“I don’t know what you mean,” I sniffed, trying my best to sound both innocent and offended at the same time.
I could practically hear my best friend roll her eyes through the phone.
“Macy.” One word, perfectly conveyed disbelief. I sighed.
“Okay, fine. There might be a small amount of obsessive behavior going on. How did you know?”
“Because I’ve known you since kindergarten, that’s how. Mace, seriously. Anyone who would do what he did isn’t worth the time that it takes to obsess over him. Instead of wasting your time going over every detail, and yes, I know that’s what you are doing, you should be plotting your revenge. And I mean, in a big way.”
Apparently, she hadn’t heard my new ringtone. I was way ahead of her on that one.
“Yeah, I should totally get on that.” I tried to sound innocent again.
“Have you showered yet?”
I looked down at my unwashed body clad in old sweats and nodded.
“Yep. Why?”
Loud sigh, long pause.
“Macy, jump in the shower. I’ll be over in two.”
And she was gone. And since she only lived two streets over, I knew that I literally only had two minutes to shower before she arrived and saw for herself that I had lied. I dropped the phone and ran for the bathroom.
2.5 minutes later, I was still rinsing the conditioning balm out of my hair when her smug voice drifted through the steam.
“So, how’s that shower coming along?”
Did I mention that my BFF is a total snot?
“Does the word ‘annoying’ mean anything to you?” I shot over the shower wall.
“Yeah, um, I would think that after taking a pumice stone to yourself last night, that that hot water probably feels pretty
annoying
, doesn’t it?”
She was right again. Yesterday, after someone had ‘mistakenly’ texted me a video of my boyfriend Derek doing the nasty with Tara Wilson at Haley Beckman’s party last weekend, I had felt the urgent need to vigorously (and I mean vigorously!) wash every place that Derek had ever touched me.
It had taken a while.
I had stayed in the shower with my loofah, scrubbing myself until the water turned cold and my skin was bright pink, until I was certain that I had scrubbed away any memory of his touch. And Jess was right. My skin was a little sensitive (and still pink) today. The hot water was annoying right now, to say the least.
I turned it off and took the thick blue towel that Jess handed to me.
Toweling off, I stepped into a clean bra and undies and pivoted on the stone tile to face my friend. She tucked her light brown bob behind her ear as she watched me contemplatively with her lips pursed.
“Why are you here, anyway? I was perfectly happy obsessing alone. And don’t roll your eyes. They’re going to get stuck one of these days.” I tossed my wet towel in her face as I walked back into my room to get dressed.
“I came to plot revenge. I already told you that,” she reminded me as I dug through my drawers for a pair of jeans and my favorite comfy tee-- the light purple one that said MAN EATER across the boobs. It was perfect for my mood.
“What makes you think I need help with that? Trust me, that part’s coming pretty easily right now. I need
you
to reign me in.”
She grinned her ornery Jessa grin at me, the one that lit up her entire face and made me instantly nervous about the fate of mankind, with an emphasis on the
man.
Women probably didn’t have much to worry about, well, except for maybe Tara Wilson.
“Yeah, don’t count on me for that part. I already have plans.”
As she spoke, she dug through my closet, pulling out Derek’s favorite red hoodie that I had borrowed after our last swim meet, his letter jacket that I wore to make him feel good even when it was too warm outside, the oversized stuffed bunny that he won for me at a carnival, the pink hoodie that he bought for my birthday… and threw it all promptly into a pile in the middle of my room.
As she moved to my dresser to continue her search, I stared at her in confusion.
“What the hell are you doing, Jess? Have you lost your mind? I’m going to have to clean all that up!”
In answer, she tossed the lacy black bra that had also been a birthday gift from my lying ex-boyfriend onto the pile. I was beginning to sense a pattern.
“Hey, I like that one...” I stepped forward to rescue it, but she silenced me with a stare and I stopped in my tracks.
“The
asshole
bought it for you, Mace. We’re not keeping it. We’ll get you another one.”
I stepped back silently, marveling at the way she said
we’ll
, as if it was
her
bra that she was throwing out. As I moved, my attention was snagged by the lovenotes taped to my mirror. His sprawling, bold script mocked me now.
I love you today.
You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.
You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
My heart is the property of Macy Lockhart.
Lies. All of it.
I suddenly saw red, something that has never happened to me in my entire life. I was literally so pissed off that my vision blurred together in a swirl of inky red shades and I couldn’t think straight. In my mind, all I could see were his lips; the luscious, soft lips that had kissed me so many times, kissing a trail down Tara Wilson’s neck right after whispering obscene dirty-talk into her ear. And I was seeing red again.
In my underwear and bra, I furiously ripped every single note off the mirror one-by-one and threw them violently onto the big pile on the floor. Jessa watched with a satisfied grin as I got further into the spirit and added his favorite CD to the top of the heap and then another. A few minutes later, I gazed at the large mound in satisfaction. I felt a tiny bit better seeing his things littering my floor like unwanted garbage.
Staring at the pitiful pile of bad memories, I realized that I desperately wanted to set fire to it. But, obviously, that would be crazy. And probably against some sort of city ordinance. Plus, it would also burn my house down. So, I settled for pulling on a pair of boots and stomping on it instead…like an insane Italian woman making wine. After the very last cd had been adequately smashed and my legs were literally shaking from the effort, I finally turned to Jessa.
“Okay, now I’m ready to go,” I announced, slightly out of breath from the exertion and still almost naked…except for my boots, of course.
She stared at me wide-eyed and then burst into laughter. I couldn’t help but giggle too, as I imagined what I must look like…face flushed and half-naked and insane.
“Go where?” she gasped as she laughed.
“To Derek’s house, of course,” I answered matter-of-factly. “I need to drop a few of his things off.”
I stared pointedly at the broken pile of his belongings and then cracked up again in a high-pitched giggle that bordered on hysterical. I should feel guilty for ruining his things, but I SO didn’t. It almost seemed like Poetic Justice since he had broken my heart. I really just hoped he wasn’t home when we got there. In the mood I was in, I might be tempted to slash his tires.
I quickly pulled on my MAN EATER shirt and we piled into Jessa’s little blue Volkswagen bug because she didn’t think I was up to driving, even the short distance to Derek’s house. She was probably right. Two minutes and three streets later, we pulled up onto his driveway right behind his little black Ford Ranger with the dent in the fender.
He was home. I fought the itch in my fingers to dig a tire iron out of Jessa’s trunk and give it a matching dent on the other side. It was so very tempting. But I resisted, using an extraordinary amount of self-restraint.
We climbed out and I reached into the backseat to pull out the trash bag filled with his broken belongings as Jess watched me in anticipation.
“What are you going to do with it?” she asked curiously, her light blue eyes developing a sadistic gleam.
Without hesitation, I marched straight to the bed of his truck, emptying his things out over the side. Everything tumbled out, small pieces of his CDs scattering onto his bed liner like the trash that it was. My battered black bra settled to a rest on the top of the pile, a garish reminder of the intimacy we used to share. Grabbing it, I looped it around his antenna, letting it hang as a limp banner for everyone to see. I could only imagine his mother’s face when she saw it.
I smiled in grim satisfaction as Jess started laughing again. And then I remembered his class ring. Pulling it off of my middle finger, I tossed it in as well, listening to the metallic clink as it bounced along the truck bed. It tumbled to a stop, the blue stone glittering in the light.
And then his front door creaked open. I froze in panic as he stepped onto the porch, bare-chested and in a pair of running shorts. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might actually come face to face with him. Now what?
“Macy?”
He stepped lightly from the porch and walked towards us, his handsome face hopeful. My heart started racing as he approached, his blonde hair wet from a shower. He smelled so clean and masculine. I steeled myself with the reminder that I hated him now. He was no longer my perfect, green-eyed Poseidon.
“I’m so glad you came,” he sighed as he reached for me. “I was afraid that you were never going to speak to me again.”
I side-stepped out of his reach and glared at him.
“I’m not planning on it,” I spit, beginning to see red again.
Did he seriously think I was such a pathetic push-over? That he could humiliate me in front of the entire school and I would just forget about it? That his little frownie-face on his ‘please talk to me’ text yesterday had worked? Not hardly. Not even close.
“I had some of your things at my house and needed to return them.” I gestured toward the back of his truck. He circled the fender and peered inside.
“What the…” his astonished gaze flew to my face.
I couldn’t quite blame him for being surprised. I was normally such an easy-going person. I wasn’t accustomed to fits of rage. I had to admit though, it was pretty satisfying. I stared directly into his green eyes.
“See you around,” I murmured coolly, walking past him and dropping into the front seat of Jessa’s car.
She quickly started the engine and backed out of the driveway before Derek could say another word. As we pulled away, he stared after us dejectedly. I desperately pushed down the guilty feelings. He deserved nothing less than this. He had broken my heart by impaling it with one of Tara Wilson’s tacky stiletto heels.
As we pulled back up to the curb in front of my house, Jess turned to me.
“Do you want me to come in?”
Her voice was doubtful because she knew me well. She knew that after the huge rush of revenge, I was going to crash down hard and would want to mope alone. And she was right.
I shook my head.
“No thanks, Jess. I’m just going to suffer in silence tonight.” I looked at my driveway, where my mom’s shiny silver car was now parked. “And I won’t be alone, so you don’t have to worry. Thank you for coming over.”
The smile that I gave her was starting to get a little watery. Uh-oh. I needed to make a run for it before I started bawling. I reached for the door handle.
“Okay,” she reached over to hug me. “But don’t forget, Mace… this is his problem, not yours. You’re perfect and he’s an idiot. Call me if you need me.”
I nodded and got out, rushing without a backward glance toward my brightly lit house.
I’d barely stepped in the back door, though, before my mom waylaid me. So much for suffering in silence. My chattery mother didn’t know the meaning of the word.
“Macy, is that you?” she shouted from the kitchen.
“Yes,” I called as I kicked my shoes off inside the door.
Who else would it be? My dad hasn’t stepped foot in this house since last year, something he complained about regularly since he still had to pay half of the mortgage payment. Mom appeared in the doorway with a piece of half-wilted lettuce in her hand.
“Was that Jessa?”
I nodded.
“She missed her check-up today. She probably hasn’t been flossing and was afraid to see me.”
That was probably exactly right. My mom had been Jess and Jenn’s dentist since they had cut their first teeth- and she regularly slapped them on the backs of their heads when they didn’t floss. Literally smacked them. Italians are colorful people.
“Oh, hey. While I’m thinking about it… this was on the porch for you.”
She ducked back into the kitchen and re-emerged holding a small brown box out to me. It had my first name written on the top in bold black marker and nothing else. I didn’t recognize the writing.
I raised my eyebrows as I stared at her questioningly.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, honey. It’s yours. I didn’t open it. Maybe Derek left it for you as an apology.”
She shrugged nonchalantly, but the interested expression on her face betrayed her. She was dying to know what it was.
I carefully opened the top and peered inside. For all I knew, Tara had left me a bomb. But it was harmless. A necklace glittered within tissue-papered folds.
“It’s a necklace,” I stated simply.
Mom gave up on subtlety and yanked the box from my hands, pulling the odd necklace out to examine it in the light. It was the most unique stone I had ever seen… a dark red quartzy looking thing, the size of half my fist with veins of black running through it. It was beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it.
“It’s a bloodstone,” mom observed. “You don’t see these much anymore. And they’re usually green, with only a little red. This one is very unique. It has to be from Derek. He knows how much you love old things.”