Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters (11 page)

16

When I wake up in the morning I have sheet marks all over my face, I look like I just escaped from Shawshank Prison, and I still don’t know what to do.

I drag myself to school and sort of float through the morning in a daze. After second period I see Cassidy in the hall. We stare at each other for a sec and then look away, which is so weird. I mean, normally we’d zip right over to each other and start chatting, but now it feels like I don’t even know her. And frankly, I don’t want to talk to her. She’s the one who betrayed
me,
after all!

She finally comes over to me with this fixed look on her face, her jaw tight like it’s wired shut or something. She goes, “Well, JoJo told me that you saw us on Saturday night. So … I guess it’s good that you know. I was trying to figure out how to tell you anyway.”

Did she just say “us” to me? Like they’re a recognized couple now, and I’m just supposed to go along with that? I can’t believe that was her opening line. Doesn’t she realize how hurt I am? Did she even think about it for a
second
?

“Oh, really?” I hiss through gritted teeth. “You were trying to ‘figure it out’? How hard were you working on that, exactly? Because I have to say, I’m not very impressed.”

“You know, you can’t really be mad at me about this, Kelsey. I mean, it’s not like you guys ever hooked up. You barely even ever talk. And—”

“Cassidy, you have known for
years
how I felt about him. And you knew that this was the year I really wanted to try and make it happen now that Jemma’s gone—we’ve talked about it a million times!” I’m fighting to keep my voice down, since people are already glancing with interest in our direction, but it’s not easy. “How could you do this to me? You’re supposed to be one of my best friends!”

“Kelsey, you can’t just, like,
claim
a guy—how is that fair?”

“Fair? Are you serious? I’m talking about our friendship, Cass. Though apparently that doesn’t really exist anymore.”

“Well, if you’re not even going to be reasonable, then maybe it doesn’t!”

I stand there gaping at her. She looks at me, still haughty with her chin in the air, but I think I can see it quivering a little bit. I don’t know what to say. The bell rings and she walks away, leaving me standing there looking at a row of lockers.

Wow.

At lunch, I head to the caf and take my usual seat at our table with JoJo, but Cassidy is conspicuously missing. I glance around and find her in seconds—sitting with Jordan at a table across the room.

“Really?” I turn to JoJo in disbelief. “Really? She’s sitting with him now?”

JoJo follows my gaze and raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t comment. I guess her whole “neutral” thing is still in effect. Dammit.

“Hey, guys!” Lexi sits down next to me, tossing her lunch on the table and her backpack on the floor. Yay—a non-neutral person I can vent to! Excellent.

“Lex,” I begin, “you seriously won’t believe what happened after second period today.”

“Oh, did you talk to—”

Em walks over with a tray and sits down across from me, since Lexi is in her usual seat. I’m so glad to see her, finally; I still haven’t gotten to even tell her about the concert yet, much less ask her advice or tell her about the Lori Soler thing—we’ve been in different classes all morning.

“Em! I have so much to talk to you about,” I say, leaning in. “For starters, don’t look now, but my former friend Cassidy has a new boyfriend—an official one, apparently, according to lunchroom seating politics.” I guess I’m past depression and into the anger phase. “So where were you last night?”

“I was—”

“And can you believe Cassidy? Wait till you hear what Lexi told me. I’m still totally in—”

“Oh, hello, little freshman girls.” It’s Julie Nelson, flanked by Ned and one of her other cronies, looming over the table. How does someone that hulking and horrible always manage to sneak up on me so successfully?

Julie stands next to our table for approximately forever, droning on and on about how great she is while nibbling on a protein bar. She’s obviously just here to torture me, so I wish she’d just get on with it already.

“You know,” she says, “our last game of the season is Thursday. I’m sure you’re all coming out to support the team, right? Oh, and Kelsey, you’re planning to shock everyone by doing something other than cower inside the net for once, right?” See? I knew it.

“Julie—” I start, but Lexi interrupts me.

“Julie, don’t you have anything better to do than bug Kelsey all the time? I mean, at least come up with some new material or something. Seriously.”

Ack! What is Lexi doing? Trying to get me killed?
I appreciate her support and everything … but I really wish she’d show it some other way, like by pushing me into oncoming traffic. I’m racking my brain for words—any words—that might diffuse the situation, when Lexi starts giggling. Then she pokes Julie conspiratorially in the arm, like she didn’t just insult her to her face.

I watch, stunned and relieved, as Julie’s face goes from fury to incredulity to a … smile? And now she’s laughing with Lexi. Even Ned is showing signs of life.

Is that some kind of trick they teach in LA, or what?

The bell rings. “See you at the game, ladies,” Julie calls, finally heading off with her minions.

“I, uh … well,” I stammer, “it was really cool of you to stick up for me like that, Lex. I just never know what to say that won’t piss her off, you know?”

“Oh, no problem. She really is such a bitch to you, and for no reason! What an idiot.” Lexi shrugs, standing up to leave.

Em starts to ask, “Kelsey, are you—”

“So, did you talk to Cassidy or what?” Lexi continues. Oh, right, Cassidy. For a brief moment there, I’d almost forgotten all about her.

I get up, too, turning to toss what’s left of my lunch in the trash, pausing for a second when a flash goes off right in my eye. Through the splotchy blobs in my field of vision, I can sort of see that somebody is taking pictures of the cafeteria staff. Maybe it’s a gag for the yearbook? Whatever. I catch up to Lexi and follow her into the hall, trying to relay the Cassidy encounter in full with only three minutes till my next class.

I get to Algebra 2 without a second to spare and slip into my seat. Lucky me: Both Cassidy and Keith are in this class. I’ve passed Keith in the hall today like a hundred times and he hasn’t said a word. Cassidy is texting inside her desk—probably to Jordan. Puke.

I suddenly realize that I
still
haven’t talked to Em—I just left her sitting at the lunch table! I text her to meet me at my locker during our shared free period, which is right before the end of the day.

A second later, a little envelope symbol pops up with an incoming text. It’s a message from Keith, six seats over, and it says:
Hey Kels. Cool time at show. Not 2 B a dick, but not up for comitment rite now. Hop we’re cool.

Well, isn’t that the cherry on my sundae.

I’m struck with an intense urge to stand up in the middle of class and say,
Oh, what a terrible shame that you aren’t up for “comitment.” Guess what? I’m not either. By the way, I got you this dictionary to use for future text-message breakups—hope you like it!

Yeesh. I can’t think of anything to write back that doesn’t make me sound like I’m upset, which I’m seriously not—not about this, anyway. So I just look over at Keith and shrug. Nice and noncommittal; he seems to like that, since he gives me a thumbs-up.

Seriously? I can’t believe I Frenched that guy.

I don’t get a response from Em during the next two classes, but we almost always meet at my locker during a free period anyway, so I head straight there when the bell rings. No Em. I sort through my stuff and chat to some kids in the hallway, but still no Em.

Where
is
she? I’m starting to feel weird, like maybe something is wrong. Could she be sick? I head down the hall to the girls’ room, thinking maybe she’s in there for some reason, but it’s empty.

I finally spot her coming out of the library. I’m so relieved to see her; I don’t think I’ve ever needed her advice on so many topics all at once.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you
everywhere
! I feel like it’s been a year with how much has happened since we last talked. What’s up with your phone? I have to tell you—”

I take a second to gulp some much-needed air.

“Yeah, Kels, I know. I got to hear all about it this morning. From Lexi Bradley, not you.”

“What? What do you—”

“Do you know how dumb I felt when she started whispering to me in math all about how you hooked up with Keith and I had no clue what she was talking about?”

“Em, I—”

“I can’t believe you told her about your first kiss and not me. I thought
I
was your best friend!”

“Em, you
are
! I tried to—”

“And then I find out about Cass and Jordan from JoJo at lunch while Lexi is busy playing your bodyguard with Julie Nelson. What’s going on?”

I’m so surprised, I can’t even formulate a thought. What is Em so upset about? I’m about to explain that I tried to call her last night when Lexi runs up. We turn around and she squeals, “Hey, guys! Oh, Em, I forgot to tell you, I love your hair like that!” She grabs my arm. “Kelsey, you’ll never guess what happened; two different guys asked me to the winter formal today—can you believe that?”

“Of course I can,” I say. “I’m sure ten more will have asked you by Friday.”

“Yeah, right, but thanks,” Lexi goes on. “Anyway, you have to help me decide who to go with on the way to soccer, and I only have a few weeks to get a dress …”

I turn back, but Em has been swallowed up by the crowd. Lexi keeps chattering away as we head to the locker room to change for practice. I guess I’ll have to call Em the second I get home and straighten this out. But she’s Em, so I know she’ll understand. She has to.

17

I get home after another horrendous practice (countdown: three days till the last game and the glorious end of the season) and head straight to the kitchen, looking for peace and quiet and maybe some nice, soothing candy. After tossing my backpack and puffy coat and kicking off my Pumas toward the stairs, I head for the fridge to grab some juice. As I reach to get a glass out of the cabinet, suddenly my foot is soaking wet. What the—? I look down and realize I’ve stepped directly in a bowl of water, which for some reason is on the floor. Next to it is another bowl that appears to be full of Cracklin’ Oat Bran cereal. Huh. Interesting.

I’m mopping up the water with paper towels (after peeling my sock off, ick) when I realize the bowls must be for Travis’s new pal, Nancy the Cat. As a reward for her great accomplishments in the fourth grade, i.e., spelling her name correctly (does anyone care that my life is in shambles and I could actually
use
some cheering up?), Travis was allowed to take in the cat that’s been loitering in our backyard for the last week or so. I’ve only been begging for a dog for about a thousand years, but apparently I’m not responsible enough to have one and my mother doesn’t want to “get stuck walking the damned thing at three in the morning because Kelsey didn’t feel like it.” Is that any way to talk about a poor defenseless dog? Or a poor defenseless daughter, for that matter?

My mother, the great animal lover, took Nancy the Cat to the vet and spent my entire college fund getting it shots and toys and food and a carrier and who knows what else. I’ll tell you this much: When Travis bails on this little project, I am not going to clean the litter box. No way.

I’m so glad that I can return home from school and literally step in yet another reminder of how perfect Travis’s life is while mine is a garbage heap swarming with flies.

I run up to my room, furious, damp, and upset. I put on my comfiest pj pants and a hoodie and grab my phone to call Em. She doesn’t pick up. What is going
on
? I try again, and leave a message this time, which I usually never even bother to do.

I curl up in my desk chair to spin around and think. I mean, forget Travis and her cat—that’s a mere annoyance, really. Ditto soccer, which is almost over at last. And forget Jordan, who is clearly an idiot that I’ve wasted
years
liking. Keith obviously gets filed under
W
for “Whatever.” But the stuff with Cassidy … and especially Em, who has never been upset with me before and is, frankly, totally unjustified in this case … I mean, I never put Lexi before her—not even once. And anyway, Em is the one who encouraged me to be friends with Lexi in the first place! I just don’t know what to do at all.

My mother yells up the stairs something insane about a sock in the sink and wanting me to set the table for dinner and empty the dishwasher. What gives? Can I have two
seconds
to be upset in this stupid house?!

After continued and increasingly angry directives, I sense being grounded may be imminent, which would really put a damper on winter break. I heave a great sigh and go back downstairs, where my mother is doing the crossword puzzle.

“You know, if emptying the dishwasher is soooo important, why didn’t
you
do it instead of sitting there doing a crossword puzzle?” I inquire—quite reasonably, I think.

Big mistake. This sets her off on a tirade. Will I never learn?

And then the weirdest thing happens. Maybe it’s her shrill, endlessly irritating voice or just the fact that my life is a mess, but I burst into tears. Even as it’s happening I’m surprised, though I guess after the last couple of months this is sort of becoming routine. Thanks, hormones.

Anyway, Mom is
really
surprised. And somehow I find myself telling her all about Cass and Jordan and Em (I do not mention Keith for fear she’ll overreact and drag me to a gynecologist or something) and she actually really listens. Puts down the newspaper and everything.

Once I get it all out, I actually feel a lot better. She doesn’t have any killer advice other than to follow my instincts, but just having her listen really helps. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, and Mom actually manages to restrain herself from making a comment about it.