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I immediately feel guilty for my snarky thoughts. This is the hard part about having best friends that I feel no attachment to—I don’t give them any benefit of the doubt. And being best friends is always about the benefit of the doubt.
Carrie is very excited about Corey, so I pretend to be very excited for her. It’s only after we separate for homeroom that I feel an emotion kicking at me, one I thought I had under control: jealousy. Although I am not articulating it to myself in so many words, I am feeling jealous that Carrie can have Corey while I can never have Rhiannon.
Ridiculous, I chastise myself. You are being ridiculous.
When you live as I do, you cannot indulge in jealousy. If you do, it will rip you apart.
Third period is band class. I tell the teacher that I left my clarinet at home, even though it’s in my locker. Leslie gets marked down and has to take the class as a study hall, but I don’t care.
I don’t know how to play the clarinet.
Word about Carrie and Corey travels fast. All of our friends are talking about it, and mostly they’re pleased. I can’t tell, though, whether they’re pleased because it’s a perfect match or because now Carrie will shut up about it.
When I see Corey at lunchtime, I am unsurprised by how unremarkable he is. People are rarely as attractive in reality as they are in the eyes of the people who are in love with them. Which is, I suppose, as it should be. It’s almost heartening to think that the attachment you have can define your perception as much as any other influence.
Corey comes over at lunch to say hi, but he doesn’t stay to eat with us, even though we make room for him at our table. Carrie doesn’t seem to notice this; she’s just giddy that he’s come by, that she didn’t dream the whole IM exchange, that chatting has escalated into speaking … and who knows what will happen next? As I suspected, Leslie does not move in a fast crowd. These girls are thinking of kissing, not sex. The lips are the gates of their desire.
I want to run away again, to skip the second half of the day.
But it wouldn’t be right, without her.
It feels like I am wasting time. I mean, that’s always the case. My life doesn’t add up to anything.
Except, for an afternoon, it did.
Yesterday is another world. I want to go back there.
Early sixth period, right after lunch, my brother is called down to the principal’s office.
At first I
think I may have heard it wrong. But then I see other people in class looking at me, including Carrie, who has pity in her eyes. So I must have heard it right.
I am not alarmed. I figure if it was something really bad, they would have called us both. Nobody in my family has died. Our house hasn’t burned down. It’s Owen’s business, not mine.
Carrie sends me a note. What happened?
I send a shrug in her direction. How am I supposed to know?
I just hope I haven’t lost my ride home.
Sixth period ends. I gather my books and head to English class. The book is Beowulf, so I’m completely prepared. I’ve done this unit plenty of times.
I’m about ten steps away from the classroom when someone grabs me.
I turn, and there’s Owen.
Owen, bleeding.
“Shh,” he says. “Just come with me.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Just shh, okay?”
He’s looking around like he’s being chased. I decide to go along. After all, this is more exciting than Beowulf.
We get to a supply closet. He motions me in.
