Hung Up (6 page)

Lucy:
Well, let’s think about Lucy for a tiny bit longer. Imagine how it feels to know I wasn’t even your first choice. You made that clear by leading with your tragic Nan story.

James:
Fine. If you don’t want to go with me, you should just tell me.

Lucy:
I’m not saying that. I’m saying it could be weird. You might not like me.

James:
You’ve already said that. You know what? Fine. Whatever. Clearly this was a mistake.

Lucy:
Don’t say that. Don’t hang up. Okay. Okay. You’re right. This will be fun. I’m being weird and insecure.

James:
And annoying.

Lucy:
Hey. That’s mean. I’m trying to be super honest with you about how I’m feeling.

James:
Super honest? Lucy, I like you, as more than a friend. That’s why I asked you to the dance.

Lucy:
Wow.

James:
Wow?
That’s all you’ve got to say in response to what I just said?

Lucy:
Wow. And, also, um, I’m not used to dealing with super honest guys.

James:
I don’t want to hear about other guys right now.

Lucy:
Stop being angry at me. It makes me feel terrible.

James:
So you really want to go with me?

Lucy:
I thought I already said I did.

James:
You did it in a weird, circular, Lucy way. I want to be sure that you really want to go with me.

Lucy:
Point taken. Yes. Let’s go. Yes. I am saying yes.

James:
Good answer. Cool. Let’s get down to logistics. So where do you live?

Lucy:
Um. Okay. You want my address?

James:
Jesus, Lucy. Are you seriously not going to give me your address?

Lucy:
Calm down. That’s not what I’m saying. The thing is, my address won’t help you. I live in the country and it’s complicated. You’ll need directions, because none of the houses out here have numbers on them. And our mailbox is part of a row. So if you’re coming from the north into East Montpelier, and then travel east on Township Road, I’m the fourth house on the left. It’s on top of a hill.

James:
If you were willing to text me this information, it would be easier.

Lucy:
I’m not willing.

James:
Okay. I think I got it. Fourth house on Township Road. Top of the hill.

Lucy:
You can always call me if you get lost. And if you pass a giant barn with the words “Cream Dog” on it, you’ve gone too far.

James:
What does “Cream Dog” mean?

Lucy:
Probably something sexual. It’s graffiti. Okay. Moving on. Logistics. Should we talk about what we’re going to wear?

James:
I’d sort of like to talk more about what “Cream Dog” could mean.

Lucy:
Just think of the smuttiest thing ever, make it even smuttier, and you’re probably close.
Moving on.
Do you want to hear about my dress?

James:
Sure. Is it short?

Lucy:
Stop using the tone of voice like you’re still thinking about “Cream Dog.” My dress is normal-length blue.

James:
I have blue eyes.

Lucy:
Okay. My eyes are brown.

James:
This would probably be a good time to e-mail each other photos so we can see what we look like.

Lucy:
I don’t want to do that, James. I’m not a piece of meat.

James:
I didn’t want you to send me a naked picture.

Lucy:
I can’t believe it. I say the words “Cream Dog” and you turn into a totally different and horny person.

James:
I said
not
naked.

Lucy:
I’ll go to the dance with you, but I’m not going to send you a photo so you can approve of my looks. That’s lame.

James:
Fine. I get it. So let’s talk more logistics. The dance is a week from tonight.

Lucy:
I know. You’ve already told me that.

James:
I want to take you out for a nice dinner. So what do you like?

Lucy:
Um, Chinese food.

James:
That’s easy. We’ll go to Single Pebble.

Lucy:
Okay. You’ll have to meet my parents.

James:
Are they freaky?

Lucy:
They’re parents.

James:
Lucy Villaire, you’ve totally cheered me up.

Lucy:
I’m glad to hear that. But when we meet, I don’t want you to call me Lucy Villaire.

James:
Do you go by a nickname?

Lucy:
No. Lucy Villaire sounds so formal. Just call me Lucy.

James:
But I’ll call your parents Mrs. and Mr. Villaire, right?

Lucy:
Again, that’s very formal. We’re a casual group. Go ahead and call them Cherry and Wolf.

James:
Your parents’ names are Cherry and Wolf?

Lucy:
My mother’s birth name is Eileen. But everybody calls her Cherry. My father’s birth name is Wolf and everybody calls him Wolf.

James:
Do people howl at him?

Lucy:
James, do not howl at my father.

James:
Okay. I won’t. My parents’ names are Dot and Dan.

Lucy:
I’m meeting your parents? Are they, like, dance chaperones?

James:
No. I was just telling you their names. Why? Do you want to meet my parents?

Lucy:
Not really.

James:
That’s cool. It’s always nice to save something for later.

Lucy:
I guess.

James:
Okay. This has been a long talk. I think I’m going to go for a jog.

Lucy:
Seriously? It’s late. Do you wear reflectors?

James:
I have a vest that has reflective tape on it.

Lucy:
Good.

James:
Maybe we could go jogging sometime.

Lucy:
How do you know that I jog?

James:
You told me that you’re on the track team.

Lucy:
Oh yeah. Wow. You must take notes when we talk.

James:
You say things that stick. Like “James, do not howl at my father.”

Lucy:
I’m glad you’re in a better mood.

James:
Love sucks, Lucy. Nan sucks. Jairo sucks.

Lucy:
Love doesn’t suck. That’s just an awful situation.

James:
Do you think it’s true, what Jairo said? You can’t control who you like?

Lucy:
No. Nothing is that simple. You can’t betray your friends.

James:
That’s exactly how I feel. Like they betrayed me.

Lucy:
It’ll get better for you. And after their relationship falls apart, they’ll both feel like crap.

James:
Why are you so sure their relationship will tank?

Lucy:
It’s sort of inevitable. We’re young. We’re teenagers. These are our early relationships. These aren’t the people we’re going to marry.

James:
My parents met in high school.

Lucy:
But it’s really uncommon. It’s more common for someone to meet their husband in college.

James:
So you’re telling me that I’ve got to wait until I’m in college before I meet my husband?

Lucy:
That’s exactly what I’m saying. Not that I’m counting, but that’s the second time you’ve joked about being gay.

James:
I’m comfortable with my sexuality.

Lucy:
Good to know.

James:
We’re going to have a lot of fun. I’ll call you tomorrow to talk more about it.

Lucy:
You don’t have to call me every day.

James:
I know. If I thought I had to call you every day, then I wouldn’t want to call you.

Lucy:
You’re such a guy.

James:
Lucy Villaire, you don’t know the half of it.

April 12, 2:31 p.m.

James:
You sure spend a lot of time away from your cell phone. How can we continue to have meaningful conversations
when you don’t pick up? Call me back. I’ve fallen into the Jairo/Nan despair pit.

April 12, 3:08 p.m.

Lucy:
You need to climb out of the Jairo/Nan despair pit right away. Or, as Leslie liked to say in his small Welsh voice, straight away. You’ll be okay. You’re the one with the good heart and solid mind. I bet they burn through this relationship before June. If they don’t, I’ll eat my hat.

April 12, 4:49 p.m.

James:
Nobody says “I’ll eat my hat” except for my grandmother and characters in books. And why are you calling me up and talking about other guys? It’s poor form, Lucy. Especially now that we have an upcoming date.

April 12, 5:24 p.m.

Lucy:
I can’t believe you answered your phone.

James:
When I’m available, I always answer my phone.

Lucy:
So your grandmother is an expert fly-fisherwoman and she says, “I’ll eat my hat”?

James:
Yep.

Lucy:
She sounds interesting.

James:
My grandmother is a bold lady.

Lucy:
Bold?

James:
She doesn’t worry about what people think.

Lucy:
Tell me a story.

James:
All right, Lucy Villaire. I’ll tell you a story, but then I’ve got to go.

Lucy:
Where?

James:
My friend Bensen and I are going to raise a little hell.

Lucy:
I’ve never heard of Bensen, and you don’t strike me as a hell-raiser.

James:
I’ve been friends with Bensen since sixth grade. We both did a report on Peru. We made a topographical map together. Hey, are you yawning?

Lucy:
Let’s just get to your grandma story.

James:
Once upon a time, when my grandma was a teenager, she stole a car. Now, this wasn’t your average case of grand theft auto. She wanted to go somewhere. California. So at sixteen, she took my great-grandparents’ Chevy truck.

Lucy:
What year was this? America had Chevy trucks?

James:
It’s not polite to interrupt a story. The year was nineteen forty-something. Yes, America had Chevy trucks back then. So my grandma woke up one morning and realized that she’d never seen the ocean. So she stole the car and started driving west.

Lucy:
Why didn’t she head east? The Atlantic Ocean is much closer than the Pacific.

James:
Interrupt me again and I end the story.

Lucy:
Sorry.

James:
She drove and she drove. She picked up several hitchhikers. In retrospect, it’s remarkable that she wasn’t robbed, cut up into pieces, and left in a ditch somewhere. But she wasn’t. She drove all the way to Detroit. But when
she got there, something felt wrong. As she sped toward Chicago, she felt guiltier and guiltier. She never made it past Michigan. She turned around. She cried all the way home. The end.

Lucy:
Your story about your International Foods class was a lot more interesting. It had twists and stuff.

James:
Here’s the thing. My grandma fell in absolute love with Michigan. As soon as she turned eighteen, she moved there. She worked at a bakery and made pasties.

Lucy:
What’s a pastie?

James:
A pastry pie filled with meat. Anyway, she met my grandpa at the bakery.

Lucy:
And he liked her pasties?

James:
They fell in love and got married. They lived in Michigan and took up fly-fishing.

Lucy:
What did they do for jobs?

James:
They ran their own bakery.

Lucy:
Making pasties?

James:
Pasties are a big deal in Michigan. In the Upper Peninsula they even have roadside stands.

Lucy:
They serve them cold?

James:
No. They heat them at the roadside stands.

Lucy:
Like with propane stoves? That’s dangerous. A sleepy driver or a driver on a cell phone or a crappy driver could drift off the road and hit the pastie stand and blow it up.

James:
Are you being serious? How can I effectively tell my story if you’re going to jump in every three seconds with bizarre anxiety issues?

Lucy:
My anxiety issues aren’t bizarre.

James:
They are, Lucy. I was telling you a good story.

Lucy:
It was okay.

James:
It was about my family.

Lucy:
I know.

James:
It’s like you’re trying to miss with me. Like you want to have a fight.

Lucy:
That’s not true.

James:
Can’t we just have a normal conversation?

Lucy:
We are.

James:
Are you having your period?

Lucy:
You did not just ask me that!

James:
It’s fine if you are.

Lucy:
Only a jackass would say that to a girl.

James:
Calm down. I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean to make you mad.

Lucy:
Yeah, because there’s, like, thirty-two ways to take that question that aren’t offensive.

James:
I take it back.

Lucy:
If we were in kindergarten, I might accept that.