Chapter 5, Part 2 - Asia

Asia's social life just gets busier and busier, but her academic career...

            I had to stay after school on Friday for Economics help. It was bad enough that I had to sit there with two other kids, one who was actually stupider than me, but even worse was that it was the weekend and I was still in class. I could barely stand to be there during school hours, let alone after the last bell. But my grade was slipping fast and I didn’t want my parents to give me a hard time about what would soon be an F if I didn’t bring it up. So there I was, in a stuffy little classroom packed full of plastic desks, listening to my Economics teacher drone on and on and on.

He was talking about supply and demand and how they related to each other. I could understand that easily enough in an explanation. As demand for an item went up, so did the supply. Because they can’t sell stuff and meet the demand if the supply isn’t there. And as demand goes down, so does the supply, because why make stuff if nobody’s buying it?

“Asia, you get this,” Mr. Peters said. “Why did you get it so backwards on the last exam?”

“I don’t know,” I told him. “Maybe I just checked the wrong box by accident.”

“It was a short essay response, not multiple-choice.”

“Oh, those. I always get everything backwards on those, they get me so flustered.” It was true. When I had to write out short essays, I got so worried about giving the right answer and showing that I really understood it that I usually put down all the wrong information. It was like my brain just shut off.

“Maybe you’re just a bad test taker,” he considered. “Or maybe you just didn’t study as much as you thought you did?”

“I told you, I studied for hours!” Not so much. Unless hours meant the twenty minutes between when I got to school and when class started, and then again between English and the actual test.

“Do you find it difficult to retain information?”

“I don’t know,” I actually just wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Retain information? Like remembering? Because I could remember, just not always when I needed to.

“Hey, can we get back to supply and demand? I’m still having trouble…” one of the guys complained. He had greasy hair down to his shoulders and a tiny tiny goatee, making him look like a little monkey that had never been groomed. Ew.

“I understand this, I just need to work more on retaining it.” I said, standing and sweeping my bag over my shoulder. “Can I just go?”

“That’s fine, Asia. See you on Monday.”

I flew from that room. Talk about painful! Economics was boring enough by itself, but having someone drill you about your study habits just made it worse. I was more than ready to go home and soak in the tub for a few hours. My parents were working late that night, and I’d already missed out on General Hospital. Damn Economics.

“Hey baby,” a slightly shy voice behind materialized. Oh good fortune!

“Hi Andrew!” I spun around and jumped into his arms. “What are you still doing here?”

            “Surprising you. Do you have to be home anytime soon?”

            “Nothing stopping me from staying out,” I thought of my empty house and bubble bath, and briefly wanted to go home anyway, but Andrew was more than enough to keep me out. “Why, what’s up?”

            “I told you, I have a surprise for you. Come on, we have to leave to make it on time.” He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall, towards the doors to the yard. I didn’t need convincing; I worked my fingers around his and walked alongside of him. Sunlight spilled all throughout the hall from the glass doors at the other end. It was like walking towards a dream, a gold and shimmering dream. I squeezed Andrew’s hand at the idea of it.

            We stepped outside, where the air was crisp. October had a way of chilling everything in freshness, like celery and baby carrots. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. It was just fresh.

            Andrew’s car was in the senior parking lot. He had a better spot than Dawn because he’d been driving to school since last spring and upgraded his spot over the summer. He was parked closer to the driveway, just a wheel spin away from escape on days that everyone was clamoring to leave the lot. That wasn’t a problem at the time, since everyone had already hightailed it home for the weekend. I buckled myself in to his Pontiac while he jammed the key in the ignition, letting the engine run a second to wake up, and we were off.

            “So where are we going?” I asked as we sped past town.

            “Well, that’s the surprise.” He was smirking out the windshield, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the bypass.

            “Can I have a hint?” I believe I’ve already mentioned that long surprises killed me. I needed to know everything ahead of time.

            “You’re gonna love it,” he said. “Love it.”

            “Shopping?”

            “You’ll see.”

            “Am I dressed appropriately?”

            “You always are.”

            Well, that certainly wasn’t true. More than once I’d left the house in something I would never let my grandparents see me in. Not that I dressed s****y. It wasn’t so much that my clothes were too revealing, just that my sense of fashion was different. I like form fitting clothes, I liked lower necklines. I never wore anything exposing, but they were just certain outfits, you know? That day, I was wearing faded jeans and a blouse with red and pink stripes. I had the same shirt in blue at home, but I preferred the pink one because it reminded me of Cranberry Ginger Ale. God I love Cranberry Ginger Ale. It’s the best kind of ale, in my opinion.

            “Well, what kind of…”

            “Asia, no more question! I’m not telling you until we get there, so you’ll just have to guess to yourself.”

            That jerk. How I did love him.

            But I put on a good show. I crossed my arms and shoved myself back into the seat, pushed out my lower lip and glared out the window. Let him think he had me really ticked off. I’d give him my own little surprise by not being the least bit angry when he went to apologize.

            A minute later, the only sound was coming from the radio. I glanced over to see where my apology was, and Andrew was still smiling to himself while he drove. He wasn’t even concerning himself with my anger.

            “Mean,” I told him. “Don’t tell me.”

            “I won’t.” he said simply. “I know you’ll like it.”

            Well fine. I made a mental note to appear very put out when we got there, no matter how happy I really was.

            We finally took an exit off the bypass and came out on this strip where a bunch of restaurants and hardware stores line the road. Sears, Home Goods, Friday’s. So we were either eating good old fashioned family food, or shopping for throw pillows and silverware. I guess food, just because I was pretty sure I’d never given the impression that I wanted a new set of bed sheets.

            I didn’t pay much attention to where we pulled in because I was busy examining what was around. I picked out several places I thought we might go to before Andrew stopped the car, and I looked out the windshield to a white building with a curly red slug-like thing on the wall.

            “Red Lobster?” I couldn’t believe it. “For real?”

            “I’ve been saving for the last month to be able to take you here,” He was watching me, looking so excited and proud. His eyes shone at my reaction.

            “This is my favorite! I love seafood!” I shrieked, and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

            “Alright alright, get offa’ me,” he shrugged me off, trying to look nonchalant, but really being quite pleased with himself. “Our reservation is for five, so we have a little time to wait.”     

            “How did you know I’d be out of Economics by then?”

            “I figured you’d find any excuse to leave as early as possible.”

            B*****d. “I understand it. I didn’t need to stay longer.”

            “I believe you.”

            I believed him too. 

           

            Had it been my dad who was paying the bill, I would’ve gone all out. I adore lobster, sometimes I find myself drooling just thinking about it. But I also adored Andrew, and despite his assurances that he could afford any meal I desired, I decided on a less expensive but equally delicious meal. Shrimp and lobster linguini alfredo, almost as good as getting an actual lobster. Plus it was drenched in alfredo sauce, which I can never get enough of. Andrew got the fried seafood platter, which was a bunch of fried fish-type things. Boys and fried food. They have a strange fascination with food being greasy and ruined.

I spent Thanksgiving at Dawn’s house one year when my parents couldn’t get off work, and was in awe the entire night. Every guy in her family stood around the vat outside, staring transfixed as they fried not only the turkey, but also a few vegetables from the appetizer trays, a piece of bread, and a pickle. (Mr. Chilingarian swore he’d seen it done before, although Dawn and I both found his resources questionable.) I only like fried food if its fried chicken, everything else works fine for me the way it is naturally.

I didn’t bother Andrew about it, though. He was buying me a nice dinner, after all. Mostly I just couldn’t believe he’d actually thought to take me to absolute favorite restaurant! Even my parents chose to forget about Red Lobster, being that they both tended to snub seafood. My dad especially, he turned up his nose at restaurants that didn’t offer everything covered in marinara sauce or on top of linguini. My mom would eat anything, but if she didn’t cook it herself, she enjoyed it considerably less. I blame Abbi for that, since she made dinner for her family every single night; Mom had never had take-out until she was in her third year of college. Really, I was lucky.

Andrew even went ahead and ordered a slice of chocolate cake for us to share. I was in Heaven. My sides ached and I could feel myself gaining five pounds, but I was so happy that I didn’t bother myself about it. I just snuggled next to Andrew in our booth and let myself enjoy both his warmth and the cake.

 

I had nine missed calls when I finally checked my phone later that night, when Andrew had dropped me off at home. It had been on silent while I got Economics help and I had never switched it back to ringing before Andrew had taken me out. Stacy and Madison had apparently spent the last half hour trying desperately to get a hold of me.

“Stace?” I called her back. “What’s up?”

“Did you get my messages?” her bubbling voice was rushed, sped up like a Chipmunk.

“Not yet, is something wrong?”

“Madison and I were thinking of going to Ripples tonight, you up for it?”

Ripples was an all-ages club in Philadelphia. Madison had discovered it a year ago, and we went there a few times a year. It was okay. I hadn’t been to many clubs, but Jake had seen his fair share and said they were usually pretty grungy. Then again, Jake was living in a college town, where the clubs catered to the eighteen-and-up crowd. Ripples was nice, a dance floor on the first level where the walls had lights streaming through them in neon surges and across the ceiling, so that it reflected on the black tiled floor and confused you when you stared down at it. The second level ran around the walls, living the middle opened so that you could look down to the dance floor. Up there was where you could get drinks and buffalo wings, as long as you were old enough for whatever you were ordering and didn’t take it to the lower level.

It was cool; it was something to do on a weekend when you were tired of watching movies and hanging out with your parents. (Not that I ever did that, and not that I would’ve minded so much if I did. I liked my parents well enough.) But it was a long way to drive for a few hours of dancing in a room so heated that it made you dizzy, so smoky sometimes that you would prefer a normal club where people weren’t smoking just for the hell of it.

“I don’t know. When are you leaving?”

“We were thinking of going at nine, but we can wait for you if that’s too early. Where have you been?”

“I was on a date. Nine’s okay, I guess. Are you getting really dressed up or anything?”

“No, pretty casual, actually.” Stacy didn’t know the meaning of casual. For her, casual was a skirt she could wear in any situation and a shirt that amplified her cleavage without giving everything away. Considering that she was headed for a club, she would probably be wearing her best fitting jeans, something tight and black over her shoulders, if it even covered her shoulders. That meant Madison would be done up more than she needed to be, wearing some skirt that was way too flimsy and a shirt that was just short of a tube top. Yes, even in cold weather, Madison dressed like a hooker. As Dawn would say, she left little to the imagination. I preferred to be more modest, even though Dawn and Maggie teased me about being just as bad. I mean really, there’s no harm in looking good, but I like to be warm at the same time. And preferably without the aid of alcohol. Last March when we went to Ripples, Madison found a guy to get her shots and not only got too warm for her sweater (and almost her shirt, but Stacy stopped her from taking it off) but was too unsteady to even walk to her car. I had to call Dawn to come get us, forgetting that Madison’s car was still in the city. We explained it by swearing that she had lost her keys.

“I guess I’ll go with you, as long as Madison’s swears she won’t get drunk this time! You know how pissed off Dawn was about that whole thing,” I reminded her.

“She swears, she swears!” Stacy said. “No drinking, no screwing around. She says she just wants to dance and get school off her mind.”

I could understand that. School was getting crazy, with the first marking period nearing its end. I definitely wanted a break.

“Okay. I’ll go. Call me when you guys are leaving, okay? I’ll need time to leave a note for my parents.”

“Sure, sure. See ya later, Asia. Muah!” Stacy always signed off with a loud, smacking kiss. It always made me smile.

Nine o’clock gave me about two hours to get ready, which was cutting it but doable. I would just have enough time to shower, blow-dry my hair, iron it straight, slap on some makeup, and get dressed. I was just zipping my jeans with the flower patches on the sides when Stacy called me back.

“You sure Dawn and Maggie won’t mind not being invited? I always feel bad, we don’t even ask them.” She said in my ear.

“Anymore. We don’t ask them anymore.” I could hear Madison correcting her.

“They never want to come, you know that. It’s not really their thing. And especially after we had to call Dawn, she especially won’t want to come.” I emphasized.

“Okay, I just felt bad…”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll take them to the bookstore or something to make up for it.” Stacy could excuse anything if she thought there was a way to rectify things. Buy someone ice cream, take them somewhere, she’d do anything within her power to make friends not be mad with her. She didn’t mind so much if the problem was with someone else, like if Dawn and I were fighting with each other, but she didn’t want people fighting with her.

“Okay, we’ll do that. By the way, we’re sitting outside your house.”

“Coming!” I took a detour through the kitchen, where I scribbled out a note to my parents, telling them I’d gone out with Stacy and Madison and that I’d be back around midnight. That wasn’t true, and I knew it already. Madison’s license tied her to eleven o’clock, but she never paid attention to curfews, and she definitely wouldn’t leave Ripples until she was good and ready, which would not happen before midnight.

 

The drive into the city always went by fast. We made it that way. Cruising down the Blue Route, belting out Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin” and any Backstreet Boys songs that Madison had, measuring the drive in terms of songs sung.

Ripples was located in a well-lit area of the city so that kids would feel safe going there late at night. The lines outside were never terrible because the over-21 crowd preferred not to hang out around teenagers, and the over-18’ers could get in most places even if they couldn’t drink. But for a club that let the youngest of teenagers hang out inside, it was decently popular. We waited in line for about five minutes before the bouncer waved us forward, drew black X’s on our hands, and sent us in the door.

The main lights were always off, but the black lights were ever present. People glowed purple on the dance floor, even though spotlights shone a variety of colors and spun around wildly. You usually saw clusters of girls dancing together, because after all, there’s nothing like getting out for a night with your girls, right? Occasionally you’d see some guys standing near the wall, or prowling around, looking for girls who might accept them for a song. And it wasn’t uncommon to find couples, probably kids who didn’t know each other before they got there, but had no objections to chance. I wasn’t one of them; I hadn’t been for a year. My first night at Ripples, I was having fun dancing with my friends, my back to the rest of the dance floor. Nobody seemed surprised when a guy I didn’t know edged up against me and started dancing with me, probably because I was usually the one of us who would do such a thing. I wouldn’t have minded, except he stayed for the next song, and the next and the next after that too, refusing to leave even when my friends left to get drinks. I attempted to follow them alone but he was persisted, and I ended up biting his hand when he didn’t leave me alone, and then shrieking and tearing up a little when a nearby bouncer checked over on us. He got kicked out for harassment, I triumphantly located my friends. But I had learned my lesson.

We went to the second floor, because Madison was friends with one of the bartenders. He blew her a kiss when he saw her, she blew it back.

“He’s gay, Maddie, I’m telling you,” Stacy warned her.

“Being comfortable is not necessarily gay,” Madison replied coolly.

“Please. You’ve seen his tattoo. No Day But Today? The only guys who like Rent enough to tattoo it on themselves are gay.”

“Okay, that’s not true, Andrew said the music is some of his favorite show tunes…” I tried to defend him.

“I said tattooing it was gay, not liking it.”

“Oh. Well, then never mind.”

We approached the corner of the bar and stood waiting until Madison’s friend, Paul, could make it over to us.

“Hi ladies, what is it tonight?” he asked us, all smiles.

“Can I have a Diet Coke?” Stacy smiled back, and I ordered the same. Madison ordered wings on the promise that I would help her eat them, but I didn’t know how well I’d be able to keep that up. I was still kind of full from Red Lobster. Which reminded me…

“Oh man, Andrew is such a gentleman,” I swooned. “He surprised me after school today, and took me to Red Lobster.”

“Wow, your favorite!” Stacy gasped, excited for me.

Madison rolled her eyes. “So? Not like it’s hard.”

“He’s such a sweetheart. I think this is the longest I’ve dated a guy without having any complaints.” At least, the longest since Josh, but few could compare to him.

“None at all?” Madison prodded.

“I mean, sometimes he’s a little quieter than I am, and it’s hard to get him to keep a conversation going. You know, like if I want a break and don’t want to carry it myself. Some people just can’t do it and he’s one of them sometimes.”

Stacy snorted. “But seriously, how often do you want to give up on talking?”

“Not often,” I giggled. “It has to be going pretty badly first, and that’s rare.”

The wings arrived and Madison dove into them. Sometimes the only place I saw Madison appear hungry was when we were out in the darkness of a bar. That was when she seemed most comfortable eating without an excuse as to why. At school, her lunch was a bagel and a bottle of water. She never snacked during the day, at least never when I saw her. And whenever I was at her house, dinner was light and breakfast was close to nonexistent. Dawn and Maggie were constantly preaching to me about how Madison was probably bulimic or something, sometimes even Stacy asked me if we should talk to her about it. But I knew what it was like to be accused of not eating, of binging and purging, and I didn’t want to offend Madison if it really wasn’t a problem.

“Let’s dance,” Madison commanded, her lips stained from the barbecue sauce.

“Oh, I hate dancing here,” I whined, and she smacked my shoulder.

“Then why’d you come? That’s what we came for!”

“I just don’t want to end up grinding with some dirty freak, okay? Neither of you has ever had a stranger jump on you before,” I reminded them.

“Christ, was it that big of a deal?” Madison was glaring at me. Oh great, she was in a mood. I wondered if the wings had done it, upsetting her stomach or something. Or maybe it was Stacy nagging her about Paul being gay. Whatever it was, Madison was not someone to argue with if she was already pissed off, which was something that Dawn, despite her infinite wisdom, had never learned.

“We’ll protect you this time,” Stacy promised quickly. “If some guy comes up, we’ll pull you away.”

“Yeah. That work for you?” Madison’s eyes were owlish, and it could mean something dangerous if you defied her when her eyes were growing.

“Fine, we’ll do that,” I caved, only to avoid a scene. I had a reputation for never doing anything I didn’t want to do, which was often accomplished by making compromises. If a person wouldn’t let up, I told them off. Those were the instances that created my standing, although they were rare. If my friends wanted to dance so badly that they had to drive nearly an hour away to do it, I might as well dance with them, even if I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much. That’s just what friends do.

Author's Note

I want to keep the events in this chapter, but I don't want to overdo them. Which I think I've already done. (Skipped Asia's section of Chapter 4 because it's written very poorly even though the events are important, and also Dawn's section of Chapter 5 for the same reason.)