Misdirected

by Ali Berman

  “Doesn’t your mom have a say?”

  “In their faith, the man is the head of the household. His is the final word.”

  “Seriously? That’s effed. That’s like, how things were a century ago, not now.”

  “Yeah, well, they believe women are supposed to be subservient to their husbands. And my mom is, even when it hurts her.”

  “Wow. Sucks to be a girl,” I say. “And what about your brother? Did your dad cut him out right away?”

  “He had already gone to college when he told them his feelings on religion, so he was out of the house and it wasn’t as big a deal for him. I still have to live with my parents for three more years. I don’t even know what they would do if I told them what I think.”

  “I think for now you’ve just got to keep going with the flow.”

  “You’re not,” Tess says.

  “Yeah, but it’s not my family I’m risking. It’s just any kind of normal social life. And really, what kind of life was I going to have pretending to believe in god anyway? I’d be lying all the time. You at least believe in god. You’re only partly lying.”

  “I guess. Lying to my family doesn’t make me a great Christian though.”

  “You should talk to your brother about it,” I say. “He’ll get it. And we’ll find ways to see each other. You’re the only friend I’ve got out here.”

  She squeezes my hand and says, “Friend?”

  “Well, um. Friend or something else?”

  “I vote for something else.”

  I sit there, frozen. She’s looking at me. Does that mean she wants me to . . .

  “I really like you Ben.”

  “I really like you too,” I say. My body is freaking out again.

  “So . . .”

  “Can I . . .”

  “Yes,” she says quickly.

  “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

  “You were going to ask if you could kiss me.”

  “And you said yes.”

  “I did.”

  Chapter 11

  Who Needs Friends When You Have a Girlfriend

  The next morning as I get ready for school, the fact that I have no friends doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve got a girlfriend. A girl who is nice, smart, pretty, and thinks I’m awesome. I couldn’t even sleep last night. Even though I didn’t come back inside the house until 2 a. m. and had to wake up at seven. And now, I’ve had more than my first real kiss. I think we kissed for an hour. Which means I’m probably on kiss number three hundred and five. Hell. Freaking. Yeah.

  I get to school and head to my locker. Not only do I have a girlfriend, but I’m also ahead on my schoolwork. Which pretty much makes me the most awesome kid in school today.

  Or not. When I get to my locker, someone has written the word “FAG” in big letters. Underneath that, it says, “You’re going to burn.”

  Wow. You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell is wrong with these people?

  I go to the bathroom, grab some paper towels and soap, and spend the next twenty minutes rubbing that crap off. It had to be one of the guys from Sunday. Kenny, maybe? I mean, who else would be so pissed at me?

  Obviously, hating me is a popular state of mind because when I walk into homeroom, now late, no one even says hey. They all just keep talking in their little groups.

  The teacher looks annoyed and says, “Do you have a note?”

  “Sorry. I just had some trouble with my locker.”

  Kenny looks at me and smirks. I try and look away, ignore him. Any time I glance back, he’s looking right at me with disdain. And why? Really, what have I done?

  Thankfully, it only ruins my good mood for a little while. I just keep coming back to one fact. I’ve got a girlfriend. Seriously, I could just keep saying that same freaking sentence all day. So I ignore him. After a few minutes, I turn my chair so I’m not even tempted to look his way.

  During my classes I barely hear anything the teachers are saying. I just go from room to room thinking about the night before. And when I walk in the hallways I just hope that I run into Tess. Not that we can talk or even really acknowledge each other’s existence. But we’ll both know. Too bad her locker is on the third floor and mine is on the second.

  At lunch, I sit by myself. So far, not a single kid has even said hi. Arty walked by me and threw his bag over his shoulder so that it smacked me in the head. Then he laughed. I think being invisible would be better.

  I grab my lunch and whip out Beowulf to read while I’m eating. Every few minutes I look up to see if Tess is anywhere. Beth is sitting at their usual table. Tess isn’t there. Angela is though. When we accidentally make eye contact she gives me a nasty smirk.

  I feel someone walk behind me and then a little piece of paper falls onto my lap. I look around expecting to get smacked again or have something thrown at me. Instead the wormy freshman kid who Kenny called gay at church is walking fast out of the lunchroom.

  I open the note and it says, Meet me in the Ya-Zz stacks in the library.

  Maybe Tess sent the kid to come get me. Maybe she wants to make out in the library. Or maybe I’m about to get beat up in the stacks by some guys who made a poor freshman deliver the message.

  I gather my stuff and go up two floors to the library. Of course it’s empty. Now that I think about it, I should just come here during lunch. I can eat my food in the hallway on my way up and skip the cafeteria altogether. I won’t feel like a loser and I’ll avoid the pissy looks people feel like throwing my way.

  I find the Ya-Zz section. It’s in the back, far away from the info desk and totally private. I take out a piece of gum so Tess doesn’t have to suffer through my peanut-butter breath. But Tess isn’t there. It’s just the wormy kid looking at me like he might vomit on my shoes.

  “Hey,” I say. I stand in front of him, waiting for him to speak. He just looks at the ground.

  “You gave me the note, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, did you want to talk to me or were you getting me for someone else?”

  “I, um, well, I just, um . . . .”

  “Seriously, kid. You look like you’re going to pass out. Calm down.”

  “The other kids say you’re an atheist.”

  “I guess I am. Why?”

  “You guess?”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t guess. Yeah, I’m an atheist. Why? Are you going to try to save me?”

  “No,” he says looking me straight in the eye. “Because I am too.” He breathes out like he’s just confessed to murder. “I’ve never told anyone that before. I mean, I knew other people like me were out there. Until you got here, I’d never met one. So I’ve never been able to say those words out loud.”

  “You know if you hang out with me you’ll look as good to the other students as a flaming bag of crap.”

  “You think they talk to me now anyway?”

  “Your parents won’t mind you hanging out with someone like me?”

  “It’s just my mom and she’s drunk most of the time so she won’t notice.”

  “Oh.”

  “Everyone knows. The church might be big, but you can smell her coming down the aisles. People laugh at her.”

  “They probably feel bad,” I say, wanting to make the kid feel better.

  “Not bad enough to help though.”

  “Have you talked to the preacher guy? Maybe he can help.”

  “She’s been to rehab three times. It doesn’t last. Anyway, I didn’t bring you up here so you could feel bad for me. I just wanted to talk to someone who doesn’t drink the Kool-Aid.”

  “I’m Ben,” I say, holding out my hand, feeling oddly formal.

  “James,” he says, reaching out to shake back.

  We sit down and James immediately starts throwing question after
question at me. Kind of like Tess did. I guess they don’t get many New Englanders over here. I tell him that where I live there are atheists, Jews, Christians, Muslims, all sorts of people.

  “Not in this town,” says James. “Just Christians and more Christians. You can’t go an hour without someone mentioning Jesus. It’s so annoying.”

  This kid has never met a Jewish person. Or a gay person. He’s seen them on TV. That’s it.

  “It’s like, you grow up and hear for so long that something is bad,” he says, “that you think you’re a bad person for thinking a different way, and then I meet someone like you and all of a sudden, those things I’ve been told are wrong are totally okay a few thousand miles away.”

  “Are you gay?”

  “No. Those guys you were with think I am though.” He leans in and whispers, “I like Beth. Tess’s friend. But she’s out of my league. Not that anyone here would date an atheist anyway.”

  “You’d be surprised who a girl would date,” I say, smirking.

  “In this town? Fat chance.”

  “So you’ve never met anyone else who didn’t believe in god? Really?”

  “Never.”

  “Well, welcome to the religious freedom club. You can believe whatever the hell you want.”

  “At church they say atheists are terrible people. That they do terrible things and that they live their lives with a big hole in their souls where god is supposed to be.”

  “That’s bull. Just because they don’t understand what I believe doesn’t mean I’m empty. As for doing bad stuff, don’t Christians do bad things?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, then they shouldn’t talk. Most religions have the big stuff in common, right? Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Don’t mouth off to your elders. Don’t lie. Common sense stuff. It’s just that I don’t need a god to tell me that. I’ve figured it out on my own. I mean, you’re an atheist and you seem like a nice kid.”

  He smiles, “I stole a comic book once.”

  “How did you feel after?”

  “Not so good. I sent them money in an envelope.”

  “Because you were afraid of going to hell?”

  “Because I felt bad.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “So you want to hang out some time?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  Chapter 12

  Stop Staring at Girls

  For the next few days I barely see Tess at school. Every day when three o’clock hits we both go home and chat online while we do our homework. Sometimes we video chat and I get to see her in her horse pajamas. And then I make fun of her for wearing horse pajamas.

  James and I hang out during lunch and he’s actually pretty cool. Because his mom is out of it most of the time, he sneaks out and sees movies and buys comic books. I lend him a bunch of my graphic novels like Maus and Bone and Y: The Last Man. I think he stopped doing his homework and now just reads graphic novels. He comes by my house a few times a week for reading material and food. His refrigerator is usually on the empty side.

  Even though I have a girlfriend who lives across the street, which might just be the coolest thing ever, I’ve only been able to see her once since the night we snuck out. Well, I see her at school, but we have to ignore each other. We met behind the shed one more time but we’re trying to limit it to once a week. She’s terrified of getting caught. Although g-chatting doesn’t let us kiss, we do get to hang out for hours every night.

  The odd thing is that Seth and Margaret haven’t texted or called at all. Everything was fine when I left and I don’t think I could have pissed them off from all the way over here. Whether or not they’re mad at me, I’m mad at them now. We’ve been friends for years and they can’t even tell me what’s going on? That’s just messed up.

  At lunch, James tells me I should forget about them.

  “They seem like crappy friends anyway.”

  “You don’t understand. They were great friends. We’d hang out every day.”

  “Maybe they made new friends?”

  “Seth has no idea how to make friends and Margaret is shy.”

  “You made new friends.”

  “I have two new friends. One I can’t be seen with in public and the other is a kid no one else talks to.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “That I’m a loser?”

  “That you have nothing in common with the kids in this school. Neither do I.”

  “So we’re both losers.”

  “It’s good. They leave us alone. You should actually do what Tess and I are doing.”

  “What?”

  “Our homework.”

  “I do my homework. Most days.”

  “I don’t just mean do it. I mean do it so well that they have no choice but to give you A’s.”

  “Why? My mom barely remembers to look at my report cards.”

  “Because, those good grades will be your ticket out of here.”

  “You know my dad went here? He donated a bunch of money to the school before he died so my tuition is paid for. Which is good considering we don’t have much money left. Definitely not enough for me to go to college anyway.

  “You could just spend the next four years studying your ass off and get a free ticket to whatever school you want. I’m telling you, being smart is our way out of here.”

  After what seems like weeks, the first meeting for the talent show finally arrives. Tess and I can be in the same room without getting in trouble.

  Frank shows up for the first few minutes to get us started. He puts a senior named Trent, the guy who originally suggested the idea, in charge of the group. There are about twelve kids in the room.

  “Okay,” says Trent. “First, I want to thank you all for being here. I can’t wait to hear all of your ideas for the show. I talked to St. Mary’s Children’s Hospital yesterday and they said they would love to have us come perform for their kids. We scheduled our performance for December twelfth. That gives us two and a half months to prep. First, we’re going to perform here for parents and friends as a fundraiser on December eleventh and then we’ll take the show to the hospital and give them the money we raised. Now we’re going to go around the room and I want to hear from each of you what you think you can contribute.”

  A group of three girls say that they want to sing and dance. Four guys who have a Christian rock band want to play music. Another two kids want to do a dramatic version of a scene from the Bible. Seriously. While the drama kids give a detailed outline of their short play, Tess and I look at each other. Not obviously. But enough that she has to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself from laughing.

  I wish I were sitting next to her. We could be holding hands. That’s what couples do. They hold hands and meet after class and have lunch together. They go to the movies. They try to sneak alone time in a house when no parents are home.

  One day a month in this school you get to wear your street clothes and Tess is wearing a blue dress with a red cardigan. She looks awesome. Well, she’s waving me off now instead of smiling. Why is she doing . . .

  “Ben?”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “That’s the third time I’ve said your name.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just was thinking about my project.”

  A few of the kids look at Tess and back at me and laugh.

  “Great. Care to share?” asks Trent.

  They all look at me intensely. Like they’re really curious about what I’m going to say. Maybe they think my talent is going to be devil-worshipping.

  “I want to put on a magic show,” I say, pretending not to notice the kids laughing. “I can put on a ten to fifteen minute show.”

  “That’s great, Ben.�
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  The next sentence he kind of says to everyone but it’s pretty obvious he’s just talking to me.

  “I don’t think I need to tell you that all acts have to be appropriate and family friendly. This show should make parents want to give money and make sick kids happy. That’s why we’re here. Now, Tess, you’re last. What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t really have a talent I can do for the show. I thought I could be the stage manager. Make sure everyone has their props and give everyone their cue.”

  “That’s a great idea, Tess. Thanks for volunteering for that. Also, the school choir has agreed to sing for the show. Now that we have the talent, we need publicity. We’re going to meet every Wednesday after school for an hour from now until December to rehearse and promote. We’ll make posters and think of other ways to get the word out. Sound good?” Everyone nods. “You’re all dismissed. Have a great day and start working on your talent.”

  The students all put their stuff away as fast as possible. Only Tess and I take our time. Trent packs up his backpack and when he gets to the door he looks back at me and Tess, smirks, nods, and then closes the door behind him.

  Tess turns red.

  “Are we that obvious?” she asks.

  “I didn’t think so, but more important Trent is a good dude. ”

  “Yeah. He’s always been really nice. He actually went out with Angela. He dumped her after he found out that she’s, you know, mean.”

  I put my bag down, walk over to Tess, and kiss her. She wraps her arms around me for a minute, then pulls away.

  “We shouldn’t be in here,” she says.

  “The teachers are gone. The other kids are gone.” I lean in to kiss her again.

  “I just . . . I don’t want to risk it,” she says, pulling farther away. “And I need to go get my brothers.”

  “You’re such a good older sister. I’m lucky. I’ve just got older siblings so they had to take care of me.”

  “You only ever really talk about your brother. What’s your sister like?”

  “She’s cool.”

  “Where is she?”