The Tension of Opposites (12 page)

When my feet hit the street, I started jogging, counting the houses as I passed them. I looked over my shoulder when I reached the final yard, thankful that Elle and Max were engrossed in a conversation and weren't paying any attention to me.

I walked past the last house at a quick pace and turned when I reached the driveway that Chip had taken. I crouched against the bricks of the front porch, peering around the corner to see what, exactly, was going on.

Ten feet away, Jessie Richards stood against the side of the house. Her hands framed her face, and her shoulders slumped forward. One of her legs was bent, and her foot was propped against the brick wall for support. Chip stood right in front of her, shaking his head.

“Seriously, Chip, when's it going to be enough?” Jessie asked.

“Why are you going all psycho on me?”

“Oh, God, Chip.” Jessie sobbed and bowed her face into her shaking hands. “I feel like I don't know you anymore.”

“Jesus.” Chip stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Get a grip, would you?”

“No, Chip!” Jessie's foot flung from the wall and stomped the concrete ground as her fisted hands struck his chest. “You get a grip. What the hell are you doing with that girl, anyway? And don't try to tell me you're falling for her.”

Chip smoothed his palms along the front of his jacket. “We're just hanging out, Jess.”

As Chip's hand swung down to his side, Jessie reached out and grabbed for it. He pulled away quickly, and she stepped back.

“You had sex with her, didn't you?” Jessie's voice was quiet, icy cold. “Chip, do you know how repulsive that is?”

“Oh, shut up, Jess. You're just jealous because you know she's better than you'll ever be.”

Jessie sucked in a deep breath and held it while Chip's words registered in her brain. I could almost see her processing center spinning like a CD in a disc player, faster and faster, trying to come up with some kind of response.

But she didn't have one. She just turned and rushed away, her long legs gliding past me so fast she didn't even notice my presence.

Chip straightened himself, pulled his shoulders back, and cleared his throat a few times. He kept staring at the brick wall where Jessie had been standing.

He was still. Really, really still.

Until he turned and walked toward a large trash can that was parked in the darkest shadow of the driveway. In one swift movement, he kicked out his leg, slamming his foot into top half of the plastic container. I heard a pop as the trash can split, and then, not daring to wait any longer, I turned and ran back to Max and Elle, deciding to explain my empty hands with details about long lines and irritated crowds.

“Just one,” Elle said, reaching into my snack-size bag of potato chips.

“You've never in your life,” I said, slapping her hand, “had just one.”

“Well, if you're gonna be like that”—Elle slumped back in her seat—“I'll just watch the fat slide onto your ass.”

I sighed and turned the bag her way. “Fine,” I said. “Have at 'em.”

“No.” Elle tilted her head toward me. “I was trying to have one of those best-friend moments my shrinkedelic keeps telling me I need. You ruined it, Tessa. I'm disappointed in you.”

I wanted to jump up and wrap my arms around her, to squeeze with every ounce of strength in my body. Elle had called me her best friend! Could we really have found our way back to normal, after everything?

As I tried to keep myself from screaming out to the lunchroom that I had a best friend again, Max reached a hand into the crinkly bag and grabbed three salty chips. “I'll take a few,” he said.

“Just so you know,” I said, “I have issues with sharing.”

“Well, now that you have someone worth sharing with,” Max said, “that should change.”

“Oh my God,” Elle said, leaning forward against the edge of the table, staring across the lunchroom, her blue-black hair falling over her shoulders and grazing the tabletop, reminding me of the soft tip of a paintbrush. “How hot is he? I mean,
look
at him.”

I followed her gaze, knowing in advance who I'd see walking through the cafeteria line. “Elle, you're scaring me,” I said as I watched Chip's hulking figure pause over a basket of muffins. “I thought you were going to keep your distance. Emotionally, I mean.”

“There's no emotion involved, Tessa.” Elle licked her lips. “I'm just saying he's hot as hell, okay?” Elle pushed her chair from the table, stood, and took a few steps away.

“Elle, come on. You'll see him in the atrium in a few minutes.” My eyes darted to Jessie's table and found what I expected. Jessie was staring at Chip with wide eyes that seemed to be brimming with anguish, or longing, or just plain old desire. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn't good.

“Just stop worrying, will you?” Elle asked over her shoulder. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for my response.

“Yeah.” I took a chip from the bag and crunched. “I'll try.”

And then she was gone, weaving her way through the mass of tables, chairs, and bodies.

“I'm thinking that's not going to end very well,” Max said, taking a swig of water from his bottle.

“Me, too,” I answered. Elle stepped through the tall archway separating the food line from the dining area. She was reaching for Chip's shoulder when Max grabbed my hand.

“You gotta let it go.” He tapped my arm with his bottle.

“Right.” I nodded, focusing on how Jessie's eyes had narrowed, taking on the glazed look of hatred, her lips pinched tightly together.

Quickly, I turned back to Elle and Chip. Elle's hands were clasped around his biceps as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He kind of knocked into her, and her mouth opened wide with laughter that I couldn't hear.

Jessie, by this time, was trying to stand up but couldn't because Kirsten and Tabby were holding her arms, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her down.

“Tessa,” Max said. “Stop staring.”

“I can't.”

“I
challenge
you to stop staring.”

“You're not allowed to do that.”

“I just did.”

Chip and Elle stepped into the line, waiting to pay. Chip started juggling three individually wrapped muffins. Elle just cracked up, sticking her hand in his way every few seconds. As the muffins somersaulted to the ground, they both bent down to pick them up, and I lost sight of them.

By then, Jessie was standing, yanking her arm from Kirsten's grasp, her lips moving quickly. When she freed herself, she smoothed her hair and nodded silently at the table of girls staring her way, who, like me, were all waiting to see what would happen next.

“The challenge is on.” Max leaned in and whispered in my ear. “At the moment, you're losing.”

Chip and Elle were almost at the front of the line. I willed the cashier to hurry as Jessie sauntered away from her table of friends.

“Look at me,” Max said, his breath swishing against my cheek.

I did. Looked right into his chocolate brown eyes. “I didn't take you for the romantic stare-into-my-eyes type.”

“I'm full of surprises.” The corners of Max's mouth turned up. “Whoever looks away first loses. Go.”

“Loses what?”

“The stare-off.”

“How do you win?”

“You can't look away. Geesh, have you been paying attention?”

“You blinked.”

“The rules say nothing about blinking.”

“I wonder what's happening with Elle.”

“I think if any eye clawing or hair ripping were taking place, we'd know.”

“It could be seconds away. She might need me.”

“Who cares? This is fun.”

“It's torture.”

Max laughed. “You have nice eyes.”

“So do you. Can we stop yet?”

“No. I have an important question.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. What are you doing for New Year's Eve?”

I almost looked down at the floor but caught myself just in time. “I don't know yet.”

“Wanna hang out with me?” Max lifted his eyebrows.

I started to get a little hot. Squirmed in my seat. But didn't look away. “Elle and I have this tradition. We usually—”

“Oh, right. I wasn't thinking.” His words were flat and clipped, cutting our playful exchange short.

“But maybe we could all—” I glanced toward Elle, catching sight of Jessie as her progress was halted by someone pushing away from a table, his blue chair almost knocking her to the tiled floor. I couldn't see her face, but I watched as her hand reared up and smacked him on the back.

Chip and Elle moved away from the cash register, turning to face each other. Chip nodded at something Elle said; then he stepped into her and bent down, whispering into her ear.

I looked back to Max's eyes, which were still trained on my face. “Maybe we could all hang out.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He nodded. I could tell from the way his lips were scrunched and wrinkled that I'd upset him. It was the last thing I wanted to do, screw this thing up, whatever was going on between us. But I couldn't help it. Then he half smiled, and I started to breathe again. “You're aware you just lost, right?”

“Oh, no,” I said with a laugh. “I did, didn't I?”

“Just let me know,” he said, turning toward the table. “About New Year's, I mean.” His voice was soft and distant, like he didn't really care. But I believed his eyes, instead, which creased with something like irritation or disappointment.

“Yeah. Okay,” I said. Elle finally walked away from Chip, the smile on her lips indicating that everything she'd told me about not being emotionally involved was a lie.

“I'll cash in later.” Max's voice was still soft, but it held a hint of humor. “I'll have to think about what prize my overwhelming victory deserves.”

“Dream on.” I nudged my elbow into his side.

“I'll add it to your tab,” he said. “You still owe me for getting you an invite to dinner at the Pendeltons'.”

Elle walked back to the table and sat in her seat. “On. Fire,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “He's not that hot.”

“You know, Elle,” Max said, “you could give a guy a complex.”

“You're much better than Chip Knowles.” I patted Max's knee.

“Oh, God,” Elle said.

“What?” Max sat up straight. “You think I'm that bad?”

Elle shook her head and pointed. I'd already seen. Jessie and Chip stood by a table where a man was taking orders for class rings. The ex-couple stood close together, their mouths moving tight and fast, their eyes bright and glaring. The few people who were standing in line for rings slowly stepped away from the table to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

“Can't she just leave him alone?” Elle asked.

I didn't want to say what I was thinking. But as her best friend, I had to.

“Didn't you say you expect them to get back together?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. But not right now.” Elle shrugged. “I was just starting to have a little fun.”

The bell rang, and people stood, gathering their things. Elle jumped up and perched on her tiptoes to maintain her view of Chip and Jessie.

“She's got her finger pointed in his face like he's some stupid little kid,” Elle said as she reached for her stack of books. I threw my leftovers onto Elle's tray and grabbed it, turning to head for the nearest trash can.

“Got it,” Max said, taking the tray from my hands and walking away.

“I mean, who does she think she is?” Elle asked.

“She's the girl who dated him for four years, Elle.”

Elle all of a sudden flipped into bitch mode. “She's not dating him anymore, Tessa.”

“C'mon,” I said, wondering how I could possibly put an end to the situation. “Let's go.”

Elle ran her fingers along the spine of each book tucked against her chest. “Maybe I should wait for him.”

I shook my head as Max came back to the table and grabbed his things.

“What's up?” he asked when he noticed my foot
tap-tap-tap-
ing the floor.

“Elle here was just wondering if she should wait for Chip.” I propped a hand on my hip. “What do you think?”

Max looked from me to Elle. Elle attempted to focus on Max but couldn't keep from gazing back toward the argument near the man and his rings. “Um … I'm gonna go with
no
?”

I nodded once and put a hand on Elle's shoulder. “See?”

Elle pulled away. “Yeah, I see that he said exactly what you wanted.”

“Hey, Elle.” Max stepped forward to keep from being bumped by the people moving toward the exit. “A lot of people might be like that. But I'm not. I really think you should walk away.”

“Oh, yeah?” I felt like smacking her for giving Max attitude. “Why?”

“For one, you'll look like an idiot standing here by yourself staring over at them. You'll either seem weak or demanding, neither of which is too desirable.”

“People are already going to talk.” I stepped in closer, looking around the room, which had lost half of its population. “Do you want them to feel sorry for you or admire you?”

Elle's eyes hardened. “You talk to her, don't you? The shrinkedelic? She must give you tips on how to worm into my brain and make me do the right thing.” Elle's lips tightened as she glanced over at Chip and Jessie. I tried to ignore them, but their narrowed eyes and waving hands made it difficult.

“She's right. You have a choice.” Max put a hand on Elle's back and steered her toward the exit. “If you stand here and wait, you'll be the victim. People will be all, ‘Poor Elle, she doesn't have a clue.' But, if you walk away with a smile and show everyone you're confident enough to leave them alone, people will envy your strength.”

Elle's feet started moving a little faster. I saw a gap between Max's hand and her shoulder blade. “You think?” she asked.

“Absolutely.” Max nodded and a few curls bounced forward. I was dying to reach out and tuck them behind his ear, but that was too much. Too close. So I doubled my pace until I was at Elle's side.

“Hold your head up,” I told her. “And look everyone in the eye.”

“So,” Darcy said as she scanned the dresses hanging on the rack in front of her, “I saw Jessie and her death rays in the lunchroom last period.”

“Close call,” I said from my seat on the arm of an old couch.

“I noticed.” Darcy pulled a blue dress from between two others, yellow and red. She held it up against her chest, wrapping one arm around the front, cinching the fabric to her waist. “What do you think?”

The dress was so long it scraped the wooden floor of the stage. The high, lacy neck was strung with pearly buttons. A large poofing shoulder stood at the top of each arm, tapering off around the elbow, where it pulled tight.

“I think that neck looks like a doily my grandma would have used under an ice-cream bowl.”

Darcy looked at me and laughed. Then she swooped to the front of the stage and danced in a large circle, her hair swinging across her back. When she finished, she faced the darkened rows of the auditorium, curtsying to the empty seats. “I think it'll match your eyes.”

“Whatever,” I said. “Can we just do this?”

Darcy fluttered my way and spread the dress beside me on the couch. “You gotta take off your shirt.”

“Darcy, I did not agree to—”