Page 65 of The Way I Used to Be
“Yeah, okay, Mom,” he answers.
“Call if you need anything. We’ll be home early,” she says, and I swear she looks at me when she says it, like maybe she knows, like everyone across at least two school districts knows, I’mthat girl.
“Bye,” he tells her, Steve chiming in.
“Have fun,” Mara calls to them.
I hear the front door close and lock. I exhale too loudly. They all look at me. “Any chance there’s anything to drink around here?”
Cameron pushes a can of ginger ale toward me.
I look at Mara—You’ve gotta be kidding me, right?
“Edy, come on,” she giggles, “we really do have to study here.”
“In that case, I’m gonna need a cigarette, at least,” I tell them, standing up.
“You have to go outside,” Cameron tells me quickly.
“I was going to, don’t worry.” I roll my eyes at him as I put my coat on.
The backyard is so impeccably landscaped and orderly, I’m afraid to move my feet because I’ll make too many shoe prints in their flawless white snow. I light my cigarette and try to make it last as long as possible. I never did ask Mara what she said to Alex about us not showing up tonight. I don’t mind too much anyway. I don’t really want to see Troy again. Especially not after our altered-state sweet and slow make-out session in Mara’s car. Especially because I still can’t really put all the pieces back together to figure out how that night ended. I close my eyes and try once again, but it doesn’t happen. What I see instead is Caelin, the next day, standing over me in my bedroom, grilling me. His angry voice still echoing through me: “... fucked up, Eden... not okay... not cool... are you listening... you could get seriously hurt... in serious trouble... why are you laughing... this is not funny... are you listening to me—”
“Eden?”
I turn my head. My cigarette has burned all the way down, the ashes still holding its shape. Steve is standing there. “What?” I answer.
“Um, hey. I brought you your phone; it keeps going off, so...” He stops midsentence, extending his arm all the way to hand me my phone, keeping us an arm’s length apart.
“Thanks.” I take the phone from him. Then he stands there and puts his hands in his pockets. I light another cigarette. A series of texts from Troy are still visible on the screen in reverse order:
are you mad at me?
I want to see you....
hey, pretty girl, it’s been a while. are you coming tonight?
I look over at Steve, looking down at his sneakers. He obviously saw the texts. I put my phone in my pocket without responding. “Want one?” I ask him, holding the pack of cigarettes toward him.
“No,” he says, holding up his hand, “but thanks, I guess.” He tries to smile. I can’t quite tell what he’s all about these days. He wears some kind of comic-book-superhero-type T-shirt over a long-sleeved thermal. His hair is just slightly unkempt, but his eyes are bright and clear and focused, not at all like Troy’s, or any of the guys I’ve been around recently.
“Do you not like me or something?” I finally ask.
“No. I thought it was the other way around?” He looks me straight in the eye; he’s bolder than I remember.
“Why would I not like you?” I ask, instead of answering him.
“I have no idea,” he says, crossing his arms. “Why do you not like me?”
“I never said that,” I tell him. “I don’t not like you.”
He nods his head and looks up at the sky. He opens his mouth to say something, but Cameron opens the screen door, interrupting us, yelling impatiently, “Okay, really, it’s time to start studying this shit! Seriously.” Then he pops his head back inside and slams the door.
“All right.” Steve laughs. “I guess it’s time to start studying this shit,” he echoes, gently mocking Cameron, like maybe I’m not such an outsider after all. I stub my cigarette out and follow him inside.
Senior Year
I’VE BEEN WITH FIFTEENdifferent guys—sometimes it seems like too many, other times it seems like not nearly enough. But each one takes me just a little farther away. I’m so far gone now, sometimes I feel like maybe it’s almost enough. Because, honestly, there isn’t the slightest trace left of that frizzy-haired, freckle-faced, clarinet-playing, scared-silent little girl. And her big secret is really not such a huge deal anymore. It was all so long ago now, it practically never even happened.
