Use Somebody (20 page)

I shook my head. They weren’t listening. “You guys are delusional.” I may have been a little standoffish these last few months, but that didn’t mean I was hooking up with every male I spoke to now. Vance and Ricky were both my friends. I shouldn’t have had to go out of my way to prove it.

I looked at Vance, hoping he could bring some sense to the conversation. Geez, this had to be so boring for him. Tonight was supposed to be about him, not me and my rumored love life.

“Are you having fun?” I diverted.
Smooth. Real smooth.
“Want to do another song?”

His smile picked up at my change of subject. Seemed as though he wasn’t interested the girls’ ramblings either. “Sure. Duet?”

With me?
“Oh no. I don’t do karaoke.”

“But you love to sing!”

“Not in public.”

“Aw, come on, what happened to your fearlessness, friend?”

My lips pressed tightly together. “This is different.”

“Please Rosie?” he pouted. “Do it for me?”

“You’re giving me puppy eyes?” I had to laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Maybe… is it working?”

“No!”

“I’ll sing with you,” Summer offered.

“See, there you go,” I grabbed tight to that opportunity. I smiled big at them and hoped this would let me off the hook.

Summer looked a little brighter at the prospect, and grinned as she slid out of the booth. “I’ll go sign us up!”

She headed towards the DJ. Kiki got lost in her own little world, bobbing her head to some imaginary beat. Vance looked a little put out. I wondered if his breakup was finally getting to him. Maybe Evelyn had always been his karaoke partner, and this would be his first time singing a duet without her.

“You guys will do great,” I encouraged, trying to shift the mood back around. “I’ll cheer you both on.”

“It’s fine,” he said, eyes boring into mine and lowering his voice. “It’s just… music is
our
thing.”

I smiled sympathetically, totally understanding. “I’m sorry. It always starts with little things like that.”

His brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“The beginning is the hardest, trying to figure everything out again: who you are, what to do with your Friday nights. And the firsts are the worst—first karaoke without her… first Christmas alone. But you have amazing friends, and you’ll find a routine again. It’ll get easier.”

He stared at me quietly for a few beats. Then, “I wasn’t talking about Evelyn.”

And all of a sudden it clicked. The depth of his gaze and the memories of blasting rock songs in his truck told me exactly who he was referring to.

Music is
our
thing.

Beside him, Kiki’s eyes grew wide, barely able to contain her glee. I shook my head at her. Vance wasn’t flirting with me. He
wasn’t
. But it was almost as if he was purposely trying to egg them on.

Why did he have to say that?

Before any of us could speak, Summer returned to the table with a gigantic book of songs. Obliviously flipping through the plastic pages, she pointed out a few oldies she thought might be fun. Judging by Vance’s scrunched face, he wasn’t interested in her selections. I could have told her that. I was surprised that, despite all their years of friendship, she didn’t already know the kind of music that he liked. How could she know him so well, yet not know something so important to him?

* * *

“So how are you really holding up?” I asked.

I assumed he needed a little break after his “celebration.” I knew I did. The worst of it was when Summer and Kiki used their phones to Photoshop Evelyn’s face on pictures of rhinos. Vance was not too happy with them when he saw.

Considering I had ditched them for Ricky for the first hour, and dodged most of the conversation with Kiki and Summer scrutinizing my every move, I never quite got a chance to talk to him. So after we all left The Alley, Vance and I met up at a little park between our houses and sat on the swings, just talking under the night sky.

Vance shook his head. “It’s ridiculous. She called twelve times today. She wants me to apologize and try to work things out.”

“Any second thoughts?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No. It was the right thing to do.”

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Their split had totally blindsided me. Not to mention the fact that he seemed to be perfectly fine. “No offense, but how come you’re taking this so well? I was always a wreck after breakups. And my relationships never lasted four years.”

He shrugged. “It just feels like it’s been over for a long time.”

I sniffed and muttered, “A long time, huh?” I wondered if Evelyn was aware of that. What was it about boys that they could move on in the blink of an eye, leaving us girls as blubbering messes for weeks? Months?

“What was that?” he questioned curiously.

“Nothing. You’re just… really well-adjusted.”

He flashed me a smile from his swing.

“What now?”

“You feel bad for her,” he said. “Don’t you?”

I bristled. “I can’t help it. You just dumped her out of nowhere and now you don’t care at all. I know how it feels to be that girl… it sucks.”

“It wasn’t out of nowhere. And it’s not that I don’t care, but things haven’t been good for awhile.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” I said, miffed. Sure, we hadn’t discussed their relationship recently, but he always seemed so happy. To me, he would always be the perfect boyfriend who practically swooned at the sound of her name and made plans for their anniversary months in advance.

Then I remembered the information I’d gleaned from Cole, Kiki and Summer at Honey’s. His real friends had an entirely different view of their relationship all along.

“Was she really controlling?”

He let out a long-winded sigh and looked straight out at the park, lost in his own thoughts. “She was.” Of course she was. It turned out his real friends were right, and I didn’t know him at all. “She thought she loved me, but… I’m not the guy she wanted me to be. I just want someone to know the real me, and like me anyway. Is that so wrong?”

A gasp escaped as I turned to look at him with wide eyes. Those were my words. About Lexi. Was it possible he had been living like that for all those years, too nice to say anything, like I had been? Always pretending, but underneath it all, never feeling quite good enough?

Vance deserved so much better than that. He was great just the way he was. He didn’t need to be changed, he needed to be appreciated. He deserved to be happy. And if he had finally grown the courage to say so, I couldn’t be anything but glad for him.

Perhaps
“congratulations”
was appropriate after all.

“Then… good for you, Vance,” I commiserated as a deeper understanding passed between us. It appeared I wasn’t the only one who wore a mask. “Because Evelyn should’ve appreciated you just the way you are.”

Side by side we sat on our swings, surrounded by nothing but trees and moonlight. Even though I would never wish heartbreak on my friend, or even my worst enemy, it was a necessary evil in life. And now, it turned out, we had something else in common after all.

“Want to switch your answer?” I said, referring back to that same early conversation. I wondered if he’d change his tune now that he had a firsthand taste of relationship failure. Given the circumstances, a bit of cynicism was something I could relate to. “Is it ever worth it?”

He looked at me sideways. “Of course it’s worth it.”

No dice.

“So you’d do it all over again? You’d risk sacrificing your sanity to chase the idea of love, knowing that the harder you fall, the worse it’ll hurt in the end?”

“Without a second thought. Sometimes love sucks…”

“I concur so far,” I interjected.

“…But as bad as it can be, I think it could be just as amazing. And that makes all the hard parts worth it. So you can’t let it keep you down. People come and go. But you can always hold the good times in your heart, even if that person’s no longer with you. You have to look back at everything that’s made life good, instead of why it isn’t now. Life isn’t something to endure, Rosie. It’s something to experience.”

His approach surprised me. He wasn’t trying to convince me of the existence of forever-love; he was acknowledging that sometimes it sucked but we shouldn’t be disheartened. To hold on to the good times of the past, and have hope for the future.
Hope…
I stared down at my lap, unable to understand how the good times could remain untainted once they’d crashed and burned.

“Maybe I’d just rather bear it alone.”

“No one can bear it alone. There must be some memory that makes your days a little brighter? Anyone? Heck. Anything?”

I shook my head dismissively. “For now it’s just easier to do the independent thing. Rely on nobody, and nobody lets you down.”

“That’s stupid,” he said plainly.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“You don’t have to bear it alone, you know,” he said softly. “It’s a heavy burden, even for a strong girl like you.”

“Life has made me strong,” I said, “Not hope.”

“Well just so you know, if you’d ever like someone to share the load, I’m always here.”

Even though I had no intention of taking him up on that, his offer made me smile. “You’re a good friend, Vance Holloway.”

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Easy? It’s not like talking to a brick wall?”

“You don’t agree with me on everything, but you listen. I kinda like that you challenge me.”

I laughed.
Challenging…
that sounded about right. “It’s been a long time since I had a conversation like this.”

“You and me both, Rosie. You and me both.”

I frowned, wondering how that could have been true when he’d had a girlfriend a mere two days ago. Communication seemed to come so naturally to Vance. Surely he had that with his girlfriend?

The more I learned about their relationship, the more I was convinced that he did the right thing in ending it. Someone as caring as Vance should not have been lonely or lacking in connection or intellectual stimulation. He deserved so much better than that.

I liked talking to Vance. He was a good listener and—not that I’d ever admit it—he made me look at things differently. He made the impossible seem possible. He didn’t make me feel so alone.

But instead of acknowledging it further, I dismissed it like I always did, and decided to ramble.

“We have this home movie where I am, like, maybe two or three years old, sitting in one of those diaper swings at a park. I keep saying ‘push me mommy, push me!’ but she just stands there and holds the camera on me. I don’t get it, who would rather watch a video of me whining for five minutes, than just pushing me on the damn swing?”

Vance smirked, accepting my conversation shift, and got off his swing to step behind mine. He gripped my chains and pulled back briefly, then released my seat into the air. I pumped my legs back and forth along with his gentle pushes on my back. And before long, I was flying high, wind in my face and laughter on my breath. Because even though Vance was the one going through a huge breakup, I was still the one who needed this.

Swings are truly magical in a way that you can never outgrow. They can make you forget all of life’s complications and take you back to a time when life was simple and carefree. I’d spent so long hiding in Ricky’s bedroom, distracting myself from my problems, I’d forgotten how good it felt to just be free for a little while.

In that moment, I was happy.

“It’ll be weird going back.”

It was the day of the big varsity football game, where the San Dimas Saints competed against our rivals, the Bonita Bearcats, for bragging rights as well as the huge, awkward-looking Smudgepot trophy.

Every year the whole town showed up to the Smudgepot game to root for their home team: students, graduates, parents and other locals. Even people like me who didn’t make a habit out of following sports or attending social events. It was the one time a year that the community banded together, sure to result in a mini reunion of sorts.

Tonight would be my second Smudgepot since graduating high school, and Vance’s third.

I sat on his kitchen’s granite countertop swinging my legs and eating the tater tots he just pulled out of the oven, while he opened a big brown box and assembled some kind of wicker chair. I liked his friends, honestly I did, but sometimes it felt like I had to tread lightly around them. So I cherished these moments where it was just me and him.

“I know,” I groaned in accord. “I’m
dreading
this, Vance. I’ve been avoiding this kind of situation ever since I moved back here. And tonight I’m walking straight into the lion’s den! Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Because this is your town, too. You can’t hide from them forever.”

“I’m not hiding from anyone,” I grumbled, “I just don’t care to see people from my past, is all.”

“I don’t mind seeing people I used to know,” he said, pensive. “It’s just that… I feel different. And all those people know me as someone I’m not anymore.”

I nodded. I could so relate to that. It wasn’t so much running into old friends that kick-started my anxiety; it was people looking at me and seeing the
old
Scarlett. And it was the same for him. High school Scarlett was a little blond pushover. High school Vance was Evelyn’s tight-leashed boyfriend. Reputations like that were difficult to change in a small town.

“How’s it going?” I inquired. “With the breakup?”

He sighed. “She still calls. She told me all her friends took her out to a party last weekend and she met some lifeguard.” He rolled his eyes.

“Ooh, a rebound!” I clasped my hands together in fun. “And was Mr. Baywatch enough to help her get over you?”

“I hope so,” he shuttered. Then his nose scrunched in annoyance. “She’s also telling everyone that our breakup was mutual.”

“And it wasn’t?”

“Not even close,” he shook his head, frustrated. “It’s just typical Evelyn. She always has to be in control. It’s ridiculous.”

“Well, she’s no longer your problem. Just ignore her calls, talking to her will only frustrate you more.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s habit.”

“Well then, friend, we’ll have to get you a patch.”

He stood, eyeing me. “At least people can tell by looking at you that you’ve changed. I wonder how many times tonight people are going to come up and ask me where she is.”

I pondered that. “You can do something different, too, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Well… when I felt different, I found a way to express it.” I said, twirling my finger around a shiny black ringlet. Vance was right—I looked like a totally new person from the last time I had stepped foot on our alma mater. Thanks to all the ice cream and pancakes, I was pretty much back to my normal weight. But everything else had changed. My hair was darker, my skin more pale, and life had irrevocably aged my eyes.

Vance eyed the ebony strand warily. “That might be a bit much for me.”

I flicked the curl behind my shoulder. “So find what works for you. You don’t have to dye your hair. You can change your shoes or get a tattoo or anything in between.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” He looked down at his checkered Vans, mildly offended.

“Nothing’s
wrong
with any of it, Vance. That’s not what I mean. You’re at a turning point in your life where you have to be true to
yourself
. Not to Princess Evelyn, not to anyone else. All that matters is—what would make
you
feel better?”

“This chair would make me feel better.” He took a step back and grinned widely, tossing his tools aside. “And it’s ready.”

I eyed the round chair with a thick, forest green cushion. It looked about as cozy as a futon. “It doesn’t look revolutionary to me.”

“Then you’ve never sat in a papasan before.”

“Papa-wha?”

He chuckled. “Come here. You can have the honors.”

I jumped off the counter and walked over to the chair, shooting Vance a skeptical look before sitting down.

“Oh… good… gracious.” I murmured, closing my eyes and melting into the seat.

“It’s like sitting on a cloud, right?” he said, proud.

“This is the most comfortable piece of furniture in the history of my ass!”

He barked out a loud laugh at that.

“Seriously, Vance. I am in love with your papaya.”

“Whatever it takes to make you a believer again. And it’s a
papasan
.”

“Whatever. Now leave us be.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Have fun at the game tonight. Go get ’em, Saints!”

He stood over me with amusement. “Did you just jack my revolution?”

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, for once trying to see past the surface. Underneath his smile, I recognized something in his expression that looked as familiar as my own reflection: searching. It was the face of a young man caught somewhere between his past and present.

“I have an idea,” I said, nervous. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” he answered immediately.

“Follow me.”

I made him sit on the edge of the tub so I could reach. He usually let his hair go untamed, thick brown waves framing his face and curling up over his ears. I wetted my hands and ran my fingers through his hair to loosen it up until every strand was damp.

“So what does one have to do to become an Eagle Scout?” I asked, filling the silence.

“You have to… uh… earn merit badges for demonstrating leadership skills. First aid, fitness, wilderness, and other personal management stuff. Then you have to do a community project…”

I scooped out a bit of gel and spread it over Vance’s hair, massaging it in. When it was thoroughly slicked, I used my hands to part it twice, separating his hair into three sections. The middle was easiest. Using both hands, I lightly pressed his hair between both palms and molded it up and forward, coming together at the top and creating a line straight back. I moved directly in front of him to make sure it looked good, and corrected a few stray pieces. The sides were a little trickier. I tousled my fingers through the soft waves to get them sticking up and curled slightly inward.

I had given him a fohawk.

It was fun, edgy, and perfect if he wanted to try something different for one night. He was boyishly attractive with his hair curling over his ears. But with it sticking up and out of his face, he certainly looked… different… good, different.

Not such a Boy Scout anymore.

“There.” I stepped aside when it was finally finished and turned to look at him in the mirror, hoping he wouldn’t hate what he saw.

But when I found his face in the mirror, he wasn’t looking at his reflection… he was looking at me.

And I couldn’t read his expression.

I turned to face him—the real him sitting beside me—and met his deep, inquisitive eyes. They were green. Olive green, to be precise. I’d never paid much attention to the exact shade before. They were intriguing. And so open, so steady, it was almost alarming. It twisted something inside of me, though I couldn’t identify what. Part of me wanted to decipher the thoughts behind those eyes. Something was brewing behind them. Something indistinguishable.

The longer he sat without saying anything, the more my anxiety spiked.

“If you hate it, I’ll change it back,” I said softly. “I’ll wash it out. We can think of something else.”

He looked at me for another long moment before he finally turned toward the mirror. Upon seeing his reflection, his lips curled up on one side. “It rocks,” he said, twisting to see it from different angles.

I let out a breath of air and grinned.

“Will you do the honors?” he asked, handing me the hairspray.

* * *

Trumpets blared and drums thundered through the air as we entered the crowded stadium. Blue and gold were everywhere—t-shirts and flags, painted faces and colored hair. The ground was peppered with popcorn and confetti. Everyone had come to the infamous Smudgepot game to root for their home team.

The stands were so packed, there was no hope to find open seating for our group of six. So we stood in front of the chain linked fence by the scoreboard. Cole watched the game intently. Summer and Kiki cheered for the players and took selfies, simultaneously. Gwen chattered away on her cell, ignoring the game and everyone around her. Vance stood a few feet away, talking to two giggly girls with pigtails and blue glitter on their cheeks. I smiled knowingly. Freshly single and rockin’ a new ‘do. He was going to get swarmed.

Sure, Summer was still acting strange, and I was a little on edge thinking about who I might run into tonight, but for the moment I was… fine.

“Hey kiddo.”

I turned around and smiled up at Ricky. Seeing him in public was becoming less weird, although it was still quite a shock to see him at the Smudgepot game. School spirit didn’t seem like his thing, especially for a high school that had expelled him during his senior year.

“Hey,” I nudged him with my shoulder. “I’m surprised you’re here!”

He shrugged. “I wanted to see a few people.”

That’s funny. I was trying to avoid a few people. I guess it didn’t make any sense why I was here, either.

I smiled up at him. “You find who you were looking for?”

And there it was. That tiny ghost of a smile on his lips, the fondness in his gray eyes. The look reserved for only me.

“Come with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask where we were going. Didn’t even stop to tell Vance or his friends. Everyone was preoccupied; they probably wouldn’t even notice. Besides, if Ricky led me far enough away, the chances of anyone approaching me were significantly slimmer. So I simply followed.

We made our way through the hordes of people. Every now and then, girls would call out his name. Whether it was a seductive purr or a bubbly squeal, it was never just Ricky, it was always
Ricky Storm
. He shot his signature smirk in their direction, but never stopped to respond.

A few of them noticed him towing me along and shot me dirty looks. Aware that I couldn’t show any weakness in front of girls like that, I lifted my chin and looked straight ahead. I knew Ricky was a bit of a player, but it was one of those things we never discussed. When we hung out together, we existed in our own little bubble. Relationships and other personal topics were of the “don’t ask, don’t tell” variety.

Once we crossed into Bearcat territory, he slipped his jacket around my shoulders to hide the Saints’ telltale blue layered under my black sweater. Their bleachers were equally filled with green and just as cramped and loud as ours. It felt good to disappear in a sea of unfamiliar faces. And I was comfortable walking next to Ricky. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter, and neither did I.

After a few minutes of walking, we ended up in front of the chain linked fence—an area not unlike the spot we’d just left—and it made me realize something. Ricky didn’t actually have a destination in mind to take me to, he just saw that I needed an escape from my current situation and removed me. Like he had so many times before.

We stood quietly and observed the game and its fans from this side of the field, until two boys approached and greeted Ricky with fist bumps.

“Hey! It’s Texas!” one of them shouted. I would recognize those dreadlocks anywhere.

“Hi Farrell,” I returned his greeting.

“You here to bluff me out of all my money again?”

His teasing was friendly. “I wasn’t the one who ended up with your money.” I bumped my hip into Ricky’s. “And no, just tagging along for a bit.”

“And who’s this,” the second guy asked, eyeing me, “the little protégé?”

I didn’t know this new person, but I could see how he thought that, especially sporting Ricky’s jacket and my dyed black hair. I knew who Ricky was to me, but who was I to him? A quick glance at Ricky’s distant, stoic expression proved to be no help. I forced a small smile and shrugged.

“A quiet one, huh? I’ll take that as a yes.”

Farrell chuckled at his friend then looked to us. “You guys got plans after the game?”

“We’re headin’ to Xavier’s to celebrate,” the stranger said. “You in?”

Celebrate?
The scoreboard was most definitely not in their favor right now. I raised an eyebrow. “Wishful thinking?”