Blue Jeans and Sweatshirts

Home > Other > Blue Jeans and Sweatshirts > Page 8
Blue Jeans and Sweatshirts Page 8

by Jo Ramsey


  “When are we going to meet again?” Tracie leaned over the table and looked at Chastaine. “I felt like crap all weekend. I kept having nightmares or something.”

  “Were they nightmares, or were they something?” Chastaine put down her chicken sandwich. “We didn’t have a chance to plan the next meeting, and we have to have someone else host it. That was the deal. We take turns.”

  “We can do it at my house,” El-Al said. “As long as it isn’t Wednesday or Thursday. Or Friday, because we have a game.”

  “So pretty much we can’t have a meeting because of sports.” Chastaine sighed. “I thought after school would work for most people. I forgot you and Tony are all athletic and shit. Maybe we’ll have to do something over the weekend.”

  “If everyone’s available,” Evan said. “Some people have jobs or visitation or something.”

  The way he said “visitation” gave me a clue that something wasn’t good in his life. “Is your dad making you see him again?”

  “Of course. When I didn’t answer his texts, he got on Mom’s case. He told her if I don’t spend at least one weekend a month with him, he’s taking her to court again. I’m not putting her through another fight, so I told him if he leaves her alone, I’d visit him. He’s back on his ‘teach Evan to be a man’ kick, even though I think Brooke finally got through to him that being a man and being gay aren’t mutually exclusive. Now his problem is mostly the way I dress.” He touched the pink scarf he wore with his black button-down shirt. “He thinks I’m too effeminate, which is kind of the point.”

  “I like your scarf,” El-Al said. “I used to have a dress that color.”

  “It’s one of my favorite colors. I’m more of a royal blue kind of guy, though.” Evan tapped my hand. “No comment?”

  “Nothing to say, really.” I’d had enough bitching about Evan’s father lately. The guy yanked Evan around constantly, one minute trying to be a good dad and the next trying to turn Evan straight, or something close enough that no one would realize Evan was gay.

  I couldn’t say anything nice about him, especially since when he was married to Evan’s mother, he’d constantly made fun of my weight, even when I was only nine or ten. I’d wondered why Aunt Imogen had married him in the first place. Even though the divorce was hard on Evan, I was glad he and Aunt Imogen didn’t have to put up with his dad all the time anymore.

  “So we’re going to have to figure this out.” Chastaine took her phone out of her mini purse and flicked the screen. “Okay. Calendar. Today’s definitely too soon. Tomorrow, El-Al, the girls’ basketball team doesn’t have a game?”

  “The school we were supposed to play canceled. One of their teachers passed away over the weekend.” El-Al bowed her head for a second. “The boys’ game was canceled too, since it’s the same school.”

  “Tomorrow might not be enough notice either,” Tracie said. “I mean, I can probably make it, but not everyone might be able to.”

  “We just met Friday,” I said. “If we’re trying to meet once a week, we should try to do the same day every week. I know we can’t do this Friday, but we wouldn’t be able to do any other Tuesdays besides tomorrow, either, because of basketball. And I guess Friday didn’t work for everyone anyway, since Xan and Alyssa weren’t there.”

  “Alyssa’s family was out of town,” Evan said. “Xan didn’t want to come without her. I talked to her over the weekend.”

  “We’re going to have to arrange things around way too many schedules.” Chastaine sighed. “This would work a whole lot better if the school would have let us be a club here.”

  “Yeah, well, they wouldn’t, because why would they want to help their students?” I drank some of my water so I wouldn’t start spouting off about how idiotic our school’s administration was sometimes. If it hadn’t been for them, Jim Frankel and Ray Ferreira wouldn’t have beaten Evan up, and Chastaine’s locker wouldn’t have been vandalized. And Maryellen Rourke wouldn’t have tried to kill herself and ended up in the hospital and then being pulled out of school.

  Some people sucked, and our administrators definitely were part of that group.

  I mostly ignored the rest of the conversation. The support group was my idea in the first place, but Chastaine had made it clear she planned on taking over. Just like she’d done with pretty much everything ever. I didn’t see any point in joining in the conversation, because she would end up making all the decisions no matter what anyone else said.

  By the time lunch ended, I’d eaten half my apple and finished my bottle of water. I got up and left the cafeteria before the others even finished cleaning up their trash. I didn’t feel like walking to class with any of them. I was getting tired of them all talking around me instead of including me.

  All of them except Tracie were in my class, though, and as soon as Evan and Guillermo walked in, they came over to my desk. I tried to ignore them, but naturally that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Why’d you take off so fast?” Evan asked. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m not feeling well.” I felt fine, but if I said otherwise, maybe they would leave me alone. “And I didn’t feel like going through another few rounds of ‘when can the support group meet again.’ Chastaine’s going to figure it all out anyway, so why should I bother saying anything?”

  “You’re the one who wanted to start the group,” Guillermo said.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, well, Chastaine kind of took over, like she usually does. It doesn’t matter. It sounds like no one’s going to be able to meet anyway, so I’m not going to stress over it. Let her figure it out.”

  “Come over after school,” Evan said.

  In the past I’d gone to his house almost every afternoon. But then he’d started dating Guillermo, and he hadn’t had as much time for me. And I’d started dating Chastaine, for whatever value of “dating,” so I didn’t have as much time for Evan either.

  I kind of missed hanging out watching TV and bitching about homework with him. Even though I wasn’t in the most social mood, going to his place after school sounded like fun.

  “Okay, as long as it’s okay with your mom,” I said.

  “She won’t mind, and if she does, you can leave when she gets there.” He patted my shoulder. “I think we should have some cousin time, that’s all.”

  “Yeah.” I managed to smile at him. “Sounds like fun.”

  For the rest of the day, I didn’t pay attention in class, and I tried to avoid talking to Chastaine again. Even though we’d apologized to each other that morning, so I wasn’t completely pissed at her anymore, I was afraid if I spent too much time around her, we would end up arguing again. Plus she probably wasn’t thrilled with how I’d acted at lunch. I didn’t want to give her the chance to bitch at me about it.

  After school I got what I needed out of my locker and walked the few feet up the hall to meet Evan at his locker. Chastaine was nowhere in sight. That was a relief. I wouldn’t have to deal with her again today.

  “Should we get snacks or anything on the way home?” Evan asked, closing his locker. “Or are you still not eating?”

  “Don’t start,” I snarled. Out of all the people I knew, Evan was usually the least judgmental and most supportive. He knew how much my weight bothered me, so he should have been glad I’d figured out a way to lose some instead of being a jerk about it.

  He sighed. “I’m not starting. I’m just worried about you. You’re pale as heck, and your mom called mine over the weekend and said you passed out because you weren’t eating.”

  “My mom needs to mind her own business.” I should have known Mom wouldn’t be able to keep anything from her sister. Naturally she had to go running to my aunt Imogen when she couldn’t handle me herself.

  It pissed me off that Aunt Imogen had told Evan, though.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what family does. Worry and try to help each other.” He hefted his backpack onto his shoulders and grimaced. “Is it just me, or are they giving us more homework now tha
n they did in the fall?”

  “Who knows?” I wasn’t in the mood to even think about homework, let alone talk about it. “All I know is I don’t want to hear anything more about whether I’m eating or not. If you want to go to the market and get snacks, fine. But I get to pick my own.”

  “As long as it’s food with some kind of calories.” He held up his hand. “I’m not getting bossy. Sorry.”

  “Uh huh.” He was always bossy. I was used to it, even though right now, he needed to just keep his mouth shut.

  We walked up the street from school to the town market, a small excuse for a grocery store that charged higher prices than the supermarket a few miles away. They could do that, since they were the only grocery place in town and some families had been shopping there for at least a couple of generations.

  Evan got a bag of chips and some ice cream. In his mind, eating ice cream when the temperature outside was below twenty made total sense. I got some celery and a small bag of pita chips. I wasn’t sure I would eat the chips, but at least Evan looked happier when he saw me holding the bag.

  We didn’t talk on the way from the market to his house, and we walked as fast as possible so we could get there and warm up.

  As soon as we were inside his apartment, he went into the kitchen with the ice cream, leaving the rest of the stuff we’d bought in the living room. “Hot chocolate?” he called.

  “No, thanks. Maybe tea?” I was pretty sure tea didn’t have calories, or at least not even close to as many as hot chocolate.

  “Tea sounds good.”

  I heard rattling in the other room as he filled the kettle and put it on the stove. While he did that, I took off my jacket and boots, then sat on the couch with my celery.

  Evan came back and took his chips out of the market bag. He sat cross-legged on the couch beside me and leaned forward to get the TV remote from the coffee table. “Anything you want to watch? I’d like to catch up on that show about the pageant coach.”

  “No drag queen competition?” That was usually his favorite show. He’d been watching it for a while, getting ideas for his own possible future drag career. When the bullying from Frankel and Ferreira had started getting serious, Evan had e-mailed one of the queens from the show, and now they got in touch with each other a couple of times a month. She encouraged him, and he fanboyed over her.

  “I’ve watched all of the past episodes they have on demand, and the next season doesn’t start until April.” He turned on the TV. “I like the pageant coach. She doesn’t get on people’s cases about their looks or their weight, and if someone doesn’t win a pageant, she tells them they did a good job anyway. It’s a cool show.”

  I didn’t have a clue what show he was talking about, but I nodded. “Sure. Whatever.”

  He found the show on demand and turned it on. Within the first few minutes, the pageant coach was talking to a group of teenage girls about how everyone could be beautiful and things like weight didn’t matter.

  I glared at Evan. “Trying to tell me something?”

  “Not really. I actually like this show.” He opened his chips. “But maybe you could learn something.”

  “Or not. If you’re going to try some stupid intervention thing, don’t bother. My parents already did that, and I’m getting tired of everyone telling me I should just stay fat.”

  My voice rose, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t doing anything wrong by trying to get healthy, no matter what anyone else said. People needed to just back off and leave me alone. It was one thing for my parents to be on my case. Parents did that kind of crap. But Evan should have known better.

  “Easy,” he said. “I’m not telling you to stay anything. I’m just saying, you look really good now. If you don’t feel good, that’s your thing. I can’t tell you how to feel. But you’re not healthy if you’re passing out or getting dizzy or whatever.”

  “Show me your medical degree and maybe I’ll listen.” I wanted to leave, but even when Evan annoyed the hell out of me, he was my cousin. Most of the time when we argued, we worked it out instead of walking out.

  He sighed. “Fine. I’ll drop the subject if you’ll do me one favor.”

  “Maybe.”

  The kettle whistled in the kitchen, and Evan quickly got up. “I’ll tell you after I get our tea.”

  “Can’t wait,” I muttered.

  He paused the TV show and went into the kitchen. I stayed where I was. He knew how I liked my tea, and I didn’t feel like following him into the other room, because he probably would have seen it as an excuse to keep lecturing me. I needed a break from the lectures so I wouldn’t go off on him.

  After a couple of minutes, he came back with two cups. He set one on the coffee table in front of me, and sat down holding the other. “Tea’s ready. Now for the favor.”

  “If it has anything to do with my weight—”

  “It doesn’t,” he said quickly. “I mean, it kind of does, but not exactly. The favor is, be honest.”

  I looked at him. Even for Evan, he wasn’t making much sense. “I am honest.”

  “Not entirely.” He tapped his cup with his finger. His nail made an irritating clinking sound that I tried to ignore. “You aren’t being honest about the eating thing. Not to people around you, and I kind of wonder if you’re even being honest with yourself. I think you’re ignoring how crappy you feel because you think it’s the price of getting thin.”

  “You said this wasn’t about my eating.” I started to stand up. “Maybe I should leave.”

  He put his hand on my arm. “Please wait. It isn’t only about eating. Just listen, okay? If you want to call me names and bail on me after I finish, fine, but at least let me finish.”

  “Whatever.” After all the things Evan had done for me over the years, I figured I owed him that much. I settled back onto my seat.

  “Whatever you say to other people about eating, please at least be honest with yourself,” he said. “If you’ll promise me that, I’ll back off. If you’re being honest with yourself, I won’t be so worried about whether you’re hurting yourself by not eating enough.”

  He looked at me expectantly. I just stared back. I didn’t have a clue what to say. If I gave him my word I’d be honest, at least one person would stop giving me a hard time. But then I would have to keep my word, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether I’d be able to.

  “I’ll try,” I said finally. “That’s the best I can do. I don’t feel crappy like you said. I feel like I’m losing weight and looking good, but not good enough yet. And I feel healthy because I’m not as fat.”

  “If you say so.” He sighed. “All right. I’ll accept trying. That isn’t the only thing, though.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” I rolled my eyes. “What else?”

  “You’re a lesbian. Chastaine’s… what? Bisexual?”

  “I guess. She says she doesn’t label herself.” She’d slept with plenty of guys before she and I started seeing each other, though, so as far as I was concerned, she was bi.

  “Okay.” He clinked the cup again. “But you’re still pretending to go out with Nathan. People are kind of noticing that you don’t actually spend time with him anymore. Before, everyone believed you and he were a couple. Even me, and I have finely honed gaydar.”

  “Bull. You didn’t even know Moe was gay until he told you.”

  He shrugged. “I wondered. I wondered about Nathan too. I never figured you weren’t straight, though. So I guess I’m not as honed as I thought. Anyway, people are talking.”

  “Because no one ever talks about anyone else at that damn school?” I leaned back and closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to think about this. Dealing with people hassling me about food was one thing. I could handle that. But dealing with people finding out I was a lesbian and was dating another girl wouldn’t be so easy. Especially when I wasn’t sure Chastaine would be okay with anyone finding out.

  “Obviously they do,” Evan said. “Now that all the crap about F-one has died down
and he’s gone off to juvie, they’ve run out of other things to say, I guess.”

  “They still talk about Chastaine sometimes,” I said. “Maryellen, too, even though she isn’t at school anymore.”

  “I know, but now they’re talking about you and Nathan too.” He put his cup on the coffee table. “He called me over the weekend. He said he’s getting tired of people making guesses about you and him.”

  “It isn’t my problem what other people think or say.” If Nathan couldn’t handle having people talk about him, he was definitely at the wrong school. And if he thought going to my cousin behind my back would change anything, he was an idiot.

  “It kind of is, since they’re making guesses about you and Chastaine too.”

  “Yeah, he said something about that this morning.” My brain was too foggy to remember exactly what Nathan had said, but the basic idea was still clear. “He thinks I should stop hanging around her so much so people don’t figure out she and I are together.”

  “Which would be dishonest,” Evan said. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you not to do. If you’re seeing Chastaine, see Chastaine, but stop pretending you and Nathan are a couple. At least admit to yourself whether you think you’re being fair to either of them. Believe me, I totally understand why you might not want to come out, but maybe at least stop pretending you’re straight.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I don’t know if it’s such a smart idea. What happened to accepting my choices, anyway?” My stomach was churning just from me thinking about letting people know I was homosexual.

  “I accept them. I don’t agree with them.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong to even ask you to stop faking being Nathan’s girlfriend and stuff. I just think you aren’t doing him or yourself any favors by putting on the act, I guess. I know it isn’t easy to be open, but sometimes I think it’s harder to hide.”

  “Maybe. I guess you know what you’re talking about.” Evan had been treated like shit since fifth grade because of his sexuality. Guillermo had survived coming out, but one of his football teammates had complained about having to change in the same locker room, and the guy’s parents had filed something against the school for allowing it. I didn’t know all the legal details, and I didn’t want to.

 

‹ Prev