Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

“What?” Mom nearly choked on her bite of veggie burger.

“Pellet eggs.” Grandma let the egg slice plop back onto the green leaves. “They’re like rubber. And this chicken is awful.”

Justin rose from the table, tossing a wad of cash over their check. Kari got up hesitantly, finding Grandma more interesting.

“See you later, Drea,” Justin said.

I sank lower in my chair, contemplating the many ways I could avoid going to school tomorrow.

AFTER A SERIES OF DREAMS revolving around being dressed as Barney in the boys’ locker room, I woke up in need of a plan. Or at least one less thing to be embarrassed about at school.

I tiptoed into Mom’s room after she went into the bathroom and opened the top drawer of her wooden dresser. Piles of underwear were tangled around silky bra straps. Organization wasn’t one of Mom’s strengths either. A black pair of underwear fell out, but I caught them before they hit the floor. They were thin and sheer with a black ribbon encircling the waist. Apparently, they would tie into little bows on the sides of my hips. Cute, I guessed. I couldn’t even consider the bras since they’d fall right off.

The bathroom door across the hallway creaked open, and I stuffed the underwear down my nightshirt. Mom walked in, pulling her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail and singing U2’s “Vertigo.”

“Hi, Mom,” I said, heading toward the door.

She glanced from me to the drawer I forgot to close. “What were you looking for, sweetie?”

“Nothing,” I said, eyeing the hardwood floor.

“ Drea —out with it.”

“I’m out of clean underwear.”

Mom shrugged. “Then we’ll have to do some laundry.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask you yesterday. Is it okay if Naomi and her friend Roger give me rides to school and back?”

She crinkled her brow. “Are they good drivers?”

I tensed. “I don’t know.”

Her lips stretched into a grin. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re making some friends.” She sat on the bed, crossing her legs. “I’ve got a job interview today.”

“For what?”

She wrinkled her tiny nose. “Just a receptionist gig at a law firm. But it’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah.” I studied her frown. “Maybe I should get a job too.”

Mom sighed. She had shadows under her eyes. I wondered if she’d slept at all last night. “No, honey. I want you to really focus on school—so you can get into that music college you’re always talking about.”

“But it’s in Boston, and it costs a lot of money.”

She held her arms out to me. “Come here, baby.”

I allowed her to pull me in and stroke my hair. There was something comforting about her touch—most people’s hands hurt my skin. But I felt safe in Mom’s embrace. It made me think of the hours we spent writing funny stories. The Noun and Verb Game, we called it—our own twisted version of Mad Libs.

“Who was that cute boy at the café?” Mom asked.

“A jerk. I have to work on a film project with him.”

“Grandma really embarrassed you yesterday, huh?”

“They kept laughing at us.”

Mom nodded. “She’s never been really aware of what’s going on around her. I think she’s kind of like you in that she only knows how to say what’s on her mind.”

“Quit saying I’m like her. We are nothing alike.”

A smile played at Mom’s glossy lips. “You know what I like about both of you?”

“What?”

“You’re strong—not afraid to be yourselves. There aren’t many people I can say that about.”

I looked away, not wanting to tell her how much I didn’t want to be myself. How much I wished I had all these exciting stories to tell about guys I kissed or traveled down the coast with. How I was tired of being someone to laugh at.

“So, why is that boy a jerk? He seemed sweet. Was that his girlfriend with him?”

I shrugged. “That’s Kari. She hates Naomi.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.” She let out a hearty laugh. “Naomi’s gorgeous—even with bright purple hair.”

“His name is Justin—the boy. He’s new too.” I told her about how he’d approached me in the administration office and the things he said, including calling me stereotypical. When I finished, Mom could barely contain the grin on her face. “Why’s this funny?”

She bit her lip. “It’s not. I know. But here’s the thing—you’re a very pretty girl. Sometimes boys will talk to you because they really are interested. They aren’t trying to be mean.”

“I guess Kari interested him more.”

“Maybe. Men are fickle creatures.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Or maybe he wanted to make you jealous. In his mind, you rejected him.”

“All I did was ask him why he wasn’t hanging out with Kari. She’s more like him.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like being compared to Grandma, right? Maybe he doesn’t feel he’s like Kari.”

“That makes sense, I guess. Doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

Mom chuckled again. “Okay, well how about this? Apologize for getting off on the wrong foot and leave it at that. Then it won’t be so awkward to work together.”

“I don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Be the bigger person. It’ll make him feel like an ass.” She winked.

“I’ll try,” I said, not entirely convinced I could even look at him, much less speak to him.

I didn’t bother meeting Naomi after first period. Getting to English before Justin was imperative. With my luck, I’d end up tripping in front of him and Kari on my way to the desk.

Mr. Duncan told us that we were stuck in the seats we’d picked yesterday. Meaning I’d have to look at the back of Justin’s head the entire semester.

I slid into my rock-hard seat by the window and waited. My stomach fluttered every time the door opened, but he still hadn’t arrived a minute before the bell rang.

Then Kari walked in, and my fingertips went numb. She glanced up at me and smirked before sitting down and tossing a wave of hair over one shoulder. My cheeks went hot at the thought of Grandma’s words in the restaurant. And Kari’s high-pitched laughter. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

The door swung open one more time, but I didn’t recognize the guy who strutted in. And I definitely would’ve noticed him yesterday. His dark hair was tasseled and spiked, and he wore a black thermal with Robert Smith’s face airbrushed on the front. My heart picked up as he headed for my row. Multiple zippers and rivets lined his black pants, and he carried a green lunch box with some cartoon character grinning on the front.

He met my gaze, his lips curving up in a smile. I’d recognize those gray eyes anywhere—even smudged with black eyeliner.

Justin lifted his arms and motioned to his clothes. “What do you think—too much?”

And here I’d been preparing myself to apologize. Forgive and forget, as Mom says. “Fuck you,” I said, with a familiar ache in my throat.

Kari turned around, her mouth hanging open. “Smooth move, Justin.”

He rolled his eyes at her and sat down, putting his hand on my arm. His fingers felt like an electrical current on my skin. Every nerve ached.

“Don’t touch me,” I said.

“Hey, I thought you’d laugh,” he said. “Come on—I even begged my niece to let me use her lunch box.”

“You’re making fun of me. I get it, okay?” Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mr. Duncan walk in, but I didn’t care. Part of me had hoped Justin was different—that he wouldn’t make me the butt of another joke. But nothing had changed. Different school, same jerks.