J A C O B
Kylie sat next to me in class. I was having a bad day, and a bad week, and a bad month really, so this was good. Finally. Something good. She was wearing leather and dark red lipstick that matched her nail polish. I had only had the energy to put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, but I showed her my best smirk.
"What gives me the pleasure?"
She smirked back, "Your audacity."
"What did I do this time?"
She opened her notebook to show her multicolored notes. I had forgotten to get mine from my locker. I didn't care.
She said, "Skylar Clark."
"I didn't know who that is." I really didn't.
"Your partner for the Spanish presentation next week."
"Oh," I remembered. "Well, I didn't do that yet. Why? Are you jealous?"
"Not at all," she said. "She's very pretty."
"I don't believe you," I said. Girls like Kylie made everything a competition. Of course she was jealous. "But don't worry. She's not my type."
"Then what's the angle?"
"What makes you think there's an angle?"
"There's always an angle with you," she said, and she was right.
"Careful, you're gonna hurt my feelings." She just looked at me. I pointed at the quiz she had folded in half and stuck between the pages of the Precalculus textbook. "What did you get?"
"You're changing the conversation."
"I'm not," I said. "I had an F. I had an F on that Spanish quiz we took the other week too. I can't have another F."
"So you're gonna use her to get an A?"
The teacher walked in. I smiled at her. She smiled back at me. Would these exchanges give me some extra credit in the end? I had no idea, but it was worth a try. I turned to Kylie again.
"Of course I'm gonna use her. Isn't she the school's valedictorian? Who wouldn't?" I said, like it was obvious. "You know, the twins had a group project with her once, and they said she did the whole thing herself, and left their names out. They've been spray painting her locker ever since. I need my name on that fucking project, so if I have to call her pretty a couple of times, I will."
"So you're a slut?" she said, a smile on her lips.
I laughed. When the teacher turned around from the board to look at me, I showed her an apologetic smile, and pretended I was copying whatever it was she was writing on the board down to my notebook. Next to me, Kylie was actually doing it, her lips still a tease. The teacher opened her mouth to say something but closed it again when Tristan walked into the classroom.
"I know I'm late," he said without apologizing, instead walking to the seats by the window to take the one next to a girl in an ugly sweater. She seemed surprised he was sitting next to her.
"Next time don't be," the teacher said, closing the door he had left wide open. I lost interest in whatever he said next and turned to Kylie again.
"What are you doing after school?"
She looked up from her notes, "Not you."
"You're breaking my heart."
"What happened between you and Edward?"
"I broke our friendship bracelet. It was an accident. He thinks I did it on purpose. Who cares? Come to mine after school. My parents aren't home." My parents were never home.
She smiled and said, "No."
"Why not?"
"I'm going shopping."
"Take me with you."
"Shopping?"
"Yeah, I love shopping."
"Fine." She shrugged. "On one condition."
"What?"
"Play nice with Skylar."
I wanted to laugh but didn't, "Are you sure you're not jealous?"
"Pretty sure," she said. "What I mean is, do your part of the project. Don't just expect her to do the whole thing herself."
"Since when do you care about this girl? I don't understand." I had never seen them together at school before, but then again, I had never really known who Skylar was. I had known about the school's valedictorian and what the twins said about her, but I had never actually learned her name or matched her to a face up until today.
"Well, you don't really know me, do you?"
"I'm trying to."
The teacher stopped right in front of our desk, and asked, "So, who can tell me the answer?"
I didn't know what the question was, but in any case, I didn't have to.
"Zoey does," Tristan said before anyone else could. I looked back at him. He was pointing at the girl in the ugly sweater, whose face was going red.
"I don't," she said.
"Yes, you do," Tristan insisted. "I just explained it to you."
"Why don't you explain it to the class then, Tristan?" the teacher asked.
He frowned, "I'm not doing that."
"Zoey, what about you?" Zoey's whole face was red, so the teacher felt it was better to add, "You know class participation counts for your final grade, right?"
Zoey opened her mouth. I stopped paying attention. Kylie was smiling at me.
"So," she said. "Do we have a deal?"
I smiled back, "We do."
We had been shopping for hours. I thought she was trying to make a point, having me follow her around every store in the mall, carrying all of her bags with a smile on my face. I didn't care. I really did love shopping, and perhaps even more than that, I loved having her putting on outfits for me, spinning around in whatever I said she would look good in, not even looking at the mirror after, but at me, because she didn't care about whether or not she liked how she looked, but about whether or not I did. For hours, all we really did was pretend. I pretended I didn't want to tell her she looked good in everything, and she pretended she didn't want me to say it.
We were coming out of the last store when I decided to put an end it.
"I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat."
"Where should we go?"
"Some pizza place?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't do fast food."
I rolled my eyes, "Of course you don't."
"Fuck you."
"What? I get it," I said. "You can't look like that and eat fast food. Still, I doubt half a pizza will do anything â"
"They have sushi here, right?"
I scratched the back of my head, "I think so."
We went for sushi. I told her I was paying, and she said obviously, and ordered for the both of us. I watched her do it. She smiled at the waitress, and said thank you in the end, and then turned to me, with a smile bigger than the one she had on while we were shopping, her red lipstick still perfect on her lips.
"You don't understand," she started. "I am obsessed with sushi. My cleaning lady is from Kyoto, and she makes the best sushi ever. When I was a kid, I used to follow her around while she made it, grabbing whatever I could, and just shoving it in my mouth. Lydia hated it."
"Who's Lydia?"
"My mother."
"And she doesn't like you eating sushi?"
"She doesn't like me eating anything." She laughed. "She gets stressed out every time I open the fridge. It's hilarious."
"She would like my father," I said. "When I was kid and I started getting a little chubby, he started taking me along with him on his runs. Every day, he had me run so much, I was throwing up by the end of it."
I usually also cried but I wasn't about to tell her that.
"Do you still go on runs together?" she asked.
"He's got arthritis or something now. He doesn't run anymore. I go by myself."
"Do you still throw up because of it?"
"What do you think?" I asked her.
She smiled and shrugged. Our order came. She thanked the waitress again. We dug in, her better than me, chopsticks in hand, looking as good as any of the accessories she had tried on just minutes ago. Her red lipstick started to disappear, leaving behind just a faint blush of color.
"So, I guess it's my turn to ask," I started. "What's your angle?"
"My angle?" She laughed.
"Yes, your angle," I said. "This weekend, at my party, you barely even spoke to me at all. What's your angle? You want me to beg? Is that it?"
"Beg for what?"
"For you."
She shrugged, "What if I do?"
I smiled, "I will, if you will. We're the same, you and I, you know? You want my approval of you, and I want your approval of me. That's all we ever want of people, isn't it? That's all we were ever taught to want."
She put her chopsticks down, and said, "You don't think that's sad?"
"It's what it is."
Later that night, I carried her bags to her car. We had parked next to each other. She opened the trunk of her Mercedes. I put the bags inside.
I asked if her parents were home. She said no.
I smiled, "I told you we were the same."
She didn't smile back, instead she closed the trunk of her car, and turned around at me. The neon lights of the parking lot reflected on the concrete and so did the full moon above us. We were standing very close. She had retouched her lipstick while I had paid the bill.
She said, "Beg."
I did, "Can I please kiss you?"
She smiled, finally. Like all other things, the smile looked remarkably good on her. I took a step closer, she put her hand on my chest, I put mine on her cheek.
She said, "No."
I didn't move, "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I moved away. She moved for the door to the front seat and then got inside. I watched her start the car and drive away. For a while, all I did was stand there in the cold. By the time I finally got in my car, I was freezing. Edward's favorite song was on, the soundtrack to some show he liked, just instrumentals. I had called him gay for it, but I turned the sound all the way up this time. Then I hit the gas, went past the speed limit, probably ran a few red lights too. I didn't care. There was no one in the car with me.