Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) (8 page)

“Oh, by the way,” I would say, when we were finally lying next to each other on my futon. “I started taking the pill. In one month it will be working.” I’d mention it kind of flippantly, acting all casual and then he’d smile. The joy would radiate across his face. He’d feel loved, I’d feel loved, he’d pull me to him, we’d kiss. In my head it was all very PG. He’d hug me close and tell me he couldn’t wait for the month to be up. Maybe we’d even add a fun countdown application to our phones. We’d be super-adorable about it.

But the way things were going . . . he might not make it to my basement for the next month. Maybe I should just tell him.

“Guess where I am?” I said when I reached him.

“I have no idea. Your locker?”

I paused for a sec. “Seriously? You didn’t realize I wasn’t in school?”

“You’re not in school?”

“No, we called in sick.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I suddenly wanted his full attention. “But I did go to the doctor.”

“So you are sick?”

“Actually, we went to Planned Parenthood.”

Silence. “Really?”

“Yup. And I got the pill.”

Another pause. “Oh,” he said finally. “Cool.”

I had expected something more than “cool.” A yippee, or a hooray maybe. He knew what that meant right? “The birth control pill,” I said in case it wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah, I got that.”

Oh. Well. Um. “You sound super-excited.”

I heard him cough.

The annoyance bubbled up. “Right. Sorry to bother you.”

“April, I’m excited. It’s just . . . we never talked about that. I thought we’d just use . . . you know. Other stuff.”

Other stuff? If we were old enough to use them I would think we were old enough to say the words. Unless he didn’t want anyone to hear him say it out loud. I wondered where he was. In the hallway? He didn’t want to use the word condom in the hallway? That I could understand.

“I think we should use both,” I said. “Just in case. As backup. The doc said people usually wait a month for the pill to work.”

“So we’re going to wait another month?” he asked. Was it my imagination, or did he sound relieved?

“Yeah. Or, we don’t have to. We could just use condoms now.”

“What’s one more month?” he asked. “Better to be safe. One month then.”

“Yup. One month.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yup.”

This conversation was definitely less fun than it had been in my head. Maybe I should have waited. Waited until we were together to tell him the news. Not wait for sex.

Sex I was ready for. I already had the outfit.

Noah was the one who didn’t sound ready. Maybe he realized what a big step it was. Maybe all the talk about birth control had freaked him out about the actual possibility of getting me pregnant.

I’d have to distract him with my new outfit. I needed to get him in the mood. Maybe I should go back in and get the thigh highs.

My mom’s face flashed before my mind.

On second thought . . . I needed to be in the mood, too.

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE

I grabbed our packages then slammed the trunk closed while Vi shut the electronic garage door. Vi opened the door to the house. It was after six—once we were at the mall, we decided to see a movie.

“That’s weird,” she said. “Do you hear that? Did you leave the music on again?”

“No,” I said. Last week I’d left the music on. And the lights. Twice. Vi wasn’t thrilled. Turns out you have to pay for electricity—like, every month. Who knew?

“The lights are on too. I definitely turned those off. Maybe it’s Zelda.”

I stepped back. The murder scenes from
Vampire Nights
and every other horror show replayed in my head. Stupid people walked into their houses and got slaughtered. “Do you think we should call the police?” I asked, but she was already inside. The house wasn’t the most burglarproof. And it was next door to the public part of the sound. In low tide anyone could stroll in from the road, down the beach, and climb right onto our deck.

“A burglar doesn’t blast the music,” she said, her voice trailing off as she went farther down the hall. Then I heard, “Holy shit!”

“What? Vi?” I ran in after her and took the stairs two at a time. What if it really was a killer? What if it was crazy Lucy? And she was going to murder us?

Vi was sitting crossed-legged on the carpet holding a tiny orange-sherbet-colored kitten.

“Is this not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” she asked. “Who’s the cutest? You are, you are,” she cooed.

Aw! A kitten! “Hello there.” I crouched beside them. I missed Libby.

“Meow.”

“Aw. Did the adorable kitten turn on the music?” I asked, kicking off my boots.

“Dean did,” she said, motioning to a bag and shoes by the door. “That’s his. He’s such a slob.”

“Dean’s here?” I asked, looking around. “Where?”

“I’m guessing in the bathroom.”

We heard a flush and then Dean appeared. “Your mommies are home, kitty!”

“Ex-squeeze me?” Vi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A mommy is someone who’s supposed to take care of you,” I explained. “I know it’s a strange concept, but it happens all over the world.” Except of course, when she’s in France.

Vi snorted.

“A friend of Hudson’s has a cat who had kittens,” Dean said. “She’s looking for homes. Hudson thought April might want her . . . after losing her cat. I told him I’d ask.”

That was sweet of him to think of me. “Why didn’t Hudson come by?” I asked, disappointed. Hudson made me feel . . . gutsy. Even if he was maybe a drug dealer. No one’s perfect.

“He had to work,” Dean said, looking down.

“Where does he work again?” Vi asked.

“You know. At a job,” Dean said with a laugh.

“What is the big secret?” I asked. “I don’t get it. Unless he really is doing something illegal.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re so annoying,” Vi snapped.

“Ask him yourself. He’s coming to get me in two minutes. So nice of you two to finally come home. I’ve been waiting for hours. Where were you today?”

Vi ignored him and looked over to me. “Should we keep her?”

I twined my fingers around her tail. “Do you want to live with us, cutie?”

She reached over and petted my hand with her paw. Double aw.

“How did you get in?” I asked him.

“I used the key in the birdhouse.”

I scratched behind the kitten’s ears. She purred. “There’s a key in the birdhouse?” I asked. “Good to know.”

“So, what do you think?” Dean asked. “Vi’s house, party of three?”

The kitten opened her big green eyes and licked her right paw.

“I’m in if you are,” I said, already madly in love.

“All right,” Vi said. She pointed at the kitten. “You can hang out with us. But you’re going to have to behave. No skipping school.”

I made kissy faces.

“What should we name her?” Vi asked.

“‘We could call her Tiger,’” I sang. “‘But there’s no bite in her. Tiger! Kittens would frighten her. . . .’”

Vi rubbed her temples. “Please. No show tunes. And she
is
a kitten. Let’s call her Zelda.”

“Creepy,” I said.

“What about Donut?” Dean asked.

Vi snorted. “Where did that come from?”

“I like donuts.”

“You like the food or the name?” I asked.

“Both.”

“Me too,” I said.

Vi lifted her up and carried her to the kitchen. “Come with Mommy, Donut. Welcome to chateau Vi.”

“We promise not to take you lingerie shopping,” I said.

“Or discuss our urinary tract infections.”

“TMI,” Dean groaned.

“Not mine, dumbass. My mother’s. Anyway. Donut, we promise not to make you pay bills.”

“Or leave you alone,” I added. “Ever.”

Vi filled a bowl with water. “Although you will have to be alone when we’re at school.”

“Right,” I said, laughing. One day away and I’d forgotten it existed.

The doorbell rang. “Hudson!” I ran to the hallway and called, throwing open the door, “You are the best! Thank you!”

He stayed on the porch, smiling at me. “Does that mean you’re keeping her?”

“Of course. How could we not? She had me at meow. Come in. Donut wants to say hi.”

“Donut?”

“Your brother’s idea.”

“Don’t you know by now never to listen to my brother?”

“I heard that!” Dean yelled.

“We gotta go!” Hudson yelled back.

“You’re not staying?” I asked, disappointed.

He shrugged. “Can’t. Another time.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks again,” I said. I kind of wanted to give him a hug, but then I thought it might be weird. I didn’t want him to think I was throwing myself at him. I’m sure he had enough girls who actually were throwing themselves at him.

Screw it. He just brought me a kitten; I was giving him a hug. “Thank you,” I said into his collar. I felt his arms tighten around me. He smelled like new leather. I pulled away. “New jacket?” I asked.

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Looks expensive,” I said, putting my hand on my hip. “Coming from work?”

He smiled again.

Dean appeared beside me. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Whatever,” Vi said. She was cradling Donut in her arms.

Hudson reached out and tickled under Donut’s chin. “Hey, Donut, you’ve got a new home now. Be a good girl.” Then he tickled under Vi’s chin. “You too, Vi.”

Vi fake purred.

Dean headed out the door. “All right, ladies, we’d love to sit and purr with you all night, but . . . actually we wouldn’t.”

“See you at school,” Hudson said before following Dean to the car.

“Ach, that place,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to go tomorrow.”

Vi linked her free arm through mine as I waved good-bye to the boys. “I’m sure [email protected] would be happy to email again if you want to skip.”

“My dad,” I said, “what a giver.”

MY REAL DAD’S SCARY EMAIL (FROM HIS NEW REAL ADDRESS) TO FAKE SUZANNE

From: Jake Berman

Date: Sun, 25 Jan, 7:03 a.m.

To: Suzanne Caldwell

Subject: Checking In

Suzanne,

Hope all is well. Spoke to April last night and she seems happy. She praised your cooking, too—thanks for taking such good care of my princess. I wasn’t thrilled with this plan, but it seems to be working out. Am in Chicago for the next week, but always reachable via email or cell.

Best, Jake

Sent From BlackBerry

NERVOUS NELLY

“Should I be concerned that my father is going to run into your mother on a street corner in Chicago?” I asked.

“Your father’s email was sent at 7:03
A.M
. I am confident that when my mother is on street corners, your father is fast asleep.”

“So that’s a no.” I scratched Donut behind the ears.

“Meow.”

“Stop worrying.”

“Right. Grip. Getting one.”

LONELY IN CLEVELAND

The cell rang. Private number.

“Hello?” I said uncertainly.

“Hi, April! It’s Penny!”

“Oh. Penny. Hey.” I had just spilled Donut’s food all over the floor, and was in the process of sweeping it up. “Is everything okay? My dad’s in Chicago, right?”

“Yes, he’s fine. Everything’s great! I was just thinking of you. Thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.”

Weird. Penny doesn’t generally call me to see how I’m doing. Or ever. “I’m fine. Thanks. Just . . . cleaning.”

“That’s great. Good for you.” Silence, of the awkward variety. “So. How’s school?”

“Same as usual.”

“And Vi?”

“Good too.”

“And the car?”

“Car’s great. Thanks again.”

“My pleasure. I told your dad you needed a car. It wasn’t safe for you to be without one.”

“He told me.” I realized it would be wise for me to go on and talk to her for a while so that she’d give a good report to my dad. I also realized—double weird—that she sounded lonely. So I said, “What are you up to?”

“I’m trying to settle in. The house is a mess, of course. And it’s freezing here. Colder than Connecticut even. Strange to be back. And I’ve been trying to do some painting, but it’s hard to focus with all the unpacking I still need to do. . . .”

As she kept talking, I tried to balance the phone against my shoulder with the broom, but ended up spilling more cat food on the floor. At one point she told me she missed me (what she actually said was, “I kind of miss cleaning up after you,” but I went ahead and read between the lines). If she missed me so much, then she shouldn’t have moved to Cleveland and dragged my dad with her.

PENNY

After my dad and Penny got engaged, my dad bought another place in Westport. Sorry, my dad
and Penny
bought another place in Westport. Since we were there every second weekend, Matthew and I each got our own rooms. I took the one next to my dad’s because it was the bigger one. I would have taken Matthew’s, which was on the other side of the stairs, if I’d known that, unlike Matthew, I was going to move in full-time. But anyway.

Penny bought me a bed with a canopy. She’d always wanted one as a girl, and always wanted to have a girl with a canopy bed. So there you go.

Penny couldn’t have kids. I knew this because one day in the car, I’d asked them if they were going to have a baby. Penny got all teary. Later, my father explained that Penny had fibroid tumors. She and her ex-husband tried for seven years, but they never got pregnant. They even tried in vitro a few times but it didn’t work.

You’d think she would have been happier about inheriting a stepdaughter.

She was probably excited about the idea of me—less so with the reality.

A fifteen-year-old who you can share makeup with and see every two weeks sounds adorable.

A fifteen-year-old who gets bombed with her friends two weeks after moving in with you full-time? Less so.

PASS THE GUAC

“We need to coordinate,” Vi said during taco prep. “When’s your big night? We have to make sure that it’s not the same as mine. That would be weird.”

I grated some cheese. “It would?”

“Hells yeah. We need to each have the house to ourselves.”

I hardly ever had the house to myself. Vi was home a lot. As was I. We spent
a lot
of time together. I’ve never actually spent this much time with anyone . . . besides my family. Not even Noah.

“Definitely,” I said. “So I was kind of thinking . . . Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” she asked with a raise of the eyebrow while seasoning the pot of beef.

“What’s wrong with Valentine’s Day? Too cheesy?” I popped some cheddar in my mouth.

“Yes,” she said.

“You say cheesy, I say romantic. And practical. I started taking the pill the third week of January. We wanted to wait a month. That Saturday is Valentine’s Day. It makes sense to do it for the first time on a Saturday night.”

“Will you cover your duvet in rose petals too?”

“Oh, shut up,” I said, privately storing the idea away. Rose petals on the duvet could be really cute.

“Can you make the guac?” Vi asked.

“Um . . . we make guac? Don’t you just open it?”

“No, darling. Get an avocado, an onion, and a tomato.”

I did as I was told. And accidentally dropped a piece of cheese on the floor. Donut gobbled it up. Whoops.

“Now cut the avocado in half, scoop it, smush it, and add in a diced onion and tomato.”

Blink. Blink, blink.

She laughed. “What did you eat before you met me? McDonald’s?”

“My mom was a fan of the drive-through. Penny cooked, though. Lots of fish. Donut would have loved it.”

Donut was now standing in front of the oven.
“Meow?”

“You just never helped.”

“Not so much.”

She nodded. “No wonder they kicked you out.”

Ouch. That kind of hurt actually. To hide it, I stuck out my tongue and said, “Not exactly. So when is your big night gonna be?”

“I’m thinking . . . the night
before
Valentine’s Day.”

“Isn’t that just as cheesy?”

“No. That way when I get to tell the story of how I lost my virginity, I get to say it was on Friday the thirteenth.”

My phone rang. “Hey, Noah,” I said, laughing. “How was practice?”

“Tiring,” he said over the static of his cell.

“I think we made too much,” Vi said. “Tell Noah to come over for dinner.”

“Vi wants you to come over for dinner. Where are you?”

“Driving home. Thanks. I’m really tired, though. And my parents are expecting me.”

“So tell them you’re coming here instead.”

“Wish I could,” he said.

I hadn’t realized I’d wanted to see him until he said he couldn’t come. “Can we talk later? We’re just cooking.”

“Yup.”

“Love you,” I said.

“You too.”

I clicked off the phone and dropped it on the counter.

“Do you say ‘I love you’ every time you talk on the phone?”

“Most of the time,” I said.

“Does it mean good-bye? Or does it mean
I love you
?” she asked.

“Both,” I said. Which was true. Most of the time. Although lately I was always the one saying the “I love you,” and he was the one saying the “you too.” What was up with that?

“Maybe I should invite Dean and Hud over,” she said, stirring the pot.

“Sure,” I said, still thinking about Noah. “The more the merrier.”

THE FIRST TIME WE SAID I LOVE YOU

“What should I do?” I asked Marissa. It was right before sophomore year, the day after I’d come home from France, the day after I’d found out about Corinne and Noah. I was in her room and I couldn’t stop crying.

“It sucks,” she said. “If I’d been around this summer and seen the two of them together, I would have kicked their asses.”

“Thanks.” I sighed.

“But you did tell him he could see other people.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and rubbed my arm. “I think you have to do what feels right. You either have to get over it, or end it.”

“Break up?” The idea made me feel weak. Empty. Terrified. “What do you think I should do?”

She bit her lip. “I think it would make me very sad if you broke up. You guys are an amazing couple—the best couple. You’ve been so much happier since you got together.”

I knew what she meant—in the last nine months, since Noah and I had gotten together, I’d felt afloat. Even when my mom decided to move to Paris, I’d kept the black hole at bay. Noah was my lifesaver, I guess. Noah and Marissa. “So you think I should forgive him? Pretend nothing happened?”

“Can you?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

My cell rang. “It’s Noah.”

“Answer,” she urged.

“Hi,” I said, picking up.

“Hi,” he said. “How are you?”

I rolled into a ball and cradled the phone against my ear. “I’ve been better.”

“Do you hate me?”

I laughed. “A little.”

“Meet me at the park across from my house?”

“When?”

“Now?”

I looked up at Marissa. She nodded. “Go.”

I ran. It was more of a garden than a park. He was waiting for me on the green bench.

“Hello, cutie.”

“Don’t ‘cutie’ me,” I said. “I’m still mad at you.”

“But your cuteness needs to be expressed. Especially now. Have you decided to forgive me yet? Pretty please?”

“No. How do I know you’re not going to break up with me to start seeing her?” I asked, sitting beside him.

“Because it’s over.”

“But how do I know it’s over?” I wanted tangible proof. A signed document they’d gotten notarized that I could hold in my hand and refer to.

“Because it is,” he said. “I don’t love her.”

Everything froze. “And—?” I waited.

“I love you.”

You imagine hearing the words from someone not related to you, someone not your best friend, but when someone you love, someone you dream about, actually says them, it makes your body melt and your breath get caught in your chest.

“You love me?” I asked, leaning toward him.

He nodded.

“Say it again,” I said. I let my knee bump against his.

“I love you,” he repeated.

Yes, he had hooked up with someone else. One of my classmates. But did it matter? I’d told him he could. And what was I supposed to do now? Break up with him?

I’d decided to stay in Westport. I’d let my mother and brother move to the other side of the world. If we broke up now, what was I here for?

“I love you too,” I said, the words soft and smooth in my mouth. I did love him, I realized.

And we were back together.

STICKY FINGERS

“So where did you apply?” I asked Hudson. The four of us were sitting at the dining room table, enjoying Mexican night. We were on our third taco each.

“Brown,” he said.

“Wow. When do you hear?”

“He already heard,” Dean said. “Early decision. Jackass. Trying to make me look bad.”

“Congrats,” I said. “That’s amazing.” Maybe he wasn’t a drug dealer. Maybe he was some kind of junior executive or entrepreneurial genius. “What about you, Dean?”

“I applied everywhere. But I’m hoping for UCLA. Or USC. Or anyplace on the West Coast that takes me. Bring me some of them California girls.”

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound?” Vi asked.

“They write songs about California girls for a reason,” he countered. Then he blew her a kiss.

“April, can you pass the guac?” Hudson said. “This is good guac. And I know guac.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I made it. Plucked the avocados and everything.”

“Is it me,” Dean said, “or does this feel like a double date?”

I blushed. It kind of felt like that to me too. Not cool.

“You wish,” Vi said.

“
You
wish,” Dean repeated.

“I have my sights on someone,” Vi said, helping herself to another taco. “And it
isn’t
you.”

Dean put a hand to his heart. “Who?”

“Liam.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “He’s a bozo. A lucky bozo.”

“Are you guys friends?” Hudson asked.

“No,” Vi said. “But I’ve been trying to get his attention.”

“So that’s why you’ve been wearing all those low-cut tops!” Dean exclaimed.

Vi lowered her head and sighed. “At least someone’s noticing.”

I took another bite of my taco. “Maybe he’s playing hard to get.”

“He’s not playing hard to get. He
is
hard to get. I’ve been following him for weeks and nothing!”

“Maybe . . . that’s the problem?” Hudson offered. “Some guys don’t like being chased.”

“Please, Sloane chased you all the way through the school and parking lot,” Vi said, smirking.

“I didn’t say
I
didn’t like being chased,” Hudson said. He cocked his head and smiled.

“What happened with you and Sloane?” I asked. “Did you break up because of the long distance? What school did she go to?”

“Northwestern,” he said. “But no. We just weren’t right for each other.”

“Hudson knew she wasn’t the one,” Dean said in a slightly mocking tone.

“She was only the first,” Vi added slyly.

Now Hudson blushed. “I realized I didn’t feel the way about her that I was supposed to. I didn’t think it was fair to stay together.”

“She certainly still feels that way about you,” Dean said. “She tried to molest him over Christmas break.”

“Dean, come on,” Hudson said.

“Well, she did. She kept stopping by our house in inappropriate-for-the-weather outfits. But my brother kept turning her down.”

“Guys do that?” Vi asked. She pulled out a notebook and a pen from who knows where. “The stereotype is that guys will have sex with anyone. False?”

“True,” Dean said. “Usually.”

“So why didn’t you?” Vi asked Hudson.

Hudson looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t want her to think it meant something that it didn’t. And you are not allowed to quote me.”

“You’ll be anonymous, don’t worry. So you would have had sex if there had been no repercussions.”