Misdirected (15 page)

 

 

Chapter 32

People Don
'
t Ask to Be Hated

T
he next morning Ed and I meet Em and Jamie at the pub for breakfast. At first I want to order a breakfast sandwich. Then I think about those stupid videos from last night. The idea of eating a pig right now makes me want to puke. Even though I'm drooling at the smell of bacon, I order a bagel with peanut butter.

It's Tuesday morning and the campus is already emptying out. Today is the last day of classes before everyone is off for the holiday.

Em and Jamie kiss good-bye and Ed gives me a fist bump. I've never actually met anyone before who gives fist bumps but it makes me feel momentarily cooler.

We head to Em's poetry class, her one and only class of the day. Each student reads his or her work out loud and then they all talk about it and give feedback. Some of them make no sense to me. Others make a lot of sense. One guy writes about his man parts. Seriously. A whole poem about what he's got and what he does with it. I didn't know you could write poems about that kind of stuff.

My sister tells the guy that he should use the clinical word for male genitalia instead of slang. That it would work better in the poem. He nods and writes it down.

My sister just told a guy what he should be calling his wang. I had to stop myself from laughing.

After class as we walk down to the other end of campus my sister asks, “So what did you think?”

“It was weird.”

“Why was it weird?”

“I just didn't know people wrote poems like that.”

“How many poems have you actually read?”

“Just a few I've read for school.”

“Well, pick up some Ginsberg or some Sharon Olds. You'll see that poems aren't just like the boring ones you read in school. They can be whatever you want. As long as the language is great the subject will be meaningful. Truth will be found.”

“Truth?”

“Poems are about emotional truth. At least to me. Getting to the substance and sharing your vision of the world.”

“I wanted to laugh at that guy's poem. He talked about his . . .”

“It made you uncomfortable.”

“People don't usually talk about that.”

“Great art is about saying the difficult thing. About not being afraid.”

We walk down to the art building so she can show me around the printmaking studio.

I keep thinking about truth. About thinking the difficult thing and saying it out loud. That takes guts. And a little bit of insanity. How many people actually tell the truth in their daily lives? Tess sure doesn't. Neither does James. I avoid the truth unless someone like Tess's dad or Mr. Thompson asks me directly. We don't lie, not exactly. We just steer clear of saying anything at all. Not even Emily tells the truth. She hasn't told our parents that she's gay.

We get to the studio and she leads me inside. Emily has been doing woodcuts and something called intaglio where you take a metal plate, mark it with acid, ink it up, and then run it under a press. The image you make with the acid shows up on the paper. It's pretty freaking awesome.

“I spend about twelve hours a week in here,” she says as she inks up one of her metal plates.

“That's a lot of time.”

“Yep. I love it. How is your magic coming along? You still practicing a lot?”

“I'm performing at a fundraiser in two and a half weeks actually.”

“That's great. Your first real performance.”

“Well, technically I was booted from the talent show. I'm trying to get back in. It might not even change anything. Everyone there hates me, including Tess.”

“I'm sure that's not true.”

“You know what I did.”

“You said a swear word. Big deal.”

“I didn't just curse. I told a bunch of people that everything they believed is stupid and wrong. How would you feel if someone yelled some homophobic slurs and threw the F word in there just to drive the point home?”

“I'd be mad.”

“That's what it's like for them. It's that bad.”

“So Tess is still not talking to you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“I've texted her, I've left notes in her locker, I've sent messages through James, and I've emailed her like three apologies. Nothing.”

“Man, she must really be mad.”

“Well, I'll be in public school starting January fifth, so she won't have to see me for much longer. She can go back to lying to her family so she doesn't rock the boat.”

“It can't be easy for her,” says Em as she places the plate onto the press and puts a piece of dampened paper over it. She cranks it through the press. “You said her brother is an atheist?”

“Yep, that's why she hasn't seen him in years. Her family disowned him. They don't want him to be a bad influence on the rest of the kids. We were planning on going to his wedding in a few weeks. Pete's going to be home then, and he said he'd take us.”

“Her parents aren't going?” asks Em. “To their own son's wedding?”

“They won't have anything to do with him.”

“It would be like Mom and Dad disowning me because I'm gay. Well, except I didn't choose to be gay.”

“I didn't choose to be an atheist. People don't usually choose to be the thing that's going to make their life harder.”

“Being gay isn't hard,” she says.

“Then why haven't you told Mom and Dad yet?”

She ignores the question and pulls the paper off the plate.

“Exactly,” I say. “In some ways it's harder, right? You have to deal with stupid people. Maybe not at Sarah Lawrence, but out in the world you will. You're terrified Mom and Dad are going to freak out.”

“Wouldn't you be?”

“Why don't you tell them this weekend?”

“We'll be at Aunt Lisa's house.”

“So?”

“So just because I'm willing to come out to my parents doesn't mean I'm ready to come out to the whole family.”

“When has anyone in our family ever said a mean thing about gay people?”

“They don't know any!”

“They're for gay marriage.”

“That doesn't mean they want their daughter to be gay.”

“You're not giving them enough credit.”

“Maybe, but it's my choice so drop it.”

She grabs the metal plate and washes off the leftover ink.

“Can I see what you made?” I ask.

She points to the table. “Over there.”

“What is this?”

“It's a map of Massachusetts according to me.”

The outline is of Massachusetts for sure. The inside has all sorts of different designs. Boston is a sort of crisscross pattern while right outside of Boston, where we lived, is less jagged looking. Softer. Each area feels different based on the etchings she did on the metal.

“It's really freaking cool,” I say. “Can I have this?”

“Yeah. There's a bit too much ink so I have to make another anyway.”

I stare at the paper, still a little wet in my hand. “Do you miss home?” I ask her.

“A lot.”

“Me too.”

“I've got to make a few more prints. After we'll get some food and head back to the dorm. Watch a movie or something, okay? It's just you and me tonight.”

“So we're meeting Mom and Dad tomorrow night?”

“Yep, at Aunt Lisa's.”

“Any chance we could go to Boston a bit early tomorrow?”

“Sure. You have big plans?”

“I just really need to see Seth and Margaret.”

 

 

Chapter 33

How to Tell an Old Friend that He
'
s Stupid

T
he next morning Em and I get up super early, get in the car, and head up past Boston to our hometown. As we get closer, I get more and more nervous and start to sweat. I want to see Margaret. I want her to show me what I'm doing wrong with the harder card moves. First, I need Seth to stop being a jealous jerk. Not to mention that I'd really like to have my friends back.

Just being in New England feels good. No Tess across the street ignoring me. No signs that say “Jesus Loves You” along the highway. I feel like I'm home. The trees are different here. The buildings are older. In Colorado it's like everything was built in the last fifty years. Boston has buildings that are old America. Churches actually look like churches. Not huge boxes that look like Walmart.

We drive through town and Emily drops me off in front of my old school. I would be here right now if we hadn't moved to Colorado.

It's nearly 11:30. Lunch is starting in a few minutes. I hope Margaret and Seth still eat lunch on the lower level behind the gym. I walk in and sit on the floor just around the corner so I'll be able to see them come in.

Ten minutes go by. I don't really want to go up to the cafeteria and do the whole catch up thing with everyone I used to know. What would I say?
I'm a total outcast at my new school. Thanks for asking.

I'm just about to head in when the door opens. Seth and Margaret are holding hands and laughing as they step inside and kiss each other.

They haven't seen me yet and I don't call out. All I can think of is how this is what Tess and I were never able to have. A normal relationship. Maybe it's good that we broke up. And here Seth and Margaret are, kissing and hanging out in public like it's the most normal thing in the world. They don't know how lucky they are. I really miss Tess.

Finally Seth notices me. His smile turns into a
what the hell are you doing here
face mixed with a
I know I'm a jerk for ignoring you but I won't admit it
face.

“You don't call? You don't text?” I ask with a pissed-off smirk.

He just stares at me.

“Hey, Margaret,” I say more calmly.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Do you mind giving us a few minutes?”

“No problem.”

She kisses Seth on the cheek, whispers something in his ear, and heads inside.

We stand there for a few seconds silently. I have no idea what to do. You can't just say,
Don't be jealous of my sexy self. I'm sure your girlfriend isn't hot for me anymore
. But you can't ignore it either.

So I say an equally unlikely thing.

“My girlfriend dumped me a few weeks ago.”

He looks at me for a second, like he's deciding whether or not to play along.

“What desperate girl would go out with you?”

“A cute, nice, smart girl. Now, nobody.”

“That sucks.”

“I'm hungry. My sister and I just drove up from New York. Any chance you'd split your sandwich?”

He sits down in our old spot and hands me half of his food.

“Your mom and my dad love the pb and j.”

“It's the lazy parent's lunch,” he says.

“Ha. Yeah.”

We both take a bite and sit silently while we eat.

“So, anything new here?” I ask.

He takes another bite of his sandwich and chews slowly before answering.

“Margaret and I are dating.”

“I sorta got that from the kissing. I always thought you two would be good together. Is she making you do your homework?”

“Yes! She comes over with her backpack and makes sure we're both done with our homework before she'll even kiss me.”

“That's a good motivator.”

“I've never gotten my homework done so fast in my life.”

We both eat silently for a minute.

“How's your new school?” Seth asks carefully.

“Everyone there hates me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't believe in god. And because I yelled some pretty awful stuff in front of a bunch of people that was totally offensive.”

“Why'd you do that?”

“A lot of reasons. My science teacher failed me for not writing that dinosaurs and humans lived on earth at the same time, and this ass at school tripped me with his bag so I fell on my face.”

“Damn. Do you have any friends?”

Seth looks a little guilty as he asks. Like he's now realizing what a tool he's been for ignoring me these last few months.

“One. He's awesome.”

“One isn't bad.”

I tell him about James and about Tess and what happened. About how I'll be starting public school in January. After a few minutes, it's like I never left. Like he never ignored me. A part of me wants to punch him in the face for cutting me out of his life the way he did. Another part of me is just happy to have my friend back.

“So before I leave for public school I'm doing a magic show in my school's talent show. At least, I'm trying to figure out a way for them to let me back in so I can perform in it.”

“Why don't you bail? I mean, if none of them want you there.”

“It's not fair for them to kick me out. I‘ve been punished already and I worked my butt off for that magic show.”

“It will be your first real show.”

“I know and I've been practicing a lot. I just need help on one part.”

“Yeah?”

“From the best magician we know. ”

“Oh.”

“I was hoping I could tag along with you guys tonight and Margaret could show me what I'm doing wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess. We were just going to hang out in my basement tonight and watch a movie.”

“So it's cool?”

“Yeah. It's cool.”

“Great.”

“I should get to class.”

“I'll see you tonight then. Seven?”

“Sounds good.”

 

 

Chapter 34

Like It Was Before. Sort of.

That night Margaret, Seth, and I hang out for hours. We watch some slasher movie and then end up talking the way we did before I moved. Before everything changed. I'm feeling so nostalgic for my life before I moved, but then during the movie Margaret leans on Seth's shoulder, and he puts his arm around her.

All I can think about is Tess. We've never watched a movie together, and now we probably never will. I thought being on the other side of the country would make things easier. Instead I just miss her more.

I reach inside my bag and hold the letter she wrote me. It's still sealed. I haven't had the guts to open it.

I know she broke up with me, but the idea of reading how badly I hurt her is just too much to handle. So I've been keeping it in the side pocket of my bag along with my magic stuff. All the things that are important to me.

After the movie, Seth goes upstairs to grab us some snacks. Margaret and I start on the trick that I need to master if I'm not going to make a total fool of myself during the show. She does it perfectly and makes it look really easy. I botch it like thirty times in a row before it finally starts coming together.

“It took me a lot of practice before I got good at this one,” says Margaret, probably to make me feel better.

Seth brings down some chicken fingers. They smell really good. I'm hungry and kind of drooling in my mouth from the smell. I think I liked life better before I saw those videos. I mean, once you know something you can't unknow it. What kind of a person finds out about something terrible and then does the terrible thing anyway?

“Not hungry?” asks Seth.

“Got anything else?” I ask.

“Maybe. Go upstairs and look.”

Ugh. Emily is going to love this in her annoying
I was right, you were wrong
kind of way.

I head up to the kitchen and raid the pantry like I used to do three times a week back when I lived here and grab some chips. Salty. Fatty. And they will make me stop drooling for chicken.

By about midnight I'm halfway through the bag of chips and my moves are finally passable. They're not perfect, but with Margaret's help placing my fingers and angling my hands toward my audience of one, for the first time I feel like I'm not going to make a fool out of myself. It's been so long that Seth and Margaret just start clapping. Mostly because Margaret needs to get home and Seth wants to go to sleep. I'm wired and feel so excited that I finally have a handle on what could be my finale for the show so I just keep practicing until my fingers are tired.

Margaret heads home and Seth goes up to sleep. I stay down in the basement practicing the whole routine for another hour and then crash on the couch.

That's the best part of old friends. You can sleep at their house without even really asking. Even when fourteen hours earlier you weren't talking to them. Or rather, they weren't talking to you.

As good as it feels to be here, I wonder how James is doing.

I look at my watch. 1:30 a.m. It's earlier in Colorado so I give him a call.

“Hello?” says a very sleepy voice.

“Hey, man. It's me. Sorry I woke you up.”

“It's okay. Is something wrong?”

“No. I'm at Seth's and just wanted to see how you're doing.”

“Okay so far. I'm trying to keep her busy. I took her to church today. Which sucks for me but is good for her.”

“Good. I'm glad,” I say. “How is Holly doing?”

“Your mom dropped her off earlier tonight. She keeps looking out the window for you guys. I think she's starting to relax. How is it going with Seth and Margaret? Good I guess if he's letting you sleep over.”

“Yeah. And Margaret helped me with that trick so I won't look stupid in front of the whole school.”

“Now you're worried about looking stupid in front of the whole school? Where was that thought a few weeks ago?”

“See, I called you up to be all nice and you say a thing like that.”

“It's true!”

“So true it kills me.”

“And what makes you think anyone is going to let you onstage?”

“I'm still working on that part.”

“Work faster.”

“I'm the master of the last-minute plan. At least I hope I am. Right now, I've got nothing.”

“Have you opened the letter yet?”

“No.”

“Grow a pair and get it done. Rip the Band-Aid off fast.”

“Is Tess still going to her brother's wedding?”

“I don't know.”

“She should.”

“She was counting on you.”

“Trust me. I know it. Anyway, I just called to make sure things were cool at your house.”

“Thanks, man.”

I hang up and take Tess's letter out of my bag. I come
this close
to opening it. Then I change my mind. It's time to get some sleep. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.