Maybe One Day (23 page)

“Not exactly,” Mia started. “That’s more of a promotional thing. I’m also working on a film about how—”

“Hel-
lo
!” sang Stacy, coming into the living room. She was with Emma and Hailey. All three of them had their hair up in high ponytails, and they were all wearing tight low-rider jeans and tiny T-shirts in near-neon colors. They looked to me like slutty American Girl dolls. “How are we feeling today?”

Emma and Hailey were carrying their surgical masks, but they put them on before plopping down on the couch. Stacy left hers off as she stood by the archway between the living room and the foyer to make an announcement. “You guys, this is so
fun
! And I just want to tell you that Jake’s having this party has
totally
inspired me and Emma to have a Valentine’s party. The theme is: Great Couples in History!” She gave a little squeal of joy, then put on her mask and came into the room.

“Like Beyoncé and Jay-Z,” translated Hailey, in case any of us didn’t know what great couples in history meant.

“Brad and Angelina,” added Emma.

“Bogart and Bacall,” suggested Mia.

“Who?” asked Stacy, but she didn’t wait for Mia to answer. Instead, she continued with her plans for the party. “Costumes, of course. And dancing. But not like, you know, fuck-dancing à la some people at Mack Wilson’s party.” She gave me a little
wave as she quickly added, “I mean, no offense.” Then she and Hailey started laughing, and so did everyone else in the room, me included.

If you put a lobster in warm water and turn up the heat slowly, the lobster will have no idea it is being boiled to death until it is actually dead. That was what it was like for me while Stacy was talking. I listened to her talk about fuck dancing. I listened to her say “no offense.” I listened to her laugh. I laughed. And the whole time, I failed to see that I was being boiled to death.

“Wait, Zoe, is she talking about you?” Livvie’s voice was incredulous, and she was still laughing a little. “Were you seriously, you know, grinding?”

My heart was beating way too fast. “God, I don’t even . . . I mean, I hardly remember that night.”

Hailey laughed again. “That room was like the
orgy
room! I swear, people should have been wearing condoms.”

“It was
so
not that bad,” said Lashanna, stretching out over the back of the couch. “Please. I was there. People were just dancing.”

“
Some
people were just dancing,” said Stacy, and she started laughing again. “
Some
people”—she swirled her finger before pointing it at me—“were fuck-dancing.”

You could tell Stacy really thought this was completely hilarious. And that almost made it worse. Like, if she’d known what she was doing—if she’d
wanted
to blow some big
secret—I could have hated her. But she was just gossiping. She could have been talking about anyone and anything.

The only person I had to hate in this scenario was myself.

I was still smiling behind my mask. “Whatever,” I said in a way I hoped ended the conversation. “It was just a stupid party.”

“Oh my God!” said Livvie. “Who were you dancing with?”

Behind my surgical mask, my smile was frozen on my face. I literally could not speak.

“It was so dark,” said Mia. I had no idea if she sensed what was happening to me and was trying to help or if she was just describing the scene as she remembered it. “I don’t see how you could see who was dancing with anyone.”

“Wait,” Livvie interrupted. She leaned forward slightly to where I was sitting by her feet. “Who were you dancing with at the party?”

“Can I just say that I thought Margaret was going to rip your
eyes
out when you and Calvin walked off the dance floor together,” said Hailey. She made her hands into claws, hissed, then started cracking up.

“That girl is
crazy
!” Stacy said. “Did you hear about what happened with her and Sean?”

“What?” Emma demanded, sounding hurt. “I didn’t hear anything.

“Oh my God, are you serious?” asked Stacy. “Well . . .”

Hailey and Emma moved over to Stacy. Even Lashanna
and Mia turned in her direction to hear the story.

Olivia and I stayed where we were. Her jaw was making funny movements, as if she had something to say but hadn’t learned how to form words. “Did you . . .” She wrinkled her forehead and shook her head, then gave a tiny laugh. “Did you fool around with Calvin Taylor at that party?”

“Livvie . . . ,” I started.

“Did you?” she repeated, her voice harsher.

“Livvie, I can explain,” I whispered. She was staring at me, with a look in her eyes I had never seen before.

“Oh my God.” She said it so quietly it was almost like she was talking to herself. A second later she was on her feet, racing toward the stairs.

I leaped up. “Olivia!” I called.

I could sense all the girls on the couch staring at us, but I didn’t care. I just called her name, louder this time. “Olivia!”

She was halfway up the stairs. I barely managed to get across the foyer before I heard the door to her room slam.

I was sure she would have locked her door, but when I tried the knob, it turned, and then I was in her room. She was standing by the far wall, her back to me.

“Liv, I—”

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said, not even bothering to turn around.

“I know, but if you’ll just let me explain. It was a horrible
mistake.” I was panting from my sprint up the stairs. “I told you how drunk I was. It didn’t mean
anything
. I swear.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean anything to
you
, but it means something to
me
.” Her voice was shaking.

“I’m so, so sorry, Livs.” I took a tentative step toward her. “I know you like him and—”

She spun around. “You think this is because I
like
him?” Her eyes blazed with fury. “I don’t even—I had a
tiny
crush on him, okay? The point is that you
lied
to me.”

“Olivia, I—”

“And not just once. Not just when I asked you about what happened at the party. Constantly. You have this whole secret . . . thing with Calvin.” She shook her head, amazed anew by what she’d just discovered.

“Okay, I do not have a
thing
with Calvin!” I shouted. Then I lowered my voice. “We fooled around. Once. When I was drunk.”

“And you haven’t spoken to him since? Is that what you’re telling me?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Olivia.” I looked at her like,
Give me a break
, but when she didn’t speak, I said, “We go to the same school. We see each other. I am not claiming that I haven’t exchanged a single word with Calvin Taylor in the past two months.”

“You are such a
liar
, you know that?” Glaring at me, she made her voice high-pitched and enthusiastic. “‘Oh, Olivia, I love you so much. Oh, Olivia, I’d do anything for you. Oh,
except tell you the truth.’”

I started to cry. “You know that isn’t true. You know I’ve never lied to you.”

“You lied to me every day. Every time you looked at me it was a lie.” She was crying also.

“That is
so
not fair. What happened with Calvin was a mistake.”

“You felt
sorry
for me. You pitied me.”

“That is not true.” I emphasized each word as I spoke it. “That is
not
fucking true.”

She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I feel like such an idiot,” she said quietly.

“Olivia, please.” I took another step toward her. “You have to believe me. I’m so sorry. Please, Olivia.” I was crying hard now, panicky tears that made it hard for me to think straight.

Olivia’s face was hard. “Get out of here.”

“Please. Livvie.” I held out my hand to her.

“I swear, Zoe, if you don’t get out of my house this second I am going to call my father and he’ll come upstairs and
make
you get out.”

The thought of Mr. Greco throwing me out of his house on Olivia’s orders was more than I could take. I started sobbing so hard I could barely breathe, but my tears had no effect on Olivia. She just kept watching me with the same cold stare. Finally she said through gritted teeth, “Get. Out. Of. My. House.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

25

After I left I called Olivia’s cell all afternoon, but she never picked up. Out of desperation I finally called the landline, but Mrs. Greco told me Olivia was sleeping. I couldn’t tell from her voice if she was lying or not.

For two days, I kept trying to reach her and she kept not responding. I considered going over to her house, but imagining her mom blocking my entrance and saying Olivia wasn’t
up for visitors
stopped me cold. On the third day, I forced myself to stop trying to contact her. What if my constant texting and emailing and calling was just making her madder?

Some song my dad likes has a line that goes, “The waiting is the hardest part.” The guy who wrote that definitely knew what he was talking about because I would have seriously rather done just about anything than sit on my ass waiting
for my phone to ring. But that’s what I did for almost a week: I waited. I even started leaving my cell at home because it made me so crazy to sit in class staring at it all the time. I kept seeing Jake around school, and I thought about asking him how Olivia was doing, but I was embarrassed. If he didn’t know Olivia and I were in a fight, my asking him how she was would definitely tell him. And once he knew we were fighting, he’d want to know why.

It was bad enough that Olivia knew what a lying sack of shit I was. Did the rest of the Grecos have to know also?

“Hey,” said Mia, coming up to my locker Thursday after school. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing,” I answered. “Less than nothing.” Because that was what waiting was starting to feel like—less than nothing.

“Perfect.” She bent down and picked up my bag from the floor. “Come get a latte with me before I have to start editing?”

“Oh . . . no,” I said. I turned and gave her an apologetic smile. “I mean, sorry. Thanks. But I can’t.”

“Yeah,” said Mia, leaning against the locker next to mine. “I can see how doing nothing is better than getting a latte with your awesome friend Mia.”

I looked at her. Mia seriously wanted to spend time with me. Why? Why would
anyone
want to spend time with me?

“Are you okay?” she asked, seeing the expression on my face.

“Yeah,” I said, and immediately burst into tears.

The bleachers were empty, and sitting on the highest one we could see the entire campus spread out beneath us. It was amazing how getting just a few feet up made everything on the ground look so tiny.

“Wow,” said Mia when I finished telling her what had happened. “That really sucks.”

“Yeah.” I leaned forward and wiped my nose on my jeans.

She dug into her bag and handed me a napkin. “Here. I think it’s more or less clean.”

“Thanks.”

Mia surveyed the trees on the edge of the lawn. “Maybe . . . is it possible you just really like Calvin and that’s why you fooled around with him? That doesn’t have to have anything to do with you and Olivia, does it? I mean, obviously the timing sucks, but falling for a guy when your friend is sick doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“You left out the part about my falling for a guy my sick friend likes,” I said, stuffing the dirty napkin in my pocket.

“Oh, come on, Zoe.” Mia pursed her lips in disbelief. “She said herself she doesn’t give a shit about him. She’s mad because you lied to her. But she’ll get over that.”

“How can you be so sure?” I snapped. “Why can’t she just be mad at me forever?”

“Zoe, you’re a great friend, okay?” Mia said patiently. “I’ve seen what a good friend you are. And you’re basically an honest person who just made a bad call.”

“You don’t know that.” I shook my head frantically from side to side. “You don’t know that I’m basically an honest person.”

“Fine, you’re a lying sack of shit. Feel better now?” She leaned back on her elbows.

I looked down at the empty football field below us. The white lines were faded, but in some places you could still make out ghostly numbers in the grass. “I lied to you.”

“Oh yeah? What, you secretly bombed your PSATs?”

“No,” I said sulkily. “But I told you I decided not to dance anymore. That’s not what happened. I was cut. I wasn’t good enough, and they asked me to leave the school.” I turned to glare at her. “So there you go. Make your case for what an honest person I am now.”

“I don’t get it,” said Mia, meeting my gaze. “You thought I’d like you better if you were a quitter than if you weren’t good enough?”

I looked back at the field. “Something like that.”

Mia laughed. “Jesus, give people a little credit, will you?” She stood up. “Look, I’m leaving because I’ve got to get to the editing room, not because I’m so horrified by what you’ve just told me that I can’t stand to sit here with you anymore. I think it’s too bad that you thought I’d judge you for getting kicked out of dancing school, but I can see why it would be embarrassing for you to tell someone you barely knew at the time what happened. I can only hope—and this conversation
gives
me hope—that if the same thing happened today, you would feel you could be honest with me.

“Now”—Mia leaned over and picked up her enormous black leather bag—“this fight with Olivia is awful. But I feel confident that you’re going to work it out. Because while I have not known you nearly as long as Olivia has, and while you and I are not one one-thousandth of the friends you and Olivia are, I can promise you that I would forgive you something like this because you are a really awesome person and a really awesome friend.”

I could feel my eyes getting damp again. “Thanks,” I said. I smiled up at her. “You are a really awesome friend too.”