Vegan Virgin Valentine (20 page)

Graduation was looming around my head like a swarm of mosquitoes. I’d finally written my speech, a two-page, double-spaced piece of crap filled with clichés. I just couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to do anything better. But it was so pathetic that I made James tear up the graduation ticket I’d given him and swear he wouldn’t set foot in the gym on Friday morning.

The
Brockport Post
sent a reporter over to the house to interview me about being valedictorian. We sat on Adirondack chairs in the backyard. Me, the reporter, my mom, and my dad. V was at the picnic table on the other side of the yard, hunched over a textbook. She’d been studying obsessively for finals. I’d barely even cracked a notebook.

“How does it feel to be graduating first in your class?” the reporter asked me. He had a gap between his front teeth and an Adam’s apple that journeyed up and down like an elevator.

I looked over at the neighbor’s cat, pressed low against the grass, inching toward his invisible prey at a painstakingly slow pace.

“It feels exhilarating,” my dad said after a moment.

“All her hard work has really paid off,” my mom added.

“Can I quote you on that?” the reporter asked.

“Oh, yes, of course,” my mom said.

As my dad gave him the spelling of both of their names, I watched the cat take off at full speed, only to halt, baffled and empty-mouthed a few feet away.

On Wednesday afternoon, as I was walking out of my last final, Travis caught up with me. “Was that first essay a cakewalk or what? It was so obvious, I couldn’t believe it. How do you think you did?”

“Are you serious?”

Travis smiled. “Come on, Valentine, tell me how you did.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“For old times’ sake?”

“I don’t want to,” I said, walking faster.

We headed out the side door, toward the student parking lot. It was glaringly hot, one of those energy-draining afternoons, but I wasn’t about to slow down.

“Come
on
,” Travis said. “Just tell me how you did.”

I reached into my bag for my sunglasses. “Will you
stop
asking me that?”

“You know, you’re a real bitch sometimes.”

“Well, you’re a real asshole
all
the time.”

“Whoa!” Travis threw up his hands in that universal gesture of innocence. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t want to play that stupid grade game anymore.”

“Oh, you mean just because you kicked my ass for valedictorian, you’re too good for me now?”

“It’s not about that,” I said as I unlocked my car door.

“Yeah, right. You won. Game over. Just admit it, Valentine. If I beat you, I’d probably do the same thing.”

I didn’t even answer him. I closed the door, waved goodbye, and drove over to Common Grounds. James wasn’t there, but he’d left a note with the girl working the afternoon shift, saying he’d put a tall plastic cup of Famous McCloskey Chamomint Iced Tea in the fridge for me. I found it, poked a straw into the top, and crossed the street to Lift Bridge Book Shop.

I was browsing in new fiction, looking for some summer reading, when a familiar voice said, “Hey, Mara.”

I glanced up. Claudia had chopped off most of her hair, and the inch or two that remained was dyed platinum blond with reddish stripes.

“Didn’t recognize me?” she asked, smiling.

“No … I’m just… You look great.”

“Thanks.”

I was about to issue the apology I’d been preparing in my head for so many months when Claudia said, “Can I talk first?”

“Sure.”

“I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“
You’re
sorry? I’m the one who owes
you
an apology. That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you, but Pauline—”

Claudia shook her head. “I wasn’t ready to hear it. And I definitely wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that I owed you an apology, too.” Claudia ran her fingers through her coppery spikes. “This is hard for me to say, but I sensed the chemistry between you and James for a long time. I kept thinking if I tried hard enough, it would go away, and he’d like me instead. But that’s not fair to you or James or even to me.”

My throat was feeling tight. “I still shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”

“It’s not like I gave you any other choice.”

Neither of us said anything for a second.

“Aren’t you wondering why I’m still in Brockport?” Claudia asked. “The college let out over a month ago.”

I nodded. The plastic cup of tea was dripping with perspiration, so I wiped my fingers on my skirt.

“I’m staying here all summer,” Claudia said. “I’m living with my boyfriend on Union Street.”

“Boyfriend?”

Claudia smiled. “His name is Lee. He’s into existential philosophy. I don’t know what he’s talking about half the time, but he likes me back, so that’s the most important thing. And you’re going to love this… Guess how we met?”

“How?”

“The Internet!”

“Really?”

“Brand-new redhead seeks available man to paste together her broken heart. Must have a generous bottle of Elmer’s glue and no one else you’re interested in.”

My eyes were tearing up. “I’m really happy for you.”

“So … are you and James still together?”

I nodded and looked down at my sandals.

Claudia traced her finger along the spine of a book. “This is hard for me to say … but I’m happy for you, too.”

I started crying. Claudia began crying, too. We both just stood there, smiling and crying and shaking our heads.

Finally, Claudia wiped her eyes. “Former Common Grounds employee seeks current Common Grounds employee for hanging out this summer.”

My mouth was dry, so I sipped some iced tea before saying, “I like walking on sandy beaches, eating candlelit dinners, and renewing friendships that almost fell apart.”

“Me, too,” Claudia said quietly.

And then we both started bawling again.

Graduation was scheduled for Friday morning at nine. I set my alarm for seven. When it went off, I could hear my parents chatting and listening to the weather report. But a few minutes later, as I stumbled into the kitchen, they were nowhere in sight. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat on the tall stool. That’s when I noticed the note on the cutting board.

I set my glass in the sink and headed upstairs to V’s room. Her door was open, but she was wrapped like a dumpling in her sheet.

“Wake up!” I yanked at the blinds, so light flooded into her room.

V rolled over and looked at me, a comatose expression on her face.

“Come on,” I said. “Wake up … quick!”

“What’s going on?”

“I need you to come with me.”

“Where?”

“For a drive.
Come on!
We don’t have a lot of time.”

V wriggled out of her sheet and wobbled a little as she stood up. She was wearing an oversize T-shirt. She reached down to the floor, picked up a discarded pair of boxer shorts, and pulled them on.

“Great,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“You’re just going to wear that?”

I glanced at my old terry-cloth nightgown. The straps have stretched over time, and it’s hemmed for someone considerably shorter than me.

“Here.” V scooped up a tank top and a pair of cut-offs. “Put these on.”

V turned away as I zipped the shorts. Then I tossed the nightgown on her bed and pulled the tank top over my head. It was the hot pink one that proclaims
I’M JUST A GIRL WHO CAIN’T SAY NO,
but I didn’t have time for a wardrobe change. We had to scram before my parents got home.

We ran down the stairs and I grabbed my car keys off the top of the microwave. Out of habit, I shoved my cell phone and my driver’s license into my front pocket.

V looked like she was still in dreamland as I pulled away from the house and turned onto Chappell Street. But once we’d driven over the canal, she rubbed her eyes and said, “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. A drive. A long drive.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at graduation soon?”

I shook my head. “I’m not going.”

V rotated her entire body toward me. “You’re joking, right? You can’t
not
go.”

We passed a gas station. There was a sign out front that said
CONGRATS, GRADUATES!

“Is it because of me?” V asked.

“It’s because of a lot of things.”

“I broke a school rule. I got in trouble. You shouldn’t skip graduation because of that.”

I didn’t respond. V settled back into her seat. As we drove farther out of Brockport, the manicured front lawns gave way to cabbage fields. My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down. My dad. I pushed the “cancel” button and stuffed it back in my pocket.

I drove until we reached Hamlin Beach State Park. There wasn’t anyone collecting money at the gate, so I headed through and pulled into the nearest parking lot. V and I got out of the car and walked toward Lake Ontario. We were both barefoot, so we stepped carefully around some shattered glass. My cell phone rang again. This time it was my mom. I didn’t answer.

V and I stood next to each other, facing the immense body of grayish blue water. It was so vast, I almost felt like it was surrounding me, like I was part of it. I thought about a quote I came across as I was attempting to write my valedictory address, something about how in order to discover foreign lands, you have to get lost at sea for a long time.

My cell phone rang. My dad this time. It stopped ringing. And then, just as I was about to put it back in my pocket, he tried again.

I stretched my arm behind me and threw my phone about thirty feet out. It was still ringing as it landed with a splash and disappeared beneath the water.

V giggled nervously. “Okay … did you really just do that?”

I waved bye-bye to the water.

“Maybe another day,” V said, “we could come out here, and I could throw in my … you know … my smoking stuff.”

“Really?”

“I think I’m ready.”

As we stared out at the water, I thought about how I’ve come to love V in a way that’s not just obligatory family love. I can tell she feels that way about me, too. I’ve never told her about my conversation with Mr. B. Just like how she’s never told me that she stood up for me to Dr. Hendrick. But it doesn’t matter. I’m learning that not everything has to be verbalized and analyzed and categorized.

“Are you really sure you don’t want to go to graduation?” V asked.

I shrugged. “I just feel like it’s all for show. For someone else’s show. Like it’s to make my parents happy and to make Mr. B happy and to prove I’m better than Travis. I don’t even factor into the equation.”

“Of course you do,” V said. “You’ve earned this. You’ve worked hard, and you’ve done an amazing job. So maybe your parents are happy. Okay, so maybe they’re elated. But Mr. B and Travis are just morons. They don’t matter in the end. This is
your
show, Mara. You’ve earned this day.”

I flicked at a pebble with my toe. “There’s not enough time to get there anyway. I’d have to go home, take a shower, put on my graduation dress—”

“What time did your phone say before you…” V pantomimed flinging it into the water.

“Eight-twenty-three.”

“Let’s say it’s almost eight-thirty. How long would it take to make it to the high school?”

“Twenty-five minutes. Twenty minutes if I drove fast.”

“So you could get to the ceremony just in time.”

“But my hair’s a mess and I’m barefoot and I’m wearing your
cain’t-say-no
tank top. And how can I show up at graduation without a cap and gown?”

“You’re valedictorian. You don’t need a cap and gown to tell anyone that.”

“I don’t even have a bra on.”

“You don’t—”

“No need to ram
that
point home,” I said, laughing. “What about my speech? I don’t have my speech with me.”

“You hate your speech. You said so last night. Why don’t you just wing it … say what’s on your mind?”

“What about my parents? They won’t know to come over to the high school.”

“Are you kidding? I bet you
anything
they’ll be there, hoping for the best. And, besides, you’ll have to drop me off before you reach school premises, so I’ll walk home and make double-sure they know.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You really think I should do this?”

“Yeah, I really think you should.”

“Well,” I said. “I guess I
cain’t
say no.”

V cracked up. I glanced at the lake one more time. And then we hurried back to the car on the balls of our feet, careful to avoid any glass or sharp rocks.

As I screeched out of the parking lot, V screamed, “Yahooooooo!”

I laughed and rolled down my window and gunned it back to Brockport.

My warmest thanks to: My wonderful editors, Deborah Wayshak and Mara Bergman. Jodi Reamer, my agent and tireless champion. Everyone at Candlewick and Walker, for caring so much. Karen Bokram, my editor at
Girls’ Life
, for whom I first discovered Mara Valentine. Dar Williams, who wrote the song “After All,” which was an inspiration while I was working on this book. The village of Brockport for hosting this—purely fictional!—story. My stepsister, Michelle Seidman, who read the first four chapters and pointed me in the right direction. My parents, stepparents, parents-in-law, stepparents-in-law, and all those variations of siblings, for making me feel so loved. A special thanks to my grandmother, Betty Dalton, with whom I share a love of words and books. And my deepest gratitude to my husband, Jonas Rideout—thank you for everything.

Shannon
– best friend. Stutters. Just moved to Walla Walla, Washington (of all places) so her father can study onions.

Froggy Welsh the Fourth (real name!)
– “carnal friend”. Plays trombone. Got his hand up Virginia’s shirt but was unable to negotiate bra fastening.