The Pursuit of Sarah Alice

Finally, finally I was starting to see a difference.

I flushed the bile (nowhere near digested, by the way) and washed my hands (thoroughly). Brushing my teeth (twice as thoroughly), I slowly examined myself in the mirror. My stomach didn’t leave as much of a shadow. My arms and fingers weren’t as beefed up as before. My legs weren’t as curved. (But my self-esteem was just as low.) I almost gagged as I turned my tooth brush over to brush my tongue.

Of course, this meant that I had to be more cautious. There was no way I could wear a bikini to the pool now at the pool now; it was too much of a difference because of how tall I was. I had to be more considerate of what I wore. Certain clothing that clung to me allowed my body to show through, and that was never, ever okay regardless of how unattractive I believed myself to be. My…my habit had to be better concealed, too. People were just as nosey as they were fucking stupid. No way in hell would I give myself up so easily.

This was all I wanted. I just wanted to be nice-looking, and I didn’t ever stop to think that maybe that was too much to ask. I didn’t stop to think that my measures might’ve been too drastic, and that was because I simply didn’t care.

(I really wished that I did.)



The end of June, and yet my purgatory was just beginning. I had to begin to remind myself that there was only a month and a half left of this, then fucking Jolie could shove it up her ass because she and her boyfriend and Link and everybody else would be attending their school and I’d be attending mine. Jolie could whine to someone else (I prayed that it would be Link) and I could float through school without having to worry about people noticing that there was something wrong with me. We’d be thirty minutes away from each other and a district apart, and nobody would have the time to think that they’re doing me a favor when they’re really just bothering the everloving fuck out of me.

“I swear—Lou’s ass is perfect, man,” Jolie sighed from beside me, sticking the Green Apple Blow Pop back in her mouth and rolling it around by the stick with her fingers. I wasn’t very sure what made her think I wanted to know about her beloved boyfriend’s ass, and I pondered this with my eyebrows furrowed as I sat beside her in folding camping chairs under the sun.

Currently we were at Link’s and Lucas’ baseball practice. I remembered feeling some surprise after Jolie told me they played sports, then apathy after that (there was nothing to be surprised about).We were facing the diamond and I looked as they practiced through drills and plays. Lucas was center field and Link was on second base. They’d changed positions several times before then.

The sun was being so Goddamn unforgiving today. Both Jolie and I had our hair in ponytails. She kept it light; a camisole and cutoffs. However, I had more to think about than the airhead beside me, and for the sake of being precautious, I chose a white V-neck and Capri’s. I regretted my choice in clothing because it was ninety-fucking-four degrees. (I also regretted my choice to tell her that yes, I would come with her to the ball field today.)

“I’m guessing you’ve had sex with him already then,” I responded without thinking, and I wanted to throttle myself in the throat right then and there. What I’d just said was nothing more than motivation for Jolie to delve deeper in a relationship that I didn’t even give half a shit about. I already knew.

Jolie grinned broadly and the spit on her teeth made them shine. I stared at her Fifty Cent gap. “Damn straight. Wanna know what else is perfect? His pen—”

I cut her off because I’d be damned if we were going to have a conversation about anyone’s genitals, especially her boyfriend’s. “—Jolie! Uh-uh—I—just—nngh-uh-a-ha—uh-uh! No!” I stuttered out in a panic, not able to really find the words to tell her to shut her mouth.

She snickered, not even worried about her Blow Pop breath being blown in my face. I turned away from her. A month and a half…only a month and a half. I turned back to the field; the pitcher was now turning back and throwing the ball at Link in an unplanned way, and the runner quickly jumped forward and landed on his stomach, his hand landing right between Link’s cleats on the base a second before Link ran his mitt over it. I thought I saw his mouth go, “Good job,” to the runner as he helped him up, and I was pretty sure the runner winked at him, too. Link shoved him away, and this time I was positive he said, “Fuck away from me.”

I took my packet of gum out of my pocket and popped a piece out of the foil, slipped it into my mouth quietly.

After about another five minutes of me trying not to look at Jolie’s face as she blabbered about something equally unimportant as her boyfriend, the coach blew his whistle and the boys turned to leave the field. I found Lucas and Link; they were looking for us, their eyes scanning as their mouths moved. I guessed they were talking to each other. Eventually they found us and began to walk across, very slowly towards us. Link looked at me, blinked, then waved at us.

I had to flick Jolie (twice) for her to shut up and understand that they were finished. It was pathetic that I had no idea what she even said. I chewed my gum quietly as we walked towards them; a fence separated the diamond from the rest of the field, and Link and Lucas leaned against it, both of them readjusting the cups in their pants. (Shitshitshit.)

“’Ey, big boy!” Jolie shouted as her boyfriend did this, grinning with her tongue in between her teeth. My gum was crushed between my own. They hugged each other over the fence, and she kissed his mouth loudly. He laughed into her mouth (because it really was so Goddamn funny). I glanced at Link and saw that he had an uncomfortable expression on his face, too, and it made me feel a little…better (about feeling this bitter). I chewed my gum a little more calmly as he nodded his head at me.

“How you doin’?” he mumbled as he leaned against the fence once more, his arms resting on it and his head resting on those.

“Tryin’ not to gag,” I muttered quietly enough for only him to hear. And I almost regretted it, but then he smiled (I guess because he understood), and I felt a little more at ease about it. “How was practice?” I asked because I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to.

“Fine, I guess. Sucked a li’l, too, ’cause it’s hot out here—like the fuckin’ Devil came and sat his asscrack right on top of the field,” I sniggered unexpectedly at this and he looked at me with a strange look and an even stranger smile. “Plus, my cup keeps stickin’ to my junk and—” he stopped midsentence and grumbled uncomfortably, readjusting the seat of his pants again. I looked away, equally as uncomfortable.

Unsure of what I should do (change the subject? stay and not talk? walk away?), I was extremely grateful when someone called his name from across the field. “Link! Southpaw, baby!” What made me stop was that it was a boy.

As a matter of fact, it was the same one that covered Link’s base (and winked at him?); he jogged toward us and put his arm around Link’s shoulder with a grin. I tried not to look surprised before Link shrugged his arm off.

“Goddamn, Denny!” Link shouted, though none of us really budged because of it. “I done told you and told you. I don’t too much mind you playin’ for the other team, but man, quit hittin’ on me!”

Denny looked at me—gave me the up and down, actually (and I felt a little strange), and he grinned at me. There was a pimple on his forehead and he had a slight under bite to his jaw, but his teeth were really pretty. “Whatever you say, mi cariñito!” with a brazen look on his face; Link sighed, kind of resignedly.

I liked Denny a little.

“Heya, I’m Denny and I like to make him uncomfortable—” he jerked his thumb at Link, “—I like boys, sure, but I swear, I ain’t that irritatin’,” he introduces himself to me, and I realized that everything that just happened was solely to piss Link off.

(Oh, my God, I loved Denny.)

“…Yo, Denny. My name Sarah Alice.” He took the cap off his head; a thick and extremely curly mess that was black and shined in the sun, going right along with his olive-brown skin. (I really did like Denny.)

“Ay, hijo de tu chingada madre, it’s hotter than hell!” he exclaimed, the words rolling off his tongue. Link nodded his head as if to agree with him. And Denny turned to Lucas and said, “’Ey! Quit lickin’ the inside of her mouth and drive me down to the Exxon, will ya?” (I might’ve choked.)

We gathered our stuff (Jolie’s camping chairs and the boys’ baseball gear) and all piled into Jolie’s truck—her and Lucas in the cab up front and Denny, Link, and I in the bed—and drove the minute and a half to the gas station down the road. By this point, I was feeling really thirsty (and the little trailer that was used as a concession stand on the field was out of water and they didn’t have anything else I was interested in), so I was actually looking forward on letting something inside my stomach. I was still pondering on whether I would let it stay or not as Link asked Denny if he would be coming to the pool tomorrow.

Lucas and Jolie took each other’s hand and walked inside, all skippidy-fucking-doo-da, not even bothering to wait on us as we hopped out of the bed. Inside it was much cooler, and I was thankful that Denny suggested (commanded) that we come here. Jolie and Link got Icees from the machine at the opposite side of the store—Jolie chose blue raspberry and Link mixed all three of the flavors present (blue raspberry, cherry, and Coca Cola) because he was still all about combining his drinks and making that suicide shit.

I chose to stay close to Denny (only God knew where Lucas went) and we walked together through the aisles as he talked about something insignificant to me. Also, I chose to listen because at this point he’d already mysteriously won me over.

“…And I used to have a lisp when I was in elementary school, which sucked ass, but I thank Dios up above ’cause I grew outta that, yes sir,” he exclaimed, nodding his head, messy curls flopping as he smiled. I smiled back instinctively (and I didn’t even feel a little strange).

He grabbed a Gatorade (Berry Rain) and asked me politely if I would like something to drink. Without thinking, I told him a bottle of water and he grabbed one of those for me, too. I told him, “Thank you,” quietly. He grinned, and when we saw Link turn the corner with his Icee at his mouth, his grin broadened.

And apparently, Link saw it the same time I did because, “C’mon, man—not now.”

I drank the majority of the water that day, and I let it stay in my stomach. (I choked on the rest while trying not to laugh at Denny sexually harassing Link.)



“Kenna rearranged my schedule again.”

Five days later. We were outside on Jolie’s porch, sitting on the “patio”. I refused to consider it an actual patio because it was nothing but a sofa, a recliner and a rocking chair (that didn’t even match) thrown together for anyone who walked down the street to see, clashing like some kind of Goddamn fashion catastrophe.

Jolie snorted. “Kenna. Ha.”

I was slightly out of the loop here, so I watched them carefully. Link put his hands over his eyes and brought his lips into his mouth. “I ain’t very sure how to tell her to leave me the fuck alone, I ain’t interested.”

She heaved a sigh and let her hands fall limp into her lap. “It ain’t even that big of a deal,” she reasoned.

And it was quiet for a moment (I heard myself breathing). I was somewhat curious. “Who’s Kenna?” I asked both of them in a quiet voice. Link removed his hands from his eyes—they were already open by the time he looked at me.

“Link’s boss,” Jolie explained.

I rolled this around in my head before Link declared, “She a psycho, Sarah Alice,” in a very straightforward tone. (The rolling around stopped.)

I raised my eyebrows and slumped back in my seat because there wasn’t much of an answer to that. Jolie cackled, familiar with the situation, apparently.
“He just mad ’cause she got a thing for him and he don’t know how to tell her to back up.”

I angled my body towards Link a little (as I tried not to smile). “What’s wrong with her?”

His eyes narrowed quickly. “What you mean?”

Idiot. “You said she was a psycho. So…ain’t you gonna tell me what’s wrong with her?”

I watched his face relax (as if that stupid fucker had a reason to be tense). “She, uh—well, she be arrangin’ my shifts so that me and her, we workin’ at the same time. And she always askin’ me if I’ll rub sunscreen on her back. And sometimes when I’m on my break, I’ll swim a li’l bit, right?” I nodded some and waited for him to go on. “When I swim, I swear—I swear—she always watchin’ me. Shit.” By the time he finished speaking, his eyes were squinted and his mouth was turned down in disdain.

I sat back slowly as I took this in, letting Jolie’s ugly ass not-even-patio sofa touch my back. “I’d love to meet her.”



And so, the next time that Link had to work, Jolie asked if I would be coming with them to the pool. My curiosity for wanting to see Kenna in action was the only reason I told her yes.

The bathing suit that I wore this time around was still pretty pathetic. A strapless two-piece that didn’t look like a two piece at all, but instead like I was wearing a strapless shirt and panties. I wasn’t very sure of which bathing suits of mine were the worst, but at this point it didn’t even matter. To be self-preserving (or maybe self-detrimental) and all that.

Gran wasn’t home—supposedly she was at some book meeting or something like that, I didn’t know, I was listening hard enough—so Jolie would come and pick me up in a little while.

It was almost like protocol now; mandatory. My finger pushed further down my throat of their own accord, and the bile burned and stung in a way that would bother just about everyone else. I, however, found it familiar to the point where I could successfully block it out and push through the dry heaving and choking sounds that didn’t even sound like they were coming from me anymore.

The hurting I felt afterwards, it wasn’t so harsh as I flushed the toilet, watched as my diluted, not-even-close-to-being-digested stomach contents were being sucked down the pipe. After washing my hands, I wiped the tears away from my eyes and swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth, swiping my toothbrush off my dresser.

While brushing my teeth—and quite thoroughly at that, might I add—I thought about Kenna. Was she really as bad as Link said? Or was he just being a douchenozzle? Was everything he said a coincidence? Or was she really that much of a madcap?

Yesterday, I had asked Gran to let me drive to the store so I could pick up some Listerine. I started Driver’s Ed when I was fifteen and a half, and so having just turned sixteen back in May, I was stuck driving around with adults no later than nine for the next couple of months.

(“No later than nine” these nuts.)

Anyways…I decided that I wanted to be as thorough as possible when brushing my teeth because of my…habit. I even picked up some dental floss.

I had swished around the Listerine for a couple minutes and ran the floss between my teeth, and lay flat on my bed when I was finished; the popcorn ceiling was looking like a mistake from this angle. I decided to remain undecided as I stared at the light above me, then the rotating fan to my right.

I put my arms above my head, stretching (like Link did that night he and I were bitching at one another in the McDonald’s booth) when a honk came from outside; ah, Jolie. I popped two pieces of Polar Ice into my mouth, grabbed my key off the nightstand and slipped into my high school gym shorts from last year, sliding on my flip flops on my way out the door.

“’Ey, you ready?” Jolie shouted, unnecessarily loud, from her truck, her head sticking out of the window.

“Yeah, yeah—I’m comin’,” I mumbled. Instinctively, I looked at the passenger seat (and I almost smiled); no one was there. So I got in beside her, chewing my gum calmly.

Twenty minutes later, and we were at the pool entrance, paying three dollars each. The smell of chlorine grew stronger as we walked through the changing room and out towards the pool itself. We found Lucas—he was in the best location for shade, by the benches. He waved at us. Jolie scurried ahead of me, threw her things by where he sat and fell beside him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him with a smile on her face.

Looking at them (and then trying not to), I didn’t remember why I came here—this is some bullshit.

Really, I didn’t want to go over there. So instead—in an attempt to prolong having to go sit with Jolie and Lucas—I took in my surroundings. I vaguely knew only a good three or four people there. ‘Vaguely’ because it wasn’t like I could really sit down and talk with them. Good thing I didn’t want to, huh?

And then I saw Link, working at the concession stand once again. After he handed an Italian dude his change, his eyes wandered a bit before he found mine. He nodded towards me in acknowledgment and waved me over.

“Hey,” he greeted once I was in earshot.

Sighing, I rested my head on the countertop and stared up at his face. “What’s good?”

Being somewhat close to him, I observed him (and felt a little strange afterwards) as he spoke. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes were lazy. “It’s hotter than hell today—my paycheck’s gonna be bitchin’ ’cause everybody’s buyin’ all the soda.” I nodded to show that I understood.

He asked where Jo was and I wanted to roll my eyes. (God, I got so fucking irritated by her.) I scrunched up my nose (hoping that would be enough to show my distaste) and jerked my thumb in her direction. He and I both looked back at Jolie and Lucas, only to see how he was flat on his back with her straddling him by the hips.

(See what I mean? She could be so damn extra sometimes.)

I turned back towards Link and took in his pursed lips and hard eyes. He looked taken aback. When he glanced back down at me, his mouth turned up a bit in an indolent smirk. Stupid. The freckles on his cheeks shifted a little. “That’s why you over here, ain‘t it?”

I didn’t even attempt to lie. “For sure, man.”

It was times like this, small moments like these where I sort of, kind of…appreciated his presence. PDA of people that we commonly knew both made us sick to our fucking stomachs. I didn’t know this, but people can bond over their irritation for other people.

He laughed through his nose a little and looked down at his feet. “Well. Can I get you somethin’ while you’re—uh—waitin’?”

And for a second time, I noticed his nipple piercings. Small gauges, straight through the middle, reflecting the sun. (I almost felt embarrassed for myself as) I considered what he said—could he get me something? “A Pepsi…I guess.”

(Though it’s not like I would drink it.)

Suddenly, a girl appeared. She had strawberry blonde hair with cutesy bangs, skin that was darker than Link’s but lighter than Jolie’s, and she was an entire head shorter than Link. When she spotted Link, her face brightened with a grin.

So I guessed that this was Kenna.

“Hi, Link.” She blows her bangs out of her face and smiles wider. I almost raised my brows because she just had this look on her face. (I was sure that if she could’ve kissed him right then and there, she would’ve.)

Having not yet turned around, Link jumped a bit, but I don’t think she noticed. “Oh—uh, ’sup, Kenna?” he mumbled with his back still turned to her. He looked at me with an alarmed look. Even though I felt myself wanting to laugh, I felt bad for him…more or less. She laughed in a girly way, and as annoying as that was, she was actually kind of…okay. I didn’t see anything wrong.

And she saw me and quieted. (Fuck.) “Who this?” she asked, sounding kind of mousy. She smiled still, but it was kind of…amiss, I guessed.

“This Sarah Alice. Sarah Alice, this Kenna, my boss,” he introduced. I stood up straight and smiled, trying not squirm.

Her gaze made me feel self-conscious (even more than before, mind you) as she said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Not really (she made things too uncomfortable).

I counted in my head and got to four before Kenna cleared her throat. “Yeah, um, Link?”

I watched, still silent as a mouse, as he rolled his eyes before turning around slowly. Very, very slowly. (What a drama queen.) “Yeah?”

“Could you work the lifeguard chair for me? I gotta make a run in a minute.”

“Sure thing, just lemme give Sarah Alice her Pep—”

“—Aw nah, I can get it for you, that’s alright,” she cut him off quickly, beaming at him. I was sort of uncomfortable because it was like I wasn’t even visible (maybe this was on purpose?) but I didn’t mind because it was fun to see Link squirm like the little worm he was.

“You sure ’bout it?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you worry ’bout nothin’.”

Link turned around again, and the first thing that I saw was that his eyebrows were raised very high on his forehead, eyes downcast. Surprised, I thought. He hopped over the counter, nipple rings glinting, almost as if they were winking at me (I just—) as he came to a halt beside me. He had his back turned to Kenna, his elbows propped against the counter in a way of support.

“Fuckin’ psycho,” he mouthed, looking at me expectantly. I only stared above his head and pursed my lips to stop myself from saying something inappropriate because, oh, my God, she was right there.

If I was being honest, I didn’t see why he wouldn’t be attracted to her. She was pretty. She seemed nice enough. I didn’t detect any type of major problem.

My stomach growled suddenly, and I prayed to God up above me that neither of them heard. (Please God, don’t let me be discovered by people I don’t even like—)

Time moved on without me, and the moment of panic was over because Kenna gave me a can of Pepsi and smiled. “Seventy-five cents, please.”

I gave her a buck and told her to keep the change. Link was full of shit; there was nothing wrong with that girl.

I assumed to get away from Kenna, Link decided to walk with me back towards Jolie and Lucas. I felt his eyes on me, burning a motherfucking pothole into my cheek, so I turned my head a little and saw him watching me, unabashed.

“What?” I started, my tone sharp.

“You let her keep the change.” He said it as if it were actually supposed to mean something imperative, that dumbass.

“What ’bout it?”

“You ain’t supposed to let your friend’s stalker keep the change,” he spat back at me.

“You ain’t my friend,” I retorted quickly. He wasn’t going to guilt me into shit. (Nice try, sunshine.)

“Aw, hush up,” he snapped in a who gives a damn? voice, taking the can out of my hand and popping it open, taking a couple of gulps before hiccupping.

I didn’t care enough to take it back from him because I didn’t even want it, but that was still a stupid thing to do. “So I dunno what that was for.”

“That’s for lettin’ her keep the change, li’l asshole.”

“Oh, fuck you, it’s a quarter.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s the principle of the thing, Sarah Alice,” he countered in an all-knowing voice. Trying to be all formal and shit.

Swiftly, something occurred to me. I laughed unthinkingly; consequently, he looked at me strangely. “What?”

“You a li’l bitch,” I informed the little bitch, still laughing openly.

“No, I ain’t.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, yeah, you is. She ain’t even done nothin’ to you.”

“She do it when—”(he hiccupped here)“—when people ain’t payin’ no attention to make it look like I’m the wacko.”

Sure. “Like you need any help.”

Hiccup. “I’m serious, man, serious as a dead dog! She a fuckin’ lunatic, Sarah Alice!” he exclaimed with his right hand in the air, fingers spread wide. Hiccup.

“Okay, okay—I believe you.” (Bullshit.)

“Thank you,” he muttered, sipping on my Pepsi some more.

“Well—”(hiccup, hiccup)“—now what?” I inquired ten seconds later. I found some kind of…enjoyment when I kept reminding him of Kenna.

“Huh?”

Idiot. “What you gonna say to her?”

“Can’t say much…not really. That’s my boss, you feel me?” he reasoned with me and himself, his eyes hard. He drank some more of my soda; I couldn’t be bothered enough to stop him.

When he and I reached Jolie and Lucas, they were (thankfully) done being horndogs. Jolie was resting against Lucas’ calves, content. “My man,” Lucas greeted Link, bumping fists. He saluted to me. He was cool.

Jolie grinned and said, “Hey!” in a voice higher than her own. Link smiled at them both and greeted them with a “yo.” I sat down a bit further back than Lucas, not making a sound. I briefly considered getting in the pool while they spoke.

“You gonna take a load off or what?” Jolie asked him, playing with Lucas’ feet absentmindedly. (Maybe if I get up quietly they won’t notice me go…)

“Yeah, man, take your break and come hang.”

Link shrugged, looking impassive as he glanced at me. “Can’t. Kenna’s go tme workin’ the chair ’til she gets back.”

“That li’l chickie that’s been gettin' at you?” Lucas specified with eyebrows raised; I watched Jolie’s faced and she snickered, pretending to give a shit (I kind of saw how we were related).

Link only nodded, rubbing his chin and pinching up his mouth. He brought the soda can up to his mouth and I narrowed my eyes because—my can, his lips. I considered tipping it over, but I realized that was too childish.

“No big thing, just take it when miss thing comes back,” my cousin said, squinting in the sunlight.

“I’ll try that,” he mumbled sardonically. He glanced at me again, but it was a bit longer than before. His forehead twitched a little bit and I frowned at him. He looked like he might’ve wanted to laugh at me. Glancing over his shoulder, I saw where Kenna stood at the concession stand and even from where I sat, I saw her smile widen when he stood up and nodded his head toward her.

Who knew? Maybe she was a psycho (but I’d never admit that to Link).

“See y’all in a minute.” And he waved before jogging towards the chair and pulling himself up the latter.

“C’mon, let’s go swim.” (I didn’t pay enough attention to see who’d said it.) So I kicked off my shorts and shoes and walked towards the edge of the pool, undoing the bun in my hair as I thought.

On a more or less serious note, she couldn’t be that bad. She was so…nice. I told myself that it was nothing more than Link being a stiff shithead. (And then I realized that it shouldn’t have mattered to me while) I stared at the 6 FT sign through the webbings of my toes. I wrapped my arms around my midsection, suddenly feeling the nervousness that someone would notice my body. It hadn’t bothered me this whole goddamn time, and I—

A whistle was blown somewhere from the right of me. I heard myself yelp as I fell into the pool. Embarrassment could wait; the chlorine was completely unforgiving as I accidentally inhaled it. God, that shit hurt. Above the water, I was instantly trying to vomit (pun totally and whole-heartedly intended) my innards as I found the edge and rested my hands on the warm concrete, just trying to breathe.

(Really, most of the time, I was just trying to breathe.)

And then I heard Link’s laughter. And I…I knew it was his, too, because it came directly from his diaphragm.

Stupid fuck.

My head snapped up to see him chortling at my expense from the lifeguard chair, his face shadowed by the ass-ugly umbrella. Stupid fuck.

(Breathe, breathe.) I made my expression as calm as I could manage, and said to him coolly, “I hope she castrates you, fuckboy.” And I pushed myself underneath the water once more, not even looking at him. (Too…ugh, embarrassed to, really.)

Under the water, I swam as hard as I could, towards the very bottom, letting the floor of the pool graze the tips of my fingers. (I felt my stomach moan, and I wanted to punch something.)

Now? I prayed she was psycho.