Watch Me Disappear (20 page)

Sometimes I hate Missy’s unfailing honesty. Why does she always have to say everything that is on her mind? Can’t some things go unspoken? “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “My only thing is that you’ve been saying for months that you had no interest in Paul. I don’t think you should rush into anything when you and Wes just broke up.”

“Yeah, you might be right.”

“Paul has been adoring you for months, so if this is just a rebound, you’re going to end up breaking his heart. And you’re both my friends, too, so that would suck.” I want to say, “He just wants to have sex with you,” but I like Paul too much to want to paint that picture of him. Besides, if I did say that, Missy would just go tell Paul that I said it, assuming that he had said something similar to me. That’s Missy. I also want to tell her that he kissed me first, but how can I? And what would be the point?

“I’m not rushing though,” Missy says. “I mean, we’re not officially dating or anything.”

“Well that’s good. Just take it easy.”

“Lizzie, you are the best. I mean it, best friends,” she says.

Best friends? Like BFF? Friends forever? I have always wanted a friend who passed me notes in class signed “BFF.” It sounds nice. But I can’t be as honest with Missy as she is with me. I haven’t been telling her the whole truth for a while, really.

*          *          *

I have to miss school for a last-minute college visit today. My mother is in a panic that I am applying to too many reach schools, and she decided that the best thing I can do is some interviews, which are technically optional, to boost my chances. If we are willing to make long distance drives to have interviews in person, that will show how serious I am, she thinks. We are up at the crack of dawn to drive up to Middlebury. We’re going there first, as that is my first choice, and then on the drive home we’ll go to Williams and then Amherst. It is going to be a very long day.

“You’re so lucky,” Maura said when I told her she didn’t need to pick me up for school. “I’d love to skip a day of classes to go anywhere. School is such a drag these days.”

Every time I look at the clock on the dashboard, all I can think about is what class I am supposed to be in. I got my assignments in advance, so I do homework while my mom drives. At least it is a beautiful day, more like late October than the first week of December. When we get to Middlebury, we walk around and get a sandwich for lunch. I love the campus. Just being there, even with my anxious mother at my side, makes me feel totally at ease. If I get in, everything will be all right. I’ll make it through the next few months and then I’ll be home free—no worries about Paul or Missy or Maura. Another fresh start, only I’ll be a lot wiser this time. But of course, I have to get in first.

My interview does not leave me feeling confident. The questions are not what I was expecting, and I am afraid I seem simplistic and uninteresting. They ask me questions like “What’s the best costume you’ve ever worn?” and “What’s your favorite website?” I was prepared to tell them about my academic accomplishments and what I did at school. Basically I thought I was there to put a face to the application. Apparently, however, they want to find out if candidates are spunky enough. I meet all their admissions requirements; do I have to be unique, too?

I am better prepared for Williams and Amherst, knowing to expect personality and character questions. The questions at Amherst are more analytic, which puts me at ease, but Amherst isn’t high on my list. Maybe if it were farther from home and farther from UMass where so many of my classmates plan to end up.

My mother insisted I keep my cell phone off all day, so when we get home, the first thing I do is go up to my room and turn it on. Missy had called and she was upset. Oddly enough, Maura had also left me a message.

I have had a long enough day that I’m not quite ready to help Missy solve her problems, so I call Maura first.

“You haven’t talked to Missy or Paul today, have you?” she asks, when I ask what’s up. “They are officially together.”

“Paul and Missy?”

“No, Brad and Angelina.”

“Missy said she was going to take things slow,” I say.

“Well, as of last night, they’ve both changed their Facebook statuses.”

“Wow.” Neither mentioned that to me.

“It’s just insane, you know? What the hell does he see in her?” Maura asks.

“Come on, Maura,” I say. “You’ve got to admit she’s pretty.”

“Yeah, until she opens her mouth.”

I’m not sure if Maura is referring to Missy’s braces, her voice, her nonstop chatter, or all of the above.

“You must be pretty pissed,” Maura says, catching me off guard.

“They’re my friends. Why should I be pissed?”

“They were your friends. What do they need you for now?”

It’s a mean thing for her to say, but I already believed it before she said it. Still, I can’t admit that to her. “That’s ridiculous,” I say.

“Is it? You think Paul’s going to need you to tutor him in math now that he has Missy? You think Missy is going to care if you’re home alone on Friday night when she’s out with Paul?”

“I don’t know, Maura, but I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it. So I’m giving you a ride tomorrow, right?”

“Same as always.”

“Good. We’ll talk more then.”

I call Missy back as soon as she hangs up.

“They threw dog treats at me!” she says when I ask what happened. “They put a bag of dog food at my locker and threw it at me in the hallway! They were
barking
at me!”

“They” are Jessica and Katherine. Interesting how Maura left that part out of her account.

“What did I ever do to them?” she asks.

“They were defending the queen,” I say.

“Huh?”

“Maura. They were doing her evil bidding.” I say.

“Where does she get off?”

“Look, Missy, obviously what they did was wrong, but as far as they’re concerned, you got the prize. Maura will cool off in a few days and it’ll all blow over,” I say, but I’m not sure I believe it.

“Do you really think so?”

“Do you really think the teachers are going to let people pelt you with milk bones every day?”

“It’s not like they’re paying attention,” she says. “They certainly didn’t seem to notice today.”

“Maybe you should take a break from Facebook,” I say.

“I’m not going to let them bully me. If they don’t like what I post, they don’t have to read it.”

“Well, what do you want me to do then?”

“Nothing, whatever. I just thought you’d be sympathetic. I really wished you were at school today. I never see Paul all day. It was like I was just all by myself. I think Wes and some of his friends joined in the barking.”

I have a hard time picturing myself standing up for Missy even if I had been there. I remember the way she came to my side at the battle of the bands, not afraid to put herself in the middle of things. I’m not like that. What would I have done if I had been at school? Maybe just walking through the hall with her would have been enough to deter them. A girl all by herself is an easy target. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve had a crazy day, too.”

Missy suddenly remembers that I have been on college visits, and she cheers right up and begins bombarding me with questions about the day. When we get off the phone, I can’t help but resent how nice Missy is, how easily she forgives my flaws, and even on such a bad day, takes time to ask me about
my
day. She is too perfect, which I know is an absurd criticism, a terrible reason to be angry with someone, but that’s how I feel. I want to call Paul, but I can’t bring myself to dial his number.

*          *          *

In the morning I ask Maura about Jessica and Katherine’s campaign against Missy. She laughs. “They are too hilarious,” she says.

“Yeah but it’s pretty mean.”

“Sticks and stones,” Maura says, as if that answers for everything. “Anyway, like I said before, he’s going to get sick of her pretty fast. Either he’ll get tired of waiting for her to break her virginal ways or he’ll screw her and be done with her.”

“I just don’t see the point in your torturing her,” I say quietly.

“I’m not. I can’t control Katherine and Jessica, though.”

“Right.”

“Hey, I’m telling you, now that they’re together, they’re not going to find much time for you. You might as well cut your losses. You’re always welcome to hang out with me, though. We had our rocky start, but I’m here for you, Lizzie,” she says.

When we go into school, Paul is waiting at my locker. “Hear the good news?” he asks.

“Yep, you don’t need me anymore,” I say.

“Lizzie,” he says, clasping his hands in front of his heart, “I’m hurt.” His eyes twinkle and he smirks. “As long as your mom is willing to feed me, I’ll always need you.”

“Missy’s mom’s a better cook,” I say, shutting my locker and taking off down the hall.

He keeps pace with me.

“No, seriously,” he says. “Maybe I started talking to you to get in good with Missy, but we’re way past that now. We’re friends. You’re like one of the guys.”

The look on my face must tell him that was the wrong thing to say.

“Only better,” he continues in a rush. “None of the guys is half the conversationalist you are.” He flashes me his winning smile. Sometimes his belief that he can charm his way out of any situation is infuriating.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” I say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now that you and Missy have each other, we’ll see if you still need little Lizzie.”

“Well I already know how that’s going to work out.”

“Oh yeah? You want to come over tonight?” I ask.

His face turns red.

“Or are you going to Missy’s?”

“You can come, too,” he says.

“I had enough of being the third wheel with Missy and Wes.”

“All right, but I’ll come to your house Sunday,” he says. “We can do our homework.”

“Swell,” I say, turning into my first period class. I am so angry when I sit down that I don’t hear a word the teacher says for the first half of class.

*          *          *

That night when my phone rings I am surprised to see it’s not Missy or Paul, but Maura. She calls to say “I told you so.”

“But listen, tomorrow’s Friday,” she says. “Why don’t you come to the play and then come out to the cast party after. It’ll be great. You can sit with me and then we’ll all go out together.” She tells me Jessica and Katherine have leading roles and she is in charge of makeup.

I’m not sure, but Maura insists it will be fun, certainly better than staying home, so I agree. After the post-semi party, my parents are hesitant to let me stay out again. They don’t think it’s responsible to “stay up all night.” This time it’s Mrs. Morgan to the rescue—Jessica and Katherine can’t stay out too late with another show the next day, so she promises my parents she will make sure we are in bed by midnight. Why my mother believes Mrs. Morgan will enforce any rules is beyond me. Maybe it is just the knowledge that I’ll be next door that reassures her, or the fact that the next day is Saturday and both of my parents will be home so they can prevent me from sleeping all day.

The play is
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
. Katherine is Domina, Senex’s shrill wife, and Jessica is one of the Geminae. I wonder if either of them realize how easily they’ve been typecast. Still, it is entertaining. Even Katherine drops her haughty manner a few times during particularly well executed comedic moments.

At the cast party, Maura and I have to continually explain our presence to cast members’ parents. The best part about the party is we don’t stay long. We’ve barely been there an hour when Maura announces it’s time to go. It’s time for “real fun.”

Maura rides shotgun, calling out directions to Katherine, tonight’s driver, into a part of town I’ve never been to before. The house sits at the top of a very steep hill and is small and narrow with a little rectangle of front lawn enclosed in a chain-link fence. It is squeezed in on either side by other houses that look almost identical to it. Most houses don’t have driveways so the street is crowded with cars, some double parked. Everything looks neglected. That it is December—all the trees stripped of their leaves and no snow yet on the ground to beautify everything—probably doesn’t help my impression any, but I’m nervous about leaving Katherine's nice car parked there. If I were her, I’d be turning around instead of squeezing in between a beat-up Explorer and an old Chevy. When we get out of the car, a dog barks and we all freeze until we hear its chain clink.

“Stop being babies,” Maura says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and leading us up to the house.

The reason for my invitation is immediately apparent when we walk inside: I am here to even out the numbers. Jason and three of his tough-looking pals are sprawled out in the living room watching a boxing match on pay-per-view.

“Beer’s in the fridge,” Jason says, not getting up or greeting us. “Bring me one, would ya?” He’s wearing sweatpants and a wife-beater—this is apparently his uniform—and he is stretched out on the couch with one hand tucked into the waist of his pants. He tips his head back, finishes the beer in his hand, burps, and tosses the can across the room toward the empty 30-pack box. He misses.

Jason’s mom is sitting at the kitchen table smoking and doing a word-search puzzle. She looks up at us as we come in. “Good luck with that bunch,” she says, nodding toward the living room. “They’ve been in there burping and farting all night.” She squints through her cigarette smoke.

Maura hands Jessica and me each a beer and gives Katherine a bottle of water.

“Go on and have a beer, honey,” Jason’s mom says.

Katherine gives her a beauty pageant smile. “I’m driving.”

“Good for you, honey,” she says. “Toss me one.”

Maura hands her one and takes another for Jason.

“Bathroom’s over there if anyone needs it,” she says, pointing down the hall. “And if you smoke, use an ashtray.” She coughs and her frail body shakes. She is a walking anti-smoking campaign.