The Other Fish in the Sea (25 page)

Read The Other Fish in the Sea Online

Authors: Jenn Cooksey

Tags: #Romance, #Young Adult, #Contemporary

“I at least want details on how that happened though, okay?” Kate asked and gave me a big “pleeease?” smile.

“So, um, are we all cool then? You guys are okay with having a bad person as a friend?”

“Melissa, you’re not a bad person. You didn’t do it to be vindictive or mean. You told me over a week ago you were thinking of breaking up with Keith, for a good reason too, and you just fell for another guy before you did it. I know you, if Keith had been around you would’ve broken up with him before you got involved with Brandon, so really all you did was do things a little out of order.”

“Huh… Okay well, speaking of that…I gotta make a call.”

I called Keith right then and there with my friends standing around me to lend their support. It was hard and I cried, and maybe the phone isn’t the best way to break-up with someone but surprisingly, Keith said he knew it was coming. I told him an annotated version of the truth by admitting to meeting someone else, but not that I had sex with the guy…that’s really none of his business. He was kind of pissed at first, but then took some of the blame in the way of saying that pressuring me about sex was what basically threw me into another guy’s arms so to speak, and he’s totally right on that point. I still shouldn’t have cheated on him, though. Happily, our breakup, for as bad as it could’ve been, was amicable and he doesn’t hate me or, like my amazingly great friends, think I’m a bad person either.

Now there’s only one thing left for me to do…let my bad-boy-hottie know he can sleep.

Me:
hey hotness.

Brandon:
whats up sexy?

Me:
change my ringtone.

Brandon:
u my girl?

Me:
ya im your girl.

Brandon:
hm address plz.

I gave him my address, although I’m not sure why he’s asking for it. He’s not really a send his girlfriend flowers kinda guy, you know?

Brandon:
c u 2nite rose.
(Oh. Rose was the heroine in
Titanic
.)

Me:
giggle.

12.

Advanced Planning & A Secret Santa

You would think after having essentially spent all of the last ninety-six hours and most of today at school together that my friends and I would maybe like a little alone time but, nope, that’s not how we work. My mom was so completely worn out after our desert trip that Jeff offered to come over Monday after school and bar-b-q for us. Well, it wasn’t so much an offer as it was him insisting but whatever. It was a nice thing to do and was very much appreciated by my parents.

Jeff, Tristan, and I spent over two hours grocery shopping after school for the dinner fixin’s and to restock my mom’s kitchen. After the last week, I swear, it was like what Old Mother Hubbard’s kitchen must have looked like; we had NO food. We’d just gotten back to my house and as we loaded up our arms with grocery bags, we started talking and laughing about how Brandon had shown up at lunch today to kidnap Melissa. And it
was
a kidnapping. She totally had no idea he was coming. He found her at the stage, said, “Hi Sexy,” and then he picked her up, walked away with her, and because we all couldn’t stand it, we followed them and saw him plunk her down on the back of his motorcycle, stick a helmet on her head and then he took off with her. Yeah, Keith saw the whole thing too and his face upon seeing the guy Melissa ditched him for was uh…well, let’s just say he wasn’t happy. I think he considered picking a fight with Brandon, but he appeared a little intimidated by Brandon’s extremely cavalier attitude. I can’t really blame him, though. I’m sure Brandon wouldn’t have given Keith the opportunity to even get a punch in. I mean I don’t know that for a fact, it’s just a gut feeling. I just think Brandon’s not the kind of guy you really want to intentionally pick a fight with, you know?

 
Anyway, the three of us were walking up the driveway of my house when we noticed Pete and my sister, or rather, their weighty expressions.

“We got the groceries, you guys, they’re in Mom and Dad’s room,” Jillian said somberly, getting up from the porch swing and indicating Kate’s car on the street.

With Jeff in the lead, the three of us walked in and were headed towards the far end of the hallway upstairs when we heard the faint sound of my mom’s “Comfort Voice.” That’s what I call it when she’s trying to reassure and console. Tristan and I shared a look and slowly approached my parents’ room to see Kate curled up on the bed with her head in my mom’s lap. She was crying.

Jeff fairly flew to her and pulled her into his arms.
“Katy?!
Oh God, please tell me i—”

“My parents are getting a divorce.” Her voice was flat, like she just didn’t have it in her to give the words any emphasis whatsoever. The only way you could tell she cared one way or the other was from the silent cascade of tears flowing down her cheeks.

Jeff let go of the breath he was holding almost like he was relieved, but his voice held sincere empathy when he spoke. “Oh shit, Katy, I’m
so
sorry…do you wanna tell me what happened?”

She wiped at her eyes with a tissue and took a deep breath before launching into the tale of what she learned when she came home from school this afternoon.

“I thought it was so weird, you know, when I got home last night and no one was home and then this morning when my dad wasn’t at the table reading the paper and having his pre-commute coffee like he always does and my mom seemed so…guarded. I mean, she barely said three words to me before she left for the office early. Anyway, so I walk in the house after school and see a couple of suitcases and a bunch of moving boxes everywhere, and then I found my dad in his study cheerfully packing up all his books and stuff. He was actually fucking whistling to himself like one the goddamned seven dwarfs!”

It was then that I glanced at my mom’s face. She was completely unfazed by Kate’s swearing. In fact, when Kate paused and turned to her, she automatically handed Kate another tissue, like she was one of
us
. In that moment, you would’ve never known my mom was a mom. She was a
friend
. Like she’d temporarily stepped in for me when Kate needed someone to cry and vent to. I mean I know she defended Brandon and everything, but seriously, how utterly magnificent is my mom?

“When I asked him what the hell was going on, he just said, ‘Katelyn, your mother and I are getting divorced,’ and that was it. I mean he just went back to his whistling and packing and left me standing there with my fucking mouth hanging open.”

“Babe, where was your mom?”

“I’m getting to that… So I went in search of her, right? And found her in their room, stone faced, shoving the contents of his nightstand and the
remainder
of his clothes and crap in some boxe—”

“Remainder?”

 
“Yeah, well, come to find out, he’d already taken most of his clothes over the weekend to the condo he’s had for
nineteen fucking years!

“WHAT?!”
Jeff, Tristan and I all shouted our incredulousness together.

“Uh-huh…unbeknownst to her and his kid, he’s been cheating on my mom almost their
entire
fucking marriage! I’m so fucking pissed at him, I can barely
see
straight!”

And our reactions to this news were;

Jeff: “That fucking son of a
bitch!

 

Tristan:
“Holy shit!”

Me: crickets…
 
Honestly, I had nothin’.

Kate just looked at us like she was asking, “I know! Can you
believe
this shit?” Then, after taking another cleansing breath and wiping her eyes again, she turned her face to Jeff and said softly, “Babe, I’m fuckin’ starving, feed me.”

He smoothed her hair from her face before first kissing her forehead and then her lips. “You got it,” he said in a voice so full of loving intimacy that they could’ve been the only two people in the world, let alone the room.

Tristan followed Jeff out and it wasn’t that I got the feeling that Kate wanted to be alone or anything, but she sort of groaned when she heard Melissa arrive. So, thinking she probably didn’t want to go through her story yet another time, I went downstairs to play hostess and left Kate in my mom’s bed and her more than capable hands. About a half an hour later, Kate was compelled to join us in the backyard by the mouthwatering smell of steak being grilled and mushrooms being sautéed in butter and garlic.

No one said a word about her puffy eyes and the reason for them; instead, we made some “Gay Pete” jokes while laughing at Jillian’s Thanksgiving video compilation and played a game of cards to see who would do the dishes.
 

Dinner was delicious and I did the dishes.

The next day Tristan’s parents were going to be home from Italy so wanting to see them and fill them in on the upheaval in their friends’ lives; he only dropped me off after school. Thankfully, I didn’t need his help with my math homework. Now this will sound weird, but I’m sure you’ll understand in a minute why I was doubly thankful that he didn’t stick around when my mom called me into her room for a chat.
 

I passed Jill in the hallway as she was headed for her room having just come from our parents’. She didn’t say anything, and although the look on her face wasn’t exactly grim, it was enough to sort of give me a foreboding feeling.

“Hi honey, come sit down with me…I want to talk about some things with you,” My mom said pleasantly, yet determined.
 

If I said my heart wasn’t a lump in my throat as I crawled onto her bed to sit next to her, I would be surprised if God didn’t hurl a lightning bolt at me for lying.

She took my hand and then with a warm smile, she gave it a squeeze and said, “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this so I’m just going to come out with it… (Seriously, I think I’m having a full-blown panic attack.) Starting in January, Jillian will be going to school with you.”

I blinked in confusion. That was
so
not what I was expecting.

Since I was just sitting there staring at her with what I’m sure was a look that a dog might give you when you’re speaking English to it and it’s hearing “Blah, blah, blah…,” my mom went on. “Her school contacted me yesterday and informed me that they really don’t have the means to keep up with her, so she’ll begin as a freshman when second semester starts. Your father and I were hoping to give you at least one year on your own, but it just can’t be helped. I hope you understand.”

“I, uh—I…yeah…I
totally
understand! Actually, I’m way cool with that.” I have
no
problem with not having a year without my sister, but now I’m wondering why Jill didn’t look thrilled. I mean maybe she doesn’t want to leave her friends or something, which I would totally get if it were me, but I would
think
she’d be doing cartwheels at the idea of not being as bored everyday in class, which she’s told me on more than one occasion is the case.

“Oh good, I’m so relieved. Well, one down… (Oh crap, there’s more.) I know I’ve talked about this subject in an abstract or sort of generic way with you and Jill previously, but I think it’s time you and I talk more specifically as it applies to you and what I’m certain you’re contemplating.”

I squirmed a little.
 

It’s not that I’m embarrassed to talk about sex with my mom, but Jesus, how transparent
am
I?!
 

“I’m assuming you have
not
had sex yet, is that correct?”

“No. I mean yes. Crap. I mean correct. Sorry, Mom, I guess I’m still back on the Jill’s gonna be a twelve-year-old freshman page.”

She laughed sympathetically at my iffy answer. “I understand, honey…so would I also be correct in assuming you
are
thinking about it?”

“Correct!” I said like
ta-da!
I got one right! And then I realized how it came out and felt my face begin to warm slightly.

Chuckling, she said, “I thought so. Your father and I would, of course, prefer for you girls to wait until you’re married, and in an ideal world, you would.
But
, I know we don’t live in an ideal world. (No, no we do not.) Also, I know that if you two were to make the decision to have sex, you would no doubt take all the safety precautions (I already know Tristan certainly would.) however, I do
not
know where you are in your thought process. (Me either. It varies depending on whether I’m sober or not…)

“And although I like Tristan very much and trust him implicitly with your wellbeing, as a woman, you should in no way ever assume that the man you’re going to be with will have safety or birth control covered (Yeah, that makes sense.) and condoms used alone range anywhere from eighty-five to ninety-eight percent in effectiveness. (Ahh,
oh
. I wonder if he knows that.) So, what I’d like you to seriously think about and consider is going on birth control pills, which typically take about one month to become effective. That combined with properly used condoms, which you should have in addition to the pill to cover you for STDs and ups the effectiveness of preventing pregnancy as well, and you should be good. (Huh. I didn’t know the time frame thing about the pill.)(Jeez, my mental responses to what my mom is saying are making this whole conversation sound like a freaking after school special.)

“I wanted to be safe rather than sorry, so I bumped up your annual exam to next Wednesday…you have a week to think about it. Now, do you have any questions for me about sex or what to expect the first time, or are you ready to flee and join a convent?”

I laughed. Really, my mom has a humorous, yet no nonsense approach that you just have to appreciate and chuckle at.

“Um, well, I don’t have any questions at the moment, and also, I really don’t think being a nun is for me, especially since we’re not catholic, but I will take you up on the doctor appointment,” I told her while thinking to myself that yeah, I totally don’t need a week to think about it. I don’t see myself waiting until I’m married which means I’ll do it eventually and chances are, that eventuality will be sooner rather than later, so I might as well plan in advance, right? I mean, like my mom said, better safe than sorry.

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