Sandra gave me a subscription to Cosmo—and a pair of clogs.
I didn’t want them anymore, but I still felt like crying when I opened them. There was so much Sandra didn’t know. What I really wanted for Christmas was for Susan to love me. Even more than that, I wanted a father.
I reached into the shoe box and pulled out one of the clogs. It was beautiful white leather, soft and expensive-feeling, with a wooden sole. I ran my fingertip along the stitching and thought about how I would probably break my ankle if I tried to wear them, just like Sandra had said.
“Am I too late?” Sandra asked.
The Hot Topic Kid
The day after Christmas, I begrudgingly went to the mall to buy a new pair of jeans while everything was on post-holiday sale. I went alone so it would be quicker, but I kept looking around for Susan. I didn’t see her anywhere, and I hadn’t heard from her either.
As I passed Hot Topic, I noticed Kristen Duffy, her arms empty, talking to that weird kid from our school who stood behind the register. I kind of lurked outside, then I full-on went into the store, ducking behind the rack of faux-leather jackets, and saw that Corvis wasn’t with her.
“Your hair is, like, perfectly dyed,” I heard Kristen say to the Hot Topic kid, leaning in a little too close. Today his hair was electric pink on one side and orange on the other. “Could you, um, maybe help me dye mine? I want to change it to green.”
“Uh, sure,” he said, his voice distant. “Or you could buy some Manic Panic, and your girlfriend could help you. It’s not that hard.”
I crouched down further so they wouldn’t notice me.
“Cool,” she said, “but, I mean, Corvis doesn’t really know how to dye hair? Could you, like, come over this week and help me? I want it to be perfect.” Her cheeks reddened, which confirmed that she was flirting. I noticed that her fingernails were painted black, and that she had rings on every finger. Her eyelids were heavily made-up with shimmering gray and pink shadow, her lips covered in a thick layer of purple lipstick. From her neck, a metal chain held a giant beetle frozen in amber.
It looked like it had taken her forever to get ready. She’d seemed confident with Corvis, but right now she looked like a terrified child, her posture liquidy, her shoulders slouching.
“Okay,” he said, picking up on the flirting. “It’s just, you guys seem pretty tight.”
Kristen shifted her weight from one foot to the other, running her hand along the countertop. “Does Tuesday work for you? Anytime you’re free would be cool,” she said, ignoring his comment.
It was winter break, so we didn’t go back to school until after New Year’s.
“I have to check my work schedule,” he said, which meant that he didn’t want to do it. No one works all morning and all night. How did Kristen not pick up on his cues?
All of this seemed wrong, and it grossed me out that Kristen was so needy. I felt a pang for Corvis.
I forgot to buy jeans.
The Morning Shift
I think my dad is losing his mind,” Heather said. “He’s flying right now.”
“On a plane?” I asked.
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “On the wings of dawn.”
We were making coffee at Emmylou’s, and it was very early, before the customers were really awake. It was like a blizzard outside. Emmylou’s should have been closed, but they never closed it down. Even in snowstorms, people needed their coffee.
“Oh, fuck you,” I said. I held a handful of perfect little coffee beans. I liked to hold them. Once, when I was four, I got a coffee bean stuck up my nose and had to have it removed at the doctor’s office. I was sad to see it go.
“He’s taking lessons.” Heather said the word lessons like she could smell it.
“Why?” I asked.
“Why.” Heather smiled crookedly and spun around to look at me. “Well, why did you get that busted-up haircut?”
This was the first time anyone had mentioned it besides Sandra. No one from school who I’d seen over break had said anything at all. In fact, the only consequence of my stupid haircut was that a couple of days later, Bridget Murphy got the same one.
“Because,” I said, “I kind of like it. I can feel the wind now. Half of it anyway.”
“Girl, you’re crazy.”
“I know,” I said.
“Susan still isn’t talking to you,” said Heather, hiking her black shorts. “I know she ignored us at lunch the other day, but whatever happened, I thought she’d be over it by now.”
“She isn’t.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.
“Come on,” she said, placing her hand on my arm. “It’s okay.”
I sighed, and my breath caught on a jag in my throat.
“The other night,” I began, then paused. I really wanted to get this out of me, this secret. “We, um, we did stuff together.”
“What do you mean?”
“We kissed,” I said, looking at my tennis shoes, which were worn in the toe and heel. “We kissed and then we did other stuff.”
“What?”
“You can’t tell anyone,” I said. “It was like . . . she was sad about her dad, and I don’t know. It just kind of happened.”
Heather looked at me for a long time. She didn’t exactly look surprised, and she didn’t look angry either. I couldn’t place the expression on her face. Sadness?
“Why Susan?” she finally asked. “Like, why her over someone else?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Who else?”
“Susan’s just not as cool as you think she is,” Heather said. She hiked up her uniform to show more of her thighs. “Also, why did you kiss Scottie?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t know,” I said, which was true. “I mean, he was there, and I needed something to change. Are you mad?”
“No,” Heather said, smoothing down her top. She pursed her lips, checking her lipstick. “It’s not like I have dibs on him or anything. Half the time I don’t even want to have sex with him.”
I wanted to ask her more about this. I wanted to know why she did it. I started to say something, but just then PJ burst in, her curly hair dusted with snowflakes. I was grateful not to have to answer Heather’s question about why I kissed Scottie, which still hung in the air.