Parallel Parking (13 page)

“But he obviously isn’t, because he likes her,” Mads said.

“Exactly,” Lina said. “It’s totally Catch-22.”

“Cut the wheel to the right,” Holly instructed.

Mads tugged the steering wheel of Holly’s VW.

“To the
right,”
Holly repeated.

Was there a note of impatience in her voice?

Mads tugged the wheel the other way. They’d been at it for an hour now, all smiles at the beginning, but the tension was rising
between them. Mads wasn’t any closer to mastering parallel parking than she’d been when they started. She had lost all ability
to tell left from right, front from back, gas from brake, drive from reverse. Her head was a muddle of anxiety, driving instructions
and rules and tips slam-dancing in her brain, completely useless.

And being with Holly didn’t help. Every time she looked at Holly or heard her voice, she thought of Sean. And felt that pang.
It wasn’t easy to focus on driving when you were in constant pain.

“Now cut the other way,” Holly said. “Left, left! Harder!” She grabbed the wheel to help Mads out. Flustered, Mads let go.
Her hands dropped into her lap. If Holly wanted to do it herself, let her.

The car bumped the curb. “Mads, what are you doing?” Holly cried. “You can’t just drop the wheel! You’re supposed to be steering!”

“You had it,” Mads said.

“But you’re the driver!” Holly said.

“Then why were you doing the steering?” Mads asked.

“I was trying to help you,” Holly said.

Neither said anything for a minute. Mads could hear her own breathing, and Holly’s, over the running motor. She couldn’t look
at Holly. The space between the two of them felt full of electric energy. Mads was afraid that any move into Holly’s space
would give her a shock.

“Okay,” Holly said. “Let’s take a deep breath and try one more time.”

Holly took a deep breath. Mads did, too.

“Pull up to the starting point again,” Holly said.

Mads shifted the gear and stepped on the gas. The car zoomed backward and rolled over the curb.

“Stop!” Holly yelled. “The brake!”

Mads slammed on the brakes. The car stopped in the bushes.

Mads glanced at the gear. It was in reverse.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was trying to go forward.”

“This lesson is over,” Holly said. She didn’t raise her voice, but Mads could tell she was struggling to keep her cool. “I
guess I’m not much of a driving teacher. Either that or—“

She stopped. Mads looked at her, daring her to say whatever it was she wanted to say.

“Or what?”

“Or you’re unteachable,” Holly said. She got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Lesson over.

To:     hollygolitely

From: your daily horoscope

HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: You feel as if you’re walking on eggshells lately, but you’re not; you’re walking on
thin ice.

M
ads, I’m sorry.” Holly phoned Mads that night to apologize. “I shouldn’t have called you unteachable. Of course you’re teachable.”

Mads’ teachability wasn’t the real issue, and they both knew it. Holly hated the way that every conversation with Mads was
awkward now. Guilt gripped her stomach at the sight of Mads, at the sound of her voice.

It shouldn’t be that way
, Holly thought. They were
friends, after all. They couldn’t let little things like boys and driving come between them.

“It’s okay,” Mads said. “I’ve ended up fighting with every single person who’s tried to teach me to drive. So don’t worry
about it. It’s just another driving tiff.” She sighed. “I’m completely hopeless. I’ll never learn how to drive. I’m going
to have to get rich so I can hire a chauffeur.”

Mads was letting her off the hook. “That’s crazy, Mads,” she said. “You’ll pick it up. It just takes practice. Once you get
it, it clicks, and then it’s easy. You’ll see.”

“But why is it taking so long for me to click?” Mads asked. “Everyone else seems to catch on so much more quickly.”

Secretly Holly agreed. Mads had one of those minds that just wasn’t meant to operate large machinery.

“Everyone struggles with it, Mads, believe me,” she said. “You’ll get it. But you need to relax. You’re too tense in the car.
That’s what’s causing you trouble.”

“I know,” Mads said. Awkward silence. “What are you doing tonight?”

Holly hesitated. This was a loaded question. “Nothing,” she said.

“You’re not seeing Sean?”

She was seeing Sean. She had a date with him that night. But she resented having to tell Mads about it. “We
might hang out in town for a while, see what’s up,” she said. “Nothing big.”

“Oh. Well, have fun,” Mads said.

Did Holly detect a note of anger in Mads’ voice? Sadness? Resignation?

“What are you doing?” Holly asked, hoping it was something good. That way she wouldn’t have to feel so guilty.

“I have to babysit Audrey. My parents are going out. Big thrills.”

Not good. The guilt gripped Holly’s stomach tighter. She tried to keep any sign of it out of her voice.

“Fill me in later,” Mads said.

“I will,” Holly said. “See you.”

“Check this.” Sean stopped at a basketball court, all lit up for night games, in Fortuna Park. A gang of high school guys
were playing a fiercely competitive pickup game and a small crowd had gathered to watch.

Holly and Sean had parked in town and were walking around with no real agenda in mind. At some point they were going to get
something to eat—soon, Holly hoped. She was looking forward to a cup of Zola’s oyster chowder. But Fortuna Park lured Sean.
It was a small recreation area a few blocks from the Marina, with
basketball, tennis, and handball courts, picnic tables, and a gazebo.

The boys sweated and fought over the ball, making hotshot plays and shooting from halfway across the court. Sean watched,
mesmerized.

One of the players turned around and called, “Dude, get in here.” It was Sean’s friend Alex. “We need a ball hog.” The other
guys laughed.

“For sure,” Sean said. He took off his sweater and handed it to Holly. “Be right back.”

He trotted onto the court and was soon in the thick of the game. Holly couldn’t help admiring him as he played. He was a graceful
athlete but gritty, snatching the ball from the opposing players and making impossible-looking shots. The spectators shouted
and clapped. She could tell that people were rooting for him, even people he didn’t know.

Soon he was soaked in sweat. He took off his shirt. There were a few whistles. Holly caught her breath. His chest was slim
but well-muscled. A thing of beauty.

“Hold this, Holls?” He tossed his shirt to Holly. It landed in her lap, wet. She gingerly spread it on the bench beside her
to dry.

“Could you move that thing? I want to sit down.”

Holly looked up to find Mads’ sister Audrey standing
behind her. She was licking an ice cream cone and watching the boys.

“Holly! Hey!” Mads, with a cone of her own, was right behind her sister. “Audrey, you’re so rude.”

“It’s okay.” Holly hung Sean’s shirt on a parking meter. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were fighting at home, so we biked into town for ice cream,” Mads said.

“It’s the only thing that can keep us from fighting,” Audrey said.

“We were just wandering around, seeing what’s up,” Mads said.

Holly wondered if this was really a coincidence, or if Mads had dragged Audrey into town to look for her and Sean. After all,
she knew they’d be in town that night, and it was a small town. If you were looking for somebody, it usually didn’t take long
to find them.

Then Holly felt that guilty grip in her stomach again.

What are you thinking? Why are you so suspicious? So Mads keeps turning up when you’re on a date with the love of her life.
A girl can’t go out for ice cream?

Sean did a fancy dribbling move and a high, leaping layup.

“Yea!” Mads cheered and clapped. “Go, Sean!”

“This is boring,” Audrey said. “Can we go now?”

“We just got here,” Mads said. “Finish your ice cream.”

“I am finished,” Audrey said. “I want to watch the
Desperate Housewives
that we TiVoed before Mom and Dad get home.”

“It’s her favorite show, but they won’t let her watch it,” Mads said to Holly.

“Too many adult thee-emes,”
Audrey said, mimicking her mother in a singsong voice.

“Just five more minutes,” Mads said.

Audrey turned to face away from the court. “Those boys are all sweaty. I’m sick of looking at them!”

“I know what you mean, Audrey,” Holly said. The game was winding down, but Sean was still showboating and soaking up the attention.

“Well,
I
don’t,” Mads said.

“Mads, if we don’t leave right now, I’ll tell everyone you’re a bed wetter,” Audrey said.

“What? I’m
not
a bed wetter!” Mads cried. “And I haven’t been since I was three!”

“So? Once I put it out there, it’s as good as true.”

“Do you believe her?” Mads said to Holly. “This is what I have to live with every day. Total treachery.”

“I’m going to do it,” Audrey warned. “I’ll stand right in the middle of the court, stop the game dead, and say it. One… two
…”

“Oh, all right, let’s go,” Mads said. “I hate to give in to blackmail,” she told Holly. “But the horrible truth is, she’d
really do it.”

Audrey smiled sweetly. “Buy me another ice cream for the ride home.”

“Forget it,” Mads said.

“One, two…”

Mads dragged Audrey away. The rest of the crowd was dispersing, too. The basketball players had dwindled to three-on-three.
But Sean was still playing his heart out.

I thought we were supposed to be on a date
, Holly thought. Her stomach growled. She was longing for oyster chowder.
I’ve spent more time with Mads and Audrey tonight than with Sean. He’s totally ignoring me!

At last the other guys decided to quit. They took the ball with them, so Sean couldn’t practice foul shots or anything.

“Hey,” he said to Holly. “You hungry?” He was panting, sweaty, and dirty. She’d almost thought he’d forgotten about her.

“I’m starving,” she said.

He picked up his shirt, which was still damp. “Hmm… Guess I can’t really go into a restaurant like this,” he said. “You know
what they say: No Shirt, No Shoes, whatever.”

He was right; even if he put his shirt back on, he wasn’t presentable. “What should we do?”

“Let’s go back to my house. I’ll shower and change, and we can take another stab at it. What do you say?”

There wasn’t much choice. “Okay. But I’m really hungry.”

“You can fix yourself a snack at my house while I’m cleaning up,” he said. “Do you like anchovy pizza?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ve got something else in the fridge.”

They drove to his house. It was dark. “My mother’s at some kind of meeting,” he said. “They usually go out afterward and she
gets home late.”

“Oh.” Holly checked the fridge and grabbed a yogurt. Sean flipped on the TV. A basketball game was on.

“I forgot about the play-offs,” he said, staring at the screen.

Holly gave him the evil eye until he looked up.

“Right. I’m supposed to be showering.”

He left the TV on and went upstairs. Holly sat down and flipped to another channel. She wondered if Audrey had managed to
squeeze in an episode of
Housewives
before her parents got home.

Sean came downstairs a few minutes later, in clean
clothes, his hair still wet. “What’s the score?” He picked up the clicker and changed back to the game. He sat on the couch
next to Holly. Her stomach growled again. That yogurt had only made her hungrier.

“Can we go eat now?” she asked.

“You’re really starving, huh? I’m hungry, too,” he said. “You know, it’s getting late. Why don’t we just stay here and eat?
You’ll get your food quicker that way.”

“I guess….” It was more romantic to go to a restaurant than sit in front of the TV and watch a basketball game, but Holly
was up for whatever.

“Sure.” He got up and went into the kitchen, which she could see from where she was sitting. He opened the freezer. “I’ll
just nuke some mac ‘n’ cheese, and we’re all set.”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese?” Holly said.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it.” So much for oyster chowder.

Sean bustled around in the kitchen. “What do you want to drink? We’ve got Coke, Diet Coke, cranberry spritzer—”

The phone rang. “Here’s a glass. Come get whatever you like.”

Holly got up and fixed herself a drink while he answered the phone. “Hello? Hey there. Actually, I’m kind
of busy right now. Really? You’re sweet. Maybe another time. How about tomorrow night? Homework? You still bother with that?
We’re seniors….”

He was talking to a girl; she could tell. He’d lowered his voice, but she could still hear him.

He hung up and didn’t say anything about who it was. It was none of her business. Still .…

“Dinner will be ready in literally twenty seconds,” he said.

She took her cranberry spritzer back into the den. A computer sat on the desk, screen glowing. She glanced into the kitchen.
He was busy getting plates and napkins. She walked over to the computer, just to see what was on the screen.

His e-mail account was open. She just read the subject lines and whom the messages were from.
From: bambi, re: hey, hottie! From: leelee, re: next weekend. From: nola, re: tried to call you
…

Girls, girls, and more girls. Well, who could blame them?

“Ten, nine, eight,” he counted off from the kitchen. The microwave dinged. She hurried back to the couch.

“Love that mac ‘n’ cheese.” He came in carrying a plate of macaroni, a napkin, and a fork and set them on the coffee table.
“That’s for you. Need anything else?”

“No thanks.”

He returned a second later with his own plate and a bowl of nacho chips. “For a side dish.” He settled on the couch for some
serious basketball watching. Holly started eating.