Outcast (8 page)

“What if Noelle promised to stay in school for the rest of the year and get straight As?” P’s eyes pealed my mother like a banana.

“She’s already expected to do that.”

I saw the scheming on my aunt’s face. “What if she promises to go to church every Sunday?”

Church every Sunday? My aunt was selling me out. A trip to
Chicago
wasn’t worth a lifetime of Sunday mass.

“What kind of manipulative game are you playing, Penelope?” my grandmother asked.

However, my aunt found a point of negotiation because my mother raised her hand, gently silencing my grandmother.

“What do you plan to do in
Chicago
?”

“Sightsee, go to plays. I’ll even take her to Sunday mass in the city.”

My aunt was a bigger liar than I was. My grandmother knew it because she let out an enormous chortle.

“She’ll be back before her birthday,” my aunt added for good measure.

“I suppose you want to go?” My mother turned her attention to me.

I simply nodded.

“All right.” My mother heaved a huge sigh, then turned her focus toward me.

“You’re letting her go?” Rebecca asked in a whine. “You can’t be serious.”

My mother silenced Becca with a look, then rounded on me. “When you get back,” she said, “it’s church every Sunday. No exceptions.”

“Every Sunday?” I finally found the nerve to speak.

“Every Sunday until you no longer live under my roof.”

“That’s two and a half years.”

“Take it or leave it.”

I knew
Chicago
with Aunt P would be different than with any other person. The smile in her eyes told me it would be well worth the price.

“All right.”

“Since you don’t know what it’s like to raise a child of your own, I suggest you take extra care with mine.”

“No need to get personal, Joyce.”

My grandparents shook their heads, clearly disappointed in my mother for negotiating with my aunt. They quietly finished their meals then headed upstairs. They probably planned a sex romp in my bed.

As I rinsed the soap bubbles off the plate, I pushed those thoughts down the drain. I let other things surface instead like
I’m not into her, I’m into you
. I fell into my imagination, pretending the wash of water over my hands was
Chad
’s fingers stroking my own again.

“You’re wasting water,” Becca snapped, slapping the faucet off. With the appearance of Aunt P and the exclusive invitation to
Chicago
, the short-lived camaraderie between Becca and me dissipated. Our relationship returned to its normal state, filled with silence and animosity. I washed the dishes, and she dried them. No more childhood playfulness passed between us.

“You have no right barging in here and upsetting Mom and Dad like that.” It was my mother’s voice laying into my aunt at the front door.

“Relax, Joyce. You’re always so uptight.”

I turned off the water and paused in the middle of rinsing a salad bowl.

Becca turned it back on. Through the splash of water, I listened to the tidbits of conversation wafting from the foyer.

“I can see where it would be difficult to confuse being uptight with having morals, Penelope.”

“Joyce, loosen up. Life is too short.”

“What do you know about life except how to destroy it?”

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

The door closed as quickly as it opened, and P was gone.

I was going to
Chicago
!

I saw
Chad
. He saw me. All he gave me were solemn smiles, obligatory hellos. Then he basically avoided me. I didn’t blame him for being mad. But blowing
Chad
off bothered me more than I realized. I tried to deny that I was into him, so I concentrated on studying and on someone else: Jake. He would prove to be the aspirin that dissolved the pain—the heartache—I felt from abandoning
Chad
.

“How does Jake like college?” It was a stupid question, but I didn’t care. The least Grace could do was humor me, considering I had sacrificed something good to save her feelings.

“Fine. Why?”

“Just wondering. I haven’t heard you talk about him.”

“He was home for Thanksgiving.” 

“Hmmm.” 

“He mentioned you.”

My heart skipped a little.

“He said his friend thought you were cute.”

Oh.

“Everyone seems to like you.”

“Not everyone.”

The play. My parents didn’t come. They gave some excuse.

Stage nerves set in. Molly Collier who played Snug was sick with the flu. Because Grace memorized every line of the play, Father Dodd shoved her into the part. Jake and Mike came for support. Although I believed Mike had other reasons for being there.

The hardest part for me was seeing
Chad
. He gave me courtesy
hello
s
, but mostly he glided past, pretending we were strangers. I had pushed him away and pushed him hard—right into the arms of Trina. He smiled at and talked to her, and she drank in every ounce of it. I was jealous. Jealous because only a week ago, he gazed at me with those dreamy eyes. Jealous because I still liked him.

Then I heard Aunt P’s voice in my head, the words I thought she would say:
Who cares about him? Two college guys are sitting in the audience. You know one of them likes you. Use Mike to make
Chad
jealous.

I tried to concentrate on the play. I thought I was focused, but I was wrong. I stumbled over my lines. It was a disaster, and I felt embarrassed because I ruined Father Dodd’s production. He worked so hard to make it perfect, labored and toiled over it like an artist with his masterpiece, nursed it like a child. Because of a few stressful moments, I destroyed what he had created. He’d never ask me to be in another of his plays again. The whole thing was made worse by the storyline. Just as the love potion caused Lysander to think he loved
Helena
, so it was between
Chad
and Trina. Except, in the real-life ending, the portion never wears off; Hermia and Lysander never find their way back to the other. Lysander stays in love with
Helena
.

When my last line was spoken, I considered flagging down a taxi and escaping into the depths of
Central Park
. Except this wasn’t Broadway, it was
St.
Sebastian
High School
. And we weren’t in
New York
, we were in
Scottsdale
.

I didn’t want to face the other members of the cast, but I refused to turn a cowardly heel and dart out the door. I at least owed Father Dodd an apology for my flubbed and forgotten lines. I desperately needed Grace’s consoling.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I guess I was upset because my parents didn’t show.” It was easy to blame everything on them rather than list the real reasons for screwing up.

“Yeah,” she said.

I moved in to hug her because I needed her support. She barely hugged me back, like touching me was an inconvenience and an embarrassment. I never expected Grace to be callous, so I pulled away.

Trina waltzed backstage. “You did that deliberately.” She moved closer to me than she had ever been before. She whispered so that no one else would hear her. “You think falling off that ladder was bad? Just wait.”

She stormed off like a spoiled
Hollywood
celebrity.

A team of students and cast members, including Grace, gathered around to console and pamper her.

Father Dodd approached me as I watched from afar. “Off night?”

I nodded. “I’m really sorry I messed up your play.”

“You didn’t mess it up.”

“I’m through with theater.”

He scrutinized me for a moment, searching for something profound to say. “Maybe. But that will be your decision, not mine.”

Of all the people who were there that night, Father Dodd was the only one who believed in me, even more than I believed in myself. For some reason, that made all the difference in the world.

I wandered backstage, but stopped when I saw Trina standing dangerously close to
Chad
, her hand resting on his bicep
. “…cast party at my place. Everyone’s invited. Wanna come?”

He hesitated. Then his eyes moved over Trina’s shoulder and met with mine. He searched my face for a reason to say
no
to her. But I didn’t gi
ve him one. I didn’t stop him.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” I heard
Chad
say.

“Great!” I could hear the sparkle in Trina’s voice as I walked away, completely devastated.

Though Trina spoke the phrase
everyone is invited
, I knew I was excluded. I didn’t want to go anyway. The last thing I needed was to watch Trina and
Chad
grow friendlier with one another—and at Trina’s house, no less.

As audience and cast members spilled into the parking lot, I called home. Grace, Jake, and Mike approached just as I finished the call.

“Hi, Noelle.” Mike offered a smile filled with implication. “Nice improv.”

I flushed, lowering my head in shame.

“I guess we’re driving you to that
North Scottsdale
party,” Jake said.

“I’m not going.”

“Boyfriend picking you up?” Mike was as see-through as a Ziploc bag.

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” said Grace.

Despite Mike’s lack of good looks and missing finesse, Grace seemed jealous of the attention he gave to me. “We should get going,” Grace pushed.

“I think we should wait for Noelle’s ride to show up,” Jake gallantly offered.

“But I don’t know how to get to Trina’s house. We need to follow someone,” Grace insisted.

Selfish Grace. I had seen that side before.

“Why don’t you get directions?”

“But…” Grace was unrelenting.

“I’ll stay with her,” Mike volunteered.

“That’s all right. You two go. I’ll wait with Noelle,” Jake offered.

He tossed his keys to Mike who reluctantly caught them. I didn’t like so much attention being placed on me.

“I don’t need anyone to wait with me.”

Grace, noticing the onslaught of departing cars, rushed toward Jake’s car. She beckoned to Mike to follow her so she wouldn’t miss her chance to rub elbows with Saint Sebastian royalty. Mike grudgingly complied.

“Why don’t you go with them?” I insisted, though I was glad he stayed.

“And miss the chance to spend time with Hermia from
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
?” He chided me lightly.

I smiled and rallied a bit.  “I suppose you want my autograph?”

He studied me, seeming to measure his next words. “That’s a good start.”

I dropped my eyes, wanting my blush to take cover in the building’s shadows.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Jake said, lifting my chin until our eyes connected.

“You…didn’t.” I swallowed hard.

Just then,
Chad
emerged from the theater.

“So no boyfriend, huh?” Jake asked.

Chad
looked over, his eyes raking over Jake.
Chad
seemed to percolate with envy.

It would have been so easy to say
yes
, to walk over to
Chad
and tell him I didn’t mean what I said, to turn the tide completely between us. He had wanted to be my boyfriend. I wanted it, too.

“No,” I said to Jake, giving
Chad
a final and regretful glance. “No boyfriend.”

I watched
Chad
leave. Jake didn’t seem to notice the trajectory of my stare.

“What about you? I finally asked. “Do you have a girlfriend?” It was mere chitchat to avoid thinking about what happened between
Chad
and me.

Jake eyed me for a moment before answering. “No,” he said coyly. “Not yet.”

It was the end of the semester. Time for
Chicago
. I dumped clothes and toiletries into pieces of luggage.

“Do you have everything you need? A warm jacket? Calling card? Clean underwear?”

“Mom!”

My mother glanced nervously at the clock. Our flight was scheduled to depart in forty-five minutes. P was late.

Becca loomed at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed silently in protest.