Alyson ël - Saving Zoë

“I guess,” I say, shrugging and smiling weakly.

“It’s okay.” She nods. “Really. I’m happy for you guys,” she says, nodding again, this time more firmly.

I walk alongside her, running my index finger over the top of a neighbor’s white picket fence. Thinking back to a time when things were so simple and easy.

“It’s just… everything’s changing,” she says, staring faraway. “Tell me.”

My mom left a note on the fridge, telling me how she and my dad are going to some faculty dinner party, but to go ahead and warm up the leftover lasagna and make myself a salad in case I get hungry.

I climb the stairs to my room, remove the jeans and sweater I wore to school, and replace them with my old, worn-out navy blue sweatpants, and my reading IS SEXY T-shirt that I ordered off the Internet mere seconds after seeing it on Rory Gilmore. Then I plop down on my bed and think about how I should probably be starting my homework even though I’d really rather not.

It’s not often I get the whole house to myself, so I like to make the most of it when I do. Which usually translates to me just loafing around, wasting time, and not doing much of anything, since that seems to make the time last even longer.

It’s weird how Jenay and Abby always get freaked out and scared when they’re left home alone. Before their parents’ car has even left the driveway, they’re already on the phone, dialing everyone they know, trolling for company.

But not me. I totally love it. And I can’t ever remember getting the slightest bit anxious or scared. Usually it’s more the exact opposite. It makes me feel happy, expansive, and free. But that’s probably because all last year my parents were like the gestapo, never allowing me more than a half hour’s peace. And it’s only in the last few months that they’ve finally begun to retreat.

I’m just about to turn on my iPod when my cell phone rings. And when I see that it’s Parker my first instinct is to let it go straight into voice mail, even though I know that I shouldn’t.

“Hey,” I say, wedging it between my shoulder and cheek, trying to sound all upbeat and happy, like a good

girlfriend would.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Urn, nothing. Just lying here,” I say, lifting my feet in the air, checking out my chipped-up pedicure, and thinking how I should probably cover it with some socks.

“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Yup, really,” I tell him, adding no further comment.

“Who’s all there?”

“Just me.”

“You want company?” He laughs, but I can tell that he means it.

I roll over and gaze out the window. “You mean, now?” I ask, knowing he does, wishing he didn’t.

“Yeah, I need a little help with my math homework and I hear you’re the go-to math wiz.”

“Oh really?” I say, laughing like I’m someone else, hoping I’ll be mistaken for flirtatious.

“No, I just want to come over and hang. Is that cool?”

I stare at the oak tree, tall, dark, and barren. Then I roll back over and sigh. “Give me an hour,” I tell him, closing the phone and reaching under the bed.

Last night my parents sat me down for a game of ultimatum. Saying if I don’t land a job by next Monday, then I’ll find myself gainfully employed at the one they found for me. Some psych doc who needs a little help with filing and appt scheduling for all the sick heads that visit his office.

So of course I acted all offended, like it was way too beneath me to even consider. But the truth is, I’m thinking it could really work. Because, let’s face it, making appointments for the mildly insane definitely beats wearing a polyester uniform and hanging over a deep fryer, encouraging a nasty case of adolescent acne, or standing on my feet all day building bunions at some stupid, small-town boutique.

So now I can just screw around for the whole rest of the week, pretending I’m job hunting, and then Monday morning I’ll show up fresh and eager and ready to report for duty at Dr. Freud’s.

O yeah, Carly called last night, wanted to talk about what happened. I told her there’s nothing to talk about, and wished her well. Then right before we hung up I just might have mentioned something about Stephen’s annoying bicep-gazing-during-sex habit, and how she might want to look away when he eats since it’s truly disgusting. And then I think she may have hung up on me. But, whatever.

Marc is as elusive and hard to reach as ever — which just makes me lust him even more! But I happen to know that he knows about Paula’s party, so I’m wearing my cobalt blue halter top and white jeans in hopes that he shows.

Jeez — where to begin? Was it Lennon who said something about life being what happens when you’re busy making other plans? Anyway, it’s just so freaking true! I left the house around noon, dressed all conservative so everyone would think I was really going job hunting, when really I went straight to Paula’s where I changed into my bikini and we spent all day reading magazines by the pool.

Then Kevin and Kristin stopped by (always together, together forever!), and by the time they finally split, Paula and I were so stoned we could barely move. Maybe that’s the secret to their long-term romance, they’re just way too messed up and unmotivated to go looking for someone else???

Anyway, before we even realized it, it was already getting dark, and all these people just started walking through the door, and we were still on our lounge chairs by the pool! And since it was Paula’s party, and since she was all oiled up and still in her bikini, everyone just assumed it was supposed to be a moonlight pool party or something. So they just started stripping off their clothes and jumping in. Including Paula who technically didn’t have to get naked since she was already in a bikini, though I’m not really sure she realized that at the time. Anyway, I just lay there, making my way through a bag of chips, while my eyes searched for Marc, trying not to be too bummed out by the fact that I didn’t see him anywhere, and trying not to care that everyone around me was all happy and hooked up, well, everyone but me.

So finally I decided to go into the house and look for something to change into, and I could not freaking believe it when I go past the den and see Marc sitting there, all alone, in front of the TV. Only the TV was off, and his eyes were closed. So I just assumed he was probably sleeping, stoned, or meditating or something. And I just stood there staring at him, thinking how peaceful and beautiful he looked being all still and mellow like that, but also wishing he’d open his eyes and see me.

But when he finally did, it was like nothing registered. He just sat there all silent, and then after awhile (which felt like forever) he finally patted the cushion beside him and passed me his iPod. And we sat there for like the longest time, just listening to music, and passing the earpiece back and forth.

And even though it was cool, and calm and really pretty nice, after awhile I started to get a little annoyed at how there I was, sitting right next to him, in my bikini, and all he wanted to do was listen to music by bands I’ve never even heard of! I mean, not to be stuck up or anything, but most guys are willing to drop way more than their iPods when I’m half naked and ready to go.

So finally, I just got up and left, thinking for sure he’d follow. Only he didn’t. And when I finally got over myself and went back in the den, he was gone. And after searching the entire house, I realized he really was gone. And I thought — screw him! But mostly I was feeling rejected. I mean, what’s with this guy? What’s with the whole mysterious Mr. Enigma act?

Anyway, I got changed, got myself together, and got myself home. And then later, just as I’m falling asleep, I see this flash in my window. Kind of like an SOS or something, even though I’m not really sure how that SOS flash signal really goes. But it seemed like a flashlight being turned off and on, slowly, with short spaces of darkness in between.

So, feeling kind of annoyed, and also kind of scared — I mean, was it aliens? Some psycho mass murderer? Because who does that? I got out of bed and headed for the window, moving the curtains just a tiny bit. And when I peeked through the narrow opening, I immediately grabbed my cell phone and started dialing 911. But then I looked again and I just couldn’t freaking believe what I saw. It’s like I seriously had to blink my eyes a whole bunch of times. I even rubbed them like you see in cartoons. But still, every time I opened them again, I saw the exact same thing.

So I creeped down the hall, and into Echo’s room, being careful not to wake her. Then I went out to her balcony, and gestured in a what~the-hell-do-you~want kind of way. But he just stood there, motioning for me to come down.

And I thought — No effin way! This guy is totally whacked and he’s probably planning to knock me out with his iPod Nano and drag me away, or something.

But then he kept waving, and then he smiled. So I grabbed hold of a branch, and made my way down the oak tree, just like I’d done a gazillion times before.

And when he met me at the bottom I asked, “What’re you, crazy?” And I tried to look mad and not scared like I really felt. I mean, it just then occurred to me how the front door was locked and how I’d never be able to get back up the tree in time, you know, in case I was in danger or something.

But he just looked at me and goes, “I forgot to play you this one song.”