This Ordinary Life (19 page)

“Sure.” She smooths her hand along the table and doesn't look at me. “I'm going to do it this time, Jazz.”

Her words are way too heartfelt for this early in the morning and the shock of it is like a chair being pulled out from under me. Trying to figure out how to respond, I take a deep breath, causing a mouthful of pancakes to go directly down the wrong pipe. I choke and sputter, managing finally, eventually, to nod and smile. I look at Danny, happily eating and rolling a toy car back and forth, and back to my mom. I hope like I've never hoped for anything that she means it this time.

“Jazzy, do you want to play UNO before school? I want a rematch!”

“Can't, bud. I'm broadcasting this morning. Remember I told you I have that important meeting next week? I have to get ready for it.”

“Fine. But you owe me a game. No, you owe me ten games. I'll beat you all ten!”

I laugh and ruffle his hair. “You're on. But I'll be the winner. I'm onto you and your cheating ways!”

Danny narrows his eyes, little fist waving, but he smiles when I kiss his head.

“What interview do you have?” Mom asks, swirling the syrup on her plate with the fork.

I sigh. I've only told her about the internship a million times. She never listens. But I'm not going to argue again. If she wants
to pretend we're a normal family, I will go along with it. Who knows, enough playacting and it may even come true.

“The WYN60 Get Up and Go morning show. Ms. Hudson has some good contacts there and if I can get an internship, along with all the stuff I do for the station at school, it would look really good on my college applications. I'm hoping for a scholarship.”

“Oh. That sounds good…” Mom trails off, looking out the window again.

Why is she so strange? God.

“Yep. I'm excited.” I rinse my plate in the sink. “But I have to get to school and get everything ready for my morning segment. You can tune in if you want. Today, I mean, or anytime really. It's 1620 AM.”

“Oh yeah? I'd like that. Hold on, let me write the station down.”

“Can I hear too?” Danny asks. “I never get to hear Jazzy on the radio.”

“You're already at school when I'm on,” I answer. “But maybe we'll find a way to record it sometime, okay?”

“Fine.” Danny pouts. “But we're going to play UNO tonight, right? It will be a tournament. And no cheating. I mean, I don't cheat but you can't—”

Danny's speech cuts off suddenly and I spin around. His head is turned as if he's listening to something. I run to his side and squat in front of him, checking his eyes.

“Danny!”

He blinks rapidly. “What's wrong, Jazzy?”

My eyes cut to Mom. “Was it me or did something—” I stop, clamping my lips together. He doesn't need any more worry.

She nods sharply.

“Danny, do you feel okay?” I try to keep my voice as calm as possible.

“Yeah, duh! Gotta get my backpack!” He dashes out of the room.

“What was that?”

Mom shakes her head. “I'm not sure, but it didn't look right, did it?”

“I'm worried,” I say. “It looked like he was going to go into one of his partials. Maybe he should stay home?” But I know as well as anything that we can't keep him home for every almost-seizure. He's missed enough school for the real ones. “I guess he has to go. Maybe I shouldn't go to Frankie's today. I can reschedule.”

“It will be fine.” Mom's eyes lock on mine. “I'll be here. I promise.”

Worry swirls in me but I decide to try to believe her. To try and trust. I kiss Danny goodbye and leave for school. Unease follows me like a storm cloud, but I figure I have all day to decide about going to Frankie's.

E
VERY TIME MY
phone rings or the intercom goes off, I jump in my seat, sure there's some horrible update about Danny having a seizure. By the time the final bell rings, I'm starting to believe he really is okay, at least for today. Maybe this morning was a fluke. He got distracted. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with his epilepsy.

When the final bell rings, I head to the radio room to get my backpack, which I forgot there this morning. I text Frankie to let her know I'll be a few minutes late meeting her outside.

Sebastian is coming down the back hallway. Ugh. Just what I need.

I give him a nod and try to scoot past him without stopping to talk. Fat chance.

“Jasmine!” He is way more overexcited to see me than he has been in a really long time.

“I'm kind of in a rush. Can it wait?”

“Not really.”

I glance at my phone. Frankie's waiting. “Fine. I have like two minutes. What?”

Sebastian's eyes soften, his dark brows drawing together. “I miss you, Jasmine. Why can't you forgive me?”

I contemplate. “I forgive you. Happy?”

His eyes light up, hope filling his face with that look that turns his features from hard and severe to soft and innocent. Boyish. It's the look that always made me feel special, like it was reserved just for me.

“But,” I say. “We're still over.”

His face falls again. “But I was always there for you. With your family. Your brother. We were good together. I made a mistake. Why can't you accept my apology?”

I roll my eyes. “You were there for me, and I appreciate that. But when you weren't with me, you were with someone else.”

“Are you perfect? Do you never make mistakes?”

“Not like that, I don't. And it was such a mistake that you changed your online status to single, like, the second we broke up? Yeah, I can tell you were so heartbroken.”

“That's not my fault! Alexa changed it, I swear.”

“Alexa changed it? Really, Seb? That's the best you've got?”

“It's true! She had been begging me to break up with you, but I didn't want to. I loved you so much. I do love you!”

“Had been
begging? Had been? How long had she been begging Sebastian? Just how long exactly had it been going on?”

All the details I'd been questioning to myself, all the scenarios I'd imagined. Maybe it's even worse than I thought.

Sebastian goes hospital-sheet white at his slip up.

“It's over,” I say. “I don't even want to know the details. I'm past this Sebastian, I'm moving on, and I'm finding happiness in my life now. I refuse to go backwards. I want to surround myself with people who are worthy of my time. You are no longer on that list. Sadly, I'm not sure you ever deserved to be. So go back to
Alexa.
Does she know how hard you're trying to win me back? Is she plan B? Or did you really think you could play us both again?”

His face falls in defeat. “It's not like that.”

I pat him on the arm. “It's been real. Bye.”

I walk away as smoothly as I can, even as the hurt tries to tug the scars on my heart open.

By the time I get outside, I find Frankie walking on the curbs like they're balance beams, arms out, tightrope-style.

“Took you long enough!” She calls across the lot, pushing the button to unlock her Jetta. “What's wrong? Is it the DJ Big Dee thing?”

My heart drops. “What DJ Big Dee thing?”

Frankie looks into the tree branches above me and rearranges her bangs. “Oh… Nothing. So what's wrong?”

“No. What did you mean by that? What's up with DJ Big Dee?” My stomach swirls into a tornado, bile creeping up my throat. I look over the top of Frankie's car. Her face crumples as if she's in pain.

“I heard a rumor. But it could totally be fake. I mean, I didn't hear it myself or anything.”

“What was it?”

Frankie lets out a big breath. “She announced on her show this morning, supposedly. That she's a finalist for the Get Up and Go internship.”

“Great. Just great.”

I could throw up.

“I'm sorry. But whatever. They haven't met you yet! You will blow her away. Come on, let's go. Anyway, what's wrong? What was that sad look you had when you came out of school?”

“Sebastian,” I say as I drop into the front seat of her car. I picture DJ Dee walking into the WYN60 building every day. Ugh. I shake my head to clear the image.

“No he didn't,” she says. “What did he want?”

“I miss you,” I say in a mocking voice. “We were good together. Forgive me.”

“And you said?”

“Screw off? More or less.”

Frankie pats my knee. “Atta girl.”

I call Mom on the way, who assures me Danny is home and had his medicine and seems totally like his normal self. Frankie pulls into her driveway less than five minutes later. We raid the kitchen first and after settling on a bag of spicy Doritos and a huge bottle of water, we head to Frankie's room. Frankie's mom does a lot of work at their church and the whole family volunteers at tons of events, so she has lots of cute but professional looking dresses and stuff.

I try to ignore the sick feeling about DJ Big Dee and my conversation with Sebastian as I try on pretty much everything in Frankie's closet. I end up with a really pretty purple sheath dress that makes Frankie squeal and clap and almost fall off her bed.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect!”

I spin around in front of her full length mirror. I admit it does make me feel pretty confident. “Maybe this dress will be my lucky charm.”

“You don't need a lucky charm!”

I put a hand on my stomach and look at myself from the side. “You sure I don't look fat?”

Frankie rolls her eyes. “You, fat? You're crazy!”

“I ate my weight in ice cream last night.”

“After the fight?”

I'd filled her in about the fight with Mom during first period, but hadn't gotten to the details yet about meeting Wes at the park.

“I may have met up with a certain new friend who happened to bring me lots of ice cream to cheer me up?” I watch in the mirror as my face turns about three shades of red. Behind me, Frankie's mouth drops open. I pull the dress over my head quickly and pretend to be completely occupied with changing back into my clothes.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is not the face of a girl who is only friends with a boy.” Frankie rolls onto her back and kicks her legs in the air like she's riding a bike. “Oh my God, I want details.”

I pull my shirt over my head and smooth a hand over my hair. I grin, knowing I can tease her a little bit more. “I really should get home.”

Frankie jumps off her bed and scoops my flips flops up in her hand. “The hell you're leaving.”

I drop down on the edge of her bed. I know better than anyone that a determined Frankie is unstoppable.

“Fine.” I cross my arms. “What do you want to know?”

Frankie raises her dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “I want to know whatever that little smile of yours is dying to tell me.”

“What smile?”

“Nuh uh,” she says. “Don't even try to deny it. Best friends, remember? Now spill.”

I take a deep breath before launching into the story of Wes. I fill her in about all the stuff I haven't told her yet. It's not like I was exactly hiding things from her, because I normally tell her everything. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of stuff with Wes yet. But getting it all out now sends little flutters through
me. When I finish the tale of last night's ice cream cheer up, she smiles.

“He sounds great,” she says.

“He
is
kinda great. That's what scares me.”

“What are you guys doing this weekend?”

“No idea.” I motion to her to hand me my shoes. “I'm going to take it slow, though. I don't know if I'm ready for more guy drama.”

“Why drama? Who says there would be any with Wes? If you ask me, that little smile says you're more than ready for Jasmine and Wes to be a thing. I think you like him. Like
really
like him.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, give me my shoes. If you don't mind, I need to get home. Just because Mom made pancakes doesn't mean she's going to make dinner.”

“Right.”

“What?” I laugh.

Frankie snatches her keys and follows me out of her room. “I'm onto you, Torres.”

“Glad to know nothing has changed, then.” I'm still laughing when we get into her car.

T
HE NEEDLE SCRATCHES
on the record.

Stepping into the kitchen, the sound is unmistakable. I close the back door behind me. Frankie beeps as she pulls away.

I crash.

The high of the afternoon with Frankie, of last night with Wes…

I hear that stupid needle scratching and see Mom passed out and I just feel like someone has punched me in the face, kicked me in the stomach.

Dropping my backpack by the door, I trudge across the room. After I turn off the record player, I toss the empty bottle of vodka in the garbage.

What did I expect? I'm an idiot, a completely gullible idiot for expecting anything to change.

I go to wake my brother from his afternoon nap. His homework folder is on the kitchen table, his worksheets already complete. Huh. I guess she did something right today.

Whatever.

“Hey Danny,” I say as I knock on his door.

His bed is rumpled and empty, but his feet poke out from his closet alcove, where he usually sets up and plays with his action figures. He slumps over the lot of them, snoring softly. Okay, this is definitely not a normal place to fall asleep. I sink to the floor and watch his steady breathing, wondering. Hoping he didn't have a seizure.

Danny sleeps a lot. His medicine makes him super tired. But he almost always naps in his bed or even sometimes on the couch. He doesn't usually fall asleep while playing with his toys, and certainly never sitting in his closet.

Of course there's no way to know what happened. And no way to know what he was doing or for how long. And considering things seemed off with him this morning…