guy’s riding faster than most cars go,
and as he speeds by,
I see it’s Moe’s brother, Marc.
Do those guys go to your school?
Jenna asks.
I say yes and she says,
They seem like bad news.
The psychologist I went to when my mom died
would call that a “projection”:
when you say someone else is “bad news”
because you actually believe it about yourself.
All I know is that Marc is doing some kind of trick
where he rides up on one of those cement parking space thingies
and flies up into the air
and as he does, I pull out my camera and snap a photo.
Jenna doesn’t notice, so I pocket my camera
and glance back over at him
and that’s when I walk into the cart,
which smacks into another cart,
which hits another cart,
and then they all start rolling down the little hill
and the bikers have to pedal out of the way.
Marc spots me standing there,
so I give Lame Wave #2
and pray that aliens will immediately invade Earth
and export me elsewhere
so I don’t have to endure the humiliation
of my stepmother watching me
being watched by a boy
I am pretending not to see.
