10. Opal
TEN
Opal
M y grandma pulls her car to a stop in the middle of a cul de sac in one of the fanciest neighborhoods in town. We’re surrounded by two-story, brick houses with beautifully maintained yards.
“Y’all have fun and be safe,” she says it cheerfully, but I can tell by the look in her eye that she’s scrutinizing the house we’re about to walk into, probably wondering if she should have told me I couldn’t come at all.
“Thanks, Mamaw.” I kiss her on the cheek before opening the door. Alex thanks her as well, and we walk up the circular driveway towards the front porch. I can hear loud techno music coming from inside.
“Oh my gosh, you’re here!” Brooke pulls me in for a quick hug once she spots me, and then steps back, sweeping her eyes up and down Alex’s body next to me. “Hi, I’m Brooke! So glad you could make it.” I don’t miss the way she pushes out her chest and arches her back just slightly while leaning towards him.
He nods and gives her a tight smile. “Thanks for the invite.”
Her house is filled with people from our school. Most of them are people I’ve never talked to. A huge banner that reads “Happy Birthday Brooke!” hangs on the wall of her living room, it’s surrounded by pink and silver balloons.
She hands us both a can of Bud Light, I try taking a sip of mine and never touch it again, deciding that I hate the flavor. Mom and Mamaw have always drank wine, but never beer, now I see why. I honestly can’t believe her parents would even allow her to have beer at a party considering how young we all are. It only takes a few minutes for Alex to finish his can and pop another open.
People crowd around Brooke constantly trying to get her attention, especially guys, but she seems to ignore most of them. Instead she focuses most of her attention on Alex, who doesn’t seem super interested in answering any of her questions. Brooke makes small talk with me here and there as well, asking me questions like where I got my hair-clip from (Target) and whether I think the guy who sits next to us in math is cute (I don’t).
She sways a little bit, her arm grazing against Alex’s, and a lazy smile fills her face. “So, you play guitar, right? That is so cool. I’m totally jealous.”
He grins and nods, acting humble like he always does. Alex finally took my advice, after years of prodding, to start posting videos of himself playing guitar. It started on Instagram, and once he gained a small following there he moved to YouTube. Now he’s somewhat of a mini celebrity here in town. He covers pop and rock songs, but adds a unique folksy twist to them that’s all his own.
“Thanks. It’s not that hard, you could learn if you wanted to.”
“Maybe you could teach me,” she says playfully. I no longer feel like I’m part of this conversation, and it’s officially starting to feel awkward as I stand here and watch it happen.
It’s hard to deny that the two of them almost…match. Her long, platinum hair and big brown eyes compliment his golden boy features. I can’t help but think he must be attracted to her. Everyone is. She’s by far the most popular girl in our class, and Alex is quickly becoming one of the more popular guys.
Them being together would make sense. Way more sense than he and I ever would.
“Don’t you think, Opal?” Brooke’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I suddenly realize I’ve been staring at the two of them for way too long.
“Hmm?” I ask, my cheeks turning red.
“Don’t you think Alex would look even hotter with short hair?” Brooke shoots me a grin that’s laced with something less than innocent. I hate her. Wait, what? No, that’s ridiculous. I’ve never been competitive with other girls, and I really do try to stay out of drama. But part of me really does want to hate her right now.
“I like his long hair,” I say, keeping my face void of emotion as I take another tiny sip of beer. I don’t want her to see that her comment had any effect on me. Alex is just my friend, that’s what I told her because it’s the truth.
“I agree,” Alex says, but now he’s smiling down at her. She’s a couple inches shorter than I am, so their height difference is quite evident.
“I’m gonna go get some water,” I say before I slide through the crowd, desperate to create some space between them and I. What the hell was I thinking bringing him here?
I know what I was thinking, that maybe after years of teetering between invisibility and being a total outcast that I might finally have a shot at being cool. What a stupid idea that was.
“Hey,” Alex’s deep voice startles me from behind and I spin around, my eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
Grasping my bottle of water too tightly, I nod my head. “Yeah, great. Never been better.” It comes out sounding way more sarcastic than it should.
He narrows his eyes at me slightly. “You sure? You’re acting weird. Do you want to leave?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. We just got here.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Alex!” One of the guys from the baseball team comes up behind him and slaps him on the shoulder. “Bro, you gotta play us a song. Your shit is awesome, I listen to it all the time.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “Thanks, I didn’t bring my guitar, though. Next time for sure, man.” I can tell that even though he’s flattered, he’s a little overwhelmed by the attention. He’s never really liked being the center of attention, even though with a face and voice like his he practically demands it.
“Yo, Brooke! Doesn’t your sister have a guitar?” the guy yells over his shoulder.
“Yeah!” She yells from across the room, practically jumping into the air out of excitement. “Hold on,” she says before running upstairs. She comes back down holding a pink acoustic guitar, then bounces over giddily to hand it to him.
“That’s okay, I don’t really know what to play.”
She sticks out her bottom lip and pouts like a dog. “Please? For me? It’ll be my birthday present.”
Oh, brother. A nervous grin stretches across Alex’s lips, and suddenly a pang of jealousy shoots through my heart.
“Someone turn down the music!” Brooke yells over the crowd. Somebody turns it off entirely, leaving us all in silence.
“Okay,” he says as he puts the guitar’s strap over his neck and walks backward a few steps away from the crowd. Everyone watches him silently, clearly interested to see what will happen next. My stomach lurches and I look down at the floor. I don’t know why, but I don’t like this.
Alex doesn’t really perform for other people except online. I guess I kind of felt like it was our special thing, him singing to me. It was silly of me to think it would always be that way.
His fingers start strumming a melody I instantly recognize as Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd. It’s one of my favorites. I peek up at him to see his green eyes are locked on mine, but he quickly looks away, his eyes darting over to Brooke as soon as we make eye contact. Everyone in the room seems to be transfixed by his guitar playing, and when he begins singing the lyrics, people whistle and clap.
He looks so… happy. I didn’t really expect that. As soon as he started playing it’s like all of his apprehensiveness disappeared. He looks completely in his element.
It should make me happy, seeing him get the attention he deserves for his talent, but it doesn’t. Instead I feel a bit sick.
I quietly weave through the crowd and head into the bathroom. I sit on the toilet and let out a long sigh, cradling my head in my hands. This plan of mine certainly backfired to a degree even I wouldn’t have predicted.
After I don’t know how long I hear a quiet tapping on the door. “Opal?”
I recognize Alex’s voice, so I stand up and open the door. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I shake my head. “I was using the bathroom.”
“Are you alright? You’ve been in here for a while.”
I didn’t even realize it had been that long, I just felt like I had to escape that moment, and it was the only option. Opening the door, I see that his face is filled with concern. “I’m fine, I’m just getting tired. I think I’m gonna head home, I texted my grandma.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to, really. I know you’re having fun.”
He shakes his head. “I came here to hang out with you. I don’t even know these people.”
A tight smile pulls at my lips. “Whatever you wanna do.”
“Let’s go chill outside until she gets here.” He reaches his hand out for mine, and it feels good when I let him hold it.
We start toward the front door, but a sharp feminine voice halts us. “Alex, wait!”
Brooke grabs his hand and stops him. “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty tired. Had fun though, we should do it again.” I honestly can’t tell if he’s just being his usual polite self, or if he really means it.
Brooke turns to me. “Hey girl, could I talk to Alex for just a sec before y’all leave?” She gives me a sweet and innocent smile.
“Sure,” I try to keep my voice light but it doesn’t work.
She pulls him away and I walk out the door, just wanting to get away from them. I sit down, pulling my phone out.
“Hey,” Alex sits beside me on one of the big brick stairs leading up to her front porch a few moments later.
“Hi.”
He smirks before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. At some point he picked up the habit, even though I made it clear I didn’t approve. I can’t deny that he looks kind of cool while smoking them though.
“Brooke asked me to go on a date with her.”
I’m not surprised at all, but I feel even more sick than before. “Did she?” My voice comes out a bit higher pitched than normal.
The flick of his lighter illuminates his face, showing off his defined cheekbones. “Mhm.” He looks almost bored with the conversation.
“So, what did you say?” I try my best to make it sound like I’m not that interested in his answer.
He shrugs, ashing his cigarette as he stares off into space. “Told her I’d think about it. I mean, she’s cute. And I think it’s cool that she likes my music.” He pauses for a minute. “It was kind of nice playing for all of them. I didn’t expect it to be that fun.”
Envy pours through my veins, and it burns like acid. I make a noncommittal humming sound.
His eyes slide over to mine and it looks like he’s searching for something, but I’m not sure what it is. “How would you feel about that? If we did go out.”
He’s asking me for permission?
I don’t like this. Does he feel like I have to approve of who he dates or something? It makes me feel weird that we’re even having this conversation. I know that he values my opinion as his friend, but sometimes I worry that he sees me more as a sister. The idea of that absolutely guts me, because I could never see Alex as a brother.
Surprisingly, Alex has never had a real relationship. Neither have I. And before now, I never thought about how our dynamic might change if either of us started dating people.
The thought makes my throat prickly. I don’t want things to change, but we’re getting older. We’ll both be fifteen in a couple of months. We’re not quite the awkward preteens we were when we first met.
He’s staring at me with wide eyes, and I realize it’s been way too long since I last spoke.
“Um, yeah. I mean, you should if you want to,” I shrug.
He blinks a couple times before his eyes settle on the space in between us. Our hands are only an inch or so apart. “You’re my best friend, Opal. You know that right?”
My stomach stirs, and a nagging voice in the back of my head tells me to take it back. You’re not okay with it, just tell him that. But I can’t do it, it’s like the words are caught in my throat.
“I know,” is all I manage to choke out instead.
His eyes meet mine again, they’re an unusually dark shade of green right now, like a deep forest in the middle of the night. “I can’t mess that up, I can’t lose you.” A thousand incoherent thoughts float through my brain simultaneously as I try to come up with a response.
“Why would you lose me?” I laugh, attempting to appear humored by the idea, even though I’m anything but.
“I don’t know.” He ashes his cigarette again, and a few of the embers float away into the night. “I guess, I just didn’t want to say yes without asking you first. Because I care about your opinion on stuff.”
I search his face for answers to a question that I’m not even sure how to ask.
I can’t do it. I can’t stop this guy, my best friend , from doing something that might actually make him happy. Even though I’ve seen him look happy plenty of times, it was fleeting happiness, and I’ve always taken note of the obvious emptiness in his heart that he tries so hard to conceal. He hasn’t had an easy life, why should I make it harder?
“You should say yes then,” I force a smile and hope that it looks genuine.
His mouth begins to open again, but before anything can come out, the headlights of Mamaw’s car round the corner. I quickly stand up and brush myself off, halfway thankful that the conversation is over.