Normalish (12 page)

Mixed Emotions

Chad called as Mom and I were about to start
Rebel Without a Cause
with James Dean and Natalie Wood.

“Hey, Stacy. Sorry about earlier.”

“No problem,” I lied. I mean, it was fine. He didn’t want to make horrible Vanessa feel insecure, I get it.

“The mall was chaos,” he said, apologizing.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know what the mall’s like on Black Friday?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I should’ve known better. I was just wondering how Becca’s doing.”

“Oh. Wow.” I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting his thoughtfulness, but then that’s the kind of guy he is. “Um, she’s doing really, really well. Saw her today, as a matter of fact. We played pool.”

“Pool?” he laughed. “You suck at pool.”

“Thanks, Chad. I really appreciate your support.”

“I’m kidding. Trying to make you laugh is all. I’m glad she’s okay. It must suck to have her gone.”

The word “gone” depressed me again. I sighed.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Sorry, Stacy.”

“I know.”

Why
does Chad have to be so nice? (Well, except for the mean comment about my sucking at pool.) But why does he have to be so caring about other people? And why does he have to be so handsome
now
? Why couldn’t he have waited until his braces were off
before
he made his move? Or maybe I was finding him so attractive because he was with horrible Vanessa?

All of these things rolled around in my head, and I felt a twinge because I knew he was really just calling to be polite, asking about Becca. Or maybe he wasn’t, but then there was still horrible Vanessa, and it was all confusing, and I just wanted to get off the line.

“Chad, I’ve gotta go. My mom’s waiting for me to start our movie.”

“Oh, okay. Talk to you later.”

He seemed a little disappointed that I ended the call, but maybe that was just wishful thinking?

Since I’d already made up my mind I was going to stay away from guys, I decided to leave Chad alone for a while. The last thing I needed was another hopeless crush.

Mom and I sat with our popcorn, our licorice, our Dr Peppers and watched a movie about some seriously messed-up teenagers and the adults who just didn’t understand them.

Bobby And Jimi

After work (at my job!), Roman took me to see Becca.
While we were waiting for her to come out, the girl in the Hello Kitty T-shirt (she was still wearing it) walked up to us and stood there with her eyes wide open and a big smile on her face. Roman was too shy to say anything, but I wasn’t.

“Hi, I’m Stacy,” I said as I put my hand out to her. She shook it enthusiastically, pumping it up and down. The glitter bracelets on her wrist jangled together, and her eyes were wide, like two moons. She seemed like she was probably around Becca’s age, even though she dressed younger. I waited a few seconds for her to say something, but she just stood there looking at me, smiling.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Katie!”

“I like your ring, Katie. It’s very sparkly.”

She wore a purply-pink stone ring with little specks of glitter. After I complimented her, her eyes grew even wider than before.

“The glitter’s real!”

“Really? Huh. I would never have thought that. You know, there’s a whole section of the Natural History Museum that’s nothing but rocks and gems.”

Her eyes were now the size of silver dollars, so I continued, “Yeah, you should go sometime. The gemstones are really beautiful. Unique. Some of them look man-made, but they’re not.”

Katie was practically beside herself now.

“What will the Earth think of next?” she asked as if expecting an answer.

“Um, I…don’t…know?”

“There’s definitely some Earth magic going on there, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Yes, there definitely is.”

Roman wandered off while I conversed with Katie a little while, discussing the rare occurrence of frogs raining down from the sky—something I’m not familiar with at all—but Katie saw it on some documentary. It seemed like a normal enough conversation though, and luckily Bobby rescued me before it got any stranger.

“Hey, Stacy! Good to see you again.”

He put out his hand and shook mine. His hair was hanging over one eye, and his jeans were full of holes, riding low. He dressed a lot like Roman, but that’s where the similarities between them stopped.

“Wanna play a game?”

“Sure,” I said. Katie’s shoulders slumped, and she frowned, clearly disappointed.

“We’ll talk later,” I promised her. She was smiling again and remained in the same spot as Bobby and I walked away.

“We can work on your technique a little bit today,” Bobby said, flashing that amazing smile as we walked over to the pool table.

“Technique. That’s funny. I didn’t know I had any.”

“Uh, you don’t,” he said and laughed. “That’s why we’re going to work on it.”

“Makes sense to me,” I said. (It actually didn’t make sense, but this guy had a smile that could make me want to work on my technique for a
very
long time.)

He taught me how to line up by taking just a second or two longer before I made my shot. It was hard not to get distracted by his tattoos, but I did my best, and after we played our game, as we sat together talking at the little table and chairs over by the window, I asked him to hold out his arms so I could trace the outlines with my finger. I’m not usually so touchy with someone I barely know. It was kind of strange. I was intrigued with how intricate the designs were and how they blended in together. There was a yin-yang symbol and Chinese lettering, flowery swirls, Jimi Hendrix on the inside of his arm, and about a thousand others.

“Didn’t it—all of these—hurt?” I asked. I can’t even stand getting a shot at the doctor’s.

“Of course,” he said with a laugh.

“Where’d you get the money for all of these? I’m guessing not your parents, right?” (I really can’t believe how nosy I am sometimes. It’s kind of shocking.)

“Heck no. No, Junior and Ralph—my buddies—own a shop close to my house. I started hanging out so much, they started giving me jobs to do. Sweeping up, washing windows. Grunt work. Pretty soon, they were doing my tattoos. Free.”

Me: mouth open.

“Yeah, I got the first one when I was fifteen. My parents just about killed me.” He laughed again.

“I’m sorry, Bobby, but you’re nuts. There’s
no
way I could do something like that.”

Fifteen. My mom would be beside herself. I’d be grounded for life, for sure.

He told me the story behind some of the tattoos. Jimi Hendrix was kind of obvious, but I asked anyway.

“So, big Jimi Hendrix fan?”

“I play guitar. Jimi’s a god.”

Yeah, I know all about Jimi Hendrix. From the time I could walk, my dad was playing
Purple Haze
on his guitar. Loudly.

“You know, Bobby, if my dad were still alive, I think he’d adopt you.”

And Bobby just grinned at me, and I melted a little.

It sounds absolutely insane, but I was having a good time with him—the guy who lived at my sister’s residential treatment facility. The four of us played pool together: Bobby and me on one team, Roman and Becca on the other. Then Bobby and I watched as Becca and Roman sat with their sketchpads, drawing anything and everything that came to mind. It was weird. We were all so—what’s the word? There’s this feeling that I’ve felt before; it’s kind of hazy though. Could it be
happy
? Yeah, that’s it. We were happy—almost silly—the four of us. “The four of us.” That sounds funny, like we’re
something
.

The whole holiday weekend, we hung out. We just sat around—Becca and Roman, me and Bobby—during visiting hours. Bobby would casually wrap his arm around my shoulder, and I’d feel warm and floaty inside, like I was being drawn into his world. I’d watch him laugh, his great laugh where he opens his mouth wide and just really
laughs
, practically doubling over. It’s a contagious laugh, and I’d start laughing too.

We laughed together. Me and my new friend Bobby.

That Happy Floaty Feeling

We haven’t kissed yet, Bobby and me
, but I’ve been thinking about it. Kissing him. I mean, there’s this tiny part of me, like two percent, that’s saying
No, don’t do it
. But the rest of me wants to be alone with him where we can really get to know each other, where he can just
kiss me
.

But then I think about how he’s a senior like Becca—too old for me. He’s such a
man
, and I’m such a
kid
. But still, there’s this connection we have. A strong connection. There’s something there, and I want to figure out what it is.

At Brookside

The two of us sat at the little seating area by the window
, and Roman showed us a quick sketch he’d drawn of us playing a game of Go Fish. It was a very good likeness. Roman’s really a talented artist. Then while Roman and Bobby were deep in conversation—Bobby was having Roman design a sketch for his next tattoo—Becca motioned for me to follow her.

“Stacy, come here a second. I need to get something.”

And she took me down the hall, past the front office, toward where the bedrooms are, out of earshot. We were standing in the hallway outside her room, and she looked like she was trying to think of the right words to say.

“Look, Stacy, I don’t mean to be mean or overstep, but…you
need
to be careful with him.”

“Becca, I don’t get it. He seems fine, like there’s nothing wrong at all.”

“I told you, he’s got issues.”

“But what
kind
of issues? I don’t understand. He seems normal—just like anyone else—to me.”

And I didn’t. I really didn’t get it.

“Okay,” she said, “the thing is, I know things about him. I’m not allowed—I mean, we’re not supposed to really
talk
about what goes on in Group, but I hear things.” And she looked hard at me, staring deep into my eyes. “This is important, Stacy. His family isn’t like ours. His dad’s a total dick. They don’t get along at all. It’s a very messed-up situation. Just don’t let yourself get too close to him, that’s all.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Stacy. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Okay?”

She gave me a very serious look.

“Becca, don’t
worry
about me,” I said, trying to reassure her.

When our visiting time was up, Bobby came over and gave my shoulder a little squeeze.

“See ya, beautiful. Gonna come see me again soon?”

“Of course. You
know
I will. There’s still a few tattoos you haven’t told be about.”

And he shot me that big smile of his, and I felt my stomach do a little flip.

At home, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He consumed my thoughts, but I couldn’t talk to anybody about him. I couldn’t just tell my friends that I had a boyfriend in a residential treatment center for people who aren’t
normal
. And if Mom knew, she’d freak.

Not that he was actually my boyfriend. There
should
be an agreement, right? But I wanted it to happen. I was ninety-eight percent sure I wanted Bobby to be my boyfriend.

I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, at the little press-on, glow-in-the dark stars that Becca and I had put up years ago, and I wondered:
How did I get here
? How in the world had I found myself drawn to a boy like Bobby? But then, I never would have thought Becca would end up in a place like Brookside either. Everything feels different, like I’ve changed somehow, like I’m different than I was a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago I hadn’t met this sweet, kind person who treated me like I was something special. But then I met Bobby.