Socially Awkward (9 page)

CHAPTER NINE

I didn’t want to talk about Sean anymore, now that
all of
the
se
emotions were springing back to the surface, but I couldn’t move the story forward for Mom without revisiting those back-and-forth messages.

Just by clicking that simple
Like
button on one of his photos, I had indeed reignited his interest. I may not have had a clue about what I was doing, but my powers of sociological observation had been treating me well, even out of my depth here on the internet. Within another day or two, he’d
Liked
a few of Olivia’s status updates and posted a “Hey, how’s it going?” note on my wall. I could tell he was trying to keep me at arm’s length, just in case I was toying with him.

Me
toying with
him
? The idea was absurd, of course. But then again, looking at Olivia’s
smoking
’ hot profile picture, she just might be the type. I could see Sean wanting to take it easy
and not seem too eager. I wasn’t the hunter here, I was the prey. But in a completely different way than I usually thought of myself as being prey.

Weird.

Anyway, I welcomed his subtle and slow advances, posting replies when he commented, and taking a few moments here and there to visit his profile. In reality, I was all but virtually stalking him, but I didn’t leave much evidence of this on his Wall. Instead, I just monitored where he was, what he was up to, who was popping up in his photos, and things like that. Totally normal internet behavior, from what I’ve learned by watching others interact on Facebook.

Then one day, an amazing thing happened. I was just sitting there, cruising through my usual clicking routine on my profile, then Olivia’s, when a new message from Sean appeared in my inbox. My fingers twitched with excitement as I moved the mouse to click it open.

Dear Olivia,

I’m really glad we’ve had a chance to get back in touch. I remember how much I enjoyed your company back in school, something I didn’t know how much I’d missed until now. I hope we can stay friends and maybe even meet up in person sometime.

I’m hosting a party
in a couple of weeks
, if you’d like to come. There will be lots of people there from school, too, so it might be a nice sort of reunion for you. And we could maybe talk somewhere together, if you like.

Let me know and I’ll send you the info.

Sean

I had to fight to stay seated on my chair as I read his note a second and third time. This could be it, my chance to meet him in person and wow him once and for all. Sean O’Dwyer,
the
Sean O’Dwyer who I’d first fallen in love with at the ripe old age of 12. My dream guy, inviting me to a party. To
talk somewhere together
maybe, if I played my cards right.

Immediately, I bolted up from my seat and into the bathroom, where I took a long, hard look at myself in the mirror. Jennifer Smith, staring back at me, did not look as much like Olivia Saunders as I’d been hoping. But there was potential here, I figured, pinning my hair back on top of my head into a bun and sucking in my cheeks. I studied myself from the right and left angles, turned sideways to see the full impact of the 18 pounds I still had left to lose. I was getting closer, but I wasn’t there yet. I watched my face fall as the realization sunk in.

There was no way Sean would buy it if I said I was Olivia Saunders, exotic world traveler and successful model/actress. Not like this. Not without seriously kicking some butt in the gym…

I looked down at the rest of my body. And maybe a mani/pedi treatment might be in order too.

On impulse, I ran back to my laptop and typed a quick response to Sean: “Sounds great! I’m in town that weekend, so send me the details and I’ll see you there!”

Before I could change my mind, I clicked send and watched it post, becoming a permanent record of the internet. I couldn’t take it back now. There was nothing left to do but get to work.
I had
about fifteen
days to get as close as possible to some insane, imaginary personal standard. But I am Jennifer Smith and I have done amazing things before. The only person in my way was me.

****

So
my new
mantra became “look like Olivia.” I didn’t even allow myself to think about what would happen if I couldn’t accomplish my goal. Instead, I burned every calorie and ran every mile with this one thought in mind. And with Tom still
away
on his
‘family business,’ whatever that meant
,
I had Noah to help me get there
.

By mid-week,
I
assumed
Claire
still
hadn’t heard from
Tom
,
judging by
the ugly scowl on her face
most days
, but
she
wouldn’t admit that she was worried.
I didn’t push the issue with her. I found her one afternoon
standing in the lounge area of Tom’s Workout World with her arms
crossed tightly over her hot pink running tank top, almost like she was fighting off a chill.

I didn’t want to admit it to her, but I wasn’t the least bit disappointed to see Noah, instead of Tom, greeting us
once again
at the front desk that day. Claire
wa
s convinced the screaming ma
de
us work harder and, thus, we burn
ed
more calories. I, however, was
not totally convinced th
at the extra 10 or so calories we
re really worth all the mental anguish
..
.
even if her theory was true.
I’m sorry, but I’ll always choose a happy workout over one that makes me want to cry myself to sleep at night. 

In any case, that day, it wouldn’t have mattered what we thought. Noah was training us, and that was that.

“Come on, grumps,” I nudged her with my elbow as we followed Noah to the mats. “Is it really so bad?”

“I guess not,” she sighed, unwinding her arms. “I’m just… concerned.”

“You haven’t heard from him?”

Wordlessly, Claire shook her head.

“Claire…” I let her name linger on the air until she turned to me. If Noah could hear us talking, he didn’t let on—which I thought was rathe
r polite of him. “Are you guys—”

“I don’t know what we are,” she said, her voice strained. She heaved a deep sigh and
took a moment to
gain control of her vocal chords. “It’s the same story every time, Jen.
Why do I always attract these kinds of guys?
”

I gave her a sympathetic look and squeezed her hand. There wasn’t time to get into things right now, since we had arrived at the mats. Noah couldn’t as easily pretend not to hear, and it would have been really awkward to just keep talking with him staring at us.  I knew
t
hat he knew about Claire and Tom, but she didn’t. Now was not the time to get into it.

Noah started us out with strength training first and I was surprised how well my body was starting to adapt to our workouts.
It was still tough, no doubt about it, but my muscles were
responding better
. I was getting stronger and I could actually tell it was happening. Maybe Claire or Noah wouldn’t see it yet, but I could feel it. I wanted to keep going, to see how far I could go.

Sweating, aching, and exhausted, when it was time for our break, I started to notice a new annoyance. All this activity was making my ears sweaty and, thus, my hearing aids
were slipping around
. There’s nothing worse than perspiring underneath your hearing aids.
From what I’ve been told, it’s a lot like
w
earing
ear bud
headphones on a
super-hot
day or during a long work out
—just gross and slimy
.
Claire looked over just as I started to fidget with the right one.

“I thought that might happen eventually,” she said, offering me a clean towel. “Why not take them out? You can hear well enough to know what’s going on, right? I think you’ll be okay.”

I stared at her for a moment, struck by the idea. Part of me was horrified. Being in public without my hearing aids, while I looked more ‘normal’ that way, made me extremely vulnerable. I hated them, but not having them was even worse for me. I found myself staring at people’s mouths to lip read—well, more than usual—and I had to ask for repetitions a lot. I really, really hated it.
But the rest of me knew I would be so much
more
comfortable without them sliding around in my ears.

Besides, if I was going to look like Olivia in a few days, I needed to
work my butt off with nothing stopping me. As this thought passed across my face, Claire
took the decision into her own hands
.

“Come on, Noah won’t mind,”
she
said, standing up. “I’ll let him know so he can make sure you make eye contact before he says something.”

Springing up, I grabbed her arm. “No, Claire! Don’t tell him.”

She laughed, sliding her arm from my grip. “He’s a professional, Jen. It’ll be fine.”

Too
shocked to do anything, I watched in frozen horror as Claire walked over to Noah, leaned in to
ward him
, and said something. Of course I couldn’t hear it, I never can, but they both looked at me simultaneously. Then Noah nodded to her, smiled at me, and Claire walked away.

“I hate you,” I told my beloved sister when she returned.

“You’ll be thanking me later.” She downed
a gulp of
w
ater then pulled me up to stand
beside her. “Come on, leave the extra pair of ears with your bag and let’s hit the treadmill.”

I sighed, mulling it over in my head. Worth it? Not worth it? Noah had already been directly informed of my impairment, thanks to Claire, so there wasn’t much use in hiding it anymore. And if it was going to make the rest of my workout easier… Fine. The hell with it. 

Claire and Noah left me alone to sort out my ‘accessories,’ neither one saying a word, and then I jumped on the treadmill next to my sister. It was a weird sensation to be in a familiar space for the first time without my “extra ears,” like being underwater or covering my ears with my hands. Still, I’d never known anything
besides a
life
of coping
with or without
my
hearing aids, so I adjusted quickly.

We did
intervals of
walking and running for six miles, side by side, and I don’t know how in the hell I did that. Granted, Claire could definitely still run faster, but with my eyes locked on Noah for his every instruction, I found something to keep me going. I wanted to do well, almost like I had something to prove. To Claire? To Noah? Or to myself? Either way, I was running, unencumbered by my hearing aids and my own insecurities, and it felt amazing.

“You looked…really happy today, Jen,” said Noah, once the treadmill playtime had ended. Claire had gone to the bathroom, leaving us alone
in the front lobby
. The smile he gave me renewed the wave of heat passing through me that had just begun to cool down after my workout.

I smiled back, fidgeting with the stubborn zipper of my hoodie.

“You know you don’t need them around me, right?” He looked at me intently. “If it’s more comfortable without them, I will make sure you hear every word
I say
.”

Looking up at him, we shared a silent moment, our eyes connected. I really believed him. Noah could be trusted—not to treat me special because I had a disability or go easy on me because he felt bad for me. He understood the way I felt about my hearing aids and he wanted to help me work around them.