Diva (16 page)

"Who's that?" Sean says.

"Who?" I say.

"Mr. Intensity with the green eyes."

"Oh." I pull my own gaze away from Nick. "My ex."

Sean glances in Nick's direction, and at that moment, Nick looks back. When he sees Sean watching him,

he looks away.

"Why'd you break up?" Sean asks.

I use my pizza crust as a pencil, writing my name in the sand, trying to think of the right answer, the good

lie, like
We drifted apart
or
We wanted to see other people
. Yeah. That one's good. I draw a heart around my name. Nick's about fifteen feet away and the sound of the surf is hard in my ears.

"He beat me up," I say.

Way to kill a party, Cait
. Sean's mouth makes a surprised O. Everyone's does. Gigi looks like she wants to say something, but for once she's speechless. In fact, the world goes eerily silent, except the rock and

roll of the ocean, and I remember sitting on this beach with Nick, less than a year ago by the shadow of

the lighthouse. The beach hasn't changed, just me. Why, why did I tell them, especially Sean? I want this

guy to like me, so I let him see me as a victim? The wind hits my eyes, and I look at Nick. He doesn't look

back. I feel my eyes start to tear up. "Now you all think I'm really stupid."

That's when Sean reaches for me, first one arm, then the other. He pulls me to him. He feels warm and

safe, and no one says a thing for a minute.

I break the silence. "It's not that big a deal."

"It sure is. No one should treat you like that. Sean looks after Nick. "What a jerk. Why do guys do stuff like that?"

I shrug. "He had a rough childhood, I guess." Gigi makes a noise, and Sean says, "
I
had a rough childhood.

That's no excuse. That's just dumb." He looks at me. "Sorry. It's not you I'm mad at."

"I know," I say, though I don't. Not really. "I guess I used to make excuses for him."

Sean frowns. "Well, I'm glad you stopped. You don't need that guy. You don't need anyone."

"Hey," Rudy says. "Anyone want my pepperoni?" He holds a handful out.

"Eww, no thanks," Gigi says.

"I'll take it." Sean releases me to take it.

"I knew you would," Rudy says. "A human garbage disposal."

We stay there the rest of the afternoon until finally, Sean says he has to go home to help Desi make the

solar system out of fruit for school. The whole time I can feel Sean's arms around me, and it's like he's

holding me together.

I'm stalking Mrs. Arnold Mikloshevski—as if she doesn't have enough problems. I'm sitting outside their

house in Mom's purple convertible. I don't know what I'm hoping to see.

Then I see her. She's walking a dog—the yellow Lab I saw last time—and even though I don't know what

I was expecting, she's not what I expected, not a frail society-lady or fat or harsh or ugly. Just a middle-

aged woman. A mom—anyone's mom but mine. I wonder if she knows her husband doesn't love her

anymore.

That's when I start to cry. Sitting there in Mom's stupid, shiny convertible, I cry because my stupid, shiny

mother is ruining this woman's life.

I hear a tap on the window. "Are you all right?"

It's the woman. Arnold's… Mrs. Arnold. I roll down the window. "I'm fine." I breathe hard through my

nose, so I wont sob. "I'm just… lost." Which is true, sort of.

"It
is
confusing here. Where are you headed?"

I give her an address—Dad's address, actually, and she starts telling me the directions. The dog stands on

its hind legs, putting its front paws on Mom's car's nice, purple finish. Good. "Down, Ginger," She says.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," I say. "I always wanted a Lab."

She peers at me. "Do your parents know where you are? I always worried about my girls when they went

out at night. Actually, I still worry. You want to call your mother? You can use my phone if you don't have

a cell."

I want to say yes. Call my mother. Save yourself. But I don't. It won't matter anyhow. If Arnold's made up

his mind, his wife knowing a few weeks earlier won't matter. So I say, "Yes. I mean, I'm okay." I feel a chill and hug myself with both arms. "I'm running an errand for my mom." I tell her the address again, and she gives me the full directions. She even offers to get a sheet of paper to write them down, but I tell her

that's not necessary.

I cry the whole way home.

"How's the duet going?" Rowena asks at my voice lesson the following week. "It's going." I don't add that I am completely getting into the Violetta character by developing a monster crush on Alfredo, a.k.a. Sean.

"You and Sean getting along okay?"

Huge
understatement here: "He's fine."

Rowena nods. "I thought you two would make a good pairing."

"Yeah, our voices sound great together."

"Yes, but more than that—Sean seems like a boy who knows what he wants and is willing to work to get

it. You're that way too." She takes something on the top of the piano. "That's why I wanted to talk to you.

Have you thought about what you're going to do this summer?"

I smile. "Yes, actually. I was thinking about the University of Miami's choral camp." I bet she'll be proud of me for thinking so far ahead. It's only November.

"That's great. But I had another idea that I think is exciting. There's a summer opera program in New

York." She shows me the flier in her hand.

"New York?" I say. "Like, the State of New York—miles away? "Start spreading the news… That New York?"

"That very New York. Not the city, though. It's farther north. It's opera for high school kids. I have a friend on-staff there, and she says if you're as promising as I say you are, you could come stay with her and her

family. Of course, you'd have to audition."

"I'd have to fly to New York to audition? Mom would never go for that. She doesn't even like me taking

the train to school here."

"All taken care of." Rowena's looking pretty pleased with herself. "You can send a tape. It's due by March

—one piece in English, one in a foreign language. You can use the songs we're prepping for competition

in February. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh, you have no reason to be nervous. You're the most talented student I've ever had, and that includes

college kids. You'll get in for sure."

"That's not it." My mind's racing. I should want to do this. It's all I've ever wanted to do. And yet, part of me just keeps thinking about a gazillion reasons why not. I'd have to try out, and possibly screw up like I

did at the auditions for the show at school. And if I did get in, I'd have to go to New York all by myself,

when it already took everything I had just to get to Miami High School of the Arts. And then there's Sean.

The choral camp is just a one-week thing, but I think I'd go through withdrawal without Sean. I wonder if

he could go too. "How long is it?"

"Six weeks. I thought you'd be excited. I know you don't mind getting away."

"Right. It's just… no way would my mom let me go for so long."

Liar
. Mom's going into Arnold overdrive. She probably wouldn't even notice I was gone, until she got the credit card bill for the plane ticket.

"I'll talk to her." She squints at me. "Is there some other reason. Like a guy?"

"Of course not."
Liar, liar, pants on fire
.

"Caitlin, I remember when I was a teenager." Rowena stops, like she's thinking very hard about what to say next. "I thought the relationships I had were so important—thought they were forever. But they

weren't. Very few people end up marrying their high school sweethearts, so it's not worth it to make major

decisions—or miss out on important opportunities—for someone who is probably just temporary. And

besides, if he's that wonderful, he'd want you to do what's best for you. Being a singer will mean making

some sacrifices as far as friends and romance."

"It's not a guy. You know I'm not seeing anyone at school."

Rowena nods. "Yes, I knew there was no one there. I just thought maybe… I'm sorry. It was wrong of me

to assume."

That's when I realize what she meant, why she's so freaked out. "I'm not back with Nick," I tell her.

She makes a "sigh of relief" gesture with hand to forehead. "Okay. Then talk to your mom."

I'm not at all sure I will, but I nod.

Opera_Grrrl's Online Journal

Subject: Over the river and thru the woods, 2 Daddy's mansion we go

Date: November 26

Time: 7:18 p.m.

Listening to: Vienna Boys' Choir Xmas Album

Feeling: Wiped

Weight: 114 lbs. (Holding steady…I barely ate dinner. See below.)

Spent Thxgiving with Daddy-kins. It was actually FUN b/c Courtney (a.k.a. my 1/2 sister, a.k.a. Thing 1)

has become a vegetarian so she spent the *entire* time talking about the living conditions of turkeys &

how they're overfed to fatten their breasts & can barely stand up…and Macy spent the whole time yelling

at her and saying she couldn't eat the #@*! turkey she'd spent 5 hrs. cooking. LOL. I couldn't eat either, but

that's not a bad thing.

(BTW, did u know that turkey tetrazzini, a fattening use of leftover turkey, was actually named after a diva

—Luisa Tetrazzini?)

On the way out, Dad gave me my Xmas gift (a month early, as usual), an iPod. "Your mom says u like

music," he says.

Tres understatement!!!! Can us believe I thought he'd let me live w/him???? He knows nothing about my

life!

After dinner I thought about driving by Arnold's house on the way back to see if he's home w/his family

(Mom lent me the car instead of driving me to Dad's) but the tryptophan, that stuff in turkey that makes you

sleepy, was already kicking in, so I'm here, sacking out.

Thanksgiving Friday, in keeping with my theme of avoiding Mom, I try to slip out early. I'm meeting Sean

at Rowena's to practice our duet. But Mom stops me.

"Guess what?"

"You're up early." Usually, she can't peel her eyes open until long after I leave.

"Guess I'm excited. You'll never guess what happened."

"I don't have time to guess. I have to go to Rowena's."

"Okay, I'll tell you. Last night, I talked to Arnold on the phone, and I reminded him of how much I wanted
to
go to the opera…"

Note: On the
phone
. So he
does
spend major holidays with his family.

She's still talking. "… and he said he was planning on taking me to the very first one… La… something
or
other.
La Trapdoor
. Anyway, it's two weeks from today."

"That's great, Mom." It's also my opening night—not that I've told her about the performances yet. I also haven't asked her about the summer program in New York. There just hasn't been the right moment yet.

There never seems to be a right moment with Mom.

"And there's another thing."

"Mom, I really need to go."

"But it's important." She's practically jumping up and down. "I think he's going to propose. He said he wanted to discuss something really important."

Outside, our neighbor Mrs. Dankes is taking a cereal box out to her garbage can in a pink housecoat and

fuzzy slippers. This is what I think about at this point in time, so I won't have to think about the fact that

my mother is officially a homewrecker.

"Caitlin?"

"What makes you think he'll propose?"

"I told him I wanted to discuss where our relationship's going. He said he did too, but first he had some

things to take care of, so it would have to wait until December.
Then
I asked him about the opera, and he said that was a good idea and we could talk then. He even gave me money and told me to buy something

sparkly to wear… as if I don't already own something sparkly."

He probably didn't mean a belly button ring.

"He probably meant a gown," I say. "People wear gowns to the opera."

"Yes, a gown." Mom sighs. "I feel like a princess. Caitlin…?"

I'm mulling over the fact that my mother is actually taking money from a man she's sleeping with, so at

first, I don't catch the incredible thing that comes from her mouth."

"Caitlin, you know what to wear to this stuff. Can we go shopping together?"

I stare at her. She's actually asking me for advice?

Rewind. Stop. Play.

Yes. Yes, she's asking me for advice. Sort of.

"Please," she coos. "You always know how to dress… less trendy."

Nerdy. Boring. Childish.

"It will be fun, shopping together."

Fun's not the word I'd choose, but I nod. At this point, I'd agree to anything to get myself out of here.

"Gotta go now."

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't ask how it went yesterday with Dad. I'm just so excited."

"Yeah. You said that."

"I know. But please tell me."

"There's nothing to tell. I came, we ate, he gave me an iPod Mini because he heard somewhere that I was

into music. It was fine." I look at my watch.

"Are you sure? I always worry that these visits with your father will tear off little pieces of your soul."

"No, it was okay." Actually, what she said sounded really close to the truth, but I have to get out of here before I say something terrible to her. "I'm late."

"All right."

I pick up my sheet music and head for the door. "Caitlin?"

"What?"

"I know you don't agree, but I really think this will be a good thing for us."

"Mom, I have to go."

She nods, and I shut the door.

"What are you doing the rest of the day?" I ask Sean after we finish practicing.

It's a gray day. Grayday, grayday, grayday… the kind of day when you just feel sad even if you're happy. I