I return the smile. Everyone else is freaking out about Roxy, which is the last thing I need. What I need is normal. Lucky for me, Dad gets that.
I change the subject. “Any news on whether you won the bid to cater the pajama party?”
“Not yet,” Mom says.
The city of Franklin holds an event every year in April to celebrate industry in our town. The pajama factory used to be the biggest business around here, and a lot of people credit our economy to it. Therefore, we celebrate all the pajamas. Sometimes Mom and Dad win the contract to cater the party, and other times they don’t. We’re the best, but the town doesn’t want to be seen as playing favorites by only awarding it to one company over and over.
“If we lose to Musgrave again,” Dad says, “I am moving to Canada.”
Maybe having rivals runs in our family. I have Roxy. Dad has Diane Musgrave, who always tries to outdo his ideas. When he designed a vintage Barbie-themed party for a little girl’s fifth birthday, Diane Musgrave retaliated by turning a client’s home into Barbie Dreamhouse.
After dinner, I’m so exhausted I trudge home and barely have the strength to make it through my homework. Once I’m done, I check texts on my phone as I get ready for bed. No matter what, even if we’re pissed at each other, Levi and I always text good night before going to sleep.
I click on the message from him: Forgive me?
I write back: Yes, you big idiot. Good night.
Good night, M.
A Proposal
The Thursday morning after I saw Roxy at Cal, Jason carries his cell phone out onto the pool deck.
Coach Josh’s three rules are (1) shower before swimming, (2) don’t swim alone, and (3) try to improve each day, but I’m pretty sure “don’t bring your phone to the pool” will become his fourth rule. The second we’re out of the water, we rush for our phones like a zombie mob.
But it’s weird that Jason’s on his phone before practice. I mean, it’s five o’clock in the morning. Everyone who could possibly be texting him at this hour is here at the pool.
He comes over as Levi and I are stretching our arms before we get in the water. Jason stares down at his screen. “Uh, Maggie, there’s a picture of you going around.”
I peer over his arm at the photo. It’s an unattractive shot of me staring at the Cal pool with my hands on my hips and a confused look on my face. The caption reads: Need swimming lessons?
I groan.
Levi grabs the phone, looks at the screen, and shoves it back at Jason. “Don’t show Mags that shit.”
“Levi, I can handle it myself. Jason, don’t show me that shit.”
“Sorry,” Jason snaps. “I figured you’d want to know. I would.”
Jason tucks his phone under his towel on a bench, then does a running 360 spin jump into the pool. Susannah turns rap music on the sound system and dances her way over to splash into the water.
After seeing that picture, I sigh, not ready to dive yet.
“Can’t Roxy find anything better to do?” I say loudly over the beats coming from the speakers.
“We don’t know that it was her,” Levi replies.
I raise an eyebrow. “That picture was taken last week at the Cal pool, Leaves.”
“Okay, she probably did it.” He squeezes my shoulder. “But it makes her look bad, not you.”
“I know. But I still don’t feel good.”
“She’s trying to rile you up so she’ll have an advantage. Don’t let her win.”
Then Levi pushes me playfully into the pool and cannonballs in next to me. After splashing my best friend to get him back for pushing me, I channel my tension into owning this practice.
Out of the pool, however, the tension races back.
By Friday I can’t wait to meet my friends for dinner at Jiffy Burger. I need to relax.
Levi drives us to the diner, where Hunter and Georgia already have our usual booth staked out. They are carrying on as usual when we sit down. The waitress takes our order, and then we start talking about our lives.
“Mom found out that the Tennessee coach gave me a diet plan to follow,” Georgia says. “I couldn’t wait for college, to get away from my parents and do my own thing, but it looks like my coach is going to be just as controlling as Mom. Ugh.”
Unlike my parents, who support me no matter what, Mrs. Layne won’t let her daughter leave the house without makeup and thinks eating at Jiffy Burger is a bad idea because grease “ruins your complexion.” Georgia used to be an elite gymnast, but grew too tall and wasn’t good enough to stay competitive in the sport at the highest levels. That’s why she switched to cheerleading. Regardless of what Georgia’s gymnastics coach said—that she most likely wouldn’t ever make a national or Olympic team—Mrs. Layne thought Georgia should’ve stuck with it and tried harder.
Georgia’s mom married her high school boyfriend, was the star of the University of Alabama gymnastics team, and hasn’t aged a day in twenty years. She thinks Georgia needs to follow the same perfect life plan, and that requires sticking to a diet.
“How’d your mom find out?” I ask, hoping she didn’t hack her email. I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Layne.
“I hadn’t gotten around to answering the coach’s email,” Georgia says, “so she called our house and left a message on the answering machine. Then Mom got pissed because ‘a lady always responds to correspondence’ and said I need to follow the diet.”
Hunter puts a friendly arm around her shoulders. “You look great. Don’t listen to them.”
“It’s not about how I look.” Georgia crosses her arms. “Apparently it’s about starting healthy habits now so I don’t gain the freshman fifteen.”
Levi stares her straight in the eyes. “You work out all the time. You won’t gain weight. You need to eat to keep your strength up.”
“I know,” Georgia says in a tiny voice. “Why can’t people be happy with who I am? Why am I not good enough?”
It’s not only her mom that makes her question herself. Last year Georgia dated a guy who didn’t treat her very well. He cheated on her, and she hasn’t dated since. It rattled her self-confidence. He was the asshole, but it made her think she was lacking somehow, which is totally bullshit. She’s smart, loyal, and beautiful.
When our server drops off our food, nobody moves to dig in.
“We love you,” Hunter says, squeezing her shoulder. He’s such a great guy friend to her, like Levi is to me. “And we’re all that matter.”
“But you guys won’t always be there,” she says quietly. “It’s only six months until I start college, and you’ll all be so far away…but at least there I’ll be away from my mom.” Georgia takes a long sip of water, presumably to distract herself.
Music from the jukebox fills the silence that falls over our table.
I wish I had a way of helping Georgia feel better. That’s always been Hunter’s job. He gives Levi and me a knowing look.
“So I had another run-in with Shelby’s dad,” Hunter announces.
Georgia spits out her water. “Nooo.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone back to her house, but I needed to see her.”
“Did you go in through a secret passageway?” I ask.