Chapter 12 #2
I’ve never thought about myself as having any kind of recognizable style.
I wear stuff that I like and that fits—which is not always easy to achieve as a plus-size person.
It got to the point where I started saving whatever extra money I had to order custom-made clothes because that was the only way to feel good about myself.
I want to wear the same styles as everyone else, but so few brands are willing to make those patterns any bigger.
So I do it myself. (With the help of a skilled tailor because I am absolutely, one hundred percent incapable of even threading a needle, much less sewing.)
Taylor: Like a bad one?
Amity: No, like a VIBE.
Taylor: Your caps are not doing the work you think they are.
Amity: You know, a style or whatever.
Taylor: Oh for sure! What Masshole is telling you that you don’t have style? I will place a pox on their lipsticks so they melt all over their purses.
Amity: Wow, stand down Sabrina. No spells needed. It was actually the opposite. Someone said I had a vibe.
Taylor: AMITY JANE CALLAWAY, ARE YOU MAKING FRIENDS WITHOUT ME?!?!
Amity: I think maybe I am?
Taylor: OMG, I love this for you. Just don’t eat tacos with them. That’s our thing.
I laugh as I make my way into the house. Mom’s waiting for me in the living room with Thai food; our brand-new appliances, which were just delivered yesterday, are covered in tarps and sheets while the Hargraves hang the drywall in the kitchen and paint.
“How was the first day?” she asks.
As soon as I flop down beside her, she hands me a bowl of pad thai and a fork.
“Mostly uneventful.” Theo never responded to the gas leak article, and I eventually lost interest in finding more evidence, so Loretta taught me how to check out books and put others on hold, and then she let me make a display in the young adult section.
I, of course, themed it around haunted houses. I thought it fitting since it’s basically Summerween. And if Theo happens to see the display, that’s just icing on the cake. I hope Loretta tells him I did it.
I look at my mother as I twirl some noodles around the tines of my fork. “How was the office?”
She dips a spring roll in an orange-colored sauce. “Warm. They’re not installing the AC until August.” After taking a bite, she sweeps her hand over the coffee table, where our take-out containers are surrounded by stacks of articles and textbooks. “I got more done here, even with all the noise.”
“We didn’t really think through living with construction, huh?” Yesterday, I was dragged out of sleep at eight-thirty by the sounds of Theo and Jesse arguing over who was priming the kitchen walls and who was helping their dad in the dining room.
Not to mention that I can no longer leave my room in the morning without brushing my hair and making sure my clothes are acceptable for human interaction. And when I’m in the bathroom, my whole body is too aware that Theo is out there, just a few feet away.
Every day, the friends and family discount is feeling less like a steal.
“It’s definitely an adjustment. But it’ll be over before we know it.” Mom pats my leg comfortingly.
My phone lights up with a text from Taylor. All the lock screen says is image, so I pick it up and swipe the message open. Staring up at me is a screenshot of a ticket. From LAX to PVD. Landing on August 6.
I yell, causing my poor mom to toss her second spring roll in the air.
“What?” She blinks at me, eyes wide.
I flash the phone at her. “Taylor and Nadya are coming!”
She blows out a breath as she dabs at a smear of sauce on the air mattress’s sheet with a napkin. “That’s great, sweetie, but next time, less yelling. I’m too old for a jump scare.”
“Sorry. I just…really miss her.”
“I love that she’s coming for your birthday.” Mom takes an extra-long slug of her wine before setting the glass back on the floor. God, I really did scare her. “We’ll have to start making plans.”
I nod, then gather my bag, dinner, and water bottle in my arms. “I’m going to go call her.”
“Have fun.” Mom pushes her glasses down from her hair to her nose and pulls one of the articles from the floor into her lap. By the time I stand, she’s already disappeared into whatever random academic thing she’s into now.
Taylor beats me to the call, my phone ringing as I’m shoving my way through the plastic sheet hanging across the den’s doorframe. I unload my arms and swipe open the video call before I register the face on the screen.
When I finally focus, I realize I’m staring at Theo, not my best friend.
“What the hell?” I hang up. Then I toss the phone on the bed.
Why is he calling me? Who does that? No one talks on the phone anymore. Especially kids our age. The only reason I’ll take a call from Taylor is because we’ve known each other since before we had the ability to text.
Phone calls are for old relatives and spam.
My phone rings again, and Theo’s face floats across the screen. I don’t move, looming above it as I let it go to the voicemail I never set up.
The third time, I finally pick up. I’m afraid if I don’t, he’ll violate another unspoken social code among our generation and just show up at my door. Again.
“Who died?” I ask the second the call connects.
“Well, hello to you too. I’m doing great, Amity. Thanks for asking.” One of those big, goofy grins is plastered across his face.
“People only call when someone’s died or they’re trying to sell you something. So which is it?” I sink onto my air mattress and rest my back against the wall. Then, angling the phone on my stack of pillows so I’m mostly in the frame, I pick up my dinner.
His hair falls over his eyes as he shakes his head at me. “I like talking on the phone.”
“I knew you were deranged.”
He lets out a loud laugh.
“Also, if you’re going to force me to talk to you on this thing, you’re going to have to watch me eat.” I stab my fork into the noodles.
There’s a loud crunch, and when my eyes find the screen again, Theo is shoving a second tortilla chip between his lips.
“Now we’re even.”
I roll my eyes. “What can I do for you, Theo?”
“Mark your calendar,” he says. “Friday night, you and I are going to set up a devil’s marble in that closet.”
“What in god’s name is that?” It sounds like a euphemism for the parts of the devil that don’t see the sun.
His eyes flash with excitement. “A tool that will help me prove to you definitively that a ghost is haunting your house.”
I must have really gotten in his head with my research earlier. And I have plenty more where that came from. “Why wait two days?”
The smile drops from his face. “Dad’s sending Jesse and me on a supply run tomorrow. Which basically means listening to my brother rag on me for eight hours straight.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Park his car under a tree so birds use it like a toilet.” Theo chuckles and suddenly I can’t help but try to get him to do it again. “Or better yet, hide a tuna-fish sandwich under his seat. Let it rot.”
His big smile is back, even as he side-eyes me. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
“It’s probably best that my parents never had another kid. I’d be a ruthless sibling.”
“Absolutely diabolical.” He stands and walks with his phone toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a sandwich to make.”
We watch each other for a quiet moment. Then he adds, “So, Friday?”
“It’s part of our deal, so it’s not like I can refuse.”
But as we say our goodbyes and hang up, I realize that I don’t even want to.