Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick (6 page)

I avoided making eye contact with Alejandro and dashed inside to the kitchen.

Inside, we dropped our mugs off in the kitchen. My hand brushed against Alejandro’s when I took his mug. I blushed again. I grabbed the laptop from the counter.

“My room is this way.” I led him down the hall and into my room, glad that I’d compulsively cleaned earlier to pass the time.

After some deliberation, we settled on one of the million superhero movies. I checked my phone during the opening credits. A text from Mom confirmed she wouldn’t be home until midnight. For the first time, I truly appreciated that she always kept me informed about her whereabouts. I would have to gracefully kick Alejandro out before she came out. After all, I hadn’t even asked if he could come over.

The loveseat¸ usually covered in clothes, was completely clear of clutter and we sat down. Loveseats are called loveseats for a reason. When you sit down next to someone on a loveseat, you are literally right next to them. I tried to act cool.
I hope he can’t hear my heart beating.
 

“We’ve never hung out like this, just the two of us,” he said after a long silence.

“No. We haven’t.”
What did that mean?

“It’s nice.” One corner of his mouth raised in a smile.

I bit my lip. He stared into my eyes and I got lost. Now I get what people mean when they say that. I forgot where I was and what I was doing.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped about fifty feet. Alejandro raised his eyebrows.

“I’m a little jumpy, I guess.” It was Isla.
What’s up?
I stuck the phone in between the cushions. I didn’t want to do anything to distract myself from sitting on a loveseat with Alejandro. He sat close enough that our elbows were touching. Again. “Nothing important.”

Let’s get back on topic.
I cleared my throat. “It is nice. I haven’t, umm, hung out with anyone but Isla all summer.”

“Not even Emilia?” I almost gasped when he brought it up when I had been trying my darndest to pretend she didn’t exist.

“No, not since . . ." I trailed off, not wanting to remember the last day of school.  

“I thought you guys were best friends.”

“We were best friends. I guess I’m not over what she did.” I decided to be perfectly honest because I’d never heard anyone being honest about Emilia. I wanted to say, “I’m a little tired of having to be her cheerleader. I could use my own cheerleader just once in a while.” I didn’t say it, though.

“That’s too bad.” He was serious. If anyone knew how much Emilia could hurt people, it was him. She could also love people and you never knew which girl was going to show up. 

A fiery explosion filled up the screen and then another. We returned our attention to the movie. But my mind raced with possibilities.

During a lull in the action, I became acutely aware of Alejandro’s eyes on me. It felt different, not the easy fun that it was before. Emilia had gotten in the middle of things even though she was on the opposite coast.

I swallowed. I had to change the subject. “So what kind of music does your band play? I’m sorry I’ve never heard them before. I’m not sure why.”

Alejandro rattled off a long speech that I barely heard about how they had a British rock sound but with some shoegaze influences. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to listen, I did. I just couldn’t concentrate because since I was busy wondering what his exact intentions were, of if we were hanging out because he was interested, or because he needed someone to bitch about Emilia to, or none of the above.

The conversation fizzled out and for a while we just watched the movie. I grew more conscious of every breath I took and every move I made than I’d ever been before in my entire life. The room buzzed with anticipation, but I had no idea what to anticipate. More than once, Alejandro laughed, and I laughed because he was, even though I didn’t know what we were laughing at. I was paying much closer attention to the situation than the movie. 

“Meadow?” Alejandro said suddenly.

I turned my head. “Yeah?”

“Emilia left. She’s gone for the whole summer.”

“Oh.” I knew that, but I felt like he was saying it out loud for a reason.

“I mean, I just thought you would want to know that she is gone for the entire summer.”

“Yeah. That’s good to know . . . that she’s gone.” I frowned.
Is he telling me they broke up? I’m terrible at reading code
.

“Yeah.” 

The air tingled with all the things left unsaid. I desperately wanted to ask him about when summer was over. What would happen then? Maybe he didn’t know the answer.

“I guess you haven’t talked to her,” he said finally. 

“No.”

“That was really bitchy, what she did.”

“Yeah, it was.” I sighed. “But I think . . . I think Mr. Egan was right. I’m just an adequate visual artist. Nothing special.” I almost clapped my hand over my mouth. I had never said that out loud before, not to Twist or Isla or anyone. 

“Nothing special?” Alejandro shook his head. “You are entirely wrong, Meadow.” 

Before I could respond, Alejandro leaned over and kissed me. Soft and slow and perfect, and it took me completely by surprise. I thought I would melt into a puddle on the loveseat.

When it was over, Alejandro stood up. “I should go.” He seemed unnerved.

I was too. I checked the clock on the wall. 11:55. Where had the time gone?

“Yeah, you should!” I said, also standing up. “My mom is gonna be home any second.”

“Oh crap,” he said, and I led him to the back door since mom would almost certainly come in the front. I opened the door for him and stood next to it. Elation and guilt filled me equally. The blood rushing to my cheeks and tears smarted in my eyes. I wasn’t the kind of girl that kissed her friend’s, even her former friend’s, boyfriend, or ex, or whatever they were. I wasn’t the kind of girl that got kissed at all. 

He stood and looked at me for a minute before he spoke. “I hope I didn’t screw anything up tonight.” He squirmed and ran his fingers through his black curls.

“No. I—” but I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just said, “No, you didn’t.”

“There is just something different about you now, Meadow. I like it.”

I got hot and trembly all over. I smiled and he leaned over to kiss me again when we both heard the front door open, followed by the sound of my mom’s heels tapping across the foyer while she put her bag on the table and dropped her keys into the dish. 

“I’ll text you,” Alejandro whispered and slunk off into the night.

I knew I couldn’t hide that something had happened from mom. She would twist her blond, wavy hair up and secure it with a clip before giving me the third degree. Her “third-degree hairdo.” Moms can always tell. I tiptoed around the kitchen and down the hall into my room where I hopped in bed with my clothes still on.

Sure enough, a few moments later, my door creaked open.

“Meadow?” Mom whispered.

“Yeah?” I tried to make it sound sleepy.

“I’m home. Sleep tight.” She flipped off the light and stepped out of the room, closing my door behind her.

Chapter 6

“So you have everything packed? Are you taking something nice to wear? Your dad said he was taking you to a fancy restaurant.” My mom looked up at me from where she sat at the table totally distracted and typing ferociously on her laptop, her morning coffee growing cold. 

I poured myself a cup and added milk. “Yes, Mom, I have everything. I’m ready to go.” I took a gulp and let the hot milky goodness slide down my throat. “It’s only seven.”

“Well?” she asked, peering over her glasses.  

“Well, what?” I leaned up against the counter and sipped my coffee. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Alejandro. It had taken me forever to get ready to go to my dad’s because I kept drifting off and thinking about, well, everything. I replayed each significant moment in my head. I did my best to ignore the Emilia part. There would be plenty of time to worry about that later.

“Where’s your bag?” Mom asked me.

I rolled my eyes instead of answering. My stuff waited by the front door.

“Fine. But don’t blame me if you forget something.” She sipped her coffee and then made a face. “Cold. I’ll see you Sunday then. Have fun with your dad.”

I glanced over at my mom. She looked like you’d expect an artist would. Her blond hair frizzed and curled into her face. Her face, free of makeup, had few wrinkles and there was a teensy gap between her front teeth.

She smiled without showing her teeth and tapped her cheek with one long, turquoise bedecked finger.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek as the doorbell rang. “Bye, Mom.”

Outside, I hopped into my dad’s SUV. He lives in the city and most of the time, Mom drops me off at the train and I ride in to see him. It was a little unusual that he would drive all the way to Berkeley to pick me up. It wasn’t that far, but the traffic was always awful. 

As we drove, he told me about every amazing dish that they had at the restaurant that he was so excited to take me to. I didn’t really listening. I checked my phone for the thousandth time. I’d been checking my phone like a madwoman since I woke up. Isla and Twist were the only people that had texted me. No males at all. I kept waiting for Alejandro. I was also kind of waiting for Jack. What had happened to him? Why ask for someone’s number if you aren’t going to use it? I wouldn’t have wasted so much time wondering if he was going to text me if he’d never asked for my number in the first place. 

Mostly, though, I relived last night again and again and again. 

“Meadow?” Dad waved to get my attention. “I asked you how the party was.”

“Fine,” I said. “Good.” I hoped that would be enough.

It was. Dad chatted my head off about work. He went over the changes to our visitation schedule which would be affected by all of his work traveling. I didn’t have to pay much attention because my mom already had it written down on the calendar.

We sailed over the bridge, but traffic got really bad the closer we got to the city. Dad lived in a really nice part of San Francisco. His apartment had an excellent view of the ocean and the streets are lined with adorable shops and cafés.  

Dad got off the freeway and took the long way to his apartment by the marina. There were tourists already swarming in large, slow groups. More than one of them had on a fanny pack. I smiled. I got that fanny packs were kind of perfect.

Parents wore their babies around in baby carriers and the tiny hat-covered heads bounced along to the rhythm of their mom’s and dad’s steps. Almost everyone carried a to-go coffee cup.

The water beyond them sparkled blue. The slight chill in the air warmed as the sun burned its way through the morning fog.

We pulled behind dad’s building and he squeezed his SUV into a narrow parking space. We took the elevator to his fifth-floor apartment and I dropped my bag as soon as we walked in the door. 

“Want to grab us some coffee?” Dad was already firing up his laptop. “I have some work to do this morning. I know, I know . . . I’m sorry.” Before I could answer, he ruffled my hair and pressed two twenty-dollar bills into my hand while he dialed a number on his cell. 

The weird thing about being a divorced kid was the doing stuff. I thought that if they had never gotten divorced and we were all at home together, there wouldn’t be such a push to hang out together and make memories all the time. We probably wouldn’t even hang out at all. 

I took the elevator back downstairs and stepped out into the morning. I walked to the corner, the site of the greatest coffee place ever. The line there almost always stretched out the door and today was no exception. I took my place at the end of the line. I crossed my arms and twirled the end of my hair, contemplating the tangles at the bottom.

I made it in inside. College students had taken over most of the tables. I could tell because none of them looked like they’d slept. Impatient children tapped danced around their parents waiting in line.

The line inched forward. I rehearsed my order even though it was the same thing I always ordered. Two caramel lattes, one a triple—Dad’s. A guy with dreadlocks all the way down his back took my order and I sat down at a back corner table to wait.

I stared at my phone while I waited, trying to will Alejandro to text me. In fact, a text did show up while I eyeballed the screen, but not from Alejandro.

It was from Jack.
I like your shirt.
I had on a slouchy old band T-shirt that had belonged to Twist. I still wore it because it was perfectly worn and soft. I looked up, confused. If he liked my shirt, he could see me. My face broke into a smile when I noticed him in line. He held up his hand in a wave.

“God, he’s cute,” I muttered.  

Thanks
, I typed and hit ‘send.’

After he ordered, he shoved both hands in his pockets and walked toward me.

I swept my hair over one shoulder and thanked the gods that I had not worn yoga pants.  

“Hi.” He grinned and folded his tall, lanky body into the small café chair.

“Hi. Funny seeing you here.”

“Yeah, you too. What are you doing on this side of the bridge?” Jack asked.

“Visiting my dad. He lives a block away,” I said. “It’s my weekend with him.”

“Wow. Nice neighborhood!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, it’s great.” When my name was called, I got my coffees and dithered around getting napkins. 

“So what are you doing right now?” Jack asked after he got his.

“Just have to drop this off at my dad’s and then nothing, I guess.”

“Okay. Wanna do something?” 

“Sure.”

We started toward Dad’s building. “What brings you here?” I asked. 

“Actually, I was supposed to be meeting up with some friends to go to the beach but they bailed. I didn’t have anything better to do so I just came in. I was gonna go to Monster Records.”

“Oh, I love it there. Here we are.” I nodded toward my dad’s building. I hesitated by the front door.
Should I invite Jack up? No. That would be completely weird. Plus, I’d have to introduce him to dad. Gah.

Jack seemed to realize that and said, “I’ll wait for you here.” 

“Ok, I’ll just be a minute.” I could feel him watching me as I turned and headed toward the front door. I sighed with relief as soon as I stepped into the elevator.

As soon as I opened the apartment door, Dad’s loud “business” voice boomed through the apartment. I winced and stepped inside.

“Thanks, doll,” he whispered when I handed him his coffee.

I gestured to him that I was going back out.

“Where are you going?” he mouthed.

“Just out. I have my phone. Probably gonna go to Monster Records,” I whispered.

He put his hand over the phone. “Be back in time to get ready for dinner. We’re leaving at six.”

I stuck my thumb up and let myself back out.

Jack sat outside on a bench sipping coffee and watching people go by. I was impressed that he wasn’t on his phone while he waited like I would have been.

“Want to go to the park?” Jack asked when I got outside.

“Sure.” The city was full of parks but Golden Gate Park was the best and it wasn’t far from Dad’s apartment. My favorite part was the hill where all the hippies gathered. You could always count on a drum circle there and with drum circles come a lot of great people watching. And one side of it is close to the beach so it’s a win/win.

Once we crossed under the bridge and into the park, Jack asked, “Do you want to see if there’s a drum circle?”

My heart leaped. I was glad that I wasn’t the only person that found these things entertaining.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, maybe a little too exuberantly.

We chatted about HSA while we walked. I was relieved that Jack didn’t seem to know about my horrible last day of school. Maybe
everyone
in the entire school didn’t know. That didn’t make me want to go back.

We climbed a hill surrounded by trees. Indeed, there was a drum circle in progress at the bottom of the hill known as “Hippie hill.” Beyond the drummers was a huge green field. It was Saturday and the green field that stretched out behind the drummers was covered with people. There were three different soccer games going on around people hanging out on blankets.  

I hesitated. Maybe all the pot fumes drifting up from the drum circle were getting to me because I started talking. “Have you ever felt like no one sees the real you? Like maybe they’ve known you for so long that they only see the little kid version of you?”

Jack thought for a moment. “Except my parents, not really. But we’ve moved a few times with my dad’s job and I’ve only been at HSA for a year.”

“I went to preschool with everyone at HSA. Then we all went to the Sunshine School. We graduated from there and a bunch of us went to HSA which is, as you know, a very small place.” 

“Wow. I guess I see what you mean.” 

“Yeah and those of us who live in the same neighborhood, well, we’ve been thrown together even more.” I plucked a piece of grass and tied it into knots. “I’ve been thinking . . . I might switch schools.”
Wow. I said it out loud.

“Really? Why?”

“I just don’t know if it’s the right place for me anymore.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “So go somewhere else.”

I stared off into the distance and imagined what that might be like. Regular high school? No art classes or even one? I bit my lip. A weight lifted from my shoulders when I thought of the freedom. “Maybe I will.”

“I might miss you,” Jack said.

I tried to mask the goofy grin that took over my mouth. Embarrassed and thrilled, I changed the subject. “What made you decide to go to HSA?”
I sound like I’m interviewing him for the school paper.

“I just wanted a school that let me focus on my music. After my old school, my parents decided that I could try it out.”

“Why did they change their minds?” I asked.

“I’m not exactly great at school, especially math,” he said. “I got into some trouble and we spent about a hundred hours talking about what to do and finally they agreed to let me try HSA if I stopped hanging out with my old friends. They said they were a bad influence on me,” he answered.

It was ‘bare your soul’ day here on Hippie Hill.

I told him about the legacy of artists in my family and my apparent lack of gifts in that department. “I guess I just don’t feel like I have a choice. My grandfather founded the school. My mother went there. My sister went there.” I paused and then bit the bullet. “On the last day of school, my advisor told me that maybe I didn’t have it. Maybe I don’t.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said.

I laughed, but it was bitter. “Believe it.”

“I think you can do whatever you want.”

A warm bubbly feeling filled me up. Doing what I wanted hadn’t occurred to me. I didn’t even know what I wanted.

We were quiet for a while. An older lady did what appeared to be a made up version of tai chi by herself smack in the middle of the walking path. Families with children moseyed along, changing course to avoid Frisbee and soccer balls.

When the couple sitting in front of us started making out with abandon, my mouth dropped open. Jack burst out laughing and I joined him.

“Record store?” He jumped up and held out his hand.

“Yes!” I took it. He let go as soon as I was vertical.
This is awkward.
I brushed off my skirt.

Monster Records, a gigantic music story with every kind of music you can think of—cassettes (!), CDs, and eight tracks (!!)—was just a few minutes away. Although I had no idea why anyone would want eight tracks. Unlike most music stores, Monster Records was thriving thanks to hipsters and their obsession with vinyl, and it was in the perfect neighborhood. I chewed on my lip as we went, suddenly anxious about all the private stuff I had admitted to someone that I’d hung out with twice ever.

Inside, we browsed racks and racks of music in every genre. Jack found a few records he had to have. I found so many that I couldn’t decide on one, which was all I had money for, and so I didn’t get anything.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything?” Jack asked.

“I shut down in the face of too many choices.”

Jack paid for his records and we walked outside.

“I guess I should head back,” I said, but I didn’t move. 

“Yeah, me too. Do you know how to get to a BART station from here? Because I sure don’t.” 

“Yeah. There’s one on the way back to my dad’s place. I’ll walk you there.” 

“Thanks. So when are you heading back home?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” I replied. “Short visit.” 

“We should hang sometime.”

Heart flutter.
“Yeah, we should. Just text me.” 

“I will.”

We stood around awkwardly for a minute. 

“BART is this way.” A few minutes later, I stopped in front of the station and turned to face Jack. “Here we are.”