“Oh. My. God. Your house is so huuuuuuuge!” I heard a squeal come from the front door. That’s when I was thrown back into reality.
Tatum was here. In this house. With me and my new group of friends. She showed up with Cole and Devin and threw her purse on the table next to our nearly done project, not even casting a look in my direction. Her heavy and clunky keys slid out the top of her purse, knocking over several toothpick structures I had set aside to dry from gluing. Thoughtless and selfish, was all I could think as I pushed her crap from the table to a nearby chair and reassembled the toothpicks.
“Reeeeeeeeeed,” she giggled, in a little-girl voice that I thought wasn’t fooling anyone. The fakeness oozed from her, and it was utterly transparent—far from attractive. But just then, she threw her arms around Reed and nuzzled her nose into the corner of his neck. She was two years older than him, and she could have any guy in our school. But she wanted to lay claim to Reed. And I was furious.
At first, I thought maybe Reed would be as annoyed by her childish voice and overt flirtation as I was, but he seemed to be eating it up, picking her up and twirling her around in the kitchen, touching her legs with his feet on the couch in the living room and admiring “how cute she was” when she stole his hat from his head and put it on her perfectly tussled head of hair.
For the first time in weeks, the guys didn’t sit around the table with me. I continued to work, listening to the conversations in the living room. Tatum giggling at their sports conversations, and asking them what they thought of her hair: Should she cut it? Does it look better up? Should she wear more hats? She had a loose over-shirt on and I watched as she strategically removed it in front of Reed, her back to him as he sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. She looked over her shoulder, asking him if he could tuck the tag in on the tight tank she was now revealing.
“Yeah, I got it,” he said, a bit taken with her. I could tell he was feeding off of her. Who wouldn’t. She was 17 going on 26 and was built like a Hooters waitress. I thought of myself trying to pull off that same move…I would look idiotic, I disappointed.
For two hours, the giggling continued. At one point, she had jumped up on his lap and had wrapped her arms around his neck. He was stroking up and down her back with his hand, his thumb flicking the straps of her tank top. He had a smirk on his face and she knew she had him. While I was only a room away, I was an entire world apart.
My phone made me jump, and I knocked over the stack of note cards I had been making about our various model pieces. I told my dad I would meet him outside when he came, fearful that I might start crying at any moment. I bent down to gather the note cards and my eyes started to sting. I saw the bottom of Reed’s tattered jeans on the other underside of the table. I begged myself to stop the tears and wished with all my might that he would just leave it at a “see ya next time” or “goodbye.”
“Was that your dad?” he asked.
“Yeah, he’s on his way. I’m just packing up and then I’ll be out of your hair,” I said, a bit snarky. I hated myself for letting it get the best of me, and then also dreaded the direction I knew this would go, and the fact that I was taking it there.
“What the hell does that mean, Noles? Something wrong?” Reed said, squatting down to help me with my note cards. Just then, I heard Tatum calling from the living room, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeed, come back here, I’m cold.”
He smiled a little, turning his head sideways, almost as if he was imagining just what he could do to warm her up.
I snapped. “You know, if I was going to do this entire thing by myself, I could have just done it at home, saved us both a lot of hassle. It’s not like I need your table to hold up the card board,” I shot the words at him, though they were merely a mask for what was eating at my insides.
“Noles, I totally didn’t mean to leave you with all of this. I just figured you liked doing this part and you were so good at it. We always have fun, and laugh, and I can totally jump in whenever you need me to. You just never seem to want me to. … I’m sorry, dude,” he rattled that last part off, just as Tatum let out another cackle of a laugh. And that finally broke me.
“Dude? … Dude?” I stood as he did, getting close enough to him so I could say this last part with enough force but just out of earshot of what was in the next room. “I’m not a dude, Reed, like Cole or Devin. At least …” I looked around as I stepped closer to whisper in his ear. “I haven’t had a sex change,” I gritted through my teeth. Then, picking up his wrist, I formed his hand into a fist and pounded mine against it, looking straight into his eyes the entire time, unflinching. “Booooom!” I said plainly, with as little emotion as possible, pursing my lips. Staring into his eyes for a few more uncomfortable seconds, I saw realization wash over his face. I had heard the entire thing—and I had heard him.