Chapter Two

It was time to dump Jonathan.

“Tell me again why you’re doing this? ” Lissa asked me. She was sitting on my bed, flipping through my CDs and smoking a cigarette, which was fast stinking up my room even though she’d sworn it wouldn’t, since she had it halfway out the window. Even before I quit I’d hated the stink of smoking, but with Lissa I always let things slide more than I should have. I think everyone has at least one friend like that. “I mean, I like Jonathan. ”

“You like everybody, ” I told her, leaning closer to the mirror and examining my lip liner.

“That’s not true, ” she said, picking up a CD and turning it over to examine the back. “I never liked Mr. Mitchell. He always looked at my boobs when I went up to do theorems on the board. He looked at everybody’s boobs. ”

“Lissa, ” I said, “high school is over. And besides, teachers don’t count. ”

“I’m just saying, ” she said.

“The thing is, ” I went on as I lined my lips, turning the pencil slowly, “that it’s summer now, and I’m leaving for school in September. And Jonathan… I don’t know. He’s just not a keeper. He’s not worth working my schedule around if we’re only going to break up in a few weeks anyway. ”

“But you might not break up. ”

I leaned back, admiring my handiwork, and smudged a bit along my top lip, evening it out. “We’ll break up, ” I said. “I’m not going to Stanford with any other entanglements than absolutely necessary. ”

She bit her lip, then tucked a springy curl behind one ear, ducking her head with the hurt expression she always got lately when we talked about the end of the summer. Lissa’s safe zone was the eight weeks left before we all split for different directions, and she hated to think past that. “Well, of course not, ” she said quietly. “I mean, why would you? ”

“Lissa, ” I said, sighing. “I didn’t mean you. You know that. I just mean”‑ I gestured to the bedroom door, slightly ajar, beyond which we could hear my mother’s typewriter still clacking, with violins drifting in the background‑ “you know. ”

She nodded. But in truth I knew she didn’t understand. Lissa was the only one of us who was even slightly sentimental about high school being over. She’d actually cried at graduation, great heaving sobs, ensuring that in every picture and video she’d be red‑ eyed and blotchy, giving her something to complain about for the next twenty years. Meanwhile, me, Jess, and Chloe couldn’t wait to get across that stage and grab our diploma, to be free at last, free at last. But Lissa had always felt things too deeply. That was what made us all so protective of her, and why I worried most about leaving her behind. She’d gotten accepted into the local university with a full scholarship, a deal too good to pass up. It helped that her boyfriend, Adam, was going there too. Lissa had it all planned out, how they’d go to freshman orientation together, live in dorms that were in close proximity, share a couple of classes. Just like high school, but bigger.

The very thought of it made me itch. But then, I wasn’t Lissa. I’d powered through the last two years with my eyes on one thing, which was getting out. Getting gone. Making the grades I needed to finally live a life that was all my own. No wedding planning. No messy romantic entanglements. No revolving door of stepfathers. Just me and the future, finally together. Now there was a happy ending I could believe in.

Lissa reached over and turned up the radio, filling the room with some boppy song with a la‑ la‑ la chorus. I walked over to my closet, pulling open the door to examine my options.

“So what do you wear to dump somebody? ” she asked me, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. “Black, for mourning? Or something cheerful and colorful, to distract them from their pain? Or maybe you wear some sort of camouflage, something that will help you disappear quickly in case they don’t take it well. ”

“Personally, ” I told her, pulling out a pair of black pants and turning them in my hands, “I’m thinking dark and slimming, a bit of cleavage. And clean underwear. ”

“You wear that every night. ”

“This is every night, ” I replied. I knew I had a clean red shirt I liked somewhere in my closet, but I couldn’t find it in the shirt section. Which meant somebody had been in there, picking around. I kept my closet the way I kept everything: neat and tidy. My mother’s house was usually in chaos, so my room had always been the only place I could keep the way I chose. Which was in order, perfectly organized, everything where I could easily find it. Okay, so maybe I was a little obsessive. But so what? At least I wasn’t a slob.

“Not for Jonathan, ” she said, and when I glanced at her she added, “I mean, this is a big night for him. He’s getting dumped. And he doesn’t even know it yet. He’s probably eating a cheese‑ burger or flossing or picking up his dry cleaning, and he has no idea. No inkling. ”

I gave up on the red shirt, pulling out a tank top instead. I didn’t even know what to say to her. Yes, it sucked getting dumped. But wasn’t it better to just be brutally honest? To admit that your feeling for someone is never going to be powerful enough to justify taking up any more of their time? I was doing him a favor, really. Freeing him up for a better opportunity. In fact, I was a practically a saint, if you really thought about it.

Exactly.

A half hour later, when we pulled up to the Quik Zip, Jess was waiting for us. As usual, Chloe was late.

“Hey, ” I said, walking over to her. She was leaning against her big tank of a car, an old Chevy with a sagging bumper, and sucking on an Extra Large Zip Coke, our drug of choice. They were the best bargain in town, at $1. 59, and served a multitude of uses.

“I’m getting Skittles, ” Lissa called out, slamming her door. “Anybody want anything? ”

“Zip Diet, ” I told her, and reached for my money, but she shook me off, already heading inside. “Extra large! ”

She nodded as the door swung shut behind her. She even walked perkily, hands jauntily in her pockets as she headed for the candy aisle. Lissa’s sweet tooth was infamous: she was the only person I knew who could discern between Raisinets and chocolate‑ covered raisins. There was a difference.

“Where’s Chloe? ” I asked Jess, but she just shrugged, not even taking her lips off the straw of her Zip Coke. “Did we not say seven‑ thirty sharp? ”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Calm down, anal retentive, ” she said, shaking her drink. The ice rattled around, sloshing in what was left of the liquid. “It’s just six right now. ”

I sighed, leaning back against her car. I hated when people were late. But Chloe always ran five minutes behind, on a good day. Lissa was usually early, and Jess was Jess: solid as a rock, there right on the dot. She’d been my best friend since the fifth grade, and was the only one I knew I could always depend on.

We’d met because our desks sat side by side, per Mrs. Douglas’s alphabet system. Mike Schemen the nose picker, then Jess, then me, with Adam Struck, who had bad adenoids, on my other side. It was practically required that we be best friends, seeing as we were surrounded by the booger twins.

Jess was big, even then. She wasn’t fat, exactly, just like she wasn’t fat now. More just large, big‑ boned, tall and wide. Thick. Back then, she was larger than any of the boys in our class, brutal at dodgeball, able to hit you hard enough with one of those red medicine balls before school that it left a mark that lasted through final bell. A lot of people thought Jess was mean, but they were wrong. They didn’t know what I knew: that her mom had died that summer, leaving her to raise two little brothers while her dad worked full‑ time at the power plant. That money was always tight, and Jess didn’t get to be a kid anymore.

And eight years later, after making it through some hellish middle school and decent high school years, we were still close. Mostly because I did know these things about her, and Jess still kept most stuff to herself. But also because she was one of the only people who just didn’t take my shit, and I had to respect that.

“Looky look, ” she said now in her flat voice, crossing her arms over her chest. “The queen has arrived. ”

Chloe pulled up beside us, cutting the engine on her Mercedes and flipping down the visor to check her lipstick. Jess sighed, loudly, but I ignored her. This was old news, her and Chloe, like background music. Only if things were really quiet or dull did the rest of us even notice it anymore.

Chloe got out, slamming her door, and came over to us. She looked great, as usual: black pants, blue shirt, cool jacket I hadn’t seen before. Her mom was a flight attendant and a compulsive shopper, a deadly combination that resulted in Chloe always having the newest stuff from the best places. Our little trendsetter.

“Hey, ” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Where’s Lissa? ”

I nodded toward the Quik Zip, where Lissa was now at the counter, chatting up the guy behind the counter as he rang up her candy. We watched as she waved good‑ bye to him and came out, a bag of Skittles already opened in one hand. “Who wants one? ” she called out, smiling as she saw Chloe. “Hey! God, great jacket. ”

“Thanks, ” Chloe said, brushing her fingers over it. “It’s new. ”

“Is that surprising? ” Jess said sarcastically.

“Is that diet? ” Chloe shot back, eyeing the drink in Jess’s hand.

“All right, all right, ” I said, waving my hand between them. Lissa handed me my Zip Diet, and I took a big sip, savoring the taste. It was the nectar of the gods. Truly. “What’s the plan? ”

“I have to meet Adam at Double Burger at six‑ thirty, ” Lissa said, popping another Skittle into her mouth. “Then we’ll catch up with you guys at Bendo or whatever. ”

“Who’s at Bendo? ” Chloe asked, jangling her keys.

“Don’t know, ” Lissa said. “Some band. There’s also a party we can go to in the Arbors, Matthew Ridgefield has a keg somewhere and, oh, and Remy has to dump Jonathan. ”

Now, everyone looked at me. “Not necessarily in that order, ” I added.

“So Jonathan’s out. ” Chloe laughed, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her jacket pocket. She held them out to me, and I shook my head.

“She quit, ” Jess said to her. “Remember? ”

“She’s always quitting, ” Chloe replied, striking a match and leaning into it, then shaking it out. “What’d he do, Remy? Stand you up? Declare undying love? ”

I just shook my head, knowing what was coming.

Jess grinned and said, “He wore a nonmatching outfit. ”

“Smoked in her car, ” Chloe said. “That’s got to be it. ”

“Maybe, ” Lissa offered, pinching my arm, “he made a major grammatical error and was fifteen minutes late. ”

“Oh, the horror! ” Chloe shrieked, and all three of them burst out laughing. I just stood there, taking it, realizing not for the first time that they only seemed to get along when ragging on me as a group.

“Funny, ” I said finally. Okay, so maybe I did have a bit of history with expecting too much from relationships. But God, at least I had standards. Chloe only dated college guys who cheated on her, Jess avoided the issue by never dating anyone, and Lissa‑ well, Lissa was still with the guy she lost her virginity to, so she hardly counted at all. Not that I was going to point this out. I mean, I was all about the high road.

“Okay, okay, ” Jess said finally. “How are we doing this? ”

“Lissa goes to meet Adam, ” I said. “You, me, and Chloe hit the Spot and then go on to Bendo. Okay? ”

“Okay, ” Lissa said. “I’ll see you guys later. ” As she drove off, and Chloe moved her car to the church parking lot next door, Jess lifted up my hand, squinting at it.

“What’s this? ” she asked me. I glanced down, seeing the black letters, smudged but still there, on my palm. Before leaving the house I’d meant to wash it off, then got distracted. “A phone number? ”

“It’s nothing, ” I said. “Just this stupid guy I met today. ”

“You heartbreaker, ” she said.

We piled into Jess’s car, me in front, Chloe in back. She made a face as she pushed aside a laundry hamper full of clothes, a football helmet, and some knee pads of Jess’s brothers, but she didn’t say anything. Chloe and Jess may have had their differences, but she knew where to draw the line.

“The Spot? ” Jess asked me as she cranked the engine. I nodded, and she put the car in reverse, backing up slowly. I reached forward and turned on the radio while Chloe lit another cigarette in the backseat, tossing the match out the window. As we were about to pull out onto the road, Jess nodded toward a big metal trash can by the gas pumps, about twenty feet away.

“Bet me? ” she asked, and I craned my neck, judging the distance, then picked up her mostly empty Zip Coke and shook it, feeling its weight.

“Sure, ” I said. “Two bucks. ”

“Oh, God, ” Chloe said from the backseat, exhaling loudly. “Now that we’re out of high school, can we please move on from this? ”

Jess ignored her, picking up the Zip Coke and pressing her hand around it, flexing her wrist, then stuck her arm out the driver’s‑ side window. She squinted, lifted her chin, and then, in one smooth movement, threw her arm up and released the Zip Coke, sending it arcing over our heads and the car. We watched as it turned end over end in the air, a perfect spiral, before disappearing with a crash, top still on and straw engaged, in the trash can.

“Amazing, ” I said to Jess. She smiled at me. “I never have been able to figure out how you do that. ”

“Can we go now? ” Chloe asked.

“Like everything else, ” Jess said, turning out into traffic, “it’s all in the wrist. ”

The Spot, where we always started our night, really belonged to Chloe. When her dad and mom divorced back in the third grade, he’d left town with his new girlfriend, selling off most of the property he’d amassed in town while working as a developer. He only kept one lot, out in the country past our high school, a grassy field with nothing on it but a trampoline he’d bought for Chloe on her seventh birthday. Chloe’s mom had banished it quick from the backyard‑ it didn’t match her English garden decor, all sculpted hedges and stone benches‑ and it ended up out on the land, forgotten until we were all old enough to drive and needed someplace of our own.

We always sat on the trampoline, which was set up in the middle of the pasture, with the best view of the stars and sky. It still had some good bounce to it, enough so that any sudden movement by anybody jostled the rest. Which was good to remember whenever you were pouring something.

“Watch it, ” Chloe said to Jess, her arm jerking as she poured some rum into my Zip Coke. It was one of those little airplane bottles, which her mom regularly brought home from work. Their liquor cabinet looked like it was designed for munchkins.

“Oh, settle down, ” Jess replied, crossing her legs and leaning back on her palms.

“It’s always like this when Lissa isn’t here, ” Chloe grumbled, opening up another bottle for herself. “The balance of weight gets all out of whack. ”

“Chloe, ” I said. “Give it a rest. ” I took a sip of my Zip Coke, now spiked, tasting the rum, and offered it to Jess purely out of politeness. She never drank, never smoked. Always drove. Being a mom for so long to her brothers made it a given she’d be the same to us.

“Nice night, ” I said to her now, and she nodded. “Hard to believe it’s all over. ”

“Thank God, ” Chloe said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Not a second too soon, either. ”

“Let’s drink to that, ” I said, and leaned forward to press my cup against her tiny bottle. Then we just sat there, suddenly quiet, no noise except the cicadas starting up in the trees all around us.

“It’s so weird, ” Chloe said finally, “that it doesn’t feel different now. ”

“What? ” I asked her.

“Everything, ” she said. “I mean, this is what we’ve been waiting for, right? High school’s over. It’s a whole new thing but it feels exactly the same. ”

“That’s because nothing new has started yet, ” Jess told her. She had her face tipped up, eyes on the sky above us. “By the end of the summer, then things will feel new. Because they will be. ”

Chloe pulled another tiny bottle‑ this time gin‑ out of her jacket pocket and popped the top. “It sucks to wait, though, ” she said, taking a sip of it. “I mean, for everything to begin. ”

There was the sound of a horn beeping, loud and then fading out as it passed on the road behind us. That was the nice thing about the Spot: you could hear everything, but no one could see you.

“This is just the in‑ between time, ” I said. “It goes faster than you think. ”

“I hope so, ” Chloe said, and I eased back on my elbows, tilting my head back to look up at the sky, which was pinkish, streaked with red. This was the time we knew best, that stretch of day going from dusk to dark. It seemed like we were always waiting for nighttime here. I could feel the trampoline easing up and down, moved by our own breathing, bringing us in small increments up and back from the sky as the colors faded, slowly, and the stars began to show themselves.

By the time we got to Bendo, it was nine o’clock and I had a nice buzz on. We pulled up, parked, and eyed the bouncer standing by the door.

“Perfect, ” I said, pulling down the visor to check my makeup. “It’s Rodney. ”

“Where’s my ID? ” Chloe said, digging through her jacket. “God, I just had it. ”

“Is it in your bra? ” I asked her, turning around. She blinked, stuck her hand down her shirt, and came up with it. Chloe kept everything in her bra: I. D., money, extra barrettes. It was like sleight of hand, the way she just pulled things from it, like quarters from your ear, or rabbits out of a hat.

“Bingo, ” she said, sticking it in her front pocket.

“So classy, ” Jess said.

“Look who’s talking, ” Chloe shot back. “At least I wear a bra. ”

“Well, at least I need one, ” Jess replied.

Chloe narrowed her eyes. She was a Bcup, and a small one at that, and had always been sensitive about it. “Well at least‑ ”

“Stop, ” I said. “Let’s go. ”

As we walked up, Rodney eyed us from where he was sitting on a stool propping the door open. Bendo was an eighteen‑ and‑ up club, but we’d been coming since sophomore year. You had to be twenty‑ one to drink, though, and with our fakes Chloe and I usually could get our hand stamped. Especially by Rodney.

“Remy, Remy, ” he said as I reached into my pocket, pulling out my fake. My name, my face, my brother’s birthday, so I could quote it quick if I had to. “How’s it feel to be a high school graduate? ”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, ” I said, smiling at him. “You know I’m a junior at the university. ”

He hardly glanced at my ID but squeezed my hand, brushing it with his fingers as he stamped it. Disgusting. “What’s your major? ”

“English lit, ” I said. “But I’m minoring in business. ”

“I got some business for you, ” he said, taking Chloe’s ID and stamping her hand. She was quick though, pulling back fast, the ink smearing.

“You’re an asshole, ” Jess told him, but he just shrugged, waving us in, his eyes on the next group of girls coming up the steps.

“I feel so dirty, ” Chloe sighed as we walked in.

“You’ll feel better after you have a beer. ”

Bendo was crowded already. The band hadn’t come on yet, but the bar was two deep and the air was full of smoke, thick and mixed with the smell of sweat.

“I’ll get a table, ” Jess called out to me, and I nodded, heading for the bar with Chloe behind me. We pushed through the crowd, dodging people, until we got a decent spot by the beer taps.

I’d just hoisted myself up on my elbows, trying to wave down the bartender, when I felt someone brush up against me. I tried to pull away, but it was packed where I was standing, so I just drew myself in a bit, pulling my arms against my sides. Then, very quietly, I heard a voice in my ear.

It said, in a weird, cheesy, right‑ out‑ of‑ one‑ of‑ my‑ mother’s‑ novels way, “Ah. We meet again. ”

I turned my head, just slightly, and right there, practically on top of me, was the guy from the car dealership. He was wearing a red Mountain Fresh Detergent T‑ shirt‑ NOT JUST FRESH: MOUNTAIN FRESH! ‑ it proclaimed, and was smiling at me. “Oh, God, ” I said.

“No, it’s Dexter, ” he replied, offering me his hand, which I ignored. Instead I glanced around behind me for Chloe, but saw she had been waylaid by a guy in a plaid shirt I didn’t recognize.

“Two beers! ” I shouted at the bartender, who’d finally seen me.

“Make that three! ” this Dexter yelled.

“You are not with me, ” I said.

“Well, not technically, ” he replied, shrugging. “But that could change. ”

“Look, ” I said as the bartender dropped three plastic cups in front of me, “I’m not‑ ”

“I see you still have my number, ” he said, interrupting me and grabbing one of the beers. He also slapped a ten down, which redeemed him a bit but not much.

“I haven’t had a chance to wash it off. ”

“Will you be impressed if I tell you I’m in a band? ”

“No. ”

“Not at all? ” he said, raising his eyebrows. “God, I thought chicks loved guys in bands. ”

“First off, I’m not a chick, ” I said, grabbing my beer. “And second, I have a steadfast rule about musicians. ”

“Which is? ”

I turned my back to him and started to elbow my way through the crowd, back to Chloe. “No musicians. ”

“I could write you a song, ” he offered, following me. I was moving so fast the beers I was carrying kept sloshing, but damn if he didn’t keep right up.

“I don’t want a song. ”

“Everybody wants a song! ”

“Not me. ” I tapped Chloe on the shoulder and she turned around. She had on her flirting face, all wide‑ eyed and flushed, and I handed her a beer and said, “I’m going to find Jess. ”

“I’m right behind you, ” she replied, waggling her fingers at the guy she’d been talking to. But crazy musician boy kept after me, still talking.

“I think you like me, ” he decided as I stepped on somebody’s foot, prompting a yelp. I kept moving.

“I really do not, ” I said, finally spying Jess in a corner booth, head propped on one elbow, looking bored. When she saw me she held up both hands, in a what‑ the‑ hell gesture, but I just shook my head.

“Who is this guy? ” Chloe called out from behind me.

“Nobody, ” I said.

“Dexter, ” he replied, turning a bit to offer her his hand while still keeping step with me. “How are you? ”

“Fine, ” she said, a bit uneasily. “Remy? ”

“Just keep walking, ” I called behind me, stepping around two guys in dreadlocks. “He’ll lose interest eventually. ”

“Oh, ye of little faith, ” he said cheerfully. “I’m just getting started. ”

We arrived at the booth in a pack: me, Dexter the musician, and Chloe. I was out of breath, she looked confused, but he just slid in next to Jess, offering his hand. “Hi, ” he said. “I’m with them. ”

Jess looked at me, but I was too tired to do anything but plop into the booth and suck down a gulp of my beer. “Well, ” she said, “ I’m with them. But I’m not with you. How is that possible? ”

“Well, ” he said, “it’s actually an interesting story. ”

No one said anything for a minute. Finally I groaned and said, “God, you guys, now he’s going to tell it. ”

“See, ” he began, leaning back into the booth, “I was at this car dealership today, and I saw this girl. It was an across‑ a‑ crowded‑ room kind of thing. A real moment, you know? ”

I rolled my eyes. Chloe said, “And this would be Remy? ”

“Right. Remy, ” he said, repeating my name with a smile. Then, as if we were happy honeymooners recounting our story for strangers he added, “Do you want to tell the next part? ”

“No, ” I said flatly.

“So, ” he went on, slapping the table for emphasis, making all our drinks jump, “the fact is that I’m a man of impulse. Of action. So I walked up, plopped down beside her, and introduced myself. ”

Chloe looked at me, smiling. “Really, ” she said.

“Could you go away now? ” I asked him just as the music overhead cut off and there was a tapping noise from the stage, followed by someone saying “check, check. ”

“Duty calls, ” he said, standing up. He pushed his half‑ finished beer over to me and said, “I’ll see you later? ”

“No. ”

“Okay, then! We’ll talk later. ” And then he pushed off, into the crowd, and was gone. We all just sat there for a second. I finished my beer, then closed my eyes and lifted the cup, pressing it to my temple. How could I already be exhausted?

“Remy, ” Chloe said finally in her clever voice. “You’re keeping secrets. ”

“I’m not, ” I told her. “It was just this stupid thing. I’d forgotten all about it. ”

“He talks too much, ” Jess decided.

“I liked his shirt, ” Chloe told her. “Interesting fashion sense. ”

Just then Jonathan slid in beside me in the booth. “Hello, ladies, ” he said, sliding his arm around my waist. Then he picked up crazy musician boy’s beer, thinking it was mine, and took a big sip. I would have stopped him, but just the fact that he did it was part of our problem. I hated it when guys acted proprietary toward me, and Jonathan had done that from the beginning. He was a senior too, a nice guy, but as soon as we’d started dating he wanted everyone to know it, and slowly began to encroach on my domain. He smoked my cigarettes, when I still smoked. Used my cell phone all the time to make calls, without asking, and got very comfortable in my car, which should have been the ultimate red flag. I cannot abide anyone even changing my station presets or dipping into my ashtray change, but Jonathan charged right past that and insisted on driving, even though he had a history of fender benders and speeding tickets as long as my arm. The stupidest part was that I let him, flushed as I was with love (not likely) or lust (more likely), and then he just expected I’d ride shotgun, in my own car, forever. Which just led to more Ken behavior‑ as in ultraboyfriend‑ like always grabbing onto me in public and drinking, without asking, what he thought was my beer.

“I’ve got to go back to the house for a sec, ” he said now, leaning close to my ear. He moved his hand from around my waist, so it was now cupping my knee. “Come with me, okay? ”

I nodded, and he finished off the beer, slapping the cup down on the table. Jonathan was a big partier, another thing I had trouble dealing with. I mean, I drank too. But he was sloppy about it. A puker. In the six months we’d been together I’d spent a fair amount of time at parties outside the bathroom, waiting for him to finish spewing so we could go home. Not a plus.

He slid out of the booth, moving his hand off my knee and closing his fingers around mine. “I’ll be back, ” I said to Jess and Chloe as someone brushed past, and Jonathan finally had to cease contact with me as the crowd separated us.

“Good luck, ” Chloe said. “I can’t believe you let him drink that guy’s beer. ”

I turned and saw Jonathan looking back at me, impatient. “Dead man walking, ” Jess said in a low voice, and Chloe snorted.

“Bye, ” I said, and pushed through the crowd, where Jonathan’s hand was extended, waiting to take hold of me again.

“Okay, look, ” I said, pushing him back. “We have to talk. ”

“Now? ”

“Now. ”

He sighed, then sat back on the bed, letting his head bonk against the wall. “Okay, ” he said, as if he were agreeing to a root canal, “go ahead. ”

I pulled my knees up on the bed, then straightened my tank top. “Running in for something” had quickly morphed into “making a few phone calls” and then he was all over me, pushing me back against the pillows before I could even begin my slow easing into the dumpage. But now, I had his attention.

“The thing is, ” I began, “things are really starting to change for me now. ”

This was my lead‑ up. I’d learned, over the years, that there was a range of techniques involved in breaking up with someone. You had your types: some guys got all indignant and pissed, some whined and cried, some acted indifferent and cold, as if you couldn’t leave fast enough. I had Jonathan pegged as the last, but I couldn’t be completely sure.

“So anyway, ” I continued, “I’ve just been thinking that‑ ”

And then the phone rang, an electronic shriek, and I lost my momentum again. Jonathan grabbed it. “Hello? ” Then there was a bit off umm‑ hmming, a couple of yeahs, and he stood up, walking across the room and into his bathroom, still mumbling.

I pulled my fingers through my hair, hating that my timing seemed to be off all night long. Still listening to him talking, I closed my eyes and stretched my arms over my head, then curled my fingers down the side of the mattress closest to the wall. And then I felt something.

When Jonathan finally hung up, checked himself in the mirror, and walked back into the bedroom, I was sitting there, cross‑ legged, with a pair of red satin bikini panties spread out on the bed in front of me. (I’d retrieved them using a Kleenex: like I’d touch them. ) He came strolling in, all confident, and, seeing them, came to a dead, lurching stop.

“Ummpthz, ” he said, or something like that, as he sucked in a breath, surprised, then quickly steadied himself. “Hey, um, what‑ ”

“What the hell, ” I said, my voice level, “are these? ”

“They aren’t yours? ”

I looked up at the ceiling, shaking my head. Like I’d wear cheap red, polyester panties. I mean, I had standards. Or did I? Look who I’d wasted the last six months on.

“How long, ” I said.

“What? ”

“How long have you been sleeping with someone else? ”

“It wasn’t‑ ”

“How long, ” I repeated, biting off the words.

“I just don’t‑ ”

“How long. ”

He swallowed, and for a second it was the only sound in the room. Then he said, “Just a couple of weeks. ”

I sat back, pressing my fingers to my temples. God, this was just great. Now not only was I cheated on, but other people had to know it, which made me a victim, which I hated most of all. Poor, poor Remy. I wanted to kill him.

“You’re an asshole, ” I said. He was all flushed, quaky, and I realized that he might have even been a whiner or weeper, had things gone differently. Amazing. You just never knew.

“Remy. Let me‑ ” He reached forward, touching my arm, but for once, finally, I was able to do what I wanted and yank it back as if he’d burned me.

“Don’t touch me, ” I snapped. I grabbed my jacket, knotting it around my waist, and headed for the door, feeling him stumbling behind me. I slammed door after door as I moved through the house, finally hitting the front walk with such momentum I was at the mailbox before I even realized it. I could feel him watching me from the front steps as I walked away, but he didn’t call out or say anything. Not that I wanted him to, or would have reconsidered. But most guys would have at least had the decency to try.

So now I was walking through this neighborhood, full‑ out pissed, with no car, in the middle of a Friday night. My first Friday night as a grown‑ up, out of high school, in the Real World. Welcome to it.

“Where the hell have you been? ” Chloe asked me when I finally got back to Bendo, with the help of City Transit, about twenty minutes later.

“You are not going to believe‑ ” I began.

“Not now. ” She took my arm, pulling me through the crowd and back outside, where I saw Jess was in her car, the driver’s door open. “We have a situation. ”

When I walked up to the car, I didn’t even see Lissa at first. She was balled up in the backseat, clutching a wad of those brown school‑ restaurant‑ public‑ bathroom kind of paper towels. Her face was red and tear streaked, and she was sobbing.

“What the hell happened? ” I asked, yanking open the back door and sliding in beside her.

“Adam b‑ b‑ broke up with m‑ m‑ me, ” she said, her voice gulping in air. “He just d‑ d‑ dumped me. ”

“Oh, my God, ” I said as Chloe climbed in the front seat, slamming the door behind her. Jess, already turned around facing us, looked at me and shook her head.

“When? ”

Lissa took in another breath, then burst into tears again. “I can’t, ” she mumbled, wiping her face with a paper towel. “I can’t e‑ e‑ ven‑ ”

“Tonight, when she picked him up from work, ” Chloe said to me. “She took him back to his house so he could take a shower and he did it there. No warning. Nothing. ”

“I had to walk p‑ p‑ past his p‑ p‑ parents, ” Lissa added, sniffling. “And they knew. They looked at me like I was a kicked d‑ d‑ dog. ”

“What did he say? ” I asked her.

“He told her, ” Chloe said, clearly in her spokesperson role, “that he needed his freedom because it was summer and high school was over and he didn’t want either of them to miss any opportunities in college. He wanted to make sure that they‑ ”

“M‑ m‑ made the most of our lives, ” Lissa finished, wiping her eyes.

“Jerk, ” Jess grumbled. “You’re better off. ”

“I l‑ l‑ love him! ” Lissa wailed, and I reached over, sliding my arm around her.

“It’s okay, ” I said.

“And I had no idea, ” she said, taking in a deep breath, which shuddered out, all bumpy, as she tossed aside the paper towel she was holding, letting it fall to the floor. “How could I not even have known? ”

“Lissa, you’ll be okay, ” Chloe told her, her voice soft.

“It’s like I’m Jonathan, ” she sobbed, leaning into me. “We were just living our lives, picking up the dry cleaning‑ ”

“What? ” Jess said.

“… unaware, ” Lissa finished, “that t‑ t‑ tonight we’d be d‑ d‑ dumped. ”

“Speaking of, ” Chloe said to me, “how’d that go? ”

“Don’t ask, ” I said.

Lissa was full‑ out crying now, her face buried in my shoulder. Over Chloe’s head I could see Bendo was fully packed, with a line out the door. “Let’s get out of here, ” I said to Jess, and she nodded. “This night has sucked anyway. ”

Chloe dropped down into the front passenger seat, punching in the car lighter as Jess cranked the engine. Lissa blew her nose in the paper towel I handed her, then settled into small, quick sobs, curling against me. As we pulled out I patted her head, knowing how much it had to hurt. There is nothing so bad as the first time.

Of course we had to have another round of Zip Drinks. Then Chloe left, and Jess pulled back out into traffic to take me and Lissa to my house.

We were almost to the turnoff to my neighborhood when Jess suddenly slowed down and said, very quietly, to me, “There’s Adam. ”

I cut my eyes to the left, and sure enough, Adam and his friends were standing around in the parking lot in front of the Coffee Shack. What really bugged me was that he was smiling. Jerk.

I glanced behind me, but Lissa had her eyes closed, stretched out across the backseat, listening to the radio.

“Pull in, ” I said to Jess. I turned around in my seat. “Hey Liss? ”

“Hmmm? ” she said.

“Be still, okay? Stay down. ”

“Okay, ” she said uncertainly.

We chugged along. Jess said, “You or me? ”

“Me, ” I told her, taking a last sip of my drink. “I need this tonight. ”

Jess pushed the gas a little harder.

“You ready? ” she asked me.

I nodded, my Zip Diet balanced in my hand. Perfect.

Jess gunned it, hard, and we were moving. By the time Adam looked over at us, it was too late.

It wasn’t my best. But it wasn’t bad either. As we whizzed by, the cup turned end over end in the air, seeming weightless. It hit him square in the back of the head, spilling Diet Coke and ice in a wave down his back.

“Goddammit! ” he yelled after us as we blew past. “Lissa! Dammit! Remy! You bitch! ”

He was still yelling when I lost sight of him.

After a sleeve and a half of Oreos, four cigarettes, and enough Kleenex to pad the world, I finally got Lissa to go to sleep. She was out instantly, breathing through her nose, legs tangled around my comforter.

I got a blanket, one pillow, and went into my closet, where I stretched out across the floor. I could see her from where I was, and made sure she was still sleeping soundly as I pushed aside the stack of shoe boxes I kept in the far right corner and pulled out the bundle I kept there, hidden away.

I’d had such a bad night. I didn’t do this all the time, but some nights I just needed it. Nobody knew.

I curled up, pulling the blanket over me, and opened the folded towel, taking out my portable CD player and headphones. Then I slipped them on, turned off the light, and skipped to track seven. There was a skylight in my closet, and if I lay just right, the moonlight fell in a square right across me. Sometimes I could even see stars.

The song starts slowly. A bit of guitar, just a few chords. Then a voice, one I knew so well. The words I knew by heart. They did mean something to me. Nobody had to know. But they did.

This lullaby is only a few words

A simple run of chords

Quiet here in this spare room

But you can hear it, hear it

Wherever you may go

I will let you down

But this lullaby plays on…

I’d fall asleep to it, to his voice. I always did. Every time.