The Secrets of Boys (5 page)

“I’m just bummed,” he said. “It’s my last night in town and my best friend—make that
former
best friend—

ditched me to go see that new horror movie.”

Cassidy wrinkled her nose. “That one about the crazy puppeteer?” Eric was dying to see it too.

“Puppets can be
really
scary,” Joe said, smiling for the first time. “I was always terrified of Miss Piggy. She had such a temper.”

Cassidy’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, interrupting her laughter. It was Eric, texting to see if she wanted to see the movie.

NOT REALLY
,
she texted back.

Her phone rang a moment later.

“Are you sure?” Eric asked. “I heard it’s up for Best Movie. At the MTV Movie Awards.”

“As prestigious as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.”

Cassidy laughed. “Actually, you should go. I just ran into Joe and he doesn’t want to see it either, so I can hang out with him.”

“Are you sure?” Eric’s voice was tinged with concern.

“I could skip the movie if you want to do something else instead.”

“That’s cool. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay …” Eric still seemed reluctant to get off the phone. “So what are you and Joe going to do, anyway?”

There was that strange suspiciousness again. Eric was being so inquisitive, and the tone in his voice was eerily overbearing. He never seemed to care this much what she was up to when she was hanging out with Larissa. It seemed like he had some problem with Joe, which was ridiculous. He was brother material, not stud material.

“Probably just chill at his place. I haven’t seen his mom in forever, and if I remember right, she makes amazing brownies.”

“Sounds cool,” Eric said, relaxing at the mention of parental involvement. “I’ll call you as soon as the movie’s out, okay?”

“Great.” Cassidy stayed on the line for a moment longer, half hoping for an accidental “love ya,” but Eric just hung up. She shrugged and shut her phone, giving Joe the thumbs-up. “Hope it’s okay that I invited myself over!”

“Hey, I’m glad,” said Joe. “What about Larissa?

Should we ask her to come along?”

Cassidy glanced over her shoulder and spied Larissa immersed in an outdated
InStyle
magazine, her mouth hanging open and her eyes fixated on the pages. Streams of paper were still pouring out of her locker.

“She’ll be here all night,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The tree house was just as Cassidy had remembered it.

She could still smell the pungent scent of the shellac Joe’s dad had used to seal the roof from rain, and the sample carpet squares from Home Depot they’d sat on to avoid getting splinters in their butts were still tacked to the floors. She remembered watching the shadows lengthen over his backyard as they made up “secrets”

about their teachers and giggled over a hidden stash of junk food. And now here they were again, sitting Indian style on a square of faded maroon carpet, drinking birch beer and gorging themselves on Cadbury Creme Eggs, Lays salt-and-vinegar potato chips, and a big roll of Pillsbury raw cookie dough—their version of the four food groups.

“Slow down,” Cassidy warned Joe as he shoved an entire chocolate egg into his mouth. “You’re going to asphyxiate yourself on old Easter candy. That’s an embarrassing way to die.”

“I can’t help it. This feels like my last meal,” Joe admitted. “I don’t think I’ll get to eat any of this stuff again for a long time.”

“Why?” Cassidy helped herself to a chip. “You said you were going away or something, right?”

“Yeah.” Joe sighed deeply and produced a crumpled brochure from his pocket. “Here.”

MCCAINE INSTITUTE FOR AT-RISK YOUTH—SUMMER

VENTURE
,
was printed the front. It had a picture of wholesome smiling kids doing trail work with snow-capped mountains in the background.

“You’re at risk?” Cassidy asked. “For what?”

“For turning into a big burnout like my brother, apparently,” Joe said. “You know that bag of weed he gave me to hand off to his friend? Well, I totally forgot about it and my mom found it in my pocket when she was doing laundry the other day. She and my dad flipped out. I guess they’re scared of producing another wayward kid like my brother, so they want to get me straightened out ASAP.”

“But you didn’t even smoke any of it,” she said. “Did you?”

“No,” Joe replied. “To tell the truth, I’ve never taken a hit in my life. I’m about as into the idea of turning into my brother as my parents are. Then again, he used to lie about it all the time, so I guess they have trust issues.”

“That sucks!” Cassidy couldn’t believe this. Joe’s summer was actually going to be even worse than hers.

At least her parents didn’t have her pegged as something she wasn’t.

“Justice is blind.” Joe shrugged.

“But that doesn’t mean your parents should be too,”

Cassidy argued. “Did you even get a chance to defend yourself?”

“Not really. As soon as they saw that bag, I knew I was done for. They’re shipping me out tomorrow.”

“And I thought
I
had it bad.” Cassidy said, launching into a description of the summer French course as Joe sat back against the wall of the tree house, munching a chunk of dough and nodding sympathetically.

“I guess neither of us is getting the summer we want,”

he said when she was through.

“I guess not.” Cassidy sighed. “But what can we do about it?”

“Nothing,” Joe agreed. “But I know what I want to do
now
.” He looked down at his lap and chuckled softly to himself. “You’ll think it’s really lame, though.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Joe scurried down the tree house ladder and returned a few moments later with a large box under his arm.

“Pictionary?” Cassidy shrieked, glancing at the box.

“You’re my hero!”

Joe smiled. “I remembered how much you loved this game when we were kids.”

Cassidy rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“Oh, I’m going to wipe the floor with you. Just you wait.”

“Feeling a little competitive, eh, Jones? That is unwise,” Joe said in the tone of voice that could only be heard in the overdubbing of kung fu movies.

“Fine, you go first,” she said. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Picasso.”

Joe plopped back down on the carpet and opened the game box. He got out a pad of paper and a pencil, picked up the card and read the clue, then turned over the miniature hourglass filled with sand. Joe scribbled frantically on the piece of paper. Cassidy thought he’d drawn stick people, but she wasn’t entirely sure. So she just began guessing.

“They’re bullfighters!”

“What? No way!” Joe replied.

Cassidy saw that time was ticking away and looked again at Joe’s sketch pad as he kept drawing. “Um …

oh! Wait, I got it. It’s a cockfight!”

Joe stared at her. “No one’s fighting, Cassidy. Jesus.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“Then you need glasses.”

Joe scribbled some more and Cassidy became more lost than ever. When the clock ran out, he tossed his pencil at her, but she ducked to get out of the way.

“Hey, that could have poked my eye out!”

“It’s not like it would matter. You can’t see anyway,”

he said, smirking.

“What were you drawing?”

Joe sighed in frustration. “It was a carnival.”

Cassidy looked at him blankly.

“See? There’s the Ferris wheel, and there’s the roller coaster,” he said while pointing to what looked like a bunch of wacky lines.

Just then they made direct eye contact and burst into hysterics. Cassidy clutched the part of her stomach that was starting to ache from sugar overload and laughter.

“Oh my God, I wonder what Eric would say if he knew I spent my evening playing Pictionary?”

“He’d probably be relieved,” Joe pointed out. “If I had a girlfriend and she was off with some other guy and it turned out they were just playing a board game, I’d be pretty happy about it.”

“Oh, I’m sure Eric trusts me,” Cassidy said. But she wasn’t as sure as she used to be. She thought about how Eric’s voice had sounded anxious when she told him she was going to hang out with Joe instead of joining him at the movies. It’s like he was jealous or something.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” Joe said. “I mean, you’re the kind of girl who could never tell a lie. And I don’t mean that in a George Washington kind of way or anything. Just that you’re, like, super-honest. But that doesn’t mean he’s not worried in some little part of his mind.

Guys are just like that.”

“Do you really think so?” Cassidy asked.

“Definitely.” Joe nodded.

“Is that one of those secret guy things I just don’t understand?”

“I guess.”

“Boys are such a mystery,” Cassidy mused. “Hey, Joe, now that I have you cornered, maybe you could explain all the secrets of boys to me before you go.”

“Only if you explain the secrets of girls to
me
,” Joe said. “Not that I’ll need much to seduce the female drug addicts.”

Cassidy swatted Joe on the arm playfully. “If you must know, I think girls just want to be told they’re loved.”

“Is that all?” Joe asked. “Yo, girls!” he shouted, leaning his head out the window of the tree house. “I love you!”

Cassidy laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Joe shrugged. He peeked out the window again. “Hey, what’s wrong? The girls should be flocking to me by now.”

“Maybe if you were their boyfriend and you told them you loved them and you meant it, they would,”

Cassidy said.

Joe looked at her quizzically. “Why? Eric doesn’t say he loves you?”

Cassidy realized she might have inadvertently taken the conversation to a place it shouldn’t have gone.

“I’m sorry,” Joe said quickly. “That’s a really personal question. You don’t have to answer it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said. This was something she never talked about with anyone, not even Larissa, but she suddenly felt like she had to get it off her chest.

“Actually, he doesn’t. And I wish he would. It would make a huge difference.”

They sat for a moment, listening to crickets chirp in the grass below. “You know,” Joe said quietly, “he’s probably just scared. That’s one secret boys don’t want to get out, but it’s true. Maybe he’s scared that if he acts that attached, he’ll be hurt when he loses you.”

“But he’s not going to lose me,” Cassidy protested.

“Then let him know that. Boys are more insecure than you think. I mean, you don’t have to get down on your knees and pledge eternal fidelity or anything, but there are subtle ways of letting him know you’re not going anywhere.”

“Like what?” Cassidy asked.

Cassidy couldn’t tell in the gathering warm Malibu twilight whether Joe was blushing or not.

“Well, see, that’s the hard part,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never personally had a really intense relationship, so maybe just like … I don’t know, tell him you think he’s hot or whatever. Anything, I guess, just as long as you mean it.”

Cassidy’s phone was buzzing in her pocket, and her head was buzzing too, thanks to one hell of a sugar-induced rush. “I hope that’s Eric. Then I can try your advice out on him.”

It was.

“Hey, sweetie!” His voice came bouncing through the earpiece, good-natured and exuberant. “Want to come join me for some after-movie ice cream? I’ve got a seat at Bella’s with your name on it.”

“Sure, hon,” she said. “Although I’ll have to skip the ice cream. I just ingested my yearly fat intake in one sitting.”

“With Joe?” Eric asked. “His mom made that many brownies?”

“No, actually—she wasn’t here,” Cassidy said. “It was just the two of us.” She felt a dull pain shoot through her shoulder and realized Joe had just punched her lightly. Suddenly she remembered what he’d said about Eric’s secret jealous streak. “But all we did was eat a ton of junk food and play Pictionary. And I really missed you—and I think you’re hot.”

“What?” Eric sounded confused but pleased.

“You heard me, hottie.” Cassidy laughed. “See you in twenty.”

“Did it work?” Joe asked eagerly.

“I have no idea,” Cassidy said, hitting the End button on her cell phone. “He probably thought I was high or something.”

“Well, you know, you
are
hanging out with a juvenile delinquent,” Joe reminded her. “Camp Crackhead, here I come!”

Cassidy wrapped her arms around Joe once again and gave him a friendly hug. She couldn’t help but think about how she was going to actually miss this skinny creature and his silly jokes, especially because the whole night had reminded her of how fun he was.

“Do me two favors this summer,” she said. “First, don’t get hooked on smack out there with all the junkies.”

“I’ll try not to,” Joe said. “Don’t … turn French or whatever. What’s the other favor?”

“Send me some letters?”

“Will you be able to read my handwriting?” Joe laughed.

Cassidy kicked him on the legs, but gently. “Promise me you’ll keep in touch, jerk, or else.”

Joe took her hand in his and kissed it sweetly. “I promise.”

Then Cassidy scampered down the ladder of the tree house and dashed off into the night in hopes that she’d enjoy her last few hours of summer freedom, even though she was worried that it wouldn’t get much better than this.

Monday, June 19

Cassidy darling,

Bonne chance on your first day of French class! We
are so proud of you for getting into this program, and
we know you’ll be a huge success.

Don’t forget to take good notes and block out two
hours of quiet study time each night to maximize your
productivity. Also, make sure there are whole grains in
your breakfast and plenty of protein in your lunch to
keep blood flowing to your brain all day long.

Here’s a little present to keep you organized!

Love,

Mom

There was a packet of highlighters with color-coordinated Post-it tabs next to the note on the table.

Cassidy left them where they were. She wasn’t even supposed to start class until the next day, but as usual, her mother was thinking way in advance.