Twelve Steps to Normal(41)

With ten minutes of class left, Jay draws up another hangman board. On the top he writes NAMES.

I guess O, I, E, T, S, D, and A before I finally lose. Right before the bell rings, Jay fills the rest of the blanks in for me: Kira Kay.

I don’t realize I’m smiling until Jay looks at me. I try not to read into it, but how can I not? That was his old nickname for me. The nickname he gave me when we were going out. But we are not going out anymore. So why would he write that?

The bell rings. It seems to jolt Jay from his thoughts, and he slams his notebook shut with more force than necessary. He doesn’t look my way once as he gathers up his things and leaves the classroom.





I run into Whitney as I’m walking to my car after Wavettes practice.

“Oh!” she says, after nearly colliding with me as she cuts through a row of cars. I’d gone to the locker room to change into my purple boatneck top and jeans, but she’s still wearing her red Wavettes tank top and black dance pants. I thought she’d left by now, but maybe she stayed after to talk to Jay. “Um. Sorry.”

It’s the first time we’ve been alone together since making posters at Raegan’s house. She looks distracted, like she’d rather be anywhere else. I think back to my twelve steps. I know I have to try to make amends for the both of us, and I know it won’t be easy. She’s made that much perfectly clear. But I have to keep trying for the sake of our friendship.

“Hey, so,” I start. “I was thinking, do you maybe want to hit up the mall before Breck’s thing on Saturday?”

Cedarville’s mall is nothing spectacular, but when we were in middle school we spent way too much time there. We’d split an overpriced cone from H?agen-Dazs and spend the rest of the time wandering in and out of stores only to end up watching guys from the high school at the indoor skate park.

“My mom’s making me go to my grandpa’s birthday brunch,” she says.

Disappointment drapes over me. “Oh, well—”

She looks toward her car. “I should get home.”

“Okay.” I give her a small wave as she begins to head in that direction. “See you.”

Just like that, I am dismissed. It hurts more than I want it to.

I’d told Lin what happened in Raegan’s kitchen on Saturday, and she’d told me to give her time. But a part of me was angry. I know I’d been unresponsive, but she wasn’t exactly Miss Communicative when she started dating Jay.

I’m walking to my car when I pass Alex’s beat-up Chevy. My insides twist with guilt. Alex has three more detentions to complete for what he wrote on the board. If I hadn’t choked during Radical Races, he probably wouldn’t have done it.

I stare at his dented bumper. The green paint is fading from sun damage, and the door to the bed of the truck is completely missing. It’s easy to tell that this car has been loved for a long time. He’s not even embarrassed by it. I watched him pull into the parking lot yesterday morning with the windows rolled down.

With nothing but homework to do, I jump into my car and drive to 7-Eleven. I’m in the mood for a Slurpee, and since the summer days are dwindling down to fall, I decide to take advantage of it one more time.

I walk to the back and pour myself a cherry slush. As I make my way toward the register, I pause at the candy aisle. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I pick up a pack of my favorite candy, Starburst, the tropical kind. I used to carry a handful in my backpack in eighth grade, and Alex and I would use the discarded wrappers to write notes to each other during class. He even taught me how to make a bracelet out of the wrappers, learned courtesy of Marlina’s crafty side. His was red and mine was yellow.

I pay for my sugary loot and head out the door.

When I’m back in the car, I make a right instead of a left and drive back to the school parking lot. Alex’s car is still there. Good. I pull into the empty space beside him and fumble for a Sharpie in my book bag. On the candy packaging I write, From my refined taste buds, to yours.

I hop out of my car and slide the stick of Starburst under his windshield wiper. I don’t leave my signature. I have a feeling he’ll know who they’re from.





FIFTEEN


WEDNESDAY ROLLS AROUND, AND EVEN though it’s almost officially fall, the weather is still a swampy eighty degrees. That doesn’t stop most freshmen from wearing cozy sweaters and riding boots—as if they aren’t a walking sweatbox.

I feel proud about one thing in particular, though. After a long conversation with Lin, she decided to give Breck a chance on the decathlon team.

“If he misses even one practice or does anything to ruin our chance at state,” she told me in the parking lot before school, “I will bake him a cake filled with laxatives.”

I let Breck know his bowels are on the line, but he swears his basketball schedule won’t conflict.

I end up giving Nonnie back her Queen CD later that evening. She’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the comics from Sunday’s paper. Her hair is wrapped in giant curlers and she’s wearing an embroidered gown with bright-red flowers. I know Freddie Mercury is her savior, but he’s not mine.

With Saylor now working night shifts at 7-Eleven, Nonnie volunteering at the shelter, and my dad working late, our schedules aren’t aligned anymore—which means I haven’t been subjected to more uncomfortable dinners where everyone compliments Peach’s cooking and pretends like this entire situation is completely normal.