How to Be Brave (15 page)

“And Linberg's fucking crazy,” Avery remarks. “Like she might be absolutely certifiable. She's been around forever, makes no sense, old as hell, and still, she's back every August, her hair dyed a darker shade of brown.”

I chime in, hearing my voice aloud for the first time all night. “And she doesn't look at you when she looks at you. Instead, she stares at the space above your head—”

Daniel laughs and adds, “
Yes!
And it's fucking creepy!”

“I think she's looking at our third eye,” Liss says, suddenly the expert on all things metaphysical.

“Kind of, man,” Evelyn says. “It's more like she's looking at your aura, except she's not seeing it.” I get why Liss and Evelyn get along.

Avery adds, “We were always cheating in that class. I'd look over Rosie Cabrillo's shoulder to get the answer, and then I'd turn around and tell Althea White, who'd turn around and tell Felicia Carter, who'd spread it to the whole class.”

Everyone except me,
I think.

Don't think, Georgia. Just drink.

“And then,” Avery continues, “Linberg would inevitably yell at poor Rosie, even though she was the only one who understood trigonometry. Seriously, she was the only one actually doing the work.”

I remember that. How Rosie Cabrillo, freakishly smart nerd extraordinaire, would sit in the front row with Avery and some other moocher next to her, and she'd have her nose headfirst into her trigonometry book. She taught herself all of it from start to finish. Rosie's so smart—way smarter than I'll ever be. I never understood why she gave all the answers away to people like Avery Trenholm. Maybe it was the only way she knew to survive.

“Oh!” Liss adds. “And she'd stare above our heads at the corner of the room.” Liss had Linberg last year for AP calculus.

“Yes!” Avery is nearly yelling now. “Oh my God, this one time freshman year, Kevin Lee did the craziest thing—”

“I remember this!” I say. I know what she's talking about, the crazy stunt that Kevin Lee pulled that almost got
me
killed. I remember it well. I sat in the back row, right next to the scene.

“You do?” Avery looks at me like she's never seen me before.

“Yeah,” I say. “I was in class with you. I sat right next to Kevin, in the back.”

“Oh. Yeah. You were, I guess, huh?” Nope. She doesn't remember at all.

But Avery still smiles. And it's so freaking weird because it looks genuine. Or drunk. I'm not sure. “So, tell everyone what happened!”

“What?”

“You were there. Tell the people the story!”

Everyone's looking at me, waiting to hear how Kevin Lee almost ended my life.

Daniel nudges me. “Tell us!”

Okay.

I take a sip.

“So this one day, Linberg has to go to the bathroom or something, and she leaves us all in the room by ourselves. Well, needless to say, this is a very bad idea.

“Kevin Lee decides he's going to climb up on a desk to draw some faces in the corner of the room, I guess to give Linberg something to look at while she stares over our heads talking about vectors and shit.

“So first, he stands up on the desk, but he can't reach. Then, he piles up one desk upside down on top of the other and starts balancing on the wire basket that, you know, sits under the seat of the chair.”

Everyone's murmuring and laughing and shaking their heads.

“He's drawing this face in the corner of the room, balancing and drawing. Now, mind you, the window is wide open. Third floor, man. Top of the building.

“So of course, he's drawing and drawing—a little stick figure with hair and glasses, if I remember correctly. And then he slips—
slips!
—and the desk flies—”

Evelyn screams. “What happened?!”

“He almost fell out the window!”

“
What?
No way!” Evelyn and Gregg and Liss and Daniel and Chloe and everyone are all laughing and drinking.

I continue. “There I am, his black Converse teetering on the edge of the metal base of the desk. He tumbled down, his ponytail swinging, his arms flailing, toward me. I ducked because I thought he was going to land on me. And he almost did, except that somehow, at the very last moment, I moved—my body and desk together as one entity—away from his trajectory. Maybe I'd learned something of value in that class, after all. Anyway, he landed flat on the ground, right on his back. It's a wonder he didn't die.”

“Oh, and the
best
part,” Avery screams, her drink sloshing around in her glass, nearly splashing out. “Where did the desk go?”

Everyone except for Evelyn and me chimes in: “Out the window!”

Avery cheers: “
Yes!
A fucking desk flew out the fucking third-story window—and no one noticed!”

And there it is. Avery and I are best buds, drinking and laughing and telling grand old stories about our old high school days together. This Jungle Juice is awesome stuff.

“Wait—so how did Linberg not notice this?” Daniel asks. “I never heard this part of the story.”

I finish the story. “So Linberg comes back, and Kevin's flat on the ground, and a desk is missing, and we're all laughing and screaming—and so, what does Linberg do? She turns on her overhead projector, picks up her pen, and continues her lecture about SOACAHTOA. That's it. She doesn't ask, doesn't notice. Just goes back to inverse functions or whatever shit she's trying to teach us.”

“You're hilarious, Georgia,” Avery says to me. “The way you tell a story. I never knew how funny you are.”

“Yeah, well…” I don't even know what to say.

“So, Georgia…” Avery leans in. “Tell us about the list—your bucket list or whatever. What's on it?”

“Wait, what?” I freeze. “How do you know about that?”

“Evelyn and Liss told us about it before you got here. It sounds really awesome.”

I look at Liss and then Evelyn. “You guys told her?”

“They told all of us!” Avery says. “Tell us more, though. They wouldn't tell us what's on it.”

Liss takes a sheepish sip from her drink.

I want to kill them both. They told Avery and Chloe and all these other strangers about my list. They told
Daniel
about my list.

“I always wanted to make a bucket list,” Chloe says. “Like stay up all night and kiss in front of a sunrise. It's so romantic.”

“Is that on there, Georgia?” Avery says. “Who do you want to kiss?”

And she laughs when she says this. It's a cold laugh, and right after, she gives Daniel a pointed look. We're not best buds anymore. It's like we're twelve again, and she's teasing me. I can feel it.

“I don't want to talk about it,” I say. “It's personal.”

Daniel bumps his elbow into my arm. “You don't have to. I just think it's cool that you're doing something like that.”

“Whatever.” Avery shrugs. “I was just curious, is all.”

And then, that's it. End of story. End of my short-lived glory as life of the party. They turn the focus to their upcoming trip to Belize. Daniel and Liss are leaving in one week. Daniel fills the awkward space between Liss and me with facts about Belize. The horrid humidity. The lush, tropical rain forests. The amazing barrier reefs. Their efforts in marine conservation.

I wish I were the one going instead of Liss.

Snorkeling. The Mayans. Limestone caves. Daniel.

And then something changes.

Liss and Daniel smile at each other.

It's a weird smile. A knowing smile. An intimate smile.

What the fuck?

Am I so drunk I'm imagining things?

First she tells everyone about my list, and now she's flirting with Daniel?

No. Gregg sees it, too.

He frowns and pulls Liss's chin toward him.

They kiss.

Chloe pours more juice into my glass.

I take a sip.

And another sip.

And I drink until it's empty.

“So, Avery,” I say. “I have a question for you. Why did you pick what's-her-face, Zebra-girl, no, what'd you call her, Liss?”

“Georgia…” Liss shakes her head at me. “Stop.”

But I don't stop. It was funny, what she said, and I have to remember it.

“No, wait—” I laugh. “Hold on. Oreo cupcake. Yeah, that's it. You said she looked like an Oreo cookie cupcake.”

“Georgia, really. Stop it.”

“No, wait. You're right. She had a name. Mary. Yeah, Chloe's cousin Mary.”

Avery looks at me confused, but all nice and curious, like she's really, deeply invested in what I'm about to say. “What about her?”

“Why'd you pick her instead of me for cheer? I mean, she's a freshman and she's just as fat as me. And I could do a cartwheel, but she can't. So, what the fuck? Why didn't I make the team or squad or whatever?”

“Damn it, Georgia,” Liss nearly hisses at me. “Shut up already.”

“What? You said it,” I say. “I'm just pointing out the blatant nepotism that runs rampant in the halls of WHS.”

“Georgia,”
Liss sort of quiet-yells. “I. SAID. SHUT. UP.”

Avery just laughs kind of fake to blow it off, but everyone else gets real silent, real fast.

Evelyn breaks in, just to fill the air with something. “So, um, Daniel, when do you guys leave for your trip?”

“Oh.” He doesn't want to answer. “That first Saturday of winter break. We'll be gone the entire time.”

And then they all sort of join in, all except for Liss, who's obviously pissed, but she's so far away, and I can't feel my fingers, I can't feel my tongue, I can't feel anything, really, everything around me feels so heavy and slow.

So, I lie back.

And then,

I'm there with them, in Belize.

I'm snorkeling next to Daniel.

His hand is in mine.

The waves ripple around us.

Colorful, tropical fish tickle my skin.

“Hey, Georgia, want to try it?”

Someone's handing me a net to catch a fish.

I could learn how to fish here.

That's item #8, I think.

“Georgia … hello? You want to try it?”

It's Evelyn's voice, calling to me from beyond a barrier reef. What is she doing here in Belize?

“Georgia—”

“What?”

I open my eyes.

I look up.

Oh, dear Lord.

I fell asleep on Daniel Antell.

Holy Mother of all things good.

What have I done?

I lift my head off of him. I wipe the corner of my mouth.

I drooled on Daniel Antell.

I look around, and everybody's staring at me. I sit up. Daniel's wiping off his arm. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Damn it all. And Evelyn, who's sitting on the floor beside me, is poking me and asking me something.

I wipe my chin. “What did you say?”

“Wakey, wakey, Georgie-girl. It's happy fun time.” Evelyn's holding a Ziploc bag with crumpled leaves of pot in one hand and a glass pipe in the other. She's oblivious of how mad I am at her. “Time to spark some bud.”

I wipe my eyes and look over at Liss.

How long have I been asleep?

It sort of floods back—what Avery said to me, what I said to Avery—along with a raging headache.

“Come on, Georgia,” Evelyn says. “Let's give it a go, shall we?”

“Oh, my head,” I blurt out. “It's pounding.”

“Perfect.” Evelyn laughs. “This is medicinal. It'll make your headache disappear!”

“Wait, what?” I look at Avery. “We're smoking that here? Inside? What about your parents?”

“They don't give a shit.” Avery laughs. “They still smoke down here at night when they think I'm asleep or when I'm cheering away games. They won't even notice the smell.”

I'm still groggy and drunk, and the room is spinning like I'm at the center of a tornado. “I don't know. That doesn't sound like a good idea at all. And anyway, I'm not so good at inhaling.”

And then Avery to Liss: “I thought you said she was cool.”

There it is.

It's out in the open, in front of Daniel and Chloe and everyone. Georgia Askeridis is a loser. She writes dumb lists, says mean things, rats out her best friend, falls asleep on people, drools on them, and can't inhale to save her life. After a sudden ascent up the social hierarchy—an acceptance, if you will, into the home of Avery Trenholm—comes my quick descent into dorkdom. Who knew it would all end so quickly?

“May I speak to you in the other room, please, Georgia?” Oh, great. And as a result, I've pissed off Liss. Shit.

I get up off the couch and follow her into the kitchen.

I don't want to fight with Liss. So she told them about my list. Who cares? This is all dumb. “I'm so sorry. I've never drunk this much, and apparently I can't because it makes me say stupid shit. I'm really sorry, so sorry.” My head is pounding so bad. “And I fucking fell asleep. I just guess I couldn't handle all that juice—”

“What? Oh, I don't care about that. Look, Evelyn's the one who started talking about your list. I tried to stop her—I mean, I did stop her from telling them more. And as for Avery, she's idiotic. And she's so drunk, she won't even remember any of this by Monday.”

“Oh.” Okay. Well, then. Phew. “What, then?”

“Gregg, that's what. He's an asshole who's being an asshole.”

Besides her inability to curse creatively when she's drunk, what she's saying doesn't add up. Nice Gregg? Sweet Gregg? Perfect Gregg? Well, that doesn't make sense. “What's going on?”

“He fucking called me cheap and easy.”

“Wait, what? He called you that? I don't believe it.…”

“Well, believe it. He said I'm throwing myself at Daniel, of all things. I mean, Daniel. Why would I even do that? Gregg took me in the other room and told me tonight's not happening. He said I'm too drunk and he's pissed about me going to Belize, that he doesn't trust me.”