He swings his backpack off his shoulder and unzips it. There are a half dozen crumpled roses in the bottom of his bagIm assuming one of them is mineand besides that, an empty pack of cigarettes, a pack of Trident gum, his cell phone, and a change of shirts. Hes not so much into studying.
Who are the other roses from? I say, teasing him.
Your competition, he says, arching his eyebrows.
Very classy, Ally says. Are you going to Kents party tonight, Rob?
Probably. Rob shrugs and suddenly looks bored.
Heres a secret: one time when we were kissing, I opened my eyes and saw that his eyes were open. He wasnt even looking at me. He was looking over my shoulder, watching the room.
Hes getting a keg, Ally says for the second time.
Everyone jokes that going to Jefferson prepares you for the total college experience: you learn to work, and you learn to drink. Two years ago the New York Times ranked us among the top ten booziest public schools in Connecticut.
Its not like theres anything else to do around here, though. Weve got malls and basement parties. Thats it. Lets face it: thats how most of the country is. My dad always said that they should take down the Statue of Liberty and put up a big strip mall instead, or those golden McDonalds arches. He said at least that way people would know what to expect.
Ahem. Excuse me.
Lindsay is standing behind Rob, clearing her throat. She has her arms folded and shes tapping her foot.
Youre in my seat, Cokran, she says. Shes only pretending to be hard-core. Rob and Lindsay have always been friends. At least, theyve always been in the same group, and by necessity have always had to be friends.
My apologies, Edgecombe. He gets up and makes a big flourish, like a bow, when she sits down.
See you tonight, Rob, Ally says, and adds, bring your friends.
Ill see you later. Rob leans down and buries his face in my hair, making his voice deep and quiet. That voice used to make all of the nerves in my body light up like a firework explosion. Now, sometimes, I think its cheesy. Dont forget. Its all about you and me tonight.
I havent forgotten, I say, hoping my voice sounds sexy and not scared. My palms are sweating and I pray he doesnt try to take my hand.
Thankfully, he doesnt. Instead he bends down and presses his mouth into mine. We make out for a bit until Lindsay squeals, Not while Im eating, and throws a fry in my direction. It hits me on my shoulder.
Bye, ladies, Rob says, and saunters off with his hat just tilted on an angle.
I wipe my mouth on a napkin when nobodys looking, since the bottom half of my face is now coated with Robs saliva.
Heres another secret about Rob: I hate the way he kisses.
Elody says all my stressing is just insecurity because Rob and I havent actually sealed the deal yet. Once we do, shes positive Ill feel better, and Im sure shes right. After all, shes the expert.
Elody is the last to join us at lunch, and we all make a grab for her fries when she sets down her tray. She makes a halfhearted attempt to swat our hands away.
She slaps her bouquet of roses down next. She has twelve, and I feel a momentary twinge of jealousy.
I guess Ally feels it too because she says, What did you have to do for those?
Who did you have to do? Lindsay corrects her.
Elody sticks her tongue out but seems pleased that we noticed.
All of a sudden, Ally looks at something over my shoulder and starts giggling. Psycho killer, quest-ce que cest.
We all turn around. Juliet Sykes, or Psycho, has just drifted into the senior section. Thats how she walks: like shes drifting, being blown around by forces outside of her control. Shes carrying a brown paper bag in her long pale fingers. Her face is shielded behind a curtain of pale blond hair, shoulders hunched up around her ears.
For the most part, everyone in the cafeteria ignores hershes the definition of forgettablebut Lindsay, Ally, Elody, and I start making that screeching and stabbing motion from Alfred Hitchcocks Psycho, which we all watched at a sleepover a couple of years ago. (Afterward we had to sleep with the lights on.)
Im not sure if Juliet hears us. Lindsay always says she cant hear at all because the voices in her head are too loud. Juliet keeps up that same slow pace across the room, eventually reaching the door that leads out into the parking lot. Im not sure where she eats every day. I hardly ever see her in the cafeteria.
She has to shove her shoulder against the door a few times before it will open, like shes too frail to make it work.
Did she get our Valogram? Lindsay says, licking salt off a fry before popping it in her mouth.
Ally nods. In bio. I was sitting right behind her.
Did she say anything?
Does she ever say anything? Ally puts one hand across her heart, pretending to be upset. She threw the rose out as soon as class was over. Can you believe it? Right in front of me.
Freshman year Lindsay somehow found out that Juliet hadnt been sent a single Valogram. Not one. So Lindsay put a note on one of her roses and duct-taped it on Juliets locker. The note said: Maybe next year, but probably not.
Every year since then weve sent her a rose and the same note on Cupid Day. The only note shes ever received from anyone, as far as I know. Maybe next year, but probably not.
Normally I would feel bad, but Juliet deserves her nickname. Shes a freak. Rumor has it that she was once found by her parents on Route 84, stark naked at three A.M., straddling the highway divider. Last year Lacey Kennedy said she saw Juliet in the bathroom by the science wing, stroking her hair over and over and staring at her reflection. And Juliet never says a word. Hasnt for years, as far as I know.
Lindsay hates her. I think Lindsay and Juliet were in a couple of the same elementary school classes, and for all I know Lindsay has hated her since then. She makes the sign of the cross whenever Juliets around, like Juliet might somehow go vampire and make a lunge for Lindsays throat.
It was Lindsay who found out Juliet peed her sleeping bag during a Girl Scout camping trip in fifth grade, and Lindsay who gave her the nickname Mellow Yellow. People called Juliet that foreveruntil the end of freshman year, if you can believe itand stayed away from her because they said she smelled like pee.
Im looking out the window and I watch Juliets hair flash in the sunlight like its catching fire. Theres darkness on the horizon, a smudge where the storm is growing. It occurs to me for the first time that Im not exactly sure why Lindsay started hating Juliet in the first place, or when. I open my mouth to ask her, but theyve already moved on to other topics.
catfight, Elody finishes, and Ally giggles.
Im terrified, Lindsay says sarcastically. Clearly Ive missed something.
Whats going on? I say.
Elody turns to me. Sarah Grundel is going around saying Lindsay ruined her life. I have to wait while Elody folds a fry expertly into her mouth. She cant swim in the quarter finals. And you know she lives for that shit. Remember when she forgot to take her goggles off after morning practice and she wore them until second period?
She probably keeps all of her blue ribbons on a wall in her room, Ally says.
Sam used to do that. Didnt you, Sam? All those ribbons for playing with horsies. Lindsay elbows me.
Can we get back to the point? I wave my hands, partly because I want to hear the story, partly to take the attention off me and the fact that I used to be a dork. When I was in fifth grade, I spent more time with horses than with members of my own species. I still dont get why Sarahs pissed at Lindsay.
Elody rolls her eyes at me like I belong at the special ed table. Sarah got detentionshe was late to homeroom for, like, the fifth time in two weeks. Im still not getting it and she heaves a sigh. She was late to homeroom because she had to park in Upper Lot and haul ass
.22 miles!
We all bust it out at the same time and then start giggling like maniacs.
Dont worry, Lindz, I say. If you guys throw down Im totally putting money on you.
Yeah, weve got your back, Elody says.
Isnt it kind of weird how that stuff happens? Ally says in this shy voice she gets when shes trying to say something serious. How everything spirals out from everything else? Like, if Lindsay hadnt stolen that parking space
I didnt steal it. I got it fair and square, Lindsay protests, bringing her hand down on the table for emphasis. Elodys Diet Coke sloshes over the side of the can, soaking some fries. This makes us start laughing again.
Im serious! Ally raises her voice to be heard over us. Its like a web, you know? Everythings connected.
Have you been breaking into your dads stash again, Al? Elody says.
This is all it takes to really get us going. This is a joke weve had with Ally for years because her dad works in the music industry. Hes a lawyer, not a producer or manager or musician or anything, and he wears a suit everywhere (even to the pool in the summer), but Lindsay claims hes secretly a hippie stoner.
As were laughing, doubling over, Ally turns pink. You guys never listen to me, she says, but shes fighting a smile. She takes a fry and throws it at Elody. I read once that if a bunch of butterflies takes off from Thailand, it can cause a rainstorm in New York.
Yeah, well, one of your farts could cause a massive blackout in Portugal. Elody giggles, throwing a fry back.
Your morning breath could cause a stampede in Africa. Ally leans forward. And I do not fart.
Lindsay and I are laughing, and Elody and Ally keep throwing fries back and forth. Lindsay tries to say theyre wasting perfectly good grease, but shes snorting so hard she can barely get the words out.
Finally she sucks in a deep breath and chokes out, You know what I heard? That if you sneeze enough you can cause a tornado in Iowa.
Even Ally goes crazy at this, and suddenly were all trying it, laughing and sneezing and snorting at the same time. Everybodys staring at us, but we dont care.
After about a million sneezes, Lindsay leans back in her chair, clutching her stomach and gasping for breath.
Thirty dead in Iowa tornadoes, she gets out, another fifty missing.
This sets us off again.
Lindsay and I decide to cut seventh period and go to TCBY. Lindsay has French, which she cant stand, and I have English. We cut seventh period a lot together. Were second-semester seniors, so its like were expected not to go to class. Plus I hate my English teacher, Mrs. Harbor. Shes always going off on tangents. Sometimes Ill zone out for a few minutes, and all of a sudden shell be talking about underwear in the eighteenth century or oppression in Africa or the way the sun looks rising over the Grand Canyon. Even though shes probably only in her fifties, Im pretty sure shes losing it. Thats how it started with my grandmother: ideas swirling around and colliding with each other, causes coming after effects, and point A switched with point B. When my grandmother was still alive we would visit her, and even though I was no more than six, I remember thinking: I hope I die young.