Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex
I wake up and immediately check my phone. Yesterday, even after she saw me with Devon in the caf, and after I saw her with Caleb in the library, she contacted me. Am I crazy to hold out some hope that this promposal won’t happen?
We even had an almost normal text conversation, or we started to anyway. She said she needed the props—told me I should bring them to her today.
It’s nuts how excited that one text made me. She wants me to come to Publix, and I can get in her line with my Sprite and Reese’s, and we’ll make eye contact, and we’ll both remember the kissing, and there’s no way she’ll be able to go through with it.
But then I responded by telling her that I’d been looking at the U of Tampa majors and was seriously considering pursuing kickboxing.
It was supposed to be a joke from a scene in Say Anything. That Lloyd guy tells Diane’s dad that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, but he knows what he doesn’t want to do. The only thing that he knows for sure is that he’s currently into kickboxing. Called it the “sport of the future.” The scene was hilarious. Bailey and I laughed our asses off. She kicked at me with her foot and said, “Alex, it’s you! You’re Lloyd Dobler!”
She didn’t answer that text.
I rub my temples and head for the shower. Standing under the stream of water, I think about laughing with her. We do it a lot. We did it a lot. Now, I’m supposed to be okay with losing that?
No. I can’t.
I get out, wrap a towel around my waist, and stare at myself in the mirror. I try to put my game face on, because damn, it’s game day.
I know she’s right. I’m lazy. I’m spoiled. I’m selfish. I’m stubborn, too, though, and after that weird moment of clarity on my back in the middle of the lacrosse field yesterday, I can’t get her out of my mind.
I don’t know if I ever will. It would require some kind of surgery that hasn’t been invented yet.
I know that I need to adjust my priorities. They’re way out of whack. The game tonight is important. If I can channel all my frustration and anger and grief and want into kicking Lakeland’s ass, it could be my best game of the season.
I slap one cheek then the other and scowl at my reflection. You’re a beast, Koviak. A fucking beast. You’re gonna tear up that field tonight.
Yeah, I’ll do that. I just gotta see her first, take her her props. I know that we’re not the same, but she said we’re still friends. I need to talk to her to make sure that’s true.
Shit. I sound like an addict. One more hit of Bailey, please. Then I’m done. It’s torture to think of bringing her all the things for her promposal, but it’s a good excuse to show myself. Plus, I need to get my post-game king-sized Reese’s and Sprite from her. It’s good luck, and who am I to spit in the face of luck?
I get dressed, run a comb through my hair, and go to school.
There’s no practice on game night, just a short team meeting. My plan is to head to Publix as soon as it’s over, but of course Coach talks longer than usual, and then afterwards some of the guys stop me, asking if there’s going to be a post-game party. I don’t care about any party; I need to talk to Bailey. I get in the Jeep, and it’s like this bass line is thrumming through my body, my own personal soundtrack, moving me forward.
When I get inside, I don’t see her anywhere, so I go to the customer service desk. There’s an old woman working. Her nametag says EDNA. It’s the woman that Bailey said she interviewed for the short film.
“Excuse me,” I say. She doesn’t seem to hear me, so I try again, louder. “Excuse me?!”
Her eyes snap to me. Damn, that’s a lot of wrinkles. “You don’t have to yell! I have ears.”
“Oh, sorry.” I try to imagine this old lady ever going to the prom. “Hi,” I say. Let’s try this again. “I’m looking for Bailey. Do you know where she is?”
She pushes her glasses down her nose and scowls. “Who are you?”
“A friend. She told me to come by.” I turn my head and check the row of registers again, hoping she’s back, hoping I can end this conversation with Edna. “She said she’d be here. I have something to give her.”
“Oh.” She wags a wrinkled finger at me. “Yes. She mentioned that someone might come by. What’s your name?”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “Alex. It’s Alex.” I hit her with the smile that most women find irresistible.
She grunts. “No, that wasn’t the name.”
I run a hand through my hair. Clearly Edna is not most women. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I’m sort of in a hurry. Is she on break or something?”
“Oh, beg your pardon.” She stares a hole in me. “He’s in a hurry. No. She is not on break.”
I swear to God, Edna. “Can you tell me where she is, please?”
This is useless. I take out my phone to send Bailey a text.
“Put your phone away,” she barks. “If you are who you say you are, she’s doing some training in the back and can’t be disturbed. She said to leave those things in her car.”
I break away from Edna’s glare. I feel weak, like I might need to sit down. Is this true, or is Bailey avoiding me? “Oh.” I’m disappointed, and I don’t hide it. I scan the registers one more time. “Okay. Cool,” I mumble.
Edna puts her hands on her hips and sneers. “Don’t sass me, kid.”
I lift my eyes. You’re straight up crazy, Edna.
“You kids with your weird promposals.” She shakes her head. “Just tell a girl how you feel. You ever thought of that?”
I level an annoyed gaze at sweet old Edna. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to prom.”
“Huh.” She watches as I stick my phone in my pocket.
“Thanks,” I mumble and turn away.
“Wait,” she calls to my back. “What’s your name again?”
Why, Edna, you gonna ride my ass some more? “Alex.”
She reaches under the counter and pulls out a plastic bag. There’s a yellow Post-it on it that says ALEX. “She said to give this to you if you come in.”
I reach out to take it, and she slaps a hand down on top of it.
“You treat her right, you hear? She’s one of the good ones.”
Edna moves her hand, and I take the bag. She shakes her head in disgust as I walk away. I can tell by the weight of it what’s in there.
A king-sized Reese’s and a Sprite.
There’s a note, too.
I open the back of the Jeep, see the props in the back, and consider torching them again. What would she do? I could tell her I put them in her car and that someone stole them.
No. She’d have time to make new posters. Plus, I know how much she thinks she needs this crazy promposal for her film. When she first brought it up to me, I thought it was mostly about that footage and less about Caleb. Or maybe that’s just what I was hoping for.
After the apples in school yesterday, though, I assume that’s no longer the case. Another growl is growing in the pit of my stomach. I want to let it out, but there are people in this parking lot.
The truth is I have to deal with the fact that she’s going to ask him to prom tonight. I have to face the inevitable, which is he’ll say yes. Even if she didn’t have the stupid props. Even without the cow, he’ll say yes. He’d be crazy not to.
I make the transfer to her car, get back in the Jeep, and toss the bag into the empty passenger seat. Not having her in my life is going to suck. I imagine a sail, on a boat, with a giant hole in it. That’s me without her.
Edna, you crazy old woman, you’re super weird, but you were right about one thing.
Bailey is one of the good ones.
Too good for me.