Just Friends (18 page)

Mercifully, Simon could only be busier if he never slept. Besides school and all his extracurricular activities, he coaches an elementary school team and works part-time for his father’s landscaping firm. Jena usually sees him only on weekends. “Thank God we live in the twenty-first century,” says Jena. “At least we can pretty much be together even if we’re apart.” They spend hours together every night – he in his house and she in hers. You have to hope they have good cell-phone plans. “I mean, really, can you imagine if we didn’t have Instagram? I’d probably forget what he looks like!”

What a shame that would be.

Josh is philosophical about his own lack of opportunities to see Simon again. As far as Josh is concerned, meeting Simon is one of those things, like nearly drowning, that you only have to do once to know you don’t really want to do it again. But Fate, of course, has other ideas. Josh has done his best to forget what Simon looks like and almost succeeded when – like a gift from a bad fairy determined to ruin your holidays – he sees him again.

It’s only days before Christmas. Every weekend in December, Josh has been busking by the war memorial at the foot of town, where the buses to the mall stop. Ramona, working in the gallery, makes him eat his lunch in the office with her and brings him cups of herbal tea through the day so he doesn’t perish from the cold. Sometimes Sal, who has a seasonal job at the gourmet deli, joins them.

One Saturday Ramona turned up in a red cape with a silver ribbon wound through her hair and her violin under her arm. “People want to hear carols and ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’,” said Ramona. “Not ‘Columbus Stockade Blues’.” He made more money in an hour than he was making in a day, and the crowd that had gathered sang along to “O Holy Night”. “I figured if I didn’t help out you’d never get enough to buy all your presents,” said Ramona. Among other things, a necklace for his mother, a new scratch pad for Charley Patton, a cookbook for his uncles and a silver tree charm for Jena. He didn’t mention the charm. “You don’t think maybe you’re stereotyping?” asked Ramona. Because he was getting Charley a scratch pad? “No, dope. Because you’re getting your uncles a cookbook.” Josh pointed out that they like to cook.

On this Saturday, however, Josh is alone – and oddly missing Ramona. Ramona is not only fun to play with but attracts a crowd – possibly because she plays so well, or possibly because of the red cape, or possibly because, with him beside her, it looks as if she’s brought an elf with her for the occasion. He’s playing a spirited version of “Here Comes Santa Claus” when someone throws five dollars into his case. He looks over to see Jenevieve Capistrano smiling at him. Beside her is Simon Copeland; Simon Copeland isn’t smiling. When Josh finishes the song Jena claps so much that even people just passing by join in. Though not Simon, who stands straight and tight – as if he’s desperate to get to the bathroom.

“That was great,” says Jena. “You’re really good.” Which seems to come as a surprise. “I didn’t know you played stuff like that. I thought you only did old songs.”

“That is an old song. You missed ‘God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen’. That’s even older.”

She laughs. “You know what I mean. Folk music.”

“Blues mainly,” says Josh. “But I try not to be inflexible.”

She puts a hand on Simon’s arm. “You remember Simon.”

“How could I forget?”

“And I remember Josh,” says Simon. Making it clear why he remembers him – because he was dumpster diving and fell off a garbage can – without actually saying so. He nods at the open guitar case. “I’m surprised they let you busk down here. Isn’t there a town ordinance?” Making it clear that he thinks busking is one very small step away from begging and not necessarily in the right direction – but without actually saying that either.

“It’s Christmas,” says Josh. “Peace and goodwill to all men, right?” Though, on second thoughts, perhaps not every last man.

Simon smiles. “Right.”

“We’re on our way to the Moon and Sixpence,” says Jena. “Simon’s looking for something for his mom.”

Simon nods. “My mom loves Americana.”

“Well, that’s the place to go,” says Josh. “If Betsy Ross were alive she’d be selling her flags there.”

“Tilda’s having her party tonight,” offers Jena. “I figure I can get her a little something there, too. Maybe earrings.”

“Good idea,” says Josh. “I did notice she definitely has ears.”

He will probably never make Simon laugh.

They stand there smiling at each other for a few seconds, awkward as cats on stilts. Around them the town bustles – talk and laughter, traffic and hurrying feet – but they’ve become the Bermuda Triangle of Parsons Falls, still smiling but silent.

Simon adjusts his arm around Jena. “You play something, don’t you? I mean besides the guitar. What is it again?”

“The mandolin,” says Josh. “Mandolin and guitar. And a little harmonica.”

Simon’s smile does nothing to warm the afternoon. He shakes his head. “No, I meant, what game?”

“Chess.”

“Oh, right,” says Simon. And finally laughs. “I knew it couldn’t be basketball.”

Jena
and Simon aren’t the only ones with a festive gathering to go to tonight. Which is a good thing. If he had nothing particular to do, Josh would undoubtedly spend the night imagining Jena and Simon making out in some dim corner of the party. In its dark, airless and lonely room, Hope develops a bad cough. But, because Sal and Carver will be out of town until New Year’s, Sal has invited everyone around to his house for a pre-Christmas hang-out (the Pod Squad + two, as Josh thinks of them now that Ramona and Zara have become part of the group). “Pretzels shaped like Christmas trees and biscuits shaped like stars,” promised Sal. “Plus the black-and-white, uncolourized version of
It’s a Wonderful Life
.” Eat your heart out, Tilda Kopel.

By the time he gets home his mother has already gone out for the evening. Josh makes himself some supper, and he and Charley Patton share it while they listen to Bob Dylan’s Christmas album. When they’re done eating, Josh takes a shower and starts to get ready to go out himself.

Josh is drying his hair when the doorbell rings. Charley Patton sits up, eyes wide and ears pointing due north, in watch-cat mode. Carver said he’d walk over to Sal’s with him. Josh checks the time; Carver’s early. He must really like pretzels shaped like Christmas trees. The bell rings again. Urgently. “Hold on, I’m coming,” he calls, drops the towel and lopes to the door.

At first he thinks it must be raining because her face is so wet.

“Jena!” He peers behind her, but the night is cold and clear. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” He gives another peer into the night. “Where’s Simon?”

“Oh, Josh!” Sobbing, she flings herself into his arms. “I’m sorry. You’re probably busy, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Are you all right? What the hell happened?” Holding her, he moves backwards, pulling her into the house with him. It’s almost as if they’re dancing – something he’s tried to imagine, except, of course, that she’s never in tears. He steers her towards the sofa. “Come over here and sit down.”

Several worst-case scenarios gallop through his mind in the seconds between her throwing herself at him and him getting her into the living room – starting with a car crash and ending with date rape.

“I’m okay.” She drops onto the couch, wiping at the tears with the back of her hand, smudging a band of black across her eyes so that she looks like a raccoon. A very pretty raccoon wearing dangling earrings and a sparkly dress, but a raccoon nonetheless. “I just—” Fresh tears start to fall.

He hovers over her heaving shoulders. He doesn’t see any blood or bruises; her clothes aren’t torn. Those have to be good signs. “Tell me what happened. Is it Simon?” The thug. The malevolent creep. “What did he do? Are you sure you’re okay?” If Simon hurt her, Josh will have to get Ramona to beat him up.

“I-It-it was just so horri—” She chokes and snuffles and sobs. Most people look fairly grotesque when they weep uncontrollably, but not Jena. He has the urge to hug her, snot and all.

“Take it easy, Jen.” Josh perches on the arm of the sofa, uselessly patting her shoulder. “There’s no rush.” They have all night.

It doesn’t take quite that long, but it does take a while for her to calm down enough to force the terrible words out of her mouth.

“We-we had a fight. A-a-a really big fight.”

“A fight?” Chrissake, is that all? “A word fight, right? Nobody threw any punches?”

“Of course a word fight,” says Jena. “Simon would never hit me.”

Their first fight. Hope looks up, considering the possibility of finally getting off its sickbed.

But, technically, it wasn’t their first fight. The first fight – if you don’t count the stupid argument over abortion, which she doesn’t – was last week. They were going to the movies. Simon wanted to see an action movie, all special effects and graphic violence. Jena wanted to see a romantic comedy everybody was talking about. Everybody who wasn’t male. She thought it would be a nice date movie. But Simon wasn’t in the mood for a soppy chick flick; he’d be asleep before the opening credits were done. Jena gave in. Why argue over something even dumber than pro-choice? The important thing was to be together. So they went to Simon’s movie; she was bored and he fell asleep. The technical fight happened after he woke up, when Jena pointed out that since she was the one who stayed awake they should have gone to something she wanted to see. Simon said it wouldn’t kill her to be a little understanding; Jena said it wouldn’t kill him, either. They didn’t speak for ten minutes.

“But this was way different, Josh. This was super awful…” While she’s trying to control the sobs, he dashes into the bathroom and comes back with a box of tissues. “Guggleblug,” she mumbles, and blows her nose. When she’s more composed, she says, “I never knew what a jerk he can be.”

You should’ve asked me
.

“And so mean. You wouldn’t believe how mean he was. Really gross and mean.”

Prince Charming with fangs. Hope is feeling so much better it’s sitting up and managing a smile.

“I couldn’t believe it. He was really, really horrible,” she burbles. “It was like if you were sitting next to Charley Patton and he suddenly turned into a man-eating tiger. Think how you’d feel!”

If Charley turned into a man-eating tiger Josh wouldn’t feel anything for very long.

She smiles. Feebly.

“Why don’t I fix you a soothing tea? Help you relax.”

“I don’t want to relax. I’m too angry to relax.” As living proof of this statement, she stands up and starts to pace. “I’m never going to speak to that creep again.”

“You’re upset now. I’m sure—”

“So am I sure,” fumes Jena. “Just wait’ll you hear what he did.”

Josh moves to the sofa proper, more ears than a field of corn. He can hardly wait.

Simon came to pick her up for the party, but she wasn’t ready. “I know he’s very punctual and everything, but I mean, give me a break. It’s the first really special party I’ve been to since we came here. Much bigger than the one at Thanksgiving. I couldn’t just put on any old thing and brush my hair, could I?” Absolutely not. “I had a lot to do. I said that. Didn’t you hear me say that? That I needed time?” Josh thinks that time was definitely mentioned. “And it wasn’t my fault we were out all afternoon shopping. Si was the one who took hours picking a present for his mom. I got earrings for Tilda in like a minute and a half but he had to look at practically everything in the store. He’s super, super fussy. Just like the General.” Which would be another thing she hadn’t known about Simon. “So big deal he had to talk to my dad for a little while. It’s not like a new kind of torture. They like each other.” Josh doesn’t ask how little the while was. He knows what it’s like to wait for Jena. If you want her to go somewhere at six you tell her you have to leave at five. “So he was all normal and sweet until we got in the car and then he freaked out.”

The selfish swine.

“You should’ve heard him, Josh. How I ruined everything. How I’m so self-absorbed. How I never think about him. He said people have made dresses in less time than it takes me to put one on!”

What a moment to find something Simon Copeland said funny! Hope, already on its feet, gives Josh a hug.

“I know a relationship’s about give and take and compromise and all that stuff,” Jena steams on, in danger of wearing a path in the carpet, “but I really thought he was being ridiculous. I mean, really? Because I was a little late he acts like I destroyed the civilized world? Don’t you think he was being ridiculous? Tell me honestly. Don’t try to spare my feelings.”

“He sounds way over the top to me.” Totally ludicrous. He might as well have been dressed like a clown and shaking a tambourine.

“And then he got all snotty and said he’d been running around like crazy for weeks and had this insane practice yesterday and was totally exhausted and when he got home after we went shopping he had to help his dad replace some bulbs that burned out in their roof display and have supper and everything and he still managed to be on time so why couldn’t I?”

Josh’s expression is sympathetic – but inside he’s cheering, and Hope is cheering, too. The fatal flaw has finally appeared.

“And you know what else he said? He said I should try to empathize more with other people!” Her rage has finally stopped the tears, but her eyes still shine. “Me! I was the one who wasn’t being empathetic. How unfair is that?”

Now is probably not the moment to point out that when two people are having an argument they both think they’re right.

“Then we really hit the fan. I mean, like, seriously. It was super insane. I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at anyone like that before. And no one’s ever yelled at me like that, either. Not even the General, and yelling was part of his job.” She suddenly sits down again, leaning her head against him.

He puts a hand on her shoulder. “I bet Simon’s really sorry. He was tired. And Christmas is very stressful. I’m sure he knows he was wrong.”

“You bet he was wrong.” He’s never before heard her make a sound he associates with horses. “And if he’s not sorry now, he will be. Because we are through with a capital ‘T’.”