Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn't Have) Read online

  “They’re selling already,” Vi said. “Didn’t they just move in?”

  “A year and a half ago.”

  “Fast.”

  A year and a half seemed like a lifetime ago for me. Two years earlier I lived behind those blinds with my mother and brother. Double that and my father lived there too.

  “We should go inside,” Vi said.

  “No one’s home.”

  “I bet there’s a window open or something.”

  “You want to break into my old house?” I said. I thought about the back door and how we used to keep an extra key under the mat. I wondered if it was still there. I almost told Vi, but I knew she’d want to go for it, and I wasn’t sure I did. I wasn’t sure if it would make me feel better or worse. Looking at my house made me feel rooted. It should have made me feel the opposite, but it didn’t. Once upon a time, my whole family had lived here together. And yeah, maybe everyone else had left, but my street was still here. My house was still here. I was still here.

  Last woman standing.

  “Let’s go home,” Vi said, startling me.

  Home. Where was home? What was home?

  I swallowed and put the car into DRIVE. My chest tightened as we pulled away.

  LET THE PARTY BEGIN

  Stan and two other Party On! employees arrived on Sunday to set up our hot tub. Our beautiful, glorious, flamingo-pink hot tub, with preheated water and cup holders. Squee!

  “We probably didn’t really need a hot tub,” Vi said.

  “Of course we don’t need a hot tub. Nobody needs a hot tub. We want a hot tub. We are two hot girls living on our own. Why shouldn’t we have a hot tub?” I said.

  “Good point.”

  We watched them through the glass doors.

  “But it’s twenty degrees outside,” I said. “Do you think we might lose body parts if we try it tonight?” The backyard was covered in snow. Even the sound was frozen over.

  “We might,” she said. “On the other hand . . .”

  “How could we not?”

  When they were done, Stan knocked and waved. “All set! Wanna test this baby out?” he called through the glass.

  “You know he just wants to see us in our bathing suits,” I muttered to Vi.

  “Tell me about it,” Vi said. “I think he’s kind of cute, though.”

  “Lose-your-virginity cute?”

  “Not that cute,” she said, sliding open the door. She called out, “I think we’ll wait for the weather to warm up a bit.”

  “But there’s nothing like hot water on a freezing day,” he said.

  I paid Stan installment number two and told him I’d come by the store with the rest of the money on March 1.

  “Don’t forget to test the pH levels and add chlorine every few days,” he told us as he left.

  Maybe next month. This month we couldn’t afford it.

  ROOM FOR THREE

  On the other side of the glass door, the hot tub bubbled.

  “Should we do it?” I asked.

  “We should.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’ll count. One. Two. Three!” She slid the door open and we ran. We dropped our robes (Cold legs! Cold feet! Really cold boobs!), scrambled over the plastic rim, and jumped in.

  Ow, ow, ow! “It hurts! It hurts!” I cried. And then . . . ahhhhhhh. I closed my eyes and let my body melt. Heaven. “This is amazing,” I said. “Hula, you’re amazing.”

  Vi murmured in agreement and then we soaked in silence.

  “I feel bad that you paid for it,” Vi said eventually.

  I opened my eyes and saw her watching me, biting her lip. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

  “You should take it with you next year,” she suggested.

  I tilted my head back and looked up at the stars. The sky was huge and dark and sparkly. “Take it . . . where exactly?”

  She laughed. “Well, you’ll have to go somewhere! Or you can always stay here with my mom. If she ever comes back.”

  “I thought she was coming home for a weekend at some point.”

  Vi shrugged. “Yeah. I’m kidding. She will. Of course she’s coming back.”

  “Do you miss her?” I asked.

  “I miss having her here,” Vi said slowly. “But I don’t miss taking care of her.”

  “Do you want to live in a dorm next year?” I cupped water in my hand and poured it over my shoulders.

  “Can’t wait. Not having to buy groceries. Pay bills. Be responsible.” She laughed. “And nothing says ‘responsible’ like buying a hot tub.”

  “It’s our responsibility to relax once in a while. We’re stressed enough as it is.”

  I saw a shadow race across the deck. “Oh crap. Was that Donut?”

  “No, the door is closed.”

  I saw another shadow. A taller shadow. “Hello?” I said into the darkness.

  Creak.

  “Did you hear that?” Vi asked.

  My heart pounded. “Yes. It was from behind the stairs. Are you expecting anyone?”

  “No.”

  Creak.

  “Zelda? Is that you?” Vi asked, her voice higher than usual.

  Lucy stepped into the porch light.

  “Hi, guys,” she said, her eyes glowing. She was wearing a black winter coat that came down to her ankles and gray boots. I sank back into the water, pressing my hand to my chest.

  “Jesus, Lucy, you scared us half to death,” Vi said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw the Party On! guys earlier and I thought I’d come by and see what’s up.”

  “We have a doorbell,” Vi said.

  “I rang. No one answered so I’ve been hanging out back here with you.”

  Vi and I looked at each other.

  “For how long exactly?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Oh, long enough.”

  Creepy. For several moments, none of us spoke. Finally I said, “Um . . . can we help you with something?”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I want in.”

  “Into . . . the hot tub?” I asked.

  “No. Yes. But also into your little group.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Come on. I know about your parents. Or more accurately, your lack thereof. I know it’s just the two of you living here. I’ve been listening. And following. And I know about your soirées and your taco dinners and your trips to Planned Parenthood. I know everything.” She stepped closer, and once again she smiled. It was creepy and disturbing and wrong in so many ways. “So unless you want me to tell my mother everything I know, I want in.”

  Holy crap. I grabbed Vi’s wrist under the water and squeezed. Psycho. Then I started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  Vi started to laugh too.

  “I’m glad you find me so amusing,” Lucy huffed.

  “If you want in that badly . . .” I started.

  Vi shrugged. “Then get in. But you better keep your mouth shut.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Do we have a choice?” I asked.

  Lucy kicked off her boots and unzipped her coat, revealing a purple one-piece and a . . . holy crap, a kick-ass body. She slipped into the tub. Vi and I exchanged glances. Who knew?

  “Oh, that’s hot!” she cried, lifting herself partially back out. “Ahhh,” she said eventually, sliding back in.

  “You know,” Vi commented, “I’ve never been blackmailed before.”

  “Me neither,” I said.

  “I always thought that it would happen eventually,” Vi said, “but I assumed it would be for having an illicit affair.”

  “You’re having an illicit affair?” Lucy asked.

  Vi put her hand in front of Lucy’s mouth. “I said you could get in. I did not say you could talk.”

  “Vi! Be nice,” I said. If all Creepy Lucy wanted was to hang out with us, we could make that happen. At least she wouldn’t rat
us out.

  “Fine,” Vi said. “But can we all just be quiet and appreciate the hot tub?”

  I dipped my head back, looked up at the sky, and for the first time in months, felt myself truly relax.

  number five

  lost our virginity

  I BET KOBE KNEW WHAT DAY IT WAS

  The Monday before the big V-Day weekend—and yes, when I said V-Day, I meant V-Day—I hinted at my plan. We were standing by Noah’s locker, and he was fiddling with his combination.

  “So,” I said. “You know what this weekend is, don’t you?”

  “The NBA All-Star Game?” he asked.

  “Ha, ha, ha.”

  “Sunday at four. Why?”

  He was kidding. He had to be. I stepped closer, twined my fingers through his, and said, “Okay . . . but do you have something planned for Saturday?”

  “All-Star Saturday Night.”

  “Huh?”

  “The slam dunk contest.”

  I stared at him, willing him to tell me he was joking.

  Did he really not remember? I’d been planning and waiting and working on the details for the last three weeks (Pills every night! Sex playlist! Exfoliating!), and he didn’t have a clue? “It’s Valentine’s Day,” I said pointedly.

  “I knew that,” he said, nodding. “I mean, I knew it was coming up but I didn’t realize it was . . . well, this Saturday.”

  “February fourteenth,” I said. “Every year.” He was acting like a weirdo, and it was making my stomach clench. “It’s also been a month.”

  “A month from what?”

  He was definitely kidding me. Here I was planning sex and he . . . barely remembered?

  “A month since my trip to the doctor.” A month since my boobs, hips, and tummy had begun expanding from the ingested hormones.

  He blinked. “So . . . Saturday’s the big night?”

  “If you want to.” I crossed my arms. He was ruining it. I didn’t want to help him by growing pouty, but I was having a hard time fighting it.

  “Of course I want to. Why wouldn’t I want to?” He looked at me all wide-eyed.

  Why wouldn’t he want to? Of course he wanted to. Breathe, April. Breathe.

  “So you’ll come over? And tell your parents you’re sleeping at RJ’s?”

  “I don’t know if I can do that on Valentine’s Day. They’d get suspicious. They already think it’s weird that . . .” He trailed off.

  “That what?”

  “That you live with someone else’s family.”

  My stomach felt queasy. I thought it was weird that I lived with another family too. But that didn’t mean I wanted Noah’s parents thinking about it.

  “Hey, come here,” he said, pulling me into him. “So this weekend, huh?”

  “This weekend,” I said.

  “I can’t wait.”

  I closed my eyes and let my cheek rest against his shirt.

  THE REAL JAKE BERMAN REMEMBERED

  From: Jake Berman

  Date: Tues, 10 Feb, 6:31 a.m.

  To: Suzanne Caldwell

  Subject: Valentine’s Day

  Suzanne,

  Wondering if you could do me a favor . . . when April was a little girl I always used to leave a chocolate heart under her pillow for Valentine’s Day. Do you think you could do that for me? Much appreciated.

  Best, Jake

  Sent From BlackBerry

  _______

  From: Suzanne Caldwell

  Date: Wed, 11 Feb, 4:40 P.M.

  To: Jake Berman

  Subject: RE: Valentine’s Day

  Dear Jake,

  Consider it done.

  All the very best,

  Suzanne

  DON’T GET TOO COMFY

  “What are you guys doing tonight?” Lucy asked, accosting me before calculus on Thursday morning.

  “Homework,” I told her. “I have an English paper to write.”

  She looked at me suspiciously.

  “She does,” Marissa said. I’d told her about Lucy’s midnight stalker episode, so she knew Lucy was now, um, part of the family. “Swear. We’re in the same class.”

  “So when can I come over again?” Lucy asked.

  “The next time we have a party,” I told her. I really did have an English paper due. But anyway, Vi and I had decided that Lucy could come to all our soirées, but that we didn’t want her hanging around all the time. There was something off about her. “You will one hundred percent be invited, promise.”

  “When’s the next party?” she asked, crossing her arms. “This weekend?”

  “Not this weekend,” I told her. “Definitely not this weekend. We’re kind of spontaneous. But whenever it is, you will be invited. I’ll text you.”

  “You don’t have to text me,” she said. “I’ll know.”

  “Remind me to check the cactus for a camera,” I mumbled to Marissa.

  THE LEOPARD’S SPOTS

  “So you’re absolutely positive you want to do this on a Friday the thirteenth?” I asked.

  “Too late now,” Vi said, blow-drying. “He’s on his way over.”

  “It’s not too late until the fat lady . . .” I put my hand on my hip. “Why would the fat lady sing?”

  She flipped her hair and shrugged. “It’s from the opera.”

  I sat on her bed and stretched out. The water moved beneath my body. “You don’t think Friday the thirteenth is a bad omen?”

  “No. I think it’s funny.”

  “If we were in a horror movie you would get hacked to death right after you have sex.”

  “Oh, hush. Are you sure you’re not just trying to stop me because you want to go first?”

  I pulled her duvet over my legs. “Why would I care that you’re going first?”

  “You’ve been with Noah for a long time. It seems like you should go first.”

  “You’re older. You should go first. You do everything first.”

  She considered. “True.”

  Vi had kissed a boy first. Vi had gotten her period first. Vi had gotten drunk first. Vi lived with one parent first. Vi was the trailblazer. Vi was gutsy. No matter what Hudson said, I was the follower.

  “So you’re not nervous?” I asked.

  “No. I’m excited.”

  “But Dean is your best friend. What if sex . . . changes that?”

  She shook her head. “It won’t. It’s not going to change anything for me. I’ll still think of him as a best friend. And what’s the worst that it does to him? Make him want to have sex with me all the time? He already wants to have sex with me all the time.”

  “But it could change the dynamic of the friendship.”

  “Not if I don’t let it. You can control these things.”

  “You can’t control everything,” I said.

  She smiled. “I can try.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t want to wait to be in love? Wait for the lightning?”

  “The what?”

  “You know—the lightning. The omigod, I’m in love.”

  “No. I don’t. Cheeseball.” She rolled her eyes. “So what are you doing tonight? Going out with Noah?”

  “No, he has a game in Ridgefield. Marissa and I are going to see a movie about a girl who loses her virginity on Friday the thirteenth and then gets hacked to death.”

  “Have fun. We should be done by the time you get back.”

  “Do you think he’ll stay over?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not! It’s not about cuddling. It’s about doing it.”

  “What if Dean wants to stay over?” Unlike Noah. No, that wasn’t fair. Noah wanted to. He just couldn’t.

  “He can sleep on the couch. Or in my mom’s room.”

  “What if he wants to sleep in your bed with you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear?”

  She purposefully ignored me.

  “So he has no id
ea what’s about to happen?” I asked.

  “I told him we needed to work on our economics project tonight.”

  “On a Friday night?”

  She waved her hands in the air. “He has no clue. I always tell him what he has to be working on. Honestly, I run his life. If he wasn’t in my homeroom he would fail out of school.”

  “So he thinks he’s coming over to work on a project and instead . . .”

  “Instead we’re going to have sex.”

  “But . . . what if he doesn’t want to have sex?” I asked.

  She snorted. “Of course he does. He’s a guy.”

  I left her to prepare for her night, trying not to think about the fact that Noah seemed almost uninterested in sex. Was he no longer into me? Was he into someone else?

  When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, I waited for Vi to get it but she was blow-drying and couldn’t hear.

  “Hey, Dean, what’s up?” I wasn’t sure if I should look at him or not. Kind of bizarro that I knew what was about to happen and he didn’t.

  “Hey,” he said. He was carrying his schoolbag. “Hope you’re up to something more fun than we are tonight.”

  Doubtful. “Just going to see a movie with Marissa. Leaving now actually. Let me go tell Vi you’re here.”

  I knocked on Vi’s door and then stuck my head in. Vi was wearing a plunging brown-and-black leopard leotard that tied up the front.

  “That is not from Victoria’s Secret,” I said. “That’s from Victoria’s Sluts.”

  “It’s actually from the drugstore. It was right next to the condoms. What, I don’t look hot? You wouldn’t sleep with me?”

  “Shush, he’s here,” I said, motioning with my head. “You look very hot. But I thought sleeping with your friend meant you wouldn’t have to try so hard.”

  “This isn’t trying,” she said. “This is me having fun. I’m not giving up the opportunity to wear leopard spots.”

  “Nice setup,” I said, looking around. The music was playing and she was clearly ready to rock. Or at least crawl on the floor and hunt gazelles. “Should I send him into the leopard’s den? Or are you gonna Hula first?”

  “Send him in,” she said, dimming the lights. “I’m ready.”

  I closed the door behind me and then waved at Dean, who was on the couch. “She’s all yours.” I laughed to myself. “Good luck.” I stepped into my shoes and grabbed my coat, and watched as he lazily walked away from me and toward her room. I wished I could see the reaction on his face when he opened the door. I stood on my tiptoes trying to watch. Door was opening . . . opening . . . opening. . . .