The Girls (7 page)

It wasn't that I didn't like Maya; it's just that she got so
happy
about stuff. Not that happy is bad. It's ... well, this sounds really snobby, but Maya was like a little kid. She wanted to climb trees, ride bikes around without going anywhere—just play.

Sometimes it was okay, but other times, being with Maya was like wearing shoes I'd outgrown. I looked away from the banana trees and shook thoughts of Maya out of my head. I wondered instead what I should wear to school Monday that might catch Eric, the new boy's, eye.

M
Y DAD ALWAYS WANTED to do something special on our Sundays together, but I didn't much want something special. I just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball. But he looked worried and asked me if I was feeling all right, so I said, “I'm just tired. We stayed up really late at the sleep-over.”

“Had a late night myself,” Dad said.

For a split second I wondered if he could have had a date. But then he continued, “Apparently there was an all-out cowboy brawl at Nickless Betty's.”

I remembered that it used to be called Nick and Betty's Lounge, but then Nick died and my dad jokingly told my mom and me that it was Nickless Betty's now. I'd thought that was funny but my mom got annoyed. “That's exactly the kind of insensitivity I mean!” she'd said and huffed out of the room. I hated memories like that, memories that started out fun but ended in a cringe.

“Got the call about eleven,” Dad was saying. “I got there, and nine cue sticks were broken in half, and some joker had slashed the felt off the pool table. The boys were all in a lather because the jukebox was dead. But no one thought it might be because
they'd
knocked it over.” My dad laughed and shook his head. “Cowboys,” he said.

I didn't know what to say. I was glad my dad thought I was old enough to hear about his work, but I hated to picture him walking into a bar full of angry drunks late at night, all alone.

“Want to go to a movie, maybe?” I asked.

“Absolutely!” he said. “As long as it's not about cowboys.”

The only movie that was at the right time and close by was one I'd seen last week with my mom. I didn't say so, though, because I was afraid it would make him feel bad. I really didn't mind seeing it twice. And it wasn't my dad's fault that he wanted our Sundays to be special. It was his only chance, I guess, to be
Dad.

I wished he could relax, though. In the old days, between service calls and his daily jukebox route, he used to just pick up the newspaper and disappear behind it. I missed that. I missed everyone acting normal. I wished I could just
be.

After the film was over, we picked up Thai food because my dad knew it was my favorite. Actually, I was tired of Thai food, but there we go again, everyone trying to guess what will make the other one happy and no one guessing right. Maybe after the divorce was over and done with, we could all just go back to being ourselves. In the meantime, Dad and I went back to his apartment so I could eat my 900th dish of pad Thai and chicken satay with spicy peanut sauce.

I looked at Dad's telephone, and Maya's number ran through my mind, ruining my appetite. But I didn't call. I was ashamed of being such a wimp, but I didn't know what to say to her. And wasn't life hard enough without having to worry about Maya?

I reminded myself that I really didn't have anything to feel guilty about. Mom was right, it wasn't
my
squirm. It wasn't
me
who didn't invite Maya to Darcy's party, and it wasn't me who made those nasty calls or said that stuff about her breath or her mom's teeth. I fought down a wave of guilt, telling myself that as long as I acted nice tomorrow at school, I had nothing to feel bad about.

My dad had fallen asleep in his chair. His mouth was open; he looked dead. Well, not
dead
exactly, but old. It made me sad to picture him here, alone all the time. No one to listen for his key in the lock. No one to know if he got home safely from late-night service calls.

I knew he was going to be embarrassed that he'd conked out while I was visiting. I rustled my homework papers, then thumped my book, and saw him lurch awake out of the corner of my eye.

I looked at the clock. It was too late to call Maya tonight. I felt like a creep, remembering last summer. That's when my dad moved out and I was sent to that horrible sleep-away camp. I'd been so lonely, I thought I'd die. It was Maya who'd written me cheer-up letters every single day. None of the other girls did that.

Then a car horn honked. I'm sure the whole apartment building heard it. My dad sprang to his feet.

Oops, my homework was spread all over the table. I gathered it up as fast as I could, remembering that I'd meant to help Dad with the dishes. I promised myself that next Sunday I'd be more helpful and better company too. Well, there aren't many dishes from take-out Thai anyway, right?

My dad walked over to the window and looked down at Mom's car. He didn't wave or anything. I kissed him, told him I'd had fun, and dashed out the door.

When I got to the car, my mom said, “I specifically
asked
you to be ready!” instead of hello.

T
ESS, ONE OF THE TWINS, shot out Candace's door and ran naked into the front yard just as I got there. When I nabbed her, she squealed with delight. I carried her inside and Candace rolled her eyes. From the way she said “You're such a natural with babies,” I couldn't tell if she meant it as a compliment or an insult.

After I wrestled Tess into a diaper and trapped both twins in high chairs, Candace said, “What did you say the new boy's name was? Because we got a new kid in my Sunday school today.”

My heart went thump. “Eric.”

“No, this guy was Jeremy. He just moved here. He's nice.”

“I don't know if Eric's nice or not. Haven't talked to him yet,” I said. “He sat way across the room in art.” Then I remembered and said, “
Maya's
in my art class. That'll be so weird tomorrow!”

Candace smiled at me.

“We sit next to each other,” I explained. “What am I supposed to say to her?”

Candace shrugged, as if that were
my
problem.

“Well, what should I
say
? How should I
act
?” I asked, hearing myself whine.

Candace blinked at me as if she barely recognized what species of creature I was. I tried to read her face, but there was nothing else written there.

Beth dropped her sippy cup and started to howl. After we got her calmed down, Candace laughed. “Wouldn't you love to have seen Maya's face when Darcy called her last night?”

No, I would
not
have loved to see Maya's face, I thought. I'm sure she was freaked. Probably cried. Ick and double ick! Why would I want to see that? And I was now completely dreading art class.

“But Candace,” I said. “How do you
want
me to act with Maya?”

“Me?” Candace asked incredulously. “You're asking me how I want
you
to act?”

I nodded, feeling like a total fool, an ant, a nothing.

“And should I tell you how to walk?” Candace asked. “Talk? Think? Be? My God, Brianna, I'm not your mother!”

“Well, I can't
hate
Maya, I mean, I can't
hate
hate her, like she's the worst person that ever lived,” I stammered, sounding like Renée. My heart beat faster. Why did it feel daring not to hate someone? I got confused, could feel myself blush.

“You
like
Maya?” Candace asked, her voice full of scorn.

“No, not particularly,” I said, not sure anymore what I thought about
anyone.
“It's just that I'm sick of the whole Maya thing. It's boring.”

“Oh, really?” Candace asked. “Well, Brianna, I'm so sorry to have BORED you!” She picked up a magazine and started leafing through the pages as if she were alone in the room. I watched the twins rub applesauce in their hair.

I could barely whisper when I said, “I don't even know, really, why everyone's so mad at her.”

“We're not
mad
at your little friend.” Candace sneered, flipping her magazine onto a chair. “We just think she's
boring.
Mind if I take a shower?”

She didn't wait for my answer, just walked out of the room. I wiped the twins' faces and let them down from their high chairs. Candace's shower ran for a long, long time. My parents always made me take short showers to conserve water.

Candace's dad came home after a while. He seemed surprised to find me watching his babies. The twins ran to climb his legs as if he were a tree. He asked where Candace was. I didn't hear the shower anymore.

“In her room?” I suggested. Mr. Newman raised his eyebrows the same way Candace did. A few minutes later I got up and walked home—to my quiet, quiet house.

I
CALLED CANDACE LATER and said, “I'm grounded!” But I never did tell her why I was grounded, because she didn't ask. She wanted to talk about my party. Actually, she only wanted to talk about Brianna.

“Don't you think Brianna acted like a turd?” she asked.

I thought quickly back over the party, trying to remember what lame thing Brianna had done.

“Well, she called Renée an
elephant
,” Candace said. “If I was Renée, I would have decked her.”

“Do you think Brianna meant it like that?” I asked.

“Don't
you
?” Candace asked, as if I were entirely stupid or kidding or something. It made a chill go up my spine. Candace continued, “And who is she to call Renée an elephant? Brianna's the one with a trunk!”

I was about to tell her that Renée thought Brianna wanted a nose job, but I didn't have a chance because Candace was saying, “No, she's a cow! A big old, sway-backed moo cow. Those eyes of hers!”

I laughed. Brianna did have cow eyes.

Candace went on, “Don't you just see her in a little flowered apron, fussing over all her grubby little cowettes?” Candace put on a slow, dumb voice and said, “Ho-hum, having babies, chewing my cud.”

I giggled.

“I tell you, Darcy, sometimes I think the world is turning me into my mother! Forcing me to spend my life taking care of everyone but myself! I mean, it's not Brianna's
fault
or anything, and maybe she doesn't
mean
to, but sometimes I feel like I have to remind her to breathe! I practically have to wipe her butt like she's one of the twerps!”

I had a creepy moment wondering if Candace included me in “everyone she had to take care of.” But then she said, “Brianna actually asked
me
what
she
should say to Maya tomorrow! Can you believe that? She asked me how I
wanted
her to act!”

I pretended to be shocked. “Brianna asked that?”

“Oh, so Brianna can audition for that play all by herself,” Candace continued. “But somehow she can't make any other decision without me. What does she do when I'm not there? Just sit like a lump with her hands in her lap?”

I said something or other. Candace sounded really upset, and I knew it was best to just let her roll.

“Brianna's parents must be horrified!” Candace continued. “Here they are, science professors, and their own daughter has no more curiosity about the world than a cow!”

I certainly didn't remind Candace that Brianna got all A's.

“Oh, excuse me, I forgot about her fabulous acting career,” Candace said sarcastically. “What a coincidence that she gets parts in the university plays, where she just happens to have not one, but
two
parents on the faculty. I wonder how many strings her parents will pull to get her a part this year.”

I laughed.

“I dread sitting through another one of those shows, don't you?” Candace did not wait for my answer. She went on, “And let's say she
does
become an actress: How does she plan to raise all those baby cows of hers? Does she expect
me
to come and baby-sit? Does she think that
that's
what I'd want to do after all these eons of watching my bother and the twerps? No, she probably thinks she'll be so rich and successful that she can hire a full-time, live-in staff! Nannies, maybe a butler, gardener, cooks, maids, chauffeur, hair stylist . . .”

Candace paused to catch her breath and I added, “No doubt Brianna will have at least one dog groomer, a few stable boys, a pastry chef.”

“Tennis coach,” Candace said, finally laughing. “Personal trainer, masseuse?”

Candace and I laughed until my mother made me hang up.

I'd been right all along. I'd never thought Brianna would last. Back when Candace first took up with her, I hadn't said a word, just added a B. If Candace would bring in some girls with names starting with vowels, I could come up with actual WORDS! But now, drop the B for Brianna. That left C, D, R, Cows Don't Rate.

I knew the reason Candace brought new girls into the group was because she was so friendly and curious about people. She thought
everyone
was fascinating, for a while at least. She got excited about them and then she was finished. I just waited it out—no threat to me. I knew I'd always be Candace's best friend, and that's what mattered. That's really
all
that mattered.

Apparently my sister had been eavesdropping on my telephone conversation, because when I passed through the kitchen she said, “Brianna's next, huh? It should be your turn in no time.” I kept walking and didn't even look at her.