Complicated

Happy Halloween

4

It was three days before Sarah’s Halloween party at lunch. I was wedged between Ron and Derek. Ron was busily trying to explain something chemical to me. Derek interrupted him and announced that he had a surprise for me. I secretly hoped that it was private tutoring in chemistry and precalculus.

Derek made me close my eyes. I heard him jumble around the junk in his backpack, searching for his surprise. Ron whispered to me that Derek had gotten me a crown to go with my act. I blindly kicked at him—the first time, I banged my foot against the leg of the table; the second time, I was successful. Ron swore at me. I giggled.

The noise from Derek rifling through his backpack stopped.

“All right, Micky,” his sweet voice called. “Open your eyes.”

My green eyes opened and took in the beautiful sight. Resting calmly in Derek’s palms was a beaded necklace with a blue teardrop pendant. I gasped in delight.

“Derek!” I exclaimed. “It’s gorgeous!”

“And all yours.” He grinned, clearly proud that he had surprised me and made me happy. He threw a boasting look to Ron who was pretending not to notice us. Ron almost choked on his hotdog on his blind, jealous haste.

I ignored Ron. “Thank you!” I squealed.

I had him put it on me at once. Derek lifted my hair away from my neck and carefully clasped the necklace. When he was done, he brushed his fingertips from my ear around and under my chin. “My queen,” he murmured.

The bell rang, and Derek went on his way. I waited for Ron so that we could walk together. He huffed and gave me dark looks.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that to me, Mick. It’s not nice.”

“What?” I asked.

“You know what I mean—make me jealous like that. But it’s not just jealousy; it’s rubbing it in my face that you’re his and not mine. I don’t need a reminder, Mick.”

I felt sorry for him. I put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from hurriedly walking down the hall. He paused and looked down at me. I kissed him on the cheek.

“Apparently, you do need reminding that it’s unintentional. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Ron smiled softly and said, “Go to class. I’ll see you later.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Only if I’m lucky.”

He laughed and walked away. I smiled to myself and entered my US history class.

Due to Derek’s gift, I was on cloud nine the rest of the day. I probably failed my history quiz, but I didn’t really care. Derek had given me a gift! Our relationship was inching forward. The thought sent an electric current throughout my body. The party was looking more and more thrilling. Anticipation was now eagerly building up. Friday was too far off.

How could three days last so long? Somehow I was able to make it because three days later I was making a mad dash to get ready for Derek’s arrival. He was driving me over to Sarah’s.

It was one of those days. You know the kind where no one sticks to schedule and you almost lose control? That was it.

Friday afternoon, late, around five—Derek was coming within the hour. Neither of my parents was expected home until seven, or eight at the latest. Both knew I was going out. And up until five thirty, no one had a problem.

Five thirty: my dad came home. He was in the foulest mood he’d been in all month. Of course, it was just like him to choose the last day of October to become a tyrant.

My dad stormed into the house. Our paths wouldn’t have crossed if I hadn’t remembered that I left my Precalculus book on the dining table. I bounced down the stairs, plugged into my mp3. Naturally, I didn’t hear my father when he grumpily asked what time my mother was coming home.

When I didn’t respond, he yanked my headphones out of my ears, pulled them from my mp3, and threw them into the trash can.

“Answer me when I speak to you!” He roared.

I immediately cowered. My whisper was barely audible, “Yes, sir.”

He paused to study my attire. “Just where do you think you are going?”

I inwardly groaned. Oh no.

He eyed my blue beaded necklace. “Where did that come from?”

I dropped my gaze to the floor. If I played my cards just right, maybe I’d make it out with little damage done.

“The necklace is a gift from Derek, my boyfriend. He’s taking me to a party tonight—it’s at Sarah White’s house, just down the street.” I had already told him this. Although it didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t remembered, it certainly stung. What a caring father.

When he didn’t respond, I peeked up at him, hesitantly curious about his reaction. He stood motionless, thinking.

“Have you finished your homework?”

“Not…all of it.” I tried stressing the ‘all.’

“Then why are you going out?” His voice turned the volume up a snitch. “You know the rules.”

“It’s Friday, Dad. I have all weekend to work on the rest of my homework.”

That made him angry. “Procrastination is making your grades drop, Michelle! You can’t afford to slip up now! Especially because college is right around the bend!”

I didn’t even bother to muster up an argument. I’d heard this a million times already. I stared evenly at the man.

“And this weekend, you are going to clean up the mess you claim as your room!” The veins in his forehead were raised. “And mow the lawn, Michelle! It looks horrible!”

The last remark sparked a retort. “Dad, Mom has a lawn service take care of the lawn! Plus, it’s October! We don’t mow now!”

At the mention of my mother, his hands clenched into fists. I didn’t add the fact that I hadn’t worked our ancient lawnmower since I was eleven. Hard work, an ethic instilled at an early age, was always a more delectable punishment than losing privileges.

“Michelle…you will mow the damn lawn.” His voice was now icy shards.

I felt my eyes burn. I nodded, jaw taught, “Yes, sir.”

The sound of the doorbell ringing momentarily put our match on pause. For a second, neither of us moved, both frozen.

I drew in a breath. “That’s probably Derek.”

The silence that previously hung in the air cracked like ice. My father nodded, “Of course.”

I approached the front door, hoping my mascara hadn’t run. I swiped my fingers quickly underneath my eyes before unlocking the door and opening my house to Derek Jameson.

“Hey, Micks,” his familiar voice called.

I smiled briefly. “Hey.”

His eyes slid past mine, settling on my father’s. “Hello, sir.”

My father, surprisingly well behaved, nodded once. “Mr. Jameson.”

So formal. The irony made me sick. Like nothing was wrong. You’re different outside school, he had said. He had no idea.

Tires suddenly turned into my driveway. Mom was home. Derek turned to see who it was. I was glad that he had parked in the street. For the first time in months, my mom stormed into the house.

“Richard!” She hissed.

I closed my eyes, sucking in a breath. Not tonight, not in front of Derek.

“Marie.” He said, an edge to his voice.

“You took another mortgage out on our house?!” My mom’s flushed face burned in anger. “And you didn’t consult me?! I live here, too!”

I prepared for my father to yell back. He said nothing.

My mom was furious. “Answer me!”

He turned his head ever so slightly in our direction. I was the only one to notice how my father didn’t answer. Stubborn man.

My mom’s anger drained, leaving her face pale and embarrassed. “Derek,” she breathed, frozen.

Derek forced a smile. “Ms. Brant.”

“Anderson,” my father and mother corrected in unison.

My embarrassment hit a 10 on the humiliation scale. I could have died.

Derek’s smile faltered for a brief moment. “My apologies.”

My mother seemed to have recovered and was suddenly eager to get rid of me. “Have fun at the party, you two.” She spoke carefully—afraid.

I ducked my head and half-ran from my house to Derek’s car. The sooner I could escape the better. I didn’t even allow Derek to open my door. He did slowly shut it. I had to give him some satisfaction of being a gentleman.

Not soon enough, Derek was buckling his seatbelt and igniting the engine. Too soon, we were sitting in Sarah’s driveway. Derek switched the engine off.

“So,” he started slowly, “your parents divorced?”

“Not yet.” I sighed. I had my eyes closed and my head against the headrest.

He knew I was unhappy. “You want to talk about it?”

I looked at him. “No, I want to party.”

Neither of us got out of his Mustang. Neither of us smiled.

I gave a short chuckle. “Sorry, Derek, my family’s messed up. Don’t worry about it.”

My apology didn’t surprise him. He just shrugged. “Whose isn’t?”

We smiled. Party time.

As we approached Sarah’s house, two burly boys were laughingly shoving one another outside the front door. Each held a bucket—for beer money. Gotta love high school. Being King and Queen, we didn’t have to pay a cent. Gotta love being popular. The two boys smiled dopily at me. I rolled my eyes. Whatever.

The pounding bass with a driving beat shook the frame of Sarah’s house. Half of the school seemed to be crammed between the walls—it wasn’t even six thirty, yet the couches were all occupied; girls were half-dressed, dancing with each other; the house was uncomfortably hot and dark.

To be honest, the party made me sick. Boys called out my name, slurring and butchering even Derek’s pet name for me. Girls, those not dancing, were sucking faces with the boys not chugging beer or hitting on me. Sarah was most likely somewhere in the mix with Matt, her boy toy. I didn’t want to find out.

One of Derek’s buddies handed him two drinks and winked, pointing at the one in his left. I shook my head, refusing the drink. “My subjects must be visited.” I patted Derek’s chest and scouted out the house.

The upstairs, at the moment, remained untouched. I managed to find Sarah’s bedroom. It surprised me when I saw how impeccably tidy it was. I smirked. As I came downstairs, Derek motioned to me. I merely smiled alluringly and turned my back.

I had already seen the living, family, and dining rooms—all connected and crammed full of teenagers. The powerful stereo was plugged and deafeningly loud in the family room. I passed through the kitchen, bypassed the kegs, and headed to the basement.

I may have loved parties, but I sucked at partying. I was looking for my party niche. As I stumbled down the cluttered steps, whoops and hollers gave away the geek party. I rounded a corner and was immediately surprised by what I saw yet again. A projector, hanging from the ceiling, was projecting an image five feet in length and three and a half feet in height. A dozen or so boys were all pointing and screaming at the screen, a half dozen playing some video game.

I smiled. I was home.

A small group of guys and girls were playing strip poker in a corner. I rolled my eyes. I turned my attention back to Sarah’s sweet setup. I would die to have a home theater system.

“Mick!”

I looked over at Ron, surprised. I hadn’t expected him to be here. Ron came over to me.

“Hey!” He said, “What are you doing down here?”

I smiled. “Enjoying the party—same as you, Ron.”

Ron chuckled. “You think I’m enjoying this crappy party.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m getting my ass kicked!”

I laughed. “Ah, I see.”

Ron pulled me over to the other guys and introduced me. I didn’t bother trying to remember their names. Some guys with brown eyes and brown hair asked if I wanted to play. I shook my head, denying that I had any skills with a controller whatsoever.

Ron teased me. “What? No good at video games?”

“Girls aren’t designed for video games.” I informed him.

He laughed. “You mean, video games aren’t designed for girls!”

The other boys joined in his laughter. I smiled. I had never seen Ron so at ease. I rolled my eyes at them and told them firmly that I wouldn’t play—even to help their egos.

“Aw, you’re no fun, Mick.” Ron nudged me.

“Nope,” I replied. “Not at all.”

“I don’t agree.” Warm hands suddenly slipped around my waist. Startled, I jumped and heard a low chuckle. It was Derek. I playfully slapped him for frightening me. I turned in his arms and kissed his nose.

Ron turned back to his buddies and I quickly forgot he was there at all.

Derek’s eyes flicked to the poker game. “Wanna play?”

I raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. “I don’t play.”

He gave me a disappointed look.

“Queen, remember? I have to keep some sense of mystery.”

His muscles tightened then released within a split second. “Of course…” He muttered.

His eyes half-closed. I knew what was coming. Closing my eyes in anticipation, I raised myself on my tiptoes. Our lips lightly met. I felt his lips part against mine. I involuntarily arched my back, my fingers sliding through his hair. A giggle escaped with a gasp as he moaned, a very sick puppy. As I melted into him, a strange taste entered my mouth. It was foreign—not sweet, not honey. It was beer—ick.

“Ooooh!”

We broke apart.

Sarah looked up from the game, her bra strap sliding dangerously off her shoulder. She ‘ooooh’ed again. A crooked smile played on her lips. Matt sat beside her, one hand under the table. He acknowledged us with a mischievous smile. The rest of the poker players paused long enough to see who were distracting Sarah and Matt.

“Micky and Derek…Aaaaaaw.” She whined. Out of the corner of my eye, Ron’s shoulder’s tensed.

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Sarah and Matt. Nice party, Sarah.”

She gave a smile that mirrored Matt’s. “Happy Halloween, Micky.”

I ignored her. “Come one, Derek. Let’s go upstairs. I’m hungry.”

We tripped back up the stairs to the main level. When we entered the kitchen, Derek received a joyous raucous of hellos. He returned them all good-naturedly.

I hoisted myself onto the counter and watched Derek raid the snacks. He swallowed a mouthful and said, “Here, open your mouth.”

He backed up a few steps and took aim at my mouth. He shot the cracker at my nose. I erupted into giggles as the cracker went flying. Some boy gave us an annoyed look, and Derek and I laughed harder.

Derek came back to the counter. I caught his sleeve and pulled him toward me. He put his arms around me and locked his wrists together. I pulled him closer and kissed him. His lips smiled against mine.

Derek pushed me back, forcing my back toward the counter. I grunted. I pushed Derek off me and looked at my sleeve. It was covered in pizza sauce. I had dragged my elbow through the hot pizza in the box right next to me.

“I blame you.” I told Derek.

Derek laughed and said, “Sorry.”

He retrieved some napkins, and the two of us worked on the pizza stain. I sighed. So much for the making out.

“My head hurts,” I complained, “Let’s go outside.”

He nodded and escorted me to the deck, illuminated by a harsh fluorescent light. I leaned against the rail. It was much quieter out here—well, the party could still be heard, but it was muffled.

“Finally, alone,” he muttered, looking into my face.

I looked up at him when he spoke those two words. “We’re at a party, Derek. Being alone is impossible.”

He snorted. “True.” He faced me. “But we’re alone enough.”

I studied him, expecting his eyes to betray his serious tone. They didn’t. I had to ask, feeling foolish, “Enough for what?”

Derek didn’t reply at first. Amazingly, I could hear the crickets, cicadas, and bull frogs noisily have a party of their own. I secretly hoped it wasn’t better than Sarah’s.

Derek was gazing into the low full moon, lost in thought, not answering me.

“What is it?” I asked; an anxious tightening of my stomach unnerved me.

Derek faced me. I reached up and brushed his too long bangs out of his crystal brown eyes. I brushed my fingertips along his cheek. “Tell me,” I whispered.

He blinked slowly, walls falling at my touch. “I’m moving to New Jersey.”

He paused, waiting for realization to dawn on me.

“What?” I asked, as if I hadn’t heard. My stomach churned. I had heard him all too clearly. I felt the tears well up.

Derek comfortingly took me in his arms. “I know I probably should have told you earlier, but I really couldn’t bring myself to break your heart.”

I buried my face in his letter jacket. I didn’t want to hear his good bye. I fought back my tears. I wouldn’t cry in public—I was still Queen.

“When?” I managed to weakly croak, my throat suddenly tight and dry.

“In two weeks…November seventeenth.”

Two more weeks. Just two weeks.

“Derek?” I whispered.

“Yes?”

I closed my eyes. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m sorry…I have no choice.” He sounded sincerely apologetic. I couldn’t bring myself to check. I didn’t want to look at him yet.

“Well, then, you might as well break my heart thoroughly.”

Derek drew me away from him so that he could look into my eyes. “Pessimist.”

I turned dull eyes to him.

“No, Micky, no, two weeks—two weeks to live, laugh, learn…to be together.” He searched my face.

“And break my heart again.”

“I’m not saying good bye now, Micky. You understand that, right?”

I hoped he noticed the flame of fire that burned for a brief moment in my eyes. “I am saying good bye. You understand that, right?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Why?”

My eyes were lifeless again. “To save you the trouble of breaking my heart. I’m helping you out.”

I turned to the moon Derek had been studying not too many moments ago. Derek dropped his hands from my waist.

“Take me home now, please.” I spoke to Sarah’s backyard.

Derek paused in the doorway of Sarah’s house. “I don’t want things to be tense between us, but I’m afraid that it’ll be inevitable.”

I stared blankly at him over my shoulder.

“I’m not taking you anywhere, Micky. Have a nice life.” Derek stepped over the threshold and disappeared in the sea of teenagers. I watched him weave through the sea and exit the front door.

I was alone on Sarah’s deck. I listened to my heart as a chunk fell away, breaking into uneven halves. They would have split evenly had Derek Jameson been leaving for good, but he wasn’t gone or done yet. I could feel it in my bones. He wasn’t gone for sure, and my heart still had a long fall to go.

I went back inside, not quite ready to head home. I descended the stairs to the basement again and rounded the corner. The boys were still playing video games, and the strip poker game was almost over.

Ron looked up at me. His lips were set in a grim line. “Where’s Derek?” He asked suspiciously.

“He’s gone.”

“He didn’t take you home?”

“No.”

Ron was about to ask me why but he looked closer at my face and decided that something was wrong. “Are you okay?” He asked.

I collapsed beside him on the couch. “I broke up with him.”

Ron’s eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

I nodded, sinking into the cushions.

Ron scooted closer to me and put his arm around me. “You gonna be okay, Mick?”

I shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”

“Why did you break up?”

“He’s moving.”

“Where?”

“New Jersey.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

Ron looks me in the eye. “Why did you break up with him? You still have two weeks.”

I turned my face away. “It’s complicated, Ron.”

He took my chin and turned my face back to him. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

I sighed and said, “I don’t know.”

He smiled softly and said, “Hold still for a second.”

He leaned forward and kissed my lips.

“How was that?” He asked.

I gave him a small smile. “It’s distracting.”

“Good.”

He leaned forward and kissed me again, this time slower and deeper. He worked across my jaw. I played with his blue-tipped hair as he kissed my neck. I gave him the satisfaction of kissing me but never kissed him back.

Ron stopped and frowned. “You need time alone, Mick. I can’t help you.”

I studied his face. “What makes you say that?”

He smiled. “You are utterly unresponsive.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s you, Ron.”

“What about me, Mick? Not good enough for you, eh?”

I laughed and said, “Maybe I do need time alone. I could do with some thinking time.”

He grinned. “Want me to take you home?”

I shook my head. “Naw, I’ll walk home. I live right down the street.”

Ron nodded slowly. “All right, Mick. I’ll see you at school Monday.”

“Good bye, Ron.” I said. I stood up and pretended not to notice Sarah and Matt making out on another couch. I went upstairs and pushed my way to the front door.

I walked myself home. The streets were far from empty. Hundreds of trick-or-treaters went door-to-door, hunting down the sugary goodness. But when I looked down the street, taking in kids in costumes, teens in couples, weary parents, bright lights, loud screams, I saw none of this. Instead my brain picked out the little uninviting house several hundred feet away. The dark home called to me, tempting me. My gaze slid to the crowded street, horns blaring as drivers attempted to drive down my street. Share the road.

I involuntarily stepped into the road, my eyes staring down the empty street. I longed to roam. My watch dictated my schedule. It was in league with my parents. It told me it was time to go home. Time to lay down my head and sleep. Not time to wander.

A slamming horn broke my daydream. An angry driver hastily gave me the finger. I instinctively returned the gesture but stepped out of the street. The world slid away again.

Derek would be gone soon. Once he was gone, my power would be stripped, reducing me to geek material—no, lower, to a nobody. As a nobody, I could rebuild my heart, stronger and less shallow. Then I could get on with my life, bringing my grades back up and achieving that scholarship that my parents wanted so badly.

Yeah, right.

I found myself on my doorsteps. I suddenly realized I was freezing. I shivered and rubbed my hands against my bare arms. I gave the “empty” street one last look before pulling out my key and entered my house. If I was lucky, my parents would have fled to their rooms by now. It was 11:45 pm. Where had the time gone?

“Michelle Christina Brant!” came a harsh whisper from the living room on my left.

“Mom!” I said, startled.

“Do you have any idea how late it is?” My mom turned on a lamp, momentarily blinding the both of us.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then why are you so late?”

“Lost track of time,” I mumbled. It sounded lame out loud.

“Well, you have a busy weekend ahead of you. To bed now!”

My brow furrowed at her statement. “What?”

Her eyes turned to stone. “Your father and I spoke about your behavior and grades. We managed to agree we weren’t pushing you hard enough,” She seemed a little disgusted by this, “so you will be cleaning your room, mowing the lawn, and studying your ass off.”

I blinked. It could be worse.

“Oh, also your computer has been removed from your room. No more extracurricular use.”

It was worse. Snap! Just like that—privileges gone, time no longer mine.

Real Micky whispered to me: you need this. You’re on the edge of failing.

I nodded, and my mom took it to mean that I understood. I was only beginning to understand. Life was turning into the monster that it really was.

Somewhere, Real Micky whispered again: at least Mom and Dad agreed on something.

I snorted at the thought and headed up to my room. Nothing better to bring your parents closer than a disappointing child.

I fell asleep on my bed completely dressed, not even bothering to flip my shoes off.