Authors: Deanna Proach
"In the courtyard. Maria is going there to have a smoke, so she told us to meet her there."
"Great, see you then," Anya says, now feeling much better. The thought of Patrick no longer upsets her. In fact, she plans to sit as far away from him as possible.
It is quarter past five in the evening when Anya returns home after a full two hours of clothes shopping with Maria, Carly and Kirsten. The afternoon has left her feeling exhilarated, but incredibly exhausted, though it's a content exhaustion, a feeling Anya has never felt before. Her new friends and clothes make her feel special. She realizes that she will have to pay the girls back the five hundred dollars they spent on her, but that shouldn't be a problem, especially since she knows that she will get Mr. Hawthorne's sponsorship. In the meantime, Anya could quit her weekend job and get a job with the Okanagan Players. They do have some openings coming up soon. The pay is better and the hours are quite flexible. All of the directors know her well, so getting hired on with them should be no problem.
"Anya," Sophia says, abruptly interrupting her thoughts.
"Yes, Sophia."
"Where did you get all those clothes? Did dad buy them for you?"
"No."
"Well, then who did?"
Anya casts her a sharp look. "None of your business."
"It's about time you got cool," Sophia says, giving her a snooty look.
Anya narrows her eyes.
You may be my sister, but I can't stand you
.
"Oh, by the way, you're stupid boyfriend called three times for you."
Anya crumples her brow. "What boyfriend?"
"Patrick. Seriously, Anya, who else would call for you?"
"Whatever, Sophia," Anya says, trudging past her kid sister. She barely manages to keep a strong grip around the wealth of shopping bags.
Once in her room, she lazily drops them onto her bed. She walks over to the night stand, then presses the play button on her 1998 model stereo. Shania Twain, singing 'Man, I Feel Like a Woman', blares from the small speakers. Anya hums along to the song while she pulls a patterned, spaghetti-strap dress from one of the bags. She throws off her hoodie and khakis, then slips into her new dress. The material is so light, it feels like she is naked, but for the first time in her life, Anya feels good about the way she looks.
Anya migrates over to the bathroom to examine herself in the mirror. As expected, it gives her a pleasant reflection. She gathers all of her hair in her hands, twists it, forming it into a large, elegant bun on top of her head. She smiles while she loosens her grip, allowing it to tumble down her back.
Imagination is great, but the real thing is even better
. She turns so that her back faces the bathtub, places her hands on her hips and continues to study herself in the mirror. The v-cut neckline plunges down her chest, exposing half of her breasts, and the bottom hemline sits two inches above her knees. Anya's gaze shifts from the mirror to her chest. She traces her fingers over the pale skin down to where the material begins.
I will have to work on a tan this spring. Now that the weather is finally starting to get
--'
A loud knock on the front door causes her to jump.
Could that be Maria, or Kirsten, or dad
? A louder knock sounds upon the door. That can't be Kirsten, she's away at some hair styling thing for the evening. And Maria is with Shondra. It couldn't be Carly, she lives in Southland Heights, and that's a good twenty minutes away from here.
And dad: he's probably sitting at a bar, half way to drunkenness by now.
"Anya, it's Patrick," Sophia yells from the living room.
Anya grunts. "Ugh, what is he doing here?"
Patrick's eyebrows snap up when he sees her. "Where did you get that dress?"
Anya can tell by the sharpness in his tone that he is not impressed. "I bought it," she says.
"Yeah, with whom?"
Anya purses her lips.
That is none of your dang business
. "No one. I bought it myself, with my own money. I have enough money in my bank account to afford one item of expensive clothing."
The suspicious look on his face tells Anya that he does not believe her lie.
"Well, I'll let you know, that dress does not make you look attractive."
Anya's face becomes inflamed. "How do you know, Patrick? You've never seen me in anything other than baggy clothing, so you have no right to judge me like that. And I don't care what you think. I love this dress and I feel good in it, so if you have a problem with it, then you will just have to deal with it!"
Patrick recoils. "What has come over you, Anya? I mean, why are you suddenly friends with Maria Hernandez and…Carly? Carly was so mean to you throughout Junior High, and Senior High wasn't hard enough for her to change her attitude."
"Until today."
"You wish."
"Patrick."
"Anya, get with it. She and Maria are only being nice to you because they want what you have. They want to bring you down so they can get what they want."
Anya's heart flutters.
It's not true. They wouldn't have spent the money on my clothes if they didn't care about me
. "That's so not true."
The look on his face darkens. "Yes it is, and you know it is. Why the heck would you even want to be friends with Carly after the way she treated you? And Maria: she's quite the slut. Popularity isn't as glamorous as you think it is. I wish you’d realize that."
Anya shoots him a furious look. "How would you know, Patrick? The only friend you've had since you came to this country was me."
"And I'm not good enough? Who let you sleep at his parents' house after all the times your brother beat you? Who took you out for dinner after Mr. Hawthorne told us that we were both accepted into his advanced acting class? Who spends all of his free time with you?"
"I had nothing to do with Maria's plot to get Carly to do what she did. She did it all on her own. And now that I think about it, I'm glad they decided to take a chance on me, because if they hadn't, I would still be miserable. And Maria is one of the nicest girls I've ever met; she's so bold and confident. I've always wanted to be that kind of person, and now I finally can. I want to be just like Maria."
Patrick's lips tremble and his eyes glaze over. "Anya, I came here to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. But now I don't feel any remorse. I can't believe you are willing to throw away a good friendship. I don't mean anything to you, do I."
Anya averts her eyes to the old, woolen slippers on her feet. Her feet are beginning to sting from the cold, but she is to confused and angry to care. She breathes out a heavy sigh, her breath lingering in the air.
"Well, that answers my question," Patrick says, his voice hoarse. "I'm going now. Until you figure out who your real friend is, don't call me and don't talk to me." He turns, then strides down the short, narrow walkway, disappearing around the corner.
Anya runs back to her room, desperate to talk to Maria, but only to discover that the phone is not in the room like she thought it was
. Darn! The phone's in Sophia's room. It's always in Sophia's room. This really sucks
. She curses while she rummages through her khakis pants in search for the number Maria had given her. After going through each pocket twice, she finds the piece of paper that contains Maria's contact information. She pulls it out of her pants, then places it on the edge of the nightstand.
Anya takes one deep breath before she exits her bedroom. She instantly spots the top of Sophia's head above the sofa. It appears that she is deeply engaged in an episode of
The Simpsons
. Anya tiptoes into Sophia's messy room, finds the phone sitting on the edge of the bed, grabs it, tiptoes back out, then re-enters her bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. She grabs the piece of paper, then dials the number.
"Hello?" a woman says upon picking up the phone after three rings.
Anya twists a lock of hair around her finger.
She must be Maria's mother
. "Hel-lo?"
"Who's this?" the woman says, her stern voice ringing in Anya's ear.
Anya's heartbeat quickens. "Uh…it's Maria's friend…Anya. Is Maria there?"
"No. Maria is not here, and I don't know when she will return." Her clipped voice is followed by the click of her phone being hung up.
"Bitch," Anya says under her breath. She rummages through the pouch in her hoodie in search for Shondra's phone number. Until now, she had forgotten that Maria gave her Shondra's number as a secondary contact number.
After five long rings, Maria picks up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Maria, it's me, Anya."
"Oh, are you okay?"
Anya can detect a slight undertone of concern in her voice. "Yes. No. Maria, I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?"
"Sure, when, where?"
"Martinez Park at seven?"
"Sure. Hey, do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yes." Anya recites her address over the phone, keeping her voice low so that Sophia cannot hear her over the television.
****
Anya watches Maria puff on her cigarette, appearing as if she is deep in thought. Anya has told her everything what Patrick had said to her, but the only response she receives is a few ah ha's, not what she has expected. They continue to walk along the wide boardwalk for a while, not saying anything until Maria finally breaks the unbearable silence.
"Anya, you care too much about what other people think of you; that's your whole problem."
Anya looks at Maria, shocked by her pointed statement. "How do you know?"
Maria inhales another puff of smoke, then exhales it slowly, the white smoke rising, expanding and drifting away from the two girls. "Because you wouldn't have told me all of this with that upset look on your face. You wouldn't have even phoned me in the first place." She stops walking, then turns to give Anya an unsympathetic look. "Friends come and friends go. Get used to it."
"But I was the one who ruined the friendship," Anya says, tears springing to her eyes.
The hard look on Maria's face softens. "No you didn't. Anya, today, you suddenly realized your true self and Patrick can't handle it, so it's not your fault that the friendship broke apart."
Anya breathes out a heavy sigh.
"Patrick held you back all these years, so screw him. You don't deserve someone like that," Maria says.
Anya breathes out another sigh. "I guess you're right. All these years, I never really felt truly happy or secure."
"Well, you don't have to feel that way anymore," Maria says, a smile appearing on her face. "You're one of us now." She flicks her cigarette butt onto the pavement, then crushes it with the heel of her black boot. "Jose's parents are in Los Angeles, so he's throwing a party Saturday night and he told me to bring you."
Oh my God. Jose, Matt's best friend invited me to his party? A week ago, he threw water in my face
. "Sure. I get off work at five, so I should have enough time to change," Anya says.
"I'll pick you up and we can get ready together. Where do you work?"
"Carbosa's Cafe."
For a moment Maria stares at her with a puzzled look on her heart-shaped face. "Carbosa's Cafe. That name rings a bell. I might have been there a few times, but I have no idea where it is."
"It's downtown on Adams Street, between Birchwood and Calder Avenue. It's actually not far from Peach Valley General Hospital."
"Oh, I know that area. My mother works at that hospital."
Anya smiles sheepishly at her. "I'm excited for the party; I've never been to one, but I have to honestly admit, the thought of being in Jose's home kinda scares me."
"Ahh, don't worry, Anya. Jose knows about your quick transformation and he's actually quite impressed."
Anya's eyebrows snap up. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Anya tingles all over with excitement.
This is going from good to better
. "Sweet. I can't wait."
The radiant smile on Maria's naturally tanned face is as noticeable underneath the night sky as it is in broad daylight. When Anya looks into her caramel brown eyes she can see the compassion and admiration. Anya knows that Maria will become her lifelong friend; every fiber in her body tells her so. She is eager to spend much time with her and she knows that Maria is thinking the same thing.