Daniel’s in bed by coffee time, and I hole up in my room transforming my Web page into a professional-looking portfolio site. Most of my redesigned CD and book covers look better than the originals. My environmental campaign assignment is up on the site too, in all the variations that occurred to me: the girl with the glass of water, a tranquil forest scene, and my personal favorite—the one I actually handed in to Mr. Ferguson—a close-up of a child’s legs, frothy ocean waves breaking against them.
Our latest assignment is pointillism, and it’s making me crazy. When I close my eyes, I see dots. I’m seeing them now, in homeroom, as I nestle my head into my arms on top of my desk.
“Finn, I’m totally craving fries and a shake,” Audrey says, breaking my trance. “Wanna walk down to McDonald’s for lunch today?”
“Sounds good,” I tell her. It’s mid-April, and the local McDonald’s seems a lot closer now that the snow is gone.
Jasper and Maggie jump at the idea when we head them off outside the cafeteria later. Teresa and Edwardo are in studious mode, wanting to bone up on Canadian history before their test next period, so it’s just the four of us. Jasper starts up the celebrity sex game as soon as we’re out the door, and Maggie’s eyes light up, thrilled at the possibilities.
“Chris Martin or Jake Gyllenhaal?” Jasper asks. “Who would you rather sleep with?” You have to choose one. That’s the rule. Even if you find them equally untempting.
“Jake all the way,” Audrey says. “Those eyes. And you can tell by his movie choices that he’s the kind of person who’s thinking all the time, so you’d even be able to have a cool conversation afterwards. Who could resist Donnie Darko?”
“He’s hella cute,” Maggie adds. “No comparison.”
Jasper nods vigorously in agreement. “After Brokeback Mountain, I’d even forgive him for The Day After Tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong with The Day After Tomorrow?” Maggie squeals, but Jasper and Audrey have already spun towards me.
“It’d have to be Chris Martin,” I announce, breaking the consensus. “For the English accent and the song ‘Fix You’ alone.” Yeah, the lyrics are kinda sappy, but the sincerity in his voice makes you believe him. It’s as simple as that.
Jasper waves dismissively. “Girl, you’re as bad as Maggie.” He presses his lips together and arches his neck up to the sunny sky. “How about … Jack Nicholson or Angelina Jolie?”
Audrey, Maggie, and I all wince. It’s an interesting question.
The three of us are straight, but Jack Nicholson is old and disgusting.
“Angelina,” I admit. “Even if I kept my eyes closed, there’s no way I could do it with Jack.” I shudder for effect. “He’d be all heavy and sweaty on top of you, and he’d probably want you to talk dirty.” I don’t know that for a fact, but he definitely looks like a pervert. It’s funny, but I have no problem talking about sex during the celebrity sex game, maybe because it has such little resemblance to reality. In a way, it almost makes me feel better, like if I can kid around about Jack Nicholson squirming around on top of me, maybe I’m not so screwed up after all.
“Yeah.” Audrey grimaces. “It’s gotta be Angelina.”
Maggie picks Jack, refusing to cross into bisexuality territory, but Jasper takes a long time to answer, and when he does, he opts for Angelina too. “She has amazing skin,” he explains. “And she’s a very talented actor and great humanitarian.”
“You’d change your sexual orientation to sleep with a good actress with nice skin?” I tease.
“Not change it,” Jasper says, putting on his gay voice. “Bend it. For one night. Same as you, Finn honey.”
“True,” I say with a shrug. “Okay, between Superman on Small-ville and …” I rack my brains for suitable competition. Josh Hartnett? Paul Walker? Usher? None of them seem up to the task.
“Hey, there’s Jersy,” Maggie says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. The rest of us turn to catch sight of Jersy, Billy Young, and a third stoner sauntering in our direction, obviously on their own McDonald’s run. Jersy and Audrey aren’t like Edwardo and Teresa; they stick with their own crews at lunch. This meeting is purely coincidental, but now that it’s happened it makes seven of us for McDonald’s and puts an abrupt end to the celebrity sex game.
Audrey and Jersy hold hands and I trail behind them, next to Billy, complaining about the strange effect pointillism is having on my brain.
“And what do all these little dots do when you see them?” Billy grins, his top teeth gripping his bottom lip. “Form a conga line and dance? Sounds like you’ve been indulging in some serious hallucinogens. Want to share with your brother Billy?”
“If I was taking drugs, I’d expect better hallucinations,” I tell him.
He laughs and starts talking about a new horror movie opening on the weekend. It sounds like a real bloodfest, and Jasper, Maggie, and the third stoner jump enthusiastically into the conversation too. Soon we’re all talking over each other’s voices and finishing each other’s sentences. You’d think we were all friends or something.
We even sit together at McDonald’s, and I chomp on Billy’s fries, despite my burger and shake. None of us are in any hurry to get back to school, but soon it’s time to go just the same. We walk back outside and begin crossing the parking lot. Jersy and Billy lead the way this time, and Audrey hangs back, clutching at my arm. “Come with me,” she whispers.
“Where?” I whisper back.
Audrey stops walking and yells, “We’ll catch up to you guys later.”
Maggie wants to wait, but Audrey waves her on. “I have to go to the drugstore,” Audrey tells me, pointing at the plaza across the street. “It’ll just be a minute.”
“What’s the big secret?” I ask, crossing the street with her.
Audrey squints up at me, shading her eyes with her hand. “I don’t want you to make this into a big thing, okay? Because I don’t really think that it is, but you’re my best friend and if I can’t tell you, I can’t tell anybody.”
“Okay, fine,” I say, although her speech does a pretty good job of making whatever it is sound like a big thing.
“I just want to pick up some condoms,” she whispers, pulling the front door open. “While we’re here. It’s, you know … like a proactive thing.” Audrey’s cheeks are turning red, and I feel the color drain out of my face as I stare at her. Jersy’s the fifth guy she’s made out with but the first one you could count as a boyfriend. I can’t believe they’ve reached this point so quickly.
If I’d guessed what she wanted beforehand, I’d have made some excuse not to go to the drugstore. This isn’t like the celebrity sex game; it’s not something I want to think about.
“Don’t look at me like that, Finn.” Audrey turns and leads the way down the shampoo aisle. She stands in front of a collection of styling products and says, “This isn’t a bad thing.”
I nod slowly, and after a couple seconds of us standing there pretending to look like we care about hair products, I manage to say, “Why doesn’t he have any? I mean, if you two are going to do it …”
“We’re not.” Audrey tucks one of her hands under her chin and looks at my kilt. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” My gums feel cold against my teeth. I will warmth into my face and continue down the aisle. Why should I care what she wants to do to Jersy? It has nothing to do with me.
“And maybe he does have them,” she continues, her right hand plunging into her hair. “But we haven’t talked about it, and I just wanted …” She sucks in air and then pushes the rest of the words out with one long breath. “I’m not even sure I’ll go through with it. But I really like him, you know? I think it’d be okay.”
She sounds like she knows what she’s doing, but the more she talks about we and him, the worse I feel. “What do you want me to say?” I fiddle with the hem of my kilt, and I know this isn’t what she wants to hear from me, but at the same time I can’t be any other way. “Maybe you should talk to him abo
ut it before going ahead with all this.” The words are sandpaper on my lips. I could use another shake.
Audrey smiles but her eyes are hard. “It’s not like I can do it without him, Finn. And somehow I really don’t think he’s going to have a problem with it. Sure, I could leave all the details and timing up to him, but why should I?” Her head drops in frustration. “Why are you acting like it’s wrong for me to want to do this? He’s not like everyone else. I thought you’d get that.”
I do.
“Audrey.” I touch her sleeve, sorry that I’ve reacted badly. We’ve always been able to talk about everything; I don’t want to ruin that. “You’re right.” I’m not entirely convinced, but I don’t trust myself either. My head’s spinning, trying to work out what’s wrong with this picture, and when I shut my eyes, pointillism specks flash across the insides of my eyelids like a hundred and one miniature tattoos.
“Let’s just do this,” she says, moving in the direction of the family-planning aisle.
Seconds later we’re eyeing a wall full of condoms. I don’t understand why there have to be so many different types, but I start picking them off the pegs and flipping them over, trying to process their differences. Studded. Extra-sensitive. Flared design with roomy tip. Ribbed for her pleasure. Ultra-thin for his. Form-fitting. XXL. Extra-strong. Extended pleasure.
Audrey selects a package of mint-flavored as casually as if she’s picking out chewing gum. “Come on,” she says. “We’ll be late for class.”
I think we already are.
The woman at the cash register looks just a few years younger than my gran, but she stuffs the condoms into a bag and recites their cost without giving it a second thought. Audrey smiles politely and hands over a twenty.
“Have a nice day,” the woman says, pressing Audrey’s change into her palm.
“You too,” Audrey tells her, and I wish we could rewind the last thirty minutes and go back to McDonald’s or the celebrity sex game, but I wonder if any of it would feel the same now or if I’d have to rewind all the way back to August to be the Finn I’m supposed to be.
What would that Finn say to Audrey in the drugstore?
MY mOm’S FaVOrITe restaurant is Sottoprova. It’s the most expensive restaurant in downtown Glenashton, and if you’re not fast enough a waiter will discreetly drop your napkin into your lap for you. The food is delicious, and I swear I always shuffle out of there at least five pounds heavier than when I went in. Even Mom, who hates to splurge, usually eats too much.
It’s not Mom’s birthday today—it’s not any special occasion I can think of—but we’re sitting in Sottoprova, a cream-colored napkin draped across my knees, listening to our waiter, Matteo, recite today’s specials like they’re odes by Keats. Matteo’s black curls remind me of Ryan, but his skin and eyes are much darker. I’m spending too much time staring at him, and when I convince myself to look away, I find that Mom is doing the very same thing.
Once we’ve ordered, Dad takes hold of Mom’s hand like they’re contestants on one of those bachelor reality shows. He’s been acting like that a lot lately—like he’s trying to impress her.
Maybe that means the therapy is working, but it’s awkward to watch.
“Can you drive me over to Caleb’s house if we’re finished early?” Daniel asks, pulling at his best shirt. “He got a new racing video game for his birthday, and when you crash—”
“You’re gonna go to Caleb’s in your good shirt and dress pants?” I cut in, smirking. My mom made us dress like royalty tonight, despite the absence of any special occasion.
“We just got here,” Dad says. “Let’s not rush it. His video game isn’t going anywhere.”
My brother’s face falls, and I suddenly remember what it felt like to be ten years old. The game won’t be quite so new anymore by the time he gets around to playing it. Some of the magic will have worn off, and no matter how good it is later, the game will never be as good as it seems at this moment. It’s probably not even that good now. It’s all perception. Like how in pointillism our minds fill in the spaces between the dots.
“Audrey and I are thinking about getting summer jobs this year,” I announce. My mouth’s watering at the assortment of zesty smells in the air. I may have to devour my napkin to stop myself chewing my own arm off before the antipasti arrive. “Maybe at the same place. At the mall or something.”
“I doubt you’d find a place that would hire you both,” Mom says.
“You should try the bookstore,” Dad suggests, smoothing one hand over his tie. “You could get us all discounts.” Dad is a non-fiction nut, while Mom sticks to the lighter side of the bestsellers list. I’ve never seen Daniel read anything other than a comic book.
“The comic bookstore would be cooler,” I say, thinking out loud. “That bookstore’s always dead.” The great thing about Dad being a teacher is that he’s home all summer long. He’ll be able to chauffeur me to and from my work every day—Audrey too if we can get fixed up at the same place.
“An art supply store.” Dad smiles as he points at me. “That’d be your perfect summer job.”
“Or a record store,” I add, because Audrey doesn’t know the first thing about art.
“Mmm.” Dad nods. “We’d need one of those hearing dogs for you come fall.”
“She needs one of those already,” Daniel says, ogling a piece of chocolate chip banana cake destined for another table. He’ll eat five bites of the simplest thing on the menu and gorge himself on dessert. It’s the same every time; he doesn’t know what he’s missing.
My rigatoni with asparagus and blue cheese is a gift from heaven. Mom finishes every bite of her grilled salmon and roasted potatoes, and Dad wolfs down veal like he’s spent the last six weeks in jail. It’s the best family night we’ve had since last summer. It’s easy to be in a good mood when surrounded by fantastic food, but it’s not just that. Once my parents finish with the hand-holding part of the evening, they seem at ease. It puts me at ease too, and I smile as Matteo approaches, forgetting to be awed by his Mediterranean good looks.
Matteo smiles back and plants himself beside me like he can read my thoughts but is too much of a gentleman to comment.
For a night out with family, it’s just about perfect.
Audrey rushes up to my desk in homeroom the next day, dark circles under her eyes and the metallic blue nail polish on both her thumbs half chipped off. “I need to talk to you,” she says urgently. “Can we go?”
“Yeah, come on.” I’m already up, following her towards the door and away from Portable G. “Are you okay?” I touch her arm as we climb onto the bleachers. The only other place to talk is the bathroom, which is even less private. Someone’s always holed up in there, crying about being two-timed by her boyfriend or bragging about who she hooked up with over the weekend.
“I wanted to call you last night, but they wouldn’t even let me do that.” Audrey presses her fingers into her forehead and hunches over, on the verge of tears. “They confiscated my cell. They have me completely cut off. No Internet. No telephones.”
“What happened?” I lean towards her on the bleachers so that our shoulders are bumping.
One of Audrey’s fingers works over her blue thumb as she looks at me. “Steven came home early and we didn’t hear him. We were in my room …” Her voice trails off and I know why. She’s afraid I’ll disapprove of what she’s about to tell me. I nod like she doesn’t have to worry about that and listen to her say, “Me and Jersy were on the bed, practically naked.” Audrey’s face crumples. “It was so embarrassing. He saw us … together. I mean, he saw everything. He stormed out, slammed the door shut, and started shouting at us from the hall, totally flipping out.”
I nod again so she’ll know I’m following every word, and she folds her hands over her belly. “I can’t even look at him now because I know we’re both thinking about that moment. But the worst part is, he told my mom that Jersy and I shouldn’t see each other anymore because we’re o
ut of control. And she’s listening to him, like she always does. She says we need some time apart.”
“Time apart?” I repeat. “What does that mean? For how long?” Now that she’s put that picture of the two of them into my head, I can’t get it out. It’s like the pointillism all over again.
Audrey wipes her face, but the tears are coming fast. “They say it’s indefinite. Until I’ve proven myself.”
“Have you told Jersy?”
Audrey drops her head back into her hands and rubs her bloodshot eyes. “He was late this morning—you know he’s never here on time. And I had no way of getting in touch with him last night.”
“What’re you going to do?” I’ve never seen Audrey this upset; it makes me feel helpless. I put my hand on her back and try to conjure the words she’d use in my place. “You have to talk to him. What does he have first period?”
I know his schedule by heart, but I’d never admit it. “Com Tech,” Audrey confirms, touching my hand. “But Finn, you know I can’t stop seeing him now. They’ll make me wait too long. I’ll lose him.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, but I’m not as certain as I sound. Jersy likes her a lot, but he doesn’t seem like the waiting-around type.
“It’ll take me months to get Steven to trust me again,” Audrey squeaks. “You know the way he is. It only takes one wrong step to set him off for days—and this was huge. If you’d heard the things he said to us …” She folds her fingers around mine and squeezes. “You have to help me, Finn.”
I squeeze back. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’m grounded for two weeks.” Audrey turns towards me. Her pink-lined eyes are painful to look at. “But after that I have to try to see Jersy when I can. Could you cover for us? It won’t be for forever, just until Steven calms down.”
Steven won’t calm down in a hurry—Audrey said that herself— but of course I’ll help. I’ll do whatever I can for as long as she needs me to.
Audrey throws her arms around me when I say yes. “What would I do without you?” she cries. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best!”
One Lonely Degree Page 8
