“Please. Higher education isn’t for me,” Kimiko scoffs.
Alex opens his mouth, probably to ask a follow-up question, but I rush in and say, “We’re in a book club together,” just to make sure our story stays consistent. The last thing I need is for Kimiko to say something different and Helen to frown and catch us in our lie. Besides, it’s not like it’s a big lie. It’s just a little white lie.
A tiny, existence-preserving, little white lie.
“Should we start? Who wants to go first?” I say to change the subject. Alex doesn’t immediately move, and I allow Kimiko and Helen to go ahead.
When I look back at Alex, he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
“A book club,” he repeats flatly.
“Remember, I started going twice a month on Thursdays?”
“You said that was a club meeting.”
“Yeah—bookclub,” I insist. Kimiko screams excitedly over her hole in one and calls us over because it’s our turn.
I feel Alex’s eyes on me as I swing, which unnerves me enough that it takes me five swings to get the ball in. Alex gets it in two, silent and stoic and—I don’t understand why—seemingly upset, and then we’re on to the next hole. As Helen gears up to swing, Alex walks over to me. I feel a moment of relief—maybe I’m imagining his weirdness.
“You hate reading,” Alex mutters. I blink up at him, thrown for a second as I adjust to the fact that we’renotpast this, apparently.
“I don’t hate reading,” I argue, but I feel threads beginning to unravel. Have I told him I hate reading? That’s usually something I keep to myself out of embarrassment.
My heart rate skyrockets—Imusthave told him at some point. We have spent countless nights lying in bed, talking about everything under the sun. Why wouldn’t I have told him?
Fuck.
I try to walk it back, amending, “I mean, I’m not ahugereader—honestly, I don’t even read most of the books the club picks. I just go for the free food and gossip.”
“What book are you guys reading?”
I blanch, trying to remember what books were big in 2012. It doesn’t need to be a new book, does it? It could be a classic. I know plenty of classic books—
“You’re up, Joey,” Kimiko calls out.
Saved by the bell. I walk up to the tee and feign nonchalance as I say,“Alex was just asking what book we’re reading this month. I forgot the title—what was it again?”
“Gone Girl,” she says without missing a beat, and I could almost kiss her because she chose a book I can actuallytalkabout.
Well, I can talk about the movie. But that doesn’t come out until 2014.
I manage to get the ball in after only three swings this time. Alex gets a hole in one. Kimiko shoots me a look as we silently walk to the next hole, and I realize I’m not the only one picking up on his weirdness.
This is the tensest game of mini-golf I’ve ever played in my life.
It’s strange, because it kind of feels like mini-golf is, by nature, something that relieves tension rather than creating it. There’s a plastic castle looming over us, for Christ’s sake.
“Gone Girl, huh?” Alex says as Helen struggles to get her ball in.
I offer him a short, tight nod and ask, “Have you read it?”
“Yeah, I read that one. What did you think?”
Why do I feel like he’s testing me?
“Haven’t started it yet. Like I said, I mostly go for the food and gossip.” I shrug. Alex doesn’t immediately respond, and we descend into a long silence. I realize this is one of the few awkward silences we’ve had together—maybe the only one—and I’m utterly baffled because I can’t figure out why he’s having such a strong reaction.
It doesn’t seem like I’m going to get an answer anytime soon, because Kimiko breaks the silence by announcing that she’s inviting herself to the End of the World party Helen told her about. She pulls me aside and promises she’ll keep an eye on Helen—she remembers everything I told her and wants to help.
