Ask Again Later

by Liz Czukas

  “But I’m not a nun,” I insisted. “I’ve . . . been interested in plenty of guys.”

  “Name one.”

  “Johnny Depp.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, me too. How about someone human?”

  I gasped. “Johnny is totally human. I will not have you talking smack about my man.”

  “Okay, someone achievable.” Ryan stretched out, resting his elbows on the step above us and letting his legs lay along the next three steps below us.

  A flash of Schroeder flitted through my mind. “All right. Paul West.”

  He frowned in thought. “The one who graduated two years ago?”

  “Yes. Him.”

  “And nobody else.”

  I hesitated, pretending to listen when the music changed downstairs as a cover. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Who?”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I said, “You first.”

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “We are now.” I grinned at him.

  He glared at me, waiting for me to cave, but he would have been waiting for a long, long time. I could hold out with the best of ’em. “Honestly? I think Neel is . . . attractive.”

  “Attractive?” I echoed, giggling. “You make it sound like he’s a piece of furniture.”

  “I’m new at this, okay? I don’t talk about it out loud.” He wiped his forehead nervously.

  “There’s your trouble. Because Neel’s one of the people I was talking about.”

  “You mean . . .”

  “You couldn’t tell?”

  Ryan’s face went still. “Unlike some people, I don’t make assumptions about people based on their behavior.”

  “Ouch!” I put both hands over my heart. “All right, I get it. I’m being judgmental. I apologize, O great enlightened one who doesn’t want anyone to know he might think guys are hot.”

  Before I knew what he was doing, Ryan swung his arm around my neck and pulled me into a headlock. I squealed, laughing and pushing against him, but my attempts were weak with laughter.

  “Say uncle,” he commanded.

  “No!” I laughed.

  He tightened his grip. “Say it!”

  “Never!”

  “Say, ‘Ryan was right, and I should have listened to him!’”

  “No!”

  “Say, ‘I have the hots for Chase Schaefer but I won’t admit it.’”

  “Ack! Shut up!” I gave a final push, and he let me go. My pin curls were stuck to my eyelashes and lips when I sat up and I gave him a crabby look.

  He laughed. “Oh man, we are quite a pair, Heart.”

  Huffing hair out of my face, I sighed. “If you mean totally pathetic, then, yeah, I agree.”

  HEADS

  In the brief pause between songs from the system around back, I heard crickets playing their buggy music. Blanchard’s yard was probably a real oasis when it wasn’t full of teenagers, I thought.

  “Ryan, I’m so sorry I didn’t say yes to you. I really should have. This night has been horrible.”

  “Well . . . yeah, you definitely should have said yes to me.” He laughed. “But if it’s any consolation, I’ve had a great time. In fact”—he leaned back on his hands—“I may have you to thank for some very interesting developments.”

  “Neel?” I said softly.

  His cheeks turned red. “So that you noticed, but you’re totally oblivious to Chase’s raging crush on you?”

  Now it was my turn to blush. “Your point?”

  He laughed. “So. What are you going to do about this information now that you have it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to turn down a friend before. Not like I had to do to you, I mean.”

  “Who says you have to turn him down?”

  “I—” I wanted to answer “I do,” but the truth was, no one was saying I had to do anything. And even though I would have probably gagged putting it into words, there was a little part of me that didn’t want to turn him down. It had a lot to say, that little part. I growled in frustration. “Why did this have to happen tonight?”

  Ryan shrugged. “It’s prom.”

  TAILS

  Ryan slid closer when I sat up and put his arms around me—nicely this time—and rested his head on top of mine. “So, what do we do now?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I can’t even get Schroeder to talk to me anymore. He just keeps walking away.”

  “Maybe you should tie him up to a flagpole.”

  “And leave him for dead?”

  He laughed. “No. I’m just saying he couldn’t move that way.”

  “True.”

  “But then you might run away.”

  A soft laugh slipped from my lips. “I won’t deny that’s a possibility. So, maybe I’m hopeless then. What should we do about you and Neel?”

  “Just because you put two gay guys in the same high school does not mean they’ll be a couple.”

  “Oh.” There I was, making assumptions again. I sighed. “Sorry. Prom is making me crazy.”

  HEADS

  “Schroeder said prom was out to get me.”

  “He did?”

  “Well, not really. He said I shouldn’t let prom win.”

  “How’s that working out for you so far?”

  “Oh, fantastic. My date is unconscious somewhere, my dress is ripped open, my brother is being a total douche-canoe, and I just found out that Chase Schaefer has a crush on me. Oh, and he’s pissed at me.”

  “Eh. Chase’ll come around. He’s just dumb.”

  I sighed, tipping my head back to look for stars. “About the only thing that hasn’t happened to me is becoming the victim of a psycho killer.”

  Ryan burst into surprised laughter. “What?”

  “You know, all those slasher flicks? Everybody dies on prom night.”

  “I thought that was only for slutty girls.” He ground his knuckle into my shoulder.

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “It’s true. The good girls get taken prisoner.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t worry, though, they get rescued by the cops at the end.”

  “So, if I do get kidnapped and stuffed in the trunk of a serial killer’s car, I shouldn’t worry, because I’m a virgin?”

  He grinned. “Exactly.”

  I gave him a shove. “Well, then you don’t need to worry either.”

  “Tragic, but true.” He sighed. “Come on, let’s go find some other people. Be social. Try to stop being so pathetic.”

  “Actually, I think I need to talk to Schroeder again. If he’ll let me.”

  “Maybe you need to tie him to a flagpole or something.” He grinned.

  “Yeah, or maybe stuff him in a trunk.”

  We laughed, and I took his offered hand, letting him pull me up, and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, Ryan. You’re, like, the coolest guy I ever didn’t go to prom with when I had the chance.”

  TAILS

  Suddenly, Ryan straightened up. “I have an idea.”

  “For what?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. Just—wait here.”

  26 In which I throw beer at my brother and learn secrets

  HEADS

  Looking for Schroeder had proven useless. The party seemed suddenly more crowded when I came in from the front steps. Always at least ten people between me and where I wanted to go—I couldn’t see more than three feet in front of me. The lines outside all four of the bathrooms I came across were ridiculous, so I didn’t think he’d managed to escape into one of them, but I couldn’t know that for sure.

  I didn’t even know why exactly I was trying to find him, since I had no clue what I’d say when I found him. All I knew was that I’d hurt him, and I needed to fix it.

  Frustration had my teeth clenched and tears pricking at the backs of my eyes as I searched. The last thing I wanted to do was cry again tonight, but it was starting to seem inevitable. It wasn’t just Schroeder I couldn’t find—it s
eemed like the entire No Drama Crew had disappeared. There wasn’t even a sign of Ryan, who I’d just left on the front steps before beginning this stupid search.

  So much for my grand escape plan. Schroeder had probably convinced them to leave without me. Quel désastre.

  I decided to try back outside, and used an exit off the kitchen to start in the garage. There was a Ping-Pong table there, and I found Phil standing nearby, having a beer-chugging contest with Doug. I waited until he was done—he lost, incidentally—to ask if he’d seen any of my friends.

  He laughed. “No.”

  “Damn it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose against the threat of tears.

  “They ditch you?” He laughed again.

  “I don’t know. But could you help me look for them?”

  “I’m a little busy here.” He made a drinking motion at Doug and said, “Let’s go again. I can take your pansy ass.”

  “Yeah, right,” Doug said.

  “Phil, please.” I tugged on his sleeve.

  “Christ, Heart! Lay off!”

  I drew back, startled. “Jeez! Sorry.”

  “You’ve been whining at me all night!” He took a beer from Doug’s outstretched hand. “I don’t know why the fuck I even let Troy bring you.”

  Suddenly my frustration coalesced into anger, and for the first time all night, it had a single focus. “You let Troy bring me?” I repeated. “Excuse me? Didn’t you just hand me over to him like property?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna pull your feminist crap on me, are you?”

  “Oh my God. That is so not the point. You’re the one rewriting history—”

  He completely ignored me, looking at Doug and cracking his beer. “Ready? Three, two, one—” The can of beer went up to his lips.

  I stared at him in shock through three swallows, then swatted the can away from his face, sending beer spiraling across both of us like a sprinkler. Doug burst into laughter, spraying more beer onto us. The people who’d been watching the contest cheered. Idiots.

  “What the fuck?” Phil snapped, glaring at me.

  “Yeah, exactly!” I shouted. “What the fuck kind of brother are you?”

  “What is your problem?”

  “You!” I poked him in the chest. “You’ve been a complete dick to me all night. No, not just tonight. You’re a dick to me all the time! And I’m done.” I picked up an empty aluminum can from the Ping-Pong table and threw it at him. It bounced off his left shoulder and spun wildly in the air before clanking to the floor. “Next time you speak to me, it better be to apologize. Otherwise you can just save your breath.”

  And with that, I whirled and forced my way through the gathering crowd until I burst out onto the driveway. Quickly darting around the corner, I pressed my back to the brick wall of the garage, glad no one was there to see me.

  I was shaking. All over. I couldn’t tell if it was a good, relieved kind of shaking, or the oh-no-I’ve-really-done-it-now kind. I pushed harder into the bricks, trying to remember how to breathe.

  I’d never said anything like that to Phil. No matter how many times he’d teased me, or treated me like a second-class citizen just because I didn’t want to be a cheerleader. Those times had always seemed like something I had to deal with to get the other times. Like when we’d joke together while making dinner, or all the hours we’d spent watching game shows together. That was the real Phil—wasn’t it?

  Another breath came out like a gasp.

  This deep-breathing business was getting me nowhere. I pressed a hand to my mouth and tried to think what to do next. As far as I knew, my friends had already left, and I’d alienated my only other ride home.

  Not the sharpest crayon in the box tonight, Heart.

  Now seemed like a good time to let those frustrated tears have their way. I let my head thump back into the brick wall and closed my eyes. From the backyard, the distant sounds of laughter and splashing told me the pool and hot tub were no longer just being used for a little wading.

  Then I heard my name. “Heart?” a female voice called.

  I opened my eyes on an unexpected sight. It was Tara calling me, but Phil was with her. She had him by the ear, her fingers pinched around the sensitive cartilage like a giant earring.

  “Heart?” she called again.

  I was so startled, I stepped forward. “I’m here.”

  “Oh, thank God.” She came closer, dragging Phil. “Your brother has something to say to you.”

  “Ow!” he protested. “Would you ease up?”

  “No.” She gave him a yank, torquing his head down to my level, but awkwardly angled. “Now, what do you have to say?”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “You don’t sound very sorry.” She twisted her wrist, and he flinched.

  “All right, all right! I’m sorry!”

  “What for?” Tara prompted.

  “For being a dick to you, Heart.”

  “Good boy.” She released his ear and he straightened up quickly, rubbing his ear and giving her a peevish look. “Now go sober up.”

  Phil looked like he wanted to say something to her, but thought better of it and went back toward the garage.

  “Are you okay?” Tara asked me, squinting into the dark where I was still half-hidden.

  “I’m fine. What the heck was that?”

  She clicked her tongue. “I heard what happened in there. Nice touch knocking the beer out of his hand, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but your brother can be kind of a jerk when he’s drinking.”

  “Mmm,” I said, because I didn’t want to tell her that he was sometimes a jerk when he was sober, too.

  “I’m trying to fix it, but . . .” She shrugged. “What can I say? He’s a slow learner.”

  “Why do you stay with him if you don’t like the way he is?”

  She sighed. “I love him. Don’t ask me to explain.”

  “But why?” I felt disloyal, considering he was family, but I had to know.

  Tara leaned against the wall beside me, looking out at the shadows of the trees in the side yard. “Because there’s another side to him. And that side’s pretty great.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. He’s so much smarter than he lets on.”

  “Do you know he’s really good at trivia?” I asked.

  She laughed. “I’ve noticed. And did you know he wants to be a teacher?”

  “What?” Phil was about as child-oriented as a poisonous houseplant. As long as they left him alone, he wouldn’t kill them. I could not resolve the guy who chugged beer with a teacher crouched in front of a group of five-year-olds reading a storybook in a soothing voice.

  “He actually wants to be a coach. Like for high school football, but he knows he’ll probably have to teach, too.”

  I blinked at her. That made a little more sense, but . . . “Seriously?”

  “I know. See? He’s a good guy. When he wants to be.”

  “And when he doesn’t want to be, you just drag him around by the ear.”

  “Pretty much.” She laughed.

  “Doesn’t that get tiring?”

  “Sometimes.” She tilted her head. “Tonight, yeah.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself with a sigh. “Boys suck.”

  “That they do,” Tara agreed, sounding like it was the kind of annoyance a person just had to put up with. “Which boy sucks for you?”

  “Schroeder.” It didn’t occur to me to call him by his actual name, but Tara nodded like she knew who I meant.

  “And why does he suck?”

  “Apparently he likes me.”

  “The bastard!” she gasped, dropping her jaw in mock horror. Why must everyone make fun of me?

  “I know it’s a little weird.” I held up my hand to ward off further antics on her part.

  Light dawned in Tara’s eyes. “Ah! You’re not interested in him.”

  “It’s no
t that.”

  “So you are?”

  I shook my head, even as the back of my neck prickled with nerves. “I don’t know. I don’t really do that.”

  “What? Be interested in people?” And there was that old familiar, what-is-wrong-with-you look I saw every time my no-dating thing had come up over the years.

  “Yeah,” I said shortly.

  Tara laughed until she saw I was serious. “Oh, come on, you must have some idea if you like this guy or not.”

  “I try not to think about things like that.”

  “Aha! You said ‘try.’ That means you don’t always succeed. So you obviously already know the answer.”

  My pulse pounded in my ears. I wanted to deny it so badly, but the heat in my cheeks and the sweat on my palms proved it impossible. Even though she couldn’t see me very well in the shadows, I knew I’d be lying if I said she was wrong.

  She obviously took my silence for agreement, because she said, “So, what’s the problem, then?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always is.” Tara shrugged. “Just do yourself a favor and don’t fall for one who needs as much work as your brother.”

  27 Wherein my friends pursue a life of crime, and I learn about sensory deprivation

  TAILS

  I stayed at the top of the stairs, just like Ryan had told me to. Not because I was obedient or anything like that. I just didn’t have anywhere else to be. Weirdly, the volume of the music seemed to be going up even as there was less traffic coming by. It took me a bit to figure out there were probably fewer people in the house to absorb the noise. How long had I been sitting here?

  Finally, I walked to the bottom of the steps and took a look around, reasoning that Ryan would still be able to find me. There wasn’t much to see, frankly. The makeshift dance floor in the living room was sparsely populated, mostly with girls who seemed to be running on a reserve of sheer willpower. The dining room was empty, and the hallway looked like the aftermath of an explosion at a high heel factory, but that was about it.

  I ventured to the front door, easing it open to do a quick search for Ryan in the front yard, when a commotion near the garage caught my attention. I stepped onto the porch for a better look.