Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick (7 page)

“Let me know when you’re back home,” Jack said. “I’ll be waiting.” 

I had a sudden urge to giggle. “OK.”

Jack did a funny little half wave and then turned to go down the stairs. I waved back and headed back to my dad’s.

The restaurant was sleek and modern and dim. I preferred eating in when I was at Dad’s because it all felt very divorced kid, the going out to eat, just the two of us. Depending on where we went, there could also be a bunch of other divorced dads with their kids. But now that I know not to crawl under the table during dinner, we don’t have to go to those places when we do go out. Dad was so excited that I let him order for me. He usually ordered tons of food and we split it all under the condition that he didn’t order anything like stomach or intestine. We ordered drinks while we perused the menu. 

I stared at my menu without really seeing what it said.
Should I tell him? Should I talk to him about HSA now? Seems like the perfect time
. I opened my mouth.

“Meadow?” Dad beat me to the punch. “How are things? Are you having a good summer?”

“I’m having a good summer, yeah. Things are . . . things.” And then I chickened out.

“Things? Great. Do you have any big plans?” 

“Not really,” I replied.

“No camps?” he pressed.

“Camp? Dad, I’m sixteen. My seventeenth birthday is right around the corner. I stopped going to camp when I was twelve.” I wondered what he was getting at.

“Fair enough.” He cleared his throat loudly. Twice. Then he looked up suddenly and the smile that followed was so bright it was like someone had brought the sun into the restaurant. But the smile wasn’t for me but for someone who stood right behind me.

“Hi!” Dad jumped up and slid out from behind the table.

I turned around to see a woman standing there. Dad hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. I stared back and forth between them with my mouth open, starting to comprehend.

Dad pulled out a chair for her at our table, and I realized that this had been his plan all along. Anger pooled in my stomach.

Dad sat down. “Meadow, this is Claire.”

“Hi, Meadow,” Claire said and held out her hand.

“Hi.” I took her hand for about a second and returned my stare to my menu.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. And I’ve seen a lot of your work. You’re very talented,” she said. 

I frowned. More because she either didn’t know anything about art or was lying.

“Claire is an art dealer,” Dad said just a little too loudly.

“Oh.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
She’s trying to compliment her way into my heart. It won’t work, lady.

I couldn’t believe that Dad would spring this on me and right when I’d almost worked up enough courage to talk to him about the one really big thing in my life. I sipped my water and held in a scream. 

Claire was pretty, very pretty. She looked nothing like my mom. Her hair was smooth and shiny and dark. She wore bright lipstick and had olive skin. She was wearing a deep red dress. My mom only ever wore black and white. She never wore lipstick.

I looked away whenever she looked at me. Finally, the server came and took our order. Dad ordered two oven-baked pizzas to share. Truthfully, they sounded amazing and my stomach grumbled in anticipation.

I refused to answer any of Claire’s questions with actual words. “Mmm-hhmm.” “Hmph.” Those were my only answers. My dad laughed at everything she said while completely ignoring me. The food arrived and I picked at the pizza despite my hunger. 

I should stomp out of here and walk home. But I don’t really know where we are and I think it’s too far to walk. Plus, I didn’t bring any money. Ugh.
I pushed my plate away and glared at Dad while he cheerfully ate and commented on the fancy pizza.

“I love this truffle pizza,” he said to Claire.

I raised my eyebrows. How annoying. Dad was entirely oblivious to my feelings. Claire probably wasn’t bad but I guess I wasn’t prepared to share my dad with someone. I’d never had to do it before. And I had a lot on my plate what with my lack of direction and the juggling of two boys. Now I had to process my dad’s new art-dealing girlfriend. We’d probably have to talk about it a bunch. Then I’d have to tell my mom. I wondered if she’d care.

As soon as dad signed the check, I jumped up out of my fancy, leather chair.

“Nice to meet you,” I said and booked it out of the restaurant to the car which was, of course, locked. I pressed my forehead up against the passenger side window and groaned.

Behind me, I heard Dad. “That went very well, I think.” I don’t think he meant it. It could have been worse, I guess, but it hadn’t been great.

When Dad opened his door, I lifted my face away from the window. There was a smudge on the glass from my forehead. I glowered at it and then got into the car.

The rest of my visit with dad was kind of lame. He had barely spoken to me on the ride home from the restaurant and I went to bed as soon as we got home. But the next morning, he got up and made waffles from scratch with bacon and tons of fruit. I ate, but grudgingly. I couldn’t really pass up one of my dad’s amazing breakfasts no matter how mad I might be.

Halfway through the waffles, the guilt got to me. “I’m sorry I was a jerk last night.”

Dad’s eyebrows knit together. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have sprung Claire on you.”

I shoveled a huge bite of waffles drenched in butter and syrup into my mouth.

“I need to run something by you,” Dad said.  

“What?” I asked through a mouthful of food.

“I want to bring Claire to Twist’s opening,” Dad announced. “Because I think she could help further her career.”

That wasn’t his real question. Dad was really asking if it was okay to bring her.

“Well, it does seem like knowing her could benefit Twist,” I said.

“Yes, exactly.”  

“Is it serious?” I held another bite hovering in front of my mouth. I felt like the parent all of a sudden.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, okay. I guess it’s fine.”

I cleared my plate and excused myself. A chilly fog greeted me as I stepped out onto Dad’s balcony to get some air.

Dad talked about anything but girlfriends while he took me home. I didn’t speak at all but would occasionally grunt or else he’d say, “Meadow? Did you hear me?” 

Finally, he turned on talk radio and the Fresh Air Weekend edition filled the silence of the car while we crossed the bridge and headed for the Berkeley Hills.

When we got back to the house, Dad came inside on the pretense of carrying my stuff.

“Ben, hi,” Mom said, appearing from behind the kitchen cabinets and wrapping a scarf around her neck. She kissed my cheek and wrapped her arm around my waist.

“Hi, Julie,” Dad said.

Even when your divorced parents get along, things can get pretty weird. Like right then.

“Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help get ready,” he said, referring to the opening. He put my one bag, a backpack that he’d insisted on carrying, down on the bench by the door.

They chatted for a few minutes and then Dad cleared his throat. “I’ll see you both at the opening. I’m on the road almost nonstop before I go to Paris. I’ll be back just before the opening if you need anything. Then we’ll get some quality time in.” Dad hugged me goodbye.

Now’s your chance. They are both in the same room. Just tell them. Tell them you want to leave HSA.

“Dad?” I said.

“Yeah?”

Both of my parents looked at me expectantly.

I froze. “Uh. Have a great trip.”

“Thanks, kiddo. Talk to you soon.” And with that, Dad was gone. 

“What was that about?” Mom asked.

“Uh, I have no idea. I gotta pee.” I didn’t have to pee, but I did want very much to escape that situation. I couldn’t lie to my mom because she was my mom and she always knew when I was lying. I just needed more time to think about what I would tell her.

I further stalled by taking a shower. Under the protection of the steam and hot water, talking to my mom about HSA seemed a lot easier. I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and practiced my speech.

Mom burst in. “Hey!” she called over the sound of the shower.

Startled, I knocked the conditioner off the shelf and it barely missed my toes as it landed. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got to run to the gallery for a few hours. Absolutely everything is going wrong with this show. I have no idea when I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Ok, bye, sweetheart. I’ll text you.” She slammed the door closed.

I got out of the shower and put on the rattiest clothes I had. After I dried my hair, I flopped on my bed, unzipped the front pocket of my backpack and took out my phone. No alerts at all. I reread the short conversation I’d had with Jack last night. 

Had fun 2day
, he’d texted me at 11:58.

It’s almost tomorrow . . . me too
, I’d replied.

Lol. See you soon? This week
? he’d asked.

K.

K
.

He hadn’t texted me back after that. So far today I’d been too busy and distracted to worry about it since my dad had decided to become some sort of Casanova and I had decided to dash my family’s hopes and dreams.

After a boring day, I got a text from Alejandro.
U
busy?

No
, I replied, my heart pounding as I relived the kiss.

Come over
. It wasn’t a question.

I changed very quickly into a casual, flowy white dress covered in blue embroidery that Twist had talked me into buying. I threw on a cardigan and checked my hair. After adding mascara and lip-gloss, I left mom a note instead of calling her and asking permission. I didn’t want her to say no and I figured I would deal with the consequences later.

“Here we go,” I said to my reflection and dashed out the door.

Chapter 7

Adrenaline pumped through me when I rang Alejandro’s doorbell. His house was the opposite of mine in every way. It was old with lots of character and lots of wood. I hadn’t been to his house in years. I had some fuzzy memories of an 8
th
birthday where someone’s mom led us in a short yoga session in his backyard, which is not an uncommon thing in Berkeley.

After a few long moments, the door opened and Alejandro stood there smiling.

“Hi,” he said and stepped aside. “Come in.”

I stepped inside and followed him down the hallway.

“My mom is away,” he explained as he led the way to his room. At least that’s where I assumed we were going based on my memories of this house. “She’s not coming back until tomorrow morning.”

He led me down a hallway and opened a door at the end.

“So, big party tonight then?” I asked, joking. 

“Maybe not a big party.” He ushered me inside by putting his hand lightly on my back. “She specifically said ‘no huge parties’, but maybe a few people will stop by.”

Alejandro’s room was kind of a mess, but then so was mine usually. His walls were covered in band posters, some I recognized and some I didn’t.

His bed was partially made like maybe that’s what he’d been doing when I showed up.

I glanced back and forth between the half-made bed and a small, worn microfiber sofa. With butterflies having a rager in my stomach, I plopped down on the sofa.

Alejandro grabbed a tablet, plugged it into his speakers, and sat next to me.

“I always put the music on shuffle and then wait for the perfect song to come on.” He pushed ‘play’ and we waited. Alejandro looked expectant. The speakers in the corner filled the room with a fuzzy sound, heavy on the guitar pedal. “I consider this a triumph!” he exclaimed. “A nearly perfect song for this time and setting. Listen to this part! It’s so great.” He turned the volume up.

I wasn’t completely sure we were listening to music anymore, just fuzzy noise.

“Well?” he asked me when it was over.

“I’ve never heard anything like it, really,” I said. “Who is it?”

“Sonic Youth.” Alejandro gave me a lengthy speech about the band, including its members, their personal relationships and how that ultimately led to the end of the band. “What do you listen to these days?” he asked after his spiel.

Another fuzzy song came on and this one was a lot harder.

“Mostly old stuff,” I replied. “I’m a big fan of the 60’s, musically, and in general.”

Alejandro seemed surprised but pleasantly so. “I thought you were into Top 40 and all that nonsense, like Emilia.”

“Not really.” 

It struck me that Alejandro didn’t really know me. Had I changed? Or had he just noticed that I wasn’t some sort of extension of Emilia. She and I were nothing alike. We hadn’t been even when we were friends.

Alejandro spent a long time zoned out, working on a playlist while I read the titles of the books on his shelves. Biographies of musicians mostly. Right when I started to feel uncomfortable, he finished and looked at me expectantly. I looked down at my hands. Alejandro finally started talking. He mostly talked about music. I mostly said “mmm-hmm” and “yeah.” He was hot. And brooding. No female in the entire world could resist a brooding guy, I mean if guys were their thing.

He told me all sorts of things I didn’t know about Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin when they’d lived here in Berkeley. It had once been a major spot for hippies, music, and the summer of love. It sounded amazing.

“Hey! Come on,” Alejandro said and jumped up when we heard the doorbell ring.

Disappointment settled over me. I really just wanted the chance to kiss him again. I followed him down the stairs and I felt a few waves of anxiety wash over me when he answered the door. The guys from Alejandro’s band were standing there with a girl that I assumed to be someone’s girlfriend.

We all headed downstairs to what used to be the playroom but was now a big den. A huge flat screen with a couch in front sat on one side of the room while the other side was devoted to the instruments. 

A guy that I heard someone call Declan took a bunch of beer cans out of his backpack and passed them around. “Who’s your friend?” he asked Alejandro, nodding toward me.

“Oh shit. This is my friend Meadow. Meadow, this is Declan. You know Perry and Carlos. This is Katie, Carlos’ girlfriend.”

Everyone mumbled a “hi” or “what’s up?” I did know Perry and Carlos from school, but not well. I sipped on my beer and tried to look cool-ish while everyone talked.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Declan began. “I invited a few people.”

“That depends on how many a few is,” Alejandro said with raised eyebrows.

“Not as many as last time, I swear. Just a couple of girls from my neighborhood. Smokin’ hot girls,” Declan answered, grinning, and then he shrugged. “And my brother.”

I looked over at Katie, but she was messing with her phone, lips pursed. I hate when guys went on about how smokin’ hot girls were in the presence of other girls. It just seems like a rude thing to do.

“I can uninvite them,” Declan offered.

I got the feeling he had no intentions of doing that.

“No, it’s fine.” Alejandro glanced over at me a few times while Declan further proclaimed how hot these girls were.

Maybe I should go. Does he mean I’m not a smokin’-hot girl?
Sometimes, I really hate guys.
I fidgeted and sipped my warm beer again.

The doorbell rang while I was still sipping my first beer. Warm beer, I’d decided, was not my favorite. I wasn’t exactly used to the taste of beer anyway, but it seemed more tolerable cold.

The doorbell ringer was Declan’s brother, Charlie. He brought more beer. Right after that, the girls Declan invited showed up with raspberry vodka and Sprite to put it in.

Alejandro was busy finding cups, the perfect music, etcetera. I guess the music that was perfect for upstairs in his room was no longer perfect.

This is weird. I’m totally alone in a room full of people. Is it me? Maybe if I sink down far enough, I can disappear inside of the couch.

A few minutes later, Carlos and Declan went outside to smoke.
Yuck.

“Hi,” I called to Katie.

“Hi,” she said, barely looking up from her phone. 

“I go to school with Carlos,” I explained. 

“Ah,” she said.

I thought she narrowed her eyes at me when I said that.
Yuck
. I tipped my can up and almost finished my beer, but I couldn’t bear to drink the last warm, flat mouthful. 

I stood up and made my way to the fridge where the “smokin’” girls were. They spoke to me at least.

“I’m Elise and this is Brittany,” said one of the tall blondes.

“I’m Meadow. Nice to meet you,” I said.

They exchanged a glance when I said my name.

“Want some?” Brittany gestured toward the vodka and Sprite. I almost said no but I didn’t want to seem super lame.

“Okay.” I shrugged.

“What’s her deal?” Elise nodded toward Katie while Brittany poured a lot of vodka and a tiny bit of soda into a coffee mug and handed it to me.

“No idea. I just met her an hour ago.” I took a tentative sip. Raspberry soda with a kick.
Delicious!

“Were you in my Spanish class?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

“Where do you go to school?” one of them asked me. I was having trouble remembering which was which. They looked an awful lot alike. Both Elise and Brittany were perfect California girls: tall, blonde, tan.

“Hobart School of the Arts.” I decided not to go into further detail.

Either Elise or Brittany wrinkled her eyebrows at me. “Really? I thought you were in my Spanish class.”

“Oh, well . . .” Elise turned to Brittany and began to viciously gossip about the people that they actually went to school with.

I backed away from Brittany and Elise and they didn’t notice. I sat back down across from Katie who was typing furiously on her phone. “Those girls are bitches,” she said.

“Yeah, they are.”

Katie went back to ignoring me.
Maybe I should just get up and leave. I doubt anyone would notice.

Alejandro reappeared. He sat down next to me, not too close, but he put his foot against mine under the table. 

“Sorry.” He grinned. “My mom called. I had to hide in the garage and talk to her.” 

“It’s okay. I was just getting to know Katie here.” Katie ignored us completely. “And the tan blondes over there.”

“I don’t even know who they are,” Alejandro said, glancing over.

Maybe I was paranoid but it seemed like his glance was a bit lingering. Declan had joined them and they were freshening their drinks and giggling in what I thought to be a very obnoxious way.

“They are cheerleaders probably,” I said.

Alejandro made a face.

Good
. 

When Carlos came back, he had people with him. Everyone seemed glad to see them. I didn’t know who they were. Alejandro introduced us super casually. “Guys, this is Meadow.”

“I’m Lee.” One of them shook my hand. Lee was kind of short and skinny, but very cute with super bright green eyes. I thought maybe I remembered seeing him before at the house party. 

“Hudson.” The other guy waved.

I recognized them then. They were from the band that had been playing the night of the party.

“Hi.” I waved back. 

Someone started strumming an acoustic guitar. Carlos and Lee parked in front of the television and fired up an incredibly creepy video game.
Okay. Loosen up, Meadow.

Alejandro stayed next to me, which was nice. I kept thinking about the other night and considerably inflating things. I tried very hard not to imagine our wedding.

Someone turned the music up and a few more people showed up.
Oh no. What if Jack shows up? I mean, wouldn’t that be weird? Or would it? I’m not even sure. Either way, I could do without that situation. Plus I’m a little
. . .
drunk? Am I? Yes. Maybe it’s time to stop.
I put my drink down on the table and pushed it away.
I hope I don’t throw up or do something stupid.

When I leaned back, Alejandro rearranged himself to be slightly closer. I managed to push old what’s-her-name out of my head. No one mentioned her after asking where she was.

Someone dimmed the lights. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was Isla. 
R u home?

Not at the moment
, I replied.

Oh. Can I come over when you get home?

Yeah. I’ll let you know
. I put my phone back in my pocket. 

Alejandro got up to get another beer. “You want something?” 

“No, I’m okay.”

The video game was still going. The music had shifted. Mellow but complicated. Elise and Declan were cozied up in the corner making out and Brittany sat with Lee and Hudson looking bored.

I tried not to stare at Katie and Carlos having a fight. Everyone pretended they didn’t notice. Lee strummed on the guitar with his eyes shut.

Alejandro plopped down right next to me. “Hi.”

My arm tingled with the feeling of his arm smashed up against it. My legs were like Jello. “Hi.”

Staring into his eyes was like staring into the freakin’ cosmos.

“You having fun?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t usually hang out so this is fun.”

“Why don’t you hang out?”

I stayed silent for a moment and then wiggled in my seat. “I don’t know.”

He touched his foot to mine under the coffee table. “Well, you should hang out more.”

A smile crossed my lips and I ducked my head to hide my blush. “Yeah. I should. I will.” I glanced at the time. “I should go soon.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yeah. My mom . . .”

“I’ll walk you out.”

I considered saying goodbye but then I thought it would be weird if I interrupted people making out that I didn’t even know to say bye. 

“Okay.” I stood and followed him back into the main part of the house. When we got to the stairs, he turned and grabbed my hand. “I was thinking we could go for a walk up to my room on our way out.” 

My heart started pounding very suddenly. I nodded and let him lead me upstairs, back to his room.
You are not in charge here, Meadow. Your hormones are.
I had a sense that there could be consequences as I followed him down the hall past pictures of him at every age.   

When we reached his room, he opened the door and led me inside. I had crazy butterflies.

He shut the door and I glanced around as though looking for a clue to the next right action. Of course, my gaze fell on the picture of Emilia tacked to the pin board behind his desk. In a brash move, I sat down on the bed and sighed with relief. Her black eyes no longer stared at me because there was a book in front of them.  

Alejandro sat down next to me, so close our legs were touching. 

“I’m really glad you came,” he said.

“Me, too,” I replied.

There wasn’t a need for words after that. We kissed for a very long time. I didn’t want to get carried away, but I could have easily kissed him all night. 

Finally, I pulled away. “What time is it?”

Alejandro glanced behind me at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Almost eleven. Don’t go,” he whispered.