To meet You Again (7 page)

               
I took in a deep breath and turned to face him,

               
“Hey, Don, what’s up?”

               
“Didn’t you see when you passed by?” he asked excitedly.

               
“Huh?” I acted confused.
“Oh, why?
What happened?”

               
“Melissa and I got back together! It worked!” he cheered.

               
“Oh, that’s great,” I kept on nodding. “Congratulations.”

               
“Thanks,” he smiled and then petted my head, “but I couldn’t have done it
without you. You’re the best.” He hugged me, and I wish I had a knife so I
could stab him in the heart.

               
“Oh, it was no problem,” I was nodding again. I swallowed. Then I nodded some
more, unsure what to say.

               
“What’s that?” Don asked, pointing to the Tupperware in my hands.

               
“Oh, this?”
I held it up. I decided to act like it was
nothing. “It’s nothing… It’s…” I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to
paint a
more noble
image of myself than I deserved. “I
made these for you… to give to Melissa. I thought it would help with... I mean…
What girl doesn’t like sensitive guy who bakes and… yeah.”

               
“You really are the greatest,” Don hugged me again. “Can I try one?”

               
Something about that question set me off.
“Of course.
They were made for you after all,” I rolled my eyes and shoved the Tupperware
of cookies into his chest.

               
“You okay, Ruby?” he asked. “Did I do something?”

               
“No,” I lied. “I’m just feeling really sick…” I decided to do one last thing to
spite him. “I think all this serenading has strained my throat. I don’t think
I’ll be good for the fair tomorrow.”

               
His eyes widened, “What?
Ruby, no.
We can’t find
someone so last minute.”

               
“You’re going to have to try,” I coughed exaggeratedly. “I really don’t think I
could make it.”

               
“What if we don’t find a singer in time?” he panicked. “And what about the
money you were supposed to earn.”

               
“I don’t know, Don,” I was visibly irritated. “Maybe you could use my pay as
prize money for people who can the sing the songs for you. Make a contest or
game show out of it or something. I don’t know. You’re smart. You’ll find
something.” Without waiting for his response, I walked away.

               
As I stormed off in the direction of the
girls
bathroom, I almost bumped into Angelo, the last person I wanted to see.

               
“Hey, Ruby, where you off to in such a hurry?” he asked.

               
“Oh,” I was losing it. “You want me to just stand here while you gloat, huh? Is
that how this friendship works?
How about I save you the
saliva.
You were right. Don is a jerk. He got back together with Melissa
because I didn’t try hard enough.
And yeah.
I got
hurt! So congratulations! You were right.
Again!”
I
started to try and walk around him when he mirrored my movements, and put his
hands on my arms to steady me,

               
“Whoa, Ruby, calm down.
What happened?”

               
I jerked my way backwards so he would get his hands off me. “Did you not hear
what I just said? Don and Melissa got back together.”

               
“Oh, man,” he put a hand on his nape, “I’m sorry.”

               
“No you’re not,” I accused. “You knew this was going to happen.”

               
“Okay,” he took a step back. “If you want me to be honest, I’m not really
sorry. I did warn you.”

               
“I know you did,” I crossed my arms and looked down.
Uh
oh.Waterworks
time.
“I just… I feel so embarrassed.
I mean, we pretended to be together… And then I stayed up last night baking
cookies and I messed up the entire kitchen and-”

               
“Whoa,” Angelo was surprised. “You baked? Wow… You must… really like this guy.”

               
“I did,” I frowned. “But you were right. What was the point of all the waiting?
It was pathetic.”

               
“No, no,” he put an arm around me and walked with me down the hall. “You are
just really passionate and… like that guy from ‘500 Days of
Summer
’.
You know, assigning cosmic significance to events or something like that.”

               
“Which is stupid,” I added.

               
“No, it’s not,” he looked at me. “It’s refreshing. Sometimes it’s nice to
believe in something. If it makes you feel good, then it’s all good.”

               
I sniffed, “Thanks, Angelo. You always know what to say.”

               
“Yeah, I do,” he joked, and I pushed him away. Then it occurred to me,

               
“Um, Angelo, I kind of did something to try and spite Don which directly
affects you.”

               
“What?” he asked.

               
“I lied and told him I was sick and that you guys had to find a new singer.”

               
Angelo paused he looked down and held out a finger, like he was signalling me
to wait for something. “While under normal circumstances I would’ve have
applauded the gesture,” he began, “at this moment in time I just have to say…”
He took in a deep breath. “Why, Ruby? Why?”

**    
*     *     *

It was the day of the fair – Hearts Day.

               
The school had set it up in the giant football field. All the booths and some
rides. Everything was a predictably sickening combination of whites, reds and
pinks. Although, from where I was sitting – all the way up on the highest row
of the bleachers – I spotted some gold’s and silvers. If it had been any other
Valentine’s Day, I might have appreciated the attempt to break out from the
norm.
Might have.
But today I just shrugged.

               
You were required to attend, so I came and had my wrist stamped so I could say
I was there. But I had no interest in participating. I surely had nothing to
celebrate about.

               
After all, when it came to tracing Melissa and Don’s course at the fair, I
suddenly had the vision of an eagle. He got her a rose and a card. Then they
shared some cotton candy. Pink, of course. Then they went on the Ferris wheel
together… twice. And then he won her a stuffed bear by playing some sort of
booth game.

               
Melissa and Don just looked so happy… and I absolutely hated it.

               
Why couldn’t I be that happy?

               
“Hey.”

               
I jumped and then turned to my right. It was Angelo, offering me some blue
cotton candy. Bless his heart. I smiled and took a piece. I put it in my mouth
and closed my eyes as it disintegrated on my tongue, lightly coating it in
sugary goodness.

               
“You know you shouldn’t be watching them like this,” Angelo said as he took a
seat in front of me. “You’re just punishing yourself.”

               
“Don’t you think people who do foolish things should be punished for their
foolishness?” I asked.

               
“No,” he shook his head. “I think the humiliation of doing the foolish thing is
punishment enough.”

               
I laughed.
“Exactly.
And the humiliation comes from
within. Therefore…” I held out a hand, pointing out where Don and Melissa were
standing.

               
“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” Angelo turned to face me.

               
“No,” I shook my head.

               
He stood up, “C’mon, Ruby, you have to plant your feet back on the ground some
time. Let’s go have some fun! That’s the whole point of this thing, isn’t it?”

               
“I thought we agreed that this whole thing was stupid,” I crossed my arms.

               
“Then let’s be stupid today,” Angelo shrugged. “Look, I’m going back down there
with or without you. So if you want to stay up here and wallow, fine by me. But
I am excellent at darts.”

               
“Do you want to be my Valentine, Angelo?” I accused.

               
“Not in so few words,” he climbed up the bleachers so he would be standing
beside me. “But sure. Why
not
?Every
year we call it two friends celebrating ‘Anti-Valentines’. Why don’t we just
call it what it really is?”

               
“And what is that?” I asked.

               
“Two friends preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s on
Valentine’s,” he shrugged.

               
“So that’s what you meant by ‘not in so few words’, huh?” I dramatically looked
up to ‘think’. “Mr. de
Laurentiis
, you make a very
convincing argument.” I stood up and held out my elbow, “Yes, I will be your
Valentine.”

               
“Friend who mutually-”

               
“Yeah, yeah,” I cut him off, “save it for law school, Valentine. Now prove to
me that chivalry isn’t dead.”

              
“You got it,” he linked his arm in mine and for the first few steps we tried to
exaggeratedly skip down the bleachers. Once we realized it was both impractical
and dangerous, we unlinked ourselves and stepped down normally.

               
Angelo first bought me an origami rose – bless his heart for remembering my
conscientiousness towards the environment. Then we ate hotdogs on sticks,
cotton candy (blue), lots and lots of chocolate pops, and a variety of
different things.
And soda.
I had lots of that.
And then chocolate milk.
Boy, did they have a lot of
chocolate. You’d think that after that incident with the kitchen and
myself
and the floor and the dog being covered in chocolate
and that resulting into horrible things after would make me sick of it. You’d
think I’d be a diabetic.
But no.
I loved chocolate,
and I was blessed with an immune system like the Great Wall of China.
An unbeatable, unbreakable wall.
And, today, I pushed that
wall to its limits, and I came out a survivor…

               
Sort of.

               
After Angelo played darts and won me a stuffed monkey that had
disproportionately long arms – so long they were just a head shorter than my
height – we headed onto the Ferris wheel.

               
“You were right,” I remarked after a long silence. It hadn’t been an awkward
one. It was actually quite pleasant.

               
“About what in particular this time?”
Angelo mused,
smiling smugly.

               
“About being stupid today,” I said. “It was nice… Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t
as bad as we thought it was.”

               
“No,” he agreed. “Maybe it isn’t… Or maybe it’s just the company?”

               
“We’ve celebrated Valentine’s Day together for the past three years,” I
reminded. “So that’s not it.”

               
“But this is the only time we’ve spent it as each other’s Valentines,” he
pointed out.

               
I looked at him curiously, “You trying to say something, Angelo?”

               
“No,” he looked out into the mess of people crowding around the booths. “Are
you sure you don’t want to perform? You could always tell Don that you got
better.”

               
“It’s the principle of the thing,” I shook my head. “I’m punishing him.”

               
“Are you really, or are you just punishing yourself?” he asked.

               
“I thought this whole ‘us being stupid today’ was me not punishing myself
anymore,” I reminded.

               
“Tell me you’re okay with throwing away a week’s worth of rehearsal just to
spite a guy you no longer care for,” he countered. I looked away and sighed.
“Just as I thought,” I could hear the smile in his voice.

               
“That doesn’t change a thing,” I turned to face Angelo again. “I’m not
performing with him.”

               
“Don’t you want to perform with me?” he bargained.

               
“Don’t you not want to perform with him?”
I countered.
“I mean, you never even liked the guy. So why are you still agreeing to it?”

               
“Can’t exactly let him suffer, because, contrary to your belief, I am not a
sadist,” he smiled. “Besides, I rehearsed. It would be a waste.”

               
“Well, if you want to perform, go ahead,” I shrugged. “I’m not going to stop
you. Have you guys found a replacement singer then?”

               
“Actually, I’m just going to sing the songs myself,” Angelo explained.