The Gossip Web (6 page)

             
As I laid happily on my bed, flipping through the latest Wonder Woman comic book, (Yes, I’m a big comic book fan) I heard the front door open and slam shut, the click of heels following after it. I sucked in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I was just imagining things. But when she said my name, I knew my day was about to get a lot worse.

“Jade?” Erika called from the living room; the echo of her voice bouncing off of the quiet walls. I kept still, hoping that if I remained silent she wouldn’t find me and would eventually leave. Although, it had never worked before and it wasn’t about to now.

             
I watched her tall form enter my doorway. She had a few shopping bags around her arms, and when she approached me she wore a smile that meant business. “Hello, Jade,” Erika greeted me cheerfully.

             
“Hi,” I replied dully, looking her up and down.

             
This just wasn’t fair. Every Wednesday, when my father was forced to stay late at the restaurant, Erika came over to cook for me. It was a constant annoyance that I wish I could worm my way out of---but my dad insisted that she and I have some one on one “bonding time”. He had no clue that Erika and I weren’t on very good terms; she and I had never really bonded. It was rare for us to even agree on a subject, let alone have an entire conversation, and our dinners together usually consisted of us eating in complete silence. She always tried to get me to speak, but I always refused to. I don’t know why she kept trying. 

             
Erika walked closer towards me and asked, “What would you like for dinner? I was thinking maybe pasta or a stir-fry? I know I’m not as great of a cook as your father is, but I can try.”

             
Rolling my eyes, I covered my head with a pillow and replied, “Actually, Erika, I’m not that hungry.”

             
“Oh come on, Jade. You’ve got to eat. Maybe we could just order a pizza or Chinese take-out?”

             
“Fine,” I sighed, wishing for her to just leave me alone. Which she did, after badgering me with a thousand questions about what I wanted from the restaurant, and if I needed this and that. She really was a pain.

             
Unfortunately, the Chinese arrived way too fast and I found myself staring across the table from Erika while she ate her beef lo-mien. Even the way Erika ate was graceful---delicately twirling the noodles with her fork, not a drop of soy sauce staining her face. I rolled my eyes at her obvious perfection and shoveled as much chicken and broccoli I could into my mouth, eager to finish my meal before she tried to make small talk. But alas, I wasn’t that fast of an eater.

             
“So, Jade, tell me about your day,” she said cheerfully, smiling as she spun a fork full of noodles on her plate.

             
I don’t know why, but for some odd reason, I felt the urge to tell Erika about my problems. The words were on the tip of my tongue, and I had to bite my lip to keep them from rolling out of my mouth. I wondered if it was because I wasn’t able to talk to Heidi about everything earlier. She was spending time with her father and his family tonight. Heidi absolutely dreads going over there---her dad has a strict rule about cell phone use when she’s visiting him. I guess I could have it worse, having two different families and all, but then again, her mother didn’t abandon her for some traveling salesman.

             
“Well?” Erika’s sweet voice interrupted my thoughts, but I didn’t reply; I just kept on eating. My silence didn’t satisfy her and she watched me with a frown as I ate.

             
“Please, Jade. Can’t you at least try to talk to me?”

             
I sighed irritably when I caught her observing me with her fork in mid-air. Finally, I couldn’t take her surveillance anymore, and I blurted, “What do you want from me, Erika?”

             
Setting her fork down, she replied calmly, “Just to talk with you.”

             
“Why? How come it’s so important for you and I to have a conversation when we both know that we don’t like each other.”

             
Erika appeared genuinely shocked by what I said. “What do you mean? I like you, Jade.”

             
I shook my head, irritated by her lies and obvious denial. Shoving back from the table, I told her, “No you don’t. But it doesn’t matter---I mean, why should it? I’m just your boyfriend’s kid.” I picked up my plate swiftly and took it into the kitchen, dropping it into the sink loudly.

             
Trekking back to my room, I slammed the door behind me, leaving Erika at the table alone. I didn’t care if I had hurt her feelings, or if I had just made our relationship worse. She was the least of my worries as I thought about Trace. I replayed our fight over and over in my head. What would happen now I wondered? How would my days at West Haven be now that Trace was lost from my life?

             
I was positive that he wanted nothing more to do with me after today. I couldn’t blame him though, not after all the drama I had caused in front of the student body. It was sort of funny that I still wanted to be with him even after everything he did to me and all the horrible things he had said. I’d blown everything today though, just by opening my stupid mouth. I know that I said I never wanted to see him again, but I don’t think I could handle that torture.

             
Rolling onto my side, I reached eagerly for one of my pillows; I squeezed it to my chest tightly, wishing it were Trace. Oh Trace, what do I do now? Closing my eyes, I refused to cry as I fantasized about him. I saw his face in mind and I imagined his touch. How in the world could I get over him? Grasping the pillow tighter, I realized I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do, because no matter what happened between us, I would be in love with Trace Gibson forever.

             
I sighed deeply, realizing I was foolish for still loving someone who had tossed me aside so carelessly. That first day of ninth grade when I saw Trace standing on the steps of West Haven High, I couldn’t believe it was actually him. I remember being so happy he was back that I mindlessly ran up to him, holding back the urge to wrap my arms around his waist. I had so many questions to ask him, and so many things to say…but when I called out his name, Trace overlooked me coldly and turned his back on me. He didn’t even say hello before he hurried up the rest of the steps and into the school. I was absolutely devastated by his cruel demeanor, and for the rest of the school year, Trace acted as if I didn’t exist. Then he started hanging out with Gloria…

             
Why should I still love him? Why should I even care? Trace obviously didn’t. If he could erase me from his life just like that then…I frowned, trying to calm my flaring temper. I had to stop revisiting the past. It wasn’t good for me to dwell on such negativity. Besides, Trace had said he wanted us to be friends again today, didn’t he? He seemed sincere. I should just accept his olive branch and start over with him. That’s what I wanted to do, right? I bit my lip and nuzzled my pillow, wondering what I actually wanted.

             
The answer was so simple---not as complex as I made it out to be. Trace Gibson had been apart of my life since grade school, and I have loved him ever since I can remember. I wanted him, even if he had hurt me countless times before. I was hopelessly and foolishly in love with Trace, and there was nothing he could do to stop that love. Even if he hurt me over and over again I would still love him. I closed my eyes painfully, realizing I was setting myself up for more heartbreak. Trace may want to be friends with me again, but that didn’t mean he felt the same way I did… and I had a horrible feeling that he never would.

8

             
I TRIED TO PRETEND
like Erika didn’t bother me for my father’s sake---because he seemed to care about her so much. The truth was, however, that she really irritated me. Sure I disliked her because of the whole “taking my mother’s place” issue, but that wasn’t the only reason. It just didn’t seem right that he could jump into a relationship so quickly with another woman. The way my mother left was awful, and I understood why he would want to forget about her and move on with his life. Though, even if he denied it, I knew that somewhere deep inside of him he still loved her.

             
When my mother first left, he could barely talk, let alone eat. He would sit alone in the living room with all of the lights turned off, staring at the television screen and never saying a word. I usually had to plead with him to get off of the couch and go to work. My mother had hurt him so badly when he first found out about her and that salesman. She had deceived both of us, putting up a façade for so long. I didn’t even know she was having an affair. I couldn’t tell. She seemed the same mother I’d always known, but she wasn’t…and apparently she hadn’t been for a very long time.

             
The affair began when my mother wanted to start an at home business. She was going to build websites for companies and different organizations for a small fee. My father was against the idea at first, assuring her that she didn’t have to worry about making money. She told him that she didn’t want to do it for money---that she was tired of being just a housewife and wanted to accomplish something with her life. It was the first time Mom seemed blatantly unhappy, and after a few weeks of arguing and door slamming she finally got her wish.

             
It was a rocky start for her in the beginning, but when the third month of being in business rolled around, my mother finally saw some profit. That’s when Dad started to see the light too. Mom seemed so pleased---and of course he didn’t mind having extra money to spend---but mostly my dad was just glad that she was satisfied with what she was doing. I was happy for her too, and I thought she was doing a great job. It was when she landed a contract with a juice company that she met the traveling salesman.

             
His name was Craig Wakers, and he went door-to-door selling cheap computer equipment from a catalog. The man gave her the same pitch he gave our neighbors, but they were smart and turned him down. My mother, on the other hand, didn’t give a second thought about it when she let him inside our home. She always was a bit naïve when it came to strangers.

             
She bought a mouse, a laptop case, and three USB drives from him. When he asked if he could come around again in a month, she said yes. So he came back again, and again, and again, until it was a daily habit of his. I would go to school, my father to work, and Mom would wait by the door for him everyday. She lied to us for so long, and we never even imagined she was capable of something like that. It wasn’t until the dreadful day my father forgot his favorite apron that her secret became known.

             
When he walked inside the house he saw the suitcase on the table, a pair of men’s shoes that weren’t his sitting neatly by the door, and my mother’s blue robe lying carelessly on the living room floor. My father lost it, but that’s putting it lightly. He almost killed the guy, and by the time I got home, my mother was packing her things while my dad sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, refusing to say a word.

             
I demanded to know what was going on, and my father didn’t spare me any details. Unfortunately, he told me the whole gruesome story and I remember thinking that I wished I had never asked. After learning the truth about my mother’s unfaithful escapades, I asked him, “Dad, can’t you work this out?”

             
“I told your mother to choose between us and that…that man,” he replied, very solemnly.

             
“Which did she choose?” I pressed my father, scared by his unsettled appearance.

             
He looked me square in the eye, and I noticed that his eyelids were red and puffy. After taking a deep breath, he said, “She didn’t choose us, Kiddo. I‘m sorry.”

             
I think that was the first time I’d ever seen my dad cry. Maybe there was one other time he cried…I think at my grandpa’s funeral, but that was a long, long time ago. While I gazed at his distressed features, I knew that this was tearing him apart. He seemed completely detached as he sat there at the table, studying his hands with a mixed expression of sadness and hate. I couldn’t help but wonder how he let this happen---how he could just let her leave us. Was the love between them gone? It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be gone.