Melt

by Selene Castrovilla

  staring

  while he was sleeping.

  And he didn’t want

  me

  and

  Jimmy near no girly shit neither he said

  no sons

  of his

  were gonna

  wind

  up

  fags. So Mom had to

  pack

  them up she

  wrapped

  them in that

  bubble stuff she

  taped

  the boxes

  real

  good

  so no dust would get in and she

  left

  them in Grandma’s

  basement.

  I still remember them I remember their

  faces all

  smooth and delicate their

  eyes so

  wide so innocent like

  nothing bad’s

  ever

  happened

  to them. Pure that’s it they were

  so

  pure.

  She’s like that.

  Hey

  Doll,

  I said that’s what I

  called her

  without even thinking.

  I almost didn’t go over there she was with frigging Amy Farber her crowd

  don’t

  see

  me

  even when they see me. But she had those big blue eyes like my mom’s dolls so I went.

  She said something ‘bout

  the

  movies

  I didn’t know

  what

  she was talking about. I thought

  she was pissed but

  then

  she smiled

  and

  it

  was

  okay.

  Her hair’s like those dolls’ too.

  Long and glossy.

  And wavy.

  It’s wavy

  like you could just

  unfurl

  your fingers in it and set course.

  You could just drift far

  far away.

  There was all this noise in there. There was people

  yakking on line ordering

  donuts and shit

  there was registers ringing there was tip

  cups clinking

  there was background music some kind of top forty whining b.s. but when we started talking there was

  only

  our voices.

  She’s new

  here

  she’s from New

  York, she said. You could tell she had class she was wearing a top that actually fit her it

  covered her not like these girls who let their stomachs hang out all over the place like that’s

  supposed to be attractive.

  I must be

  crazy even

  talking to her, I thought. She’s probably used to all these

  rich

  fancy

  dudes but the way she kept

  looking

  at me

  I thought, Well maybe ….

  There was all these eyes

  watching.

  There was Jimmy and the guys at the table

  there was

  frigging

  Amy

  there was the people buying

  donuts and shit there was the people

  ringing

  shit

  up.

  But when we looked at each other there was

  only us.

  So I introduced myself I didn’t wanna

  stick

  out

  my hand

  partly ‘cause it’s a

  disaster all twisted

  up from fights and I thought

  for

  sure

  it would spook her but also ‘cause she looked like a

  doll

  like one of Mom’s

  dolls

  and you

  shouldn’t

  ever

  touch

  them

  they might break.

  But I did it.

  I

  forced

  myself

  ‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do

  especially

  when someone’s from a place all classy and

  polished

  like New

  York that’s what they do there and anyway

  I

  can’t

  lie

  I really did wanna do it, I wanted to

  touch

  her.

  And she took it.

  She

  took

  it.

  I thought she

  wasn’t

  gonna but she slipped her

  soft

  soft

  fingers round my

  rough

  scabby

  hand.

  She

  touched me she

  touched me she touched

  me

  and something warm

  crackled

  through my body.

  It didn’t start in me it didn’t start in her it started right between our hands like two sticks rubbing

  like some kind of

  friction

  we caused together.

  For sure I thought she’d

  drop

  my hand like a

  hot

  potato

  and run right outta Dunkin’ Donuts but

  she didn’t.

  She said

  her name was

  Dorothy

  and I thought,

  Where’s

  Toto? But thank god I kept my trap shut that time ‘cause how many chances

  do

  you

  get

  really before you’re chalked up for the

  jerk

  you

  are?

  We were still holding hands looking at each other I was just glad I wasn’t

  drooling

  or something I’m such a

  doofus and then

  fucking

  Amy

  cleared her throat

  A-hem

  and Dorothy

  let

  go.

  You coming or what, Amy asked her and she said

  yes

  she

  was.

  She said

  nice

  to meet

  me and all that crap.

  I figured,

  That’s

  that.

  She went to the counter and ordered a croissant and a mocha latte for crying

  out

  loud. What made me think

  someone

  like

  that

  would like

  someone

  like

  me?

  Someone who’d pick a

  croissant

  over a bagel or a donut.

  Someone willing to pay

  three

  times

  the

  price to have

  foamy

  milk

  on her coffee.

  She could have anything

  she could have

  anyone.

  So

  why

  the

  hell

  would she ever want

  me?

  I started heading to the guys. I stared straight at the

  psychedelically

  pink

  wall tried not to catch their eyes ‘cause defeat’s hard enough without having to

  look your friends

  in

  the

  face.

  The smell of

  brewing

  lattes

  was making me dizzy.

  The white ceiling lights beamed

  down

  on my head

  bright

  brigh
t

  bright.

  The noises in that place were

  way

  too

  loud.

  My Nikes

  slipped across

  pale smoke tile

  I could barely lift my feet.

  It was all I could do not to

  shut my lids and

  melt

  right

  into

  the

  gray.

  But then I heard

  my

  name.

  She called

  my name

  she called my name she

  called

  my

  name.

  She called me

  back over.

  So I

  went.

  Two

  Dorothy

  It was hard enough coping with all those swarming emotions without Amy there watching. I mean, I knew how she felt about Joey, and her standing there was like an invasion of our privacy. And she kept shooting these looks at him, like he was a gob of gum someone smushed under one of the tables.

  Even though I didn’t know him, I wanted to shield him from her glare.

  The crazy thing was, even though I didn’t know him, I did.

  I don’t like gossip. Usually they’ve got it wrong, somehow. And even if they’ve got it right, it always sounds like a judgment on the person they’re talking about, who’s not invited to give his side of the story. On the surface it sounded like she was trying to warn me about Joey, but deeper, it was really that she needed people like Joey to put down, to make her feel better about herself. If he was bad, then she must be good. But things are never black and white like that.

  When she broke in and asked if I was coming, it wasn’t a question. There wasn’t room for me to say no, not if I wanted to go meet everyone—everyone who counted, according to Amy. I caved, without thinking. I said yes, I was coming, and kind of brushed him off.

  I didn’t mean to, but I did.

  Standing at the counter waiting for my stuff, I looked back for him. But he wasn’t watching me anymore. He was kind of slogging back to his table. His shoulders were slumped—those beautiful arms practically dragged at his side, and he moved so slowly ….

  I couldn’t bear it.

  “Joey,” I called out over the sounds of grinding coffee, “Hey, Joey, come back.”

  Amy made this tut-tutting sound. She said she’d be in the other room if I decided to come, and then she sashayed away the way some girls do when they’re just too cool. Personally, I walk. I don’t wiggle, strut, or even stroll. I make it my business to walk, period.

  At that point I wasn’t too broken up about Amy heading off.

  I’m not that desperate.

  Joey spun around with his shoulders straightened and his head held high. We locked eyes and he smiled that smile again, just a little, around the edges. He strutted back over the grey tiles.

  Here’s the thing about strutting. On guys, I like it. Guys need a certain something in their walk, it’s part of who they are. On girls, it’s just pretension. For guys, it’s a necessity.

  “Hey,” he said when he got up close again. He was still smiling.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling back. I’d never felt so instantly comfortable with someone, but at the same time there was this great pressure pounding in my chest, telling me not to blow it somehow.

  Truth is, I’d never had a boyfriend. I’d hung out with a few guys, gone to the movies and such, but I never felt any inclination to go further with them. There was never any connection. I kind of thought that connection stuff was something fabricated by Hollywood, or conjured up in people’s minds—people who needed to believe that there was some soul mate out there waiting to complete them, because they couldn’t bear the burden of completing themselves.

  I wasn’t looking for completion, but god it was nice to feel.

  So there I was doing all this mental babbling but saying nothing to him. He was just watching me, wearing that little side smile, almost like he was listening to the thoughts inside my head. It would’ve creeped me out with anyone else, but with him, it was awesome.

  He must’ve known that I was back in focus, because he said, “Wanna sit, or something?” He pointed to a table for two by the window, overlooking the parking lot.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We sat, stared at each other some more, in a really cozy way.

  Like they do in the movies.

  Like I never thought could be, in real life.

  I sipped my latte. “Want some?”

  He shook his head no. “I don’t do foam.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  He made a face like he couldn’t believe he’d said that. “Uh, I mean ….”

  “It’s fine. You don’t do foam. I can respect that.”

  He laughed. He had such a great, deep laugh, and his eyes twinkled when he did it, like they were laughing too.

  “So, are your parents into The Wizard of Oz? That why they named you Dorothy?”

  “Actually, I’m named after Dorothy Parker.” I pulled a piece of my croissant off and popped it in my mouth.

  “Who’s that?”

  “She was a writer in the 1920s. She used to get together with a bunch of other literary types, hang out at the Algonquin.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The Indian tribe?”

  “The hotel. It’s in Manhattan. They used to talk shop, booze it up. Chat a little, drink a lot, you know how it goes.”

  “I can relate to the drinking part,” he said, in a way that was both funny and not. “Well, she sounds way more cool than Dorothy in Oz.”

  “I wouldn’t knock either one,” I said. “That Dorothy in pigtails and plaid, she had a lot of spunk.”

  “Yeah, I guess she did,” he said. “Maybe there’s something about the name.”

  He kept staring into me with this intensity, and all of a sudden the air in Dunkin’ Donuts seemed so still, so stagnant. I wanted to be outdoors with him.

  I wanted to breathe in the whole world with him.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I said.

  Joey

  She wanted to go for a walk

  get out of there.

  Fine by me.

  I got hit with a sugar craving suddenly so I got a jelly donut to go. Then I shot a

  quick nod to the guys at the table so fast

  they didn’t have no chance

  to act like the dopey hyenas they are

  in front of

  her.

  We crossed the parking lot, weaving past the cars and the SUVs. There was all this traffic

  going up and

  down

  the street—there’s only one main road in this

  pointless

  town—

  and so all these cars kept

  barreling

  by.

  Inhaling all those exhaust

  fumes was making me queasy. Weird, because I’d never even

  noticed them

  before.

  Hey, Doll, I said. Then I did a

  mental

  face

  slap.

  I’m sorry, I said quickly.

  She gave me that pretty smile again and I knew she

  didn’t care really

  that I called her that.

  She didn’t have to say it I just knew and that was so

  incredibly

  awesome.

  Still

  I had to stop

  ‘cause it was rude.

  I said,

  I mean

  Dorothy ….

  Wanna walk by the water?

  By the water we could

  breathe really

  breathe in the air.

  I wanted to breathe

  fresh

  air

  with her I wanted to know how that

  felt.

  Like I ever gave a shit

  about the air before.

  Who
the hell knew

  why these crazy thoughts

  were bouncing through my head. I just hoped they didn’t

  up

  and

  leave

  as quick as they came.

  Sure,

  she said. She

  said,

  I was thinking the

  same

  thing.

  We walked on the sidewalk real close

  me clutching the

  waxy

  paper

  bag

  with my donut.

  I was glad I had it ‘cause the thought

  to slip her my hand

  kept popping into my stupid

  brain and that was one thought that would not do.

  For sure

  that would be it then. You can’t go doing something so bold as that when you meet a girl not a girl like this.

  But I wanted to anyway I wanted to

  so

  bad.

  I wanted to

  feel her hand in mine again

  feel that energy it was like a new drug.

  Hell

  it was better than any drug I’d had so

  thank

  god

  for

  the

  waxy

  paper

  bag.

  We didn’t talk much on the main road ‘cause the traffic was kind of loud but it wasn’t weird walking without talking like it is with most people. With most people you’re always

  grabbing

  for words trying to

  fill in

  the emptiness.

  It wasn’t like that with her not at all.

  We turned the corner onto a side road and

  I asked her. So what did Amy say about

  me?

  Oh … nothing, she said.

  Yeah

  Right, I thought.

  I stopped short and

  looked at her.

  Nothing … good, she said with a laugh.

  I laughed too then.

  Frigging unbelievable

  that she could get me to

  laugh like that.

  I almost told her then

  I almost told her it was true

  basically

  whatever Amy said

  but I let it

  go.

  For once for

  once

  for

  once I had a moment that was

  golden

  and

  damned if I was gonna

  ruin it by telling her what a

  scumbag

  I was.

  I

  really

  wanted to touch her

  hand

  and I was

  so

  scared

  that I would

  never

  get to do that

  again.

  Not

  that I deserved to anyway. Christ

  I had to warn her

  who the hell

  she was dealing with.

  We got to the water to this inlet or something I always forget what it’s called.

  It’s part of Reynolds Channel but it’s got this separate name.

  Anyway we got to this bench by the

  water

  and

  we

  sat.

  It was really warm for February even there by the