Maine Squeeze (38 page)

Like I
would
.

“Thanks for taking time to listen to me today. If elected, I will … ban dating between seniors and juniors. Nobody will be allowed to break up with someone on the eve of the new school year. Labor Day will become the new Valentine's Day … a time to show your love instead of your really rotten and mean side.”

“Also, we need more vegetarian lunch choices.”

No. I'm going to push the school to be even better. “We need more vegan lunch choices.”

Grandma just called to see how I was doing. I thought she wanted to sympathize with me about the Dave situation. They met Dave; they know Dave; they love Dave. I hoped she wouldn't be rubbing it in, how perfect we seemed together.

Not to worry. I had just begun to tell her how much my life sucked when she launched into this long story about Grandpa and did I know how hard it was to live with a man for 50 years blah blah blah. Please don't go into details, I thought. Please don't tell me about the guy from the bingo palace you're dating now.

I rushed her off the phone but not before she got in the phrase “my needs are not being met.”

Like
mine
are?

Football game tonight. Could not have been weirder. Kept seeing all these people from last year's senior class, and they kept asking me how Dave was. I told them I couldn't talk because I had to get to my student council booth.

Mrs. Martinez, the faculty advisor, thought it would be good if the candidates mingled with the public, and what better time than during a football game when Bugling Elk is so busy losing by 50 points that everyone has lots of time to chat. Everyone still goes to the games, because it's fun anyway.

So me and three guys were hanging around this table over by the hot dog stand. Two of them were telling everyone that if they got elected they'd make sure Bugling Elk hires a better coach. The other guy told everyone he would disband the football team and put the money into chess club competitions.

Then there was me. Saying how the important thing about sports was to stay involved and participate, and not every team could win—even the Broncos had bad seasons sometimes, right?

“Courtney has a point.” The Tom strolled up and stood beside me. Then he kept telling everyone who stopped by that I'd do a good job.

The other candidates kept glaring at me.

“You're just supporting her because she's a girl,” they accused the Tom.

“She's not a girl,” the Tom said. “Not like
that
.”

“Hello! I'm right here, you don't have to talk about me in the third person. And what does that mean?” I asked, poking him in the chest.

“Nothing! It's just … you're different. Unique!” Tom said like he'd had a brainstorm.

In that I haven't made out with you yet—yes. “So are we done campaigning?” I asked. “Can I go?” Because I'd said “hi” so many times my face was getting a cramp.

The 3 guys looked at me and shrugged. The Tom shrugged.

“Okay then,
I'm
going,” I said. “And I'm still a girl.”

I rushed off looking for Jane and Beth. I didn't see Jane anywhere, but I spotted Beth in the smoking area, which has a new location this year: right next to one end zone of the football field. It can't be next to the school, so it's next to the sports area.
That
makes sense. Bring on the oxygen tanks. Anyway, I could see Beth over there visiting her old smoker friends. No doubt showing them those wallet-sized photos she has of blackened lungs.

Saw Grant pull up and park in disabled spot again. I was running over to tell him how wrong that was—didn't he know there were plenty of BEHS students and parents who needed those spots?

Then he helped this older lady out of the car. She had a cane and walked unevenly, like she'd broken her hip. Oops. Must be his grandmother. Instead of being a creep, he is the type of guy who drives his grandmother to football games and picks up her prescriptions. I completely misjudged him. Or rather I'm back to my original judgment.

“Courtney?” he said.

“Oh, um hi. I was just looking to see if Jane's here yet. Have you seen a white Acura?”

“Jane's in the bleachers. She's waving at you.” Grant pointed behind me.

“Oh. Okay. Well, bye!” I started to run off.

I was halfway up the bleachers when the Bulging Elk mascot grabbed me in a bear hug. (Idea: if I become VP, outlaw mascots.) He has these furry antlers, and they kept poking me in the eye.

“Get away from me!” I said.

He picked up his bullhorn and made this horrible bugling noise. I nearly lost my hearing. He bugled again, because our team was for once about to score. Then the crowd went wild, everyone was bugling and yelling and screaming so loudly that the quarterback couldn't get anyone on the team to hear him. They got a delay-of-game penalty and then there was an interception in the end zone and the other team ran it all the way back down the field and scored. Oops.

Ditched the mascot with bad timing and found Beth and Jane sitting on the top bleacher because it's the best place to scope the boys. Bryan was up there, too, with his sophomore friends. All really pimply and angry about not having driver's licenses or facial hair. No doubt they were up there because it must also be the best place to scope girls, like cheerleaders. Bryan's not really the cheerleader type. He's making it his life's mission to find someone as perfect as Beth.

When I got to the top bleacher, Beth and Bryan were laughing about something, completely violating the sophomores/seniors boundary line up there. I immediately sat in between them and then moved us over, away from Bryan. I'll never get elected if I let this sort of stuff happen.

Tonight was definitely not your normal football game. But on the plus side, I think I am finally getting over Dave. I didn't really miss him tonight. Not
much
.

Anyway, to celebrate, and also because I'm now writing on the inside back cover, I'm starting my new journal tomorrow. New journal, new life. Plus I can carry it around and look cool, plus it won't have anything about Dave in it. It's been over a month since we split. That's history now. He's history.

Still can't believe this! Not that this is a fresh cool sketchbook, but
THIS
, which was waiting for me in the mail drop when I got home from work.

Dear Courtney,

Hi! How are you? I know you're probably wondering why it took me so long to write. I've been thinking about you a lot. But it seemed like we needed some time apart. I hope you're not still mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It just seemed like the only thing to do at the time.

How is school going? How's Beth? How's Jane? I hope you guys are having fun.

School is okay. The classes are pretty intense, especially this Intro to Geology one. I thought I knew a lot about geology, but I'm really bad at memorizing stuff. My roommate, Chad, and I get along fine. He has a monster stereo, so we're always getting in trouble for playing it too loudly. He's really into rap, so I call him Puff Chaddy.

I should probably go now. I have class in twenty minutes and it's on the other side of campus. I'm so glad I got that new bike last spring. I use it every day. Thanks for helping me pick it out. When I ride, I think a lot about our trip to Taos and how much fun it was exploring the bike trails together (after we finally ditched my parents).

I hope you're doing well. I miss you.

Dave

I'm still in too much of a state of a shock to write. Plus this new journal is sort of intimidating. Too many wide-open spaces. Tomorrow.

I know I should be sleeping, but I have been up all night analyzing Dave's letter, like at a crime lab. Boyfriend Forensics. Or I guess it would be Ex-Boyfriend Forensics.

Several lines bear repeated reading. It seems to me there are 4 important items:

(1) Actually the first one is that he didn't mention any girls. Not a single one.

(2) “I've been thinking about you a lot” and “I think a lot about our trip to Taos.” Clearly having remorse. Obsessing. I am constantly on his mind.

(3) “It just seemed like the only thing to do at the time.” “At the time” implies there are other options now. Also implies he made a big mistake and realizes that now.

(4) “I miss you.”

I don't know how he could have made it any plainer.

There's only one thing to do. He
wants
me to do this.

Does car insurance cover natural disasters? And how much does that make the premium go up when you're 17 and it already takes all your allowance plus a part-time job to pay for?

And why do these things always have to happen to me? Why? Just when everything seemed so clear, so obvious … so easy.

I set out for Boulder to see Dave at about 3. Didn't want to look too eager, besides, had to be in school all day. But I figured if I got there on a Friday we could patch things up and then spend the weekend together. Beth tried to talk me out of it, but then I showed her The Letter. She gave me a coupon she won for a free Big Gulp and told me to hit the road. I brought all my favorite CDs and I was blasting them on the stereo as I cruised down the highway. Everything seemed perfect. My life felt like a movie for some reason.
Thelma and Louise
. Without Brad Pitt in the backseat. And not in a cool convertible.

When I started heading west on 36, the sky had a sort of black section, over the Flatirons. It wasn't that unusual, really—typical Colorado 3:00 thunderstorm. But this one was like … superthunder. Extra loud. All of a sudden I heard this big boom, and it shook the highway pavement, I swear. Then hail—giant ice balls—started thwacking against the windshield. I couldn't see anything! The hail was actually the size of golf balls. I felt like each one was going to smash the glass, and I kept cringing with each one, until my shoulders were even with my ears. I was so crouched over I could barely see over the steering wheel. I was driving like my grandmother.

I pulled over at the next exit and stopped at the first gas station I saw, my heart pounding in my throat. I ran into the Complete station. (Complete station. So badly named. So
completely
lacking.)

A whole bunch of Dave's friends were in there. Grant (still following me apparently), the Tom, Pete and Paul Desaulnier, Gary Matthews. What did they do, drive a minivan?

“Courtney?” The Tom was gazing out the window. “You're supposed to park
under
something.”

“Oh.” I'd kind of forgotten to save the car in my panic to save myself.

“Hello, Dent Clinic,” Paul joked. “Can we make an appointment for tomorrow? Yes, it's a maroon Ford Taurus with a bunch of vegetarian bumper stickers—”

“Save the Tofu? Is
that
what that says?” Pete laughed. “More like save the Taurus. For my
grand
parents.”

The thing about being identical twins is that you have identically bad jokes. And it's not a Taurus, it's the Bull.

“Where are you going?” Grant asked, having the decency to seem concerned.

“Um … shopping,” I said. “You?”

“We're going to see Dave.” Tom said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. He knew it bugged me, and he smiled when he said it. Do I
want
to be on student council with this jerk? Who's so devoted to Dave that he's basically a clone?

I'd rather be outside in the raging hailstorm. It would have been less painful.

“He planned this killer weekend for us, including a big party tonight at his dorm, meeting tons of college girls, then we're going to the CU football game tomorrow, and—” Blah blah blah. If he didn't kill me by going on, I was going to grab a plastic knife off the Snack Station and start stabbing myself.

All of a sudden Grant stepped in front of Tom holding a stack of napkins from the Snack Station. Then he reached up and put his hand in my hair. I felt this shivering sensation from him standing so close. It went all the way down my back, and it was cold. “What are you … doing?” I asked.

He pulled a couple of ice hunks out of my hair. “Your hair's kind of … full of ice,” he said.

I reached up and felt malted-milk-ball-size hail in my hair. It was melting hail sliding down the back of my coat that was making me shiver—not stupid Grant Superior and his CU-bound buddies.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, and I ran into the bathroom. The last thing I want is for them all to go to Boulder and tell Dave how horrible I looked. So I turned on the hand dryer and bent over, sticking my head underneath, until I smelled something burning. All the blood had rushed to my face, and now I had flyaway hair. Disaster two for the day.

When I came out, the guys were still there, but the hailstorm had ended, so I rushed past them, bought a fruit juice, and waved good-bye. No, really. See ya. It's been real.