HARLAN

by David Whitman

  "No," I stammered. "It's just that I have to warn Julian about his brother. He's been looking for us since Friday—"

  She put her finger to my lip. "You didn't answer my question, Harlan. So what now? What are you doing this Friday?"

  "Would you like to do something?" I asked, pushing my glasses up to the bridge of my nose, a nervous habit I had been trying to shake. God I sounded stupid! I sound just like all the guys I despise. Just when I needed to say something completely clever, I come off sounding stupid.

  "Are you asking me out, Harlan?" she asked teasingly. "God, you're backwards. You know…most guys ask a girl out and then kiss them. I've never had it done the other way around."

  "I'm sorry," I managed to stumble out. "I'm not usually like that, I mean I've never even been in a situation like this. I—"

  She put her finger to my lips again. "I said you don't have to apologize. It was pretty amazing actually. I've never had something that spontaneous happen to me. It just felt right, that's all." She pulled me away from the tree and once again tangled herself in my arm. "Come on, we'd better get back." She was already leading me back down the path. "And, yes, Harlan, I would like to do something on Friday night."

  When we got back to the park, I saw that Julian and Vlad were still by the tree. Apparently Ross hadn't seen them. Samantha didn't let go of my arm until we were within ten feet of my friends. Just before she let go, we locked eyes and once again I knew I was in trouble.

  She actually seemed to radiate heat with her eyes. They were absolutely elegant. I saw all her friends were smiling at us as if they knew everything that had happened. It made me feel naked. I usually like attention, but this kind of attention was different. It made me feel vulnerable somehow. Like I had lost my shield or something.

  "The sex god returns," Julian said grinning at me.

  "Harlan be thy name," Vlad said, repeating Julian's joke from Friday night.

  "So?" Julian asked.

  I played dumb. "So?"

  "Harlan, tell me what the hell that was all about, dammit!"

  "I have a date on Friday night," I said. I didn't want to tell them about the kiss. It seemed private somehow. Like as if telling anyone would ruin everything.

  "I like Samantha," Vlad said, looking over at them and waving. Samantha and her friends immediately looked away giggling.

  "Oh great," Julian spat. "First he tells me he has sex on a regular basis with his beautiful neighbor, and now he tells me he's going on a date with one of the most attractive girls in our school." He looked up at the sky dramatically. "God, I want you to stop this ride right now. I'm getting the hell off. It's no longer any fun for me."

  Vlad and I started laughing and then Julian joined in. I could tell Julian was a little jealous. If I went with Samantha, then he wouldn't have anything to do. Thank God we were hanging out with Vlad now.

  Samantha walked over to me and thrust a piece of paper into my hand. "My phone number," she said. "Call me tonight if you can."

  I smiled stupidly. "I will," I said and put the piece of paper within the folds of my jacket.

  Chapter 4:

  Just don't let my intensity mess your hair up, okay, Baby?

  We managed to get out of the park alive. There was a lot of people, and we didn't even see any sign of Ross as we left. Thank God for small favors. Vlad was busy, so that left Julian and I to try to find something to do for the next few hours. I had to work at five and I would be stuck there until ten. We went back to my house and Julian promptly fell asleep on the couch. My Mom wouldn't get home from work until seven. She works as a waitress at a local diner.

  I looked out the window and I saw that Suzanne's car was in her driveway. For some odd reason I was nervous about telling her about Samantha—as if I would lose her somehow by giving myself to somebody else. I quietly left the house, so as not to wake Julian, and I went across the street. She must have seen me coming because she opened the door just before I knocked.

  "Well hello, Harlan," she said, looking at me sympathetically. She was wearing a tight white tee shirt and a pair of Levis. Her short dark hair was gelled back to her head as if she had just taken a shower. "I heard about the incident at your school. Are you all right? Did you know her?"

  I walked in and closed the door behind me. The house smelled of lilac as usual. Suzanne and I both had a thing for lilac. We had a lot in common other than the age difference. We also have a lot of the same opinions, although I'm sure that she formed many of mine. She's extremely intelligent and holds a Masters degree in psychology. There is no other person I trust so completely, not even Julian.

  "Yeah, I knew her," I said, and then, for about the third time today, I shocked myself and started crying.

  She embraced me and we just stood there as my shoulders shook. I'm not one of the loud criers; in fact I make no sound at all. Why I was crying I had no idea—I mean, I knew Alisa, but I didn't know her that well.

  Suzanne was caressing my hair slowly with her smooth fingers. "You're such a sweet boy, Harlan. You act all tough like you hate the world, but you care more than most."

  I hated when she called me boy. She only had sex with me about two hundred times for fuck's sake. Calling me that made me feel like a boy toy. I needed her now, though. Needed her badly.

  She pulled me into the kitchen. "Come on," she said. "We'll have some coffee and we'll talk about it."

  After she sat me down in the kitchen, she poured a coffee and placed it in my hand. I grabbed the sugar and dumped it in. I like my coffee almost like candy.

  We sat there for a few minutes just staring at each other. She was smiling at me affectionately. You know that you're close with someone when you can just sit together and say nothing for minutes at a time. Suzanne and me often did that, just enjoying one another's company. She put her hand on top of mine and began to gently rub her fingers over the top of my knuckles.

  I took a small sip before speaking. "I don't know why I feel the way that I do, Suzanne. I didn't even know her that well. I liked her, though. She was a good person."

  She lifted my hand up. "Well, Harlan, it's totally normal to feel the way you do. You're sensitive, you always were." She kissed my hand. "And don't you ever stop being that way, either. It's one of the many reasons I love you."

  I was feeling better already. Suzanne always made me feel like a real person. I was already smiling. "You know something, Suzanne? I just realized something that has some rather sick implications."

  "Really?" she asked, kissing my fingertips. "What's that?"

  "You're like my mother and my lover at the same time," I said, grinning. "Gross, huh?"

  She laughed out loud. I loved her laugh; it always made me want to laugh as well. "What, Harlan, and you don't think I've ever thought of those damn Freudian implications? And we're not lovers anymore."

  "Kiss me, Mother," I said dramatically.

  She put my hand up to her cheek as if I was blind and she was trying to get me to feel her smile. "Now that's gross. I think that's a name we'll just leave out of this relationship."

  "I told Julian about you," I said, enjoying the feel of her soft cheek.

  "Oh my God. What did he say?"

  "It shocked the hell out of him at first. He's cool with it now, of course. I knew he would be."

  She began to kiss my fingertips. "Does he think I'm some kind of child molester or something?"

  "Actually, he's kind of jealous. He calls me a sex god now. Says that I'm probably the most sexually experienced kid in high school."

  She laughed again. "Let's just say that when you find a girlfriend you'll probably kill her with your sexual intensity."

  I laughed again and sort of blushed. "Yeah, I can see myself now talking to the girl." I was thinking of Samantha. "Just don't let my intensity mess your hair up, okay, baby?" Then I recited a poem that we had made up one night as a joke. "Sometimes right is wrong and wrong is right. What now?—"

  She finished for me. "Fuck it, baby, hold o
n tight. We're going for a ride."

  "Fasten your fucking seat belt," I added.

  She got up and hugged me. "Jesus, Harlan, you're too damn smart for your own good. What am I going to do with you?"

  I figured that I might as well tell her. "I have a date on Friday night." I felt her stiffen. "Jealous?"

  She moved her chair closer to mine. "Really? Well, you're going to have to tell me all about her. What's her name? And most importantly, how old is she?"

  I took my glasses off, cleaning them on my shirt. "Well, her name is Samantha Vance. She's my age and she's hot."

  "Oh really?" she purred. "What's she look like? Describe her for me?"

  "She has short dark hair, kind of looks like Winona Ryder. She has these really intense eyes—they scare me. She's also really aggressive."

  "Ooooh," Suzanne cooed. "A gothic cutie. Sounds like your kind of girl. I like aggression in a chick. Shows that they won't let themselves be pushed around."

  She was smiling, but I could see by her eyes that she was actually really jealous. Well, she was going to have to deal with it. God knows I've had to deal with her boyfriends over the last couple of years. One of them even called me names like Kid, Buster, and Pal. It took everything I had not to put a bullet in his head.

  "Did you ask her out, or did she ask you?"

  I thought about that and then I realized that Samantha had manipulated the hell out of me. Now that was scary. "Well, I asked her out, but she kind of made sure of that. Thinking back on it now I think she kind of asked me out in a way. I kissed her, though, there is always that."

  "You already kissed her?" Suzanne asked, playfully slapping me on my knee. "You pig! You're supposed to date her first and then kiss her."

  I sighed. "Yeah, I know. That's exactly what she said. I apologized at least."

  "You're lucky she went out with you. Did you like it?"

  I took a sip of my coffee. "Like what? Oh, the kiss! Hell yeah, I liked it. That's what terrifies me."

  "Welcome to the real world, Harlan," she said, rubbing my knee. "Love makes you more vulnerable than you can possibly imagine. You better hope her sword isn't sharp. I know yours is."

  I smiled. "Is that a pun?"

  "Double entendre," she shot back.

  "Jesus, Samantha," I said. "Your knife is sharp, I'm bleeding all over the place here."

  She kissed me on top of the head. "You better hope that's not a line that you're going to have to say. Well, if you get hurt, you always have my shoulder to cry on. It feels weird to finally give you up like this, Harlan. I do love you." She smirked. "Like a son."

  I kissed her back and it wasn't a sexual kiss, it was pretty sweet actually. "Yes, and of that I'm glad. I love you too, Suzanne."

  "And I can't believe I'm this fucking jealous."

  We talked for about an hour and then I went home. I felt a lot better. Things were finally beginning to look pretty good for me.

  Chapter 5:

  Fasten your seatbelt, Harlan, I want to try something.

  Julian was still sleeping when I left for work, but I managed to get him to go upstairs in my room so that my Mom wouldn't freak out when she got home. I had an idea she still didn't know that he was staying over. Julian's mother died when he was five years old, leaving his rather dimwitted father to raise him and Ross. His father didn't care what he and Ross did—as a matter of fact I don't even think Julian bothered to tell his father that he was staying at my house all week.

  Working at the video store is pure torture. The problem is I genuinely don't like most people. It is so hard being nice and polite to someone when all you really want to do is put them right through the window. Most of the customers only want the video that's "new". They don't care who's in it, they don't care what it's about, nothing. I just don't like to be fake. It seems that the more you enter into the real world, the more fake you become. You have to smile at people you hate, act like you like them. Laugh at their jokes that border on the retarded. You have to play the game. Well, I have to tell you, I'm not much of a player.

  Tonight things don't seem so bad, though. It's Monday so things are slow. I enjoy it when it's like this. I have the place pretty much to myself, I can watch movies or read, which is what I usually do. Right now I'm writing in my journal. Looking over everything, I'm surprised at how things are holding together. It runs like a real story and I think that I've captured the dialog dead on without any exaggerations. I'm surprised at all the things that have happened to me since Friday. Ross Morrissey, a serial killer, and Vlad. I guess I don't always come out looking like the best person in the world, but that's what happens when you stick a mirror to yourself.

  And Samantha. Yep, I have Samantha on the mind. All day long she's all I can think about. I think that I've replayed the kiss about two hundred times at least. This whole thing is new to me. Yes, I've been obsessed with Suzanne for the last two years, but I've never fallen so hard and so quick. I definitely plan to call her tonight—in fact, I've already memorized her phone number.

  Life is getting complicated. Three days ago this journal was about my suicide. I intended it to list and show my reasons for doing myself in. Now, I'm actually forming new relationships and meeting new people. I'm having new feelings. I hate to sound redundant, but I'm not so sure how I feel about these feelings.

  Oh well, Dear Reader, it's getting time to close this dump and I'm sure that the next time I write, I'm going to have a lot more to say.

  I paused before I put my finger on the last number. What if she changed her mind? What if she was mad at me for kissing her? Screw it. "Don't let my intensity mess your hair up okay, baby," I said.

  "Hello?"

  Oh shit, I must have accidentally hit the final number. Did she just hear that? "Um, is Samantha there?"

  "This is her."

  "Hi, Samantha. This is Harlan. Are you busy? Because if you are, I can go."

  "Hi, Harlan!" She actually sounded happy to hear from me. "No, I'm not busy at all. I didn't think you were going to call me."

  There was an awkward silence as we both tried to figure out what to say. "There's no school tomorrow," she said. "I just heard it on the radio. They said they were going to give us time to get over this whole Alisa thing."

  "Seriously? That's good, I didn't much feel like going anyway. I might have even stayed home."

  "Harlan, I hope this doesn't sound too bold, like I'm jumping the gun or something, but considering that we don't have school tomorrow, do you want to do something? I mean, we can talk easier face to face than we can here on the phone."

  Jesus, this was going fast! "Sure, I'd love to! Only problem is I don't have a car."

  "That's no problem at all. I have a jeep. I'll pick you up in ten minutes?"

  And that was that.

  Julian had crept back over to his house to get some more school clothes, so I put a note on my bed. He probably wasn't going to be too happy, but oh well. I never do anything like this.

  Ten minutes on the dot and she was beeping the horn in my driveway. As I walked out of the house I could see Suzanne's silhouette in the window. I waved and she waved back.

  I got in the jeep and Samantha looked amazing. She was wearing my favorite color, black. She didn't have much make-up on except for some cherry-red lipstick, but she didn't need it.

  "Hi again, Harlan. I sure didn't expect to be seeing you so quick. I hope you don't mind."

  She pulled out of the driveway while I tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make me sound retarded.

  "Fasten your seat belt, Harlan, I want to try something," she said, staring deadpan at the windshield.

  I looked at her nervously and then I saw by her smile that she was joking. I promptly burst into laughter. "Oh sure," I said. "Scare me right away."

  The seat belt joke was weird, though. It was too similar to the stupid poem of Suzanne's and mine.

  "I thought that would wake you up. I heard a comedian say that once," she said, increasing th
e speed.

  I could tell by the brand new jeep that her family had money. I certainly could never afford anything like this.

  "So, do you regret our little rendezvous in the park?" she asked.

  "Not at all. In fact, I have to admit I liked it. I liked it a lot."

  "Want to go to Killjoy's?" she asked.

  Killjoy's was the local coffeehouse. A lot of posers and assholes hung out there, but it would be a good place to go. No one would bother us there and I know that Ross wouldn't be caught dead in the place.

  "Okay," I said.

  When we got there I was stunned to see that it was Karaoke night. Oh great, this will get the romance fires burning, I thought. Some dopey dumbass singing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" will really get us in the mood.

  We got a table in the back and some chubby bearded guy in rainbow suspenders named Bailey Butler was singing Hank William's "Your Cheatin' Heart." The really bizarre thing was that he was really good. Sounded good to me, anyway, but what do I know about country music? Some of the people near the front of the stage were singing along. It was all really embarrassing.

  We were shown to a booth in the back and, once we were alone, I found that I was really comfortable with Samantha. Her shoulder length hair was done in that false unkempt way that you knew really took a while to do. She was looking at me teasingly, as if she knew some secret about me and was about to blurt it out.

  "What?" I asked, adjusting my glasses. The waitress dropped off our cappuccinos and I thanked her.

  "You have to be really good looking to get away with those glasses, Harlan."

  I smelled the coffee before I took a sip and asked, "Is that a compliment, or an insult?"

  She smiled brightly, her teeth gleaming. At the risk of sounding like the love struck teenager I am, I'm going to describe her smile. It's actually simply radiant. It brightens up the room. It makes you feel happy immediately. You would have to be made of stone not to smile back.