If You Only Knew (11 page)

“I do?” I asked. I banged my feet against the under-sink cabinet and tried to choose.

“Yes,” answered Colette. “Hurry. Daddy left a message that he’s coming home at six and I want to be gone.”

“Um . . .” I couldn’t think what about myself to emphasize. My behind was getting wet from the counter. I had ripped off Colette’s trouble-making brown Ace-bandage of a T-shirt and snuggled into Big Blue as soon as I got home. It felt like comfort.

Anne Marie came in and took a mascara out of the medicine cabinet. Colette asked her, “Do you think Zoe’s eyes or her mouth? To emphasize?”

“Eyes,” Anne Marie said. “Zoe has the best eyes in the family.” She leaned toward the mirror to apply her mascara.

“How they
look
?” I turned to examine myself in the mirror. I never really noticed how my eyes looked before. I thought when they say all the time that I have the best eyes in the family, they meant my vision.

“Makeup?” Anne Marie asked me.

I shrugged. “Nothing better to do.”

Colette was spreading eye shadow on my lids when the doorbell rang. Bay yelled, “Hey, Zoe! CJ’s here!”

“CJ? Come up! We’re in the bathroom.”

As CJ climbed the stairs, Anne Marie asked me, “Do you like somebody?”

“Somebody likes her, that’s what I think,” Colette told her. “She won’t admit it.”

Anne Marie blinked her eyes and mumbled, “I gotta borrow that shirt sometime, Colette.”

“It wasn’t the shirt!” I yelled.

They both backed away a step. CJ pushed open the bathroom door slowly. “Zoe?”

“Come on in.”

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“No.”
Free as could be, that’s me.

“Because I could come back another time. I should’ve called.”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s up?” Colette and Anne Marie were still staring at me for yelling. I never yell. I prayed they wouldn’t mention it in front of CJ.

“He asked me out,” CJ said.

I guess I jumped because the eyeliner Colette had started stenciling me with made a jagged track down my face. “Zoe!” she complained, but I didn’t care.

“What? When?”

“Just now,” CJ said. She was trying so hard not to smile, she was frowning. “Before. He called me on the phone.”

Devin pushed open the door and it slammed into CJ, who was catapulted toward the bathtub. Our bathroom is not huge; in fact, it’s pretty cramped for just two people, but lots of times we all jam in. “Oof,” CJ said.

“Sorry,” said Devin, heading for the toilet. She pulled down her pants and started to pee. I noticed CJ blushed and looked away. We have no qualms in my house. You can’t.

“That’s OK,” CJ mumbled toward the bathtub.

“Who asked you out?” Colette asked as she wiped eyeliner off my cheek.

“Tommy Levit.”

“Tommy Levit?” Anne Marie asked. “I used to baby-sit them.”

“He grew up,” I said. I hate when she acts so adult. Please.

She pointed at my sweatshirt. “You ever wash that thing?”

“It’s Big Blue,” I explained.

Devin shook her head. “She never washes it. She’s afraid it will disintegrate. It’s her security blanket, practically.”

“That’s like you with Old Yellow,” Anne Marie taunted Devin.

“Yeah, Devin,” I said. She used to sleep in Old Yellow every night. It faded so much it wasn’t even yellow anymore, just old.

Devin shrugged. “Maybe, but by seventh grade I was into boys, not sweatshirts, thank you very much.”

“Give Zoe time,” Anne Marie said. She took some blush and asked, “What are you doing tonight, Colette?”

“Staying out of Daddy’s way.”

“Good,” Anne Marie said. Colette and Daddy hadn’t crossed paths yet, and that was fine with everybody.

“Indeed,” said Colette. “I was gonna hang out at Matthias’s house.”

“Matthias?” asked Devin, flushing the toilet. She pushed between Anne Marie and Colette to get to the sink. “You mean Matt O’Donnell?”

“He changed it,” Colette said, weakly.

We all cracked up. “To Matthias?” I asked.

“Please,” said Anne Marie. “Of all the pretentious . . .”

“You could call him Thigh Master for short,” I suggested. I was happy to put Colette into the spotlight, rather than me and whether I liked boys or sweatshirts. Can’t a person like both?

“Hey,” Colette said. “You watch it, Zoe. Take a look.”

I turned toward the mirror and blinked a few times. I looked older. It was hard to know for sure if I liked it. I do have nice eyes, I noticed.

“Has anybody seen my mascara?” Mom yelled from her room. Colette quickly closed the mascara and shoved it into the medicine cabinet.

“No!” we all yelled.

CJ smiled. “It’s so fun, here.”

Devin smudged on some concealer and left. On her way out, she warned Colette, “It’s five-thirty.”

“I know,” Colette said. She quickly brushed some blush over my cheeks.

“You can just leave it at that,” I told her.

“It’s OK.”

“It really doesn’t matter how I look, anyway.”

“You look good,” CJ said. “Different but good.” She perched on the edge of the bathtub.

“How did you get here?” I asked. “Is your mom downstairs?” I was picturing my dad coming home early with Colette still up here and a great big Grandon family blowup performed especially for Mrs. Hurley. Not what I wanted at all.

“No,” CJ said. “I was so excited, I just had to come tell you. I rode over on my bike.”

“It’s like five miles!”

She shrugged. “I had to tell you.” She shivered a little in her flimsy T-shirt. You can see her collarbones, she’s so thin. They made me mad. Skinny girls get the boys. Graceful, cute, sweet girls who are so good they’ll ride five miles in cool weather to tell a friend exciting, terrible news. It made me hate her again.

He liked me, not you,
I thought. “I’d last longer in the North Pole than you,” I said.

“What?”

Of course, CJ had no idea why I was annoyed with her pretty, skinny little self.
Get over it, Zoe. He liked you. You made a choice. And she is a good friend. Your best friend. Be happy for her.

“Like you’re kissing,” Colette instructed me.

“As if I knew how,” I answered.

“Someday,” Anne Marie said.

“So, CJ,” I said, puckering, “Tell us what happened.”

CJ smiled. “He called and asked me, over the phone.”

“Verbatim,” Anne Marie said to CJ.

“What?”

“Tell us every word,” Anne Marie explained.

CJ looked thrilled. My lips were cramping.

“He said, ‘Hi, CJ?’ and I said, ‘Yes,’ and he’s like, ‘It’s Tommy,’ so I go, ‘Hi,’ and he’s like, ‘You want to go out with me?’ and I’m like, ‘OK,’ and he goes, ‘OK, see you Monday.’ That’s it!”

I looked down at my fraying shoelace and said, “That’s great, CJ.”

Anne Marie leaned against the counter. “Romance lives.”

“What did you say to him, Zoe?” CJ asked. “You must have said something on the bus.”

“I hinted,” I said, and closed my eyes.

“You are such a good friend,” CJ said.

Colette pushed my face from side to side, checking me. “You’re gorgeous,” she said. “And I’m out of here.” She slammed her makeup kit closed, blotted her own lips, and said good-bye.

“Thanks!” I looked in the mirror at myself. I looked like I needed what Mom would call a good scrubbing.

Anne Marie said, “Well, I should study.”

“She must be really smart,” CJ said after Anne Marie left.

“She is,” I whispered. “But she’s not studying. She’s looking out her window at the empty driveway, waiting to see if Chris Boyne comes by.”

CJ nodded, knowingly. “We’re all nuts, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Except you, thank goodness.”

“Right,” I said. “Let’s go to my room. You want to stay for supper? Because I’m not going bowling or anything, I’m just staying home, and Colette went out so, I mean, she usually sits next to me, if you want.” I didn’t add, and it’s less likely Mom and Dad will fight if there’s a guest.

“I can’t,” CJ said. She sat down on my bed and shivered. She looked so frail, hugging herself, that I took off Big Blue and tossed it to her. “Thanks,” she said, and put it on. “Is it true, what they were saying about this sweatshirt?”

“No problem,” I said. I took a red sweatshirt from my drawer. It’s not silky like Big Blue, but it’s still nice.

“It’s so soft,” she said appreciatively.

I nodded. Maybe I am growing up. It only bothered me a little to see her in it. I sat down on Devin’s bed.

“Hey,” she said. “Here’s the other thing, and you can say no if you want. But I was thinking, I have ballet tomorrow but would you want to go on Sunday to Sundries and, if you want, get those friendship rings? With me?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, sure.”

She stroked Big Blue. “I’ll never take mine off.”

“Me, neither,” I said. “Will Morgan be mad?”

She shrugged. I shrugged, too.

“Great.” She stood up. “I should go—my mother doesn’t even know I left and she’d kill me. I’m not supposed to ride my bike and take a chance of getting hurt, this time of the ballet season. I might really just quit. She drives me nuts. You didn’t tell anybody, did you?”

“Of course not,” I said. “You can trust me.”

“I know it.” She started taking off Big Blue.

“Wear it home,” I offered. “It’s getting cold.”

“You sure?”

“Give it to me Sunday,” I said. “Or you could keep it for a while, if you want.”

“Thanks.” She rolled up the sleeves. “Hey, did you say anything to Jonas about Morgan?”

Give me back my sweatshirt,
I thought, but I smiled and said, “I didn’t get a chance.” I honestly don’t think it would be such fun, her and Tommy and Morgan and Jonas, all going out. I imagined them walking in pairs down the corridor, past our lockers, and up the plank onto Noah’s ark. I don’t think Noah let any best friends join the couples for the ride.

“Well, whenever.” CJ bounded across the room. “See you Sunday. It’s so exciting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

nineteen

I
stayed in bed the next morning
until my stomach’s growling became unbearable. The smell of Daddy’s pancakes overwhelmed my plan to hide under my covers for the rest of my life. I pulled on the red sweatshirt and some socks and skidded down to the dining room.

“Well, the dead walk,” Mom said. Her hair was already done and her makeup was all on. She looked pretty.

I sank into my seat next to Colette and then realized—hey! She’s here, he’s here. She’s eating his pancakes. Nobody else seemed to be noticing, but then again there was food on the table and in my family, we are serious about eating. Dad placed three perfect pancake circles onto my plate, and Bay passed me the syrup.

“Did you have fun last night?” Anne Marie asked Mom. Mom and Dad had gone out to the movies, just the two of them. Usually they go with a group of friends, anytime they go out.

“Yes,” Mom said, happily. “We even went out for ice cream, afterward. Like a date.”

Across the table, Bay rolled her eyes. We all ducked lower over our plates. It’s embarrassing when they act like teenagers.

“Who wants more?” Dad asked. “Anne Marie?”

“A small one,” she said.

“Bay?”

“Sure.”

“Devin?” He skipped her, I thought. He skipped Colette. What does it mean?

“OK,” Devin said. He served her. I could feel Colette constricting in the seat on one side of me and Mom holding her breath on the other.

“Zoe?”

I held out my plate.

“Colette?”

“No thanks,” Colette said.

Now nobody was breathing. A hunk of pancake weighed down my tongue.

“OK,” said Dad. He lowered the pancake on his spatula to the plate. “OK.”

“Maybe a small one,” Colette said.

Dad smiled and found a quarter-sized one, which he placed on her plate.

Colette mumbled, “They’re good.”

He nodded. Mom looked like she’d won the lottery. She poured me so much juice it almost overflowed my cup.
Hooray, hooray,
I thought—
they’re making it through breakfast. Please.
But at the same time, I guess I felt relieved, too. Mom says you have to celebrate the small victories. I gulped down my juice.

After breakfast I went back upstairs and snuggled into my unmade bed. When Devin came in, she screamed. So I screamed, too. She screamed again.

“What?” I was shaking.

“You gave me a heart attack!” she complained. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” I reminded her.

“It’s ten thirty,” she argued. “Are you sick?”

“No.” I rolled over. There was no wallpaper for me to pick at, since we just have paint, so I spelled out
T-O-M-M-Y
in tiny letters on the wall with my middle finger.

“You’re not going over to bug Tommy?”

“Nah.” I stopped making letters, in case Devin could read it somehow.

“What are you doing today?” she asked.

“Not budging.”

“All day?”

I shook my head. She sat down on the edge of my bed. I thought about telling her to go away but instead I made room for her.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked. “Tommy.”

I nodded.

“Well?” Devin asked. “Does he like you, you think?”

I pulled his note out from under my pillow and handed it to her. I listened to the crinkling of the paper as she unfolded it. She screeched and hugged me from behind, then asked, “But what about CJ? Didn’t she say last night that . . .”

“I fixed him up with her.”

“After he gave you this?”

“She’s my best friend.”

“Congratulations,” Devin said, standing up. “The hormones have kicked in.”

I thought about that. “You think?” I rolled over to see Devin nodding. I sat up and gathered my blanket in my lap. “How long does it last?”

She shrugged. “Pretty intense, huh?”

“Please,” I said. “I mean, one minute . . .”

“Right, and then the next, boom!”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “I love him. Suddenly I’m this total lunatic, thinking about him—I can’t stop. Did you ever notice how cute his dimples are?”

“Uh-huh. But . . .”