“Ladies?”
“Hi, Will,” I say, deflecting.
“Hey,” Rose chimes in too.
They nod at each other and smile.
“Yo, Gen, I’m so sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
He opens his mouth and searches for words, stealing a quick glance in Rose’s direction. “Well, I heard you and Peter broke up. I thought you two were going to get, like, married or some shit.”
“We didn’t break up.”
Denial. Denial. Denial.
“Oh.”
Someone from behind mutters to move up to the counter.
Will asks the lunch lady for three extra slices in addition to the allotted two per student. She gives him one, with a grunt.
“That’s because she wants to eat the extra,” he says, and Rose giggles. I look at her and then at the orange grease spotting up on our rectangular slices. Why is she being so friendly?
Will walks us to our usual table. To our collection of smart and rebelliously creative associates. The people who made Vanessa uncomfortable when Rose led me into this world. A world colored with blue hair dye and all-black attire. Preferring the Smiths to the pop stars. Will shoves the last of his slices into his mouth in one bite before bidding us adieu. He jumps on his skateboard for about three seconds before Mr. Padilla makes him get off.
“What was that?” I ask Rose.
“Oh, they’re always trying to take his board away from him.”
“No, not that.”
“What?” She slides into a bench.
“The breakup? Is that what people are saying?”
Rose shrugs. But she has to know. I examine the faces of our lunch table companions. What do they know? They talk and laugh about stuff and send me sympathetic glances from time to time. Only Anjali, who I was in a play with in ninth grade, asks if I’m doing okay. Rose takes over the job of spokesperson.
“We’re not talking about Peter or anything Peter-related today.”
I don’t know when we decided this, but I let it be for now.
They talk about the upcoming dance, and I know Peter is on the planning committee. We were supposed to go together. Everyone at the table agrees: dances are stupid.
Everyone except Stevie, who instead takes the stage for his courting-of-Rose routine we have to endure every single day.
“Rose, my sweet Rose, you want to go to the dance, don’t you?”
“I just said dances were stupid.”
The more she says stuff like this to Stevie, the more his uncontrollable passion for her grows. Or at least that’s what he’s said in past monologues.
“But, with the right fella, maybe you’d sing a different tune? Dance to a different beat?” He licks his fingers and slicks his eyebrows down before moving them up and down like a cartoon character. “Won’t you let me treat you like the belle of the ball?”
She rolls her eyes and pops a piece of crust into her mouth.
“Don’t deny it. It’ll be a gas.” Stevie makes farting noises with his armpit. Yes, people do this outside of eighties movies, I guess.
“Charming, Stevie,” Anjali says.
“Whenever you’re ready, my princess. Whenever you’re ready. So, Genesis! What’s up with Vanessa?” Stevie blurts out.
“What are you talking about?”
“Word on the street is she’s getting too close for comfort with your darling ex.”
There are many parts of this sentence that make me feel as if I’m made of porcelain, and someone, slowly and methodically, is banging a ball-peen hammer into my skin. Stevie, annoying armpit-fart-making Stevie, is already calling Peter my ex? And giving me information that is apparently common knowledge?
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing, Gen. You know how people like to start rumors.” That was Rose. That was my best friend who just said that part. My best friend who should probably be clueing me in if there is gossip that, oh, I don’t know, might confirm my deepest paranoia and also directly affect how I communicate with both Peter and Vanessa, considering my next class after lunch is with this pair of people getting too close for comfort.
If he’s even here today. If he’s not completely avoiding me. But, back to the slow and painful cracking of my armor.
“What the fuck, Rose? You’ve heard this too?”
Everyone at the table turns down like they’re all mentally digging tunnels to their next-period class.
“I don’t think it’s true. I wanted to confirm things before I passed on the information.”
“Rose? You don’t think I might have wanted to know about this? You don’t think it would make things slightly easier if I knew what people were whispering about?”
I feel some spotlights on me from other tables but I don’t care. Until this occurs to me: “Do they know anything else, Rose?”
I know my voice is air-venom. Rose knows exactly what this means. That old eight-letter word. Starts with an A.
“Absolutely not,” she whispers back.
I grab my book bag and bolt from the table.
Streaking through the hall, I hold the explosion inside with all my might. I’m not ready for this. How could I think I was ready to see anyone, much less walk into the potential disaster zone that is my next class? Advanced Writing with Ms. Jones, the secret romance writer, according to Wendy, who thinks we don’t write from our hearts. I can’t find my heart anywhere right now, so I think avoiding it altogether might be best.
I sidestep into the bathroom, and pray for solitude. A sick, twisted joke from the universe is what I get instead. It is empty, except for one head of bouncing curly hair, flossing her teeth in the mirror.
Vanessa.
She unwraps the ends of the floss from her fingers, and slides the string out from between her back molars. Then she spits into the sink and turns to me.
Here stands Vanessa, who used to be my best friend. Maybe one of convenience, but nonetheless a best friend. The one who let out the secret of my dad’s death. The one who thought everyone should know it wasn’t just any special heart attack, but a heroin overdose. Junkie’s daughter. The one who thought I needed that added to my social résumé.
Hi, I’m Genesis, and you heard me right, my dad overdosed from shooting up more heroin than his body could handle, so he died.
Vanessa made sure you all knew that.
And she’s used that to move in on my boyfriend.
We face off, gridlocked for a solid twenty seconds. I can’t read her expression, though. It’s not guilt. It’s not pity. Both of which I would sort of expect from her. It’s not smugness either. It’s sort of neutral, really. Why can’t she at least give me a real emotion to hold on to? What would she think about Peter’s exit from the clinic? Does she know? God, it’s worse if she does know. If she was in on it. If she encouraged it.
What if they’re together now? Before I’ve even talked to him. When the last I’ve seen of him at this point was in the waiting room.
Before he left me.
“Hey, Genesis,” she says finally.
I just stare. That tidal wave sensation from yesterday pools at my feet and rises through my body.
“You knew it was coming.”
“Excuse me?”
“You had to know I’m much more his type.”
So it is true.
The wave moves into my chest, and before I know it, I’ve crashed her onto the floor, and I’m tugging at her hair and scratching at her neck like a wild animal, and she’s fighting me off, but not hitting back. I stop for a second, and we both pant for air. She’s on her back, and I’m straddling her. My books are scattered around us.
“Get OFF me!” she shrieks.
I’m wet between my legs. Then there is a sharp stabbing in my stomach and I fold into myself and off of her.
“What the hell?” she asks. I see a shadow of worry on her face. “I didn’t even touch you.”
She’s off the floor now, and I pull myse
lf up too. I want to crawl to the toilet and puke my guts out, but I don’t want to give up just yet.
We look at each other, and she still has a slight air of concern, but then she moves toward the mirror to examine the scratch marks on her neck.
“I can’t believe you, Vanessa.”
“What?” she says, so innocently I have a moment of doubt.
“What are you trying to do?” I ask.
I let this trickle in through the cracks in my skin. And seal myself back together.
Vanessa continues. “You two are not meant to be, Genesis. Just face it.”
“Face it? Do you have any idea what that means? Does he? It doesn’t seem like he’s facing anything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, didn’t he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
I take a deep breath. If she doesn’t know about the abortion it would truly scandalize her to the point that maybe she would be disgusted by Peter. I can’t do that to Peter, though. Some loyalties die hard.
And telling Vanessa is like sending a mass e-mail to the whole school.
“Whatever, Genesis. You guys were never suited for each other. Everybody knew.”
I hate her face so much right now. I push her. Just a little shove, bumping her backward. Then I gather up my strength and slap her across her face.
I slap her hard and cold.
She stumbles back into the sink just as Ms. Karen pokes her head into the bathroom.
“Genesis! Vanessa! What on earth is going on in here?”
Great.
I gather my things and head toward the door while Ms. Karen analyzes the damage I’ve inflicted on Vanessa.
“Uh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, young lady. The three of us are going straight to Mr. Lombardy’s office. He will figure out what we should do with you. Fighting? Really?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Vanessa says.
“Oh, really?” I say, with all the controlled fury I can handle. “You didn’t do anything?”
“Nothing to get mauled, no!”
“Girls! Please! Save this for the office.”
I shake my head and continue walking toward the door. Ms. Karen starts to protest again and I interrupt her. “Relax, I know. I’m going to Mr. L’s office. I can’t stand it in here any longer.”
I can’t stand it anywhere much longer. This bathroom. This school.
My own freakin’ skin.
ACT I
SCENE 6
(This scene takes place in the library. Tables are set with students working individually on projects. GENESIS, ROSE, and VANESSA sit at one table together.)
ROSE
Spill it.
GENESIS
Spill what?
ROSE
Don’t play dumb with me. I saw with my own two eyes something between you and a certain someone you couldn’t stop talking about the other day.
TEACHER
Ladies, this is quiet time.
ROSE
Sorry, Ms. Hamm.
(The girls watch until TEACHER is preoccupied again.)
VANESSA
What are you guys talking about?
GENESIS
Nothing. We’re not talking about anything. We’re working quietly during independent study time.
ROSE
Uh, no, there are more important things to discuss than the Renaissance and Reformation.
GENESIS
Ms. Hamm thinks otherwise.
(Tries to signal to ROSE she doesn’t want to talk in front of VANESSA.)
ROSE
Was he trying to ask you out?
GENESIS
No.
ROSE
Professing his undying love and devotion?
GENESIS
No!
VANESSA
Who?
GENESIS
ROSE
No one.
Peter Sage.
VANESSA
What!?
GENESIS
It’s nothing.
VANESSA
You like Peter Sage?
GENESIS & TEACHER
Shhhhhhh!
(A beat)
(They feign working.)
ROSE
Not only does she like him, but he likes her too!
VANESSA
(Raising voice a little too high)
Is that true?
GENESIS
I don’t know.
TEACHER
Do I need to separate you three?
VANESSA
Ms. Hamm, can I go to the bathroom?
(She exits. Looking green.)
ROSE
What was all that about?
GENESIS
You’re so dense sometimes.
ROSE
Uhhhhh…?
GENESIS
She’s only had a crush on Peter Sage since kindergarten.
ROSE
Still? Dude, I thought she was over that after he rejected her for, like, three different middle school dances.
GENESIS
I don’t remember that.
ROSE
Oh yes. It was pathetic. And then she went out with Kyle Peacock.
GENESIS
For, like, a minute.
ROSE
I heard they went to third base.
GENESIS
Gross. Anyway, apparently she’s not over Peter. Should I go talk to her?
ROSE
You guys aren’t even really friends anymore. If it’s taken ten years and something hasn’t panned out, chances are it never will. Right?
GENESIS
Should I feel bad?
ROSE
Why? Is there something happening?
GENESIS
I guess we had our first date. Yesterday.
ROSE
What the holy hell? Why didn’t you tell me?
GENESIS
I’m telling you now!
ROSE
We’ve been through four periods AND lunch and you haven’t thought I might be interested in that little piece of information? This is huge. This is beyond huge.
GENESIS
Calm down, Rose.
TEACHER
I’m not going to ask you again, ladies.
ROSE
Wait a second. You told me you were going to see your mom yesterday.
GENESIS
We did.
ROSE
We did? We? You and Peter went to the hospital together?
(GENESIS smiles and nods.)
That was your first date?
GENESIS
Yeah. We ate in the cafeteria.
ROSE
You are a trip, Genesis Johnson. This is why I love you.
GENESIS
It got weird, though.
ROSE
Well, uh, yeah, your first date was in a hospital cafeteria. That’s weird.
GENESIS
That part was perfect. I think I was really weird today.
ROSE
Like what?
GENESIS
Like, I told him this is a bad time for me.
ROSE
Yeah, I guess it is. But so what? This could actually be the perfect time. Go make things un-weird! Go! Do it now!
Why are you so pro–Peter Sage all of a sudden?
ROSE
Since I just saw how upset it made Vanessa.
GENESIS
You’re such a bitch.
ROSE
No, not really. I just like seeing you smile. Don’t worry about Vanessa. She’ll get over it.
GENESIS
Who knows what will happen? He’s probably going to realize what a mess I am and jump ship anyway.
ROSE
You don’t have to know what will happen. And don’t say that about yourself.
GENESIS
I don’t really get why he likes me.
ROSE
Well, do you have butterflies or whatever other bullshit in your stomach?
GENESIS
I totally do.
ROSE
Then go make it un-weird.
GENESIS
Okay.
ROSE
Now! Go!
GENESIS
Now?
ROSE
Yeah, why not?
GENESIS
Because that sounds weird, not un-weird.
ROSE
He’s next door. Go tell the teacher Ms. Karen wants to speak to him.
GENESIS
She won’t buy that.
ROSE
Why not? No one will suspect anything between you and Peter Sage. Just try it. Get him out of class for a second and tell him you like him.
GENESIS
This is crazy.
(ROSE scrawls out a note.)
ROSE
Flash this. They won’t know the difference. Carmichael won’t even look at it.
GENESIS
I can’t believe you’re talking me into this.
ROSE
Am I?
GENESIS
Why? I shouldn’t do it?
ROSE
No, you absolutely should!
(GENESIS stands and makes her way to the exit.)
TEACHER
Where are you going, Genesis?
GENESIS
To the bathroom.
TEACHER
You have to wait until Vanessa is back.
(VANESSA enters on cue. GENESIS points.)
TEACHER
Fine. Be quick about it, please. The period is almost over.
(GENESIS exits.)
VANESSA
Where’s she going?
ROSE
To the bathroom. Takin’ care of business.
(She smiles as the lights fade.)
YOU MAY EXPERIENCE A WIDE RANGE OF EMOTIONS
Mr. Lombardy is bald except for a few strands of hair draped across the top of his head. Busted blood vessels dot the skin on his face, and a thick gray mustache hides his upper lip. He reminds me of a rhinoceros: thick, with wide-set, beady eyes.
“I have no choice but to suspend both of you from school,” he says without any trace of emotion. Again with the emotionless people. I wish I could channel some of that. I wish some of the emotions burning my guts like acid would just neutralize.
“But that’s not fair!” Vanessa spits. “I was attacked!”
“Is that true, Ms. Johnson? Are you entirely to blame?”