Second Helpings (40 page)

Thank God.

I just want you to know that Len and I are in love.

Quintuple ack.

Manda, I understand that you want to apologize so you can go off to college with a clear conscience, but quite frankly, I dont really care about you and Len anymore.

Then if you dont care, you can hear me out.

It was clear that she was hell-bent on unburdening her soul, so I gave her the go-ahead.

Girls with low self-esteem have sex sooner, and more often, than girls with high self-esteem, she said.

Oh, which must make me the queen of self-esteem. I snorted.

Well, yes, actually

Oh, Christ, Manda, I am not in the mood for any of your feminist bullshit.

No, listen, she said. But guys with low self-esteem postpone sex and have less of it than guys with high self-esteem.

I thought about this for a second. Chicken or the egg.

What?

Maybe the reason they have low self-esteem is because theyre not getting laid. Its a chicken or the egg situation.

Puh-leeze, she said, though I could tell I had stumped her. Thats not the point. The point is, I realized that Len and I were both suffering from low self-esteem, which seems to stem from our sexual histories.

Or lack thereof.

Right.

Okay. Thats fantastic. So are we done now? I said, looking around for Pepe.

No. Listen, she said, grabbing my arm. I realized we could help each other. And we have. I know you think that hes just another guy, but Len is the first one Ive truly cared about.

I didnt say anything.

Im just sorry that it went down the way it did, and I want to thank you for being as cool as youve been about it.

This was as close to humane as Manda could ever get.

Friends? she asked as she extended her hand.

I know I was supposed to bypass her hand, bow down, and kiss her pedicured toes for her compassionate apology. Like hell I would.

Did 1 not make it to the prom because 1 bitch-slapped her across the face, thus starting the best chick-on-chick brawl since the infamous Bridget/Manda/ Sara cheerleader cafeteria catfight of 00?

Scenario #2: Jock Shock

So youd go to the prom with the Black Elvis, but you wont go with me.

Scottty was well on his way to a DUI.

Yeah, I said.

You look hot, he said, looking down the front of my dress. You should dress like that more.

I must admit, I filled out the dress just fine, thank you very much. But it made me uncomfortable to know that Scotty had noticed too.

That wouldnt be very practical, I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

I mean, more like a girl. You wear jeans too much. You should show off your legs more often.

Well, if youre done criticizing my appearance, I think Ill find my date.

No, he said. Wait. I didnt mean it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I always say the most stupid fucking things in front of you.

Yes, you do.

I cant stop thinking about what you said to me when I asked you to the prom.

What? Whatever I had said had slipped my mind.

You asked what happened to me.

Oh, right.

I know Ive changed, he said. And I know why.

Okay. Why?

I was a pussy.

Oh, Christ. My eyes rolled around like triple cherries on a slot machine.

No, seriously. Guys only care about two thingsgetting laid and getting respect from other guys. You only need to get one to get the other. Get laid, get respect. And being a pussy was not getting me laid.

Heres a novel idea, I said. How about getting respect from girls?

Again, my retort had stumped its target.

I liked the old you, the guy you call a pussy, but who I thought was a nice guy. I even respected that guy. Thats where you lost out. You were dead wrong about nice guys not getting laid, because I just might have slept with that pussy, and I will never, ever in a bizillion years sleep with you.

Did I not make it to the prom because Scotty spent the rest of the night trying to reclaim his former pussiness in an attempt to get into my fancy prom panties?

Scenario #3: Lies Surprise

Chaos Called Creation hit the stage at seven P.M. for a mini farewell concert. With Len off to Cornell in the fall, theyve decided they just cant go on without him. I really wasnt all that eager to watch Len and Marcus revel in groupie glory for one last time. I told Pepe that we should get going, since the prom was about to start and was about a twenty-minute drive from Saras house.

Everyone arrives fashionably late, he said with a curious edge to his voice. Whats the point in going there if everyone is here?

It started to become clear why he wanted me to stay when Marcus stepped up to the microphone. He had shaved off the rooster tufts, and the resulting buzz cut somehow made him seem more vulnerable and childlike. Or maybe it was the absence of his trademark smirk, which had been replaced with a beatific smile I had never seen before.

Our first and last song for the evening is our only ballad, he said. And its the only song Ill ever sing. So I hope youre listening.

He looked straight at me, then stripped off the button-down he was wearing, under which, he was wearing a passion-red T-shirt that said: YOU. YES. YOU. Then he strummed the guitar and began singing his song for me. Yes. Me.

Crocodile Lies

I confess, yes, our Fall was all my fault

If you kissed my eyes, your lips would taste salt

But you think my regret is a lie, and the tears I cry

Are the crocodile kind.

The sweat on your upper lip starts to boil

White hot with ange, still convinced I'm your foil

You keep fighting me, though my eyes are free

From crocodile lies.

You, yes, you, linger inside my heart

The same you who stopped us before we could start

I didnt want to leave, but you began to believe

Your own crocodile lies.

The only person stopping you is yourself,

You wont accept that I want no one else,

So until you do, Ill let someone else have you

Every day, I live the lie

But not the crocodile kind.

How do you react to something like that? How? How do you react when you find out the exact opposite of what youve been telling yourself is true? Lets get more specific: How do I react when I find out that Marcus still wants me after all? Or maybe he doesnt and this is just another move in the Game? How do I react when I have no clue if Marcus is for real?

Dazed, I drifted in his direction.

I wanted you to be happy, he said.

Happy, I said.

If you wouldnt be with me, I thought that you should be with the one guy I thought deserved you, my best friend, he said.

Friend, I said.

So thats why I had to help him out, and tell him the perfect presents to buy you and stuff, he said.

Help, I said.

Your unhappiness with him just proved that you and I should be together, he said.

Together.

But I was just as scared to be with you as you are to be with me.

Scared, I thought, but couldnt bring myself to say out loud.

So what do you think? he asked.

As if that was an easy question to answer. So I responded with an inquiry of my own.

Why now? I asked. Why tell me all this now?

Because of Hope, he said.

Marcus went on to tell me that Hope had called him not too long after our last long phone conversation about all the reasons why Marcus was messing up my life. She called him to tell him that she knew he couldnt have stopped her brothers death, and she was tired of hearing my psycho excuses for why I wouldnt let Marcus back into my life. She called him to tell him what I was too afraid to say out loud: that he was right, I was pushing him away because I was petrified of what would happen if he got too close. Hope called him to step in where she knew I wouldnt. The two of themMarcus and Hopegot Pepe and Bridget involved in this prom scheme, too. But it was Hopes doing, mostly.

Thats precisely why she is my best friend, and always will be no matter how much distance separates us.

I didnt realize that I had been standing there mute for a minute until he said, Are you quiet because youre surprised or because youre repulsed?

Neither, I replied. Im quiet because weve done enough talking.

Did I not make it to the prom because I took his face in my hands and pressed my mouth to his, long and full and wet, right in front of the entire prom-going senior class? Did I not make it to the prom because we quickly hopped into the Caddie, never lettinggo of each others hands, and drove back to his house? Did 1 not make it to the prom because we were all alone and unchaperoned because his parents were visiting his brother in Maine? Did I not make it to the prom because we, without speaking, and barely breathing, slowly and nervously and tenderly undressed each other, and even more slowly and nervously and tenderly made love in his bed, on black-and-white-striped sheets that smelled like smoky cedar trees, exactly like I had imagined all this time ?

For the record, I was not under emotional duress.

While you know I cant write in detail about these thingsyou know, sex thingsespecially when its about me, I do feel that after all this obsessive talk about dying a virgin and everyone else in the world doing it but me, and wanting to wait for the perfect time and the perfect place and, most important, the perfect person , I should at least say this to put your mind at ease:

It was well worth the wait.

Holy shit, was it worth it.

Right before I was about to fade into slumber, my eyes popped open. I suddenly remembered that I needed to ask him a question.

Marcus?

Yes?

Whats your middle name?

Armstrong. Marcus Armstrong Flutie. Like Neil, the astronaut? I asked. No, he replied. Like Louie, the jazz singer?

No, he replied. Then like who?

Like me.

Thank you, I said, before drifting off into a long, uninterrupted, dreamless sleep.

the tenth

Is there anything more priceless than a yearbook picture of the Class Couple who are no longer a Class Couple? I nearly split my spleen when I saw that picture of Scotty and Manda making gooey eyes at each other. That alone was worth the seventy-five dollars.

But then there was the shock of seeing Sara in her Best Buddies and Class Motormouth photos, taken when she was still summertime skinny. Her weight gain was so gradual that it was impossible to pinpoint the day she was officially chunky again. It would have made an awesome subject for a time-laspse photography film: Size 2 to 14 in 180 School Days .

Of course, the most excruciating photos were of Len and me, captured before there even was a Len and me. It was weird to see us in our Most Likely to Succeed and Class Brainiac pictures, the two of us not knowing what would happen between us this year. When the picture was taken, we werent comfortable enough around each other to touch. In both pictures were smiling and everything, feigning camaraderie, but keeping a safe distance. Its sort of how we act around each other now, as exes.

QUIZ!!! MATCH THE YEARBOOK QUOTE TO THE PERSON!!!

QUOTE

PERSON

1. "We've been through some tough times, sweetie. But I'm so psyched that we've put our differences aside. Who knew we'd both end up with rock stars???!!! Let's hang out this summer!!!"

A. Bridget

2. "I always knew there was something going on with the 'Brainiac' and 'Krispy'!!! But Manda says that Len says that he's cool, so I guess he's cool with me, too!!! Always remember me, your homeroom buddy!!! Let's hang out this summer!!!"

B. Len

3. "You are the smartest person I know. Congratulations on Columbia. I know you will succeed in whatever it is that you do. I hope one day we can be friends again."

C. Manda

4. "I'm so happy that you and I got closer this year. I know things weren't easy for you after Hope left, but I hope (ha ha) I helped make things better for you. I know you definitely did for me."

D. Pepe

5. "What am I going to do without you next year, my pale-faced friend? Mon dieu! You're the only person who speaks the language."

E. Sara

6. "I hope I someday earn back your respect. And not just because I want to do you."

F. Scotty

Answer: Do I even have to spell it out for you?

Of course, looking at excruciating photos is only half the fun of yearbook-getting.

If theres anything I learned on prom night, its that we seniors are compelled to kiss each others asses before we graduate. Everyones trying to mend fences and end feuds and basically get in everyone elses good graces, as if two weeks of nicey-niceties can erase nearly four years dick-headedness. Ever notice how people wait until theyre not going to see you anymore to say something nice to you? Nowhere is this more apparent than in how these people are signing my yearbook.