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

  Upstairs, Vi was still in gym clothes, putting a bowl into the dishwasher. “Morning!” she said. “Will you run the dishwasher when you’re done?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Were you working out?”

  “I do the HardCore3000 videos. Have you ever tried them? Incredible. You should do it with me tomorrow morning.”

  “Um . . . maybe.” I tended to sit on my ass whenever it wasn’t soccer season. But maybe Vi’s athleticism would inspire me. Or not. “Is there anything to eat for breakfast?”

  “Not much,” she said. “There’s some cinnamon raisin bread in the freezer. We really need to go grocery shopping after school.”

  We’d been planning on shopping the day before, but it had snowed all day. Well, that and we’d been too hung over to leave the house. Not hung over in a sick way—just tired and happy. Saturday night had been so much fun. Sure, it had been a bit weird with Noah—since he’d driven people home, we never got any alone time. But there’d be plenty of time for that.

  “Should we meet back here around five and go together?” she asked. “I have an Issue meeting after class or else we could take one car to school.”

  “Yeah, let’s meet here then.” The Issue was the school paper. Every month they chose a different theme and all the articles had to be about that. Last semester they’d done Family, Sports, Health, and Holidays. “So what are your next issues?”

  “No January issue, but February is bullying, and I’m thinking March will be sex,” she said and then disappeared into her bathroom.

  Sex? I guess I wouldn’t be the cover story.

  After I finished eating, I loaded my plate into the dishwasher and scoped out the situation. I had never actually run a dishwasher before. That was something my mom did, and then Penny or my dad. I was more of the unloading type.

  How hard could it be?

  First, the soap. Probably under the sink. Yes! Seventh Generation Dish Soap! I took out the white container, squirted it into the welcoming square, closed the door, and pressed START. All right, then. I headed back downstairs, where I brushed my teeth, put on makeup, and grabbed my car keys.

  And then.

  I got to the top of the basement stairs to find Vi on the kitchen floor on all fours with a dish towel, surrounded by a flood of white, foamy bubbles.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I think you used the wrong soap,” she said calmly.

  “I am so sorry.” My cheeks burned and I felt like a complete idiot. “Let me get it. Where are the paper towels?”

  “Under the sink. But I think a towel-towel would work better.”

  I grabbed the other dish towel and crouched down beside her. We mopped up the rest of the mess in silence. Great start to the year, April!

  After we were done she said, “Will you just put these towels in the wash? I’ll run it when I get home.”

  “I can run—” I started but she gave me a look and I decided that having a brief seminar on all the appliances was not a terrible plan under the circumstances. “Okay.”

  By the time I hurried down to the washing machine (which was in my bathroom downstairs), and then back up, Vi had almost contained the situation. “You better go on. It’s going to take you a while to clean off your car.”

  “Right. Thanks,” I said. It was a one-car garage and my car was just outside in the driveway. “I’ll see you at school.”

  I stepped into my boots, zipped up my coat, and braced myself for the cold. And there it was. Penny’s car. My car. Buried under two feet of snow. Excellent. I wiped the snow off with my gloves, then used the scraper on the windows. Once my gloves were soaking, my wrists were frozen, and I was done, I tossed my schoolbag into the passenger side, and climbed in. It felt strange to sit in the driver’s seat of Penny’s car. When I drove—which I hardly ever did—I always took my dad’s car. A blood relative would hate you less than an inherited one if you scratched his vehicle.

  I stuck the keys in the ignition and turned. And turned again.

  Nothing.

  One more time for good luck.

  Still nothing.

  Agh! I banged my head against the steering wheel. My dad was right. I should have started the car over the weekend. What was wrong with me? How was I going to manage on my own if I couldn’t even run the dishwasher or start my own car?

  I took a deep, icy breath.

  I could just go with Vi and get a ride back with Noah. Although this was the exact reason I had gotten the car in the first place—so I wouldn’t have to depend on other people to get around.

  If I called Noah now, then at least we’d get to talk. Last semester, he’d picked me up every day. But then I’d been on his way, and now I was not. Anyway, driving with Vi made more sense, since we lived together.

  The garage door opened. Vi’s car was running inside. I immediately spotted the problem with my plan to catch a ride with her. My car was blocking hers.

  In her rearview mirror, I saw her slap her palm against her forehead.

  Vi was going to rue the day she invited me to move in.

  ROAD TRIP

  Vi called Dean and Hudson to come get us.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told them through Dean’s rolled-down Jeep window.

  “Are you kidding?” Dean asked. “This is the highlight of my day. I get to be the knight in shining armor!”

  “Technically, I’m the knight,” Hudson said. “Since I’m driving.”

  “Dean, get in the back, and let me sit in the front,” Vi said. “Two guys in the front is ridiculously chauvinistic.”

  “It’s our car,” Dean protested.

  “My car,” Hudson said. “Technically.”

  “I don’t care whose car it is,” Vi said. She pointed to Dean. “Out.”

  “Fine,” Dean said, popping open the Jeep door. “But if I’m in the back, so are you.”

  “Wahoo!” I cheered. “Shotgun!”

  As we all climbed into our spots, I looked over at Hudson. Those cheekbones! Jeez. It was almost a shame to waste them on a guy. If I didn’t have Noah, I don’t think I’d be able to talk to Hudson without freezing up. “Thanks for being my knight,” I told him.

  He smiled. “My pleasure. Do you want me to try jump-starting your car? I have cables.”

  “Oh. Thanks. I don’t want to make us even later, though. I’m really sorry about this. My dad warned me I should start it every day in the winter, but I was feeling rebellious.”

  “Rebelling against parents you don’t even live with. I like it.” He took the car out of PARK and headed down the street.

  “It’s easier to rebel when no one’s around to see it. I’m wimpy like that.”

  He shook his head. “You seem pretty gutsy to me. I don’t know that many girls who would move out on their own at sixteen.”

  I blinked. Gutsy? Me? I moved in with Vi because I was afraid of leaving my life behind. I was the opposite of gutsy. Instead of admitting that, I sat up straighter. “I’m not exactly on my own. I have Vi.”

  “And Zelda,” Vi piped in.

  “Who’s Zelda?” I asked.

  “Didn’t I tell you about the ghost that lives in the oven?”

  I turned around to face her. “No. You did not.”

  “Personally, I think the creaks are because the oven is from 1972, but my mother is convinced they’re from a ghost. Zelda.”

  “Did someone die in the house or something?”

  “No, my mother is just crazy,” she said. “She was convinced we had a ghost. And that the ghost committed suicide in our oven, Sylvia Plath style. Which doesn’t even make sense, because our oven is electric.”

  I wasn’t sure why one couldn’t kill oneself in an electric oven, but decided not to ask.

  “Great to know,” I said instead. “Whenever you’re out and I want company, I’ll talk to Zelda.”

  “Why don’t you get a parrot?” Dean asked. “At least he would talk back.”

  Vi slapped his knee. “Why would
you assume the parrot is a male?”

  He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. At least she would talk back.”

  I narrowed my eyes and gave an exaggerated wag of my finger. “Oh sure, if an animal talks a lot it must be female.”

  “Gutsy and funny,” Hudson said, making me blush. “Vi, where have you been hiding her?” He looked over at me and smiled.

  “In the oven,” Vi and I answered simultaneously.

  LATE

  By the time we got to school, we were fifteen minutes late.

  The front door was locked and we had to buzz. Once you had to buzz you were done for. We did the walk of shame to the office.

  “You’re late,” the school secretary said, handing all four of us tardy slips.

  “Doreen, we apologize profusely,” Dean said, nodding solemnly.

  “It was my fault,” I said. “Car died.”

  “The funeral will be after school,” Dean added. “It would mean a lot to all of us if you could make it.”

  “Next time we call your parents,” she said, cracking a smile.

  I tried to maintain my gutsy image, but inside I was freaking as I took my slip. “I am so, so, so sorry,” I said as we exited the office.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hudson said.

  “Shit happens,” Vi told me as she waved good-bye and ran up the stairs to the second floor.

  Dean put his arm around me. “I said it before and I’ll say it again: highlight of my day. It can only be downhill from here.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for coming to get us.”

  Hudson rolled his eyes at his brother, then turned to me. “Let me know if you want me to jump-start your car after school,” he said.

  “Thanks. I might take you up on it.”

  “Anytime,” Hudson said over his shoulder as he hurried down the hall.

  Gutsy, huh? I straightened my shoulders and headed to class.

  ON THE WAY TO CALCULUS

  “So how was night number two?” Marissa asked when we met up after English and walked down the hall to AP Calculus. “Tell me everything.”

  “Fun. We made spaghetti. We watched TV. Stayed up late chatting.”

  “Oooo, I’m so jealous,” she said with a sigh.

  “Well, on the less fabulous side, I didn’t bother to start my car on Sunday, and now the battery’s dead.” I stopped myself before adding the bit about this morning’s soap explosion, feeling uncomfortably ashamed at how little I’d managed to do right since moving into Vi’s. “But, whatever. What did you do?”

  “Finished my Israel application,” she said. “Finally.”

  “Congrats!”

  Marissa was applying for a summer program called the Kinneret Israel trip. The association of camps she went to every year sent fifty juniors on an all-expense-paid trip to Israel. Aaron, her summer boyfriend, and Shoshanna and Brittany, her summer best friends, had applied too.

  I was jealous.

  Marissa’s camp friends had her all summer.

  “When do you hear?” I asked, following her into our calculus room. A part of me hoped she wouldn’t get in. A terrible, selfish, worst-best-friend-ever part.

  “Sometime in March,” she said.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  A second later, Lucy Michaels, aka the spy who liked to make amateur videos, strolled in and sat down beside us. “How’s your car?” she asked me, eyes open wide.

  “Um . . .” How did she know about my car? “Fine.”

  “Yeah? It looked really snowed in this morning.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was. How did you see my car?”

  “I live two houses down from Vi.”

  “Oh.” That wasn’t good.

  “So how come you’ve been staying at Vi’s?” Lucy asked. “You’ve been there since Saturday.”

  Stalker . . .

  “My dad moved to Ohio so I moved in,” I said. “With Vi. And her mom.” She could not find out that Vi’s mom wasn’t there. She could not.

  Lucy gave me a calculated smile. “Very interesting.”

  Ms. Franklin came in. She was in her early thirties and was one of those young, hot teachers who wore cute outfits. All the guys had a thing for her. “Hope you’re all ready,” she said, clapping her hands. “I’m going to keep you on your toes this semester.”

  I snuck a peek at Lucy, fearing Ms. Franklin wasn’t the only one.

  I SEE YOU

  Marissa and I rushed out of class before Lucy could follow. At the door we spotted Noah and Corinne walking out of Mr. Gregory’s economics class across the hall. My stomach sank. Now I had two things to worry about during calculus—Lucy hanging all over me, and Corinne hanging all over Noah. I hated that I had no classes with him, and she had at least one. As I watched the two of them share a laugh about who knows what, my shoulders tensed up again. I was probably being paranoid over nothing, but if Corinne happened to get selected for a prestigious high school internship in northern Siberia, I wouldn’t be the slightest bit upset. If only she could go on the Israel trip instead of Marissa.

  “Hey, Noah,” Marissa called.

  He looked up and blinked, caught with his pants down. Well, not really, obviously, but he had a guilty air about him that did nothing to reassure me.

  “Hey!” he called, abandoning Corinne and crossing the hallway. “What’s up?”

  He kissed me on the lips, but it did not make me feel better.

  Why did he have to talk to her at all? Couldn’t they just ignore each other? It was so ridiculous. I tried to relax my shoulders so it looked like I wasn’t annoyed. “Hey, babe,” I said, resting my hand on his shoulder. I wouldn’t let her get to me. He was my boyfriend. And I had my own house. Plus my own car. She was nothing. A fly on my arm. I shook her off and walked with Noah down the stairs. And smack into Hudson.

  “Hey,” he said. “So do you want me to come over after school to jump-start your car?”

  Noah looked from him to me. “What’s happening?”

  I explained the car issue I’d had that morning. “Would you know how to start it?” I asked Noah.

  “Um . . .” He blushed. “I have a Triple A membership.”

  Hudson nodded. “I can do it. No problem.” He turned to me. “Want to meet me at my car after class?”

  “I’ll take her home,” Noah said, putting his arm around me. “Meet us at the house.”

  “Sure, whatever you say.”

  Hmm. Maybe we should fix Corinne and Hudson up and call it a day.

  A HOP, SKIP, AND A JUMP

  “There you go,” Hudson said as my car roared to life.

  “Thank you! You’re the best!” I cheered.

  Noah, who was standing beside me, flinched. Whoops. I took his hand.

  Hudson started removing the cables. “Let it run for about thirty minutes to recharge the battery and then you should be good.”

  “Thanks again,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah. Thanks,” Noah said.

  “No problem at all.”

  We all stood around for a second, and then Hudson said, “Okay, well, I’ll see you kids around,” then hopped in his car.

  “Did he just call us ‘kids’?” Noah asked after he drove away.

  “I do believe so.” I pulled Noah back toward the house. “Wanna go downstairs, kid?” I asked.

  “I thought you were going grocery shopping.”

  “Not till five,” I told him. “And I mean, do you want to go downstairs?” I leaned in and kissed him so he’d know what I meant. I wanted him to know that Hudson coming to my rescue with the jumper cables didn’t mean a thing.

  He looked at his watch.

  “Half an hour,” I said. “Plenty of time.” I gave him what I hoped was a sly, sexy grin.

  “It’s just, I got stuff I gotta take care of before dinner,” he said.

  What?

  I was suggesting we both lose our virginity right that very minute on my brand-new futon in total privacy, and he w
as worried about stuff he had to take care of?

  Was there something seriously wrong?

  Was he upset about Hudson coming over?

  “Just come down for fifteen minutes, then,” I told him, tracing my hand up his forearm. “I really missed you over break.”

  “I gotta motor, April,” he said. “I already spent too long over here.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “So I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, cutie?”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  “Good.” He smiled at me. I loved those dimples.

  I did my French homework alone until Vi finally showed a half an hour later. I bounded up the stairs and called, “Hi, honey, you’re home! Let’s go shopping! I’ll drive.”

  “Wow, are you always this perky après school? Let’s move. And I can drive.”

  FRANKLY, VI, I DON’T GIVE A . . . WAIT, WHAT?

  The first ten minutes of grocery shopping were fun. Vi tossed various things in our cart while I watched in awe (French bread! Taco shells! Strawberry cream cheese!). The next ten minutes were less fun. (It was like a maze in there.) The ten minutes after that were painful.

  “Grocery shopping is much more annoying than I thought it would be,” I said, while struggling to maneuver the cart around a sharp corner in the freezer department.

  “You make it sound like you’ve never been grocery shopping before.”

  “I haven’t. Well, not recently. Penny did all the shopping. And my mom hardly ever brought us along.”

  Vi looked at me like I was from another planet. “I’ve done the shopping since I was about ten. But speaking of stuff you haven’t done . . . why haven’t you and Noah had sex yet? Haven’t you been together for over two years? If you have to be in a relationship, you may as well be getting sex out of it.”

  “We’re working on it,” I said. Any day now.

  “It’s hardly work, darling,” Vi laughed. “It’s leisure.”

  “We could never get any privacy when I lived at my dad’s. I didn’t want to do it in the back of a car.”

  Vi nodded knowingly. “So now it’ll be any day, yeah?”

  You’d think. Wouldn’t you? But now I wasn’t so sure.