Then Everything Happens at Once, page 13
I stalk across the hall, then down the stairs, and slip on the same boots I had on earlier.
“Where are you going, Boss?” Mom asks.
“Out,” I say, then I’m outside.
All I can think is that Lara’s guy—the guy Taylor supposedly has a huge crush on—was Freddie, and I’m the one with the huge crush who’s in the way.
Outside, I take each step carefully, putting my weight on the fronts of my feet to ensure that I’m properly anchored to the ground, and make it down the street without falling on my ass.
Garrett isn’t on the walkway when I get there, and I guess that’s good for him because I might’ve just tackled him for the hell of it. When I near Freddie’s house, I dial his cell.
He picks up.
“Can you come outside and talk for a minute?” I say.
“You’re here?”
“Yes.”
There are muffled voices, then he comes back. “Okay.”
The call ends. I wait on the sidewalk until the garage door starts to rise. Freddie’s in his unlaced high-tops, staring at me with total confusion as he slips on his jacket. “What happened?”
“So you and Lara, huh? That’s like, a thing now?”
He turns his head away, the look on his face making it clear this is not a conversation he wants to be having. Along with the dread, there’s this expression of regret, like he’s mentally cursing all the things that led to him standing here, right now, in front of me.
Good—feel bad, Freddie. I like it.
“Okay, so you’re just not going to say anything, then?”
“I tried telling you about it, Bay,” he says. “I tried telling you a few times, actually, and then it seemed like you sort of knew what I was talking about but that you didn’t want to actually know.”
“You launched into some stupid, vague hypothetical. You could’ve been a little clearer. You could’ve been like, ‘Hey, Baylee, by the way, Lara and I are doing it.’”
“We’re not.” He shakes his head. “And you told me to keep it a secret, remember? I thought I was doing what you asked.”
“Oh god,” I say, clawing at the side of my head. “How did this even happen?”
He stares off into the night.
“No, I mean actually,” I say. “How did this start? She was your best friend’s girlfriend until, like, a week ago.”
“It hasn’t even started,” he says. “We were just hanging out for a bit before going to Rianne’s for your party. Nothing happened.”
“So you were just going to meet up with Trey at Rianne’s, with his ex-girlfriend as your date? That makes no sense.”
“I wasn’t going to do that. I would’ve dropped her off down the street—never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
Freddie stares at his phone in a way that draws my attention. I point to it. “Is she listening right now?”
Neighbors might be outside at this point. I’m not sure how loud I’m being. But the only thing I care about right now are my shoes and how fierce they look. They are elevating me, literally and also figuratively.
“So you’re going to be pissed at Lara for this?” Freddie says.
“Yes!” I throw my hands up. “Oh, and you. I’m going to be pissed at both of you.”
“Why, though?”
“Both of you set up these elaborate mind games. I’ve been an ignorant idiot this whole time, and I thought you . . .” I stare at him like he’s something that tastes sour. “You’re just an asshole, Freddie.”
He holds his hands out. “Why are you like this? You’re impossible to talk to.”
“I know I am.”
“Well? What is it?”
“I’m profoundly unhappy, okay? I am sick of everything. I’m sick of feeling like I’m the last to get picked in my own life.”
Freddie looks down at the ground and his arms fall to his sides. He seems awkward, intentionally avoiding looking up at me. And I get it. What could he possibly say? This is so much bigger than him.
It’s never me—why is it never me? What is wrong with me? I try so hard, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.
I take a deep breath. “Can you please do me a favor and tell Lara not to text me for a while?”
“Come on, Bay.”
“She should’ve known better. And you know what? You should have known better, too. On some level, you should have known this would be different.” I stare at the sky for a moment or two, long enough to let the truth come out to my lips. “You—you’re an asshole because your stupid vague words led me down a sparkly road. And her—well, she’s an asshole because she knew what this meant.”
Lara can come to school in a messy bun, mascara, a white tank top and sweats, and it’s fine. She can still draw them all in, including Freddie, apparently, without even trying. I could never pull that off because minimal effort means being a frumpy slob who needs a shower and is drawing attention to her fat rolls.
The unfairness of it all just kills me.
“Don’t text me for a while,” I say.
“Come on, Baylee. I knew it would be awkward, but is it this big of a deal?”
“Of course it is! How can you act like she hasn’t told you exactly why this is a huge deal?”
He waits, looking helpless, looking like he’s waiting for me to spell it out.
But why would I do that when my magnet feelings for him have just been flipped around, and all I feel is completely repelled?
“Don’t tell Trey,” he says. “Okay? Please?”
I walk down the sidewalk toward the walkway. He doesn’t follow me.
Sometimes I wonder if the way I feel about Freddie has more to do with me than it does with him. Were we ever really friends? My whole friendship with Freddie has been about me yearning for him to finally wake up and want me the way I want him. I just want his attention. Does he even know me if I’m never myself around him?
I just wanted him to want me back, and he fucking doesn’t.
He wants my best friend.
Twenty-One
I wake up and open my eyes, and for a split second, I firmly believe that the wild images in my mind and the intense sensations in the pit of my stomach are just part of a particularly vivid scenario I made up before going to sleep last night, contaminating my dreams. Was I really screaming precious, mortifying secrets at Freddie in the street? Did I really watch Lara having private time with him in his room? It all has to be make-believe.
[Rianne] What happened last night?
[Baylee] What do you mean? What did you hear?
[Rianne] Well, I had no power for almost 4 hours and you were supposed to text me back . . . remember??????
[Baylee] Oh, crap. I totally forgot. Last night ended up next-level sucking.
[Rianne] ????? What happened?
[Baylee] . . .
[Rianne] WAIT. Let’s go for pizza at JJ’s and you can tell me then!
[Baylee] I don’t know.
[Rianne] Come on. Let’s just go! Plus we can talk about how to fix your birthday party. I might just call in sick for you so we can celebrate it on March 13.
[Baylee] You’d do that?
[Rianne] Totally. Now let’s go to JJ’s!
[Baylee] OK fine. I’ll meet you there in an hour?
[Rianne] Yes! Did you text Lara? Is she coming?
[Baylee] DO NOT TEXT LARA.
[Rianne] 😱 Wait wait wait! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!? 😱
[Baylee] I’ll see you at JJ’s in an hour.
[Rianne] 😭 OK fine. Hurry.
In my closet, I mentally try on several outfit combinations until I narrow it down to three that I will actually try on once I’ve showered and washed the film of anger off my body.
Mom’s knock disturbs my quiet. She opens the door before I acknowledge her but doesn’t come farther than just inside the doorframe. The staticky sounds of my sister’s babbles can be heard through the baby monitor clipped to the waistband of my mother’s pants.
“Boss,” she says. “Can I come in?”
I poke my head out of my closet, hoping the expression on my face will convey how much I do not want to mention my chaotically leaving the house last night and returning fifteen minutes later with my makeup all smudged.
“What happened last night?” she asks.
I shrug. “Nothing important. Anyway—I’m going to meet Rianne at JJ’s, okay?”
“Baylee,” Mom says. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Mom, it looks like Lara and Freddie were going to start dating behind my back.” I drop the chosen shirts and pants on the end of my bed.
“Oh.” She nods. “That’s a little awkward, isn’t it?”
“It’s awkward and also many other things.”
Mom takes a seat on my bed, letting the silence hang. I head over to the jewelry tote that sits in my bookshelf, nestled between my shellac nail supplies and a stack of books, and I rummage for earrings and my silver bracelet. Rebecca launches into loud, repetitive moaning sounds, a signal that her falling asleep is a definite possibility. Mom lowers the monitor volume.
“Having your two friends suddenly spend all this private time together would make anyone feel left out, maybe even a little jealous, huh?” Mom says.
How wrong she is just triggers me. “It actually makes me super mad, Mom. Mad enough that I’m not talking to either of them, ever again.”
“Okay, Boss. You’re allowed to be mad,” she says. “Take some time to process.”
“I’m going to be processing at JJ’s with Rianne, okay?”
“Sure.”
Mom gets up and heads for the door, grabbing a couple of dirty socks off the ground and dropping them in my hamper.
I wait for Rianne between Zippy Mart and JJ’s, staring at the overpass that hangs over the creek beyond the parking lot, in the field that runs next to this mini strip mall.
[Alex] Hey, u. 😎
[Baylee] Hi. 😁
[Alex] Full disclosure: I wanted to text u right after u left last night.
[Baylee] 😁😁😁
Rianne steps onto the curb at the other end of the strip mall, waving when she sees me. She’s still rocking the raccoon look, and her purple hair peeks out from under the hood of her black winter cape, which makes her look like some kind of goth winter pixie. Her boots even have chunky heels and big silver buckles.
“It took everything I had not to text Lara,” she says. “Tell me now!”
“Okay, but can we at least get some food first?”
We head inside and grab one of the last two free tables by the window. Rianne goes up to order for both of us, and she comes back with two slices of gooey cheese pizza. Yellowish grease circles are already forming on the white paper plates.
“I have like, three hours before I have to go to work.” She groans.
“I’m going to try not to eat three slices of this pizza, but it’s going to be hard,” I say, sinking my teeth into the hot cheese layer.
“I know! So good,” Rianne says. “But get to it! You two got into a fight?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are you mad that she ignored your texts last night but responded to me?”
“Not quite.”
Rianne frowns. “Oh no—are she and Trey back together?”
“She and Freddie are together, actually.”
Rianne’s jaw hangs. “Whoa.”
“Yes.”
“How did you find out?”
“I saw her at his place.”
Rianne starts on her slice, shaking her head. “We really need to start making new friends. Everyone’s dated everyone else in this group. That’s kind of messed up.”
“Not me,” I say. “I haven’t dated anyone.”
She shrugs. “You’re still pure. While I literally went out with Freddie in Grade Seven, Trey in Grade Eight, and Matt last year—ew. Lara’s dated Trey and now Freddie. I guess there’s always Rav, Baylee, if you’re desperate.” She laughs, expecting me to join in. “What? What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you think Trey knows?”
“No—no one knows except me. And now you.”
“Really?”
I nod. “They’re saying they just started ‘talking,’ and they’re not officially dating yet.”
“They’ll never be official—unless Freddie is trying to start a huge thing with Trey. Our group is literally about to implode,” she says. “I’m done trying to figure out this stupid end-of-year trip. There’s no point.”
“We could do our own thing,” I say.
“Yeah, okay.” She folds the rest of her slice in half, picking at the cheese that sticks out the sides. “Just the girls, then.”
“Maybe you and me could tag along with Candace and Steph’s group. They’re renting a cottage by the lake,” I say. “Plus, it’s a guarantee that Taylor won’t be anywhere near.”
“Okay, but you mean Lara, too, right?”
Disgust twists my features before I have a chance to reel in my reaction.
“Spill it. Tell me why you’re so mad at Lara.”
I take a breath, unsure how I’m going to flip my thoughts and the truth around to minimize what’s really going on.
“I might’ve had a tiny crush on . . .”
Rianne’s eyes widen. “On Lara?!”
“No!”
“I’m just kidding. On Freddie,” she says. “Obviously.”
“You knew?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure, but you and he have your own thing, and it kind of makes sense that maybe there was something more there, right?”
There’s nothing actually there. That’s the problem.
“Anyway,” Rianne continues, “this whole Lara and Freddie thing definitely sucks, but we can’t just cut her out. It’s not her fault.”
All I want is to cut Lara out forever. Right now, this is the only thing I want.
I search for a way to reply to Rianne, but then a shadow falls over us as a body comes to the window from outside.
“Look who it is,” Rianne says. “Awkward!”
Freddie’s hands cup the sides of his face against the glass as he cuts the glare to be able to see inside JJ’s, and his eyes lock with mine.
“How did he know I was here?” I say, breaking eye contact. “If my mom told him, I’m going to—”
“I posted about it on Instagram,” Rianne says, showing me a photo of her reflection in her bedroom floor-length mirror, with a caption that reads: Check out the fit—headed to JJ’s for pizza with @BayleeKokBYEeee!!!
He cocks his head to the side, asking me to come out.
“Nice one, Rianne.”
She makes a face. “Did I know all this drama happened? No. How was I supposed to know tagging our location would be a problem?”
“Okay, fine. You’re right.”
Freddie taps on the window. I stare at the crust that remains on my paper plate, and Rianne’s shoulders rise in a shrug as she looks over at Freddie. He keeps tapping, and now other people are looking over at our table.
I sigh. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I head for the door, tying my red peacoat and sweeping my hair to the side. Freddie meets me outside the door.
“Are you calm today?” He holds two fingers in the shape of a cross aimed at me, like I’m some vampire he’s trying to keep away. I don’t laugh, so he sighs. “I just wanted to talk to you quickly.”
“And I said I need a breather from you and Lara.”
“You make it sound like we personally attacked you or something,” he says.
I don’t respond, because a personal attack is exactly what this feels like. It feels very intentional.
“I’m sorry, Bay. I don’t really know how to fix things.”
Freddie has no idea what his body being so close does to mine. Sometimes inside my head it’s me screaming at him to just kiss me, to just come closer and touch me.
I walk along to the right, past the convenience store, the last store in the strip mall, and pick a spot of icy grass to stand on. Freddie follows.
I watch him kick a piece of ice around.
“This silence is awkward,” he says.
“You’re the one who said you wanted to talk. I said I didn’t.”
“What a mess. This is so not what I was looking for,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of frustration.
“It’s really irritating the way you act like you’re the one getting pulled into drama, like you’re not the one who created it in the first place,” I say. “You get that you’re the one who started dating your best friend’s ex a couple days after they broke up, right? You made that decision.”
“We’re not dating!”
“What are you doing, then?”
“We’re just talking. I just wanted to get to know her differently and see.”
“See what? See if this girl you can’t stand—who you say is annoying and ‘completely in love with herself’—is hot enough for you to consider blowing everything up around you?”
“No!” He shakes his head. “I feel like you’re someone else right now, Baylee. You’re not usually this . . . I don’t know.”
“Maybe that’s because when we’re together, I become this pathetic version of myself who tries to be supercool, who tries to make herself small just so she can make you feel important,” I say. “Maybe it’s because everything’s been about you. Until now.”
“Why—why would you have to do that? Why would you make everything about me?”
“I have to be better than all the rest, so you’ll want to hang out with me as much as you do. If not, then how else would I get to be around you? How else would I get to sit there, smelling your cologne, drooling over your perfect fucking face and body?”
There. I said it.
He palms his chin while he stares at me, eyes narrowed, face unreadable.
“Stop acting like you don’t already know!” I snap. There’s no one around, but even if there was, the words are already there, ready to escape my mouth. “I wasted too many years obsessed with the idea of being around you. You smell good, and you make me feel things, and I just wish you— Ugh. I don’t know. Forget it.”
What I want to scream at him is that it’s still not fucking fair that yet again, I get overlooked in favor of my excellent-looking, thin friend. I’ve known Freddie for years—he should’ve been able to overlook my size and see the stupid fucking beauty within, right? That’s my first thought, but then I change my mind, because I am angry and sick of these stupid self-loathing thoughts I’m always having. Why can’t Freddie think I’m just as hot as my thin friends? Why couldn’t that have been a possibility?
