Seven

Jared is actually a pretty cool kid. It took longer than I thought it would, washing my top. And then we had to dry it. So it ended up taking quite a while. But Jared is a good person to pass the time with. We didn’t really kiss anymore after the old lady left. Shocker, right? You’re probably thinking I can’t keep my lips off a boy my age for more than two seconds. But I’m really not like that. We mostly just talked (boring, I know). Except, it wasn’t boring because Jared is an interesting person. It was fun. Just in a different way.

We walked around for a while, until Noah came running up to us and yanked me back toward room 514, saying we were going out to dinner. I hadn’t realized it had gotten so late, and so I just let Noah drag me to our room. See? Jared is a good person to pass the time with.

My mom ended up dragging us to this restaurant 30 minutes away with cramped seating and very low lighting. Probably so we wouldn’t notice the things lurking in the corners. In all honesty, I was afraid to eat anything.

But that was yesterday, and now I’m in room 514, staring out the window and waiting for Mel to answer her phone. I’d planned to call her yesterday, but Jared had distracted me. He’s leaving today, though. In fact, he’s probably already gone. I miraculously got to sleep in pretty late. The room was void of any of my family members when I woke up, and they’re still MIA.

“Hello?”

At first I don’t know what to say. It’s strange hearing Mel’s voice while standing in a hotel room in Mexico. Almost like: which of these does not belong?

“Hello?” she repeats impatiently. “I swear to God, Jeffie, if this is you—”

“Mel! It’s me!” I say before she can massacre me through the phone.

“Oh. Well you could have said that,” she sneers. I can only imagine the look she’s got on her face.

“Hey, now. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll hang up.” It’s not an empty threat. Mel can get into these whirlwind bad moods that no one can pull her out of. She just sucks you in until you’re worse than her.

“Don’t,” she says. “I’m just mad because people are idiots and I don’t have anyone to vent to now that you’re in a different freaking country.” She pauses. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

I resist a laugh. “It’s not like I fled the country. And it’s not like I had a choice, anyway.”

“Whatever. Will you just hurry up and get back here already?”

“Okay. Let me just grab my running shoes and I’ll be on my way.” This is why I prefer calling to texting. There is no font for sarcasm.

“So, see you around dinnertime? I don’t think there’s a time difference or anything.” This is why Mel is my best friend. She understands my humor.

“Yeah, but we’ve got to take traffic into consideration. Rush hour and everything.”

“Right. All those herds of people running north for the night.”

“I hear it’s getting pretty popular. It’s more environment-friendly than taking those silly cars or airplanes.”

“Yes.” Mel has a hard time keeping her laughter in. “So silly.”

And then I’m laughing and it’s like I’m in my room back home, with Mel on forever-speakerphone even though we see each other almost every day. I fall back onto the bed and sink into the mattress.
“But seriously, Vi, I hate people.”

“I know.” It’s not that Mel hates people. It’s just that she likes everything else better than them. Namely, pizza and Mario Kart. However, this does not stop people from liking her. In fact, I think it’s one of the reasons people like her so much. She’s never wrapped up in what people think of her or say about her. She’s just so effortlessly Mel. “What did the people do now?”

“They took my hat,” she says, like they stole her new puppy or something. “Nobody takes my hat.” And just like that she sounds like she’s ready to knife someone.

Mel always wears these beanie things, even though we’re not supposed to wear hats in school, and she has nicer hair than anyone I know. It’s strawberry blonde and curls out at the ends. It used to go all the way down her back in loose curls, but she cut it to her shoulders after her ex-boyfriend told her it was the best thing about her.

“Did they give it back?”

“No,” she says, a smile creeping into her voice. “I took it back.”

Her tone implies innocence, but I know she’s anything but. “Mel—”
“Oh, please, Vi. I didn’t do anything that bad,” she says, all blasé and Mel-like. “How’s Mexico?”

“Nice change of subject,” I note, but let it slide. If it was anything too horrible, I would hear about it in the news. “Mexico is…” What? What is Mexico? “Sunny.”

“Sunny,” she repeats. “Sounds… great.”

I know she’s expecting a full-fledged account of everything that’s happened so far—and I want to tell her. But I don’t want her to think less of me. I know she would. She would act like it’s super exciting and whatever else, but I know she’d be disappointed. Two guys in two days? Come on, Vi.

After both of our previous relationships fell through at about the same time last year, we kind of had this unwritten rule not to waste our time on guys. At least until college. I didn’t share Mel’s alleged hate for all of mankind, but for a while there, I did share her hate for teenage boys.

But now…

“Listen, Mel, my mom is making me go to this thing soon, so I gotta go. But I’ll definitely call you later.”

“You better.”

I hang up before I can feel too guilty. My mom isn’t really making me go anywhere. I just lied to my best friend.

As if karma was just around the corner waiting to pounce, my mom bursts in the door and announces that we’re going on some tour to listen to some guy talk about the history of Mexico or something.

I’m never lying to Mel again.

I try to convince my mom to let me stay behind, but she’s not having it. She uses her I-am-your-mother-and-you-will-do-as-I-say voice yet again and I decide it’s not worth it to argue.