What if she got shot down?
“Are you okay?” Mel asked.
“Great.”
The music slowed.
“Okay,” Nina said. “This is us.”
She walked right up to Kathy, who had turned to look around the room, probably for Mel.
“Hey,” she said brightly. “Would you like to dance?”
Kathy seemed surprised by this. She did, in fact, look Nina up and down and take in the officewear.
“Okay,” she said.
It wasn’t, Nina noticed, said with a lot of enthusiasm. It was a pleasant but lukewarm “Okay.”
Kathy and Nina were about the same height. Kathy wasn’t a great dancer either, but she wasn’t nearly as timid. She pummeled Nina with questions about where she went to school and who she knew. By the end of the song Nina had the strange feeling that she’d just been interviewed for something. An inclusion into the local gay and lesbian alliance, possibly. Maybe even a job.
Nina glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mel and Alex were dancing. Their scheme had worked.
When the song was over, Nina hurried out through the lobby and stood outside in the frosty night air. Her brain was reeling. This situation was no longer hypothetical. She had just danced with two girls, who probably thought she was gay—and for good reason. Showing up at a gay dance. Dancing when asked. Asking other girls to dance. These signals were pretty unambiguous.
That was it. She was going to sit in the car, scrunch down low in the seat, and play with her phone for the rest of the night.
“She’s from Albany,” Mel said, rushing out and joining Nina. “Oh my God. Am I all red?”
“A little,” Nina said, managing a smile. It had been a long time since she had seen Mel this excited.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Thanks,” Mel said. “For doing this. I know it has to be weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Nina said, smiling even more broadly to cover the hugeness of the lie. “It’s just dancing. It’s cool.”
“We don’t have to stay….”
“Did you get her number yet?”
“Oh God.” Mel looked thunderstruck. “I can’t. That’s too weird.”
“So ask for her e-mail address.”
Mel thought this one over.
“It feels weird,” Mel finally said. “I feel like I’m cheating on her or something. I know that’s crazy.”
“It is crazy. No crazy talk. Avery’s not here. But Alex is.”
“I saw her on Valentine’s Day. We talked.”
“Who? Avery?”
“Yeah.”
“What did she say?”
“Not a lot,” Mel said.
Nina leaned against the door and sighed.
“That’s good, I guess.”
They both fell quiet. Mel kept staring at the shapes her breath was forming.
“Okay.” Nina stood up straight and adjusted her skirt. “We’re standing outside in the freezing cold talking about things that suck when you could be inside talking to Alex, your hot new girl.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Not yet,” Nina said, giving Mel a gentle push. “But I have a good feeling.”
Saint Patrick’s Day
38
Nina slipped out from under her heavy down comforter and pulled up her blinds. The sun had decided to come out after days of flurries and overcast skies. It reflected off the thin coat of snow on the ground, making everything intensely light and radiant.
It looked like an eighteenth birthday. Kind of gleaming.
Things had gotten better for both her and Mel in the last few weeks. Mel had been e-mailing and IM-ing Alex for almost a month. They hadn’t actually managed to set up a date yet, but it seemed like that was the way things were headed. Mel had her own timetable, and at least Avery was coming up in conversation less and less. They were both getting used to that fact.
Parker had been Nina’s major development. He had kept his promise to the letter—he was a perfect not-boyfriend. When she was busy, he made himself scarce. He didn’t bog her down with text messages and notes. At school or in front of Mel he didn’t even hint at the fact that there was anything going on between them. But there was. He was always there, waiting at the other end of the phone or online. She’d get in touch and he’d appear, and they’d go for coffee. Sometimes they’d just take Nina’s SUV (the Roach had personality, but there was no getting used to that hole in the floor in the winter) and just park in the lot behind the Visitors’ Center. But each time felt like a separate event. It wasn’t building to anything. It was just the arrangement they had worked out, and it was good.
Tonight, he wanted to take her out. That was fair enough. It was her birthday, and it was a beautiful day.
She switched on her computer and ran down the list of e-mails that had come in. It was a love shower this morning. Birthday e-mail. There were about five e-greeting receipts waiting for her, two messages from Rob, a string of thirteen notes from Parker. But what caught Nina’s eye was a note in the middle.
Carson88. Steve. The subject line simply said “Hi.”
Hi.
Very casual. Hi. Remember me?
Nina sat for a solid ten minutes before double clicking on the note.
Dear Neen,
Happy birthday, first of all.
I know it’s weird that I’m writing and that you may not want to hear from me, so I’m going to tell you why.
Diane and I broke up. It happened two weeks ago. She’s a good person, but I honestly was thinking about you the whole time and even talking about you a lot.
So I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, going nuts, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t make me seem like some kind of ASS because I’m really, really nervous even writing this now.
I guess I should mention that I got into Stanford too. So you’re going to see me even if you don’t want to, and if you don’t want to, I’ll totally hide in the hills and stay clear. But I’m really, really sorry for what I did. I think I went insane. It was raining here all the time (big surprise) and some kind of pernicious (SAT word) mold completely took over our bathroom. My dad’s been out of work (lots of lentils) and everything was just kind of grim and sucked. I was just kind of depressed, I guess, and I felt like I was never going to see you again. Last summer was the best time of my life. I got lucky. I met you. I felt so weird when we both had to go home. I figured it would be easier to pretend like you weren’t even there and see someone else. Does that make sense?
I sound so lame.
I miss you and I’m sorry and I’ll do anything I can, but please, I am telling the complete truth.
I hope my writing doesn’t make you sick or anything. I don’t want to ruin your birthday. I just want to say that I’m sorry and that I’m here anytime you feel like talking about this, if you ever do. I want to keep writing, but I should probably stop.
—Stickboy
Nina curled her arms over her stomach. The feelings came back all once, in a surprise attack. There were the scary ones that she’d had to beat down when he wasn’t writing and after they split up. There were the warm ones—the ones that caused her whole body to shake when she heard his voice.
She couldn’t think. There was something so real about what he was saying, but she kept picturing him with the girl with the similar hair, imagining all the things they’d been able to do together. So many things she’d never know about.
Nina went over and climbed back into her bed. She wondered if she could stay there all day. She’d never faked being sick before. But a birthday was a way too obvious time to start. Besides, she didn’t want to be stuck alone with that e-mail all day. She’d definitely lose her mind.
When she came into school, Nina saw the balloon tied to her locker from halfway down the hall. As she got closer, she saw that the locker door had also been covered in streamers and had a happy birthday sign attached to it. These were all things s
he expected, and she was grateful, but she didn’t want them today. She wasn’t ready for today anymore. She needed her birthday to be postponed at least a week. She hurried to her locker, hoping to avoid any major contact. If she could just get to the council office and sit for a few minutes, she would probably be fine.
A small crowd screamed a greeting when she walked into the room.
Georgia had decorated the student council office in streamers. There was an extra-large pile of muffins on the table. These weren’t just the nasty raisin-bran ones that she usually brought in. Today Georgia had obviously stolen the good ones as well—the lemon poppy seeds, the glazed orange, the chocolate cheesecakes. The underclassmen reps had stuffed her box full of cards and small gifts: a Glinda the Good Witch magnet, two car-nations, one pink rose, a mini—Chinese food carton full of candy. She duly sat at the table and opened all of these, thanking each person with a hug.
As she was carrying her armload of gifts back down the hall, she was caught again, this time by Mel, who was running up to her with a huge smile on her face.
“Hey!” Mel said. “We’ve been looking for you!”
The “we” included Parker, who stood behind Mel, waiting his turn.
“I got ambushed in the office,” Nina said.
Parker was smiling broadly. For a moment, it looked like he was going to lean over and kiss her.
“I need her for a second,” Mel said. “I’ll bring her right back.”
She pulled Nina down to the bathroom and then checked it over to see if anyone was there.
“Okay,” she said. “Special news. I’m telling my dad tonight.”
“Telling him, telling him?”
Mel nodded.
“Oh my God.” Nina tried hard to curb her feelings for a moment to show some enthusiasm. The best she could come up with was a wet smile. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Mel nodded. “It’s time.”
“Why now? I mean, I’m glad, but …”
“After I went to the dance, I felt really good. And Avery wasn’t…. Avery was different. Avery didn’t want to talk about it. All those people there—they were just being normal about it. It made me feel normal. Does that make sense?”
“Completely.”
“Alex came out when she was fourteen. She said she thought her mom was going to freak, but she was really good about it. She’s had girls over for dinner and everything. I don’t think my mom would be okay with that, because, well, you know my mom. But my dad might. I think my dad would, right?”
Mel was speaking breathily and pacing the bathroom, touching all the pink tiles above the sink with her index finger as if they were huge buttons—all systems go.
“You’re dad’s great.”
“I know. And I had to pick a date, so I figured why not your birthday? Mine’s not until May and I don’t want to wait that long, because then it’s prom, and that’s a whole different thing I have to explain anyway. They even have a prom! In Albany! And I have it all figured out. I’m making my dad’s favorite dinner, this chicken thing, and then I’ll tell him right afterward. I’m telling him everything. Even the parts about Avery, because he’ll figure that out anyway.”
This was the most Mel had ever said in one go. She was barely even taking breaths. But Nina’s brain was still stuck on one note. Steve is back. He didn’t mean it. Similar Hair is outta here. Steve is sitting in the rain, thinking about me. Steve was sad. Steve cheated on me and gave up. Steve misses me.
Would he like her new hair? She reached up and touched the springy tips—her new nervous habit.
Screw him. He would be lucky to see her hair again.
“It’s all working out, Neen,” Mel said, coming close. “It seemed so bad before, but it’s working out.”
The door opened, and Mel quickly backed up.
“It’s great,” Nina said, stepping forward and grabbing Mel’s hand very deliberately. (So what if the soccer girls standing on the other side of the room were watching? Whatever. They could go bend it like Beckham and shut up.) “It’s the best birthday present.”
She wanted to tell Mel everything—explain to her that the reason that her eyes were misting over had more to do with Steve than anything else. Forget Steve. This was Mel’s shining moment….
“It’s great,” she said again. “Everything’s great.”
39
When she got home from school, Nina spent half an hour sitting in front of her computer, not writing a reply to Steve. This was pretty much in keeping with her entire day, which she’d spent composing e-mails in her head that she knew she wasn’t going to be sending to Steve.
In one second she put her fingers on the keys, intending to pour her heart out and tell him that she understood and that they weren’t really starting again since as far as she was concerned nothing had ever really changed—her love was true and constant and she knew it would all be all right in the end. Then she’d curl up her fingers, and the next time she went to type, she planned to write a stunning description of Parker’s many fine attributes, concentrating on his single-minded devotion to her happiness. (All phrased in the most apologetic terms possible. Rub his nose in her goodness. Make the boy suffer a bit.)
In the end, all she did was bring up a blank note and open and close it a few times. She wasted the entire afternoon that way, and before she knew it, it was dark. Parker would be on his way soon.
“It’s all ready,” he said as she climbed into the Roach an hour later.
“What is?”
“You’ll see.”
He turned left and headed back toward school. Nina was surprised when he turned into one of the back lots and parked.
“We’re going back to school?” she said. “Is there another sign?”
“Ask no questions!”
Parker led her around to one of the doors near the gym. Even from the parking lot, she could hear a chorus unevenly singing a bright show tune. She’d forgotten that rehearsals for the spring musical had just started. She listened as the group worked through a line or two and then stopped and restarted, getting only a bit further each time, chopping their way through the score with rough, loud strokes.
It was eerily dark in the hall outside the gym. Nina had been in school plenty of times after hours, but that was always for official reasons, and she rarely strayed much farther than the council office. Parker took her back along the hallway with all of the trophy cases. He stopped in front of the double doors of the main lecture hall, where they showed movies and had smaller, single-class assemblies. He produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
“How’d you get that?” Nina asked.
“I know one of the AV guys.”
“They give AV guys keys?” Nina asked, feeling a little jealous. “I’m the president of the council and I don’t even get a key to the council office.”
“It’s one of those secret power positions,” Parker explained, holding the door open for her.
The auditorium was even darker than the hallway. Nina heard Parker somewhere in the shadows, and a moment later the room was partially illuminated. He came over and took her hand and led her down to the center aisle. In the middle there was a small pail of snow chilling several sodas and a pint of ice cream. Stretched between the armrests of one of the seats was a cloth-covered piece of cardboard, which had several large boxes of candy, a bag of multicolored gourmet chips, and a small bouquet of flowers.
“Movie is your choice,” Parker said. He opened up a back-pack, which was there on the floor, to reveal a stack of brand-new DVDs, still in the shrink-wrap.
“Where did you get all of those?”
“Ah, the power of credit cards and returns,” he said. “Just pick which one you want to see.”
Nina shuffled through the pile. Parker was leaning over, watching her reaction to everything, and her reaction was definitely becoming stranger and more strained.
“Doesn’t have to be a movie,” he said. “We could always debate current
events.”
“No, it’s great, it’s just …”
“Just what?”
“I have this problem,” she said.
“Oh.” He leaned back and stroked an imaginary beard. “Problems. I’m good with those. Lay one on me.”
“Steve wrote to me today.”
Evidently this was not what Parker was expecting to hear.
“Because it’s your birthday?”
“Well, yeah. But … there was more.”
“More what?”
“He wants to get back together. He broke up with the other girl.”
“That’s great.” Parker sat back and stared at the blank screen.
“Park …”
“Of course, this is the guy who didn’t even think to write to you for like two months.”
“There was a reason.”
“I guess there was. What, did he have a really slow Internet connection?”
“He’s not a bad guy,” Nina said. “Actually, you’re both really great people.”
This was supposed to be a compliment, but from the look on Parker’s face, Nina got the idea that he didn’t see the great honor in being compared to Steve.
“He dated some other girl. He never wrote. He never called. How great a guy can he be?”
“I think,” Nina said diplomatically, “that it was just hard being apart. I know it was for me. And we’re going to the same school in the fall.”
“So it’ll be more convenient?“
“Look,” Nina said, “we’re not dating, remember? I’m not even sure what to do about him, anyway. I’m just telling you.“
Parker didn’t answer. He grabbed the bag of chips and began squeezing it between the tips of his fingers, crushing the contents little by little. That’s when it really hit her. This was not a casual thing to Parker. He’d been playing along the whole time, pretending like it was casual, because he knew that was what she wanted. Now the truth was in his face. His scowl. The fact that he wouldn’t look at her.
“Can we just talk this out?” she said cautiously.
“Talk it out? What’s there to talk out? Your asshole ex is back.” He slumped petulantly in his seat.
The Bermudez Triangle Page 22
