Stay Gold - Tobly McSmith Page 0,18
But I knew Nana all my life and loved her. I won’t know this guy, not really. And I need the money.
“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “Ask me again in a month.”
“I will, honey.” She sits down on my bed. “You know, your father tries. He does. It’s harder for him.”
“I know, Mom,” I say, because I love her.
She runs her hand through my hair, messing it up.
“Thank you, Mom.” I don’t need to explain why.
“I love you, son.”
Son.
TWO
Wednesday, August 28
GEORGIA, 7:10 A.M.
My phone alarm wakes me—OMG, it’s so loud. I’m pushing around the magazines on my bed in hopes of locating my phone and stopping the madness. I zonked out last night while reading an article in the New Yorker about the drama behind the curtain of a Broadway musical.
I find my phone (under my pillow), stop the alarm, and see a text from an unsaved number. It must be Pony. On the record, I don’t usually give my number to a guy that quick. Off the record, I blame all the endorphins running through my body from the prank. And how cute he looked.
I open the text: Hope u had a good first day, Georgie.
Why would Pony say that? And why would he call me Georgie? We aren’t there yet.
Crap. Crapcrapcrap.
I do know this number. It’s my ex. There’s no name saved because I deleted the contact when we broke up. He must have sensed that I was trying to move on. I feel like a freshman caught in a net. Regret kicks in hard. I should have blocked his number.
I bury my face into the pillow and scream for a minute. I flip back over and stare at the ceiling. I am so over Anthony. The night of the breakup was too devastating. It’s best told as a dishy gossip column:
HILLCREST HEARTBREAK
Addison, TX, June 28, 2019
Senior quarterback and junior cheerleader go separate ways after a humiliating and public scene unfolded at Tiffany’s end-of-school party on Friday night.
Sources close to cheerleader claim the seemingly perfect couple had decided to split when he left for college in August but wanted to spend the summer together. Looks like the quarterback had a different game plan.
Spotted at Tiffany’s party, QB invited newly elected dance-team captain upstairs for private talk. In the bathroom! We all know the most meaningful conversation happens next to a toilet! Minutes later, the cheerleader ran upstairs and kicked the bathroom door open, revealing the quarterback and the starlet in a rather compromising position. And if you think that’s bad, you’ll never believe what happens after that . . .
I don’t like talking about the next part. So let’s not.
I look out my window expecting to see the lawn covered in toilet paper or some other retribution for yesterday’s epic prank. Looks undisturbed. Revenge surely awaits us, unclear when.
I stand motionless in the shower, letting the hot water hit my back, wondering what Anthony is doing right now. He’s a freshman at Texas Tech and pledging a fraternity, so he’s probably passed out. Ant couldn’t wait for college. It was so annoying to listen to him talk constantly about the dorms, the parties, the independence. There’s no doubt he was drunk when he sent that text last night. Does that even count?
I try on a few outfits before settling on my go-to blue dress. I’d be down to wear yoga pants and a sleep shirt to school, but Mia demands that the cheerleaders always look as “flawless and fancy” as possible. We represent the squad (and the school, and America). We must dress accordingly.
While driving to school—blasting my air conditioner and Taylor Swift—I think about why Anthony reached out to me. I have only seen him once since the shitshow night at Tiffany’s party, and that didn’t go well either. I told him to stay far away. I was equal parts mad at him and afraid that I would relapse and get back with him. After what he did, there would be no regaining my reputation—or dignity—if I slipped.
I hate myself for saying this, but Anthony swept me off my feet. I dated a couple guys before him, but my feet were firmly planted, and I was in control. Not with Anthony. We met at a keg party in the woods the summer before junior year. I was hanging out with my senior cheerleading friends, celebrating their recent graduation. I did my best to act like I wasn’t devastated about them leaving.
Someone started a game of spin the