Chapter Twenty-Two #2
She cocks her head to the side. “Your name sounds familiar. Do I know you?” Jason doesn’t hide the fact that he’s pleased about this.
He’s not hiding the fact that he’s pleased by any of it.
And I’m speechless watching the interaction.
I’ve seen Jason with dozens of girls in my presence.
But right now, he is not reacting with the level of indifference that has always made me feel safe, made me feel like I didn’t have to compete with every girl on the planet.
“Maybe you do,” he says, with those dimples that very rarely come out. “Though I’d remember you if we’d met.”
“No, seriously, why does your name sound so familiar?” she asks. If I had to bet, I’d say she’s never heard of him in her life.
“Maybe we should go,” Marcus says, and I almost consider agreeing. I don’t want to watch my boyfriend flirting with some girl while I’m mere yards away. But my feet are rooted in place, a dozen branches starting to stem out from them. I can’t just go now, after all these weeks of wanting answers.
“I play soccer,” Jason says matter-of-factly. “That’s probably it.”
The girl twirls one of her curls with her hand, a signature move from all the movie versions of Hot Girl Flirting. “I like soccer players,” she says. “My ex-boyfriend played soccer.”
Jason grins. “Your ex, huh?” He leans toward her, drops his voice a little lower. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’re single?”
I’m stunned by how good Jason is at this.
He is effortlessly charming. Having experienced it myself, I know flirting comes easily to Jason.
Last September, even in the worst season of my life, I noticed him.
Or rather, he noticed me. He was warm and comforting and funny when those were exactly the things I needed.
The girl beams. “So what if it is?”
“Listen,” Marcus starts to say, touching my shoulder. “We both know Jay is a flirt. I really don’t think—”
“Marcus, just leave it.” I don’t snap when I say it, but it still feels harsh in the air.
Marcus clears his throat. “Yep. Sure.”
“Noted,” Jay says now, “but I have a girlfriend.”
The resignation he says it with is slight, but it still hurts. It feels like a slap in the face.
“I don’t see her anywhere,” the girl says, taking a step even closer to Jason.
He laughs and glances back toward where I’ve gone, probably realizing I’ll be back any second. “You’re kind of a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
She smiles and finally, finally takes a step back. “If you’re sure about that girlfriend, at least give me something to remember you by.”
For a second, I’m terrified it’s going to be a kiss, and my heart starts beating impossibly fast. But the girl says, “I want the bear, but I’ll settle for your number.”
Jason chuckles, shakes his head. “It’s like that, huh?”
He glances over his shoulder once more before reciting the number I know by heart. The girl puts it in her phone, and then Jason’s phone vibrates loudly. He pulls it out and reads the screen.
“Nice to meet you too, Alana Duncan.”
She gives him one more flirtatious smile, then she turns around and is gone.
Just in time for Other Zadie to wander back. The radiance she always has in these dreams is dulled. It is my worst nightmare: I look somehow…insufficient. Not bubbly or cute or anything enough.
“Oh no, what did I miss? The lines were endless,” Zadie says, and I can see her eye makeup is less smudged, a new layer of lipstick applied. It feels like she’s been gone an eternity, but it probably hasn’t been up to five minutes.
“Not much,” Jason says modestly as he hands the bear over to her.
“I just won this.” It’s taller than Zadie.
She awws and leans forward to kiss him, and I feel like the dumbest person on the planet.
Not only did Jason just lie to me, but he had a full-on reciprocal flirting match with a really pretty stranger.
He acted like what Coach Feathers said was completely fine.
And here is Past Zadie feeling bright and confident, lucky to be with him.
“I can’t keep watching,” I murmur, ready to turn my back on the two of them and wander away. Something stops me, though.
A song is playing. It’s “Everyday People” by Sly and the Family Stone, and it instantly sends me back to that memory of running through the supermarket with Dad.
I hadn’t even known there was a song attached to that memory, but the connection is so clear in my head that I’m winded.
A memory is so much more than a picture in our minds.
Past Zadie freezes for a second at the song, but then she dismisses it. Doesn’t make the link in her mind.
But I do. I know this song.
It is suddenly so overwhelming. Coach Feathers, the ways Jason has let me down today, the grief.
I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“My dad,” I whisper, and Marcus finds my hand and squeezes.
I’m feeling so many things at once.
I want to go back to that afternoon. To the fun and lightness that I would only ever experience before Dad was gone. I want to choose not to leave him in the canned food aisle, but I still feel the judgment of other eyes.
I feel the utter shame of Jason lying to me, giving some girl his number as he organizes date after date with me.
“Maybe it’s her,” I whisper to Marcus, and even without context, even without explaining what I’m talking about, I know he understands. We have been through so many memories and dreams together. “Or me, I guess. It’s me.”
Somehow, no matter how hard I’ve tried to be good and attractive and smart and funny, to keep it tidy, I have failed. I am not enough.
Marcus curses. “It’s not you,” he says. “This is all him. It’s all Jason.”
I feel desperately sad, and then Marcus reaches out and pulls me to himself. He smells clean and cottony. I feel safe in Marcus’s arms, and I’d like to stay there for hours, just standing with him, having him hold me.
But as usual, the dream gods have their own plans, and even right there in each other’s arms, Marcus and I start losing each other.
His face blurs, his torso becomes air. Over my shoulder, Jason and the other Zadie are walking, leaving through the gate they came in from, while Marcus and I are disappearing, fighting an unseeable force, being sucked into the tornado of the real world.