Mom poured uneaten green beans into a container and put them on a shelf in the fridge, where we would undoubtedly ignore them until they went bad. "Why don't you try to talk to her about it?"
After I finished loading the dishwasher, I went up to Adrian's room. She was sprawled out on her bed painting her toenails black, intent on ignoring me. I walked over to her CD player, turned down the music so she could hear me, and in my most sensitive voice, I asked her how she was doing. Then I gave her the "There-are-other-fish-in-the sea" pep talk, followed by the "I'11-help-you-go-fishing" pep talk.
She looked at me in stony silence for a moment then said, "First of all, you don't understand anything about Rick. Second, you don't understand how I feel. You've never lost anyone you've cared about because you don't really care about guys. They're all just one more picture to make your my space look like you've got an online hot-guy fan club. Mike, by the way, was a total flake."
And Rick wasn't? This was a little like the Corn Flakes insulting the Wheaties.
"Third," Adrian said, "I wouldn't trust you where guys are concerned, anyway. You'd set me up with someone and then decide you wanted him yourself."
That stung, but I should have expected it. It was the one card Adrian pulled out any time she wanted to trump whatever I said and show me what a horrible person I was.
You see, there was this thing about a year ago. . . . No, it's been longer than that. It happened during the end of my sophomore year; it just seems more recent because the memory hasn't faded.
When had Adrian started to like Travis Woods? I couldn't remember. Sometime in elementary school. She used to watch out our living room window for him every morning so we could time our walk to school with his. I thought it was cute, sweet, even if I didn't know what she saw in him. To me, Travis was just another slightly annoying boy in my class.
It wasn't like Adrian sat around pining for him when he didn't notice her. By seventh grade she had rotating crushes. But even then Travis was always in the background of her thoughts. He grew six inches and filled out into a good-looking guy, which goes to show you that Adrian has an eye for potential. I didn't blame her anymore for liking him. A lot of girls liked him.
When she came to see all of the freshman football games, I knew it wasn't to watch me cheer. Her eyes were glued on number 96. When we ran into each other in the neighborhood, she always complimented him on whatever pass, tackle, or interception he'd made. He thanked her with this quirky smile, like he didn't deserve the hero worship, but appreciated it anyway.
The next year when I put together that sophomore biology study group, I did it with Adrian in mind. Travis would be there. Granted, I knew nothing would happen between them. I mean, let's face it, no self-respecting sophomore guy hits on an eighth-grade girl, but we were laying the groundwork for her freshman year, just a few short months away.
During every study group, Adrian hung around, finding ways to linger near Travis. Often she lingered too long and said stupid things. I tried to coach her on the delicate balance between letting a guy know you're interested and trapping him on the couch with stories of your PE flag football adventures, but she wouldn't listen to me. Apparently I no longer knew what I was talking about. In her mind she had already made the jump to high school, and she didn't need me to navigate her course.
I could see Travis mentally labeling her as an annoyance, a groupie. He pulled away from her, cut her out of the conversation. The harder I tried to convince Adrian to ease up, the harder she tried to get his attention. She actually asked him about his summer schedule and then tried to invite herself to some of his activities.
Which was pretty much the kiss of death. She'd killed her chances and didn't even know it.
After our last study group ended, Travis left, then came back five minutes later. He'd forgotten his notes. Adrian had gone to her room and I was in the middle of cleaning up soda cans and half-empty bowls of popcorn. He picked up his notes then helped me take dishes into the kitchen.
We'd left a few things out in the living room, but I felt bad making him clean. "I can get the rest," I said.
"No, I'll get it," he said, then paused a foot away from me. "Is Adrian around?"
I sent him an apologetic smile. "She's in her room. You're safe."
He laughed, the kind of laughter which is actually gratitude that someone understands. "She's a nice girl and everything, but . . ."
"I know. She comes on a little too strong."
He stepped closer to me and spoke softly, to make sure our voices didn't carry. "I don't want to hurt her feelings, but I don't know what to say to her. Isn't there someone her own age she's interested in?"
"Yes," I said even though it was a lie. I didn't want to make my sister sound like a stalker. "She likes a couple of guys in her class, it's just that when you're around she can't help but flirt with you. Consider it a compliment. You're irresistible."
He laughed again, and I noticed how his eyes lit up when he smiled. His sandy blond hair was mussed up in a way that made you want to run your hands through it. "Yeah," he said without an ounce of belief in his tone. "I wish I had that effect on women."
"You do. In fact, I bet you have entire eighth-grade blogs dedicated to the twinkles in your eyes."
He took another step closer to me. I should have turned away from him then, but I didn't. I stayed there, leaning against my kitchen counter smiling at him. This is how it's done, I wanted to tell Adrian. See how easy it is? I still know more about flirting with guys than you do.
He looked down at me mischievously. "If only women my own age felt that way about me."
"Who says they don't?"
He bent down slowly. I could have moved away, but instead I closed my eyes and let him kiss me.
It only lasted a minute. Just long enough for the thrill of being right to wear off. With his lips still on mine, I thought, What am I going to do now? How am I going to explain this to Adrian? But I knew I wouldn't explain. I'd hide it and never let her know what I'd done.
And then I heard Adrian gasp. I pushed away from Travis and saw her standing in the kitchen entryway. Her mouth hung open in shock and her eyes looked wide and frightened. Frightened, not hurt. I didn't understand that back then, but I think I do now.
Fear is what you feel when the person who's always protected you slices through your heart. The world is no longer a safe place; it's one where anyone can turn on you.
Adrian spun around and dashed back to her room, leaving a wake of silence in the kitchen. Travis ran his hand through his hair. " I 'm sorry. I guess I'd better go."
He departed almost as quickly as Adrian had, and then I was left standing there with a horrible, empty feeling pounding in my chest.
I tried to talk to Adrian. I apologized to her over and over. I told her I'd never see Travis again. It didn't matter. I didn't have any good reasons for what I'd done, and saying, "It just happened," was perhaps worse in the end.
"It just happened" became Adrian's new excuse for everything. Her tongue piercing just happened. Her grades dropping just happened. Her black wardrobe just happened.
Every time she said it, she told me everything was my fault. And from that day forward she reconstructed herself into someone who was the exact opposite of me.