This Is So Not Happening (14 page)

“I’ve already got the website booted up,” she said, clinging to her coffee mug.

Ironic, right? This was a perfect example of why I wanted to get the hell away from here and go to college—the fact that she was so effing obsessed with me getting into college that she wouldn’t leave me alone about it. At least I
think
that’s irony.

“Can I get something to eat first?” I asked, putting my duffel bag and backpack down on the floor.
We won, by the way, thanks for asking
, I wanted to add, but didn’t. My mom had never been much for what she called “back talk” and these days it made her nuts.

I hoped whoever my baby’s parents ended up being, they would be cooler than mine.

“It’ll take thirty seconds, Jake,” she said, turning sideways to let me through the doorway. “Let’s just get it over with.”

“Fine,” I said with a huge sigh.

I tromped past her and over to the computer, flopping down into the chair, which was four inches too high for me. My knees hit the granite-topped desk, and I reached over to lower the seat. The chair let out a hiss as I dropped down. My mother put her cup down and pushed up the baggy sleeves of her even baggier gray sweater. Her diamond bracelets clicked together as she leaned over my shoulder and pressed her hand into the desk next to the mouse pad.

I so didn’t want to do this with her here. This past summer
I’d had an SAT tutor, and my last couple of practice tests had been pretty good. My mom was so excited about those scores that she actually started looking at me differently. Like she was proud of me for something other than sports. I knew that I was about to let her down big-time.

Or maybe not. Maybe Chloe was right and miracles do happen. Maybe some of what I’d learned over the summer had made its way onto the test sheet without me realizing.

“What are you waiting for?” my mother said.

A time machine?
I thought. Maybe my future self was about to come back to rescue me from this moment. Of course if he was gonna do that, I could think of some other big moments he could’ve saved me from first.

I slowly typed in my password and hit enter. Our state-of-the-art super Mac lived up to the high-speed hype. I hadn’t even blinked before my numbers were right there on the screen.

My low numbers. My just-as-low-as-last-spring’s-dismal-ass numbers. My heart dropped so fast I slumped a little. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was even worse than I’d thought.

Now I was hoping that whatever the baby got of mine, it didn’t get my stupid-ass brain.

“Oh my God,” my mother said. She stood up straight, put one hand over her mouth and the other on the kitchen island, and stared at the screen. “Oh my God, Jake.”

“Mom, it’s not that bad,” I said lamely.

Her eyes got scary-big. “Not that bad? Are you seeing something here that I’m not seeing?”

“I could get into a state school,” I hedged, spinning the seat only halfway around so I wouldn’t have to face her completely. “Or I could maybe get a scholarship.”

“A scholarship? You haven’t scored a goal all season, Jake!” my mother said, raising her palms.

Oh, so she
was
paying attention. Joy.

“What about swimming? And lacrosse?” I said.

“Great! That’s just great! Let’s wait until May and just see what happens!” my mother ranted, pacing around to the other side of the island. “What happened to you, Jake? You were doing so well this summer!”

“I’m sorry, okay!?” I snapped, shoving myself out of the chair. “I kind of had a lot of things on my mind that day.”

The color drained out of her face as she braced her hands on the countertop. “Things? Like Chloe?”

“Yes, like Chloe,” I replied. “Like Chloe and the baby.”

She hadn’t said the word “baby” once since finding out. She just called it “it” the few times she talked about it.

“Well, that’s just fantastic!” she shouted, throwing her hands up. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Jake, because you can forget about college now.”

I opened my mouth to respond. Because lots of people went to school with scores like mine. They just didn’t go to schools like Fordham, where my dad had gone. Where my parents wanted me to go. But I couldn’t get a word in. My mother was on a tear.

“You can forget about playing college sports, you can forget about getting a good job. You threw away your entire future just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants!”

My jaw dropped open. Even my mother looked stunned. I couldn’t believe she’d just said that. My mother got uncomfortable when characters in movies started undressing.

She recovered herself quickly, though, and looked me in the
eye. “Go to your room!” she shouted. “You’re grounded until further notice.”

“But Mom—”

I’d just gotten
un
grounded.

“Go!” she screeched, pointing toward the stairs behind me.

I rolled my eyes, but turned around and went. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her anymore anyway. I snatched my bags off the floor of the foyer and took the stairs three at a time to my room, where I slammed the door as hard as I could. Then I flung both bags at the wall and let them drop with a thud. Standing in the center of my room, I tried to regulate my breathing. I tried to tell myself everything would be okay. That it would work itself out somehow. But one thought kept repeating itself in my mind.

Just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. Just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.

I was beaming nonstop over the standing ovation and the third curtain call when I burst into the backstage area with the rest of the cast. Everyone was laughing and shouting—whooping it up, screaming out their relief, exhaling the last of their nerves. The performance had gone off without one hiccup. Well, unless you count the fact that Puck had his wings on backward for the first act and kept knocking trees and bushes over with them. But I couldn’t believe I hadn’t forgotten a single line—that I hadn’t tripped over my gown once, or slid off that fake rock I had to sleep on—something I’d done way too many times in dress rehearsal.

“We did it!” Lincoln shouted, grabbing me up and spinning around. “You were amazing!”

“So were you!” I said, reaching back to keep my floral wreath from slipping off my hair. “But you almost made me laugh!” I hit his arm as someone jostled me from behind trying to get to their parents.

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry!” He put his hands over his eyes for a second. “My little brother came running down the aisle and started making faces at me. You couldn’t see him from where you were standing, but I almost lost it and then
you
almost lost it and … yeah. That was no good.” He looked around at the already packed backstage area, which was rapidly becoming more crowded with friends and family, boyfriends and girlfriends. “Where is that little bugger? I have to kick his scrawny ass.”

I laughed, my face stretched tight from all the smiling. I felt like I was never going to stop smiling.

Over Lincoln’s shoulder, I saw my mom, Gray, Quinn, and my dad elbow their way into the mayhem. My dad held a huge bouquet of colorful flowers. Behind them were Annie and David, who had a single rose. I stood on my toes, looking for Jake. Had he brought me flowers too? But the next person through the door was an elderly man, being helped along by a younger guy. Then a mom I’d seen lurking around during rehearsals some days. Then Faith’s mom and her little brothers. But where the heck was Jake?

“So, where’s the crown prince of Orchard Hill High?” Lincoln asked, apparently noticing his absence as well.

“He’s here,” I said confidently, but my brow knit. “Some-where.”

“Ally!” my mom shouted, finally singling me out in the crowd.

“I better go,” I told Lincoln. “I’ll see you at the party!”

“I’ll be there,” he replied.

“Really?” I said.

He started to say “no,” but caught himself and pointed at me as he backed away. “You almost got me!”

I giggled as I slipped past him, dodged Puck’s wayward wings, ducked as Janine Cantor flung herself at her boyfriend, and found myself in my mom’s arms.

“Ally! You were unbelievable! I’m so proud of you,” she said, kissing the top of my head.

“Who knew we had
two
stellar actresses in the family?” Gray commented, referring to Quinn and her community theater experience. He reached out for a one-armed squeeze around my shoulders. I saw my dad’s jaw clench at the contact and quickly slipped out of it.

“Awesome job,” Quinn said. “I was surprised.”

“Thanks!” I said, choosing to ignore the dig.

I turned to my father, who wrapped me up in a hug and presented me with the flowers. “You out-acted everyone else on the stage.”

“Dad!” I said, blushing. “They can hear you.”

Everyone laughed. David handed me the rose, and Annie held out her program to me.

“What?” I asked, looking at the wrinkled mess.

“Can I have your autograph?” she asked, breathless.

“Ha ha,” I said drily. I tripped sideways as one of the moms shoved past me. “Have you guys seen Jake?” Annie bit her lip and David averted his eyes. Suddenly my smile wasn’t quite so wide anymore. “What?”

“I’m not sure he ever showed,” David said.

“Maybe he was in the back,” Annie added as my face fell.

“Yeah. It’s not like he would’ve sat with us anyway,” David pointed out.

It was a nice try, but I knew he hadn’t come. If he had, Annie would have seen him. She never missed anything. I felt like a black pit of tar was forming in my stomach area, expanding to engulf everything. Looked like Lincoln was right. Jake Graydon had no interest in gracing the auditorium with his presence. Not even for the girl he supposedly loved.

“Ally, get together with your friends. Your mother wants a picture,” Gray said, holding his camera up with one hand and waving us together with the other.

I turned toward the lens and forced a smile, but I suddenly felt tired—exhausted. Jake was grounded. I knew this. I knew there had been a chance he wouldn’t make it. But I couldn’t help feeling like if he’d really wanted to be here, he would have found a way to be here.

“One more!” Gray said jovially.

“Can we please go?” I asked.

“What’s wrong?” my mother asked me, slipping her arm around my shoulder.

“I’m starving,” I lied. “I was so nervous I barely ate anything today.”

“Okay, then. Let’s eat!” my father said.

We walked up the steps, which let out onto the main hall. I was just slipping through into the hallway when Jake came bursting in, a smallish bouquet of red roses in his hand. For a split second my heart fluttered with relief. He hadn’t forgotten about me. But then I realized his cheeks were red with cold,
and he had his jacket on. He’d just come in from outside. He had missed the entire play.

“Hey!” he said with a huge smile. He walked forward and engulfed me in a frigid hug. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” I said stiffly, stepping back. “You just got here?”

As soon as they heard my question, my family and friends decided it was a good idea to keep walking. They moved ahead a few paces and pretended to be fascinated by the posters advertising the names of Orchard Hill High’s National Merit Scholars.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Jake said, glancing back over his shoulder. “I went with Chloe to her appointment this afternoon and her parents found out about it—God knows how. But anyway there was this whole big drama and I couldn’t get out of there. But the good news is, they decided to let me see Chloe. To, like, let me be involved. So now there’ll be no more sneaking around.”

“Great,” I said, not managing to sound in the least bit happy.

Jake’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”

I knew I shouldn’t say what I was about to say. I knew it was petty and that his problems were so much bigger than mine. But I had to stand up for myself too, right? He was supposed to be my boyfriend. How long was I supposed to just take the fact that I was coming in second to Chloe all the time?

“Okay, I know this is going to sound, like, beyond selfish and everything, but how could you not be here?” I asked. “This was the one night … the one night this whole year that was supposed to be about my thing, my play. But instead you spent the afternoon with Chloe and because you did that you had to spend the night with her too.”

Jake licked his lips. “I’m sorry. I just … but it wasn’t just about Chloe. It was about the baby.”

The baby, right. And it wasn’t like I could argue with the baby. I felt sick with guilt for even thinking about trying. I took a deep breath and told myself to chill. It was over. It wasn’t like I could go back and make him be here for the performance. But he was here now. I tried to believe that was what mattered.

“Okay, well … you’re meeting me later, right?” I asked.

We were having the cast party in Faith’s basement and Jake had promised to sneak out and come with. I had a feeling I was going to need him after suffering through what was sure to be the most awkward dinner of all time, with my mom, my dad, my mom’s fiancé, and his daughter.

Jake gritted his teeth and I took a step back.

“You’re not coming?”

“You know I’m grounded,” I said.

My face stung. “That didn’t matter when you were going to the doctor with Chloe.”

“I told my parents I had an emergency practice right after school,” he said, sounding desperate. “I can’t tell them I have another one tonight.”

“Well, where do they think you are right now?” I asked.

“Getting pizza,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “Actually, I should get over to Renato’s if I’m going to get back without them getting suspicious….”

“Okay, fine. Just go,” I said, walking past him. I was so angry I was practically shaking. I held my dad’s and David’s flowers against my chest as tightly as I could, trying not to lose it completely.

“Ally, come on,” he begged.

“No, no. You’re late to get your pizza!” I stormed right past my family and started down the stairs.

“Don’t you want your flowers?” he yelled after me.

Give them to Chloe
.

“Not even a little bit,” I replied.