Tell (9 page)

Melody nodded.  “You’re probably right.”

“What time is your curfew?”

Melody furrowed her brow.  “Midnight.  Why?”

“Give me your phone.”  Susan held out her hand.

“
Why
?”

“Just give me your phone,” Susan commanded.

Melody obliged and handed over her phone.

Susan flipped it open and began pushing buttons.  Melody leaned forward, but could not see across the table to determine what Susan was doing.  “If your curfew is midnight, you’ll have to leave Stacy’s house by about 11:45 to make it home in time,” she began.  “So, I’m setting an alarm on your phone for 11:35.  If you haven’t told Andy that you like him by 11:35, your phone is going to go off to remind you that that is your mission, and it must be completed.”

“Wait, if I have to leave by 11:45, that only gives me ten minutes to talk to Andy,” Melody protested.

Susan handed the phone back across the table to her.  “Well then, I suggest you start sooner.”

The final bell rang, signaling the end of eighth period.  Elliot and Felicia stood up, gathering their things.  Felicia was aware that they had barely spoken to one another since they had sat down at the beginning of class, which was a rarity even though they had only known each other for several days.  It seemed like already they had gotten in the habit of reliving their days to one another during this class.  Even though they saw each other at lunch, they had two classes between then and eighth period. Felicia had chemistry followed by gym; Elliot had Spanish, then trigonometry.  The past two days, they had dissected these classes in great detail to one another.  However, that had not been the case today.  Felicia just did not feel like talking.

Evidently, Elliot did not share that feeling.  “Your brother is in my Spanish class,” she announced.

“Oh?” Felicia answered absently.  “Yeah, I guess he would be.  That never occurred to me.”

“Well, he is.  Why is he in Spanish 3 and not 4?”

“He took French his freshman year and hated it, so he switched.”

“Oh.”  Felicia could see that Elliot was eyeing her carefully.  “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Felicia responded.

“Mm-hmm.”

Felicia could tell Elliot did not believe her, but she did not feel like elaborating.  She was grateful that the topic was left alone, but she still wished that Elliot would not continue making mundane conversation just to fill the silence.

“So, all the cheerleaders wear those shirts or something?” Elliot asked.  She nodded in the direction of Rachael Dunmyer.

“She’s not a cheerleader,” Felicia replied dully.  “She’s dating Ryan Hostler.  On the day of a football game, all the girlfriends wear those shirts.  It’s some stupid tradition.”

“Who wears Shane’s?”

“Shane doesn’t have girlfriends.  He has hookups.”

“Oh.  So they get these shirts—”

“I’m going to have sex with Brian tonight,” Felicia blurted.

Elliot clapped her hands together excitedly.  “
Yes!
  I knew that if I talked to you about something completely stupid, you would tell me what was really going on.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Felicia demanded.  She glanced around surreptitiously, making sure no one else was within earshot.  All the other students seemed to have skedaddled more quickly than usual, being that it was Friday afternoon.

Elliot paused.  “Congratulations?” she suggested.

“I’m glad you can be so nonchalant about it,” Felicia hissed.  “
I’m
freaking out.”

“Felicia, what’s to freak out about?  You love him, don’t you?”

Felicia was silent for a moment.  “Yes,” she finally responded, almost resentfully.

“And you said you were going to have sex with him eventually, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well…”  Elliot trailed off in a shrug.  “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but it’s going to be okay.  It’ll probably be kind of weird and awkward the first time, but at least you guys care about each other.  I lost my virginity to a guy I’d been dating for a month who dumped me the next day.”

“Are you serious?”  Felicia was appalled.

“Yeah.  It was pretty brutal.  He sent me an e-mail that said, ‘Welcome to Dumpsville.  Population:  You.’ ”

“He did not,” Felicia said, smiling.

“Okay, not really.  But he might as well have.  It was equally brutal.”

Felicia sighed.  “So what you’re saying is—”

“What I’m saying is, it’ll go a lot more smoothly if you’re not freaking out,” Elliot said.  “I know it’s a big deal, but… it’s not enough to stress yourself out over.  Okay?”

Felicia nodded.  “Yes.”

“Okay,” Elliot said skeptically.  “I know you’re just going to ignore me and freak out anyway, but I appreciate that you pretended to listen.”

Felicia actually laughed.

She and Elliot parted ways at the auditorium door; Felicia headed toward Shane’s car, which was parked in the lot, and Elliot headed to her own car, which was parked on a street behind the school.  As she walked to the parking lot, her head down, she marveled at how close she and Elliot had become in just a matter of days.  Here she was, delving into her sexual issues with Brian without provocation after eighth period, while the prospect of discussing the same thing with Cadie seemed absurd at the least. Why did she feel so comfortable talking about it with Elliot?  And why, she wondered, did she feel more comfortable talking about it with Elliot then actually doing it with Brian?

Eight

Cadie climbed the bleachers behind her parents, who were completely decked out in blue and gold.  Their uninhibited enthusiasm at the high school football games had always amused her.  They claimed they only attended to see Melody perform, but Cadie knew they were die-hard football fans.  It was always a shock to see her demure and immaculate mother screaming and rattling a cowbell.

It was warm enough this evening, but Cadie knew that within the next few weeks they would be sitting out here under blankets and sipping hot chocolate.  Currently she was comfortable wearing only a hooded sweatshirt.  Underneath she wore a striped polo shirt over jeans.  A pair of cute high-heeled boots had replaced her burgundy Doc Martens for the evening, and she was wearing her contacts instead of glasses.  She still was not sure if she was going to stay at the party, but she figured if she did, she might as well not look like a trucker.

“Is Felicia going to that party with you?” Daisy asked, settling down next to her husband.  All three of them had blue and gold seat cushions.

“No,” Cadie replied, sitting down next to her mother.  “She’s going out with Brian tonight, I think.”

“Oh.  Well, anyway, your father and I discussed it, and since you’ll be out tonight with Melody, you don’t have to be back at midnight.  We don’t have a problem if you stay out until one.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on going to the party,” Cadie said quickly.  “I was just going to drop Melody and Andy off and then pick them up later.”

“I thought you said it was at Stacy’s house,” Daisy said.  “Aren’t you two friends?”

“Yeah.  It’s just not really my scene.  It’s all football players and cheerleaders.”

Tom and Daisy exchanged a glance.  Daisy cleared her throat.  “I don’t mean to sound negative,” she began diplomatically, “but—”

“Why the hell are Melody and Andy going?” Tom interrupted.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Cadie responded.  “I’m just the chauffeur for the evening.”

Tom and Daisy looked at each other again, this time for longer.  Cadie knew they had these silent conversations often.  She wondered how long a couple had to be married before they developed the ability to read each other’s minds.  Then she wondered if the couples who never developed that ability were the ones that ended up getting divorced.

Finally, Daisy turned to look at her.  “I think you should go to that party,” she said.

“Why?” Cadie countered.

“I don’t like the idea of Melody going to that party by herself,” Daisy explained.  “She’s not really friends with anyone that will be there.”

“She’s friends with Andy,” Cadie pointed out.  Daisy gave her such a look that Cadie said, “Okay, I retract my previous statement.  Clearly that was the wrong thing to say.  I just don’t particularly want to go to that party.  I don’t know why you think it’ll be better for Melody if I’m there.”

Tom leaned around his wife to look at his daughter.  “What else did you have planned for tonight?”

Cadie raised an eyebrow at him.  “That was pretty rude, Dad.”

“It was just a question.”

“Well, what do
you
have planned for tonight?” Cadie shot back.

“Excuse me,
I’m
forty-three.  I’m an old man and my life is pretty much over. 
You
, on the other hand, are seventeen and should be out on a Friday night.”

“Excuse
me
, I’m out right now.”

“With your parents,” Tom and Daisy said together.

Felicia sat at her vanity and stared at her own reflection in the mirror.  She was fully aware that tonight would be the last night that a virgin stared back at her.  She wondered how much it would hurt, and whether or not that would affect her performance at her dance rehearsal tomorrow.

Mostly she wondered what kind of effect it would have on the future of her relationship with Brian.  Tonight they would have sex.  What about tomorrow night?  And the night after that?  Brian was leaving soon for college.  How much of his remaining time at home were they going to spend engaged in conversation compared to the amount of time they spent engaged in sexual intercourse?  She was very aware that they were never going to be able to come back from tonight.  But what if she wanted to?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.  She looked at her watch and took a deep breath.  It was only 6:45, earlier than Brian said he would be there, but that did not surprise her, considering how badly he wanted to do this.  She stood and went to the window, looking out into the driveway.

If she had believed in cursing, she would have.  Her parents’ Subaru Forester had just pulled up.  They had left for Shane’s game a bit ago, but obviously had forgotten something.

Brian was bound to show up at any moment.  Felicia crossed the room to her desk and grabbed her cell phone.  She immediately started sending a text message to Brian, warning him to hang back because her parents had just returned.

No sooner had she hit the “send” button did Felicia hear another car pull up in the driveway.  She looked out the window to see Brian’s green Dodge Shadow pull in behind her parents’ car.  She watched her father and Brian get out of their respective driver’s seats at the same time.

This time she actually did curse out loud, turning to run out of her bedroom and downstairs.  She got halfway down the hallway before doing an about-face and returning to her room to deposit a quarter in the swear jar on her desk.  Then she ran back down the hallway again.

Felicia reached the top of the stairs just as the front door opened in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs.  She froze.

Alex and Brian came through the door together.  Felicia swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say.  Her parents were pretty easy-going, but they did have rules.  One of them was keeping the door open when she had Brian in her room.  Another was that she and Brian were not allowed to be alone in the house together.  Period.

Alex saw her standing at the top of the steps.  “Hey, honey,” he greeted her.  “Are you ready?”

Her eyes widened.  “Um, what?”

Her dad disappeared behind the staircase, walking toward the den at the back of the house.  “
I
had to come back because
we
forgot the camera,” he called as Felicia descended the stairs.  “Actually, I’m pretty sure
she
forgot the camera, but try telling her that.”

“What did you say to him?” Felicia hissed to Brian once she had reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I told him that we’d decided to go to the game tonight,” he whispered back.

“What?  Why did you tell him that?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry.  He asked me what I was doing here and it was the first thing that came to mind.  I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell him we were going to the movies or something?  Then we could have doubled back.”

“I had to think fast—”  Brian cut himself off when Felicia’s father walked back into the room with his wife’s camera.

Alex looked at Felicia.  “You’re not ready.  We’re going to be late.”

Felicia felt completely trapped.  “Let me go get my purse,” she said defeatedly.  She went back upstairs to her room.

While she was gathering up her things, she saw that she had a new text message.  She opened her phone, expecting to see a hasty message from Brian in response to her previous text, but instead it was a message from Elliot.

Let me know how it goes.  EW.

Felicia half-smiled; she thought it was amusing that, even though it always looked like a sign of disgust, Elliot used her initials as her text message signature.  She responded,
Change of plans.  No longer having sex tonight.  Going to the football game instead.

As she was putting her shoes on, her phone beeped, and she opened it to read Elliot’s reply.

Not sure which one would be more painful.  EW.

In spite of the evening that lay ahead of her, Felicia actually laughed.  She tried not to think about the feeling of relief that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Melody was sweating as she filed into the bleachers with the rest of the trumpet section.  There were seven of them this year, the biggest their section had been since Melody had joined the band in seventh grade.  There was only one other girl in the section besides herself, and that was Tiffany Greiner, a senior and their section leader.  The other trumpet players were Wes Caldwell, a senior; Steve Wolf, a junior; Clint Taylor, a freshman; and Mike Mountain and Patrick Young, who were both in eighth grade and new to the band this year.

Melody was seated in between Steve and Clint.  She felt fortunate not to have to sit next to Mike and Patrick, who were easily the most obnoxious and immature kids on the planet.  Melody was unsure if all eighth grade boys were like this, or if their section had just lucked out when the two of them had chosen the trumpet over all other instruments to play.  Clint would often cast wide-eyed, helpless glances in Melody’s direction when the two of them started acting particularly idiotic.  He was very quiet and rarely spoke, unless it was to ask to borrow some valve oil or something.

Mr. Bell was in conversation with Kristy, who was crouched low on the podium.  Since their show this year consisted of Spanish music, she wore a red and black flamenco dress, similar to the colorguard’s costumes, though they wore pants.  Mike and Patrick were hovering slightly above the bleachers, craning their necks in an effort to see down the front of Kristy’s dress.  Clint rolled his eyes.

Kristy stood to address the band.  “Take your jackets off,” she shouted.

This command was met with cheers as kids started unbuckling and unzipping their jackets.  The heat and humidity were starting to become unbearable, and especially now that they had just finished marching their show, band members were starting to turn into human sweat factories underneath their uniforms.

Melody stood to stretch her back, twisting her right shoulder around to the left side of her body.  She surreptitiously glanced over her left shoulder as she did so.  In the stands, the saxophones sat two rows behind the trumpets, which hindered her ability to look at Andy as often as she liked.  She had a series of stretches and other maneuvers she performed in order to do so.

During this stretch, Andy was staring down at his saxophone and fiddling with his mouthpiece.  Melody caught Lucas’s eye over Andy’s shoulder.  Lucas stuck his tongue out at her playfully.  She stuck her tongue out back at him, then turned around and took her seat.

Cadie appeared at the bottom of the bleachers and began climbing toward the trumpet section, a bottle of Aquafina clutched in her hand.  Patrick elbowed Mike as she approached, and both of them watched her ascent in interest.  Melody thought her sister looked a little different; it was clear that she had straightened her hair, which was pulled into a ponytail just above her neck, and the Doc Martens she normally sported were replaced by a pair of shiny black boots.

Cadie reached over the three boys to hand Melody the bottle of water, which she gratefully accepted.  “Here,” she said.  “It’s really humid.  I’m sweating.”

“Take off your sweatshirt,” Melody suggested, unscrewing the cap on the water.

Cadie glanced at Mike and Patrick, who were looking far too innocent to be innocent.  “Maybe later,” she said dryly.  She nodded in the direction of the saxophone section.  “Are you still set on going to this party with Andy?”

“Yes.  Are you still going to drive us?”  Melody took a sip of the Aquafina.

“Yes.  Actually, it looks like I’ll be making an appearance myself.”

Melody swallowed.  “Did Stacy convince you to go?”

“Something like that.”  Cadie glanced over her shoulder.  “I’m going to go grab some food for myself.  The show was good,” she offered as she started to head down the bleachers.

“Thanks,” Melody called after her.

Once she was gone, Patrick leaned around Mike and Clint to address Melody.  “Was that your sister?” he asked hopefully.

“Don’t even think about it,” Melody said flatly.

Andy was not sure if he had set a record for the shortest amount of time taken to change out of a band uniform, but he was pretty close.  Not only that, but he managed to change into a decent outfit (jeans and a striped, button-down shirt), reapply an inordinate amount of deodorant, and use water from the men’s bathroom sink to slick his hair back before Melody had even finished taking off all the components of her uniform.

“Are you seriously not ready to go yet?” he demanded.

“Are you seriously going to watch me undress?” she answered, stepping out of her band pants.

“You’re wearing clothes underneath, Mel,” he said in exasperation.  “Don’t make me out to be some kind of pervert.”  He nervously ran his hands over his hair.

She looked at him quizzically.  “What happened to your hair?”

“It’s just wet.”

“Will it look better once it’s dry?”

Lucas, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, walked up behind Andy and put a shako on his head.  “Here, we’ll give it that nice band hat shape that all of us strive so hard for.”