Nothing Like You (14 page)

Sweet relief
. She’d spoken actual words to me. They were nice words, full of caring and friendship. They sounded nothing like
you lying, boyfriend-stealing bitch!
—which were the words I’d prepped myself to hear that morning
when I’d gotten dressed and ready for slaughter. I mean, school.

By lunchtime I’d calmed down slightly. Nils and I ate alone. Same old routine. Avocado and soy cheese sandwiches.

“Feeling better?” he asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“I wouldn’t say better. I’d say
different
.” My eyes darted over to Saskia and Paul’s table. Everything seemed the same. Salad, french fries, excessive PDA.

“Have you done the deed yet?” I asked Nils, nibbling at a piece of crust that had fallen from my sandwich.

“I couldn’t. Saturday she was way too hung over and Sunday I was helping my dad with the car.” He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed at a hangnail. “We have an open period together next block. I was thinking I’d talk to her then.”

“At school?”

“Why, you think that’s bad?”

“Maybe wait till
after
school?”

Nils nodded. “Right, after school … you’re probably right.”

I met with Ballanoff before Drama. We sat side by side on the edge of the stage. I kicked my legs back and forth.

“You ready for your scene?”

“I guess.”

“Did you finish the reading?”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“Holly, come
on
—”

“I’m sorry,
god
, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

I watched the auditorium doors. “Oh, you know.”

He cocked his head. “I should flunk you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re probably right.”

I gripped the edge of the stage with both hands. “Have you ever done something really bad?”

He gave me a small shrug. “Sure, I have.”

“No, like,
really
bad. Have you ever, like, betrayed a friend?” I looked at him.

“I have, yeah.”

“And you survived it?”

“I guess. I’m here, right?”

I considered him. “Do you ever get over the guilt?”

“Well, I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“Lots of things. To start … I mean, I suppose it depends on the deed done. “

I tried to picture Ballanoff doing something really bad. I pictured him in a black beret stealing jewels. And then again in a black beret stealing art. I laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just can’t imagine you doing anything bad.” I paused. “Come on, tell me. What’d you do?”

He leaned forward. He whispered, “None of your business.”

I nodded, looked down, and laughed. A few kids started trickling into the auditorium for class. “I’ll finish the reading this week,” I said, sliding off the edge of the stage and onto the carpeted floor.

Blame it all
on Paul’s threats and my growing guilty conscience, but the week following Nora’s party was record breaking for me in terms of alcohol consumption. Beer, whiskey, Kahlúa, more beer.
Puke
, Kahlúa. But you know the saying:
Desperate times
…

I was home Wednesday night, cleaning up dishes after dinner with Jeff, when Nils came by.

“Hi, hi.” Jeff and I both got separate hellos. Nils bounced across the room and hopped up onto the countertop right next to kitchen sink. I passed him a wet dish and a towel. “Dry, please.”

He winked and leaned toward me. “Can he hear us over here?”

“I can hear you over there,” Jeff said, not moving from his station at the computer.

I snickered.

“I’m heartbroken,” Nils announced loudly. “I broke up with Nora just now.”

“Oh please,” I passed him another dish. “You’re the heart-
breaker
. You don’t get to be broken.”

Nils went on. “I wanna camp out tonight in The Shack. With Holly. Jeff, please?”

“It’s a school night.” He was still facing the computer.

I poked Nils in the shoulder and called back to Jeff, “I have an open period first thing tomorrow. I don’t have to be at school until nine!”

Jeff swung around in his chair. “Holly, don’t make me be the bad guy. Nine a.m. isn’t exactly noon.”

“Seriously, though, we’ll be fifty feet away from you,” Nils continued. “We’ll eat a bag of cookies and be asleep by eleven. I just don’t want to be alone in my house tonight. So depressing.”

“Alone? You don’t have parents?”

Nils twisted his body into a pitiable pose—head down, shoulders slumped.

Jeff relented. “Fine, what do I care? You’re the ones who’re going to pay tomorrow.” He walked toward us. “Such a pushover.” He kissed my head, then moved past me, walking back down the hall to his bedroom. “I’m taking a shower. If I don’t see you guys, have fun. Holly, check in with me in the morning before you leave.”

I nodded, did a little jig, then soaped up another greasy dish.

So Nils was the one who supplied the Kahlúa—the only thing he didn’t think his parents would notice missing from their liquor cabinet. I scammed two beers out of the fridge in our garage, which we drank while singing along to Billy Joel’s “Vienna.”

An hour or so later we were drunk. Most of the Kahlúa was gone, both beers were empty, and a large pile of silver Hershey’s Kiss wrappers was mounting on the futon between us.

“Okay, so wait, so you go, ‘I’m just not ready to be in a committed relationship,’ and then she was, like,
what
? She said
what
, exactly??” I was cracking up. Hysterical. Not that Nils and Nora’s breakup was even remotely funny.

“And then she was, like,
sad
, Holly. She was sad! Stop laughing! It sucked. I don’t like hurting people. Especially not her, she’s sweet.” He stuffed a handful of chocolate into his mouth.

I swallowed and continued. “No, but seriously, you’re right. It
is
sad. It’s really sad.” I tried twisting my lips into a frown.

“What’re you doing to your face right now?”

“I’m frowning.”

Nils reached out and touched my mouth. “You’re not frowning, Hols, you’re, like, smiling but the sides of your lips are turned down.”

I tried sitting up but then Nils pulled me back down.

“What time is it?” I asked.

Nils checked his watch. “One.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck, huh?”

Nils reached over and grabbed me by my T-shirt.

“What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” He pulled his hand back.

Neither one of us said anything for a second or two. I rolled onto my back, simultaneously sliding a hand down the side of my breast. No lumps. “Hey, Nils?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think cancer is contagious?”

He gave me a quick shove. “You’re on drugs.”

I looked up. “No, not drugs.
Kahlúa
.”

We both broke into hysterics. He reached over and tugged on my T-shirt.

“What’re you doing?” I asked again.

“I’m pulling you closer.” He yanked hard on the thin cotton. I just lay there, not moving. Laughing.

“Holly, come on. Come closer.”

I scooched closer, knocking into the pile of silver wrappers. “Okay,” I said. “Here I am.”

“Okay, good.” Nils repositioned himself so that his body mirrored my body. We both lay on our sides, our knees touching. I was giggling still, saying, “Okay, good,” over and over—mimicking his voice, which is deeper than mine. Not
deep
deep. But deeper.

Nils had stopped laughing now and was rubbing the edge of my T-shirt sleeve between two fingers.

“You wanna play Scrabble?” I asked, propping myself up on one elbow.

He shrugged. And then he kissed me. It was a real kiss. With open mouths and tongues and he tasted like cheap chocolate and I liked it. I liked it better than kissing Paul.

I pulled back and he looked at me. I tried picturing Nils and me at the beach, in the backseat of Paul’s car. Then I tried picturing us together in my bed. I wanted to laugh. But then he kissed me again. He put his hands on my face and I tugged gently at the belt loop on his jeans before sliding a hand around his waist and pulling him into me. It didn’t feel anything like being with Paul. “Nils?”

“Yeah?”

I wasn’t sure what I meant to say, so I didn’t say anything at all.

And then we kissed again. We kissed for a while and didn’t do anything else and then sometime around two thirty, we fell asleep.

Nils had set the alarm on his cell phone to go off at eight a.m. So at eight, a blaring ring sounded. I bolted upright. I was still wearing my clothes from the night before. I picked sleep from my eyes. My head felt like it was about to explode.

“Hey,” said Nils, stretching his arms overhead. Then,
“Christ.”

“I can’t go to school,” I cried, gripping my pulsating head. “I can’t do it.”

Nils slowly got up on his knees. “You have to, Holly. Jeff’ll never let us sleep out here again.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on. Get up. Go back to the house. Go take a shower. And drink water. You’ll feel better.”

I stood up. We both did. Nils grabbed the beer bottles and the empty bottle of Kahlúa and stuffed them into a paper shopping bag we had stashed away in the corner. “I’ll dispose of these,” he said, lifting the bag.

I walked toward the door and then turned back around. “Last night?”

Nils nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah.”

“Did you …” I took a breath. “… did you mean to do what you did?”

He scratched his chin, grinning.

I shuffled backward, knocking into the wall on my way to the door. “Ow!” I grabbed my head.

“Watch it, twinkle toes.”

“Har, har.” I stepped outside, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. “See you when I see you,” I said, blowing a kiss. Walking back across the lawn toward my house, still drunk.

English Lit
. Kiminski was ranting about
Beowulf. Grendel, pagan themes
,
blah blah
. I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I raised my hand. “Can I go to the bathroom, please?”

“I don’t know.
Can
you?” Such an asshole. This was his favorite game.
Grammar time
.

I took a breath, then rephrased the question. “
May
I go to the bathroom?”

“You
may
.” And then, under his breath, “For the second time in the last hour …”

“Thanks much,” I sneered, standing up and walking toward the exit.

I’d kissed Nils.
Kissed NILS.
And the day after tomorrow, Friday, was D-day. When I’d either convince Paul to keep
his mouth shut, or he’d blow my life to smithereens. Saskia would hate me. I’d hate me. The
world
would hate me.

Hovering over the toilet bowl, I thought maybe I could make myself puke. My stomach had been somersaulting since second period. I stuck a finger down my throat and gagged. My eyes went watery. No luck. Then I heard some rustling around in the stall next door. The rolling of toilet paper, some sniffling. I looked down and recognized those shoes. Pink leather mules. Ugly. Cheap looking. Probably cost four hundred bucks. “Nora,” I said cautiously, “is that you?”

“Who is it?” Her voice cracked. She’d been crying.

“It’s Holly.”

I heard her undo the latch on her stall, so I did the same. We met by the sinks.

“Hi,” she said. She looked horrible. She was wearing a tight pink dress to match her ugly pink shoes, as if she’d really tried to pull it together that morning. Splotches of mascara marked her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” I asked. She was clutching a balled-up wad of toilet paper to her nose.

“You’ve probably heard. He told you, right?”

I nodded.

“Such an idiot. I didn’t even see it coming. How is that possible?”

I didn’t know how to comfort her. Under normal circumstances this would have been uncomfortable, but after the night I’d had with Nils … ? My stomach rolled over.

Nora let out a sob. “I really liked him, you know? I don’t know where to stick all my feelings now. They’re still there, just,
torturing
me.” Tears shot down her cheeks.