Authors: Buffy Andrews
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Literary, #Family Life, #Sagas
“We don’t have much to talk about anymore,” Olivia says. “All she wants to talk about are the girls on her cheerleading squad and the guys on the football team. She’s changed. Or maybe I have.”
The bus turns into their street, lined with towering maple trees. They go about two blocks until the bus puts on its flashing yellow then red lights and stops. A red stop sign swings out from the side.
Olivia follows Lexie off the bus. They walk in front of the bus, pausing to look both ways in case an idiot decides to ignore the flashing red lights and stop sign. It happened the other week at a stop across town and a kindergartner was injured. Luckily the bus driver got the license-plate number and they caught the jerk.
When Olivia and Lexie get to the other side, the bus retracts its stop sign, turns off the lights and pulls away.
“So, are you going to think about it?” Lexie asks.
“Sure,” Olivia says. “Maybe I’ll say something to Mom tonight on our way to dance. See what she thinks.”
I never went to a homecoming dance. No guy ever asked me and, at my school, if you weren’t asked by a guy, you didn’t go. The idea of a bunch of girls — or guys — going as a group was a more recent development in the history of high school homecomings. Besides, I wouldn’t have had anything to wear. And I certainly could never ask Grandma to buy me a fancy dress for just one night. And the costs didn’t stop there. Even if you did your own hair and nails and didn’t tan or buy the photo package, you still had to pay for the ticket and flowers. That alone was more than we could afford.
Tracey Carmichael had to rub it in that she and Chase were going to the homecoming. Her dad did the whole limo thing, too. Only hers was going to be a white stretch limousine with a fiber-optic starlight. I knew this because she made it a point one day to stop and tell me as she and Chase were walking by. I’m sure she waited until Chase was with her.
Tracey stopped in front of my locker as I was bent over getting the books I needed. “What color’s your dress?”
I stood up and turned around. “Excuse me?”
“Your homecoming dress. What color is it?”
“I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
I knew that Tracey knew the answer to that question and the only reason she asked it was because she wanted to embarrass me in front of Chase.
“I have something else that night,” I lied.
“Glad to hear it’s not because you don’t have a date,” Chase said. “Because I’m sure there are a ton of guys who would love to take you.”
Tracey jabbed Chase in his side with her boney elbow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She emphasized the “that”.
“I’m just sayin’ that Sarah’s a pretty girl and there are probably lots of guys who would take her,” Chase explained.
Uh-oh. I was in trouble again. Chase said that word “pretty”. I knew that he was only trying to be polite, but Tracey was going to make me pay – again.
“What do you think of going to homecoming with a group of girls?” Olivia asks Elizabeth while driving to dance. Now that Olivia trains at the most prestigious dance academy in the state, there’s always plenty of time to talk on the hour drive there and back.
“Sounds fun to me,” Elizabeth says. “A daughter of a lady who works for me did that. She said they had more fun than if they had gone with boys they barely knew. Apparently guys go in groups, too. So who would you go with? Emma?”
“Emma has a date. She’s going with a football player. He’s a junior.”
“Really?” Elizabeth says. “I’m surprised her parents let her date someone so much older.”
“Not everyone is as protective and as strict as you, Mom.”
“I don’t think your dad and I are too strict. We just don’t see that you need to go out with an older guy. There are plenty of boys your own age.”
“You can have sex with a younger guy just as easily as you can have sex with an older one.”
Elizabeth coughs. “Lib, I didn’t say anything about having sex.”
“You didn’t have to. I know what you were thinking. Besides, you don’t have to worry, Mom. I’m not going to have sex for a long time.”
“A long, long time, I hope,” Elizabeth says. “But now that you brought it up, I have been wanting to talk to you about some things.”
“I know all about the birds and the bees, Mom.”
“I’m sure you do. But I want you to know that when you think you’re ready for that kind of relationship. When you think you’re mature enough to handle that kind of relationship and the emotional baggage that comes with it. Please, for the love of God, talk to me. I will put you on birth control. You know that I don’t want you to have sex before you’re married, but I’m also not naïve. I know how teenage hormones are. So if you ever get to that point, talk to me. OK?”
“Yes, Mom. I promise to talk to you if and when I decide to have sex. But I really do think that I can probably take care of that myself. The birth control, I mean.”
“Sometimes, Lib, things happen fast. So fast that you can’t remember how it began. Just be careful.”
Olivia is saved from further discussion when they arrive at the dance studio.
“Remember, Dad’s picking you up tonight. I need to go back for a meeting. Have a good practice.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I never had anything I loved doing as much as Olivia loves dancing. Grandma taught me how to sew and had hoped that I would love it as much as she did. But, it wasn’t for me. I could sew simple things, like window valances or pillow covers, but that was about it.
Most times I put puzzles together. Grandma brought them home from yard sales or the Goodwill store. If I was really lucky, which was almost never, all of the pieces would be there.
I remember the puzzle I was working on when I got that first prank call from Tracey. It was a fall landscape with lots of reds and yellows and oranges. I had completed the border and was working on the farmhouse. The phone rang and Grandma wasn’t home so I let it go into voicemail. I didn’t feel like talking.
After the phone rang a few times, the answering machine clicked on.
“Hello,” Grandma said. “You’ve reached the home of Grace and Sarah. We aren’t home at
the moment, but if you leave your name and number we’ll return your call.”
“Sarah,’ the voice said.
I stopped searching for the chimney piece and listened.
“I was just calling to see if you got the results back from your pregnancy test. I’m worried about you.”
Then the phone clicked.
It wasn’t Tracey’s voice, but I was sure she was behind it. If Grandma would have heard it, I would have had some explaining to do. Mostly why someone would hate me so much to leave a message like that. But it was just the beginning of the prank calls. They would continue over the next two years. Some I would catch before Grandma heard them and some I wouldn’t. It was always the ones that I didn’t get to before Grandma that seemed to be the worst.
“Hey, Lib,” Lexie says as she approaches the bus stop. “Think about homecoming last night?”
“Yeah. I’ll go.”
“Great. Already talked to Dad and he said he’ll get us a limo. Who else should we ask?”
“Don’t you have anyone you know from your classes?” Olivia says.
“Not really. The girls haven’t been real friendly here. Except you, of course.”
“They probably view you as competition.”
“Me, competition?”
“Absolutely. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You are a model, after all.”
“You promised not to tell anyone,” Lexie says. “I don’t want anyone to know that part of my life. It makes them see me differently.”
“Yeah. You’re even more of a threat,” Olivia says. “But your secret’s safe with me.”
“You know I only model because it’s something fun to do. It’s really no big deal.”
“I know it’s no big deal to you, but, to the girls at the top of the food chain, they would kill to have their picture plastered all over glossy magazines and catalogs.”
“I’m getting out of that anyway,” Lexie says.
“Why?”
“Getting tired of it. I want a break. I figure moving here gives me a chance to be a regular girl at a regular school where no one knows anything about any of that stuff.”
Olivia laughs. “I don’t think you’ll ever be regular, but you’re definitely the coolest girl I know. Mostly because you don’t know how cool you are or care. You’re just you.”
The girls talk about homecoming the entire bus ride to school. What, if any, girls to invite along in the limo? Where to shop for a dress? Should they tan, get manicures and pedicures? By the time the bus pulls up to the school, Olivia is actually excited about something other
than dance. I haven’t see her this happy in quite some time, and it fills me with warmth.
Olivia turns the corner to go to her locker and sees Emma waiting for her.
“Hi,” says Emma as Olivia pulls her backpack off her right shoulder.
“Hi.”
“I miss you.”
“Oh, really. You could have fooled me. You seem to be enjoying hanging with your new friends.”
“They’re not like you. I only pretend to like them so much to fit in.”
“You shouldn’t have to pretend,” Olivia says. “It takes more courage to be you, even if that means standing alone, than to be part of a crowd. And besides, a friend doesn’t treat a friend the way you’ve treated me, ditching me for them and canceling our plans.”
Just then a group of cheerleaders see Emma and run up to her.
“Emma,” says the tall girl with the hourglass body and endless legs. “I just asked the girls who they thought was the most popular girl in our grade. They said me.”
The girls giggle.
“What do you think?”
“Definitely,” Emma says.
Endless Legs laughs. “I just love you all.”
Emma looks at Olivia and mouths sorry and then turns to go with her friends.
Olivia is stunned. It’s true. The girl probably is the most popular girl in the entire ninth grade. But she knows it. She just asked the others so she could hear them say it and feel good about herself. A real piece of work, Olivia thinks.
Tracey was a real piece of work, too. When I confronted her about the prank phone call, she snickered.
“That’s so funny,” she said. “Leaving a message about getting pregnancy test results. I’ll have to remember that one.”
“I know it was you, Tracey. Well, not you, you. But someone you put up to it.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” Tracey said. “Shouldn’t accuse someone of something you can’t prove. Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“I just wondered if you and your grandma need some food. I see the cans for the food bank are piling up in the lobby. I’m sure school officials won’t mind if you take some cans from the food drive home so you and Grandma dearest can eat. Since you get food from there, it would save you a trip.”
I hung my head and walked away. I hated that Tracey always had the last word, and it usually cut the deepest.
The super stretch black Town Car limo pulls up to Lexie’s house where Tom and Elizabeth have joined Lexie’s parents to take pictures of the girls.
“Now, let’s get one of you and your mom and dad,” says Lexie’s mom, Lila.
I’ve never seen so many photos taken at one time. There’s Lexie and Lila. Lexie and her dad. Lexie and her mom and dad. Lexie alone. Lexie and Olivia. Olivia alone. Olivia with her mom and dad. Olivia with her mom. Olivia with her dad.
“We forgot about Daisy,” Olivia says.
Daisy’s lying under the nearby sycamore tree. Her ears perk up when she hears her name. She barks and runs to Olivia. Olivia picks her up and puts her face next to Daisy’s. Elizabeth snaps the photo.
“Anything else anyone wants to take a picture of?” Lila asks.
“Get us getting into the limo,” Lexie says.
More photos are taken.
“Now, remember. Get what you want to eat at the club,” Lexie’s dad says. “I’ve called ahead and they’re expecting you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Lexie hugs her parents and Olivia hugs hers.
The limo driver holds the door open and the girls climb in. Black leather seating wraps around forming a “J”. There’s a mirrored ceiling with neon lighting and a cherry-wood bar stocked with fresh ice and the diet soda and water the girls have requested.
The parents wave as the limo pulls away and Lexie and Olivia turn on the stereo and the flat screen and pour drinks using the beautiful crystal glasses in the console.
I can’t imagine the cost of such indulgence. I have nothing to compare it to, and yet I’m happy that Olivia is happy and that she has Lexie as a friend.
After Rachel moved, we lost touch. Not right away, but over time. Sort of how a beautiful beach changes and erodes. The beach vanishes altogether if no one does anything to stop it.
I remember Rachel telling me about the time she went to the beach on a family vacation and how stunned she was to see that it was half the size it had been the year before. She said she watched workers dredge sand from way out in the ocean and deposit it along the vanishing beach. I wish I would have dredged in our friendship. You just don’t always know the most significant pieces of your life until they’re gone and it’s too late to get them back. There were so many times I could have picked up the phone and didn’t.
“How’s Rachel?” Tracey asked me one day in the locker room.
“What do you care? You never liked her.”
“True. Although I thought she had more potential than you.”
The other girls laughed.
“You know, Tracey,” I said. “You’re really lucky to have a pretty face.”
Tracey looked at me as if she had just won Publishers Clearing House.
“Because you sure don’t have anything else going for you.” I clicked my padlock shut and spun the dial.
“Bitch. I’ll get you back for that, you fat slut.”
I’ll never forget how good that felt. I knew I pissed Tracey off and that things would probably get worse. But I tried to enjoy the moment, knowing that it, like the beautiful beach, wouldn’t last forever.
“Did you hear?” Lexie asks Olivia during the limo ride to the club for dinner.
“About what?”
“About Mr. Miller.”
“What about Miller?”