Candy

1

{12 years before}

I don't want to be here.
I roll down my window, staring at the ominous building.
"Jordan, you realize you have to get out of the car, right?" My mom jokes.
I don't laugh.
"Jordan..." she says again.
I don't wait to be here.
I pick up my bag and get out without a word, slamming the door behind me.
"Have fun! Make friends!" My mom calls through the open window. I roll my eyes, even though she can't see me.
I don't want to be here.
I walk through the glass front doors, letting it slam shut behind me.
The carpet is a squishy royal blue, and the room is adorned with antique furniture made of mahogany. Why does this school look like the setting for an Audrey Hepburn movie?
I make my way through a maze of large corridors, all decorated in likeness to the lobby. I eventually come to a set of doors with a sign reading "AUDITIONS TODAY".
I pause a moment, looking through the small window in the door. There are about 40 people that I can see, all buzzing about the auditorium, talking to each other, all smiles, and practicing their lines. I bet they are all here because they want to be.
Taking a deep breath, I blow my blue bangs out of my face, hoping that the bright color will intimidate the director and keep him from casting me.
I push the door open forcefully, not missing a beat as it crashes into the wall, causing the entire room to silence. There is a desk set up on the stage with a professional looking woman shuffling through papers, seemingly not noticing my grand entrance. I stick out my chin, walking straight to the stage with determination. I stop once I reach the bottom of the steps leading to the stage. Turning to face the still silent room behind me, I clear my throat loudly and everyone returns to their previous occupation.
I turn back around, shaking my head, and climb the steps to the woman.
"Jordan?" The woman says without looking up.
I stay silent, popping my hip out to the side and jutting out my bottom lip.
The woman looks up.
"Well?" She says impatiently.
I nod at her.
"Nice to meet you too, sunshine," she says sarcastically. "I'm Miss Kate, the director. Your audition is scheduled for 5:30, so go ahead and take a seat somewhere."
I turn away without responding, bounding back down the steps. I look around for a place where there isn't many people and I see an empty area in the back corner. I make my way through the crowd.
I sit down, pulling out my phone to play music, when a boy with pink hair comes and sits next to me. I cringe internally, hoping he doesn't try to talk to me.
After a few minutes, he taps my shoulder. I shoot him a withering look, turning back around. Not ten seconds later, he taps me again. I rip my earbuds out, whisper-shouting, "What?"
He recoils a bit from my harsh tone, but quickly recovers, clearing his throat.
"What's your name?" He asks.
I ogle at him, wondering why he thought it was a good idea to talk to me. When my earbuds are in, that's a hint to screw off.
"I'm Carson," He offers, sticking out his hand for me to shake.
"Jordan," I snap, turning away from him.
I'm about to put my earbuds back in my ears when he taps me again.
"Dude, stop touching me!" I growl.
"Sorry," he says. "What are you listening to?"
"What?"
"What are you listening to?" Is this kid serious? Why won't he leave me alone?
I quickly flash my screen at him, hoping he gets the picture.
"Mayday Parade? I love them!" He says excitedly.
"Good for you," I return.
His face falls.
"Carson Miller?" Rings through the auditorium. The kid looks up towards the stage and lets out a sigh.
"I gotta go, see you later, Jordan," he says. And then I am alone.
I puff my bangs out of my face again, reclining into the uncomfortable seat.
I still have 30 minutes to wait, so I close my eyes and let the music flow through me.
"Jordan Malloy?"
I crack one eye open and see Miss Kate standing on the stage holding a clipboard. I put my earbuds away, taking my sweet time as I yawn and stretch. Miss Kate taps her foot irritably.
I make my way towards the stage. When I reach the edge, Miss Kate turns around and walks towards the wings. I trail behind her, having to take three steps for each one of hers.
We finally reach the door and she opens it, taking a step back to let me through. I saunter in, trying to look detached.
I really, really, don't want to be here.
Miss Kate takes a seat next to a man with brown hair and an older woman with graying hair.
"So, Jordan," the man says. "My name is Rodney and this-" he gestured to the old woman-" is Margret. Now, what do you have prepared for us today?"
I blink at him.
He furrows his brow. "You... you do have something, don't you?" He asks.
I just stare.
Miss Kate coughs and the Margret looks as if she's about to have cardiac arrest.
"Jordan, why don't you sing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?" Miss Kate says.
"Don't know the words," I snap.
"What about the alphabet song?" Margret suggests.
"Don't know it."
Miss Kate jumps up from her chair as if it had burned her, hurrying over to me. She grabs me by my sleeve and pulls me over.
"Listen up, sweetheart," she snarls quietly in my ear. "I don't know what your problem is, but I do know that you're here for community service, so you had better at least act like you're trying to keep out of Juvenile Hall, you hear me?"
I narrow my eyes and square my jaw as she settles back in her chair.
"Sing," she orders.
I clear my throat and sing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
Miss Kate nods at me, Rodney claps, and Margret is fast asleep.
They take a minute to discuss my performance and I rock back and forth on my heels, desperately hoping they hated me. Rodney looks up and me and nods at Miss Kate.
"We are going to cast you as Melissa."
"Who is Melissa?" I ask, dread filling my stomach.
"Melissa is the one the story line is focused on."
No. No no no.
No.
They start telling me the rehearsal schedule, but I zone out, nodding every once in a while to make it seem like I'm listening. I really just want to get out of here.
When they're done, I practically sprint out of the room, almost running into Carson in the hallway.
"Woah, sorry, didn't see you there," he says. "Oh, it's you! How'd your audition go?" he asks.
"Fine," I say, looking over his shoulder out the window where I can see my mom pulling into the parking lot.
"Cool, so, um, I guess I'll see you later then, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Did you get cast?" He asks.
I nod. "Melissa."
His jaw drops. "No way! I'm Mason!"
I look at him uncomprehendingly.
"I'm your character's boyfriend!"
My mouth falls open and I sputter out an abrupt goodbye as I dart out of the building, ignoring the confused boy calling my name. I run to my car and hop in, ignoring my mom when she asks how it went.
"Please, can we just go home?" I plead. My mom sighs and pulls out onto the road.
I cup my chin in my hand and gaze out the window at the changing trees of Maine's autumn.
Why would they cast me? I did everything in my power to keep them from liking me. I don't even know who Melissa is. Knowing the directors, they probably made her a preppy girl that obsesses over Twilight and Justin Bieber. Mason is probably the school jock, and Melissa's only problem in life is that the hot boy doesn't like her back.
I hate stories like that.
Those stories are fabricated out of bullcrap. Stories like that are told by people who have never encountered a serious issue in their life. I like stories that have a real problem that is solved in a realistic way, not a problem solved in a simple, convenient way and tied up with a big red bow. Big red bows are full of lies.
I like stories I can relate to. Stories about screwed up people.
"Honey, did you get a part?" My mother asks.
I nod halfheartedly.
She looks over at me, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. She lifts a brow at me.
"Igotthemaincharacter," I rush out.
Mom slams on the brakes, earning a few angry honks and middle fingers from rude drivers swerving around her. She swallows loudly and accelerates again, nodding her head.
"The main part," she says.
I nod.
"You."
"Yes...?"
"You got the main part in a play."
I scoff at her.
Then she busts out in the loudest laughter I have ever heard.
"That is so hilarious!" She squeals, tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard.
I roll my eyes and turn back to looking out the window. It's a few more minutes before my mom is able to compose herself.
"I'm sorry, honey," she laughs, wiping her eyes. "It's just so funny!"
"Why is that so funny?" I ask, offended.
"I just think it's hilarious how you didn't even want to be in this play and now you have the lead character!"
I roll my eyes once again.
"You're an idiot," I mutter under my breath.
And just like that, Mom is gone, and Mother is back.
"Do not speak to me like that young lady!" She says forcefully, suddenly gripping the steering wheel.
I sigh.
"Do not give me any type of attitude. You got yourself into this mess because you did so many sinful things. I mean, what normal teenager sells drugs to nine year olds? And steals from stores!" She slows to a stop at the red light, resting her head on the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry, mother."
"What am I going to do with you, Jordan? I've done everything possible to keep you out of trouble, but you keep digging yourself back into the same mess. I love you so much it hurts, it hurts to see you hurt yourself like this!" My mother moans.
I sigh deeply, choosing to keep my mouth shut because the next few words out of my mouth would have gotten me into a lecture.
My mother pulls into our driveway after an eternity, and I stay in the car long after she gets out, just staring at the place I'm supposed to call home.
The pale yellow shutters slam against the windows and leaves spiral through the air. There is meant to be a storm tonight. Storms usually mean I stay in my room watching movies and drinking hot chocolate and pretending I have friends.
With a deep sigh, I shove the door of the car open and sling my backpack over my shoulder. When I spin around to shut my door, all of my papers and notebooks spill onto the driveway. I curse under my breath, bending down to pick up my things. I pull them toward me in a wide sweeping motion and blow my electric bangs out of my face.
"Need some help?" Says a quiet voice behind me.
I turn my head and look over my shoulder.
A girl with faded green hair stands with her hands in her pockets. Staring at the ground, she looks so shy I almost think I imagined the voice.
She reaches up and fluffs her bangs, letting her hair fall into her face, and clears her throat weakly.
"I- um... I said do you need some h-help?" She stutters, averting her eyes to look anywhere but at me. I squint my eyes at her. She starts to turn away, embarrassed.
"Sure," I almost whisper. "Thank you."
In a millisecond, her head snaps back to me in shock. Her lips form an 'O' as she hurries over to me, dropping on her knees and beginning to collect my pencils.
She hands them to me so gently, you would think she thought they were glass. I cradle my things in my arms as we stand, pausing to size each other up.
Her mint hair falls into her hazel eyes, which still refuse to look directly at me. Her face is free of makeup, and she has a simple silver nose ring. She has pretty good taste in clothing; a Paramore tour shirt over ripped skinny jeans with black converse.
"Nice shirt," she says so quietly and quickly I almost don't hear her.
"Oh, thanks," I reply, pulling my shirt out in front of me to see what I'm wearing.
"You like Fall Out Boy?" I say after seeing it's a Save Rock and Roll tour shirt.
She nods slowly.
"I love that band! I also like Paramore," I say, pointing at her shirt. She smiles.
"I'm Jordan, who are you?" I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
The sound of the front door opening makes us turn around, and my mother is standing in the doorway with her hand on her hip.
Her hand quickly drops when she realizes I'm talking to someone, and she tries to cover it up by smoothing her dress. She daintily pats her hair and steps out of the house, closing the door behind her.
"Jordan, who's this?" She says, gripping my arm tightly. I clench my jaw and put on a fake smile.
I turn back to the girl.
"C-Charlotte," she stutters.
"Well nice to meet you, Charlotte!" My mother exclaims, engulfing Charlotte in a bear hug.
"You too, Missus..." Charlotte says.
"Miss," my mom says. "Miss Malloy, but you can call me Madeline. Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Charlotte looks at me in a panic. "I- I don't want to intrude..." she stammers.
"Oh it's not an intrusion at all, right, Jordan?" My mom low-key jabs my side.
"Right." I say shortly, gritting my teeth.
Charlotte glances behind her. "Okay, sure."
I follow Mom and Charlotte into the house. My mom leads us into the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in an hour, why don't you two go hang out?" she says. I roll my eyes before moving up the stairs. I flop down in my bean bag chair and grab a bag of chips from the floor next to me. I grab a handful and hold out the bag to Charlotte.
"What kind?" she asks.
"Salt and Vinegar."
The bag is snatched out of my hand, and is empty within seconds. Eyes wide, I tentatively took the now empty bag from her hand and balance on top of my precarious garbage heap.
"So you like salt in vinegar, Charlie?" I laugh. She nods, embarrassed, when suddenly her embarrassment is replaced with shock.
"What?" I say.
"You called me Charlie."
"Oh, I'm sorry, do you not like that? I won't do it again."
"No, it's fine," she says, waving a hand across her face. "I've just never had someone call me that before."
We sit in silence for a few seconds.
"You're like, really pretty," she says before slapping a hand across her mouth. "I-I'm sorry, is that weird?" she asks in a rush.
"No no! It's totally fine," I tell her. "You're super pretty too. Can I maybe do your makeup?"
She hesitantly agrees and I direct her to my vanity. Her face is pretty clear, other than the freckles dotting her nose. However, I take care to line her eyes in black eyeliner, making sure not to smudge it before adding mascara. I lightly fill in her eyebrows, trying to ignore the hairs that need to be plucked. When I mention them to her, she tells me she's never done it before.
I gasp before dragging her into the bathroom. Five minutes and a few burst ear drums later, I drag her back into my bedroom.
"Okay, sit in the vanity chair," I say, turning away from her to turn on my straightening iron.
She sits down, looking as if she's fighting off tears.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine... I've just never had a friend like you before," she says in a hushed voice.
"We're friends?" I gape. Her eyes become as wide as saucers and she starts to apologize.
"No, no, Charlie, I didn't mean it like that. I've never had a real friend either. I was just surprised is all," I interject.
Charlie smiles at me before turning around in the chair so I can straighten her hair. When I'm finally finished, I make her cover her eyes as we head into the bathroom.
"You can open your eyes when I say 'three'", I say. She nods, and I count to three.
She removes her hands from over her eyes, and I can tell she's never done her makeup or her hair by the way she immediately covers her mouth in shock.
"You like?" I say, suddenly worried she won't like it.
She nods. "I love!"
I squeal, jumping up and down while clapping my hands. I pull Charlie into bear hug, and she stiffens for a nanosecond before hugging me back.
"Girls?" Calls a muffled voice. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah!" Charlie and I shout in unison.
"Dinner is served!"
We scramble down the stairs and into the kitchen, almost running into my mother as she carries a bowl to the table.
"Woah! Careful, girls!" My mother screeches.
Once the table is completely set, the three of us sit down, my mother at the head of the table, me and Charlie next to each other. My mother, as always, does not have one hair out of place on her pretty head.
The table is filled with silence, aside from the clanking of plates and chewing.
"So," my mother says after a few minutes. "Where are you from, Charlotte?"
Charlie looks down at her lap, folding her napkin neatly across her legs.
"I just moved into a house down the street."
"Oh!" My mother says pleasantly. "Where did you move from?"
I clear my throat. "How was your day, Mother?"
My mother shoots a glare at me before turning back to Charlie.
"What school will you be attending in September, Charlotte?" She tries.
"Ridge Hill High," Charlie replies.
I smile at her and tell her that that is where I go.
"That's where Jordan goes!" My mother exclaims happily. "Are you a senior this year?"
Charlie nods, taking another bite of chicken.
After that, there is silence until my mothers chair screeches as she stands. She leaves the table without a word, and me and Charlie glance at each other before cleaning up the table and going upstairs with the cups of hot cocoa my mom set out.
She flops onto my bed and I ask her "What time to you need to be home?"
She shrugs. "My mom probably won't even notice I'm gone. She's really stressed about the move."
I hum in reply.
I clear my throat, awkwardly patting my thighs. "So..." I say.
"What do you want to do?" I ask.
She answers with a loud 'NETFLIX'. I laugh before grabbing the remote to my TV.
"What to watch, what to watch..." I sigh, scrolling through page after page of suggestions on Netflix.
"Stop!" Charlie yells suddenly, practically leaping off of the bed. "Go back up!" I scroll back up and she tells me to pause again.
"Skins!" She says.
"What?"
"Skins!" She says again. "It's like the best show ever! Please, Jordan, we have to watch it!"
I select the title before grabbing my hot cocoa and snuggling into my pillows. For the next few hours, we laugh and obsess over how cute Nicholas Hoult is, as rain beats on my window. Once the ninth episode ends, I reach over to play the next one when I notice that Charlie has fallen asleep, her head resting on the window next to my bed. I smile before reaching over and taking her phone off of her lap. She has a text from her mother, so I click 'reply' and type out a quick message.

hey mom, I'm spending the night at a girls house down the the street, is that okay?

There's a reply within seconds.

Be home for dinner tomorrow.

I grin, lightly pushing Charlie over until she falls against my pillows. She stirs, wrapping her arms around a throw pillow.
I set her phone on the side table, turn off the light, and go to sleep.

--

"Charlie, wake up."
She mumbles in her sleep before cracking open one eye at me.
"What time is it?" She slurs.
"Noon." I giggle.
She sits up quickly. "Crap, my mom doesn't know where I am..."
"No, I texted her last night."
Charlie tenses. "You did what?!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"
"It's fine," she huffs, before leaning over and beginning to play with my hair.
"What time do I have to be home?" She asks after a few minutes.
"Dinner."
He eyes grow wide.
"What?" I ask. She shakes her head, claiming its nothing.
We hang out for a few more hours listening to music and eating junk food until, around five, she decides to head home.
I accompany her out into the driveway, and she gives me a tight hug before jogging down the sidewalk. I watch her run until she gets a few houses away.
"Bye, Charlie!" I call, cupping my mouth.
"Bye, Jay!" she calls back over her shoulder.
I sigh as I watch her green hair disappear around the corner.
I have lived on this street my entire life. Same house, same neighbors, same routine, 17 years. I have come across so many people in my life, and few have ever impacted me. But never in all of my life have I ever met someone so easy to read, but so hard to understand.