Part Two – How to Overreact
My father always used to tell me that best friends are forever, and then he’d pat me on the back and look at me sagely for a few minutes before walking away with the air of someone who had just dispensed a great amount of wisdom. I could never really figure out why he felt the need to tell me that, because I had never expressed any belief to the contrary. And that was because I had no belief to the contrary. I knew best friends were forever because I had Bianca, and there was no doubt in my mind that we would be friends for the rest of our lives.
That is, there was no doubt in my mind until our senior year of high school. The first doubt entered my mind that Friday in March to be exact, but I soon dismissed it. Bianca wasn’t interested in ditching me because that would mean she’d have to start talking to other people, which I knew full well Bianca was not planning to do. But just to be sure, I decided to give in and postpone my new, utterly fabulous recipe to hang out with her on Sunday.
I rang the doorbell I had rung a million times in my 17 years and began twisting my hair around my finger while waiting for a response. Bianca’s family, the Hamptons, were generally very quick about answering their door. It wasn’t polite to keep people waiting, and the Hamptons were all about being polite. It always sort of freaked me out because they were these really rigid Methodist types who would greet me with a smile and a shake of the hand, and politely step aside to let me in. It was a stark contrast to my house, which, except on Fridays when my mother was busy and the only one home, was difficult to enter without being attacked by someone wanting to hug you or give you a hearty pat on the back. “Hearty” of course meaning “deathly.” I always felt as though I was walking on pins and needles in Bianca’s house, which is why we generally spent our time at mine.
I rang the doorbell again, my brow furrowing at this lack of a prompt response. Finally the door opened and Mrs. Hampton’s smiling face greeted me.
“Hello, dear,” she said sweetly, folding her hands together. I twitched slightly at the lack of physical contact as I always did when I was greeted in this manner. I was convinced for a long time that the Hamptons hated me, but when I finally brought it up to Abe when I was around 10, he responded with, “Nah, they don’t hate you, they’re just Methodists.” Somehow I’ve never really felt satisfied with that explanation.
“Um, hi,” I responded awkwardly. “Is Bianca here?”
“No, I’m sorry, she’s not,” was the unexpected response.
“She’s not?” I asked, wondering where my best friend had gone without me on a Sunday. Normally should would at least ask me if I wanted to come along to wherever it was, even if she knew I would probably say “no.”
“No, sorry, dear. She went out with a boy. Someone named Justin, I believe?” My jaw dropped in disbelief. I had been in complete shock when Bianca had chatted Justin up the way she had the previous Friday, but I’d assumed it was just a fluke thing that would never happen again. It had never even occurred to me for a second that she would actually...go places with him. It was beyond weird.
“Oh,” I finally managed to say once I’d recovered from my shock. “Okay. Thanks.” And I wandered back to my own house in a daze, not even remembering to say goodbye to Mrs. Hampton. I’m sure she thought that was very rude of me, but I was so incredibly stupefied by the revelation that Bianca was out somewhere without me - and with a boy, no less - that being polite was the last thing on my mind.
Once the shock began to subside, I suddenly felt very angry. Angry at whom and about what, I wasn’t sure, but I was angry about something, so I stormed into my house and yelled at the first person I saw. “What the hell, Abraham?”
“Taylor Miriam Levitt! Watch your language!” my mother’s scolding voice came from the next room and I lowered my voice before repeating myself.
“What the hell, Abraham?”
“You’re gonna have to give me something more to go on here, Taylor, because I have no idea why I’m getting the glare of doom,” my brother responded, clearly dumbfounded by my behavior.
“Your delinquent best friend is trying to steal my best friend,” I huffed, plopping down on the couch next to him. A look of understanding passed over his face and he nodded.
“Oh. You’re pissed because Bianca’s hanging out with someone other than you.”
“No I’m not!” I protested, despite the fact that he had hit the nail on the nose and I knew it. It seemed perfectly legitimate until he said it, then I realized how lame it sounded. I was pissed at my best friend for hanging out with someone else. Abe laughed.
“Yeah you are. What’s your problem? You always liked Justin.”
“That isn’t the point.” I folded my arms as my lips formed a typical teenager pout and my brother rolled his eyes at me.
“You have issues,” he stated, standing up and walking away. My brother really annoyed me sometimes, but I have to admit that at that point he was right. I did have issues.
Fortunately, by the time I saw Bianca again, I was over being angry over whatever it was I was angry about in the first place. I asked her about where she’d gone with Justin, and she told me all about how they went to the beach and had a great time swimming and talking about music and friendships and life. That was all fine and dandy until she told me that at first she just wanted to be friends, but she really thought she liked him, if I knew what she meant. I just smiled and nodded, listening to everything she told me and swallowing the lump in my throat as I told myself this wasn’t the big deal I would undoubtedly want to make it out to be.
It wasn’t that I begrudged Bianca other friends, or even a boyfriend if that was what Justin was going to turn out to be, but I had this deep seated fear that if she spent more time with him, I would slowly begin to fade into the background and I would be alone. I had no one else, aside from my family, because Bianca was the only one who’d ever put any effort into spending time with me. Being alone scared the shit out of me.
Luckily for me, Justin had to leave again a few days later and it was just me and Bianca again. I knew she talked to him on the phone every now and then, but that wasn’t nearly as dangerous as him being around and trying to take up all of my best friend’s time. Phone calls didn’t get in the way of hanging out after school and Bianca’s endless attempts to get me to go out with her on Friday nights when she knew full well I wouldn’t.
***
I sat quietly, staring at my hands and twisting them together as my mother lit the Shabbat candles and began to recite the blessing, her own hands covering her eyes in the customary fashion.
“Barukh atah Adonai, Elohaynu, melekh ha-olam...“
The room was filled with a sense of calm, and I sighed slowly, closing my eyes and letting all the worries of my day, such as how I was going to go about getting my history notes back from Jason Wiles who seemed to think it was okay to keep them for weeks on end, fade away.
“Asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav, v’tzivanu-“
The kitchen door swung open suddenly and my head shot up in unison with those of the other members of my family.
“Taylor!” Bianca exclaimed and I stared at her in disbelief as she looked around the room and realized what she’d interrupted. “Shit.” With that, she bolted back out the door, slamming it behind her and I burst into a fit of giggles as I heard my mother’s disdainful, “Vilde chayea...” And father’s tired muttering of, “Oy.”
I spent the rest of dinner trying my best to stifle my giggles until my parents and brother all joined me and we had a good laugh over it. It was moments like this that restored my certainty in my friendship with Bianca. If she picking inopportune moments to burst through my family’s kitchen door and interrupt Sabbath prayers, things were as normal as they ever were.
That night when I awoke to pebbles striking my windowpane, I knew it had to be Bianca come to tell me whatever it was she’d been intending on telling me when she’d come bounding into the Levitt kitchen in the middle of my mother’s prayer. Yawning, I literally rolled out of bed, falling to the floor with a thud. I quickly recovered and hurried to the window, grabbing my robe and wrapping it around my body as I did so.
“What?” I hissed once the window had been opened and I was faced with my best friend, her hair whipping around her face in the wind.
“I need to talk to you,” she responded in a yelled whisper.
“There’s a shocker.” She stuck her tongue out at me and I narrowed my eyes back before adding, “I’ll be down in a second.” I slid my feet into my slippers and tiptoed past my parents’ bedroom, anxious to avoid waking them up, as they would certainly not appreciate that. I slowly opened the front door and jumped as I saw Bianca standing right in front of me. “Dear God...” I muttered. “Don’t do that!”
“What? You knew I was gonna be-“
“I didn’t know you’d be in the middle of my personal bubble when I walked out the door,” I interrupted, giving her a playful shove and walking over to the swing that hung on the left side of the porch. Bianca followed and we settled into a steady, slow swinging motion before I spoke. “So what’s so important that you had to interrupt the Sabbath prayers and wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“I talked to Justin today,” she informed me as though this alone were enough for me to understand her actions. It was the beginning of May and they’d been talking on the phone at least every other day since March. I saw nothing significant in this statement.
“And...?” I prompted.
“He’s coming to the prom with me,” she squealed. Squealed! Bianca never, ever squealed. It was almost as though I was talking to some cheerleader who had decided to possess the body of my best friend. This was all Justin’s fault, that was for sure. Ever since he’d shown up that day, she’d been different.
“Since when do we go to the prom?” I responded harshly and Bianca’s smile faded. Before she could reply, I added, “And do you have any idea how much attention that’ll bring you? Showing up to the prom with a fucking popstar?”
“Well, I just thought,” she began.
“You thought what?” I interrupted, my voice getting louder as the full implications of this settled in. I couldn’t believe she was actually going to the prom with Justin fucking Timberlake. It was horrible. Going to prom was against everything we stood for. And going to prom with someone cool was against the very essence of what Bianca and Taylor were supposed to be about. “That it would be a good way to become the center of the entire school, spend more time with Justin and completely leave me behind? It’s like I don’t even matter anymore.” She was staring at me in shock as I stood up from the swing and folded my arms across my chest.
“What are you even talking about, Tay?” I hated it when she called me Tay. “I just thought it would be fun. I like him a lot and-“
“Yeah, more than you like me apparently.”
“Stop interrupting me, goddammit!” Now she was standing and glaring at me as I glared back, my eyes flashing. “What the hell is your problem?”
“He is my problem!”
“I thought you liked Justin! He’s your brother’s best friend!”
“Oh, Joseph, Jesus and Mary!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration.
“It’s Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Bianca snapped at me.
“Well, I don’t know, I’m Jewish!” I screamed back, then stomped into my house and slammed the door behind me.
***
“Remind me again why we’re here?” I requested of my best friend as we stepped into our school’s gymnasium, which was fully decked out for our senior prom. Somehow between the beginning of May and the end of May, we had managed to make up and I had allowed her to convince me to come to the prom with her and Justin. She had even gone out of her way to find me a “nice Jewish boy” as a date.
“Because it’s fun, Taylor. Trust me,” Bianca responded with a nod. I blinked at her.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”I asked skeptically. The Bianca I knew would never have tried to convince me that school functions were fun. I was very confused.
“Oh, Taylor,” she huffed and wandered ahead. I sighed and jumped slightly as I felt hot breath on my ear.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a big fan of these things either,” Justin whispered. “We’ll make it fun.” And he winked and walked away to join his date. I turned to my “nice Jewish boy,” who’s name was Daniel.
“So...” I began awkwardly.
“So.” He was clearly uncomfortable as he forced a smile and stared at me for an abnormally long period of time without blinking.
“Wanna dance?” I asked, not thinking about the fact that I possessed about as much coordination as a blind squirrel. Which I’m going to take a guess and say is not a whole lot.
“Sure,” he agreed. We wandered out to the floor and started bobbing to music in an entirely hideous manner that could only be accomplished by me and someone who was the product of Bianca’s horrible matchmaking skills.
To make a long story short, prom sucked the big one. I danced with Daniel once and then we just sat in a corner staring at other people and sipping punch. Every now and then he’d tell me stories about his cousin who was a Rabbi, which were lacking a little bit in the excitement department. I hardly saw Bianca the entire night and I was becoming incredibly pissed at her and Justin again. Stupid Justin. He was just trying to steal my best friend and ruin my life. I was sure of it.
Finally I wandered into the hall by myself, taking off my painful shoes and sliding to the ground next to my locker. I would have gone home, but Bianca was my ride so I was stuck until she decided to leave.
“Hey.” I jumped as a male voice startled me out of my self pity and I looked up to see Justin sitting down next to me.
“I really wish you people would stop doing things like that,” I grumbled, directing my gaze towards the floor.
“Sorry,” he replied with a laugh. “What are you doing out here?”
“Hating my life and wishing you hadn’t killed my best friend and replaced her with some weirdo who actually likes things like prom,” I responded sullenly. He laughed again. I saw nothing funny about this situation.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I needed her for my legion of the undead.”
“I figured,” I responded unaffectedly. There was a long pause before it occurred to me that Bianca was not with him. “Where is she?”
“Oh, in the bathroom. We’re gonna leave in a minute, this thing is kinda blah.”
“Good. I hope you know this has been the worst night of my life.”
“Duly noted.”
“I just don’t belong at these things, you know?” I lamented forlornly. He shook his head and locked his eyes onto mine.
“No, I don’t.” I moved my eyes back to the floor.
“Yeah, well...I don’t. I look like a freak, I feel like a freak and I dance like a freak.”
“You don’t look like a freak. You look great,” he stated sincerely. “You’re really growing up well, kid.” He punched my arm in that big brother way as he often did, and it hurt as it often did.
“Yeah, but I don’t look as great as Bianca, huh?” I responded, poking my tongue out at him. Justin laughed.
“You know, just because you’re different from Bianca doesn’t mean you’re less,” he informed me. I pondered this for a moment before speaking again.
“You know, you’re making it very difficult for me to hate you.”
“That’s my goal.”
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