Ghosting (3 page)

I said Anil. Then introduced her to Zander.

He’s on the team, too.

But she didn’t seem to care.

Hey, Anil,
Zander said
, let’s go. I gotta get home.

Nice meeting you, Anil,
Chloe Carney said.

Polite words.

But she said my name like it was

some exotic, mouthwatering candy

from World Market.

4.
That weekend:

a party at a kid’s house,

and Chloe was there.

She and her friend Emma came up to me.

This is Anil who’s a tennis player,
Chloe said,
and he’s ripped.

Emma rolled her eyes and then eased away,

calling someone’s name.

I couldn’t take my eyes off you,
Chloe said in a husky, flirty voice.

Then she laughed,

and I laughed back.

5.
How could I say no to Chloe Carney?

How could anyone?

She is one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.

Hair the color of clover honey,

with all sorts of shifting lights in it.

Deep blue eyes.

Royal blue.

I haven’t brought Chloe Carney home,

but my parents know about her.

The only thing my father said,

It’s okay to have fun, Anil, but be careful.

Use protection.

Which made me blush,

but he was using his white-coat doctor voice

so it was okay.

And remember,
he went on
, once school starts you’re going to be busy.

6.
Busy, yes.

My senior year:

Tennis team captain

School newspaper editor

AP classes

International Baccalaureate

College applications, more than one, in case, God forbid,

I don’t get into Columbia.

7.
But sometimes it’s nice

to feel

no pressure.

Just be

reckless,

with Chloe Carney.

MAXIE

I am not ready to walk

through the doors to

George Washington High School

on Monday morning.

Even though

when I was

a kid I

couldn’t wait.

In middle school I’d walk by

George Washington High School,

watching kids in their hoodies

and ratty sneakers,

smoking cigarettes,

swearing at each other.

I wanted that.

I still remember the day Mom

told me we were moving to Colorado

and I’d be going to high school

at some place called East High,

which I had never seen

and where I wouldn’t know

a single person.

I felt cheated,

betrayed.

Like my parents had

stolen my future.

But it wasn’t so bad.

I made a few friends,

learned how to ski,

and, most important,

had this awesome teacher,

Mrs. Gablowski.

She’s the one who put

a camera in my hands

for the first time

and told me I was a natural:

observer,

composer,

finder of moments.

So here I am, back again.

A senior.

At George Washington High School.

I feel like I’m going

the wrong way in a

revolving door.

I’ll know people

but not really.

And they’ll know me

but not really.

I’ll have to start over,

figuring out where I fit in.

Which tribe will take me in?

I’ll probably end up

an art geek

because of

the camera.

But the whole prospect,

of starting over

as new/old girl,

is terrifying.

Emma texted today, saying,

We’re on for Saturday night.

She even listed who’ll be there:

Her boyfriend, Brendan, who I never knew,

different middle school,

different crowd.

Chloe Carney.

Friend of Emma’s from middle school days,

when Emma and I began drifting apart.

Chloe’s boyfriend.

No name.

Felix, former best bud.

Which makes me happy.

Very happy.

Emma, Felix, and Max.

An elementary school trio.

Legendary.

“EMFAX” is what Dad dubbed us,

and it stuck.

When we were kids

everyone loved

Felix.

He was the only boy

invited to all the girls’ birthday parties.

Not because he was a girly guy,

not at all.

He was a big soccer nut.

But because he was just

so darn

cute.

Neither of us was

good at keeping in touch

after I moved

to Colorado,

but it’ll be great to see him.

I remember how he used to

bound up to everyone,

all high energy,

with that immediate

big grin.

Anyway, I guess Saturday night

will be a good first

toe in the water.

Hopefully I’ll still have all my toes

when the night’s

done.

FELIX

i flick the switch of the kitchen light. nothing. bulb must be busted. and i used the last bulb when i changed the one in mom’s reading lamp a few weeks ago. not that she reads anymore. most nights she falls asleep watching tv.

so it’s cheerios in the dark for dinner again. solo, naturally, since mom is asleep by now. but it’s not a bad routine. i’ve always been a cereal-for-dinner fan. didn’t expect it’d happen most nights like this, but it’s cool.

no clean bowls though and the milk smells off. that sucks. i wish mom didn’t have to work so hard. and that she was happy. the way she was happy when i was a kid.

she had a lot of energy then, which was a good thing since i was a real nutso, revved-up kid, because of the adhd. she was always game for running after me, always patient with the calls from school about the busted fish tank, missing gerbil, library books in the boys’ bathroom toilets. etc. not dad. he wasn’t patient. but mom didn’t believe in meds and said she’d hang in there with me. all the time. and she did.

until lately.

yeah, lately she’s pretty much checked out. but i understand. and i can cut her some slack, after all the slack she’s cut me.

tomorrow’s my last day at the library. community service
for being busted for pot end of last year. best part was working in the kids’ section. tomorrow we’ll have a few stragglers, kids wanting prizes for the summer reading program, which ended a week ago. that nice librarian, mrs. sheridan, with hair so long she can sit on it, she’ll give them prizes anyway.

mrs. sheridan was around back when emma, max, and i did the summer reading program. that’s when i discovered the joey pigza books by jack gantos. i liked joey pigza because he was like me, only worse. i must’ve read the first one about twenty times. and good old mrs. sheridan counted each time as a separate book, so i’d get the prizes.

maybe tomorrow i’ll check out a joey pigza book. for old time’s sake.

weird that emma invited me to hang out with her and her friends saturday night. weird that it’ll be emma, max, and me together again. EMFAX. crazy. haven’t thought about EMFAX in a long time. stoked to see max though. takes me back, to when things were a whole lot simpler.

BRENDAN

Last weekend before the grind starts up again.

Down for some serious fun.

Why the hell does Emma have to drag along

this girl nobody knows on Saturday night?

She’d better not be a loser, or a buzzkill,
I say.

Be nice,
Emma says
. My mom made me.

We can always ditch her,
I say.

And Emma smiles,

so I know it’s cool.

Felix is okay,

long as he’s not too baked.

And Chloe’s all right,

always up for some fun.

But what’s the deal with this Anil guy?

It’s not like I’m a racist or anything.

Maybe it’s the brainiac thing.

Mr. National Merit Scholar.

He’s in all the AP classes;

he probably hangs with the geeks.

Seen him in the workout room.

Watching and looking around all the time.

Probably looking down on the rest of us.

Screw that.

Wish Chloe had stuck with Josh.

Even though he’s a dick, I get Josh.

CHLOE

“Senior Year”

I’m totally sick of scooping

ice cream at Bonnie’s Sweet Shop

My fingers—always sticky.

And Lou, the manager, always hitting on me.

But it still sucks that school

starts on Monday.

Mom keeps saying

I need a 2.9,

if I want to go to

Illinois State.

Who said I want to;

it’s her who’s always wanted me

to go there.

All because
she
went

to Illinois State,

best freaking four years of her life.

Downhill ever since,

if you ask me.

Poor mom:

single mom.

3 kids.

husband long gone.

(Would never want her life. Not. Ever.)

Lucky dad:

cute new younger wife.

black-haired, dimply baby girl.

big house in California.

(Who cares.)

Dad’s been gone

since I was in 6th grade.

Mom clawed her way

up in the real estate business.

Has her own company now,

and her plastic face

is on the back page

of our town newspaper

every week,

not to mention plastered

on benches all around town.

My smiley-face mom

holding an umbrella:

“I’m On Your Side,

Come Rain Or Come Shine”

Gag me.

At least there’s Anil now.

Good, real,

hot-bod Anil.

Maybe senior year

won’t be all bad.

FAITH

I love

riding

my bike

around town.

Today I

take Polly

because

she’s restless,

on edge.

I know

she is

because

so am I.

And the

reason

is that

Mom and Dad

have been

yelling at

each other

all morning.

About Emma,

of course.

Mom thinks

they should be

stricter,

but Dad says

no.

Emma should have fun.

Brendan’s a good kid.

She’ll be off to college soon, needs to get used to her freedom.

I get

where Dad’s

coming from.

On the

other hand,

he’s wrong

about

Brendan.

Even in

middle school,

kids told

stories

about him,

crazy stuff

he’s done.

But he’s

a jock, and

good-looking,

so he gets

away with

everything.

Still, Emma

knows

how to

handle him,

the way

she knows

how to

handle

everything.

Although

one night

this summer

she came

home

upset.

Some

stupid prank

he pulled

that went

a little

too far.

Almost got us killed,
she said.

But she

said it

angry,

not scared.

Emma doesn’t

get scared.

Not the way

most people

do.

One good thing

about Emma is

she always

tells me

the truth.

Any question

I ask.

She said

it’s because

I need to know

the way things

really are,

not the bullshit

you get from

parents

and teachers

and movies

and TV.

So she’s told

me all about

the sex

she’s had,

the drugs

she’s tried.

She says

I’m smart

like her

and won’t

get carried

away by

any of it.

I’m thinking

about Emma

and Brendan

again,

wondering

what he

did that

almost got

them killed,

when I

realize I’ve

come to

the front

gates of

Walnut Creek

Cemetery.

I slow down,

and Polly

slows, too.

Slanting rays

of the sun

send long

black stripes

along the

green cemetery

grass,

shadows

from the

grave markers

in their

straight rows.

I stop to look.

Rubbing

Polly’s ears

with one hand,

I shade

my eyes

with the

other, and

think about

Emma again.

And I

realize

that I

am

smart

like her.

Actually,

maybe

smarter.

Because

I would never

get involved

with a boy

like Brendan.

WALTER

Looking down from my window,

I watch Mother hunched over,

kneeling in her garden.

Working all the time on her roses.

She looks old, bent, confused sometimes.

Found a pile of dirty dishes

in the freezer yesterday.

But I’ll take care of her.

She always took care of me.

Watching over me, protecting me from bad guys.

Read to me every night. Cowboy stories.