Chapter Seven

Mackenzie was sitting in the school cafeteria and saw Frankie walk in, looking for her. Mac looked down hoping she wouldn’t find her in the crowd. Over the last three weeks it had become obvious that Frankie just didn’t understand what a broken heart felt like.

Mac just wanted to avoid more of her nagging and not have to explain every little thing. No such luck.

“I see you’re sitting with your new best friends, chocolate, grease and sugar,” Frankie said as she dumped her backpack on the floor. When Mac didn’t reply, Frankie leaned over the table and placed both hands on Mackenzie’s shoulders. “Dude, I am attempting to make contact with the alien who has taken over the body and soul of Mackenzie Douglas. Are you in there, Alien One?”

Mackenzie looked up, her eyes glazed and tired. If she could explain to Frankie how out-of-control she felt when she and Grady were going over the edge … like she was falling through space … like she was going to hit the pavement and splatter, maybe Frankie would understand.

But how could Frankie understand if I don’t get it myself?

Mac barely had enough energy to ignore it, let alone explain it aloud to her best friend.

Her skin had turned a dull shade of grey, interrupted by patches of florid zits. Her hair hung in greasy clumps. She shook her head. “I can’t, Franks.” She stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth. She barely chewed them before reaching for the brownie on the paper plate in front of her.

Frankie said, “You’ve certainly covered all my favorite food groups…fried, sugared, and uh, fried.” She fingered a bag of Fritos. “Your chopsticks still on vacation? I ask again, who are you, and what’ve you done with Mac?”

No response, no smile. “How ‘bout Skater?”

“Cut it out, Frankie. I just need time to deal.” Or, if she ignored it long enough, maybe it would just go away.

“Time? How long since you ate anything green?”

“I had some green M&Ms for breakfast this morning.”

“Oh, wait! That sounds familiar…was that a joke?” Frankie sighed and leaned forward. “Mac, at the risk of sounding like my mother, you need some veggies. You have to keep up your training. How’re you going to manage the trip?”

Mackenzie stopped eating and looked at Frankie like she’d never heard of the trip, then shoved another bite in her mouth and looked down again.

Frankie said, “C’mon, you’re not surprised that that’s all he wanted, right? And if that’s the case, who needs him anyway?”

“I thought he was different. And I did believe he loved me. And if he loved me, why couldn’t he just wait?”

Frankie asked, “You know what he’s thinking. If you loved him, why couldn’t you just blow him?”

“What was that?” Charlie said as he put his tray down next to Mac’s. “Sounds like an interesting conversation if you ask me.”

“No one did,” Frankie said. She waved at him. “Buh-bye, now.”

Instead of leaving, he turned to Mackenzie and surveyed her lunch. “Oh yeah, I can see you’re way over that goofball swimmer. It’s so sad about your RC though. You’re going to crush that fine instrument under that big butt you’re growing.”

“You are such an asshole, Charlie. Anyone ever tell you that?” Frankie reached over and pushed his lunch away.

Charlie hooked his finger over the edge of the tray and pulled it back. “Actually, dad says it every day, right after he kisses me good morning.” Turning back to Mac, he said, “You know, if you don’t want the bike, I’m happy to take it off your hands. I’ll still fit on it.”

“Yeah, cause you’re a shrimp,” Frankie said.

“I may be slight, but it’s all muscle, baby.” He pulled the fabric of his sleeve tight and flexed. “So how about it, Skater? Want to sell me the RC? You obviously have lost your joy dee viver.”

Mackenzie looked at Charlie. “What are you talking about?”

“Sell me your bike when it comes in so you don’t lose your deposit. C’mon, I’ll take it off your hand for, say, $700 cash.”

Mackenzie smiled.

Frankie said, “That’s less than the deposit, you idiot. But thanks, Charlie—hard to believe that you’d be the first person to get Mac to smile in three weeks.”

As Mac and Frankie walked away from the table, Charlie called after them, “Hey, Mac! I’m still the size you used to be—I’ll fit on that ride. Remember, I’ve got the cash if you eat the trash!”

* * *

Mackenzie lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Just the thought of extracting herself from the covers exhausted her and she heaved a deep sigh. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to deal. Finally, she dragged herself out of bed and sat on the edge, shoulders slumped. Tugged at the bottom of her tank top but it just rode up again. Tried to comb her fingers through her hair, but when she hit the first tangle, gave up.

I’ll look like Frankie with the dreads, I keep this up, she thought. She leaned down to the pile of clothes on the floor and picked up the jeans she’d worn all week, lacking the energy to care about clean laundry. Holding her breath, Mac snapped the top button. She looked at the make-up and perfume scattered across the vanity, and ran her finger along the top of a compact. A line appeared in the dust.

She pulled a frayed long-sleeved tee over her head, tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ears, and went to the kitchen for some breakfast. Barb was still in her robe, and was yawning as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, honey. You want some?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out a second mug and filled it. She reached into the fridge for the non-fat non-dairy creamer and handed it to Mac.

Mac took it and put it back in the refrigerator without a word, grabbed the carton of cream and tilted into her coffee until it was a pale shade of beige. Or a dark shade of white.

Barb stood motionless, her mouth open in surprise as Mac next went for the sugar bowl and dumped in three heaping tablespoons. “Cream? And sugar? Apparently, I’ve been working longer hours than I thought. Since when do you ingest anything white?”

“Do you mind?” Mac took a long, deep gulp. “How late did you get in last night anyway? You look like crap.”

“Boy, Mac, which side of the bed did you fall out of this morning?” Barb said, obviously containing her anger. “You want to try again?”

“Sorry. You look tired is all I meant.”

Barb sat at the kitchen table and unfolded the paper with a snap. “It was too late and I shouldn’t have taken my pill, but I was afraid I wouldn’t get any sleep at all if I didn’t. I swear,” she said, smoothing out the deep crease in the center section. “This job would be perfect if it weren’t for all the stress.”

Lily bounced into the kitchen, awake the moment her eyes shot open. “Look! I’m just like Tigger! Because I’m bouncing. Tiggers bounce, did you know that, Kenzie?” She bounced right into Mac, making her spill coffee on her shirt.

“Jesus, Lily! Do you have to be so unbelievably obnoxious first thing in the morning?” She was sorry she snapped at her sister the minute she did it. Before she could apologize, Barb leapt from her chair and scooped Lily into her arms.

“Get it together, Mac.”

Barb sat back down, Lily on her lap, her head buried in her mother’s neck. She wasn’t used to Mac losing it on her and she clung to her mother like a baby koala who just saw a growling dingo. Barb stroked her back, all the while patting and cooing. She didn’t look up from their cuddle fest but managed to wave her hand in the direction of the corner desk. “And take that envelope over there. It was leaning against the front door when I got in.”

Mac went and picked it up. Turning it over, she saw the RoadCap logo and under it, Frankie’s handwriting.

This ought to get rid of that alien … see you soon … xxxooo F.

Mackenzie sloshed back the drops still left in her cup and said, “I gotta go.”