Page 3 of Go Find Less
It was a photo. That’s it, just a photo. But it’s a photo of Andy, his arm slung over Jessica, both of them smiling at the camera in front of a fireplace, clearly about to head out on a date. The photo accompanied a status.
Andy MartinisIn a RelationshipwithJessica Alverado
Andy and Jessica.
Andy, who was seated two rows away from me.
Andy, who lived down the street from me.
Andy, who, not not 48 hours before, I’d hooked up with while his parents watched TV downstairs, none the wiser.
Slowly, I turned to look at him. His buzz cut was covered by a backwards baseball cap. He leaned forward, talking excitedly with Fitz, his best friend, who was twisted around in his chair to listen, same stoic expression as always plastered on his face. Andy’s baseball gear sat next to his desk, piled high before practice the next period.
Before I reacted in front of everyone, I turned to the front and raised my hand. Mrs. Calhoun looked up from her computer and eyed me.
“Can I please use the restroom?” I asked quietly. She narrowed her eyes. I’d only been in her class a few weeks, but my volume was never this low. It was probably suspicious. After a second, she nodded toward the door, signaling me to go. I could feel eyes on my back - probably Alex’s - as I walked out as quickly as possible, my heels clicking against the tile as I hurried down the hall.
I found a corner in the back stairwell and slid down the cold wall, gripping my shaking hands together around my knees and putting my head down.
I knew getting involved with Andy was a bad idea from the beginning. My gut, and Alex, told me that it would end poorly. Andy had a reputation as a fuckboy long before I considered even thinking about him, but the slightest interest he showed made some insecure part of me satiated.
Until junior year, I was the token good girl. While Alex, Maria, and our other girlfriends snuck alcohol from their parents’ liquor cabinets and downed shots, refilling the bottles with water before they noticed, I kept watch. I was the constant alibi, the nerdy best friend, Never Been Kissed in real life. Jonas Brothers level purity ring wearing, save myself for marriage like my Catholic upbringing told me to, blushed at the whisper of a penis, good girl.
Subtract braces, add hair extensions, learn how to work a sewing machine and suddenly I had more confidence than I’d ever experienced. It was subtle at first, but I found my footing, and even got my first kiss. Then, I went zero to 100 real fast, in true, Piper Delmonico fashion.
I was noticed. Not necessarily at school - no, these people have known me since I was 5. I hadn’t ugly-ducklinged that hard. But while they were out using fake IDs to get into sweaty, strip-mall clubs, I found a place with my older sister’s friends, going to drag races and stealing the jackets - and attention - of guys I’d had crushes on for years. In a matter of months I had my first boyfriend, one of Penny’s friends, and very quickly rounded all the bases. Sex became my one vice, and I fell into it hard.
Andy, recently single from his long-term girlfriend, Jessica, overheard Alex, Maria, Vic, and me discussing my latest adventures - something I was still getting used to, as typically, it was the other way around. He was shocked to find that gone was the good girl. Secretly, anyways.
And then began a conversation that has repeated time and time again in my life. Casual discussion turned into a game of 20 Questions (men think they’re so fucking clever), which turned dirty real fast, which turned into his asking when we could try some of the things we’d talked about in real life.
The summer passed by in a flurry of clandestine meetings and sneaking into his house late at night. We both knew it wasn’t going anywhere serious - I still maintained my good girl image, if not for my own personal security, than the security of the privileges that reputation had earned me, with teachers, with my parents, with some students. And Andy, for all his attention in the times we met up, wasn’t about to be seen with me in public.
Andy Martin, showing affection to a girl that notoriously wouldn’t put out? Never.
But there I was, getting the thrill of having someone, anyone, who’d known me this long, looking at me the way he did when we were in bed together, like I was too sexy to stop looking at, made that little insecure piece of me so, so happy.
It’s your own fault.
I stared down at my shoes - a pair of nude block heels, the sides of which I’d painted with red and green flowers. Very Lilly Pulitzer.
I hadn’t expected him to stay single. Ihadexpected him to tell me when he was seeing someone else, so I wasn’t the side piece.
My head flew up as I heard a pair of heavy shoes rounding the corner into the stairwell, and to my utter horror, Jessica came into view, her dark brows knit together in worry. She saw me, and her eyes widened.
“Oh, shit,” I stuttered, wiping at my eyes to catch the tears that were about to fall. Jessica raced over to where I sat and kneeled in front of me, her hand reaching out to touch my arm.
“Are you ok? I saw you come this way, you looked upset.”
“I, uh.” I continued to struggle for words as I looked up into her big brown eyes.
She looked happy. Why wouldn’t she be? She was back with her boyfriend, back to being the it-couple they’ve been, off and on, since the 8th grade.
But looking into those eyes, seeing that happiness, something snapped. Not at her. But at Andy. I knew what I was getting myself into, but Jessica, she was innocent in all this. And she deserved to know.
“I’ve been seeing Andy.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and instinctively, I bit my lips together before I could blurt anything else out. Her head shot back, and she seemed momentarily startled. Her eyes searched my face, probably waiting for me to yell “gotcha!” But when it didn’t come, she sat back on her heels.
“For how long?”
