Paula Stokes - The Art of Lainey

Micah nods slowly. “I know what you’re saying. I guess I’m just wondering how we know when to give up and move on.”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I’m not ready to quit fighting.”

I dream the same dream all night. It’s the first day of senior year. I’m at my locker when the lights fade and rock music starts to pulse from the intercom speakers. Micah appears in front of me, out of nowhere. He reaches out to touch my hair but it feels all wrong, like an alien has taken over his body. And then I notice he’s wearing Jason’s soccer uniform. I push him away and he floats backward across the hall. Two girls dressed all in black look up from where they’re seated cross-legged on the floor, no doubt copying each other’s homework. Ebony and Amber. Neither of them even go to Hazelton High, but you can’t argue with a dream. Ebony pulls a plastic-looking gun from her purse and points it at me. I recoil backward against my locker as a teal paintball explodes across my chest. “Matches your streak,” Ebony says. She, Amber, and Micah all start to melt into the wall behind them. As they disappear, the lights come back and the music fades. I’m standing in the hallway all alone, covered in paint.

Not real, I tell myself, but the dream starts again. And again. It’s on infinite repeat and no matter what I do, I can’t find my way out of the loop.

Until my phone chimes with a message.

I sit up, relieved to be in my room, relieved not to be covered in teal paint. The previous night plays in my head like a song. The concert. The swirly blue lights. The almost irresistible urge to throw myself at Micah.

And then the dream.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I check my phone to see who saved me. Bianca—of course.

She texts: Did you survive the night?

Me: Yeah.

Her: Yeah? That’s all you have to say?

I pause, then type out:

Have you ever liked someone who was totally wrong for you?

My thumb hovers over the CANCEL button. I reread the text a few times and finally press SEND. I need Bee’s help. Even if she’s never felt attracted to someone completely crazy, she’ll be able to help me make sense of it all.

Her: What do you mean?

I start texting her back and then cancel the message and call her instead. “It’s Micah,” I blurt out, as soon as she picks up. “I can’t stop thinking about him. I even dreamed about him. It’s freaking me out.”

“Oh,” she says. “That’s . . . surprising. You want to go for a run and talk about it?”

“Yes.” Perfect. Between Bianca’s cool head and the calming influence of a good, long run, I can get a handle on these runaway feelings before they mess up the whole plan.

We do our usual loop through town and collapse under the oak tree at the park across from my house. “So you actually wanted to kiss him?” Bee’s pupils dilate as she waits for my reply.

“Ohmygod.” My heart is racing and my face feels hot. I don’t know if it’s from our run or from thinking about last night. “It was more than wanting. I was, like, possessed. I had to get out of there or I would have attacked him right there in the club.” I roll over on my side to look at her. “Honestly, I sort of kissed him on the cheek.”

“What?” Bee gasps.

“I don’t know. He looked sad. It felt like the thing to do. And before you ask: no, I wasn’t drunk. I had one beer.” I cover my face with my hands for a moment. “What is wrong with me?”

“Well, do you like him?” Bee blots her forehead on her sleeve. She reaches up to catch a leaf that’s fluttering in the air above her.

“You mean like him, like him?” My bangs are drenched with sweat. I push them back out of my face, feeling the sting of sunscreen as it makes its way into the corner of my eyes. “I guess he’s cool and all but I don’t really know him.” I’m kind of dodging the question. Do I like him? When I asked him to be my fake boyfriend that didn’t even seem like a possibility.

“So you’re just physically attracted to him?”

“I guess so,” I say. “Dude, that sounds so bizarro. I’m into athletes, you know? Like Jason and Caleb Waters. Micah is the total opposite of what I always thought I wanted.”

“But,” Bee prompts after a few seconds of silence.

“Okay, sure, he’s funny,” I continue. “And he’s got great eyes and a nice smile when he busts it out.” I exhale deeply. “And he might have said I was cute.”

Bee makes a squeaking sound.

I keep talking. “But still. Micah and I have nothing in common. The whole universe would probably spin out of alignment if we started dating for real. I mean, what would we even do together?”

“I can think of one or two things,” she teases.

“Stop it, Bianca. I mean what would we do besides that?” I see Micah’s barely parted lips in my head. The ridge of muscle. The gleam of sweat. “And now I’m thinking about it. Please fix me.”

“Maybe it’s just a bad-boy thing,” she offers. “Didn’t he get arrested last year?”

“Yeah. But since when do I have a bad-boy fetish?”

“You’re kidding, right? Jason is a bad-boy poster child. Cheats on tests. Skips class whenever he wants as long as it’s not soccer season.” She pauses. “Gets caught with weed in his locker?”

Okay, so maybe Jason is a little rough around the edges, but it makes him more interesting than someone who follows all the rules. “You think that’s all it is?” I ask hopefully. “I’m just attracted to parts of Micah that remind me of Jay?” It’s a struggle to wrap my head around the idea of them having anything in common.

“Or maybe you’re still feeling bad about the breakup and this is a way to feel better about things,” Bee says. “Maybe you’re lonely and you just want to be with someone.”

“What? Like that old song? If you can’t be with the one you love?”

“Then love the one you’re with,” she finishes. “They wouldn’t write songs about stuff if it wasn’t a universal experience.” She looks over at me. “Or maybe this is just about winning. What does Micah’s ex-girlfriend look like?”

“She gorgeous,” I admit. “Stylish. Cool. Some kind of musical virtuoso. She even seemed nice.”

“So maybe you don’t want Micah, but you don’t want her to have him either?”

I cover my face with my hands again. “I am the worst battle partner ever.”

Bianca pats me on the shoulder. “Here’s the only thing that matters. Let’s say you act on this impulse with Micah and it works out—”

“There’s no way.” I peek through my fingers as I cut her off. “Can you imagine what everyone at school would say? What Kendall would say?” It sounds lame, like I care what everyone else thinks. But the reality is that everyone cares about what some people think.

Bee snaps her fingers in my face. “Forget them all for a second. Let’s say it would work out. If Jason decided he wanted you back once you were with Micah, would you go back to him?”

It only takes me a few seconds to respond. “Yeah.”

Bianca nods to herself. I don’t know why I was expecting her disappointed look. Maybe because it seems like I gave the wrong answer. But that’s crazy. Why am I lying here feeling bad about potentially blowing off a guy I’m not even dating who doesn’t even like me?

“That’s what I thought,” Bee says. “So don’t mess with him just because you’re lonely. He deserves better than that.”

First Leo. Now Bianca. Everyone is so sure I’m going to steal Micah’s heart and then trample it. “You’re right.” I think of Kendall and her “fan club members,” her so-called “slumming phase.” “I don’t want to use a guy I’m not interested in just to feel better about myself.”

“Are you sure you still want Jason?” Bianca asks. “Maybe this is your brain’s way of telling you there are other guys out there.”

“I think this is my brain’s way of panicking because our plan isn’t working,” I say. “I want Jason. No one else fits with me like him.”

“Why are you so sure of that?”

“I don’t know. Being with him always made me happy. We could talk about anything. Laugh about anything. He always made me feel like I could be me.” I look up at the giant tree’s leafy branches. A few leaves are starting to morph from bright green to yellowish even though it’s only the end of June.

“Really? Isn’t he the one who told you to get a tan? That doesn’t sound like letting you be you.”

I frown. “It’s not like he forced me or anything. He just said I looked better with more color.”

Bee snorts. “And also with stick-straight hair?”

“Bianca,” I say, shocked. “Be fair. Jason never cared about my hair. Kendall was the one who got me started flat-ironing.” I pet my sleek ponytail. “And she was right. It looks way better straight.”

“It looks fine either way. If anyone needs flat-ironing, it’s me.”

I shake my head. “No way, I love your monster waves.”

Bee looks serious. “All I’m saying is, those things you think you can only get from Jason. Maybe you can get all of them and more from other guys.”

I reach out and give her hand a squeeze. “I know you’re trying to help,” I say. “But my heart wants what it wants, even if it doesn’t make sense. Don’t give up on me, Bee. I can’t do this without you.”

“I would never quit on you,” she says. “But there’s nothing wrong with you deciding to quit, all right?”