After class I gave Sydney a high five. Then she gave me a hug. I don’t know if it was a just-friendly-teammates hug or something else, but it sure felt good.
Then after that, Robby Poloski tapped me in the hallway and goes, “Nice job, Storky.” I gave him my Vin Diesel look, which I’ve only done before in the privacy of my own bathroom mirror. I said, “The name’s Mike. Or Michael to you.” As they say en espanol, I got cajones.
Friday, February 25
Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man. I can’t even write about this. The whole day all I’ve been thinking is, Oh, man.
Saturday, February 26
I think I can write about it now. But let me just write Oh, man one more time. Oh, man.
Okay, here’s what happened. Yesterday morning we were all downstairs getting ready for school. I was pouring out my Froot Loops, and Mom and Amanda were packing their lunches. Amanda asks her why she doesn’t drink coffee anymore. Mom says she buys it at school now. Then Amanda asks her why she doesn’t wear jeans anymore, and Mom says she gained some weight. Then Amanda asks why she gained weight. Mom says she was eating too much. Then Amanda goes, “It seems like all you ever eat these days is licorice and saltines.” Mom says, “What are you getting at?” Then Amanda says, “I’m getting at that you got yourself knocked up.”
Then I dropped the milk carton. It was nearly full. Almost a half gallon of milk all over the floor. Me and Mom went nuts trying to clean it up, getting out the mop and sponges and paper towels. Meanwhile, Amanda just leaned against the fridge, going, “It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t believe you didn’t use birth control.”
I felt like I was in a bad dream or a trance. It was too bizzotic to be true. I stared at Mom’s stomach, and she didn’t look pregnant. I thought, Maybe she’s not. Maybe she’ll say Amanda’s crazy.
But Mom started crying while she mopped. She’s like, “Howard and I were going to sit you both down and talk about it,” and Amanda goes, “I heard you puking again yesterday. How dumb do you think I am?”
Then I realized I must be dumb, since I figured she had menopause. I didn’t ever imagine her getting pregnant. She’s 40. 40½, actually. And I don’t want to think about how she got knocked up.
Amanda said we had to go so we wouldn’t be late for school. I never got to eat breakfast. She didn’t even finish packing her lunch. I didn’t talk to Mom about it yesterday morning, since Amanda was my ride. I couldn’t speak anyway, being like in total shock.
The whole way there Amanda went, “I knew it, I knew it” while I just slumped in my seat, saying, Oh, man to myself about a million times.
BAD THINGS ABOUT MOM BEING PREGNANT 1. Every time I look at Mom, I’ll have to picture her having sex.
2. If anyone at school sees her in a few months, they’ll know she had sex.
3. Nate will laugh at me.
4. If Mom goes into labor when I’m around, I might have to help her and see her privates.
5. I won’t be able to turn Amanda’s room into a TV room. It’ll be full of cutesy baby stuff and dirty diapers.
6. If Mom has a girl, then I’ll really be surrounded by them.
7. Verm will be over all the time.
8. Verm might never come over again.
GOOD THINGS ABOUT MOM BEING PREGNANT None.
Sunday, February 27
Finally got a reaction from Dad. Not a good one, but something. Progress, I guess.
He was only 22 minutes late tonight. After he picked me up, he got Miss Fabulous at her house. Actually a dinky apartment she shares with this other actress. She brought a little pink suitcase with her. It’s bad enough I have to think about Mom having sex. Now I have to think about Dad doing it too. He made me sit in the backseat, even though I’m like 9 inches taller than Miss Fabulous and get squished.
I couldn’t wait to tell him about Mom. I don’t know why. Maybe so he’d know she’s moving on. That she’s not the sob queen she was when they divorced. Maybe I wanted to burn him too. Let him picture Mom doing it with another guy. Maybe it was just so I could tell someone. I don’t know.
I didn’t even do a buildup. Just shocked him with it at the Belgian restaurant. “Dad. Mom’s pregnant.” He was sipping Evian water, and it spilled all over his hand and into his leek soup. I should have waited until he drank his red wine.
He goes, “Are you sure?” I couldn’t help smirking. I said, “Do you think she’d have any reason to lie about it?” He didn’t answer, so I asked if he was okay. He had to clear his throat before he could say, “Of course I’m okay.” The water still dripping from his hand definitely gave him away. Seeing Dad all upset was almost worth Mom getting pregnant.
No, it wasn’t.
Monday, February 28
Mom and Dr. Vermin have it all planned out. Everything’s settled. Verm came over to discuss it tonight. Except it wasn’t a discussion. It was an explanation. It wasn’t even that. It was a briefing.
They never once asked me what I thought of all this. I’m getting a stepdad and a half-sister or -brother, and it’s all supposed to be this wonderful thing. Mom goes, “I’ll take a year off from law school so you’ll get to see me more.” Like what a wonderful treat. And it’s supposed to be so wonderful to go to their wonderful wedding in the wonderful spring.
When people tell you something will be wonderful, when they sound like an infomercial trying to convince you of it, then you know it won’t be wonderful. That it’ll suck.
Amanda’s pissed too. She called Mom and Verm sleaze-balls, and ran up to her room. At least Amanda gets to escape to college this fall. Me, I’ll be living here another 3 years and 5½ months, in this wonderful house with all these wonderful people I never asked for, ever.
Wednesday, March 2
Duke doesn’t think it’s wonderful, but he pointed out some positives. He says babies are chick bait. He didn’t say it that way. He goes, “Gals flock to young men holding babies like a drunk to Robitussin.” Supposedly if I take the baby to school during cheerleading practice, the girls will be flipping and jumping all over me. He also said he hopes the baby turns out just like me. I told him I wouldn’t wish my hair on anybody.
Duke said he wished he’d had children, because then he wouldn’t be stuck at Golden Village, eating crummy food and playing gin rummy with a bunch of geezers every day. Being so old must totally bite. We’re both stuck living with people that bug, but at least I get out of the house most days. I’m taking him to a Padres game when I get my license. Even though he keeps killing me at Scrabble.
Friday, March 4
Aunt Marsha came over tonight with her new girlfriend. Not a total hottie like her old one, but pretty cute. She’s got good taste in women.
They were all over Mom, rubbing her stomach, giving her these teas that are supposed to help morning sickness, acting like it’s so great to be pregnant when you’re 40½ and not even married. That’s why I’m in my bedroom typing this lame journal instead of downstairs eating ice cream with everyone else.
I thought if anyone would know how not wonderful it all is, it would be Aunt Marsha. Even Nate says it’s not so bad. He thinks it’s funny. Yeah, easy for him to laugh.
Maybe he could live here and I could go live with Nate’s mom at his house. I know his mom’s an alky, but at least she already had menopause so she can’t wind up pregnant. But their house is so smoky. Anyway, Mom would never let me.
Sunday, March 6
I guess Grandma’s on my team about all this. Not exactly a good thing.
When she came over for dinner tonight, Mom and Vermin told her the wonderful news. Grandma said some mean stuff that I never thought of, like if Mom gets remarried, Dad won’t have to pay her alimony anymore. And how Mom will be almost 60 when the baby graduates from high school. And how she wasted 2 years in law school because she’ll never work as a lawyer now.
Mom said in this wimpy voice that she hoped to graduate and work part-time, and that Vermin would cut back his dental practice to help out. Bu
t Grandma just rolled her eyes and gave a huge sigh. Huge meaning it practically depleted her body of all air. I’m glad she’s not my mother.
Mom started crying. It’s weird how she acts like a little kid around Grandma. Of course she cries a lot these days anyway. I guess she’s got it pretty bad, with Grandma yelling at her, and her kids pissed off, and barfing all the time.
Tuesday, March 8
This is really sick. But I can’t help thinking about it. Nate says you can tell when Verm and Mom did the deed by counting back 8½ months from the due date. So being a perv, and good at math, I counted.
They made the baby right on New Year’s Eve. The night I said it was okay for Vermin to sleep over. I did it. I mean, not really. They did it, of course, but if I hadn’t been Captain Sensitive about Verm sleeping over, they’d never be getting married and having a baby and ruining my life.
I bet they kept all the condoms or whatever at Verm’s condo. They probably figured Mom wouldn’t get knocked up just from one time at our house without protection. Didn’t they ever take sex ed in school? They should give a talk at the middle school about how they messed up their lives by not using a condom.
Wednesday, March 9
The “Spring Flings the Thing” posters are driving me crazy. The student council people plastered them all over school today. I just want to walk around with a marker, putting apostrophes in the word Flings. This makes me either very sensitive or a complete nutjob. I bet no one else even noticed the apostrophe problem.
Should I ask Sydney to the Spring Fling? Nate says I should. He thinks she’s totally into me. I don’t know.
CONS 1. At this point in my pathetic life, the last thing I need is her turning me down.
2. I’m broke.
3. I haven’t danced with anyone since December, when I went to Aunt Marsha’s.
4. I still have bad memories of the Snowball.
PROS 1. At this point in my pathetic life, what I need is a date with Sydney Holland.
2. I could earn $8 an hour this weekend.
3. I practiced dancing a few weeks ago in front of Amanda’s mirror when no one was home. Thought I was pretty good.
4. Maybe I could finally kiss a girl.
Verm wants to hire me and Nate on Saturday to help him clean up his condo. He has to get it ready for the big open house so he can sell it, move in with us, and destroy my life.
Nate really wants the money. I could use the $8 an hour, but I don’t want to hang with Verm all day. Plus, by getting his place cleaned up I’d be helping him shack up with Mom. Something really creepy about that.
Thursday, March 10
After being up from 1:46 A.M. to 4:18 A.M., and talking to Nate during lunch, I made 2 decisions. One, I’m asking Sydney to the Spring Fling. I’m tired of being a wuss. Two, I’ll help Verm with his stupid condo on Saturday. Just for the money so I can pay for the dance.
Now, how do I ask her? Great. Figuring that out will probably keep me awake again tonight.
Saturday, March 12
Earned $52 today. Me and Nate spent 6½ hours cleaning Verm’s condo. We had to straighten out his garage, pack all these boxes for Goodwill, wash the windows, everything. Verm’s a real slob. Not like Dad the Neatfreak. At least Verm won’t be after me and Amanda all the time to clean up our stuff. I hope not, anyway.
Didn’t find much real interesting. No Playboys or ladies’ clothes or anything. He had a box full of bowling trophies that we tossed. Leafed through his high school yearbook. I was right, he was a real geek back then. He had short hair cut above his ears when everyone else had long hair. Plus he was in the honor society and the science club.
One thing I really wish I hadn’t seen is Verm’s bed. It’s a waterbed. Now I have to think of them sloshing around in it all the time. Gross!
Sunday, March 13
Duke had a stroke.
He looks horrible. Someone from Golden Village called me this morning, and Mom took me to the hospital, and he was just lying there, not moving, hooked up to all these machines like a fly caught in a spiderweb.
He never wanted to be like that. He said to shoot him if that ever happened. I sat next to his bed staring at him, thinking, I don’t know how to use a gun and I’m not even sure how to get one. When it comes down to it, I doubt I could kill anyone anyway.
I started crying, and Mom gave me this huge hug. I said, “I don’t want to crush the baby,” but she said it was okay. I felt like a little boy. For the first time in a long time, I was so glad Mom was around.
I told her Duke didn’t want to live like this, lying in a hospital bed all wired up to machines. Then she showed me the Do Not Resuscitate order hanging from his bed. So if his heart stops, they won’t shock him with those paddles or anything like on ER. They’ll just let him die. I guess he got everything set up before he had the stroke. He’s so smart. Was so smart?
He never opened his eyes the whole time we were there. I guess that’s good, because I could barely look at his face. I felt almost embarrassed for him, lying there being stared at.
Mom kissed him on the cheek, but that was too weird for me. When she went out to find a bathroom, I gave his shoulder a pat and said how much I appreciated his advice on Scrabble and other stuff. Then I started crying again, so I just stood there gripping his shoulder until Mom got back.
Visiting Duke today was probably the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. I don’t want to think of him in that spiderweb bed. I just want to picture him putting a 7-letter word down on the Scrabble board with that big obnoxious smile on his face.
Felt so bad, I canceled on Dad. I had to explain who Duke was. Dad called me Champ when I told him what happened. He said not to worry. Right.
Monday, March 14
Nate’s a good friend and all, but he doesn’t understand about Duke. He keeps telling me I’d better ask Sydney to the Spring Fling before anyone else does. I guess he doesn’t realize how bummed I am, that I can’t act all macho and stuff with Sydney and plan out what to say to her when I keep thinking about Duke.
My brain just has no room for the Spring Fling. With Mom being pregnant, Dr. Vermin getting ready to move in, and Duke lying near dead in a hospital bed, everything’s spinning in my head like a Hot Wheels car racing around one of those yellow tracks.
I don’t care what Nate says. Or who asks Sydney out. Well, I do care about that. But I’m going to wait to talk to Sydney about the dance.
I need at least a week. I’ll ask her on Friday, March 25. Unless Duke gets better before that. Who am I kidding? Oh, God.
Tuesday, March 15
Mom offered to drive me to the hospital again tonight. I just couldn’t go. I feel like a pig, but I didn’t want to see Duke looking like death again.
I hope other people are visiting him. He seems like someone who enjoys having company. Maybe there’s even another teenage guy he played Scrabble with. He might even go to my school. We’re probably both so embarrassed about visiting an old geezer and playing Scrabble, hardly anyone knows but Duke and me and the other kid.
Mom wanted to buy flowers. I thought it was too girly. So we ended up sending this balloon bouquet that looked kind of cheesy but was better than flowers. Mom tried to hug me, but I moved away. Last Sunday’s hugfest was enough for a long time.
There’s no other teenage guy who visits him. I’m a jerk.
Wednesday, March 16
Went to see Duke. Guess I grew a backbone last night. I want to write how he’s getting better, how he called out my name or blinked in this big significant way like in a TV movie. But really he just laid there. It’s hard to type this. He looks so bad. He needs to die soon.
I guess in a TV movie he’d coach me from the hospital to win the world championship in Scrabble. Actually something cooler, like kickboxing or surfing. And everyone would be so impressed, I’d get totally popular and have a big love scene with Gina at the end.
At least I got a little better at Scrabble though. At least I got to know him
. At least I got up the guts tonight to hold his hand in the hospital and squeeze it tight, even though he never squeezed back.
Friday, March 18
Duke died last night. His heart stopped and they followed that Do Not Resuscitate order. The first thing I thought when Mom told me is, Now I don’t have to visit him this weekend. I’m a pig. Duke dies and I just think of myself. I guess I’m glad he doesn’t have to suffer and all that. But really I’m just a selfish bastard who’s happy he’s gone so I don’t have to look at his half-dead face and his raggedy old body.
Man, I’m crying. I can barely see the monitor. The real truth is I already miss him, even though he was just an old geezer who gave me Scrabble tips. But also he was someone I could always bike over to see. Who gave me advice not just on how long to hold the s’s and blanks and where you could put a j, but on girls and families and school and stuff. Who said anyone would be proud to have me as a son. Oh, God. I have to stop typing.
Sunday, March 20
I thought this would be a really sad day because of the memorial service, but actually it wasn’t. I mean, deep down I feel totally bummed. Glum, as Duke used to say. But for most of the service I smiled or laughed. Maybe it’s because old people are so used to everyone dying on them, or maybe because they don’t get out much. But Duke’s friends mostly joked around, almost like we were sending him off on a cruise instead of to heaven or wherever he is.
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