Saving Everest Page 7

  “Hello?” My vocal cords were dry from sleep.

  “Finally! I’ve be-eee-nn-nnn . . . I’ve calling you for the past ten minutes. I called Burger Hut six times thinking it was your number.” My mother’s laughter cackled into the phone, and I held it away from my ear.

  I struggled to fully open my eyes, yawned, and returned the phone to my ear.

  “I’m calling to tell you that I’m all right, I’m just over Macy’s house. We were celebrating that she got that new job.” Just then I heard Aunt Macy shout in victory, but it resembled more of the scream of a banshee. My mother laughed while Aunt Macy screamed, and I really wanted to hang up the phone. It was pretty evident that they had been drinking. I could practically smell that cheap box-wine smell through the receiver of my phone.

  I glanced at the time and it read midnight.

  “I’m coming home now,” my mom said.

  My eyes snapped open and I was suddenly awake. “No! Stay the night over at her house. I don’t think you should be driving anyway . . .”

  “I haven’t had that much to drink, Beverly,” she tried to assure me, but I wasn’t having it.

  “Nope, I still don’t feel comfortable. Just stay there.”

  “Okay, Ms. Mom,” she laughed. “I’ll be there in the morning.”

  I hung up the phone and lay back. My head thumped on something warm and hard. My neck couldn’t get comfortable, as the pillow wasn’t shaping to fit it. I squirmed and wiggled but it wasn’t getting any better. I reached back to fluff it, but my hand grabbed what felt like a shirt. I gripped the shirt material and felt hard muscle.

  Suddenly, I sat up and turned around to look at what I was feeling, and almost screamed. I was basically feeling up Everest’s stomach. Luckily, he was fast asleep, so I could face this embarrassment in private.

  My hand flew up to my mouth. I’d completely forgotten he was even here.

  I stared down at the sleeping Everest and noticed how he looked grumpy, but, then again, he almost always looked grumpy. Those stubborn wrinkles between his eyebrows looked like they’d made a permanent home.

  Without thinking, I reached over and used my thumb to smooth out a wrinkle. His skin was warm, projecting heat as if attempting to release his frustrations. When I removed my thumb, the wrinkle was gone.

  I observed his face. I noticed how Everest was really attractive when he wasn’t grouchy. I noticed how he had a bit of pizza sauce at the corner of his mouth, and, unthinking, went to wipe it off. Just as my finger touched the corner of his mouth, his eyes fluttered open in confusion. I quickly jumped back.

  “We . . . we must have fallen asleep,” I stuttered, completely embarrassed and trying to move the subject away from the fact that I was being a weirdo.

  Everest sat up and rubbed at his jaw. “I should get going,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

  My eyes were still on the floor. I was unable to look at him as he started to move around. When he stood up, the fort broke, and the blankets engulfed me whole. I didn’t even mind, because I wanted to curl up in a ball anyway.

  He murmured a curse. “I kind of forgot we were in a fort.”

  I moved the blankets from above my head and resurfaced, and watched as Everest did the same, a small smirk playing at his lips.

  “Thank you for tonight, Bev. I haven’t felt like this in a while,” he said.

  I looked at him and noticed how his eyes now looked more green than blue.

  “You’re welcome.” My voice was high pitched, nervous.

  He stood and walked toward the door. “Bye, Bev.”

  “Bye, Ev.”

  When he shut the door, I pulled a nearby pillow over my head and released a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed me being weird.

  Everest wasn’t at school today, but he was there to pick me up when I got out. He wore a green sweater that probably cost more than this month’s rent.

  “What time do you have to be at work today?” he asked.

  “Six thirty. Why?”

  “I was thinking we can hang out?”

  I thought for a second. “Your house?”

  “You sure you can’t think of anything different?”

  “Your house has a home movie theater and an arcade. Plus, you were over at my apartment yesterday and now it’s your turn.”

  “Fine,” he groaned.

  His house awed me just as much as it had when I had first seen it. If I lived somewhere that looked like this, I would never leave. The carpet was so white, I felt like I soiled it just from staring too long.

  “Hola, Miranda. ¿Cómo estás?” Everest greeted a woman standing by the sink rinsing produce. “This is Beverly.”

  “Muy bien, mijo,” Miranda said. Our eyes met and for a moment her features betrayed a flash of surprise before a gentle smile replaced it. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine,” I said without even thinking.

  “You sure? Miranda makes the best grilled cheese.” He stared up at the ceiling, reliving the taste. “I’ll actually take two and a chocolate milk, please.”

  “Of course,” she piped, and went straight to the fridge. “I’ll bring it to you in a moment.”

  We left the kitchen and wandered into the giant game room, which was filled with classic arcade games and a huge screen for watching movies. Everest lay back in a reclining chair and threw his hands behind his head. When he felt me staring at him, he turned his head. “What?”

  “Does she do that every day?” I blurted.

  “What?” Everest asked.

  “Never mind.” I turned back to face the screen, and now it was his turn to burn a hole in my head. As if on cue, Miranda came into the room with a tray holding the things he desired. Something about it felt all wrong to me.

  “You let me know if you change your mind about anything, Beverly,” she said warmly.

  Everest took a bite of his sandwich before turning to stare at me again. “Were you talking about Miranda?”

  Busted.

  “Yeah,” I responded, trying not to meet his eye.

  “She makes other things too. I don’t know a better cook. Taught me everything there is to know about cooking.”

  “Then why couldn’t you make your own grilled cheese?” I should shut up.

  “Two reasons.” He held up his fingers in a peace-sign formation. “One, I can’t make it like her.” He dropped one of his fingers. “And two, my dad pays her for a reason. It’s her job.” He dropped the other finger. “I’ve known Miranda basically all my life. She’s family.”

  I nodded my head and bit my lip, because of course what he said made sense, but it still felt wrong. I didn’t want to get into an argument with Everest about it, through, so I dropped the subject.

  “It bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked after a moment.

  “That’s a privilege that I’ll probably never understand.” I hoped that my words didn’t sound harsh.

  He nodded in response. “It’s my family, it’s not me. And Miranda takes good care of me. It’s not always the warmest environ-

  ment around here.”

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked through the awkward silence.

  “The closest one is upstairs to the left, third door on the right.”

  I walked out of the arcade and up the grand steps. The sun came in from the large windows surrounding the hallway and reflected off the marble floor. Everything about his house was grand—it reminded me more of a museum than a house.

  Once I reached the top, I took the left and immediately forgot which door. I opened the first door on the right, which looked to be a closet. Then I tried the first door on the left, and that was an office. No luck with the second door on the right; it was locked. When I went to open the second door on the left, I was met with a pale-pink room and shocked little girl
looking back at me.

  She was sitting on her bed in front of a mirror and had a brush in her hand. Her large green eyes widened and her small mouth formed an O shape. This was clearly Everest’s little sister.

  “I’m so sorry. I was just looking for the bathroom,” I said, faced by her mix of curiosity and confusion.

  She stayed silent, too shocked and confused to say anything.

  “I can help you with that, you know?” I smiled, and gestured to the braid she was trying to do. “My mother is a hairdresser. She taught me a few things,” I added.

  Looking down at her attempt to make a braid, she nodded slowly. I walked into her room, and noticed that one side of her room had a large mirror with a long bar alongside of it, and there were trophies on shelves everywhere.

  “You must be Everest’s sister. I’m Beverly, a friend of your brother’s,” I said, sitting down on the bed beside her.

  “Hel-lo,” she said.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Hadley,” she responded politely.

  I pointed to the wall with the medals. “What’s all that for?”

  She turned her head and looked at the wall. “I’m a dancer.”

  “You must be really amazing if you have all of those trophies,” I said.

  She tried to hide her smile but failed. “I’m all right.”

  “What kind of dance do you do?”

  “I do jazz, ballet, and tap, but my specialty is contemporary. I actually have a competition this Saturday, and in my solo I’m supposed to be, like, this warrior-ninja-princess, and I can’t fit my hair into a cool braid.”

  I looked at her as if asking for permission before getting up and sitting behind her and gripping her hair. I thought a fishtail braid would be the cool braid that she was looking for. I took the soft, long strands in my hands and put them in that style.

  “How do you know Everest?” she asked quietly.

  “He goes to my school.” I said, “Although he’s really grouchy sometimes, your brother is pretty special.”

  “He’s special all right,” she spoke slyly.

  “C’mon, he’s still your brother. Imagine if people treated you the way they treat him now,” I spoke softly but reassuringly.

  “He doesn’t care about me anyway.” She looked down at her lap.

  “I don’t think that’s true. He may act like he doesn’t care about anything, but I know he does. He cares a whole lot.”

  She stayed quiet while I braided her hair.

  “All done,” I said.

  “That’s so cool!” she said, astonished, lightly touching the braid. “How did you do that?”

  “Like I said, my mom’s a hairdresser.”

  “That would explain your hair. It’s really pretty,” Hadley said.

  I smiled. “Thank you, Hadley. I think you’re really pretty.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. You’re going to be a heartbreaker. I can help you anytime with your hair if you’d like,” I offered as I stood up from her bed, remembering that Everest was probably wondering if I’d fallen in the toilet.

  “I’d like that,” she said as I walked out of her room and closed the door behind me. “Wait, Beverly!”

  I reopened her door. “Yeah?”

  “The bathroom is the third door on the right,” she laughed.

  “Thanks.”

  I’d almost forgotten I had to pee.

  16

  Everest

  Confession: I am still learning to be the best man I can be and that’s okay.

  —EF, August 26, 2010

  I sat on the stool and flicked through the small laminated booklet for the rehab center. People on their backs lying on grass and smiling at the sun—the sunshine miraculously not burning their eyes; pages filled with large smiles and flowers everywhere.

  It all seemed so generic and fake, and I was so sick of being around fake. I wanted real. The people who have always been around me always wanted something—me to throw a football, or for my connections. They never wanted to just know me.

  The front door opened, and my family came back from Hadley’s event. My father was talking on his phone and my mother had her arm around Hadley, who was grinning ear to ear, holding a large trophy in her hand.

  “Look, Everest, your sister won first place overall.” My mother’s grin was almost bigger than Hadley’s.

  “It’s about time someone brought another trophy into this house,” my father said under his breath. He couldn’t help himself.

  They all entered the kitchen and I slowly put the pamphlet in my pocket. “It’s Saturday night, are you not going to go out?” my mother asked.

  I shrugged. I didn’t feel like going anywhere tonight. Because I’d been out so much, I thought my mom would be happy that I was staying in, but she actually looked disappointed.

  “Your hair is starting to mess up and it looked so pretty tonight,” my mother said to Hadley, grabbing her by the arm and trying to fix it. “How did you even do it?”

  My mom tried to make sense of the intricate braid.

  I wasn’t really close with my sister, but from the moment she arrived, I always felt the need to protect her from the bad in this world. It was unfortunate that I ended up turning into the bad. When my mom told me she was pregnant, I was so happy. My young mind of seven realized that I wasn’t going to be alone anymore—that the adults won’t just shove a toy in my face and tell me to go in my room. But when she came, she looked so pretty and fragile that I was afraid to even breathe hard around her. After Hadley came, the already small amount of attention my family gave me diminished almost completely. I didn’t resent her, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.

  The more I stared into her eyes, the more I felt ashamed of myself.

  “Someone did it for me.” Hadley looked at me when she said that—she never looked at me; every time we made eye contact, she looked away.

  “Who?” my mother asked, looking confused.

  “Beverly,” her soft voice stated, and I immediately popped my head up.

  I hadn’t talked to Beverly since she came over my house. She’d been busy with work and I simply didn’t want to go to school. I texted her last night, but she only responded by saying she’d text me back, but she hadn’t. I’d been trying not to think about it, but now her name was even coming out of the mouth of my little sister.

  “Who’s that?” My mother stared down at Hadley with a bit of scrutiny.

  I was just as weary as my mother was, sure this might be some kind of coincidence, but something told me that it wasn’t. I silently hoped that we weren’t talking about my Beverly. My family wasn’t something that I would connote with happiness and light—Beverly was nothing but good vibes, and my family was nothing but negative vibes. I couldn’t have those two come together.

  “Everest’s friend?” Her voice wavered.

  My father straightened his tie. “I don’t remember a Beverly.”

  As if he showed enough interest in my personal life to notice who was in it and who wasn’t.

  “Everest, you should invite her to dinner tomorrow,” my mother suggested, and I wanted to sink farther and farther down into the stool.

  Sunday dinners hadn’t been the same for a long time. The only things that came from that dining room now were the pangs of metal meeting glass, judgmental eyes, and blueberry pie.

  “We aren’t really friends, and plus I don’t think she would be able to make it,” I lied, praying they’d believe me.

  “That’s a shame.”

  My mom seemed to believe the fib.

  “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t have any friends left.” My father spoke under his breath, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  Something inside of me snapped. He pushed and pushed, always knowing the
effect his words had on me. I saw he was making an effort to not make his snide comments so loudly, but just because he didn’t say them loudly didn’t mean I didn’t hear them.

  “Actually,” I began as my inner self shouted for me to stay quiet, “we aren’t just friends, we’re actually best friends. I just remembered that she’s off work tomorrow, so she should be able to come.”

  “Best friends?” My father quirked his eyebrow up at me.

  “She’s been there for me more than anyone else has, so she qualifies as the best,” I shot back, the pamphlet crumpling in my pocket.

  The next day I drove to over Beverly’s apartment. I probably should have called, but she hadn’t been responding. I’d been acting pretty impulsively lately; maybe it was because thinking too much killed. It killed hopes, it killed dreams, it even almost killed me.

  I knocked on her door, not even sure if I was doing the right thing. I hadn’t heard from her since Friday, and I wasn’t going to lie and say that it sat well with me. Beverly had made her way into my life. It was kind of too late for her to try and leave now.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked when she opened the door. That really wasn’t the reaction I was expecting, but I didn’t let my face show it.

  “Hello to you too,” I said sarcastically. Her extremely curly hair was piled high into a bun, and she wore my gray hoodie. She looked embarrassed before awkwardly staring at my shoes. I looked at the ground, focusing on the dead plants in the ceramic pot by her front door.

  “So are you going to let me in?” I mumbled to the plants.

  “Am I supposed to?” An ant climbed through the ruins of the dead plant.

  “Yes. I mean . . . it’s up to you.” I finally looked into the brown eyes staring back at me.

  Beverly closed the door behind us, and I made my way to her room and sat on her purple comforter, staring at the many posters on her bedroom wall.

  “It’s been a while . . .” she drew out, sitting on top of a desk.

  “Yeah, why is that?” I asked.

  She looked out the window and shrugged. “I’m new to this whole friend thing. I’ve lived here my whole life, and the closest thing I’ve gotten to friendship is playing with Manny. I don’t want to mess this up, you know? I don’t want you to get sick of me, so I gave you space.” She fidgeted with the strings on my hoodie. I’d been meaning to get that thing back.