Tell (13 page)

Shane set down his pen and stood.  “Let’s see what SparkNotes has to say.”

The two of them went downstairs to the computer
in the den.  Shane got on the internet and found the SparkNotes web site.  He navigated through to the “literature” section, selected
Ethan Frome
, and clicked the link marked “Themes, Motifs, and Symbols,” then scrolled down.  He pointed at the screen.  “ ‘The cat and the pickle dish,’ ” he read.

“No way!”  Cadie pulled up a second chair to the computer.  “Scoot over,” she commanded.  Shane moved out of the way and she leaned forward to read the screen.

“Yep, there it is,” Shane said, looking around her to read the screen as well.  “That and apparently Mattie’s red scarf and red ribbon.”

“Well, that was obvious,” Cadie answered dismissively.

He smirked.  “Obvious, huh?”

“Usually any time they make a point of saying what color something is, it has some hidden meaning behind it,” she explained.  “Red signifies a lot of things, usually anger or sin.  In this case it was probably sin, like in
The Scarlet Letter
.  It represents Ethan’s thoughts of cheating on his wife.”  She shrugged one shoulder.  “Red also usually represents passion.  It could symbolize his passion for Mattie.”

Shane was silent and Cadie glanced over her shoulder at him.  He must have been looking at her strangely, because she seemed embarrassed.  Her face flushed and she turned quickly back to the computer screen.

“What are the meanings of other colors?” Shane asked her.  “You know, for future reference.  Because I’m surely not done writing papers for this man.”

Cadie sat back in the chair, looking thoughtful.  “Green can represent envy,” she said, nodding to herself.  “Yellow usually means fear, or maybe illness.”

“What about like… orange?  My car is orange.”

“Orange is pretty obscure.  I would go onto SparkNotes for that one,” she responded, and he laughed.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes as Cadie read over some more things SparkNotes had to say about
Ethan Frome
.  Finally, Shane spoke up again.  “I owe you,” he said.

She looked at him.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I owe you.  First last night, and now today, with this assignment.”

“You don’t owe me for last night,” she disagreed.  “You gave me five bucks, remember?  I was
going
to use it to buy shoes at the mall today,” she added bitterly.

“I thought you were going to use it to buy me grilled stickies,” Shane said, distracting her.

She shrugged.  “Eh.  I changed my mind.”

Shane laughed.  “Well, I do owe you for today; that much I know.”  Cadie folded her arms and looked away, and Shane realized she seemed uncomfortable.  He cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re good at calculus, aren’t you?” she interrupted.

He was taken aback.  “Yes,” he said slowly.

“Well… I kind of suck at it,” she admitted.

It occurred to Shane
why
she seemed uncomfortable; she did not like to admit that she was having trouble with something.  “You want me to help you study for calculus?” he asked her.

“I mean, just to help you out.  So you won’t owe me anymore.”

He could not help but smile.  “Sure, I’d love to help you study for calculus,” he responded.  “Thanks for—offering to do that for me.”

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like a very long time.  Finally, Cadie stood.  “I should get going,” she said.

“Yeah.  I’ll catch you on Monday.”

“See you later,” she responded.

After she had left through the front door, Shane went back up to his bedroom.  He saw the notepads and
Oedipus Rex
on his desk, but deliberately ignored them and walked toward his bed.  With a heavy sigh, he flopped down on the bed facedown.

He felt something underneath his chest and reached beneath him with his left hand.  Shane extracted the object from between the comforter and his body and held it up to look at it.  It was a tube of raspberry Aquafina lip balm.  Evidently it had fallen out of Cadie’s purse.

Shane stared at it for a moment, then tossed it across the room onto his desk, where it promptly rolled off onto the floor.

As Cadie approached the Ford, fumbling with her keys, she allowed herself a brief moment of self-disgust. 
He’s playing you,
a voice in her head assured her. 
You know that, right?  He always sleeps with Felicia’s friends and you are no different.  You’re just the next on his list.

That night, Cadie wrote in her novel for the first time since March.

Twelve

Melody and Susan were in Melody’s bedroom, on her ancient four-poster bed that had been her grandmother’s.  The room itself was the smallest bedroom upstairs, and having never been redone since she was born, the walls were still painted pale pink, which caused her to feel like she was perpetually in a nursery.  Cadie’s room had never been redone, either, but hers was plastered with blue flowered wallpaper.

Melody knew that Susan did not like being at the Dawsons’ house; she did not find it nearly as comfortable as she found her own.  Also, without the pool or stereo to distract her, she was required to devote all of her attention to Melody’s mundane tales of Andy, which bored her tirelessly.

“So, you didn’t tell Andy,” prompted Susan.  “Not even close?”

“Well, I
was
close,” Melody explained, “but then Cadie said she was ready to go, so we went.”  She took a handful of popcorn from the big bowl that sat between them on the bed.  Popcorn was the only snack that Susan would eat, and only if it was unsalted and unbuttered.

“Where were you when the timer went off?”

“Walking to the car.  Cadie was with us,” she added, as if this would somehow relieve her of her failure.

Susan sighed and leaned back against Melody’s mountain of quilted white and pink pillows.  “So, what’s the new plan, then?” she demanded.

Melody shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Susan sighed, an annoying sound that seemed, to Melody, to last for far too long considering her lung capacity.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m tired of talking about this.”

“You don’t think
I’m
tired of talking about this?”

“I mean it, Melody.  You’ve been in limbo with this for like two years and it’s seriously getting old.  I think we need to put a taboo on Andy’s name.”

“He’s not Lord Voldemort,” Melody answered, stung.

“He might as well be.  He’s been lurking forever but I can’t figure out how to get rid of him.”  Susan paused, as if waiting for a response, but Melody had none.  “So, the new rule is, until you actually grow up and tell Andy that you like him, we’re not going to talk about him anymore.”

Melody’s feelings were hurt, but as she thought about it, she realized how annoying her blathering about Andy must be.  Even though they were friends, she would not want to be subjected to Susan’s ramblings about a guy that she was too scared to go after.  Melody nodded.  “Fair enough.”

There was a long silence, in which Melody stared out the window and recounted the events of the previous evening, and Susan looked uninterestedly around the room, as if she could not believe that Melody did not have her own entertainment system in her bedroom.  Finally, Susan broke the silence by announcing, “I’ve decided I’m going to go after Shane.”

Melody looked at her with a mixture of surprise and amusement.  “Oh?”  She cleared her throat, fighting back a smile.  “I thought you said that you and Amanda were really close.”

“We are.  But Shane obviously likes me now.  He doesn’t like Amanda anymore.”

“How do you know he doesn’t?” Melody asked reasonably.  She helped herself to more popcorn, realizing that Susan had eaten none, and wondered why she had been so concerned about providing a snack that was healthy when Susan was just going to ignore it.

“I overheard a conversation between her and Meredith last night,” Susan admitted.  “Apparently they had made plans last night, but he ditched out.  He doesn’t like her anymore.”

“Maybe he forgot,” Melody suggested, “or maybe he had to make curfew.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t like her anymore,” Susan countered.

Melody chewed and swallowed her popcorn.  “He left at the same time we did last night,” she said thoughtfully.

“Did he?  Did you see him get into his car?  I
love
that car,” Susan said rapturously.

“No.  He came over and caught us before we left.  He wanted to talk to Cadie about something.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know,” Melody responded irritably.  “Andy and I were in the car with the doors and windows shut.  I couldn’t hear them.  Not that I would purposely eavesdrop,” she added hastily.

“It doesn’t matter.  I have to figure out a way to get him.”

“Well, if he likes you, shouldn’t it be easy?” Melody asked dryly.

Felicia waited impatiently on the front porch of the Wyants’ house on Sunday afternoon.  Finally, Elliot came to the door.  Felicia turned around and waved at Shane, who had been sitting in the Camaro with the engine running, waiting to make sure she got inside okay.  He honked once, then drove off.

Elliot opened the door and stepped back to let Felicia inside.  “It was nice of Shane to drive you,” she remarked.

Felicia saw whom she assumed to be Elliot’s mother appear in the doorway to the kitchen.  She glanced at Elliot.

Elliot looked over her shoulder.  “Oh, hey, Mom,” she said.  “This is Felicia.  Remember, I told you we have dance class together.  And English.”

Elliot’s mother, who was also tall and blonde with blue eyes, stepped forward and extended her hand.  Felicia shook it, slightly taken aback; it was reminiscent of her first encounter with Elliot.  “Hi, I’m Deborah.  It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Will you be staying for dinner, Felicia?”

Felicia glanced at Elliot, who shrugged.  “Um, sure,” she answered.  She could not remember the last time she had eaten dinner at a house that was not her own or Brian’s.

“Great,” Deborah said, smiling.

“Mom, we’re going to my room for awhile,” Elliot said, taking Felicia by the arm and dragging her up the staircase.

The Wyants’ house was a split-level, and it reminded Felicia of the Dawsons’ house, though Elliot’s was considerably smaller.  Her bedroom was at the end of the hallway on the left.  It was painted sage green with white trim.

Elliot shut her bedroom door behind them.  “You and Brian had sex last night, didn’t you?”

Felicia picked at a thread on Elliot’s green-and-white striped bedspread.  “We may have,” she said noncommittally.

Elliot smacked her hand roughly, and Felicia drew her arm away in alarm.  “Cut the bull,” Elliot commanded.  “That’s why you came over here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Felicia admitted.

“Well, how was it?”

Felicia hesitated.  “I’m not sure,” she finally responded.

“Was it awkward and weird?” Elliot prompted knowingly.

Felicia’s eyes widened.  “Yes!  That’s exactly what it was like!  How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

Elliot rolled her eyes.  “That’s what
everyone’s
first time is like.  Well,” she amended, “every
girl’s
first time.  People try to make it sound like beauty and fireworks, but it’s really just awkward and weird.  Did it hurt?”

Felicia furrowed her brow, remembering.  “Not really,” she answered.  “I mean, yeah, a little.  But mostly, it was just kind of uncomfortable.”

“Especially because he’s, like, ten inches taller than you.”

“Fourteen,” Felicia corrected her.

“Jesus.”  Elliot paused.  “Does that count as a swear word?”

“I’m too stunned to care about swear words today.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say so?”

Felicia let that remark pass.  “So what does this mean?” she persisted.

“It means you’re now a girl who has been disappointed by a sexual experience,” Elliot responded flatly.  “Congratulations.  Welcome to the world.”

“I meant, what does this mean for me and Brian?  Should we do it again?”

“Well, do you want to?”

Felicia’s immediate internal response was
no,
but she felt embarrassed saying that out loud to Elliot.  Instead, she said, “I don’t know.  Is it going to be like this every single time we do it?”

“Doubtful,” answered Elliot.  “The awkwardness is usually just at the beginning.  After you do it a few more times, it starts to get nice.”

Felicia did not reply.  She was not willing to admit this to Elliot, but having sex with Brian again was not at the top of her list of things she desperately wanted to do.  She just did not know how she was supposed to explain that to Brian.

Andy sat with Lucas and Neil during a water break at Monday’s practice.  They were on the grass, sitting in the shadows that stood on the edge of the field near the fence.  Because it was Monday, they were on the practice field, a fact that tended to make Mr. Bell a little testy; here there were no bleachers to be able to climb in order to check their forms.  They would be able to practice in the stadium on Thursday, when the football team was not using the stadium for their own practice.  Fortunately, there was also no public address system on the practice field, either, which meant Mr. Bell could not hook up the metronome to blast the tempo directly into their skulls.

Because Andy and Neil had both forgotten their water bottles, Lucas had been kind enough to share his during their break.  His exact words had been, “Okay, but you jerks better not give me VD.”

Neil took a sip of Lucas’s water as he stared across the field at Kristy.  “I swear, her boobs are like a faithful boyfriend’s kryptonite.”

“When have you ever been a faithful boyfriend?” Andy countered.  “Actually, scratch that.  When have you been anyone’s boyfriend, ever?”

“At least I’ve gotten laid, which is more than I can say for you two losers.”

Andy looked at Lucas to see how he would weigh in on this conversation, but Lucas was not paying attention.  Andy followed his gaze and saw Tiffany and Melody in conversation about twenty yards away.  He kicked Lucas lightly.  “Hey,” he said.

Lucas turned to look at him.  “What’s up?”

Andy nodded in the direction of the two girls.  “Why are you staring at Tiffany?  Do you like her or something?”

“What?” Lucas asked, and Andy thought his incredulity sounded genuine.  “No.  I was just spacing.”  He changed the subject.  “So how was the party on Friday?”

“It went pretty well.  I talked to Amanda,” Andy said hopefully.

“Oh?  What about?”

“We didn’t really talk about much,” Andy admitted.  “Just small talk.  Plus I didn’t stay with her too long, since I was there with Melody.”  He looked pointedly at Lucas, who averted his eyes.  “Anyway, she accepted my friend request on Facebook.”

Neil scoffed, “Well, you’re practically married then.”

“Shut up.”

“What you should do is poke her on Facebook,” he suggested.  “If she pokes you back, you’re totally in.”  His eyes snapped back to Kristy again.  “Oh, come
on. 
Would you look at this?”

Andy and Lucas turned curiously to look at the drum major.  She was sitting on the sideline, lathering her arms with suntan lotion.  Andy rolled his eyes.

Neil stood up and without another word started walking over to Kristy’s seat on the sideline.

“Dude, where are you going?”
Andy asked with a raised voice.

“This should be good,”
Lucas said under his breath.

They watched Neil sit down on the other side of Kristy.  She barely looked up as he sat down.  He leaned forward, and although they could not hear what he said to her, they both assumed that it was some kind of rude and suggestive comment by the appalled look that came over her face.  She immediately stopped lathering and turned to look at him.  He grinned at her.

Kristy drove the heel of her hand into the bottle of suntan lotion, causing a huge spurt of the white gelatinous substance to cascade over Neil’s face.  Andy and Lucas both covered their mouths with their hands to hide their laughter, but the other kids who had seen the spectacle were not as polite and laughed openly at Neil’s expense.  Kristy dropped the bottle into the grass and stood up.

“It’d probably feel something like
that
,” she said vehemently, then stormed off.

Melody had stayed after school on Tuesday to sort through the music, as she had promised Mr. Bell she would.  It had given her reason not to take the bus home from school on the day that Cadie had her meeting for
The Inner Eye
.  Next week, she would have to come up with something else to avoid the bus.

She had stayed after, along with a few other people.  Kristy had readily volunteered, surprising nobody; generally if there was something to be done to help the band, she was doing it.  A couple of the section leaders had stayed as well, including Tiffany.  Melody
had
been surprised, however, when Lucas had volunteered to assist after overhearing Melody telling Mr. Bell that they were going to do it that day.  She assumed he must not have anything better to do.  Andy had not stayed, saying that he needed to catch a ride home with his mother and declining Melody’s offer to ride home with her and Cadie.