Authors: LD Davis
“How do you feel about me going out with Leslie?” he asked after his laughter died down.
“Why would I care? I dislike you, but Leslie is allowed to feel however she feels about you.”
He was quiet for several seconds, before softly answering with a simple “yeah.”
There was another stretch of silence, and Leo looked at me with such an intensity that I couldn’t look away if I tried. I was tied to his sea-colored eyes. He sat up straight and leaned in too close to me. Too,
too
close. I stopped breathing. Why did I stop breathing? I hated him!
“You don’t really hate me, right?” he asked so, so softly.
My head answered him without my permission. It moved slowly, back and forth, back and forth.
A small, nervous laugh escaped Leo’s mouth. Warm, sweet air burst onto my face, but I didn’t back away. I was still glued to his eyes. I sucked in more air as Leo bent forward, hooking his finger under my necklace. He took a bite of the candy, and he was so close that his nose lightly brushed my cheek. I couldn’t exhale and I was pretty sure my heart stopped beating.
“My heart is beating super-fast right now,” he whispered, his breath so close to my mouth.
I was about to ask why is heart was beating so fast while mine was failing, but the sound of my brother’s bedroom door opening down the hall was like a crack of thunder right in our faces. I blinked and woke up. I jumped off of the bed faster than I have ever jumped off of the bed in my life and Leo also hastily got to his feet. When Tack came into my room, Leo and I were standing on opposite sides of the bed, packing up our math paraphernalia.
“Pesciano, I am officially kicking you the hell out of my house now,” Tack said, yawning. “I want to go to sleep and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave a kid with your reputation alone with my sister this late at night.”
“He’s getting ready to go now,” I said, keeping my eyes down.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Tack offered. I heard him clap Leo on the back. “I’ll be outside in the car. You got exactly two minutes.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I heard Tack leave the room and jog down the stairs as I zipped up my backpack.
“Um,” Leo mumbled, sounding very unsure of himself.
I finally looked up and met his nervous eyes.
“Thanks again, Leo,” I said, forcing a smile. “I think I’ll do really well tomorrow.”
“Sure.” He shifted from foot to foot. “But I—”
“And Leslie is a great girl,” I said hurriedly. “Technically, she’s not even allowed to have a boyfriend, but I think her parents will cave. Like I said, I don’t like you myself, but Leslie likes you a lot.”
Leo stood up straighter. His expression had been hesitant, but it suddenly turned normal, normal for Leo. He was smirking again.
“Thanks, Tacky,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t say that I am looking forward to it,” I replied with a tight smile.
He shrugged his shoulders, flashed me a devious grin, and walked out of my room.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and closed my door.
One week later, Leo and Leslie started officially dating. I was happy my friend got the boy she wanted. I told myself that over and over again as I felt the slightly sticky spot on my neck from the candy moistened by Leo’s lips.
Even as a well behaved teenager that stayed out of trouble and brought home straight A’s—even in math, thanks to Leo’s help—I did not have a good relationship with my parents. I didn’t have a bad relationship with my parents, either. I just didn’t have
any
relationship with them. I never went without. I always had food, clothing, and a roof over my head. If I wanted money for a movie or to go roller-skating, I asked for it and I received it. We always had cable and computers, a finished basement complete with a pool table and video games. I was allowed to have friends over and I didn’t have a curfew or any rules really, but then again, I didn’t need any. I didn’t go many places or do many things. I had a lot of possessions to make the life of a teenage girl comfortable, as if possessions were all that mattered in the world.
My father worked hard, long hours at a plant not far from our house. He had no idea what to do with a teenage girl, what to talk about or even how to talk to me at all. So, he didn’t. He knew how to talk to my brother though. They had long conversations about football, basketball, soccer, cars, and colleges—and even sex. My mother had a vagina and breasts, so one would think that since she and I at least had that in common, we would have a foundation for a relationship. Throw in some common DNA and we should have been well on our way to a beautiful relationship. Should have…but didn’t.
My mother doted on my brother as if he were a king and she was his lowly servant. Theodore “Tack” Tackard was a big ball of energy that my mother orbited around day and night. He was a star athlete, president of the student council, a scholar, and an all-around good guy. He even volunteered his time as a big brother and as a counselor at a junior football camp during the summers. He had sandy blond hair that swept across his forehead in a way that drove the girls crazy and his blue eyes twinkled when he flashed his deep-dimpled smile. My brother was the epitome of the All American Boy and my mom loved every bit of it.
When Tack was just a little kid, Mom was the football mom, the soccer mom, the baseball mom, the hockey mom. She didn’t mind carpooling the other kids, she never missed a practice, nor did she ever miss a game. She saw every touchdown, every home run, every pitch, and every goal. She knew about every paper he had to write, every test he had to take, and thought he was the smartest kid in the world when he brought home a C plus.
Our parents also took Tack at his word for everything he said, no matter what it was. He wasn’t drinking, he didn’t smoke pot, he didn’t have sex with a girl behind the football bleachers—even though the vice principal claimed to have caught them in the act.
They especially listened to Tack where I was concerned. It didn’t happen very often, but if Tack told my parents not to allow me to do something, they listened to him without even considering my argument. At the beginning of spring break of my freshman year of high school, Tack was threatening to tell my parents on me. I wasn’t afraid of my mom and dad, but Tack was ready to go to extremes and have them ship me off to my cousin Emmy’s for the weekend to prevent me from going to a party. My cousin was cool, but her mother drove me bananas, and even though they were a welcoming bunch, I always felt out of place there.
Rico Havarez was having one of the biggest parties of the year, and even though dozens of people would end up crashing it anyway, he had given me a personal invite. Rico was a senior, like my brother. We had an art class together and we had shared the same table since September. Naturally, we became friendly. There were always rumors flying through the halls about Rico, but rumors were an ever-changing animal. What was rumored to be true on Monday usually warped into some other version of truth by Wednesday. I typically gave people the benefit of doubt, but I had to learn the hard way that particular weekend that I couldn’t always do that.
Tack had forbidden me from going to the party. Usually, I obeyed my brother. I loved him, respected him, and looked up to him. As I said, I was a pretty good kid, but I really wanted to go to that party. I knew it would be a crazy time and I wanted to do something crazy. I always colored between the lines, but I was feeling a little rebellious. Leslie had branched out, made new friends and gone to a few parties throughout the year. She wouldn’t be at that particular one because she was going away for the break, but I thought it was a perfect time for me to begin to venture out on my own.
“I’m going with Sandy and her cousin. It’s not like I’m going as Rico’s date,” I said gently to my brother. “We’re just buddies, Tack. It’s not like I’m going there so I can make out with him in some dark corner.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet that’s just exactly what he intends to do,” Tack said. “Look, Tabitha, I get it, okay? You’re a freshman, you’ve always been this nerdy bookworm type of girl, and a popular senior asks you to go to a party. Your girly parts are all happy and hormonal and I’m sure you and Leslie did this funky dance-giggle thing after you told her about it, but Rico is not as nice as he’s pretending to be. He is not a good guy, and I don’t want you to find out the hard way.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what Tack was talking about, but I didn’t think it applied to me. I spent an hour a day with Rico, five days a week for months. I never got the impression that he was into me like that. We painted, sculpted, sketched, and talked about music, television, football, and our art teacher’s wardrobe. We cracked jokes, shared snacks that one of us smuggled into class, and complimented and critiqued each other’s work. He never did or said anything inappropriate, only touched me to get my attention, and never ever mentioned that he wanted to make out with me in some dark corner.
Tack was wrong. He misunderstood my buddy-buddy relationship with Rico, and he definitely didn’t see that I was not Rico’s type. Rico did not do chubby, ‘nerdy bookworm’ types.
“Do I have to tell Mom?” Tack asked me. He looked reluctant to tattle on me and he probably was. “I’m not going to be here to keep you from going, but if you’re at Emmy’s…”
“No, you don’t have to tell Mom,” I answered quietly and then lied. “I won’t go.”
“That was a beautiful sibling moment,” Leo said from the backseat, clapping slowly.
I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to throw something at him. On bad weather days, or days when Tack wasn’t busy with other things, he gave Leo, Leslie, and I a ride home from school. Leo still had a special knack for annoying me, though not as frequently as before. But he was monopolizing Leslie’s time, and for that, I was bitter. It was bad enough that I was losing her to her new friends, but Leo was taking her away from me, too.
“You’re destroying her childhood,” Leslie argued from the back. “It’s a rite of passage for a freshman to go to a senior’s party—a senior who isn’t her dorky brother.”
“Stay out of this, Leslie,” Tack growled, glaring at her in the rearview mirror. “Or you can walk home.”
“Too late, Tackleberry,” Leslie said, and she was right. The car slowed to a stop at the edge of her driveway. She leaned forward and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked into her crystal blue, apologetic eyes. “There will be other parties,” she said soothingly.
I knew Leslie well enough to know that she believed that I was going to obey my brother and stay home with a book and Saturday night television. It only made me feel more rebellious.
“Have fun in Jamaica,” I said, forcing a smile for my best friend as she threw open her door.
“Totally.” She beamed. “I’ll bring you back a hot chocolate Jamaican guy. Thanks for the ride, Tackleberry.”
“You’re welcome. Now get out of my car,” Tack demanded.
Leslie leaned in to Leo for a kiss. I turned away before their lips met, but still heard it, a moist, soft sound that somehow hurt my ears. Leslie said her goodbyes to me again before exiting the car and running to her front door.
I thought the conversation was over, but as we continued down the road, Tack continued. “If I were going to be there to watch over you, I’d let you go. I want you to have fun, Tabby, but Rico doesn’t treat girls well.”
“Says the senior slut?” I almost laughed. My brother was kissing a new girl every week.
“I would never make any girl feel uncomfortable—in a bad way,” Tack said hurriedly.
I didn’t understand until later exactly what he had meant by that. “Is there a good way of making a girl feel uncomfortable?” I asked, dubious.
Tack laughed softly. “Someday, some guy is going to make you feel uncomfortable—in a good way. I’ll still want to bash his face in, but you’ll know what I mean then.”
I was reminded of that night on my bed after Leo tutored me, how he had captured me with his eyes and sat so very close to me. I could still feel his whisper on my face close to my mouth as he told me that his heart was beating super-fast, and feel the moist spot on my neck from the candy that had been in his mouth. That was uncomfortable, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good uncomfortable.
I glanced at Leo in the back seat. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile appeared at one corner of his mouth as he looked back at me, but then it was gone and he looked away.
Leo came home with us that day. Our English teacher had stuck us together on a project that was due when we returned from our break, but even though Leo and I didn’t agree on much, we did agree to finish up the project as soon as possible so it wouldn’t hang over our heads during our time off.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked Leo after we dropped our stuff on the dining room table. “Like antifreeze? Cyanide?”
“Oh, you’re too kind, Tacky,” he said, touching a hand to his heart. “As much as I’d love a trip to the morgue today, I think I’ll settle for a Coke instead, free of any of your personal touches, of course.”
“How disappointing,” I responded before leaving the room.
I walked into the kitchen where my mother was peeling potatoes. Something meaty was roasting in the oven. The aroma was mouthwatering. I was tempted to open the oven and peer inside, but my mother hated that. She said it released all of the heat and made the cooking process longer, but the few times I saw Tack do it, my mom said nothing to him. He was her golden boy. We could do the same exact things, but I would always be the one to get in trouble for it.
“Where’s your brother?” Mom asked when I entered.
“I guess he’s in his room.”
“Did he have a good day, do you know? Did he sign up for baseball?”
I pulled two Coke’s out of the fridge. Shaking one of the cans vigorously, I said, “I don’t know and I don’t know.”
She didn’t ask me how my day was, or how my latest math test went, or anything about school. I was used to it, so I didn’t hang around to wait for it. My mother’s main focus had always been Tack. Tack was a superstar, had been one since peewee football, and great things were expected of him.
I had just handed Leo his Coke and sat down when Mom came in, carrying a letter.
“I forgot to tell you this came for you today,” she said, tossing it on the table in front of me. She walked away without waiting for a response.
I stared at the letter for a moment. It was from a university in Pennsylvania that had a writing program that was offered to a select few high school students. My application had consisted of various questions about my life and hobbies, and I had to submit a short story with it. I didn’t expect to be chosen. There were plenty of kids in the area that deserved it just as much, if not more than I did.
“Don’t just stare at it,” Leo said quietly from across the table. “Open it.”
I looked up at him, surprised for a moment before I remembered discussing it with Leslie in front of Leo. He knew what I was holding in my hands. I let my eyes fall back to the letter.
“It’s okay if I didn’t get in,” I said with a shrug.
Okay? It would not be okay. My pounding heart and sweaty palms were strong indicators of it so not being okay if I didn’t get in. I wanted it, and even if someone else did deserve it more than me, it didn’t mean I wanted it any less.
“You deserve to get in,” Leo said seriously. I gave him a cautious look because he was being nice. “Open it already.”
I took a deep breath and tore the envelope open.
“I got in!” I slapped the table. “Yes!”
“Congratulations,” Leo smiled at me as I jumped up to go tell my mom. When I reached the threshold, I heard the popping sound as he opened his can of soda, and then the liquid-like explosive noise as Coke splattered all over him. “Oh fu—”
“Mom!” I shook the paper at her. “The university accepted me into their writing program!”
“That’s great, Tabitha,” she said with a genuine smile.
“I know it’s going to be an inconvenience since it’s in the city, but it’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” I gushed and then squealed with happiness.
“I need a towel,” Leo said lamely from the doorway.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your brother’s games, it’s okay,” Mom said, handing Leo a roll of paper towels. She didn’t seem at all concerned with the fact that soda was dripping from his face and soaking his shirt.
The grin on my face faltered some as I clutched the paper. “Well, it will be every Saturday from nine to one,” I said. “I’m sure Tack will be okay if you’re a little late or miss a couple of games. It’s only for a few weeks.”