This choice: Hang out with Eric's friends • Go Back...Chapter #42In Which Someone Else's Problems Are Now Your Own by: Seuzz   Your check out your text messages as you swagger down the breezeway, and discover that you turned the alerts off at some point last night. Probably when you went off with Brianna, but you really don't remember. But there's nothing in them you need to worry about now, and the messages from "Maria" and "Eva" and even "Cindy" were only of the impatient wehre r u? kind. It's enough to curdle the temptation to fuck with Fairfax by searching them out.
It's still early in the morning -- only a little after 7:30 -- but you arrived early so you can hit the cafeteria. Since Eric's mom put his dad on a high-fiber diet, breakfasts at home have turned prune-flavored, so he's been coming to school early to supplement his morning meal. He's not on the school food plan, though, so he has to pay some of the guys to bring him eggs and bacon and a powdered donut. Then he sits in a corner and jaws with them.
There's four of them today. Cody Wooten and Roy Booth were at the river last night, so the conversation starts by reliving the party. But after a few minutes of that, and while you're still gulping down some rubbery scrambled eggs, Spencer Osbourne grasps you by the chin and pushes your head back. "Hey, hands to yourself," you yell, and knock his arm back.
"Just checking for hickeys," he snickers.
"Hickeys from what? Oh!"
Everyone at the table laughs. "Nah, we did it all in each other's mouths," you report. "She was, like, I hear you're a great kisser, so I'm, like, sure, lemme show you."
"She's a brave girl," Roy says.
"Eat a dick, man." Then you catch the veiled glances being passed around. "What?"
A couple of shrugs get made, and when you turn back around you find Spencer grinning at you. Spencer likes to act like he's Jack Nicholson or something like that, so he's always arching his eyebrows and grinning like he's just got off the phone to Hell and knows everyone's secrets. "We're talkin' 'bout Melanie," he says, and he laughs dryly in the back of his throat.
"Shut up, man," murmurs Zachary Herman, who's sitting on the other side of him.
"No we're not," you retort. "We're talking about Brianna. I went off with her last night -- "
"We're talking about Melanie."
You blink hard. Then your throat constricts. "What about Melanie?"
Spencer's eyebrows arch a little more. "How much action you been getting since you broke up with her?"
"We didn't break up! We never even said we were dating!"
Spencer's eyes dance. "How much?"
"Plenty!"
"Who?"
You glare at him, then whip your head around to glare at the rest of the table. Cody, Roy, Zachary, even Michael Hurst, who's sitting by himself a little further off, are watching you with bright-eyed interest.
Now that you think of it, action has been a bit thin lately. Every time you got up close to a girl at a party, she would wander off with some excuse or other. You -- okay, Eric -- hadn't really noticed how much of a drought there'd been, though, because when one girl squirmed away he just went and got another one. But now that you think of it, they would squirm away too.
Not that you're about to admit that to these guys. "Okay, so there was Brianna last night." You start ticking off your fingers. "And Rebecca, me and Rebecca danced and made out at the Warehouse last Saturday -- "
"Harlen's Rebecca?" Cody asks.
"She's not his Rebecca. They're not exclusive or anything."
"I'll vouch, I saw 'em dancing together," Spencer says. "Well, I saw 'em dancing and they were kind of close to each other," he snickers.
"That's what happens when you dance with someone. And Hermione, at Philippa's party last week." She was one of the girls that squirmed away. "Philippa, too. Rachel -- "
"Swimmer's Itch Rachel?" Roys asks.
"Eat a dick," you tell him again. "And we almost got interrupted. I mean, we would have totally done it," you hastily correct yourself, "'cept we got interrupted. Donna Hawkins." You have never in your two lives met a girl named Donna Hawkins, but the name passes muster with the table, so you continue inventing girls to have kissed. "Jocelyn, and this girl Anne from Eastman. Um. Susie. And -- "
"Not Susie Luau," exclaims Roy.
"No, Susie something else, she's a sophomore, you wouldn't know her."
"How do you know her?" Spencer asks.
"Met her through one of her friends in my math class," you lie with such fluency that you startle even yourself. "We wound up hanging out after school, gave each other some backrubs and stuff. You know." Best to leave it vague. "Also -- "
"Sure, Eric." Roy pulls off his Mets baseball cap -- a soft, dirty, smelly thing -- and buries his face in it. From the way his shoulders shake, it looks like he's laughing.
"Eat. A. Dick. Man." You feel your face burning. "If you don't fucking believe me -- "
"Oh, we believe you," Spencer says. "I mean, Jesus." He shakes his head in acknowledged tribute to Eric Murphy's prowess at getting kisses and more of off girls. "The problem is," he continues, "is Melanie gonna believe it if we tell her?"
"Why the fuck would you tell her? The fuck is it her business for?"
Spencer grimaces without losing his grin. You look around at the others. Roy still has his face buried in his cap. Zachary looks away. Cody winces. You turn back to Spencer.
"No one wants to tell you, 'cos they know you'll freak out," he says as he leans in close. "But since you broke up with her, Melanie's been -- "
"I didn't break up with her!"
"Melanie's been going around saying she will kill any girl who fondles you back."
Spencer's chin goes down and his eyebrows go up. The devil grins at you from behind his grey-blue eyes.
* * * * *
Eric gets to school early so he can eat with friends, but that means he also has to find somebody to hang out with during his first-period study hall. Sometimes it'll be James Lamont, in the library. Sometimes, God help us all, it'll be David Kirkham and George Mendoza out by the portables. But this morning you pick Christian Padilla and Tim Gerard by the theater wing.
Naturally they hang out by the theater wing. Padilla -- or "Fish Taco," as he's sometimes called, on account of his "Mexican surfer" look -- is one of Charles Hartlein's occasional fuck buddies. Gerard -- who is officially "bi agreeable" but unofficially as straight as a ruler -- is a poet who even in the summer is rarely without a warm latte and a colorful scarf.
"Jeezum Fuck," you groan as you fall dazedly against the brick wall and slide to the grass. "Jeezum Fuck," you groan again as you bury your face in your knees.
You sense, rather than see, them exchange a look. "What's your problem?" Christian asks.
He was at the river last night too, so you can ask him about the Melanie situation and he'll know exactly why you're asking. "So is Melanie going to kill Brianna?" You raise your eyes to meet his.
His broad face -- usually so cheerful -- turns somber. Gerard looks up from the steaming Styrofoam cup he's cradling. "Brianna who?" he asks. "Kirschke?"
"No, Gould," Christian says. "You mean because of last night?" You nod. "Dude, so if you're worried about her, why'd you make out with her?"
"I didn't hear about Melanie and what she's been saying until just now!"
"Your Melanie?" Tim asks.
"She's not my Melanie!" you yell at him. "We never even said we were dating!"
"Dude, you were dating," says Christian. "You didn't have to say." You roll your eyes.
"So what's this about Melanie and Brianna?" Tim asks.
"We were all out at the river last night," Christian says. He's talking to Tim but he keeps his dark, grave eyes on you. "By the way, why didn't you show up?"
"I was studying with Susie."
"Susie Luau?" you ask.
Tim turns very prim -- one of his most annoying traits. "Don't call her that. Her name's Lekuawehe."
"But you know we were out at the river," Christian continues. "Eric went off with Brianna Gould and let her play with his hog."
"We just kissed!" But deep down, you're stupidly flattered that he called your member a "hog." Makes it sound fat and strong and meaty.
"Melanie's not gonna believe that's all you did," Christian says, "not after you went spelunking with Emma."
"It's none of her fucking business! But I just heard from Spencer and them -- How serious is she?"
"Who? Melanie?"
"Yeah! About -- " You shrug and roll your eyes so hard you almost topple over. "About 'killing' anyone who goes out with me?"
"How much action have you been getting?" Christian asks as Tim's mouth falls open.
Normally you (you and Eric both) would be absurdly pleased to have to field that question twice in twenty minutes. Now you just roll your eyes again.
"That's your answer," Christian says. "You know Melanie. And anyone who knows Melanie -- and all the girls you hang out with know her -- Well -- "
"She's talking about killing people?" Gerard squeals.
"Not literally!"
"Dude," says Christian. "We're talking about Melanie Saxon, right? I wouldn't bet against her meaning it literally. Back in middle school, I saw her chop a head off a doll with a meat cleaver, just to make a point. "
"So what am I gonna do?" you cry. "I can't go the rest of the year without -- " You fling out your hands. "You know!"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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