Another Teen Love Story

After school I decided to hitch a ride to Puccini’s Pizza Parlor with Donna. She went there every day after school to help her family set the store up before the evening dinner rush. Donna had invited me along so, after she was finished setting up, we could work on our French assignment together.

“I just don’t get it! Why do I have to be paired up with Aiden? He’s a completely narcissistic, arrogant, rich brat who only gets his way because his father has money!”

“Whoa. Way to be harsh, Anna. You’ve known him for, what, seventy-five minutes?” Donna said as she began to set out silverware on the red and white checkered tablecloths.

“That’s all I need to tell that he is a complete jerk.”

“Well, look at it this way; you only have to see him for eighty minutes every other day. It could be worse.”

I shuddered. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what?”

“That it could be worse. It always gets worse when you think it couldn’t be worse.”

Donna rolled her eyes and wiped the remainders of spaghetti sauce off of a vinyl cushion. “You know, Anna, Aiden wasn’t always such a jerk.”

I snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No really,” she insisted, and sat down in the chair across from me. “He was really popular in middle school. Not the Popular-Because-I’m-Rich-And-Beautiful popular that he is now, but popular because, well…Everyone liked him. He was an overall nice guy. He was fun to be around.”

“Well what happened?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine Aiden as being “nice,” as Donna had termed it.

“I guess he started to change after his grandpa died. Aiden was super close to his grandpa; closer than he was to his own parents. His grandpa practically raised Aiden, seeing as how his parents were always out on business trips. Aiden didn’t see his parents much; maybe a few times every month, and even then he either say his mom or his dad. They were never together.

“Aiden’s grandpa passed away the summer before our freshman year. He probably would have turned out okay if it hadn’t been for how his parents handled it. Instead of spending time with their son, they got a nanny. When Aiden refused to go to school, they started bribing him with gifts and expensive vacations. And as the years passed it got worse. Not to mention that last summer there was a rumor that Aiden’s mom was having an affair with another married man.”

“Well that explains his arrogant behavior,” I mumbled.

Donna sighed and stood up. “Yeah, it does. But it also proves that there’s some good in him.”

“Who are you two talking about?” A teenage boy came out of the kitchen, wielding a pizza. He sat down at a table in the center of the room and grabbed a slice. I recognized him as the same guy all those weeks ago who let me have the pizzas for free.

“Aiden Wright,” Donna said.

The boy grimaced. “That guy’s an asshole. Two months ago I took a dozen pizzas to his place during a party and he didn’t give a tip. Do you know how hard it is to balance twelve pizzas on a scooter?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Anna, it is my misfortune to introduce you to my brother, Michael.”

“The misfortune is all mine,” Michael said, giving a little bow of his head. I laughed. He seemed like a pleasant enough guy. And despite the bickering, I could see Donna and Michael really loved each other.

“So, do you go to Percy Prep too?” I directed my question to Michael, but it was Donna who answered.

“Please, like he would ever last a day at Percy. It was a miracle he graduated high school, let alone get into community college.”

Michael scrunched his face at his sister. “Like I would want to go to a school full of rich snobs. I did just fine with my public school education.”

“Yeah, if you consider ‘just fine’ to mean working as a cook at a family restaurant, studying art at a mediocre level, and having nothing to your name but a notebook of sketches as ‘just fine,’ then yes, you are,” Donna mocked.

“You draw?” I asked, trying to find a way to turn the attention away from putting Michael down.

He shrugged, suddenly bashful. “Sketches, mostly. They’re not that great.”

“Still, I’d like to see them.”

“But not now. We need to pratiquer nos françaises,” Donna sang, slipping into French.

“Whatever. I have to get ready for a date anyways,” Michael said, wiping the sauce from his mouth with a napkin and standing up.

“It’s not that girl, is it? What’s her name…Brandy?”

“It’s Alexa. And yes, it’s the same girl,” Michael said with a bright smile.

“She is such a slut,” Donna cried.

“I know.” His smile turned from sweet and into a rakish grin. There was a light in his eyes that hinted towards his reasons for dating this girl. It wasn’t for the conversation.

“Tell Mom and Dad not to wait up,” he joked, and gave his sister a quick peck on the top of her head. Donna promptly grimaced and furiously wiped her hair.

“Now I have to sanitize myself. Thanks, Michael,” she spat.

“My pleasure,” he smiled, and left the restaurant.

“Your brother seems nice,” I remarked once the door had closed.

Donna scoffed. “He’s alright. Once you look past the sarcasm and the perverted-ness, that is.”

“Well aren’t all guys like that? Sarcastic and horny?”

“Not all…” Donna said, quickly trailing off in thought. A blush rose in her cheeks. It didn’t take long for me to realize what she was talking about.

“Although, I guess Dillon Le isn’t that bad,” I said with a smile playing at the corner’s of my mouth.

“What?” Donna asked, her voice suddenly an octave higher than normal.

“Dillon. You know, your fake husband. He seems nice.”

“Oh. Yes, I-I suppose he is…” she stuttered.

“You suppose?”

“Well, I don’t really know him that well…”

“Then this year would be the perfect opportunity to get to know him,” I said, no longer able to suppress my smile. Donna looked up at me, puzzled. I simply wagged my eyebrows. Her blush deepened in color.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked meekly.

I shook my head. “No. Not really. I’m just extra good at seeing these kinds of things.”

“Oh,” Donna said. She sat back down at the booth. Work probably didn’t seem that important at the moment. “You don’t think Dillon noticed, do you?”

I remembered the way Dillon smiled when he was paired with Donna earlier today in class. My instinct was that Donna’s feelings were mutual. But I didn’t want to tell Donna that. I couldn’t play matchmaker all the time. Some things had to be left to fate. “No, I don’t. Guys are really dense about those sort of things.”

A smile spread across Donna’s pale face. “They are, aren’t they?”

Donna started going into a one-sided conversation about the upcoming Homecoming Dance and wondering how she should drop hints and convince Dillon into asking her. She then proceeded to imagine the color and style of dress she should wear. I smiled and listened politely while flipping through the French book. It was refreshing to listen to someone else’s relationship problems.



Later that night, I lay awake in my bed, clutching my cell phone in my hand, watching the illuminated screen as the minutes slowly passed by.

I hadn’t heard from Jeff in two days, not since the text he sent me the night before my first day of school. My voice mail was empty, all my messages were read. It was as if Jeff had fallen off the face of the planet.

Once again, I dismissed Jeff’s inattentiveness due to his busy schedule. I wasn’t the only one starting my senior year. Jeff would be in school by now. He probably had a class or two that took up all his free time.

So, for the second night in a row, I fell asleep holding my cell phone, waiting to hear from Jeff.