Twelve Steps to Normal(19)
“How’re all your friends doing?” my dad asks. “I bet it was nice to see them.”
I sloppily drop forks on each napkin. “They’re fine.”
“You’re welcome to have Jay over for dinner anytime.”
I freeze at the mention of Jay. Did his brain jump in a time machine and forget to bring along the rest of us? I didn’t talk to my dad much after the intersection incident, but I assumed he knew that leaving behind Cedarville also meant leaving behind Jay. It wasn’t like I was gone for a few days. I was gone for almost an entire year.
I slam the last fork in place on the table. “We’re not going out anymore.”
“Is Jay short for Jason?” Nonnie asks, still staring at the screen.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
“Oh, Goose, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Well,” I say, desperately not wanting to talk about this anymore. “Now you do.”
Peach slides the tray of garlic bread into the oven. “Boys care more about food than feelings, anyway. Best not to waste your time with them at this age.”
I feel my defenses rise. I didn’t ask for her advice. Besides, she doesn’t know anything about my relationship with Jay.
“I have homework,” is all I say before darting upstairs.
But I don’t get any homework done. Instead I lie on my bed and think about Jay and Whitney because apparently I’ve turned into a masochist. I can’t get rid of the mental image of her hand on his arm at lunch, and I’m tortured by the thought of them kissing. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over this, so I send a text to Lin.
ME: how serious are they?
LIN: Who?
ME: jay and whit
LIN: Oh. Maybe 3 months? It happened over summer.
Three months is definitely enough time to get past first base with the possibility of second.
WHY am I TORTURING myself with this?
ME: oh.
LIN: Kira…
ME: i know. it’s fine. i’m fine.
LIN: It IS a little weird, but you know how fickle she can be with guys. Just ride it out. I doubt it’s going to last forever, you know?
Ride it out. Like I’m riding out this whole Sober Living strangers thing because of my dad. But Lin does have a point. Whitney’s known for quickly losing interest in guys and moving on to the next. So if it’s just another thing I have to ride out, I can pretend I’m okay with it. It shouldn’t be too hard.
Right?
I decide a subject change is necessary.
ME: what’s up with breck wanting to join decathlon?
LIN: Valerie Martinez is on the team and I’m pretty certain he has a thing for her
While it’s not implausible for Breck to want to go out of his way to impress a girl, the time and studying commitment seems like a lot. Even for him.
LIN: BUT… ugh, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but he texted me a picture of his transcript and he wasn’t lying. His GPA would make him a perfect Scholastic student for the slot we have open.
ME: you could give him the chance?
She fires back with a string of stressed-out and eye-rolling emojis.
Dad calls me down for dinner. I’m too hungry to make a valid excuse for skipping, so I trudge back downstairs.
“That’s just ironic,” Peach is saying as I reappear in our dining room. She’s occupying Grams’s usual seat, which is weird, but I doubt she’s aware of it.
Saylor nods across from her. “More ironic than the Mall of America being owned by Canadians, which I told him—”
“You told the president of this company that his new mascot is ironic?” Peach interrupts, shocked.
Nonnie laughs, her gray curls shaking as she does. “While you were at it, did you alert him if his toupee was crooked?”
Saylor does not find this funny. I notice that he’s swapped his ribbed yoga tank and sweats for a clean yoga tank and sweats. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what he wore to the interview.
“If they wanted to hire me to rebrand the company, then they need to know that placing a chicken mascot on a vegetarian product makes no sense.”
My dad brings the bowl of spaghetti into the dining room, and I slide into the only empty chair, across from him. “Saylor was going to OSU for graphic design,” he tells me. “A company wants to bring someone aboard who could help out with its new redesign.”
I heap a pile of spaghetti on my plate. I don’t know why he’s trying so hard to involve me in their lives when they aren’t going to be here long.
Saylor is still adamant about his case. “On what planet is it okay to put a chicken on a vegetarian patty box?”
Nonnie reaches for the noodles once I’m done. “Maybe it was a metaphor?”
“Consumers don’t tend to have deep, metaphorical thoughts when walking down the frozen food aisle.”
“Unless they’ve been smoking the Mary Jane,” Nonnie points out.
Peach leaps in to quickly get the conversation back on track. “So the interview was a bust?”
“Basically,” Saylor replies, looking down at the leather and beaded bracelets on his arms. There are so many that they practically reach his elbows.
“Hey,” my dad says in his best rally-the-troops voice. “You still have an SS today. You were offered the interview in the first place.”