The Sweetest Thing (14 page)

I clicked on my new-mail folder. I had a ton of stuff: some spam, but mostly real e-mail, for a change. I clicked on the one from Bennett first.

Subject: Lousy bf, worse writer

Dear Flan,

Sorry I had to leave right after the game tonight—that stupid article took me forever. Anyway, I wish I could've hung out with you longer, but hopefully you still had an okay time at the party with the ‘diths.

While I was writing, I was also listening to this new band, the Spectacles. I liked this song, and I thought you might too.

–B.

He ended the article with a link to their MySpace page. I clicked on it, feeling guiltier than the time I broke my mom's favorite blown-glass vase and blamed it on my old friend Olivia. Bennett was so
sweet, so smart, so sensitive. What on earth was wrong with me? I wished I'd never gone to that party.

The music was some sort of ambient rock with whooshing noises in the background—I preferred Leland Brinker's acoustic rock, but I made myself listen to it, and by the end I understood why he liked it so much. There was something kind of melancholy about the way the drums came in at the end. Closing the browser window, I thought about Bennett, his cute smile, his great sense of humor. I remembered holding hands with him at the football game and I started to feel more confused than ever.

I also had e-mails from Meredith and Judith. Bracing myself, I opened the one from Judith first.

Subject: i'm so in loooove

hey flan, so meredith was being annoying all the way back home but the thing is i just know that adam is meant 4 me!!!! you probably didn't even notice but he totally looked right up toward where we were sitting after he scored his touchdown and i think it meant that he loves me so i'm totally going after him. … i know i said i wouldn't but it's just like romeo and juliet and how would things have turned out 4 them if they hadn't started going out???
and meredith says i don't read. lol. anyway i hope you're on my side in all this b/c i know she's going to try to make you feel sorry for her when adam and i are homecoming king and queen!! lol. the thing is i really don't want to hurt anyone but it's not my fault we belong together. call me!!!! xoxo, j

ps kelvin just e-mailed me. how creepy is that???

I sighed and opened the e-mail from Meredith.

Subject: floating in a dream

Oh, Flan! When I came home, I felt so inspired! I wrote eight poems, made a collage, and started knitting Adam a sweater. (I hope he likes orange!) As you can probably tell, I'm in love! There's no use denying it anymore! Why live a life of self-sacrifice when “the birthday of my life is come, my love is come to me”? As soon as I finish the sweater, I'm going to tell him how I feel! Or maybe I should write him a letter?

Meredith

I got up, drew the blinds, and changed into my favorite cotton pajamas with the penguins on them.
Then I folded my Stuy tank top and took my new Betsey Johnson dress off my bed and hung it up in my closet. But before I shut the door, I stood there for a second looking at it. When I thought about how I'd been treating my friends—and Bennett—I felt like I never deserved to wear something so pretty ever again. I put on my fluffy slippers and consoled myself, thinking that at least it was all over for today. But when I sat back down to turn off the computer, there was a new message that had just come through, from an e-mail address I didn't recognize.

Subject: nice seeing you tonite

i hope you don't mind me e-mailing you, but i found your address on the bio homework site, so i thought i'd say hi. also, this picture cracked me up & i thought you might get a kick out of it. maybe this little guy was one of Bogie's pals back at the swamp!

adam

For a second, I started to feel terrible again—this problem with Adam just wasn't going to go away. Then I opened the picture and immediately started laughing. It was a purple salamander with a snail balanced on its head like a little hat. What made it so
adorable was the expression on the salamander's face—it almost looked like it was smiling. I hit reply and typed something about how cute it was, but as I went to hit send, I realized what I was doing and canceled the message.

A couple days ago Adam had been barely a blip on my radar screen—if anything he was just one more lumbering jock to swerve past in the hallway on the way to class. But now he'd become this bizarre character who'd leapt unwanted out of Meredith and Judith's overblown romantic daydreams and into my own thoughts. He was like one of those annoying, poppy songs that make you groan when they come on the radio, but then somehow get stuck in your head. You find yourself humming them at the most random possible moments, like when you're standing in line at a deli and all of a sudden you realize that it's your turn in line but you still don't know what you want because you've been humming Shakira's “Hips Don't Lie” the entire time. And now he had kissed me.

I took one last look at the salamander, shut down my computer, and flipped off the lights. No more flirting with Adam, I told myself firmly as I curled up under the covers. I rested my head on my squishy down pillow and thought about the awful day I'd just had. My science teacher was going to make me murder Bogie,
my friends were fighting over a guy, my sister had lost her mind, and I'd basically betrayed my boyfriend with someone I barely even knew. I knew things had gotten out of control when Sara-Beth Benny was the sanest person in my life. If things kept up like this, I'd have to move into my own bio-pod—no boys, friends, or siblings allowed.

The next morning when I woke up, I yawned, stretched, and put my slippers on before I remembered I was “grounded.” I figured I could do one of three things: sit in my room all day, have a big confrontation with Feb, or sneak out without her seeing me. There was no way I was going to do option number one, but another big fight didn't sound so great either. My throat was still sore from yelling at her—and at the game—the night before. So I put on my silver Tretorns and opted for choice number three.

A few years ago, in a rare moment of parental concern, my dad got a bunch of nylon ladders so, in case of emergency, we could climb out the second-story windows. I still had mine way in the back of my closet, under a bunch of old stuffed animals and feather boas I hadn't played with in years. I pulled it out, hooked the ends to the metal rail around my little balcony, and
climbed down into the yard. I was a little nervous, especially because I had to climb past the kitchen windows on the first floor, but no one was looking out and I managed to get down into the yard okay. From there it was just a question of hoisting myself over the little wall between SBB's backyard and mine, which took about two seconds. As I jumped down from the wall, I felt really pleased with myself—until my sneakers hit a patch of gooey mud.

“Ugh!” I tried to kick the dirty splatters off the cuffs of my jeans. Despite all the interior-decoration chaos, Sara-Beth hadn't bothered to have her yard landscaped yet. Leaving a set of muddy footprints in my wake, I went up the stairs to her back door and knocked.

I had to wait almost fifteen minutes before Sara-Beth finally stopped sneaking around and peeking out the windows long enough to actually unlock the door.

“Thank God it's really you,” she whispered, letting me inside. She immediately closed and locked the door behind me. “I was worried they sent a stalker in a Flan disguise!”

“Sorry I scared you,” I said, pulling off my dirty sneakers. “I would've gone to your front door, but I'm supposed to be grounded.”

I did a double take as Sara-Beth led me through the
kitchen and dining room toward the front of her house. The rugs, the furniture, even those famous silk curtains, had vanished. I checked my watch—hadn't I been in rococo France just a few hours ago? Noticing my reaction, Sara-Beth explained, “Oh, it was too old-fashioned. Now tell me what happened.”

“There's not too much to tell.” I sat down on the now-bare floor. “Feb's just acting like the overprotective mom I've never had—or wanted. It's really annoying.”

“I hate to sound like a broken record, but I'll say it again: divorce her. Now, my lawyer—”

“I seriously don't think I can divorce my sister.” I yawned. “Although the idea's sounding better all the time.”

“Just let me know if you change your mind.” Sara-Beth disappeared into the hallway for a minute and came back holding her cell phone. “Are you hungry? They took the refrigerator along with the rest of the furniture, but we can order in.”

“They took the refrigerator? Why?”

“Well, actually it was a vintage icebox from Portugal and it barely worked anyway. I couldn't even find the power cord! Such a waste of money—oh, don't even get me started on Yvette.” Sara-Beth dialed. “Hello? Is this Tavern on the Green? This is
Sara-Beth Benny. I was just wondering if you deliver. What?! Do you even know who I am?”

Half an hour later, we were eating brioche French toast and drinking fresh-squeezed orange juice out of paper containers on SBB's floor.

“Decorating this place has been such a nightmare,” she moaned, cutting her French toast into miniscule squares. “I just want to give up. These incompetent designers take advantage of me at every turn.”

“I think you just have to figure out what you really want, you know?” I said around a mouthful of maple syrup and blueberries. It was a little soggy. “It seems like everybody else has been forcing their taste on you. But it's your house.”

“Wow! That's exactly right, Flan. It's like when I was growing up. They told me how to dress, what to say, where to stand—it was like I was some kind of puppet.”

“Well, you were acting in a TV show,” I pointed out. “There was a script. And a director.”

“That's no excuse!” Sara-Beth frowned as she took a sip of her orange juice. Then she brightened up again. “Flan, I've got an idea.”

“What?”

“It's almost Halloween. I should decorate this place
like a haunted house! Just until I can think of how I really want it to look, you know. And then we can throw a costume party and it'll take your mind off your troubles and—oh, it's a perfect idea!”

I nodded slowly. I wasn't sure I deserved a party after the way I'd been acting, but Meredith and Judith did love Halloween. Maybe it would be a nice way to start healing our friendship. We could get all dressed up together beforehand, and then maybe sleep over at my house.

“So, who should we invite?” I asked, really warming to the idea.

“All the best people, of course! We can invite February, and your brother, of course, so they can't possibly object to you coming. And oh, Haley Joel, I owe him an invitation—we can even call Ashleigh-Ann Martin! It'll be a fresh new start for all of us!” Sara-Beth laughed merrily, then turned serious. “But everyone has to wear a costume. Absolutely no exceptions.” Her eyes widened. “Once I was the only one in costume at a party in Beverly Hills, and I've never gotten over the humiliation.”

“Why? What were you dressed up as?”

“Not important.” Sara-Beth shook the frown off face and clapped in excitement. “Flan, this is going to be the best party of all time. I can hardly wait!”

“Me neither,” I said. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I was still worried. The last party I'd been to had ended in disaster—what if something even worse happened this time? But I so wanted to go for it. After all, I love Halloween. …

I still didn't want to deal with Patch and Feb, so after I left SBB's house I called Meredith and Judith to invite them out for coffee. I hesitated for a second, feeling guilty, then called Bennett, too.

“Hey, what's up?” he asked. “I was worried you were mad at me or something.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Great—I'd been talking to Bennett for all of three seconds and I was already feeling even more terrible about myself than I had before. I started walking toward the Bean Garden. “
You're
perfect.”

“But I took off so early last night, and then you didn't write back to me. You know, about that band.”

“Oh yeah, the Spectacles. I'm sorry.” I stopped to look at my reflection in the window of a MAC store. I wondered how long it would be before he found out
what a terrible girlfriend I really was. “I was kind of … distracted last night. I got into a fight with Feb.”

“She's still a desperate housewife?”

I sighed. “Serial mom's more like it.” I started walking again. “Hey, do you have any plans for Halloween yet? Because Sara-Beth's throwing a haunted-house party.”

“Man, I wish I could be there, but I promised I'd take my cousin trick-or-treating.”

“Really? That's so sweet. But can't you just come by after?”

“Well, uh, I think my parents want me to babysit.” Bennett's voice sounded a little funny. I narrowed my eyes. Was he lying to me?

“How old's your cousin?”

“Ummm … eight?” It sounded like a question.

Hmm. “That's … nice.” I was in front of the Bean Garden by now. “Listen, I'm going to get some coffee with Judith and Meredith. Come meet us.”

“Nah, that's okay. I'm right in the middle of alphabetizing my comic book collection by illustrator, and if I leave them all over the living room floor my mom'll kill me.” I heard pages rustling in the background. “Hey, by the way, how was the party last night? You tell Adam I said congrats?”

Blood rushed into my face, and I coughed to hide
the awkward pause. “Yeah—no. I mean, I didn't really get a chance to talk to him.”

Meredith and Judith showed up about fifteen minutes later, looking like they'd bickered the whole way over on the subway. I had wanted to surprise them with news about the party, but SBB had already sent them Evites.