Stop, Don't Stop

by Jonah Black

  I looked up at Dr. LaRue, and he was pinching the top of his nose with his fingers, the way people do when they have an excruciating headache. He looked up at me and said, “Jonah, I don’t understand. Do you think it’s funny to make up stories in therapy? Is that it? You find this all very amusing? Have you forgotten that your parents are paying for your time here?”

  I thought about it. “No,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just got to the point in the story where I didn’t feel like going on anymore.”

  “So that’s why you make up these stories of yours?” he asked me.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I guess.”

  “Do you want to tell me the story, or not, Jonah?” Dr. LaRue said. “The truth, I mean.”

  “Yes, I want to tell you,” I said.

  Dr. LaRue looked at the clock. “Well, time’s up,” he said, shaking his head. I think he was really disappointed in me.

  “But wait; I want to tell you,” I said. I suddenly realized how good it would feel to get the whole thing off my chest.

  “You can tell me next time,” Dr. LaRue said.

  I walked out into the bright Florida sunshine and got my bike, which has a new tire now. It was a beautiful day. The palm trees were swaying in the breeze, girls with tan shoulders, wearing bikini tops and cutoffs, were walking along the road, and it’s October. By now everyone at Masthead is wearing sweaters, and the leaves are crunching beneath the girls’ feet as they walk across the campus.

  I can see Sophie, wearing a green plaid Masthead skirt and a white blouse, running down a hallway alone.

  “Hey, Sophie,” I call out to her, and she stops and turns around.

  “What?” she says. She looks confused. “Do I know you?”

  “No,” I say.

  She scans my face, looking for clues.

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “No,” I tell her. “It’s all right. I don’t want to make you late.”

  “Okay,” she says, and she turns and heads back down the hall. She opens the door to a classroom and vanishes from sight.

  Posie is standing next to me. She puts her arm around my shoulder.

  “You did the right thing, Jonah,” she says.

  And I realize it’s okay that Sophie doesn’t even know my name. Everything’s going to be all right now.

  Oct. 30, 1:22 P.M.

  I’m in English class trying to pay attention while Mr. Clyde talks about The Color Purple, which I’ve been forced to read five hundred times. I liked it the first two times, but by now I’m a little tired of it. It’s like, every time I read it I figure the characters must have gotten a little smarter. Like, this time they won’t make the same mistakes all over again. You read a book enough times and you just start getting irritated with everybody, and you want to shout at the characters, Man, don’t you stupid people ever learn anything?

  This morning I kind of had a weird moment with Thorne. I saw him going down the hallway toward the Zoo, and I caught up with him

  “So, Thorne. What’s the story with Luna?” I said.

  And he went, “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has announced we are ready for boarding!”

  “What does that mean?” I demanded. “You’re going to do her, Thorne? Is that it?”

  He just laughed. “It’s that clamshell collar of yours,” he said. “I guess I owe you, man. Hey, you should write a book, Jonah Black’s Erotic Secrets of Being Pathetic!”

  “But Thorne,” I said. “You’re going out with Posie, right? What are you talking about?”

  “Jonah, man. Are you high? I’m going out with lots of girls!” he said, like that was the most normal thing in the world.

  “But Posie is your friend, Thorne. The three of us go back years and years, right? Why would you do this?”

  He still wasn’t taking this seriously. “They’re all my friends,” he said. “Life is just one gigantic love fest!” He threw his head back and laughed like this was the funniest thing he’d ever said.

  I swing at him with a huge right hook and catch him by surprise. The force of the blow knocks him back against the cement wall, which collapses upon his impact. Thorne falls unconscious, and I examine my knuckles, which are unscathed. And now, out of the hole in the wall, come all these girls who have been held prisoner by Thorne. “Thank you, Jonah!” they shout as they climb out of the hole. Some of them have been stuck back there for so long, their clothes are tattered and dirty. “You’re our hero!” They raise me onto their shoulders and carry me to a room where there is a giant double bed, and Posie is sitting right in the middle of it drinking a glass of white wine.

  She looks up at me and smiles. “Jonah, thank God you’ve set us all free,” she says.

  I try to be humble because when you are a superhero, that’s the way you are. “Aw,” I say. “It was nothing.”

  Then Thorne said, “So what’s the deal, Jonah? What are you going to be for Posie’s Halloween party?”

  I felt my face heat up. “I can’t go,” I said. “I’m hanging out with Cecily.”

  Thorne looked like he’d swallowed a nail. “Cecily LaChow?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Cecily La Dog Chow? Cecily La Cat Chow? Cecily La Monkey Chow?” Thorne said, clutching his stomach and giggling like an idiot.

  “Gee, Thorne, that’s a nice thing to say,” I said sarcastically.

  “Whoa, man. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re not going to Posie’s blowout because you’re going to be with Cecily Chow Chow? Why don’t you just bring her to Posie’s—” Thorne’s face froze. “Dude. You’re not taking her to that Lemon concert. Tell me you’re not going to the Lemon concert; just promise me that.”

  We’d reached Miss von Esse’s classroom, and I shrugged. “I’ll see you later, Thorne,” I said.

  As I went into the eleventh grade homeroom Thorne stood in the hallway watching me like I’d turned into someone he didn’t even recognize.

  I sat down at my desk, and Cecily turned around and winked at me. For the first time I kind of saw her through Thorne’s eyes. It had never occurred to me before that she wasn’t pretty, or whatever. I just thought she was sort of different, with her braid and her snake hair clip and everything. But to be honest, I don’t care what she looks like. I just really don’t want to go to that concert with her. I want to go to Posie’s.

  The unbelievable thing is that Posie still hasn’t invited me. I mean, I’ve barely even talked to Posie since my accident.

  I think I have to stop writing now.

  (Still Oct. 30, 4:00 P.M.)

  After homeroom this morning, Cecily came up to me and said, “So, is your friend Thorne going to get us tickets for the Lemon show?”

  I said I didn’t think so.

  “Well, I know some girls who are going who have two extra tickets,” she said. “Would you mind going to the show with Edie and Linda and Cilla and Kirsten?”

  Okay, so those four girls are about the goofiest four girls in the eleventh grade. They never go anywhere without each other, not even to the bathroom. And Edie and Linda have matching pink plastic braces on their teeth. But what could I do?

  “That would be fun,” I said.

  “If you come over to my house at six, we can all go together,” Cecily said.

  “Great,” I said.

  The whole time I was thinking, Is there any way I can get out of this mess? But any excuse I made would seriously hurt Cecily’s feelings, and it would be way too selfish. So it looks like I’m going to the Lemon concert on Friday. I mean, I said I would go, so I’ll go. You have to keep your word to people. It’s not like the end of the world or anything.

  (Still Oct. 30, even later.)

  Now it’s later, and it’s been a strange night. I got back home after doing my pizza route—three pepperoni, one sausage, and two plain—and guess who was lying on a chaise lounge, totally buck naked, by our pool?

  Smacky Platte. Ew.

  I couldn’t find Honey anywhere. Mom i
s still off on her book tour in Texas or whatever, so I was home alone with a totally naked Smacky. And I have to say, Smacky naked is not exactly a pretty sight. He looked like something somebody had run over with an SUV and left rotting by the side of the road.

  I wasn’t sure whether to wake him up or if I should just go inside and start making lots of noise so he’d wake up and take care of the situation himself. I mean, what was I supposed to do, go up to him and say, “Hey, Smacky, like, you’re naked and everything”?

  So I went inside and put some loud music on the stereo, Eminem actually. But no dice. Smacky just kept lying there. Then I started to get nervous, because I was thinking, what if he’s dead because he OD’d or something, then it’ll be my fault that he didn’t live because I should have called 911. But I could see his ribs moving so he was definitely breathing. Finally, Honey pulled up in her Jeep and she went out by the pool, wearing only this black bikini that was kind of baggy on her, like it was too big. And she was so pale, like you’d never guess she’s from Florida. She leaned over and gave Smacky a kiss and he reached up with his arms and hugged her. Then Honey sat down on top of him.

  I was like, Hello? Can’t you hear the music I’m playing in here? Can’t you tell I’m home?

  Then Honey reached around her back to untie her top and just as she was about to do it she saw me looking out the sliding glass door of my room and she shouted, “Jesus, can we get a little privacy around here?”

  So I turned off my stereo and went out front and got my bike and rode down to the ocean and climbed up onto my favorite lifeguard stand and sat there watching the ocean for the longest time. And then I had a thought I never thought I’d have.

  I wish Mom would come home.

  Oct. 31, 5:15 P.M.

  Halloween. It doesn’t really feel like Halloween, though, because Posie’s party isn’t until Friday, which is actually November 2. Anyway, Honey and I have this whole bowl full of mini Nestlé’s Crunch ready to hand out to the kids tonight. I’ve eaten like, fourteen already.

  Life is starting to get totally weird. Today Cilla and Kirsten came up to me at lunch all giggly, wearing these cropped jeans and these little T-shirts showing their belly buttons. They asked me if it was true I was coming to the Lemon concert with them and I said yeah and then they stood there blushing and giggling. Then Cilla said, “I think it’s great about you and Cecily,” and I was like, What about us? I mean, is there something about me and Cecily that I should know?

  And Cilla Wright said, in this kind of intimate voice like we’re really close now, “You know, Jonah, I think Cecily incredibly lucky to have you.” She looked at me with these big moon eyes and I suddenly thought Cilla is actually kind of pretty, with this short brown bob and these very thin eyebrows. She’s a lot prettier than Cecily, anyway.

  “Yeah, I guess I am lucky,” I said, although I couldn’t remember what question I was answering.

  Then they went off giggling down the hallway. I saw Thorne duck into the Zoo, and I was left standing there wondering how it was that I wound up with Cecily and Cilla and Kirsten and Thorne wound up with Posie.

  I watched the swim team flounder around after school again today. Watches Boys Dive wasn’t there, which made me sad. Wailer did this dive I call the Assassination Dive because he bounces once on the board, reaches up toward the ceiling, and then it’s like somebody shot him with a rifle, he just falls into the water like a dead weight. It wasn’t an accident, either. I saw him do it like, five times in a row. The first couple of times I thought he was trying to do something else and failing. Now I think he was doing it on purpose.

  And Martino Suarez did his one-and-a-half somersault.

  After swim practice I took my bike and cycled around the Mile for a while, and wound up in Marlin Music, looking at CDs. I went over to where all the Lemon CDs are kept and I looked at all the albums, which basically show these chicks with their clothes falling off, making fists like being naked is some incredibly feminist thing. The owner of the store, this huge fat guy with a motorcycle vest and chains on his belt, looked over at me and shook his head like I was pathetic for liking Lemon. Then this girl comes out of a back room that has swinging doors like in a Wild West saloon. She has thick curly black hair and she comes over to me and says, “Put that crap down and let’s take a ride.”

  We go outside and she starts up her Harley Road King and I get into the seat behind her and we take off down A1A. The bike is seriously loud and the tourists are staring but we don’t care. I can feel her ribs beneath my fingers as I hold on to her and smell the leather of her jacket. We ride like that for miles, heading north with the ocean on our right until we get to a bar with bull horns on the door. We go inside, and the place is deserted. The girl turns on the lights above the pool table and says, “Let’s play some goddamn pool.” I go behind the bar and get us each an ice-cold bottle while she racks up.

  “What’s your name?” I say, and she says, “Lena,” and I say, “My name’s—” and at that moment I decide my name is going to be Max. And she says, “Good luck, Max.” Then she breaks and about half the balls smack into the pockets. There’s a cigarette dangling from her mouth and she gets all the way down to the 8 and then she blows the shot. Instead of picking up my stick I push her gently back against the green felt tabletop. She is holding a blue cube of chalk and kisses it softly so that her lips have the faintest blue dust on them. I kiss her on the lips, and everywhere else I kiss I leave a blue trace. Posie’s beautiful body is covered in blue lip prints.

  “Jonah?” she says.

  I looked up and Posie, of all people, was standing in the record store. I was holding a copy of the Lemon CD in my hand and she looked at it and smiled.

  “I didn’t know you liked Lemon,” she says. “Jesus, Jonah, I find something new about you every day.”

  “I don’t really like them,” I said. “I hate them, actually.”

  Posie laughed. “So why are you looking at their CDs then?” she said. “Wait, are you blushing?”

  “I’m not,” I said, but I could feel my face heat up. It was even worse than the actual blushing, being embarrassed about blushing, I mean.

  “I’ll tell you why,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m going to the Lemon concert on Friday night. Cecily LaChoy asked me.”

  “Cecily LaChoy?” Posie said. “No way! You don’t have a crush on Cecily LaChoy, do you?”

  “I didn’t say I had a crush on her.”

  “Then why are you going with her?”

  At that moment, looking at Posie, I couldn’t think of a single reason why I’d ever agreed to go. I wanted to say something about the braid in Cecily’s hair and her snake hair clip, but I knew it would just sound stupid. And anyway, I don’t have a crush on Cecily.

  I shrugged. “She’s nice,” I said. “She’s been nice to me. She came and saw me in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, but I came by to see you in the hospital, too,” Posie said.

  “I know, but it’s like . . .” I decided I’d try to tell her what I was feeling. It was what Pops Berman had told me to do. “I feel like I never see you anymore,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Posie said.

  “We never do anything together anymore, Posie. You always used to knock on my bedroom window at night and we’d go out in your boat, or whatever. Now I never see you,” I told her.

  “What are you talking about? I saw you at swim practice the other day,” she said.

  “With Thorne,” I reminded her.

  Posie was just about to say something, but then she stopped. She looked at me sadly and put her hand on my cheek. It felt so good.

  “I’m sorry, Jonah,” she said softly.

  “You don’t have to apologize. Things change, that’s all,” I said.

  “No, I mean it. Of course it’s hard for you that I’m going out with Thorne. I’ve been so wrapped up in him I haven’t even been thinking about it. I guess I haven’t been much of a friend to you, huh?” she said ge
ntly.

  “That’s not what I mean,” I said. I still hadn’t told her how I felt, that I loved her, and that Thorne didn’t care about her the way I did. I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  “Oh, Jonah,” Posie said. She reached out and hugged me, and I put my hands on her back. It felt amazing. But then she pulled back.

  “Why don’t you come to my house Friday night, instead of going to that stupid Lemon concert?” she said. “You can bring Cecily.”

  “What’s at your house?” I said, pretending I hadn’t heard about the big party.

  “What do you mean? I’m having a big ole party. My folks are in Tampa for the weekend. It’s a costume party. Please come, Jonah! I’ll be so bummed if you don’t come.” She tilted her head to one side, and her golden hair fell down over her shoulder. I wanted to touch it.

  “I told Cecily I would go with her to the Lemon concert,” I insisted. “There’s a whole bunch of people going. I can’t let them down.”

  I knew I shouldn’t have said it the moment it was out of my mouth. But I can never lie to Posie. It’s impossible.

  “Who?” she said suspiciously.

  “I don’t think you know them. They’re all juniors,” I said.

  “Oh, my god. You’re not going with Cilla and the Goobers.” She stamped one foot. “Tell me you’re not.”

  I shrugged. My face was burning up. “They’re driving,” I said. The Goobers? Is that really what people call them?

  At this moment I thought about how much my life has sucked since I lost my driver’s license.

  “But this is ridiculous, Jonah. You’re going to Lemon with Cecily and the Goobers instead of coming to my party? I mean, do you know how lame that is?”

  “Well, maybe I can talk Cecily into going to your house afterward,” I said. I was kind of pissed off at Posie for being so insulting about it.