manicpixiedreamgirl (8 page)

Sydney grasped my hand as we walked out of English together and gave me one of her big smiles. “So, where do you want to sit during lunch?” she asked.

I almost came to a complete stop but managed to keep it to an awkward stumble. “Sit?” I said. Because I’m cool like that.

“Don’t you eat in the cafeteria?” Syd asked.

“Uh … yeah,” I said. “With Robby and Justin.”

“Cool,” Sydney said. “Is it okay if I come with?”

There was, of course, only one answer to that. “Sure,” I said.

“Great!” Syd said. “I’ll see you then.”

After chemistry, I met Syd at the doors to the cafeteria. Admittedly, I did enjoy watching all the incoming freshmen look around the cafeteria like it was a slaughterhouse, eyes wide or pretend-narrowed for toughness. I was coming up on sixteen, and somehow managed to be nostalgic for fourteen.

It didn’t occur to me until then that Syd and I hadn’t sat together before. Maybe she didn’t like Robby and Justin, maybe she already had a special place she liked to sit, or maybe she didn’t want to look all committed and possessive. I don’t know, and I never asked.

We got our lunches and found Robby and Justin sitting
at the table we’d occupied last year. Only this time, they each sat beside a girl, and not the ones I’d met—correction, seen—last year at the mall.

And Becky sat at her same table as well, on a corner. Also alone. Well, alone in the sense that no one was talking to her, anyway; she had empty seats on her left as well as across from her, but there were other people at the table. Freshmen, I thought.

But at least she was facing me.

Or would have been, had I grabbed the seat I’d intended to.

“Hey, what’s up, Pink Floyd?” Robby said as Sydney took the seat I’d been aiming for.

“Nothing much,” Syd said. “Who’s Pink Floyd?”

Justin snorted and shook his head, taking a big bite of his hamburger.

“Nothing, nothing,” Robby said. “Hey, man, are you going to sit or what?”

It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. And that I was, indeed, standing.

“Yeah,” I said. And sat across from Sydney, my back to Becky. The instant my ass touched the seat, I thought,
You wanted me to sit this way, didn’t you?
And for no reason—no legitimate reason—I got utterly and completely furious.

“Hey, so this is Staci,” Robby announced, smiling broadly and gesturing to the girl next to him.

“Hi!” Staci said to us.

“Michelle,” Justin said, waving his burger absently at the girl next to him.

Michelle, looking none too thrilled with this introduction, smacked Justin across the shoulder. Justin cowered sarcastically before laughing with his mouth full.

“Hi,” Sydney said, immediately friendly. Of course. “Sydney. I don’t know what the whole Pink Floyd thing is all about.”

“Nobody does,” Michelle said. “Robby’s always got some—”

“Why don’t you look it up?” I said, my jaw barely moving.

Michelle paused. “Look … what up?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” I shoved a French fry into my mouth and chomped it to death, but I have to say, fries just don’t have that anger-satisfying crunch.

“Are you okay?” Syd asked me softly.

“Oh, I’m just
ducky
.” It was this thing my mom said when she was mad.

Syd stared at me for a second, then picked up her tray. “Okay. I think maybe I’ll eat outside today.” She stood up. “Nice to meet you,” she said to the girls, and walked through the cafeteria to the exit, tray in hand.

The other four turned to look at me.

“What’s your deal?” Michelle said.

Still pissed, and I mean righteously set to deck someone, I eyeballed her and said, “I’m sorry, you matter because?”

“Whoa,” Justin said, but very quietly.

“Ex-
cuse
me!” Michelle said, and stood up.

“Hey, man …,” Justin said to me.

“What?” I said, louder than I meant to. I think. “She your girlfriend now? It’s the first day of school—how’d you even meet her? Huh?”

“Dude,” Justin said, frowning.

“You’re an
asshead
!” Michelle declared.

“Jerk,” Staci added.

I turned to face Staci. “Did we have a class last year?” I asked her.

“Maybe …”

“I thought so,” I said. “Have you gained weight since then?”

Staci gasped and covered her mouth. She bolted up and away, with Michelle squealing after her.

Gotta say—it felt good.

Until my two friends zeroed in on me.

“Wow,” Robby said calmly, folding his hands on the table, quite possibly in an effort to keep from tearing my jaw off. “That was impressive, Ty. Now do you mind, please, explaining to us what the almighty holy fuck just happened here?”

I tried not to. I really, really tried not to. But I looked over my shoulder before answering.

“I dunno,” I said as the anger drained out of me. Becky sat reading a book, but I couldn’t see the title. I wanted to get up and go ask her what it was.

Justin turned his head too, to see what I was looking at.
When he figured it out, he said, “Wait a sec. Are you still crushing on that chick?”

“Looks that way,” I said.

I faced our table again and saw that Robby had relaxed a bit. “What about Syd?” he asked. “Did you just break up here or what?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I tossed another fry into my mouth. It was already cold. “Sorry about the girls.”

They both shrugged. “Just met ’em,” Robby admitted. Then he laughed and picked up my hamburger. He took a huge bite and put it back on my plate. I guess that made us even in his book.

“Did you gain weight,” he said, shaking his head. “That was awesome.”

I’m still debating chucking my cell when I get another text. This time from Gabby.

Congratulations on the pub! Also, you’re a dick. :)

So’s your face
, I write back. It’s an inside joke of ours. No matter how ridiculous or plain a sentence might be, we always follow it with “So’s your face.”

Gabby sends another text.
Why didn’t you tell me?

I text back as I walk slowly toward the table.
It’s no big deal
.

LQR is a huge deal
, Gabby writes.
And you really hurt Syd. Idiot
.

I stop short. Even though Robby and Justin are all of ten
feet away and arguing loudly about who the world’s best lead guitar player is, I barely register them. Gabby’s text glares from my screen.

I don’t know what to write back. I didn’t
mean
to hurt Sydney. And I’d love nothing more than to argue with my sister, come up with some plausible deniability, but Gabrielle’s no liar. If she says Syd is hurt by the story, then it’s true.

What did she say?
I write.

Nothing
, Gabby writes.
She didn’t have to. Fix this, bro
.

I wander back to the table. Justin has the champagne bottle upended over his red Solo cup and is slapping the base for the last possible drops of alcohol.

“So, how’d it go with ol’ Pink Floyd?” he asks, and laughs.

“Shut up.”

“I don’t wanna tell you your business or anything,” Robby says. “But …”

“I know, I know, I know, okay?”

I sit on the bench beside Justin and hold my head in both hands. I’ve got the vague whisper of a headache starting behind my skull.

Robby socks my shoulder. Ow.

“It’s not fair, man,” he says. “To Pink Floyd. You can’t drag her around like that.”

I don’t say anything.

I didn’t tell Syd about running into Becky that first day of
sophomore year. I wasn’t trying to deceive her or anything;
I mean, it wasn’t like I’d hooked up with Becky. Syd
had asked me not to talk about Becky anymore, so I didn’t.

Not even when Sydney cornered me after school.

“Okay?” she asked, falling into step beside me as I trudged toward the bus stop. “You calmed down now?”

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t think I was lying about that.

“Want to tell me what the hell happened?”

No answer would be sufficient. I sure couldn’t tell her the truth, and I wasn’t a good enough liar to come up with anything convincing.

“Bad day,” I said. Which I suppose was the truth.

“Well, you hit Staci pretty hard,” Sydney said as we turned left toward the parking lot. “She’s had eating issues.”

Okay, that honestly did make me feel bad. I’d pulled the “gained weight” comment out of thin air; I hadn’t recognized Staci at all.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t tell me, tell her,” Syd said. “You can tell her this weekend when me and her and Michelle go out for coffee.”

“You’re going—what?”

Sydney nodded. “I caught them on the way out of the cafeteria, trying to get away from
you
, in fact, and we had lunch together. And made plans.”

Perfect.

We’d reached the parking lot. I’d need to cut left and follow the sidewalk to the east side of the school for my bus. Sydney always got a ride from her dad, but they lived in the complete opposite direction from me.

Sydney and I stopped together on the sidewalk. Over her shoulder, I saw Becky Webb coming out of the drama department and heading for the parking lot. She stopped and sat down on the curb, in her usual spot. I’d watched her all last year sitting or standing there, always getting picked up by that flashy SUV.

“So will you?” Syd asked.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Becky. Was it just me, or was she specifically avoiding looking in our direction? Like she
knew we were standing there and didn’t want me to know she knew it? Probably not … but maybe …

“Tyler?”

“Hmm? What? Yeah. Okay. Wait, do what, now?”

Sydney shook her head, leaned up, and kissed me once on the lips. “You’re hopeless,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d man up and apologize to Staci and Michelle on Friday night. I wouldn’t turn one down, myself, but, you know. Whatever.”

“I’m sorry,” I said right away. “Really.”

“Thank you.”

At that moment, a red sports car squealed into the lot and rocketed between rows of parked cars. The driver damn near executed a one-eighty skid to pull up to where Becky was waiting. Syd and I both watched as Becky brought her hands to her hair, as if frustrated, and got into the car. Before the door had even closed, the driver took off, spraying loose rocks onto the sidewalk and earning no less than three middle fingers from various students in and around the lot.

“Wow, asshole,” Syd commented as the car disappeared down the same street the SUV used to take last year.

“Right,” I agreed. I wanted desperately to know who the driver was. Her mom? Dad?

Boyfriend?

Syd turned back to me. “So just give me a call Friday night. I’ll let you know where we end up.”

“How am I supposed to get to wherever you are?”

“Just tell Gabrielle,” Sydney said. “She loves me.”

Couldn’t argue that point. And Syd knew about Gabby’s deal with my parents: she got a car but also had to agree to be my taxi on the weekends.

“There’s my dad,” Sydney said. “You sure there’s nothing you want to talk about? About today at lunch? Or anything that happened before lunch?”

That’s when I knew. I saw it in her face. She knew I’d talked to Becky that morning. Or at least suspected.

“Nope,” I said. “I’m good.”

Her dad pulled up to the sidewalk. “Okay,” Syd said, kissing me again. “See you tomorrow.”

I waved to her dad, who gave me a little salute thing back. Once Syd was in the car, I turned and headed for my bus.

“Hey, muchacho,” Robby greeted me as I sat beside him. “It’s the first day back, and already this bus thing is getting old. We need a car.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, staring out the window.

“Right,” Robby said, and put on his headphones. “Say no more, brother.”

One great thing about Robby: the guy took a great hint.

The next day, I passed Becky in the hall again. Turned out we’d be repeating this encounter every day because of where our respective second-hour classes were located. She’d be on her way to math; I’d be on my way to chemistry.