"Untitled"
The summer between my senior year in high school and freshman year in college was what my sister calls “gold and win;” it was perfect. Liquor laced and riddled with gross negligence on the part of anyone over the age of twelve, I, Elissa, Julia Stein, and Isaac Curtis managed to ruin not only our lives but the lives of everyone that came in contact with us.
Like I said; perfect.
We were all pretty good kids in high school. We weren’t prudish by any means, but none of us ever showed up tanked at home or got a girl pregnant, though Julia did like to joke that that was her goal in life. We went to church, did our homework, graduated in the top of our class; we were set in life and well on our way to becoming the people we wanted to become and taking the world we lived in with us for the journey.
Isaac used to joke that Elissa was the most likely to succeed, in anything she did, because she was bullish enough to turn anyone to her way of thinking.
“The downside of course,” he would then laugh, “is that no one likes you.” He usually got hit after this.
It was true though, to a point, to say that no one liked her; in fact, I’d venture to say that everyone not only didn’t like her, they hated her. She was “that” girl, with the good looks, the money, the grades, and the guy. Years later, I would say that she was the Aspeth Montgomery of our graduating class, a title she didn’t take lightly to; Aspeth was the archetypical snoot from a book we’d read recently. I, on the other hand, was reluctantly popular. I wasn’t particularly fond of being a clique leader, but it made Elissa furious, so I secretly reveled in it.
That summer didn’t change our lives or alter the paths of our destinies. It did, however, introduce us to each other for the first time in eighteen years of friendship.
I’ve known Elissa since the day we were born, not that incredible when you consider that we’re twins. Isaac Curtis and Julia Stein lived down the street from us when we moved to Boston at six weeks old. Mom says that we played with Isaac before we were old enough to remember, and she’s probably telling the truth of some sort, but my mom likes to fudge on the nostalgia. I do know that we were all in the same kindergarten class, because there’s photographic evidence; me and Elissa in matching jumpers and floppy hair bows, Isaac in a Christ Academy uniform, and Julia hamming it up in the back row, where her ungainly limbs and freakish stature were proportionate to Miss Campbell’s, the twenty something college intern we’d been assigned.
“I was really unfortunate,” Julia would moan when we drug the ripped picture out; she’d become a model, in huge campaigns for the likes of Burberry and Lacoste.
As for the rest of us, we turned out just like Julia; successful, but not special, different, but cookie cutter. Isaac is a lawyer, with a wife, Brianna, and three children, Porter, Marilyn, and Elisabeth. Elissa runs an accounting firm, with a Hollister model boyfriend, introduced to her by Julia. I’m a pediatric oncologist, with a husband named Andrew and a daughter named Grace. Julia never got married and doesn’t really date, but she has more friends than the rest of us combined; years ago, when Paris Hilton’s Sidekick got hacked, Julia’s name was one of the ones in the phonebook.
In high school, we were elite. In college, we were still pretty important. Grad school brought the first inklings of unimportance. Now, were just the four friends we were when we mashed cake in each other’s faces at our birthday parties. The evolution of our lives is pretty unremarkable, but that’s not what’s important about this story. What’s incredible is the journey of those people that we met the summer between our senior and freshman year; we’re still friends with all of them.
Ryan Curtis, Isaac’s brother, is in a band.
Hannah Roberts, a youth that we practically kidnapped, is a youth pastor.
Megan Lamina, Julia’s cousin, is a plastic surgeon.
Pat Cambridge, our getaway driver, is in prison.
It’s been twenty years since that summer and it’s still important, because it was the defining moment of our lives.
Elliott Duffy
May 2027
December, 2005
Boston, Massachusetts
“Elliott, wake up,” Elissa whispered, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me roughly. “Mom says to hurry up; we’re going to be late.” I rolled over and grabbed her wrist.
“I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you don’t stop.” Elissa rolled her eyes, before wrenching her arm out of my grasp. She leaned over me and switched the overhead light on.
“Get up,” she said again, smacking my hip. She walked out of the room, singing softly.
“I hate you!” I called after her as I rolled out of bed, shoving my feet into the pink cloud slippers next to my bed and tugging a Christ Academy sweater on over my pajamas. Running my fingers through my hair, I twisted it up into a bun and shuffled out into the hallway where Elissa was wrestling with our nine year old sister Addison, trying to get her downstairs before Mom declared war on the household.
“Addie, stop it, just go eat!” Elissa grumbled. “Ouch!” she gasped as Addison punched her chest and stomped off. “Mom!”
“Don’t start!” Mom called from downstairs, her voice already irritated. I smirked and stepped out of the way of Elissa’s fist before padding down two flights of stairs to the kitchen. My dad and brothers, Mark and Tanner, sixteen and seventeen, were already eating. Addison was washing her hands at the sink and Mom was turning pancakes with one hand and bouncing our baby sister Larissa on her hip.
“Elliott, why aren’t you dressed yet?” Dad asked, looking over the rim of his coffee cup. My eyes grew wide; Mom wouldn’t have said anything unless Dad did and he knew that. As suspected, she spun immediately and narrowed her eyebrows.
“Young lady...”
“Mom, I just woke up like, thirty seconds ago. I’ll get dressed after I eat.” I sat down next to Tanner, snatched a strawberry off his plate, and popped it in my mouth.
“Bitch!” he said, incredulous. “Get your own!”
“Tanner, don’t call your sister a bitch. Elliott, don’t be a bitch,” Mom said, setting a plate down in front of me and kissing my head. I curled my lip and rolled my eyes before attacking my pancakes. Mom put Larissa in her high chair and sat down to feed her. “Girls, do you have anything after school?”
“Rehearsal,” we said together.
“Science club,” Addison added, not realizing, or not caring, that Mom was talking to us.
“What time is rehearsal over?” Mark asked.
“Seven thirty,” Elissa said, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Oh good, you can pick me up at Mike’s.”
“Um, no,” Elissa said, after pretending to think for a second.
“Um, yes,” Mom mimicked, wiping apple sauce off Larissa’s chin. “I can’t get him and he cannot stay the night,” she said, more to Mark than anyone else.
“Not fair,” Mark mumbled, crossing his arms.
“Don’t care,” Mom retorted. Mark stuck his tongue out.
“Tongue in,” Dad said, smacking the back of his head.
“So, you two have rehearsal. Tanner?”
“Claire’s party is tonight. Can I go?” he asked, like Mom would have any choice but to say yes. Claire was Tanner’s best friend and today was her fifteenth birthday.
“Yes. What time will you be home?”
“I’ll just stay at Brad’s.”
“Okay, that’s fine, just don’t miss church tomorrow.”
“What the hell, how is that fair?” Mark cried. “I’m older!”
“Yeah, but you act like you’re Addie’s age, so just... you know what, I don’t need a reason. Eat your pancakes,” Dad said, taking an apple from the bowl at the middle of the table. “Can we eat this fruit?” Addison wrinkled her nose.
“It’s been there for like, a month.” Dad shrugged and bit into the apple.
“Ew!” we all groaned, covering our eyes as Dad chewed. He shrugged again.
“Dad, you’re going to get sick, that fruit is disgusting!” Elissa squealed.
“I’ll concede to your sister’s point if I die from some unnamed old fruit bacteria or start suddenly spouting fruit flies in the middle of a consultation.” Addison’s face blanched.
“Is that possible? Oh no...”
“Cal, stop it,” Mom said warningly, rolling her eyes.
“Tanner, pass me the butter,” I said, holding my hand out. Tanner handed me the butter dish, practically dropping it in my hand. “Stupid!”
“Take the dish!”
“Stop it!” Mom snipped. “Finish eating and go get ready. Elissa, aren’t you supposed to pick Isaac up at eight?”
“Shit,” Elissa gasped, shoving out of her chair and bolting upstairs.
“Watch your mouth!” Mom and Dad screamed after her. I chugged the last inch of my orange juice and took my plate to the sink, before pouring my and Elissa’s coffee into two tumblers and setting them on the foyer table. I climbed the steps two at a time, pressing against the wall as Elissa sprinted past, keys in hand.
“Elli, grab my bag. I’m going to get Isaac.” She said something else after that, but the front door slammed behind her and her words were lost.
I walked into my room and shut the door. I turned my stereo on and made my bed quickly, tossing my ninety five million pillows in no specific fashion against the headboard. I tugged my sweater and pajamas off, throwing the latter into the clothes hamper. Standing naked in my closet, I wondered for a long moment about what I wanted to wear, before deciding on dark jeans, a green argyle turtleneck and dark brown Uggs. I dressed quickly, grabbing a brown scarf and mittens, along with my Burberry parka and tossing them on my bed; it was about ten below outside and I hated being cold. I tugged my hair out of its bun and pulled a brush through it, before French braiding it messily. I put on a pair of diamond studs and applied little makeup; Elissa spent hours in front of a mirror. I dusted my face with powder and lined my eyes in kohl black.
I took my purse and backpack and donned my scarf and gloves before turning my lights and stereo off and crossing the hallway to Elissa’s room. Maneuvering her minefield of clothing and random junk, I located her pink Jansport and picked it up, slinging it over my shoulder and leaving as quickly as I’d come. Elissa’s room was terrifying to me, a compulsive neat freak.
As I descended the stairs, Mark and Tanner fought their way up them, alternating between headlocks and laughing as they pushed past me.
I had just gotten to the living room when I heard a car door slam outside. I called out goodbyes before pulling the front door open and shutting it quickly, a biting wind whipping around me, snow drenched and slicing.
“Morning, Whore Face!” Isaac called from the passenger seat of Elissa’s black Jeep. I laughed and rolled my eyes, handing Elissa her bag before walking around the back of her car to my blue Scion tC and throwing my bag and purse in the backseat. Shoving my keys into my pocket, I walked over to the Jeep where Isaac was leaning out the window, making kissy faces.
“Morning, Slutty Poo,” I said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll see you two in Chem, alright?” Elissa and Isaac nodded as I stepped back, allowing her to peel out. She’d be three miles ahead of me before I even got on the road; to call Elissa a speed demon was an understatement.
I climbed into the car and turned the heat and music up before rolling out myself.
At school, I struggled for a parking spot in the Senior parking lot. I didn’t have a first period class so I spent the hour that everyone else was in homeroom in the band room with my boyfriend Andrew, reading, studying, or talking to our directors.
I crossed the campus at a quick clip, pushing through the crowds surging towards their classes. I was freezing, despite all my layers, and was thinking about how cold I was when I saw Julia up ahead.
“Jules!” I called, hurrying up to catch her. She stopped and turned around, smiling.
“Hey chica,” she said, hugging me tightly. We linked arms and continued to the 600 building. “I saw Lisi and Isaac already.”
“Yeah,” I said, holding the door for her, Joel Cohen, and Madras Lopez, “They left before I did. Hey Joel.”
“Hey Elli,” he said, smiling, before following Madras into the band room. Julia went in first, kicking the door out enough that I could slip in.
“Good morning girls,” Mr. Simmons said from his office.
“Hey Sims,” we responded together, waving at he and Mr. Robison.
“Is Mark going to Claire’s party tonight?” Julia asked as we walked into the locker room. I nodded, spinning my combination lock and tugging my locker open. “I’m thinking about going. Michele asked me to come.” Michele was Claire’s older sister. “She thinks it’s going to be huge. She said Claire invited like, two hundred people even though their mom only approved fifty at best.”
“Yeah, that’s what my mom was saying last night when Tanner was talking to Dad about going. He didn’t think he was going to get to go because of Mark.”
“What does Mark have to do with Tanner going to Claire’s party?”
“Well, Mark has that thing with John Seagram tonight, at Mike’s house, and he didn’t think that Dad would let them both be out at the same time.”
“And?”
“He was right. He had to work over Mom to get to go. Dad’s pissed at him, but that’s nothing new.”
“Did Addie get her shirt from Renee? She told me on Monday that she was going to give it to her at school, but I don’t know if she remembered.” I shrugged and followed Julia out into the band room, where we plopped down on the floor Indian style, spreading our Calculus homework out.
“I think so. I think I saw it on the floor in Elissa’s room, which is exactly where Addie would leave something she was looking for.” Julia laughed knowingly.
“Renee too. Did you do 5.7 yet?” I shook my head.
“No. I couldn’t find my calculator last night and I’m not a human computer, so I just left it.”
“You have Andrew, why do you need a calculator?”
“He was with Bennett last night at Laurel’s house, working on their Physics project. I didn’t want to bother him.” Julia scoffed.
“No, you just didn’t want him to know that you still can’t do quadratics without a calculator.”
“Shut it,” I said, scribbling on the corner of my page, trying to get my pen to work. “It’s confusing, okay?”
“Sing the song,” a voice said behind me. I closed my eyes and shook my head before leaning back and looking up at Andrew, his feet square on either side of my shoulders. “Negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four a c divided by two a,” he sing songed, leaning down and kissing me. “It’s not hard, baby.”
“I hate both of you,” I mumbled as he sat down next to, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“Good morning Mr. Duffy,” Mr. Simmons called from the office. Andrew waved over his head.
“What’s up Sims?” he shouted back, twisting around.
“Same old,” Mr. Simmons responded.
“Cool. Did either one of you do 5.7?”
“That’s what I was just asking,” Julia said. “I didn’t and I’ll bet anything that Michele and Jessie didn’t either.”
“Nathan might have done it,” I said, pulling my phone out to text Nathan. “He always does his homework.”
“Yeah, and he never shares. You’d have better luck with Kurt,” Andrew said, tugging a binder and his Calculus textbook out. “Did we have to do 4.3 too?”
“I think so, but it’s not due until the day before break,” I responded, snapping my phone shut after my text sent.
“That would be today,” Andrew said. “Are you guys going to church tomorrow for Kellie’s Confirmation?”
“Yeah, I think so. Mom made Tanner promise he’d be there if he stayed at Brad’s tonight.
“Why would he not be there? It’s at like, six in the evening,” Andrew said, writing a formula out. I cocked an eyebrow.
“Have you ever met my brother? He could out drink Jack Daniels himself.”
“Who drinks on a Tuesday night?”
“Brad and Tanner,” Julia and I said together. Andrew thought for a moment, before nodding. My cell phone began to vibrate against my leg. I grabbed it and flipped it open.
“Nate said to ask Kurt.”
“Kurt says Hansen won’t take 5.7 without 4.3,” Andrew said, staring at his own phone. “Well... that sucks, since I didn’t do either of them.”
“We have one pass for homework, right?” Julia said, erasing something. “So if we pass on 4.3, then he’ll have to let us pass on 5.7, right?” Andrew laughed.
“You can’t ‘if, then’ with Hansen, you know it won’t work. Just don’t do it, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Says the boy who hasn’t missed a homework assignment since third grade,” Elissa said as she walked over to us. “I just saw Marina and she says Hansen isn’t even here today, so I wouldn’t worry about it.” She sat on the floor next to Julia.
“Where’s Isaac?” Andrew asked, looking behind him to see if Isaac was in the office.
“He’s in the cafeteria with Hodge,” Elissa answered, pulling her sweater off over her head. “He was apparently starving, because he ate two doughnuts in the car, a granola bar on the way to our lockers, and was working on a banana when we split outside of McKinley’s class.”
“He’s a tank,” Julia laughed. Isaac, at 5’11”, was anything but a tank. “Hey, can I borrow your cosin chart?” she asked Elissa, digging through her bag. Elissa nodded without looking up from her English text.
“God, Shakespeare is such a downer,” she mumbled. “Poor Ophelia.”
“You’d be messed up too if your lover killed your father,” Andrew said.
“Pseudo lover. It was all in her head; Hamlet just took advantage of her obsession.”
“To kill Polonius?”
“No, to take advantage of her. He killed Polonius on accident.”
“No, he didn’t! He knew he was behind the tapestry!”
“Whatever! There’s nothing to suggest that Hamlet knowingly murdered Polonius, you’re just basing that off of the Mel Gibson movie.” Andrew opened his mouth to argue, before shutting it.
“You’re right.” Andrew leaned back until he was lying down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. “You’re always right. It’s really fucking obnoxious.”
“My God, will both of you shut up?” Julia groaned, looking up from her homework. “Duffy, sleep at home. I need your help on nineteen.”
“What’s the problem?” Andrew asked as Julia shoved the paper over to him. Written in her loopy hand was this:
For what values is the above equation continuous?
Andrew stared at the paper for a long minute before snatching Julia’s pencil and writing quickly.
“Here,” he said about five minutes later, handing the paper back. “Use assumed variables.”
“Thanks,” Julia mumbled, chewing on the eraser of her pencil, before crumpling the paper up and throwing it over her shoulder.
“Hey, that was hard!” Andrew cried, reaching for the paper.
“Be quiet,” Mr. Robison called from the office.
“I’m not turning it in, what does it matter?” Julia said, shrugging.
“You’re going to regret this when you fail Calc and can’t graduate,” Elissa said, handing the wadded paper to her.
“I’m not going to fail Calc because I don’t turn one assignment in,” Julia said, chucking the ball into the garbage can over Andrew’s head. It missed by two feet.
“No, but you will fail at life because you suck at basketball,” Elissa said.
“And you wonder why no one likes you.”
“No,” Elissa said, crossing her legs, “I’m acutely aware of why people don’t like me. You wonder if I care.”
“Do you?”
“Not really,” she said, standing as the bell to signal the end of first period sounded. “See you guys in Calc.”
We all stood and gathered our belongings before shuffling towards our respective classes. Outside of the 300 building, I kissed Andrew and headed to English, drenched in sunlight and flushed with cold.
Like I said; perfect.
We were all pretty good kids in high school. We weren’t prudish by any means, but none of us ever showed up tanked at home or got a girl pregnant, though Julia did like to joke that that was her goal in life. We went to church, did our homework, graduated in the top of our class; we were set in life and well on our way to becoming the people we wanted to become and taking the world we lived in with us for the journey.
Isaac used to joke that Elissa was the most likely to succeed, in anything she did, because she was bullish enough to turn anyone to her way of thinking.
“The downside of course,” he would then laugh, “is that no one likes you.” He usually got hit after this.
It was true though, to a point, to say that no one liked her; in fact, I’d venture to say that everyone not only didn’t like her, they hated her. She was “that” girl, with the good looks, the money, the grades, and the guy. Years later, I would say that she was the Aspeth Montgomery of our graduating class, a title she didn’t take lightly to; Aspeth was the archetypical snoot from a book we’d read recently. I, on the other hand, was reluctantly popular. I wasn’t particularly fond of being a clique leader, but it made Elissa furious, so I secretly reveled in it.
That summer didn’t change our lives or alter the paths of our destinies. It did, however, introduce us to each other for the first time in eighteen years of friendship.
I’ve known Elissa since the day we were born, not that incredible when you consider that we’re twins. Isaac Curtis and Julia Stein lived down the street from us when we moved to Boston at six weeks old. Mom says that we played with Isaac before we were old enough to remember, and she’s probably telling the truth of some sort, but my mom likes to fudge on the nostalgia. I do know that we were all in the same kindergarten class, because there’s photographic evidence; me and Elissa in matching jumpers and floppy hair bows, Isaac in a Christ Academy uniform, and Julia hamming it up in the back row, where her ungainly limbs and freakish stature were proportionate to Miss Campbell’s, the twenty something college intern we’d been assigned.
“I was really unfortunate,” Julia would moan when we drug the ripped picture out; she’d become a model, in huge campaigns for the likes of Burberry and Lacoste.
As for the rest of us, we turned out just like Julia; successful, but not special, different, but cookie cutter. Isaac is a lawyer, with a wife, Brianna, and three children, Porter, Marilyn, and Elisabeth. Elissa runs an accounting firm, with a Hollister model boyfriend, introduced to her by Julia. I’m a pediatric oncologist, with a husband named Andrew and a daughter named Grace. Julia never got married and doesn’t really date, but she has more friends than the rest of us combined; years ago, when Paris Hilton’s Sidekick got hacked, Julia’s name was one of the ones in the phonebook.
In high school, we were elite. In college, we were still pretty important. Grad school brought the first inklings of unimportance. Now, were just the four friends we were when we mashed cake in each other’s faces at our birthday parties. The evolution of our lives is pretty unremarkable, but that’s not what’s important about this story. What’s incredible is the journey of those people that we met the summer between our senior and freshman year; we’re still friends with all of them.
Ryan Curtis, Isaac’s brother, is in a band.
Hannah Roberts, a youth that we practically kidnapped, is a youth pastor.
Megan Lamina, Julia’s cousin, is a plastic surgeon.
Pat Cambridge, our getaway driver, is in prison.
It’s been twenty years since that summer and it’s still important, because it was the defining moment of our lives.
Elliott Duffy
May 2027
December, 2005
Boston, Massachusetts
“Elliott, wake up,” Elissa whispered, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me roughly. “Mom says to hurry up; we’re going to be late.” I rolled over and grabbed her wrist.
“I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you don’t stop.” Elissa rolled her eyes, before wrenching her arm out of my grasp. She leaned over me and switched the overhead light on.
“Get up,” she said again, smacking my hip. She walked out of the room, singing softly.
“I hate you!” I called after her as I rolled out of bed, shoving my feet into the pink cloud slippers next to my bed and tugging a Christ Academy sweater on over my pajamas. Running my fingers through my hair, I twisted it up into a bun and shuffled out into the hallway where Elissa was wrestling with our nine year old sister Addison, trying to get her downstairs before Mom declared war on the household.
“Addie, stop it, just go eat!” Elissa grumbled. “Ouch!” she gasped as Addison punched her chest and stomped off. “Mom!”
“Don’t start!” Mom called from downstairs, her voice already irritated. I smirked and stepped out of the way of Elissa’s fist before padding down two flights of stairs to the kitchen. My dad and brothers, Mark and Tanner, sixteen and seventeen, were already eating. Addison was washing her hands at the sink and Mom was turning pancakes with one hand and bouncing our baby sister Larissa on her hip.
“Elliott, why aren’t you dressed yet?” Dad asked, looking over the rim of his coffee cup. My eyes grew wide; Mom wouldn’t have said anything unless Dad did and he knew that. As suspected, she spun immediately and narrowed her eyebrows.
“Young lady...”
“Mom, I just woke up like, thirty seconds ago. I’ll get dressed after I eat.” I sat down next to Tanner, snatched a strawberry off his plate, and popped it in my mouth.
“Bitch!” he said, incredulous. “Get your own!”
“Tanner, don’t call your sister a bitch. Elliott, don’t be a bitch,” Mom said, setting a plate down in front of me and kissing my head. I curled my lip and rolled my eyes before attacking my pancakes. Mom put Larissa in her high chair and sat down to feed her. “Girls, do you have anything after school?”
“Rehearsal,” we said together.
“Science club,” Addison added, not realizing, or not caring, that Mom was talking to us.
“What time is rehearsal over?” Mark asked.
“Seven thirty,” Elissa said, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Oh good, you can pick me up at Mike’s.”
“Um, no,” Elissa said, after pretending to think for a second.
“Um, yes,” Mom mimicked, wiping apple sauce off Larissa’s chin. “I can’t get him and he cannot stay the night,” she said, more to Mark than anyone else.
“Not fair,” Mark mumbled, crossing his arms.
“Don’t care,” Mom retorted. Mark stuck his tongue out.
“Tongue in,” Dad said, smacking the back of his head.
“So, you two have rehearsal. Tanner?”
“Claire’s party is tonight. Can I go?” he asked, like Mom would have any choice but to say yes. Claire was Tanner’s best friend and today was her fifteenth birthday.
“Yes. What time will you be home?”
“I’ll just stay at Brad’s.”
“Okay, that’s fine, just don’t miss church tomorrow.”
“What the hell, how is that fair?” Mark cried. “I’m older!”
“Yeah, but you act like you’re Addie’s age, so just... you know what, I don’t need a reason. Eat your pancakes,” Dad said, taking an apple from the bowl at the middle of the table. “Can we eat this fruit?” Addison wrinkled her nose.
“It’s been there for like, a month.” Dad shrugged and bit into the apple.
“Ew!” we all groaned, covering our eyes as Dad chewed. He shrugged again.
“Dad, you’re going to get sick, that fruit is disgusting!” Elissa squealed.
“I’ll concede to your sister’s point if I die from some unnamed old fruit bacteria or start suddenly spouting fruit flies in the middle of a consultation.” Addison’s face blanched.
“Is that possible? Oh no...”
“Cal, stop it,” Mom said warningly, rolling her eyes.
“Tanner, pass me the butter,” I said, holding my hand out. Tanner handed me the butter dish, practically dropping it in my hand. “Stupid!”
“Take the dish!”
“Stop it!” Mom snipped. “Finish eating and go get ready. Elissa, aren’t you supposed to pick Isaac up at eight?”
“Shit,” Elissa gasped, shoving out of her chair and bolting upstairs.
“Watch your mouth!” Mom and Dad screamed after her. I chugged the last inch of my orange juice and took my plate to the sink, before pouring my and Elissa’s coffee into two tumblers and setting them on the foyer table. I climbed the steps two at a time, pressing against the wall as Elissa sprinted past, keys in hand.
“Elli, grab my bag. I’m going to get Isaac.” She said something else after that, but the front door slammed behind her and her words were lost.
I walked into my room and shut the door. I turned my stereo on and made my bed quickly, tossing my ninety five million pillows in no specific fashion against the headboard. I tugged my sweater and pajamas off, throwing the latter into the clothes hamper. Standing naked in my closet, I wondered for a long moment about what I wanted to wear, before deciding on dark jeans, a green argyle turtleneck and dark brown Uggs. I dressed quickly, grabbing a brown scarf and mittens, along with my Burberry parka and tossing them on my bed; it was about ten below outside and I hated being cold. I tugged my hair out of its bun and pulled a brush through it, before French braiding it messily. I put on a pair of diamond studs and applied little makeup; Elissa spent hours in front of a mirror. I dusted my face with powder and lined my eyes in kohl black.
I took my purse and backpack and donned my scarf and gloves before turning my lights and stereo off and crossing the hallway to Elissa’s room. Maneuvering her minefield of clothing and random junk, I located her pink Jansport and picked it up, slinging it over my shoulder and leaving as quickly as I’d come. Elissa’s room was terrifying to me, a compulsive neat freak.
As I descended the stairs, Mark and Tanner fought their way up them, alternating between headlocks and laughing as they pushed past me.
I had just gotten to the living room when I heard a car door slam outside. I called out goodbyes before pulling the front door open and shutting it quickly, a biting wind whipping around me, snow drenched and slicing.
“Morning, Whore Face!” Isaac called from the passenger seat of Elissa’s black Jeep. I laughed and rolled my eyes, handing Elissa her bag before walking around the back of her car to my blue Scion tC and throwing my bag and purse in the backseat. Shoving my keys into my pocket, I walked over to the Jeep where Isaac was leaning out the window, making kissy faces.
“Morning, Slutty Poo,” I said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll see you two in Chem, alright?” Elissa and Isaac nodded as I stepped back, allowing her to peel out. She’d be three miles ahead of me before I even got on the road; to call Elissa a speed demon was an understatement.
I climbed into the car and turned the heat and music up before rolling out myself.
At school, I struggled for a parking spot in the Senior parking lot. I didn’t have a first period class so I spent the hour that everyone else was in homeroom in the band room with my boyfriend Andrew, reading, studying, or talking to our directors.
I crossed the campus at a quick clip, pushing through the crowds surging towards their classes. I was freezing, despite all my layers, and was thinking about how cold I was when I saw Julia up ahead.
“Jules!” I called, hurrying up to catch her. She stopped and turned around, smiling.
“Hey chica,” she said, hugging me tightly. We linked arms and continued to the 600 building. “I saw Lisi and Isaac already.”
“Yeah,” I said, holding the door for her, Joel Cohen, and Madras Lopez, “They left before I did. Hey Joel.”
“Hey Elli,” he said, smiling, before following Madras into the band room. Julia went in first, kicking the door out enough that I could slip in.
“Good morning girls,” Mr. Simmons said from his office.
“Hey Sims,” we responded together, waving at he and Mr. Robison.
“Is Mark going to Claire’s party tonight?” Julia asked as we walked into the locker room. I nodded, spinning my combination lock and tugging my locker open. “I’m thinking about going. Michele asked me to come.” Michele was Claire’s older sister. “She thinks it’s going to be huge. She said Claire invited like, two hundred people even though their mom only approved fifty at best.”
“Yeah, that’s what my mom was saying last night when Tanner was talking to Dad about going. He didn’t think he was going to get to go because of Mark.”
“What does Mark have to do with Tanner going to Claire’s party?”
“Well, Mark has that thing with John Seagram tonight, at Mike’s house, and he didn’t think that Dad would let them both be out at the same time.”
“And?”
“He was right. He had to work over Mom to get to go. Dad’s pissed at him, but that’s nothing new.”
“Did Addie get her shirt from Renee? She told me on Monday that she was going to give it to her at school, but I don’t know if she remembered.” I shrugged and followed Julia out into the band room, where we plopped down on the floor Indian style, spreading our Calculus homework out.
“I think so. I think I saw it on the floor in Elissa’s room, which is exactly where Addie would leave something she was looking for.” Julia laughed knowingly.
“Renee too. Did you do 5.7 yet?” I shook my head.
“No. I couldn’t find my calculator last night and I’m not a human computer, so I just left it.”
“You have Andrew, why do you need a calculator?”
“He was with Bennett last night at Laurel’s house, working on their Physics project. I didn’t want to bother him.” Julia scoffed.
“No, you just didn’t want him to know that you still can’t do quadratics without a calculator.”
“Shut it,” I said, scribbling on the corner of my page, trying to get my pen to work. “It’s confusing, okay?”
“Sing the song,” a voice said behind me. I closed my eyes and shook my head before leaning back and looking up at Andrew, his feet square on either side of my shoulders. “Negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four a c divided by two a,” he sing songed, leaning down and kissing me. “It’s not hard, baby.”
“I hate both of you,” I mumbled as he sat down next to, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“Good morning Mr. Duffy,” Mr. Simmons called from the office. Andrew waved over his head.
“What’s up Sims?” he shouted back, twisting around.
“Same old,” Mr. Simmons responded.
“Cool. Did either one of you do 5.7?”
“That’s what I was just asking,” Julia said. “I didn’t and I’ll bet anything that Michele and Jessie didn’t either.”
“Nathan might have done it,” I said, pulling my phone out to text Nathan. “He always does his homework.”
“Yeah, and he never shares. You’d have better luck with Kurt,” Andrew said, tugging a binder and his Calculus textbook out. “Did we have to do 4.3 too?”
“I think so, but it’s not due until the day before break,” I responded, snapping my phone shut after my text sent.
“That would be today,” Andrew said. “Are you guys going to church tomorrow for Kellie’s Confirmation?”
“Yeah, I think so. Mom made Tanner promise he’d be there if he stayed at Brad’s tonight.
“Why would he not be there? It’s at like, six in the evening,” Andrew said, writing a formula out. I cocked an eyebrow.
“Have you ever met my brother? He could out drink Jack Daniels himself.”
“Who drinks on a Tuesday night?”
“Brad and Tanner,” Julia and I said together. Andrew thought for a moment, before nodding. My cell phone began to vibrate against my leg. I grabbed it and flipped it open.
“Nate said to ask Kurt.”
“Kurt says Hansen won’t take 5.7 without 4.3,” Andrew said, staring at his own phone. “Well... that sucks, since I didn’t do either of them.”
“We have one pass for homework, right?” Julia said, erasing something. “So if we pass on 4.3, then he’ll have to let us pass on 5.7, right?” Andrew laughed.
“You can’t ‘if, then’ with Hansen, you know it won’t work. Just don’t do it, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Says the boy who hasn’t missed a homework assignment since third grade,” Elissa said as she walked over to us. “I just saw Marina and she says Hansen isn’t even here today, so I wouldn’t worry about it.” She sat on the floor next to Julia.
“Where’s Isaac?” Andrew asked, looking behind him to see if Isaac was in the office.
“He’s in the cafeteria with Hodge,” Elissa answered, pulling her sweater off over her head. “He was apparently starving, because he ate two doughnuts in the car, a granola bar on the way to our lockers, and was working on a banana when we split outside of McKinley’s class.”
“He’s a tank,” Julia laughed. Isaac, at 5’11”, was anything but a tank. “Hey, can I borrow your cosin chart?” she asked Elissa, digging through her bag. Elissa nodded without looking up from her English text.
“God, Shakespeare is such a downer,” she mumbled. “Poor Ophelia.”
“You’d be messed up too if your lover killed your father,” Andrew said.
“Pseudo lover. It was all in her head; Hamlet just took advantage of her obsession.”
“To kill Polonius?”
“No, to take advantage of her. He killed Polonius on accident.”
“No, he didn’t! He knew he was behind the tapestry!”
“Whatever! There’s nothing to suggest that Hamlet knowingly murdered Polonius, you’re just basing that off of the Mel Gibson movie.” Andrew opened his mouth to argue, before shutting it.
“You’re right.” Andrew leaned back until he was lying down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. “You’re always right. It’s really fucking obnoxious.”
“My God, will both of you shut up?” Julia groaned, looking up from her homework. “Duffy, sleep at home. I need your help on nineteen.”
“What’s the problem?” Andrew asked as Julia shoved the paper over to him. Written in her loopy hand was this:
For what values is the above equation continuous?
Andrew stared at the paper for a long minute before snatching Julia’s pencil and writing quickly.
“Here,” he said about five minutes later, handing the paper back. “Use assumed variables.”
“Thanks,” Julia mumbled, chewing on the eraser of her pencil, before crumpling the paper up and throwing it over her shoulder.
“Hey, that was hard!” Andrew cried, reaching for the paper.
“Be quiet,” Mr. Robison called from the office.
“I’m not turning it in, what does it matter?” Julia said, shrugging.
“You’re going to regret this when you fail Calc and can’t graduate,” Elissa said, handing the wadded paper to her.
“I’m not going to fail Calc because I don’t turn one assignment in,” Julia said, chucking the ball into the garbage can over Andrew’s head. It missed by two feet.
“No, but you will fail at life because you suck at basketball,” Elissa said.
“And you wonder why no one likes you.”
“No,” Elissa said, crossing her legs, “I’m acutely aware of why people don’t like me. You wonder if I care.”
“Do you?”
“Not really,” she said, standing as the bell to signal the end of first period sounded. “See you guys in Calc.”
We all stood and gathered our belongings before shuffling towards our respective classes. Outside of the 300 building, I kissed Andrew and headed to English, drenched in sunlight and flushed with cold.