Second Helpings (26 page)

HHHH11-whoknowswhat P.M. I am enamored with my sweater. I cant stop stroking my arms, it feels so soft and warm and good. So good . I feel the music more than I hear it, each note singing and zinging through my body. My eyes feel fizzy like two flutes of champagne, yet colors are clearer and everything seems sharper, like the edges have been outlined in Magic Marker, then filled in with colored pencil. I look at Scotty and thank him for sharing this gift with me. He hugs me and his body is warm and so is mine and even his sweat smells clean, like nature and grass and fresh mud, and it mixes with my sweat and were now bonded on a molecular level and I think about how deep that is and hes telling me that he loves me, hes always loved me, and I place my hands on either side of his superhero jaw, then start stoking his sideburns and tell him I miss the friend he used to be to me and I say, Oh Scotty, even though no one calls him Scotty anymore, everyone calls him Scott because its more manly, but he says he likes hearing me say his name like that because its been such a long time since Ive said anything to him and I almost want to cry Im so happy to be there with him and I think about how the tears would mix with our sweat and how humans are 90 percent water and the earth is 90 percent water and how this may prove that God really does exist and

Midnightish. Lens face appears and Scotty fades away and Lens hand is on mine and I feel like Im immersed in a Jacuzzi all warm and bubbly and then were upstairs overlooking the crowd and even though I know its pure chaos, the party looks like a frame from a film, still and bright and overexposed, but then starting with Ten! the film moves in slow mo, then gets faster and faster and faster with each backward number, so when it reaches One! theres an explosion of sound and motion that climaxes with Len kissing me, and his lips hit every erogenous zone, even ones I never knew I had, like my left nostril, and I look at Len and I love him, I love, love, love him and I dont even think about Marcus or who hes kissing as the ball drops

HHHH ??? Len and I are in his car parked on a dark indigo road in the woods where I hear each leaf shimmy against the bark as clearly as I hear Lens breath and my own hums of pleasure coming up up up from deep inside me and my skin is searing and his mouth is wet and cold and everywhere and nowhere at once and it gives me chills its so good good good its all good and were together not quite here in the woods but somewhere else beyond Pineville beyond the globe even and its how I imagined it being like last year on the eve and I know its all connected last year this year its all connected not being with him last year was meant to be its all connected were all connected this is what the yoga book calls samadhi when you experience the entire universe as an interconnected whole and this is how its supposed to happen its my time to shed everything my clothes my inhibitions my regrets and just be with Len the way Im supposed to be the way this is supposed to happen samadhi samadhi samadhi and as Im thinking this in my head Len says something about how this is supposed to happen a question maybe waiting for an answer and I am euphoric because this is all the proof I need that Len and I really are connected we have shared a moment of cosmic telepathy and I think yes this is how its supposed to happen with Len yes Len and not with Marcus as I have deeply believed to be an inevitability every single day for 365 days half the time that Hope has been away and even though I didnt want to believe it even though I shredded all the pages that proved it I still believed in Marcus and me until now right now and as I finish that thought Im suddenly hurtling through the air crashing out of the sky smashing into stars as I tumble toward earth until the ground reaches up not in an embrace but to smack me hit me slap me for thinking all of this because when I finally recover from my fall I look up and see the sad sad sad expression on Lens face and I realize that Ive been saying all of this out loud and hes heard every word especially the ones I never wanted anyone else to hear.

the second

I am never doing drugs again.

Dont get me wrong. Im not about to start making public-service announcements against the evils of drugs. I think my troubles have more to do with being me than doing E. Heaths death certainly wasnt the only reason Id never experimented. Even before I knew he was using, I had a feeling that my body chemistry would not take well to any illicit substances. I mean, Im not a very good drunk, so why would I do any better at getting high.? I think some people are more successful experimenters than others. (Take Marcus, for example. He was able to kick all his habits no problem.)

I was never afraid of turning into a character from one of the hilarious videos that Brandi shows in HHS classyou know, the tweak freak who thinks she can fly and flings herself off the roof with wildly flapping wings, or the innocent girlfriend who goes from pothead to smackhead to crackhead in one long, druggy weekend with her bad-news boyfriend. No, my concerns were far less dramatic than that. I was worried that any drugs, any drug, would reveal things that Id rather keep undercover.

And I was right.

The by-product of unburdening myself of B.S. has been one huge, hemorrhoidal pain in the ass that started with Scotty and shows no signs of clearing itself up.

Proving that her Len loyalty only goes so far, my mom waltzed Scotty right up to my bedroom yesterday even when I told her I was too exhausted from bonding with my peers to socialize with anyone until I went back to school.

Look who it is, Jessie! Mom stood in back of him so he couldnt see her mimicking a bodybuilder and mouthing the words: HES STILL A CATCH .

Jess, weve gotta talk about what happened last night, he said when my mom shut the door behind him.

A lot had happened, yes. But nothing that could explain why Scotty was in my bedroom.

We were getting pretty close last night. You know, dancing and hugging and stuff.

Is this about Manda?

Sorta.

If my skull wasnt being held together with Scotch tape and a prayer, I wouldve laughed. Manda had some nerve to be jealous. What about the way she was shoving her hooters in Marcuss face ?

She of all people should never accuse anyone of flirting too much, I replied.

Scotty laughed. Oh, I dont give a fuck about what she thinks. I know Ive been pussywhipped, but not anymore.

I had no idea where he was going with this. So whats this all about, then?

He swooped down next to me on the bed. He smelled like Right Guard and the leather sleeves of his varsity jacket.

Im still into you.

Uh I picked up the shattered pieces of brain matter off the floor and put them back together again. What ?

Im as serious as a motherfucker, he said oh-so-poetically as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders. Scotty has muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. He has subcategories of muscles scientists and personal trainers havent classified yet.

Scott, I began.

Scotty, he said, stretching his meaty arms over his head so his T-shirt scooched up and revealed his happy trail and the bottom third of his six-pack. Call me Scotty like you did last night.

Uh, okay. Scotty . . .

He flashed what my mom would call a winning smile, but to me it was too rehearsed, too cheesya game-show-host grin. He put one bulky limb around me and I lost track of what I was going to say.

We connected last night, Jess. You felt it, too.

True, Scotty and I had a moment. It was the first time since sophomore year that I had been able to look at his face and see the old Scotty, the sincere, sweet stud-in-the-bud with a crustache, bedhead, and boogers in his nose. That gawky little boy was far more appealing than His Royal Guyness.

It was just some really potent stuff, I said while sliding out from under his weight. It wasnt me, it was E.

Ive done E a dozen times and it never made me feel like that.

I saw what was going on. His relationships have been so devoid of any substance that he was mistaking our drug-induced bonding as something more than it really was. It was kind of pathetic, actually.

This is what I was mulling over when he grabbed my face with his hammy hands and tried to kiss me. I leapt across the room like a character crafted by Industrial Light and Magic.

Scotty! What the hell?

Oh, thats right, he said dismissively. You dont want to cheat on Len.

To be honest, Len was the furthest thing from my mind. I was just reflexively repelled by the idea of re-creating the nasty kiss that sounded the death knell for our eleven-day eighth-grade relationship. But I used his excuse, as it was less likely to piss him off.

Right! I cant cheat on Len. My boyfriend .

Thats why Im here, he said, too busy watching himself flex his pecs in the mirror to look at me. Now that you know how I feel, you can do something about Len.

What do you mean do something about Len ?

Break up with that choad, he said.

Break up . All day I had been debating that very course of action, yet hearing it from Scotty made it sound like the least desirable thing on earth.

You think Im going to break up with him just because youve offered yourself to me?

Scottys look of self-admiration in the mirror didnt change.

King Scotty thought I would drop Len in half a heartbeat to go out with him. Christ, it really pisses me off that someone like Scotty feels so superior to someone like Len, and that his delusions of grandeur are perpetuated by all the morons at school. If only Haviland had published my Sycophants, Suck-Ups, and Scrubs editorial, maybe this wouldve never happened. But no, since all Pineville High has gotten down on their knees to pay homage (or hummage , as the case may be) to the Grand Poo-bah of the Upper Crust, he has no reason to believe that there are dissenters in the kingdom. When he walks down the hall, into the classroom, or onto the court, all eyes are on him, his own included. Scotty has a steroidal case of self-love, and God help me if I was going to pump him up even more.

Im not breaking up with Len, I replied, suddenly appreciating his awkwardness in the presence of such balls-out machismo. I hadnt talked to Len since he dropped me off at my house, and now it was the only thing I really wanted to do. I wanted to set things straight, but I had to get this meatballer out of my room first. I got up and opened the door to show Scotty out.

He chuckled as he got up from the bed. Okay, Jess, play hard to get, he said. But you cant deny what we have.

Oh, Christ. What we have is a jock jacked on his own delusions of grandeur, and a girl who has been a fool to take her lovely, sensitive boyfriend for granted. As I dialed Lens digits, I wanted to kick myself for not having tried to talk to him sooner. His mom answered.

Hi, Mrs. Levy, I said, trying my best to muster wholesome over-achieverness.

Oh, its you , she said dryly.

May I speak to Len please?

She smacked her lips together. Well, if it were up to me, Id say no, she said. But Len is an adult and can make his own decisions, so Ill let him decide whether or not he wants to talk to you. Heh-heh-heh.

Her laughter was cheerless and eerie. She must have been joking because I couldnt imagine any parent saying that to me and really meaning it. So I laughed weakly, too.

After about two minutes of waiting, Len finally got on the phone. I have never been so happy to hear his voice.

Len!

Jess, he replied, his voice as fixed and chilly as an uncracked tray of ice cubes.

Uh I

We need to talk about last night, he said without stammering.

Uh thats why I called

Lets meet at Helgas Diner at six.

Oh. Okay. I thought we could

Helgas at six, he said, cutting me off. See you.

I knew Len would arrive exactly on time, so I got there ten minutes early to compose myself. I had my excuse in my head: I didnt remember what I said. I remembered what I didwhat we did, or rather, what we almost didbut not what I said. A white lie, for the sake of saving the relationship, which I really wanted to save. Really. Len wasnt an asshole or a player. He was an honest, upright guy, which is hard to find at Pineville High, or anywhere for that matter. I was lucky enough to have him and I wanted to keep him. As for what I said about Marcus, I would explain how I didnt remember saying it, and that drugs are unpre-dictable and unreliable and have nothing to do with reality, which is why people take them, but I apologize for taking them, and he can rest easy knowing Ill never do it again, and what I said about Marcus was nothing, nothing at all

Little did I know that there would be a third party in this summit and that he would already be seated at a booth when I arrived.

What did you do last night? Marcus asked, genuinely baffled.

Oh, shit. I slumped into the banquette across the table from him. What did Len say?

Nothing. Hes really upset but wont say why. He just told me that we all had to be here. What happened?

Where to start? What to say?

I think hes mad because I did E last night, I said.

Marcuss eyes popped. That would do it. Len is so straight edge that he wont even take Tylenol when he has a headache.

Uh-huh. I know. I couldnt even look at him. I picked up the wrapper from Marcuss straw and folded it like an accordion.