The Trouble with Emily Dickinson (20 page)

“Okay. Try this one on for size,” JJ began.
“What if last night was basically a chance for you to see yourself
through your own eyes, or through the eyes of some of the girls you
hook up with and leave hanging? You felt how they feel after you
cast them aside. You felt the need for something more, something a
bit more real. You felt the need to open yourself up to someone
else. And it bothered you that you were actually the one who got
burned.”

Queenie squinted and shifted in her seat, as
if she were contemplating JJ’s words long and hard. Then she
grimaced and retrieved the remote control from beneath her because
it was pinching her butt and tossed it aside.

“Nope. I don’t think that’s it,” she said. “I
think I just wondered—for a very, very, extremely brief moment—what
it would be like to actually date someone. And thankfully, that
girl’s response brought me back to reality.”

“That girl?” JJ cringed, and rubbed her
temples. “You don’t even remember her name?”

“Shelia—Shannon. I don’t know. It was
something that started with an ‘S’.”

“Are you listening to what you are
saying?”

“What? She probably doesn’t remember my name
either.”

“Wait a minute. Five seconds ago you had a
conscience. You had a moment of guilt. A moment when the enormous
brick wall that normally hides your emotions came tumbling down.
What happened?”

“Eh. It passed.”

“It passed?”

“Yes. The moment passed.”

“Just like that?”

Queenie snapped her fingers, “Just like
that.”

JJ threw her hands up in the air, “How in the
world is that possible?”

“Simple. I realized who I was talking
to.”

“And just who are you talking to?”

“I’m talking to someone who does the opposite
of me. Someone who opens herself up to people. Someone who doesn’t
have a so-called brick wall. So she ends up being someone who gets
hurt on a regular basis.” Queenie weighed one hand against the
other. “I figure, hey—it’s safer doing things my way. At least I’m
not the one who gets hurt.”

Though she didn’t admit it, JJ knew that
Queenie was right on some level. After all, she’d been right about
Kendal.

CHAPTER 28

JJ’s stomach tossed and turned in directions
she didn’t know were possible. She sat in the dining hall, forcing
down bites of spaghetti with marinara sauce, between ample gulps of
milk. Queenie sat across from her, comfortably stuffing her face as
usual.

“How can you eat like that before a game?” JJ
asked, as Queenie shoved a piece of bread slathered with butter
into her eager mouth.

“I’m hungry,” Queenie said, as if being
hungry gave her the right to devour any and every piece of food set
in front of her. “I need energy for the game. And so do you.”

JJ set her fork down and rubbed her stomach.
“I feel like I am going to throw up.”

“It’s just a game,” Queenie said as she
proceeded to mop up the rest of the sauce on her plate with another
piece of buttered bread. “It really isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I know.” JJ picked up her fork again, this
time with determination. “I can’t help it. I get nervous.” She spun
some pasta around the fork and opened wide.

“You get nervous about everything. Maybe some
Prozac would help?”

“Prozac is an anti-depressant. And I’m not
depressed. I just get a little anxious now and then.”

“A little?” Queenie mocked. “You get anxious
when it’s raining outside and you can’t find an umbrella.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Trust me. You are that bad.”

“Why don’t you ever get nervous?”

Queenie shrugged and ate more bread and
butter.

“That’s just part of your character, I
suppose,” JJ said enviously. “I wish I could be as carefree as you
sometimes.”

“I wish I could write like you sometimes,”
Queen returned. “Besides, what makes you think I’m so
carefree?”

“Gee, I don’t know. How about the fact that
you barely blink under what I would consider stressful
situations.”

“Such as?”

“Such as—talking to girls, taking exams,
playing in basketball games, graduating from high school, getting
into a good college—pretty much life in general.”

“It’s all trivial, JJ. You put too much stock
into things that don’t matter.”

“Exams don’t matter? Basketball doesn’t
matter? College doesn’t matter?”

“Not in the big scheme of things. Life is too
short to worry about the small stuff. You think I care if Coach
chews me out for missing a shot that would have won us a game?
There’s always going to be another game. There’s always going to be
another girl to talk to. And in life there’s always going to be
another exam or test of some sort, on paper or otherwise. Why break
a sweat over each one?”

“Come on, Queenie,” said JJ. “There are
things in life that are worth sweating over.”

“Maybe. But just hear me out.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“Take your stage fright, for instance. What
is it that you really are afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of what people are going to think
about my work.”

“That’s just an excuse and you know it,” said
Queenie. She pointed a knowing finger about an inch away from JJ’s
nose. “People are going to critique your work whether you read it
out loud or not. You’re a writer, JJ. It’s part of the game you’re
in.”

“Then what am I afraid of?” asked JJ.

“What you really are afraid of is success.
Because once you get up on stage and read your stuff—just
once—you’ll be able to do it again without thinking twice. You’ve
just got to do it knowing that you are going to get up there again,
knowing that there will be other opportunities to do so, knowing
that the first time you get up there isn’t the end-all, be-all for
you. Deep inside, you know you can do it. Deep inside, you know you
want to do it.” Queenie pressed her finger to JJ’s nose as if she
were pushing a button. “You just have to quit stalling, and do
it!”

“You know,” JJ started her response, and then
whacked Queenie’s finger away from her face, “Despite all the
nonsense you have ever spouted before, this time you are actually
making sense.”

Queenie smiled, folded her hands and began to
twiddle her thumbs.

If JJ didn’t know any better, she would have
assumed that Queenie was wise beyond her years. But she did know
better. She also knew how easy it was to give sound advice to other
people, rather than taking advice yourself. She gave Queenie a long
look.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Queenie continued to
twiddle.

“Come on, Queenie. Isn’t there anything in
this world that you’re afraid of?”

Queenie tipped her toes and leaned back,
tilting the front legs of her chair up in the air, and stared up at
the ceiling. JJ waited patiently for her to respond, and picked at
her spaghetti even though she knew she was finished eating.

“Yes,” Queenie said at last.

“Yes?”

“Yes. There is one thing that I am afraid
of.”

“And that would be?”

“Becoming my parents.”

JJ glared at her, “I was being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You’re way too hard on them.”

“Listen. You know my parents, but you don’t
really know my parents. I don’t want to be anything like them.”

“That’s fine,” JJ said, sliding her plate
aside. “But don’t push it to the limit by taking advantage of them
at every turn, or belittling them every chance you get. You never
let it rest. It’s almost as if you enjoy making life difficult for
them to appease your own agenda when maybe, if you just talked to
them, you might be able to find common ground you can share with
them.”

“Trust me,” Queenie said as she settled her
chair back into an upright position, “There’s no common
ground.”

“I wonder sometimes—” JJ posed. “If you
didn’t have your parents to torment on a regular basis, who would
you be? You define yourself by defying them.”

Before Queenie had a chance to respond, a
shadow fell over the table. Both JJ and Queenie looked up. Kyan
Stevens loomed over them.

“Do you know him?” Queenie asked. She pointed
her thumb awkwardly in his direction, like a hitchhiker lazily
hailing a ride.

“Can I talk to you?” Kyan asked, keeping his
eyes planted on JJ, ignoring Queenie altogether. “It’s
important.”

“I’ll leave you two kids alone,” Queenie
volunteered, and gave up her seat. She raised an eyebrow at JJ as
if to say, “Who is this creep?”

Kyan sat down across from JJ, uninvited. He
had the kind of look on his face that said he either was incredibly
desperate or had just flunked a test. “I need you to do something
for me,” he said.

“I’m sorry—what?” JJ returned.

“I said I need you to do something for
me.”

“Um—why?”

“Because you seem like a nice person.”

JJ hated the fact that he was right. “True,
but I’m still not following you.”

“You’re friends with Kendal McCarthy,
right?”

“You could say that.” JJ’s eyes drifted over
to the cheerleading table. It was empty.

“Come on. I used to see you two hanging
around together all the time. I know you’re tight with her.” Kyan
leaned in and whispered, “That’s why I want you to talk to her
about me.”

“Talk to her about you?”

“Yes.”

“And why would I do that exactly?”

“Because I want to go out with her.”

JJ cocked her head to one side, and asked the
obvious question that was dancing on her tongue. “Why don’t you
just ask her yourself?”

“She’s kind of playing hard to get, if you
know what I mean.” Kyan reached up and idly scratched his right
bicep, which appeared as though it was about to burst out of his
tightly-fitting sweater. “And I know how girls always listen to
their friends when it comes to dating guys. I just need you to say
a few nice things about me.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re her friend.”

“But I hardly know you.”

“What’s to know? I’m the captain of the
soccer team, I’m going to go to law school, I’m popular, and,” he
smiled devilishly, “it’s been said that I’m one of the best looking
guys at school. Why wouldn’t you want her to date a guy like
me?”

I could think of a thousand reasons why not,
JJ thought.

“All I need you to do is give her a little
nudge in my direction,” Kyan explained.

“Listen, I don’t think I’m the right person
to—”

“Because I really like her. And this would
help me out a lot.”

JJ sat there, entirely confused. The
conversation seemed so out of the realm of reality that she almost
pinched herself to see if she were dreaming. “Look, I can
appreciate your interest in Kendal,” she said, “but I’m not the
person you should be talking to.”

“Why not?” Kyan practically whined. “You two
seem like best friends or something.”

“We aren’t best friends. We aren’t even
friends. I was her tutor. That’s it. We don’t even talk anymore.
Why don’t you ask one of her cheerleading buddies to help you
out?”

“I did. Kendal didn’t listen to them.”
“Then I’d doubt she’d listen to me.” JJ stood up and pushed her
chair in. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“Wait—” Kyan reached over and grabbed hold of
JJ’s arm as she passed by his side of the table. “Can’t you at
least give me some advice on how to win her over? Anything at
all?”

“Like I said, I can’t help you.” JJ stared at
his hand until he let go. “I’ve got a game to get to,” she told him
sharply.

“That’s it?” Kyan called after her as she
walked away. “You won’t even consider helping me out?”

CHAPTER 29

The game had been close, too close for JJ’s
liking, but the Sampson Lady Yellow Jackets were able to pull out a
win against a formidable rival. Queenie had played superbly,
according to Coach Cook, and finished the night with an admirable
sixteen points. JJ had played well, too, well enough to redeem
herself in Coach’s eyes by turning in eight assists and scoring
twelve points.

“Now that’s the JJ I know and love,” Coach
Cook said after the end of the game. “That’s the JJ I need to run
this offense for the rest of the season.” And so it was official.
JJ had secured her starting position.

The team stood in a circle in the middle of
the locker room as Coach Cook rambled on about the game.

“We’ve still got a lot to work on, ladies.
But I’m pleased with what I saw out on the floor tonight. You not
only played with skill, but you also played with heart. And heart
is what we need—”

JJ’s mind drifted as she pretended to listen
to what Coach Cook was saying. After the game, as she was making
her way to the locker room, laughing and relishing the win with her
teammates, she’d noticed an unusual face in the crowd. Their eyes
met for only a moment before JJ had to look away. She was glad she
hadn’t noticed her during the game because then she would have been
distracted, she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate, and maybe
she wouldn’t have been able to play as well as she had. But now
that she’d seen her in the stands, she couldn’t help but wonder
what in the world THE Kendal McCarthy was doing there. They hadn’t
spoken since Kendal had stood JJ up. They hadn’t even as much as
made eye contact. There was no apology, whether by text or by
phone. So JJ figured their friendship, or whatever it was, was
over.

“Now I want you to enjoy the win for tonight.
But tomorrow we start with a clean record once again. Tomorrow we
get back to the basics and we start preparing for our next game
against William and Mary.”

Coach Cook threw her hand into the center of
the circle. Everyone else followed suit. “Great team effort
tonight, ladies. Great team effort. I want team on three! One, two,
three!”