Saving Zoe Page 7

  really means is "juvenile."

  "My mom would never take the time to do that," she continues, popping a tiny powdered donut into her mouth

  before washing it down with a slug of Diet Coke.

  I chew my cookie, trying to think of a good response. I'm the baby so she likes to take care of me? No, too

  babyish. I'm all she has left? Jeez, way too morbid. So finally I just say, "Yeah, well, that's just her." But then I

  remember how that was never really her, at least not until the happy pills moved in.

  "Hey, what happened yesterday? Your cell was off, and your mom said you were out," Parker says, kissing the

  top of my head and squeezing in beside me.

  "Oh, yeah, I—" I start to give an excuse, but then Teresa butts in, deciding to provide one for me.

  "I needed a little help with my homework, and Echo totally saved my life. Did you know she's like a

  mathematical genius?" She gives me a quick warning glance, one that nobody notices but me, then she smiles and

  rubs her shoulder lightly against Sean's.

  "Wow, cute, nice, and good at math too?" Parker says, winking as he steals the rest of my cookie.

  I just gaze at Teresa and shrug. "So she says."

  After school I meet Abby at her locker. Only this time, Jenay's not there.

  "She had a pep club meeting," Abby says, slamming her locker a little harder than necessary and looking at

  me. "I mean, pep club Can you even believe it?"

  I shrug my shoulders and walk beside her as we make our way off campus. "So how was your weekend, you

  know, the whole family thing?" I ask, not wanting to talk about Jenay behind her back, yet feeling like I have to at least

  keep up the appearance of believing Abby's excuse for not going to the dance.

  But she just peers at me from the corner of her eye and sighs. "Okay, I think we both know there was no family

  thing," she says, shaking her head and looking away. "So go ahead, tell me everything. Was it awesome?"

  "It was okay," I say, nervously shifting my backpack, not wanting to make her feel any worse by yammering on

  and on about it.

  "Just okay?" She raises her eyebrows and waits.

  "Yeah, I mean, it was fun." I nod, wishing we could move away from this subject too.

  "Well, I gotta tell ya, Jenay makes it sound a lot more exciting than you. I mean, you did go to the same dance,

  right?" She laughs.

  "Even shared a limo." I shrug.

  "Well, you should hear her version. She dropped by yesterday, and went on and on and on. By the time she

  left, I felt like / was the one dating Chess. Seriously, I'm officially a Chess Williams expert now. I know everything

  about him, and I can even prove it. Like, did you know that his favorite sandwich is chicken salad? Fascinating, right?

  And how about this little known fact—he actually loves basketball more than baseball! Which is so highly unusual,

  wouldn't you agree?" She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry, I know I sound awful, but it's like, all she

  can talk about! Chess this, Chess that." She sighs. "Anyway, what's up with you and Teresa?" she asks, looking at

  me all sideways again. "You guys dating?"

  "What do you mean?" I gaze at the busy street, noticing how almost all of the cars are driven by Bella Vista

  seniors, taking the long way home.

  "Well, Jenay said you guys practically spent more time with each other than your dates. And then yesterday we

  tried to call you to ask you to come over, but your phone was off. I guess that's because you were helping her study.

  Or at least that's what I overheard you say at lunch. Are you guys like, good friends now?"

  She's staring straight ahead, acting like it's perfectly okay with her that Jenay's ditched us for pep club and

  Chess, and that I'm supposedly best friends with Teresa. But I can tell it's really bothering her. And part of me wants

  to tell her about yesterday so she'll know there's nothing to worry about, that she and Jenay are still my best friends,

  and they won't be replaced. But the other part just wants to forget it ever happened. And in the end, that's the part

  that wins. "She sucks at math, so I helped her." I shrug.

  "And Parker? Are you guys like, a couple now?" she asks, finally looking directly at me, her face a mix of worry

  and hope.

  "I guess," I say, shrugging and smiling weakly.

  "It's okay." She nods. "Really. I'm happy for you guys," she says, nodding again, this time more firmly.

  I walk alongside her, running my index finger over the top of a neighbor's white picket fence. Thinking back to a

  time when things were so simple and easy.

  "It'sjust...everything's changing," she says, staring faraway.

  "Tell me."

  My mom left a note on the fridge, telling me how she and my dad are going to some faculty dinner party, but to go

  ahead and warm up the leftover lasagna and make myself a salad in case I get hungry.

  I climb the stairs to my room, remove the jeans and sweater I wore to school, and replace them with my old,

  worn-out navy blue sweatpants, and my reading IS SEXY T-shirt that I ordered off the Internet mere seconds after

  seeing it on Rory Gilmore. Then I plop down on my bed and think about how I should probably be starting my

  homework even though I'd really rather not.

  It's not often I get the whole house to myself, so I like to make the most of it when I do. Which usually translates

  to me just loafing around, wasting time, and not doing much of anything, since that seems to make the time last even

  longer.

  It's weird how Jenay and Abby always get freaked out and scared when they're left home alone. Before their

  parents' car has even left the driveway, they're already on the phone, dialing everyone they know, trolling for

  company.

  But not me. I totally love it. And I can't ever remember getting the slightest bit anxious or scared. Usually it's

  more the exact opposite. It makes me feel happy, expansive, and free. But that's probably because all last year my

  parents were like the gestapo, never allowing me more than a half hour's peace. And it's only in the last few months

  that they've finally begun to retreat.

  I'm just about to turn on my iPod when my cell phone rings. And when I see that it's Parker my first instinct is to

  let it go straight into voice mail, even though I know that I shouldn't.

  "Hey," I say, wedging it between my shoulder and cheek, trying to sound all upbeat and happy, like a good

  girlfriend would.

  "What're you doing?" he asks.

  "Urn, nothing. Just lying here," I say, lifting my feet in the air, checking out my chipped-up pedicure, and thinking

  how I should probably cover it with some socks.

  "Really?" he asks, sounding surprised.

  "Yup, really," I tell him, adding no further comment.

  "Who's all there?"

  "Just me."

  "You want company?" He laughs, but I can tell that he means it.

  I roll over and gaze out the window. "You mean, now?" I ask, knowing he does, wishing he didn't.

  "Yeah, I need a little help with my math homework and I hear you're the go-to math wiz."

  "Oh really?" I say, laughing like I'm someone else, hoping I'll be mistaken for flirtatious.

  "No, I just want to come over and hang. Is that cool?"

  I stare at the oak tree, tall, dark, and barren. Then I roll back over and sigh. "Give me an hour," I tell him,

  closing the phone and reaching under the bed.

  Fifteen

  June 20

  Last night my parents sat me down for a game of ultimatum. Saying if I don't land a job
by next Monday, then I'll

  find myself gainfully employed at the one they found for me. Some psych doc who needs a little help with filing and

  appt scheduling for all the sick heads that visit his office.

  So of course I acted all offended, like it was way too beneath me to even consider. But the truth is, I'm thinking it

  could really work. Because, let's face it, making appointments for the mildly insane definitely beats wearing a

  polyester uniform and hanging over a deep fryer, encouraging a nasty case of adolescent acne, or standing on my

  feet all day building bunions at some stupid, small-town boutique.

  So now I can just screw around for the whole rest of the week, pretending I'm job hunting, and then Monday

  morning I'll show up fresh and eager and ready to report for duty at Dr. Freud's.

  O yeah, Carly called last night, wanted to talk about what happened. I told her there's nothing to talk about, and

  wished her well. Then right before we hung up I just might have mentioned something about Stephen's annoying

  bicep-gazing-during-sex habit, and how she might want to look away when he eats since it's truly disgusting. And then

  I think she may have hung up on me. But, whatever.

  Marc is as elusive and hard to reach as ever—which just makes me lust him even more! But I happen to know

  that he knows about Paula's party, so I'm wearing my cobalt blue halter top and white jeans in hopes that he shows.

  June 23

  Jeez—where to begin? Was it Lennon who said something about life being what happens when you're busy

  making other plans? Anyway, it's just so freaking true! I left the house around noon, dressed all conservative so

  everyone would think I was really going job hunting, when really I went straight to Paula's where I changed into my

  bikini and we spent all day reading magazines by the pool.

  Then Kevin and Kristin stopped by (always together, together forever!), and by the time they finally split, Paula

  and I were so stoned we could barely move. Maybe that's the secret to their long-term romance, they're just way too

  messed up and unmotivated to go looking for someone else???

  Anyway, before we even realized it, it was already getting dark, and all these people just started walking through

  the door, and we were still on our lounge chairs by the pool! And since it was Paula's party, and since she was all

  oiled up and still in her bikini, everyone just assumed it was supposed to be a moonlight pool party or something. So

  they just started stripping off their clothes and jumping in. Including Paula who technically didn't have to get naked

  since she was already in a bikini, though I'm not really sure she realized that at the time. Anyway, I just lay there,

  making my way through a bag of chips, while my eyes searched for Marc, trying not to be too bummed out by the fact

  that I didn't see him anywhere, and trying not to care that everyone around me was all happy and hooked up, well,

  everyone but me.

  So finally I decided to go into the house and look for something to change into, and I could not freaking believe

  it when I go past the den and see Marc sitting there, all alone, in front of the TV. Only the TV was off, and his eyes

  were closed. So I just assumed he was probably sleeping, stoned, or meditating or something. And I just stood there

  staring at him, thinking how peaceful and beautiful he looked being all still and mellow like that, but also wishing he'd

  open his eyes and see me.

  But when he finally did, it was like nothing registered. He just sat there all silent, and then after awhile (which felt

  like forever) he finally patted the cushion beside him and passed me his iPod. And we sat there for like the longest

  time, just listening to music, and passing the earpiece back and forth.

  And even though it was cool, and calm and really pretty nice, after awhile I started to get a little annoyed at how

  there I was, sitting right next to him, in my bikini, and all he wanted to do was listen to music by bands I've never even

  heard of! I mean, not to be stuck up or anything, but most guys are willing to drop way more than their iPods when I'm

  half naked and ready to go.

  So finally, I just got up and left, thinking for sure he'd follow. Only he didn't. And when I finally got over myself

  and went back in the den, he was gone. And after searching the entire house, I realized he really was gone. And I

  thought—screw him! But mostly I was feeling rejected. I mean, what's with this guy? What's with the whole mysterious

  Mr. Enigma act?

  Anyway, I got changed, got myself together, and got myself home. And then later, just as I'm falling asleep, I

  see this flash in my window. Kind of like an SOS or something, even though I'm not really sure how that SOS flash

  signal really goes. But it seemed like a flashlight being turned off and on, slowly, with short spaces of darkness in

  between.

  So, feeling kind of annoyed, and also kind of scared—/ mean, was it aliens? Some psycho mass murderer?

  Because who does that? I got out of bed and headed for the window, moving the curtains just a tiny bit. And when I

  peeked through the narrow opening, I immediately grabbed my cell phone and started dialing 911. But then I looked

  again and I just couldn't freaking believe what I saw. It's like I seriously had to blink my eyes a whole bunch of times. I

  even rubbed them like you see in cartoons. But still, every time I opened them again, I saw the exact same thing.

  So I creeped down the hall, and into Echo's room, being careful not to wake her. Then I went out to her balcony,

  and gestured in a what~the-hell-do-you~want kind of way. But he just stood there, motioning for me to come down.

  And I thought—No effin way! This guy is totally whacked and he's probably planning to knock me out with his

  iPod Nano and drag me away, or something.

  But then he kept waving, and then he smiled. So I grabbed hold of a branch, and made my way down the oak

  tree, just like I'd done a gazillion times before.

  And when he met me at the bottom I asked, "What're you, crazy?" And I tried to look mad and not scared like I

  really felt. I mean, it just then occurred to me how the front door was locked and how I'd never be able to get back up

  the tree in time, you know, in case I was in danger or something.

  But he just looked at me and goes, "I forgot to play you this one song."

  And I just stood there, looking at him like he was completely looped. / mean, what the hell? It was like two

  o'clock in the morning. But still, I just stood there, listening to the song. It was jazz, and it was beautiful, though I'd

  definitely never heard it before. Then I gave him back his earpiece, praying to every god from every religion, begging

  to please just let me get back to my room safely and away from this music-loving head case who I mistakenly thought

  I liked.

  And just as I started to climb back up the tree, he placed his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. Well,

  my first instinct was to scream, but I didn't want to wake everyone and risk facing a world of hurt and a severely

  stunted summer, so I just turned around calmly, hoping I could talk him out of whatever sick act he was planning to

  perform.

  And that's when he leaned in and kissed me!

  It was only once. And it was really brief. But still, it was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.

  And then he smiled.

  And then he left.

  And I just stood there on the lawn, shivering in my bare feet, cotton cami, and boxers. Watching as he sprinted

  across the wet
grass, leaving dark footprints in his wake, until I could no longer see him.

  June 24

  Today, when Echo walked in the door, holding the mail, she had the weirdest expression on her face.

  "So bizarre," she said.

  And I go, 'What's bizarre?" And then I barely even looked up because I was busy eating strawberry yogurt while

  pretending to search through the want ads.

  And she goes, "This. It was sitting in the mailbox."

  And she tosses this packet on the table in front of me and it makes this kind of rattling sound as it lands and

  skids.

  So I pick it up to see what the heck it is, and I go, "Huh, weird. It's some kind of seeds."

  And she goes, "What kind of seeds?"

  So I turn it over and see a picture of a tree on front.

  And it looks a lot like our oak tree does in the middle of spring, when its branches are all filled in with leaves.

  And then I see in the bottom of the left hand corner, in very small writing, the hand-scrawled words—Lush Life. And I

  remember the song from last night. The one Marc shared with me at two in the morning.

  And Echo goes, "Who would put seeds in the mailbox?"

  And I looked at her and smiled and said, "These are for me."

  I close the diary and close my eyes, my mind drifting back to the day I found the packet of seeds in the mailbox, and

  how strange it all seemed at the time. And how Zoë's reaction made it seem even stranger, the way she smiled so

  secretly, like it actually meant something to her. Something she intended to keep from me.

  I guess having been born just two years apart allowed me to take her for granted. Assuming she'd always be

  there, that nothing could take her away. I mean, right from the beginning she was always there to cheer me on and

  teach me everything she'd learned during her two-year head start.

  It was Zoë who taught me how to keep my balance on my bike the day they took away my training wheels. And

  it was she who showed me how to build the perfect Barbie biodome subdivision using some old cardboard

  shoeboxes and a striped flannel sheet.

  But now, thinking back on all that, I also remember how when she moved away from all of those childhood

  things, she also moved away from me.

  And it's weird how reading her diary is kind of like getting a second chance, like one last shot at knowing the