Getting Over Garrett Delaney (14 page)

I laugh. “Anyway, thanks for thinking of me. This is fun.”

“Sure.” Kayla pauses. “I’ve thought about asking you to do stuff before, but I wasn’t sure… . I mean, you’re always off somewhere with Garrett.” She turns to me with an awkward smile. “I didn’t know if you would even want to hang.”

“Oh.” Thrown, I splash the water with my toes. “I never thought … I mean, you’re always with Blake.”

“Not always.” She rolls her eyes. “Not like you and Garrett. I swear, you guys are glued together.”

“Were,” I correct her quietly.

“Right.” She’s quiet for a moment. “So what changed? Did something happen with you guys, to make you want to move on?”

I shrug, tracing the rough wooden planks of the dock. “I guess I just woke up to something that was true all along. He doesn’t feel the same way about me, and no matter how much I hope, and wait … well, it’s not going to happen.”

Saying it out loud, to someone else, makes it truer somehow. Real. Done.

“That must have been tough.” Kayla’s voice is soft, and when I look over, there’s genuine sympathy on her face.

“Not nearly as tough as trying to do something about it,” I reply, rueful. “As you probably figured from my performance yesterday.”

“It’ll get easier,” Kayla reassures me, and suddenly I want so desperately for her to be right. Out here, in the bright sunshine, it seems like a new world: shiny and fresh, where maybe getting over him isn’t the insurmountable obstacle I’ve been thinking it is.

I return her smile. “I hope so.”

We’re silent for a moment, listening to the distant yells of kids playing and the murmurs of the Laurens deliberating about some star’s new hairstyle. I breathe slowly, feeling the sun seep all the way to my soul and the tension ease right out. This is what I needed, to be out, away from everything.

Kayla splashes the water some more. “So, this plan of yours … You start with avoiding him?”

“Yup. Detox. And then I have to start focusing on his flaws — to think about him as a regular person, and not Garrett,” I explain.

She smirks. “That should be easy. Don’t get me wrong,” she adds quickly, “I’m sorry you’re hurting, but, well … to be honest, I always thought he was kind of a jerk.”

My mouth drops open, and she hurries to explain. “I mean, he always acts like he’s so much better than everyone.”

“He does not!” I protest.

“Seriously?” She laughs, peeling off another strand of licorice. “Come on. I know he totally looks down on me, just because I don’t read all those stuffy books or watch boring foreign films.”

“That’s not true.”

Kayla fixes me with a look.

“Well …” I trail off. The truth is, Garrett is kind of dismissive about Kayla — with her blond ponytail and perpetual cheer and the way she always wears school colors on game days. “Suburban” he called her, as if that was the worst kind of insult — doomed to marry by twenty, pop out three kids, and never live more than ten blocks away from her parents.

And I laughed right along with him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Kayla must have seen my expression, because she smiles, seemingly unconcerned by his-slash-my judgment. “Besides, it can go on the list, right? ‘Stuffy and judgmental.’”

“I guess… .” Even though it’s part of the plan, it still feels disloyal to be talking like this.

“Come on,” she encourages me. “Your turn.”

“Um …” I shift, uncomfortable — and not just because of the splinters sticking into my thighs. “I guess he has this thing where he interrupts a lot. Only because he’s so enthusiastic about stuff,” I add quickly.

“‘Talks over you’!” Kayla cries, then hands me a strip of licorice like a reward. “Next?”

I think. “That beat-up military coat he always wears,” I offer, still hesitant.

“Yes!” Kayla agrees. “What’s with that? Like he’s some Russian general.”

I giggle. “And, he shows up late. All the time. I mean, it’s not a big deal, but —”

“Sure, it is,” Kayla argues. “You can’t settle for that stuff. Blake used to do it when we started dating, so I just stopped waiting. If he didn’t send me a message or something, I’d leave after fifteen minutes.”

I blink. “Wow, that’s … brave. Weren’t you worried he would just stop asking?”

She shrugs. “It would have been his loss. But it worked. He’s always on time now, because he knows I won’t wait around.”

There’s a whoop from the middle of the lake, and we look over to where Blake is wrestling TJ for control of an inflatable raft.

“Last one out to the buoy buys Popsicles!” Kayla cries, then suddenly pushes off the dock and slides into the water with a splash.

“No fair!” I cry, and jump in after her. I let out another shriek as the water hits me, sharp and icy cold. “You got a head start!”

We play around in the water, racing to the far side of the lake and then fighting the boys for control of the floats, until our fingertips begin to shrivel.

“We’re only letting you win,” Blake announces, finally ceding possession of a lurid green raft to Kayla.

“Aww.” She leans over the side and kisses him lightly on the lips. “There’s room for two!”

He hauls himself aboard, while I try to get comfortable on the inner tube without flashing anything compromising to the guys. But they’ve already lost interest and are racing back to shore, yelling threats and promises to the girls on the dock about just what — and who — they’re going to throw in the lake.

“You good hanging out a while longer?” Kayla calls over, snuggled in the crook of Blake’s arm.

“Sure.” I nod. “I’m good leaving whenever.”

“OK.”

I watch them drift gently back toward shore with their hands intertwined. I still feel a flush of shame about what she said earlier. She was calling Garrett the jerk, but I deserved it just the same. Maybe even more, because I was the one who was friends with her, way back when. I can see me and Garrett now: huddled together on the edge of every party, pointing out all the ordinary kids who we were sure would go on to lead such ordinary lives. At the time, it always felt like an affirmation. I wouldn’t settle for the easy path; I would be someone extraordinary, no matter how hard that made things right now. But now, looking back, I wonder if we weren’t just as bad as the bitches and cliques we made fun of, thinking we were different, above them all.

I paddle aimlessly around the edge of the water for a while, watching dragonflies buzz in the reeds. It’s cooler now, and the kids splashing with their water wings have made way for adult swimmers, and dog walkers are skirting the edge of the lake. But by the time I reach the dock again, the girls are packing up, shrugging on sweatshirts and jeans over their swimsuits. “Hey, good timing.” Kayla hands me a towel as I pull myself out of the inner tube. “We were thinking about heading out for something to eat.”

“My mom went to the store this morning,” Suzie offers. “There’s, like, a ton of meat we could grill.”

“Grill! Grill! Grill!” The guys chant and beat their chests.

“Could you be any more Neanderthal?” Yolanda sighs, fixing her hair up in careful braid.

“I’ll be your caveman,” TJ says with a wink.

“Animal, more like.” She rolls her eyes at me in solidarity. “Anyway, I vote the Burger Shack. Then we don’t have to worry about cleaning up.”

“Sounds good to me,” Suzie says. There’s a general chorus of approval.

“What about you, Sadie?” Kayla asks, packing up her stuff. “We can drop you, if you need to be anywhere.”

I look around. These aren’t my people, and I know I’m just tagging along, but right now, tagging along feels just fine to me. Better than sitting home alone, anyway — trying to ignore the messages from the only other friend in my life.

“I’m good,” I decide, smiling at Kayla with genuine enthusiasm. “Count me in.”

This task is way too big for one girl to handle on her own. No matter how humiliating it seems to admit that (a) you’re madly in love with a boy who (b) doesn’t love you back and (c) has broken your heart so thoroughly that (d) you have to work through a twelve-step program to get over him, be brave.

Why suffer alone when you could share the burden? Friends bring comfort, support, and snack foods for every occasion. And heartbreak goes so much better with cookies.

I creep into work Monday morning, unsure if I even have a job to creep to. I didn’t get any “You’re fired” voice mails over the weekend, so perhaps my prayers were answered, and the Gods of Short-Term Amnesia managed to wipe out all recollections of my last shift.

“Here she comes — guard the china!” LuAnn calls out, laughing, as I slink through the door.

No such luck.

“Um, hi.” I look around, nervous. We haven’t opened yet, so the place is still empty, aside from Aiko, who is curled up at a corner table, working in her sketchbook with her hood pulled up and the blue tips of her pigtails peeking out. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in, or …”

“What are you talking about? Catch!” LuAnn tosses me my apron.

I fumble for it. “Are you sure? Because after Friday …”

“Ancient history,” LuAnn declares. “Now, give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Your phone,” she repeats, holding out her hand. Her nails are painted a bright apricot, tipped with green. “Hand it over.”

“Your buddy Kayla called,” Aiko adds, looking up. “She explained your whole unrequited love thing. Said you needed support.”

“So we’re going to help,” LuAnn finishes with a smile. “I’m on phone duty today, and Aiko will … what is it you’re doing again?” She looks over.

“Providing artistic inspiration,” Aiko says. She turns her sketchbook to show an elaborate sign:
GARRETT-FREE ZONE!
it says, with a big red
X
across his name.

I’m overcome with a rush of emotion. After everything I did? “You guys …” I feel myself start to tear up. They’ve only known me a matter of weeks here, and still they want to help out?

Then I’m struck with a sudden insecurity. Maybe Kayla guilt-tripped them into it. Or worse, they feel obligated, like I’m a charity case. “You know, you don’t have to,” I tell them quickly.

“Sure we do!” LuAnn exclaims, surprisingly enthusiastic. “I love a good project.”

“She’s right,” Aiko agrees. “You’ll be doing her a favor. And us,” she adds. “If nothing else, it’ll get her off my case.”

“Hey!” LuAnn lobs a sugar packet at her. “I’ve just
suggested,
a couple of times,
in passing,
that you should be selling your art on Etsy, that’s all.”

“Ha!” Aiko snorts. “Try ‘incessantly nagged.’”

LuAnn pivots to face me again. “Anyway, I’m sorry that we didn’t take you seriously before,” she tells me sincerely. “It wasn’t fair to tease you like that.”

“Oh,” I pause, awkward. “Well, thanks.”

“Yay!” She smothers me in a quick hug, then steps back to show she’s plucked my phone from my back pocket. “So, starting today, it’s a clean slate. We’re going to get you through this — for the sake of our jobs as well as your mental health. Friday’s takings were … let’s just say below average.”

“I’m really sorry,” I say again as she hustles me behind the counter. “I’ll make it up to you — I swear.”

“We’re counting on it, kid.”

I’m just tying on my apron when my cell phone begins buzzing loudly in LuAnn’s grip. She checks the screen. “It’s him!”

I freeze. Aiko bounces over. “What do we do now?” she asks, excited. They huddle over the phone, full of excitement, like … well, like
me.
For a moment I forget that they’re supposed to be the calm, mature adults in this equation.

“I can decline the call,” LuAnn suggests.

“No!” Aiko objects. “Remember, she’s trying to be friends with him. Normal.”

“Right.” LuAnn nods, passing me the phone. “Answer it. But keep it quick!” she adds.

“Breezy,” Aiko agrees.

“Like you don’t have time to talk right now.”

“I don’t!” I tell them, rolling my eyes, but inside, I’m captive to a whole host of butterflies. “Hello?” I answer casually.

“Hey, Sadie, what’s going on?” Garrett sounds calm — certainly not like he’s just spent minutes debating picking up the phone.