monday, feb 8
The door opens and the first thing Mona says is “I don’t think I can do tonight. I’ve got a sorta-kinda date.”
“What?” I gasp. “Mona Lieber is going on a date? Oh God, where are the flying pigs?”
She glares at me. “I appreciate the support, but I really have to start getting ready.”
“Who is it?” I ask. “Tell me, I want to know. Besides, I can tell you if he’s only using you to get laid.”
“Get out of my doorway, Adrien.” Her menacing look is all the incentive I need to step away. The moment I do, she slams the door.
“Well, that went well,” I mutter to myself.
Suddenly, the door opens again. “Okay,” Mona says. “I need help.”
“I knew you’d reconsider,” I say. “So who’s the rather unlucky guy?”
She shoots me another icy glare and says, “Colton Clomfeld.”
Oh. This is bad.
“Why the hell did you accept a date with Colton?” I bark.
She gapes at me. “When did my personal life become your business, Adrien?”
“When you decided to hitch a date with Jackass Clomfeld!” I blustered.
“I don’t appreciate your attitude—”
“He’s a pea-brained jock. I’m pretty sure 68% of his brain usage is breathing.”
“Who I date isn’t your business—”
“You shouldn’t hang around jerks!” I say, throwing my hands up in the air. My brow furrows and I ask, maybe a little too harshly, “Wait, I’m confused, why did Colton ask you out on a date?”
Mona’s face turns tomato red and I feel like smoke is going to come out of her ears any second.
“You know, you’re right,” she replies coldly. “I shouldn’t hang out around jerks.” With that, the door slams on my face.
“Does this mean our agreement is off?” I yell at the door.
When she doesn’t come back to welcome me into her home, apologize for her rashness, and cancel her date with the biggest jerk in school, I step off of her placemat and start walking to my car.
What’s Colton’s motive with Mona? This doesn’t make any sense, I think as I speed through the highway back home. It’s not that Mona’s a bad catch or anything, even if my tone probably indicated I thought otherwise; Jackass Clomfeld rightfully deserves his name after years of fooling around with girls and dumping them at the worst possible time. No matter how much of a prick Mona is, she doesn’t deserve whatever Colton is about to throw at her face.
When I open the door to my house, I can already feel the anger seeping into me. Mom starts yelling the minute I walk in.
“Where have you been?” (Just doing drugs, Mom.) “This happened yesterday, too, Richard.” (Dad pretends to read the newspaper.) “You can’t keep driving off to nowhere every day, Adrien.” (Nowhere, huh? Sounds a lot better than this hellhole.)
“Sorry,” I mumble, setting my backpack down. “I told you I was going to the library. It’s a lot quieter there.”
“It’s quiet enough here,” she says. “You have a cell phone. Use it. I don’t want to hear this nonsense about no time to call me; it only takes one minute. You have to use your brain, Adrien.”
“Okay, Mom,” I groan. “Can we eat? I’m hungry.”
“The lasagna’s baking” is the last thing she says to me before I bound upstairs to my room.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and a familiar ringtone fills my bedroom. “Hey, Ally,” I greet her.
“Are you home?” she asks.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering. Do you want to go down to the lake? You know, the one near Jasper Park.”
Oh man. This is big. The last time we went to Lake Gless, Ally and I had a competition of the lips, so to speak. I can only imagine what kind of stuff she has cooked up this time.
“Sure, but after dinner,” I reply. “Maybe around 8 or 9, depending on my mom’s mood.”
“Okay. See you there.” Click.
When I go downstairs, I glare at the oven timer until it’s down to the last second. Once the alarm sounds, I whip out the lasagna from the oven like I’m paid to do it.
“Whoa, slow down, buddy,” Dad says from the dinner table. “I’m just as excited as you about this cheesy deliciousness, but let’s savor it.”
I ignore his wise words and chomp through my plate.
When I get up from the dinner table swinging my key lanyard, Mom glares at me. “Where are you going, Adrien?”
“Um, I just have to go to the library again,” I say. “I really can’t concentrate at home. I need to, uh, smell something different. Everything smells like cheese in here.”
She sets her jaw — why does this remind me of Mona? — and sighs. “Fine. Go. But no later than your curfew.”
“Got it,” I call back to her as I go out the door without a backpack. I’ve never really stayed past midnight anyways, so I don’t worry about this too much.
As I’m speeding off to the lake, my phone buzzes in the passenger seat. I don’t recognize the number, but I pick up anyway.
“Heya,” I greet whoever’s calling.
“Adrien?”
I nearly swerve off the road. “Mona?”
“Can you...can you come over?”
The wind wrestles with my hair, but somehow my mouth is gaping open. “Uh...what?”
“Just...” Was that a sniffle? “Just come over, please.”
“Mona, I kind of can’t right now. I’m going somewhere.”
“I got stood up, okay? I didn’t know who else to call.”
ItoldyousoItoldyousoItoldyouso. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Do you, well, can you, um, come over and watch a movie with me?”
I sigh and bang my fist on the steering wheel, causing a loud honk to be heard all through Pasadena. “This is really bad timing. I’m—”
“Preoccupied, I know from the way your voice is conflicted. But — ugh, I hate playing this card — do remember that I still have some dirty little secrets on you.”
“Thanks, Mona. Thanks for giving me an ultimatum.”
“I feel like a bitch right now—”
“Maybe because you are! You’re like this annoying little puppy dog who doesn’t have a life! Seriously, what more do I have to do to make that clear to you?”
Click.
I feel satisfied.
For a second.
Then, before I know it, I’m speed-dialing Ally and making a U-turn. She doesn’t pick up, so I leave her a voicemail. “Hey babe. I’m sorry, I can’t make it. Mom’s a...well, yeah. See you tomorrow at school. Love you. Bye.”
It takes ten minutes for me to get to Mona’s house, and when I do, I’m surprised that there aren’t any lights on, in or outside. Maybe nobody’s home? Hopefully nobody’s home. Then I won’t have to make a fool out of myself at 8:23 p.m. outside the house of the one female I hate more than my mother.
Unfortunately, just as I pull into the driveway, a light turns on inside the house and the front door opens. Mona stands there in a bathrobe, looking disgruntled and annoyed.
But also kind of happy.
However, it doesn’t show in her voice. “What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps.
“Cheering you up,” I say, grabbing the box of microwave popcorn I bought at a gas station on the way. She catches it when I throw it at her.
“Orville Redenbachers kettle corn,” she reads. “Well, at least you did one thing right tonight.”
A couple minutes later, we’re both in our usual seats with bowls of extra-butter popcorn on our laps. The pre-movie previews are playing and for some reason Mona hasn’t skipped to the title menu, so I decide to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
“So, um, why do you think Colton was a no-show?” I ask as she puts the DVD in.
Mona pauses. “Well, he called me.”
“And?” I chew on a piece of popcorn — probably not the kindest move in this situation, but my stomach wins this round.
“He said that asking me out was someone else’s idea. He said that Paul Rigardo told him to.”
I freeze. Paul can be a jerk from time to time, but why would he do that Mona? Especially after his whole I Love Mona rant at school?
She laughs bitterly. “So I guess my response to the whole Paul-liking-me thing is ‘Hell no.’“
I whip out my phone and text Paul: What the hell, dude. Making Colton stand up Mona?
A few seconds later, I feel a buzz against my leg.
Paul: I have reasons.
Me: Yeah? And they are...?
Paul: Okay, well, Colton wasn’t supposed to tell Mona that I’d made him do it. I was gonna make her think that all guys are asses so that she’ll welcome me more.
Me: This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. And that’s counting the time we had to fill out a counselor survey and for the Worst Feeling category he put “when I take a huge dump and feel like I just did anal.”
Paul: It sounded like a good idea in my head.
Me: Next time, keep it in your head.
Mona’s voice cuts through the conversation. “Alright, give me your phone. I can’t stand people who text during a movie.”
I lift my hand up high in the air and stand up. “Take it if you can reach.”
Mona’s not short, but I’ve still got a couple good inches on her. She stands up and jumps to reach my hand. “Adrien, I swear to God—”
“What a dwarf,” I tease, standing on my tiptoes.
“Don’t make me stab you.” She keeps jumping as I move frontward and back across the living room rug.
“With what? Your piercing blue eyes?”
“You’re such a jerk, you know tha-a-AAGH!”
My klutziness causes me to trip over the coffee table (again) and we both land on the other side. Thankfully, Mona lands next to me instead of on top.
Awkward situation averted. I breathe a sigh of relief and look at her.
She’s laughing.
“Mona dear, are you laughing? We’re making history tonight!”
She keeps laughing. “Y-you...”
I expect some kind of curse word to follow, but just more giggles.
“Seriously, are you on pills?”
Mona manages to sit up and crawl towards the Blu-Ray player, still chuckling softly. She presses play and sits at her usual seat. There’s a brilliant grin on her face.
“I really don’t understand you,” I mutter, mostly to myself. She catches it though, and shoots me a look — but it’s not a piercing glare. Instead, it’s like another friendly giggle.
Huh. I think she’s warming up to me.
I’m convinced she’s in one of those happy-go-lucky moods until she says, “Rose was ignoring you during rehearsals.”
I freeze.
“You broke it off, didn’t you?”
Frozen like a block of ice.
“It’s okay,” Mona says quietly. “At least you did it before it really damaged her.” She clicks Play Movie and I try to erase any memories of what I did to Rose.
It actually comes easily, because I’m in love with the movie.
Actually, the movie’s simply okay -- something called Roman Holiday. But I can’t stop staring at the actress starring. I watch as this journalist guy accidentally “meets” a visiting princess in Rome and ropes in his friend to take pictures of her that he can sell to his manager for a rather large profit. Of course, this is an oldies movie so it’s not inappropriate, like nudes or anything. Instead, he takes her across Rome -- the princess trying to keep from him that she’s a princess, and the journalist trying to keep from her that he’s a journalist -- and they basically have the time of their life doing whatever they want.
“I usually hate black-and-white,” I say, “but this is actually, you know, okay.”
“Well, it wasn’t originally going to be in black-and-white,” she replies. “It was going to be in color, but the producers didn’t want the setting of Rome to upstage the actors’ talents.”
“Well, the Princess Ann character is pretty enough.”
Mona opens her mouth in a half-laugh. “My my my, does Adrien Darling have a crush?”
Any response that I give her will only end in teasing: Well, you know, she- she’s not exactly unattractive, but, uh, you know... That just sounds lame. Okay, I’ll admit, the girl’s ravishing. Oh God no, I’m not a formal-speaking snob. Dude. She’s totally hot! Not if I want to get smacked in the kisser.
So instead, I ignore her question and ask, “What’s her name?”
“Um, in the movie, or in real life?” she mumbles back.
“Real life.”
“Audrey Hepburn,” Mona says, almost proudly. “She’s my role model. Which sounds weird. But it’s not.”
“I bet she’s like ninety years old by now,” I mutter to myself.
“She’s dead,” Mona replies. “Cancer, 1992. Sad, right?”
I gulp. “Yeah. Sad.”
The thing about this Audrey woman is that she isn’t what you’d call a bombshell. She’s not a Marilyn Monroe type, with the big boobs and the white dress and the poufy blonde hair. Audrey’s got a black pixie cut, a slim figure, and this attitude of grace about her.
I’m fantasizing about a dead woman. Great.
I don’t even notice when the movie ends, because I’m so soaked up in the beauty of that one actress. I’ve never felt that way about an actress before, which is weird because all little boys have their celeb crushes, right? But here I am, crushing on a beautiful lady who died of cancer when I was still a kid.
“Adrien? You still alive?” I hear Mona’s voice ask.
“Yeah, I was just...thinking.”
“That’s great to know. Maybe you should try some blinking with it, too.”
“Funny.” I shoot her a look. “But I was...I don’t know, that Audrey woman really got to me for some reason.”
Mona shrugs. “She does that. When I first saw her on the screen, I thought she was beautiful, too. It’s something about her that’s just magical. Like she has all the poise in the world, but she spreads it.”
“She’s a perfect princess,” I blurt without thinking. Way to sound like a pansy.
Fortunately, Mona only smirks a little before saying, “The only reason she was chosen for the role is because they were running on a low budget since they wanted to film on location in Rome. They couldn’t afford a big star actress, so they went with someone unknown.” She looks almost proud when she continues, “Little did they know, they just created one of the biggest sensations in the movies.”
“Who are you, her mother?”
“I like her. She’s a brilliant actress and a bright humanitarian.” She pauses. “Not to mention, as you’d probably put it, ‘super hot.’“
“How is she so talented?” Even though I already know the answer just by staring at the TV screen.
“This was her first major role, and she won an Oscar for it. That’s pretty impressive, I would say.”
I stare at her incredulously. “How do you know this stuff?”
“Please, Adrien. I’m a genius,” she says in the same way one would sneer and say, Bitch, I’m fabulous.
I shake my head, grinning, and turn back to the television screen. The movie finishes, and something about this Audrey lady has me in a good mood, smiles and rainbows and all.
“You liked it, didn’t you?” she asks, popping the DVD back into its case.
I pause. “Ma-a-a-aybe.”
“Don’t worry,” Mona says, “your secret is safe with me.”
As I start to leave, Mona actually walks me to the door and says goodnight. She really is going soft.
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