Bottled Blue

After Jett left, I realized we’d never had a friendly parting before. The first day he came over, I passed out. The second time, he stormed off after I insulted him. After that, he didn’t come over for days, even though we’d probably get marked down for it. But this time, we were working on our math homework, which wasn’t even the same class because I was in calc and he was still in pre-calc. But he asked to work on it with me so I could give him a hand when he messed up.

But then he looked at his watch and said, “I gotta go.” He left with a casual, “See you later, Blue.”

It was weird. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want us to be friends. I shouldn’t have been nice to him. If things kept up at this rate, we’d likely do things like—talk—and—hang out between classes. I had to laugh at the thought of that. Like it would ever happen. We were just doing homework. We had to get along, or we’d kill each other. Besides, it’s not like Jett wanted to be my friend anyway.

I was wrong. I was very, very wrong. The next day at school, he came into biology late and tossed his backpack onto the table, crushing the papers I’d set out. Then, he plopped down into his seat and pulled out his notebook.

“So I was talking to my mom last night,” he said like we were continuing a conversation.

“Congratulations.” He didn’t blink.

“I told her what you said about trying new things. She thinks it’s a good idea. She wants me to take an art class. I told her I wasn’t interested, but she signed me up anyway. It’s this afternoon. And since this is all your fault, you’re coming with me.”

“I can’t. My mom is picking me up.” He shrugged.

“So?”

“So—that would be rude.”

“Call her in a passing period and tell her you’re going to an art class. My aunt will give you a ride home.”

“I honestly don’t really want to hang out with your stranger aunt or go to an art class, and I don’t think we should be hanging out together.”

“Well, ouch. Still hate me, I see. That’s good since I’m only taking you as payback for getting me into this situation in the first place.”

“No one said you had to tell your mom, doofus.”

“Meet you out front after school.” I groaned and thumped my forehead on the desk.

He was actually totally serious. After class, he followed me out so I could call my mom and let her know I was getting a ride from some strange woman I’d never met. All she said was, “That sounds fun,” in that stupid voice that suggested she thought I was lying about something. Like I was only pretending to hate Jett so I could go hook up with him or something.

After school, Jett was waiting outside. Leiden Private Academy had the worst uniforms ever. At least the colors. And the navy blue blazers they gave us didn’t do anything for warmth. But they figured since it was California, we wouldn’t need warmth anyway. And then there was me. Miss Always cold. Luckily since it was after hours, I could wear my own coat. It was lightweight since, yeah, it was definitely California. But it was a maroon peacoat style coat that was long enough to hide my hideous mustard yellow plaid skirt.

When I stepped out front, forgetting already that Jett said he’d meet me, he was leaning against a brick wall wearing a similar peacoat. Only his was blue. It looked stupidly cool and fashionable, and I hated it.

“So my dad is going to give us a ride to my house, and then my aunt will pick us up,” he explained without even saying hello.

“You don’t have a car?” I asked. It was weird that the son of rock legends didn’t even have a car. I thought he’d have something stupid and pretentious like a Camero or a Mustang or something.

“No.”

“How do you get to my house every day?”

“You live like three blocks away from me. How did you think I knew where you lived?”

“Really? I thought you were just being creepy.” He just nodded like I was an idiot.

“I live behind that junkyard. Down the street from the hotdog/slushy place.”

“Great. I don’t know where the junkyard is, and I don’t like hotdogs or slushies.”

“Are you a vegetarian?”

“I might be.”

“Pretentious vegan?”

“I can be whoever the hell I want to be.”

“Right. Anyway, here we go.”

His dad’s shiny red car was already parked against the curb. But even though his dad was famous and all that, it was a pretty average car. Not a muscle car or anything. Just like a basic sedan. His two sisters were already inside. Diamond had taken the front and was chatting with her dad while Pearl sat behind them, daydreaming out of the window. Jett opened the door and stood back to let me in. I really didn’t want to sit in the middle, but I climbed in anyway.

Jett was almost the spitting image of his dad. They had the same coloring, but his dad’s eyes were greener and not as wide. He had tattoos on his arms and glanced at me from the rearview mirror. Even in his forties, he was a good-looking guy. My mom would have called him a DILF. Actually, I was pretty sure she did once. He apparently had no idea who I was or why I was sitting in his car.

“This is Aasha,” Jett said, sliding in beside me and shutting the door. “I’m forcing her to go to that art class with me since it’s her fault anyway.”

“Right,” his dad said in a very Jett-like way.

The drive was almost unbearable. I hated sitting stuffed between Jett and his sister. My dad told me that he used to buy Shoot the Gems records in high school, and I’d seen their pictures in magazines. I saw them on TV once or twice for benefits or award shows. And now I was sitting in their car between their offspring. One of whom had his knee against mine.

Jett was right, though. They lived only a few blocks away from me in a lemon yellow house with a big fence around it. I guess I was expecting—more. Like a house on the beach with a pool and animal skin rugs or something. I thought they’d have marble floors and crystal chandeliers. But, instead, it was just disappointingly ordinary. It blended right in aside from the locked gate. You would never have guessed anyone important lived there.

When the car stopped in the driveway, we all piled out. I followed the family as they led a stranger into their house like it was no big deal. The inside of the house was just as normal. No black or red painted walls. No rock posters or skulls. Just a basic home. Like a regular family. How boring.

The family parted the moment we stepped inside. Both girls headed up the stairs, and Jett’s dad disappeared into the garage, leaving the two of us standing there in the living room. I was eyeing the grand piano and wondering if Jett could play it.

“So this is it,” he said, throwing his hands wide to show me his boringly average house.

“Nice, I guess.”

“That’s Cujo.” He motioned toward an overweight pitbull, lazing on the rug in front of an unlit fireplace.

“Cool. He looks nice.”

“I guess we can just chill until my aunt gets here.” I shrugged.

“Whatever.”

“C’mon.” He turned toward the stairs, and I stayed put.

“I’m not setting one foot in your room, Kanellis.” He stopped on the bottom step.

“Really? We’re going to do this?” I nodded.

“I like her,” a voice said from the top of the stairs. It was Diamond. She was grinning as she hopped back down the stairs. “Because she doesn’t like you.” He grabbed her by the head and then shoved her away. She giggled and trotted into the kitchen, attempting to fix her long brown hair as she went.

“What do you think I’m going to do with my whole family here, Inglewood?” he asked.

“I just don’t want to be in your room.”

“Fine then. Stay in the living room.” Then he ran up the stairs, and I groaned. I thought about sitting on the couch and watching TV. But they clearly didn’t scrimp on their cable bill. The remote looked complicated, and they probably had a satellite dish. I’d never be able to figure it out.

Diamond stepped back out of the kitchen, eating from a container of peach yogurt.

“His room is clean. I think. My mom made him clean it yesterday,” she told me. I nodded, hands still in my pockets.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” Then she disappeared up the stairs. I stood there uncomfortable in the silence. I lasted about one more minute before the door to the garage opened, and Jett’s dad came back out. He seemed almost alarmed to find me still standing in the living room all alone.

“Where’d the kids go?” he asked.

“Upstairs.”

“Are they planning on coming back down any time soon?” I shrugged again.

“Maybe.” He headed toward the kitchen.

“He doesn’t bite, you know?” he said over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner. Then I sighed to myself. They’d never leave me alone.