Freshman Year Page 11

“Yeah, thanks.” My voice cracks. Why does she have to be so nice to me? “I’ll see you later,” I manage to say, as tears roll down my face again.

  “Amara, Amara, Amara.” She whispers and gently takes my chin in her hand, moving my head up so I can see her when she speaks. “It’s just gossip. Chismes. That’s all. It’ll blow over. Next week they’ll be tearing up someone else. That’s how it works around here.”

  Even though her soft vanilla-lotion-scented touch is making me feel so much better, I lean back against the metal lockers when I remember why I can’t let myself do whatever it is we are doing.

  “Entiendes, Amara?” Keeta says softly.

  “Yeah, I understand, but you don’t get it. Even my friends believe it.” I hate myself for letting her see me like this. I always look hideous and puffy after crying, so I’m glad it’s dark.

  She kneels in front of me. “No te preocupes, Amara. Really, don’t worry. It will get better, and hey, I do understand. Believe me.” Her hair falls forward and slides across my knee. It feels cool and soft like silk against my skin. And it’s just like Garrett described to me that day in the gym. All I want is Keeta’s touch, all her attention on me.

  But I can’t have it. I promised I’d be loyal to Stef. I know firsthand now what it feels like to have crappy friends. Plus, I don’t want them to be right. I just need to ignore these feelings, and then (eventually?) they’ll go away.

  I brush her hair off my leg. “Keeta, what are you doing here? I mean, you can’t do this. I’m Stef’s friend. We can’t act like this. You’re just…”

  “Just what, Amara?”

  Just making me feel like I’m special and beautiful and happy. “You’re just confusing me.” I look back at the wall. “Please, just leave me alone.”

  “How am I confusing you?” Her breath grazes my neck and sends a shiver down my back. “Dime. Come on. Tell me, Amara.”

  What am I supposed to say? I mean, she obviously likes or, I should say, loves Stef, since they are back together again. And even so, there was that love letter Keeta wrote to someone who wasn’t Stef and I’m 99.9 percent sure it wasn’t to me.

  “Nothing,” I say. “It’s just that I don’t know what to say to you. I’m really…I don’t know. Besides, I’m not like you, Keeta.” I don’t know what I mean by that. Nothing’s making sense. “Just leave, okay?”

  She ignores my request, leans forward on her knees, and looks down at my ankle, which is now aching with pain. And then, as if she can read my mind, she picks up my foot and puts it in her lap. My lip starts to quiver again. All those nights I’ve wished for her warm touch, and here she finally is. And here I am, crying and being a total bitch.

  “Eternally beautiful,” she says, looking down at my swollen foot.

  I swallow down another round of tears. “You think my foot is beautiful?”

  She laughs and looks up at me. Even in the dim lighting, I can see a thousand pieces of gold scattered in Keeta’s eyes, like a treasure chest spilled open. And, just like always, the rest of the world disappears. No more padlock jamming in my back, no more throbbing in my foot, and no more confusion. “Amara. The apodo I chose for you that day at the mall. It’s Greek and it means eternally beautiful—like I’m sure you will be.” Then she takes my hand in hers, turns it over, and kisses my palm.

  The instant her lips touch my skin, electricity shoots through me, and the queasy feelings I’ve been having all year explode into something that no words in any thesaurus could describe. I’m being lifted away, far from Gila High, far from the smelly hallways, the mean cafeteria ladies, and the scary truths. I let myself briefly melt into this moment. This must be how floating on a cloud feels.

  Then there are footsteps and voices. I jump out of my dreamy state and open my eyes, which I don’t even remember closing.

  Keeta carefully puts my foot back on the ground, stands up, and looks over her shoulder to judge their distance. Then, still holding my hand, Keeta whispers the five words I secretly dreamed that I might hear: “That letter was for you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Yesterday my doctor finally cleared me for basketball practice. Now I’m in the mood to celebrate all sorts of things, so this morning I abandon my boring khaki shorts and hooded sweatshirt to put on black capris and a tight blue boob-shirt Kate made me buy on one of our summer trips to the Tucson Mall. And for that extra special touch? I wear my hair down instead of in a ponytail and spread some sparkly lip gloss on my lips.

  “Morning, Mom,” I say with more cheer than she’s heard in weeks.

  “Well, good morning,” she says, looking up from the paper and raising her eyebrows. I think she notices the new look but stops herself from making a big deal about it, which I appreciate.

  I kiss her good-bye and walk out to Jenn’s car before her second honk.

  “Wow, you actually look halfway decent. Way to go, Chunks,” Jenn says to me after I get settled in the passenger’s seat. Kate stopped riding with us the day after Derrick got his new Mustang, so it’s just me and Jenn from now until whenever. And because of Kate’s absence, Jenn and I have actually been becoming friends. Her almost-compliment is my proof.

  “Ahh, shucks,” I say. “I’m pretty sure that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Well, don’t get used to it or anything, okay dumbass?”

  “Okay, but the Eggies are on me today.”

  “Right on,” Jenn says and heads over to Rickey D’s.

  As we sit idling in line at the drive-through, Jenn lowers the volume on the radio, turns her body my way, and then looks—very serious-sister-like—at me.

  I look back at her, very scared and skittish-like. “What, Freak?”

  “Nothing.” She pulls up a little closer to the ordering screen.

  “Okay, whatever.” I’m used to her oddness by now, so I go back to pretending to read the billboards, though I’m actually wondering if Keeta will notice the smell of my fruity-scented lips or my new hairdo.

  “You know, Abbey,” Jenn finally says, “I’ve been playing basketball at Gila for four long years.”

  Information I do in fact already know. “Uh huh,” I say.

  “I’m just letting you know because…” She releases the brake to let her car coast up in line, but instead it dies. She uses her favorite swear words to command it back to life. On her third turn of the key, it finally obeys. “After all those years, you start to get a sense of people.”

  You know those instincts everyone is born with? Like running away when danger is near? Well, at this point I know I should flee like a gazelle galloping across an African prairie escaping the jaws of a hungry lioness, but I’m a moron lacking all natural instincts. “Yeah?” I say in my usual stupid way.

  “I’m just saying, Abbey, I know a lot of the girls on the team.” It’s finally our turn to order, so she shouts our usual into the speaker then slowly coasts forward. “I know a lot about what they’ve gone through, things they’ve experienced. It wasn’t always this easy to be yourself at Gila High. We’ve had to fight a lot of battles and we stick together. You know what I mean?”

  “I guess,” I say, trying hard to sound confused, but I know just what she means and who she means it about. And I know I’m lucky that I don’t go to school in some scary conservative hick town.

  “I’m telling you this because I want you to know if you need to talk, I’m here for you.” She smiles sweetly and pats my knee for the second time in her life. I wonder briefly if she smoked out in the basement before picking me up. “I mean, if you need someone, okay? I know it must be hard going through life without a fabulous older sister like me.”

  I check her pupils while she stares at me; they appear normal and she seems like she actually means it, so I let down my guard. “Does Kate know?”

  She pays with my money and hands me my Eggy breakfast sandwich. “Well, she suspects, but she’s convinced that there’s no way you would keep something this huge from her.”

&nbs
p; I have to force myself to swallow my first bite.

  “I mean, that’s what you told her when you guys made up from that weird lunch thing, that it wasn’t true. So what’s there to know, right?”

  I grip the door as if what I’m going to say next might cause Jenn to veer off the road and kill us both. “Well, maybe there is something to know. But what I don’t get is how everyone else can seem to know when I’m not even sure myself. I’ve never even…” I look out the window, embarrassed because I’ve said way too much. “I mean, I don’t know what I am, so why is it anyone else’s business and why is everyone talking about me?”

  She pulls onto Dodge Road, cutting off a carload of Gila High students who honk and flip us off. “Well, you’re always hanging out with Stef and Garrett, who are, like, the lesbian poster children of Gila. And some chick in my physics class said she saw you getting close with Stef in the varsity locker room, and that’s how that one got started. Dude, you might want to chill with the cuddling in the locker room if you don’t want people to talk.”

  “I was just consoling her,” I shoot back and throw my Eggy back in the bag. “That’s so stupid. I don’t think of Stef like that.”

  “I know, okay. I get it all the time. I never thought I’d have to prove my straightness as much as I do.”

  “But she’s just my friend. Can’t I just be friends with someone?”

  Jenn pulls into a spot in the back of the parking lot, and her car dies before she has a chance to turn it off. “Nice timing,” she says to it then turns to me. “Abbey, I don’t know why this stuff never gets old, but it doesn’t. You just have to decide what matters more to you. Do you care what everyone else thinks? If so, then quit the team and stop talking to Stef and Garrett. And if you don’t want things to get worse, stop crushing on Keeta. It’s that simple.”

  “Who says I like Keeta?” I can feel my face turning as red as ketchup.

  “That’s my point, kiddo. Whether it’s true or not, you have to decide if it matters because they’ll eventually find out or they’ll make it up. Just make sure you don’t let the people who care about you the most find out in the hall before you tell them yourself. That’s the kind of thing that can ruin a friendship.”

  I know she’s right. I have to face some truths. But I hope I have time to figure out exactly what they are before everyone else does.

  There’s a sudden increase of activity on campus, which means the bell’s rung and we have to wrap up our mini-therapy session. Jenn grabs her backpack and slams her door. “Laters, Abbey. And try to stay out of trouble.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll try.”

  *

  Garrett and Stef both called me last night, so they knew that I’d be able to practice today. That’s why, when I get to Spanish, there’s a cupcake on my desk decorated with little candy basketballs. I bite into it right away and thank Garrett. Stef’s not in class, again.

  “Hey, G,” I say in between bites, “we really need to get our act together in this class. I haven’t done any homework in, like, a week or two…okay, three.”

  She points at my new outfit and nods. “First of all, I like what you’ve got going on here.” Then to respond to my previous comment, Garrett makes a frowny face. “Yeah, I’m so behind.”

  “We’re screwed,” I say, then ask, “So, where’s your BFF?”

  “Hey, I have a plan to get us out of grade trouble in Español.”

  “I’m listening,” I say, aware she’s avoiding my question. “What’s your plan?”

  “It will unfortunately rely on you developing skills as a liar. So I’m feeling less than confident, but I think maybe you’ve changed. You up for it?”

  Finally, a chance to move up a rank or two in coolness levels. “Yep, I’m in.” I don’t ask about Stef again. Besides it’s obvious she’s with Keeta somewhere since Keeta never came to guitar class this morning. What a waste of my special outfit and flavored lips. “So, what do I have to do?”

  Garrett doesn’t get a chance to answer because Señora Cabrera starts class, already glaring in our direction. Twenty minutes pass, and I figure Garrett’s forgotten about the plan, but then a note gets dumped on my desk like a giant piece of doggie doo. The delivery is so obvious to everyone, especially Señora Cabrera, who scoops it up before I have a chance to react.

  “Well, well, well.” Señora Cabrera unfolds the note. “Let’s just see what you two have to say that is so important.”

  “No, Señora Cabrera! Por favor, no lo lea. We promise never to pass notes again,” Garrett begs, in an obviously overdramatic way, but Señora Cabrera doesn’t catch on.

  I sink as low as I can in my seat. What if the note says something about Keeta? If it does, I will drop out of school and become a cave dweller.

  I peek up at Señora Cabrera and it appears that the look of irritation has left her face now that she’s halfway through reading the letter to herself. She looks down at me, then at Garrett, and smiles slightly. “I’ll see you two after class,” Señora Cabrera says and actually gives the note back to me. And that’s when I know I’ve been right all along about Garrett. She is good at everything.

  After class, Señora Cabrera explains that she also lost her dad at a young age, and she totally understands why I’m so sad around the anniversary of my dad’s passing (which is not anywhere near today), and I’m lucky to have such a good friend who would give up so much of her time to help me through this “dark period.” Then she gives us both an extension on our late homework. She even says she’ll talk to Mr. Hughes, my social studies teacher, about the overdue project I’ve only halfway finished.

  I wait until we’re all the way down the hall before slapping Garrett’s arm. “Oh my God, G, where do you come up with this stuff? You’re freakin’ crazy.”

  “What can I say? My mom taught me well,” she brags. “Plus, my girl Tai listens in on every conversation she can while doing her duty as a student aide in the office. She could be CIA by the time she graduates, I swear. She’s the one who gave me the scoop on Señora Cabrera and the scoop on you.”

  “Wow, you two are a good team in a scary sort of way. I guess I better watch my back around you and Tai, huh?”

  “Yes, it’s true. My power knows no bounds!” Then she throws her head back and laughs insanely, “Muahahahaha!”

  Her laugh makes me laugh, too, which helps me get rid of the guilt growing in my gut. This is the first time I’ve ever used (or let someone else use) my dad’s accident to get away with something, but what Garrett said in that letter worked. Now, all we have to do is make up our homework and we’re golden again. It was definitely worth it because now, instead of worry, I feel something unfamiliar: happiness. And it’s all because of Garrett. She makes me feel like, I don’t know, like a regular teenager, not an unsure freshman or someone who has something to hide.

  But as soon as we see Stef leaning against my locker, her eyes bloodshot from crying, all fun comes to an abrupt stop.

  “Dude,” Garrett says and links Stef’s arm in hers, “it looks like we need an emergency girl-talk session in the bathroom.”

  After finally getting a sufficient amount of toilet paper from the one-square-at-a-time dispensers, Stef blows her nose and tells us what’s wrong. “I’m moving,” she says and then starts to cry again.

  Good thing Garrett is there to be concerned and upset because I’m too busy choking on a bit of relief and earning points in the Crappiest Friend of the Year contest that I am apparently participating in.

  “My stupid mom accepted a job transfer and we’re moving to Phoenix. She said it wasn’t because of anything related to me being, whatever, in love with a freaking girl, but come on. We all know what a bunch of bull that is.”

  “Damn,” Garrett says. “Well, at least it’s only like an hour and a half away.”

  “Then, of course, we had a big stupid fight last night, so I snuck out to Keeta’s and my mom came over there at like two in the morning to get me, and Keeta was so ticked of
f she started yelling at my mom. I thought she was going to punch a hole in the wall, but then Keeta’s grandma came out and calmed everyone down. I was so embarrassed. I hate my mom so much.” At this point, Stef kicks the metal trash can, which slides across the dirty linoleum and slams into the wall. “I’m so pissed! This whole thing is stupid!”

  “Hell yeah, it is,” Garrett says.

  Then it’s quiet and I know it’s my turn to say something, anything, so I say, “I can’t believe your mom would do that.”

  Garrett glances over at me, and I sense she’s using her powers to see through my friendly façade. Then the bell rings and saves my pathetic self. “Shoot, I have to go you guys. I can’t be late again.” I pick up my bag and move toward the door.

  “Dude, Abs, where’s the fire?” Garrett asks coolly.

  “You guys might not care about getting detention, but my mom will totally…” Then I realize I don’t know what she’ll do. I haven’t actually ever really gotten in trouble at school before. “Anyway, she’ll lose her mind.”

  “What class do you have next?” Garrett asks.

  “English with Mr. Davison,” I say quickly and peek out the bathroom door. The halls are clear, and in a matter of seconds, the supervisors are going to be sucking up meandering slackers like a Hoover vacuum and writing them up.

  “Relax, Abbey,” Garrett says. Then she takes a small pad of paper out of her backpack and starts to fill in the blanks.

  I lean in for a closer look and see it’s an official school hall pass. “How did you get ahold of those?” I’m definitely in awe and, if I had room in my manic head for it, I swear I could start to crush on her, too.

  “Oh, I’ve got my connections.”

  Stef laughs. “Yeah, like she’s sleeping with the fifth-period office aide.”

  “Man, you are so lucky,” I say and make a mental note to look into becoming an office aide next year.

  Garrett smirks and signs the pass. “I know you’re both jealous, but she’s mine.”

  “See, Abbey? Being a dyke has its advantages,” Stef says while putting on makeup to try to disguise her tear-streaked face. “Too bad you’ll never know the joys of dating girls. Just think, you could be me right now.”