Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys

by Kate Brian

  “Oh . . . nothing. Just a project we’ve been working on,” Megan said, slightly flustered. Considering no one had talked to her or even looked at her all day, she found this a pleasant surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just thought it was so sunny out. . . . I thought I’d see what it was like out here,” Aimee said, looking around as if she had actually never seen the courtyard before. “It’s nice.”

  Megan’s heart warmed and she and Aimee exchanged a smile. “So can I . . . ?” Aimee asked, glancing at Miller, who was very intent on arranging his tray.

  “Miller, do you mind if Aimee sits with us?” Megan asked.

  “Aimee?” Miller said.

  “Yeah, this is my friend Aimee,” Megan said.

  “Hi,” Aimee said.

  “Hello,” Miller replied without looking up.

  “It’s okay,” Megan mouthed to Aimee.

  As soon as her friend was seated, Megan reached over and arranged everything on her tray in height order. Aimee looked at it for a second, shrugged, and picked up her sandwich.

  “So, how’re you liking your new school?” Aimee asked Megan with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Oh, I just love it!” Megan replied, playing along. “Everyone here is so nice!”

  “Well, at least some of us are,” Aimee said. “Right, Miller?”

  Miller didn’t respond. He clasped his hands under the table and stared at his untouched food. Aimee glanced at Megan uncertainly. Megan put her fork down and cleared her throat.

  “Hey, Miller, why don’t you ask Aimee something?” Megan said. “You can use that trick we figured out the other day. You know, with the baseball?”

  Miller glanced up at Megan. He had a skittish look about him, like he was a rabbit in a cage and Megan was rattling the bars. But Megan recognized the hope behind the skittishness. Miller wanted to be able to do this.

  “Go ahead, ask her anything,” she said. “She’s really nice. I promise.”

  Miller’s back had curved into a perfect C, but he was rigid with tension as he stared down at the table. He took a deep breath. “The New York Yankees captain Thurman Munson was killed in a plane crash in 1979,” he said in a rush. “Are you in Megan’s class?”

  Aimee looked a little stunned but regained her composure quickly. “Uh . . . yeah,” she said. “We’re both juniors.”

  Megan grinned.

  “The New York Yankees captain Derek Jeter won his first Gold Glove in 2004. Do you like baseball?” Miller asked.

  Aimee laughed, glancing quizzically at Megan. Megan just shrugged one shoulder. Aimee was only going to learn who Miller was the way they all did. Slowly but surely.

  “Actually, yeah,” Aimee answered. “I’m an Oakland A’s fan. I know, it’s bizarre, but my dad grew up in northern Cal, so—”

  “Did you know that Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson played for the Oakland A’s for nine years?” Miller asked, looking at Aimee for the first time.

  “No . . . I didn’t know that,” Aimee said with a smile. “I guess you learn something new every day.”

  Megan smiled too. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

  * * *

  That night Megan walked out of her room just as Evan arrived at the top of the stairs. They both stopped. For a split second, Megan was certain that Evan was going to say something, but then he brushed right by her into his room. He slammed the door to his room so hard she could feel it in her bones.

  She whirled around, her fingers curling into fists, and glared at his door. All she wanted to do was go over there and pound on it. Pound on it so hard it broke apart. He was supposed to be perfect.

  There was a noise out back and Megan stalked to the end of the hall to look out the window. The door to the shed was just closing.

  Finn.

  He was just as bad as his brother. Finn had stranded her that morning too and he hadn’t said a word to her about Spanish class, even though he never would have passed that pop quiz they had taken without her help. Megan turned and stormed down the hallway. Maybe she was too scared to say anything to Evan, but Finn . . . she was going to give that boy a piece of her mind.

  “You guys all suck, you know that?” Megan shouted, flinging open the door to the shed.

  Finn dropped his paintbrush on the leg of his jeans, where it left a streak of orange before hitting the dirty floor.

  “Sorry?” he said.

  “You! You suck!” Megan fumed.

  “We’ve been over this. I know I suck.”

  “Not your art. You! You . . . guys!” Megan shouted.

  Finn blinked. “Actually, I think I’m kind of an okay guy.”

  “Oh, please!” Megan said, squaring off in front of him. “I mean, what’s wrong with you people? Were you all born like this? Because it’s gotta be in your genes. Either that or you’ve all gotten each other in one too many choke holds over the years and you’ve deprived your brains of too much oxygen. Which is it?”

  “Megan, I think you need to sit down,” Finn said, carefully reaching for her shoulders. Keeping her at arm’s length, he steered her over to the old bench and pushed her down until she had to let her knees go and fall into the seat. “Now, is this about Hailey and Evan?”

  “No! It’s about you! You deserted me this morning,” Megan said. “And then I went to get my bike and the tires were flat. You guys popped my freaking tires! What is this? The McGowan Home for the Criminally Insane?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Finn said. “First of all, I did not desert you this morning. Evan said you wanted to ride your bike to school.”

  “Yeah, right,” Megan said.

  “He did!”

  “Well, I never said that,” Megan replied, swallowing hard. Just the thought of Evan telling Finn that so he could avoid her made her sick to her stomach. “I guess everyone around here is a liar.”

  “Again, I must defend myself,” Finn said, wiping his hands on an old washcloth and crossing his arms over his chest. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  Megan looked up at him. “No. Not that I know of,” she grumbled, averting her eyes.

  “Okay, good. Now we’re getting somewhere,” Finn said, pulling his stool over. “Now, will you do me a favor and tell me what really happened at the party on Friday night?”

  “Wow. You’re kidding,” Megan said. “Somebody actually wants to hear my side of the story?”

  “Yeah.” Finn smirked. “I do.”

  Megan took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Okay, I saw Hailey and Evan fighting and then Evan went into the pool room. Later I was looking for the bathroom, and I found him in this guest room, lying down on the bed. All I did was sit next to him and ask him what was up. We were just talking and the next thing I know, Hailey comes in and finds us lying there and freaks out. We went after her, but she disappeared out the back of the house. Then Evan left and that was it.”

  “That was it,” Finn said.

  “Yeah! That was it,” Megan repeated. “Then like an hour later, Aimee and I are hanging out and Jenna comes in and tells us she just saw Doug and Hailey having sex in the woods. That is all I know.”

  “Okay, so let me get this straight. You were on the bed with Evan?” Finn asked.

  “Big deal!” Megan rolled her eyes as she blushed. “For five seconds, I sat there.”

  “So Hailey didn’t see anything,” Finn said.

  “There was nothing to see.”

  “And you didn’t tell her that you and Evan hooked up.”

  “No!”

  “I believe you,” Finn said, standing up.

  “You do?” Megan said, shocked. “You don’t even want to think about it?”

  “What’s to think about?” Finn said, picking up the fallen brush. “You’re a good, honest person who is obviously distraught about all this. Evan and Hailey totally thrive on drama. It’s my expert opinion, knowing all the parties involved, that you are an innocent bystander who got sucked in by the Evan and Hailey vortex.” He dipped t
he brush in water and swirled it around, glancing at Megan over his shoulder. “Still think I suck?”

  Megan smiled. “Not so much.”

  “Look,” Finn said with a sigh. “Evan will come around.”

  “You think?” Megan asked.

  “Yeah, I think.”

  Megan wanted to believe Finn. He did, after all, know Evan a lot better than she did. But she still couldn’t get that picture out of her mind—the disgusted expression on Evan’s face when he told her to stay away from him. It definitely didn’t seem like he was going to come around.

  “Doug, however, is a little harder to call,” Finn said.

  Megan took deep breath. “You know what’s weird? I can almost understand why Doug did it.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, here’s the hottest girl in school—a senior—throwing herself at you and telling you that she and her boyfriend are broken up. . . . And I know it’s no excuse, but they were both really drunk. . . .”

  Finn’s brow knit as he laid the brush out to dry. “What are you, a guy?” he asked.

  “No. Just an observer of the obvious,” she replied.

  “Well, look, I just want you to know that I wouldn’t have left without you this morning if I had known,” Finn said.

  Looking into his eyes, Megan couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that Finn would do such a thing. He was Finn.

  “So tomorrow, we’ll drive you,” Finn said.

  “Nah, I don’t think so,” Megan replied, thinking of the ice-cold shoulder she had just received from Evan. “I think I’ll be taking my bike for a while.”

  “I thought you said someone flattened your tires,” Finn replied.

  “Right. I need to fix that,” Megan said, pushing herself up. “Do you guys have a pump around here?”

  “Somewhere,” Finn said. “Probably in the garage. I’ll help you find it.”

  “Thanks,” Megan said as they walked out together. “So, any idea who I can blame this one on?”

  “Too immature for Evan,” Finn said, standing by while Megan picked up her bike. “I’d like to say it’s too immature for Doug too, but who’re we kidding? He and Ian are your best bets.”

  Megan sighed. “Well, at least I know who my enemies are.”

  “And who your friends are, I hope,” Finn said.

  His smile touched something inside her. She looked at the ground and wheeled her bike across the grass. “Thanks.”

  Megan and Finn had just reached the back door of the garage when the sound of screeching tires out on the street caught their attention. Megan leaned her bike against the wall and they walked to the end of the driveway, arriving just in time to see Doug dive headfirst into the backseat of a tricked-out Honda Civic. It had fluorescent purple running lights and rims that had probably cost more than the car itself. Megan wrinkled her nose at the smoke billowing through the windows. A couple of people cheered and shouted as the engine roared and the car peeled out. They skidded around the corner at the end of the street, completely ignoring the stop sign, and screeched out of sight.

  “That can’t be good,” Finn said, echoing Megan’s thoughts.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want a ride, Megan?” Regina asked the next morning as she shoved her wallet and sunglasses into her purse. Megan sat at the breakfast table across from Ian and Caleb. To her right Sean was sipping coffee as he read a new book. This one was titled City of Glass, by Paul Auster. Megan would have to look that up on the web later.

  “No thanks. I kind of like riding my bike,” Megan said.

  “Okay. Well, if you ever do . . .” She checked her watch and adjusted her purse strap, looking frazzled. “Doug! Let’s go! I’m gonna be late for work!”

  “It’s printing! Keep your pants on!” Doug shouted from the rear of the house.

  Regina looked at Megan. “Did he just tell me to keep my pants on?”

  “I think so,” Megan said with a smirk.

  “That boy is lucky he did not grow up with my mother,” Regina said. “He would be out of teeth by now.”

  “What’s he doing?” Megan said.

  “Spell checking his Scarlet Letter paper on his father’s computer,” Regina said. “I guess I should just be happy he’s doing his homework this year, right? I had at least five parent-teacher conferences last year about him squandering his potential.”

  “Really?” Megan asked.

  “Doug’s the smart one,” Sean said flatly.

  “Not the only one,” Regina shot back, looking at Sean pointedly as she grabbed her keys.

  Sean ignored her and took a huge spoonful of Count Chocula.

  “Doug!” Regina shouted.

  “Patience, woman,” Doug said, tromping down the hall toward them. The two black eyes left over from his fight with Evan shone in the morning light. He shoved his paper into his bag and walked right by his mother out to the front porch, where Miller was already waiting.

  Regina took a deep breath. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change . . .” she muttered as she followed her son out. “Sean! Make sure the boys get to the bus!”

  “See ya later,” Megan said, getting up and placing her bowl in the sink.

  “Yeah,” Sean replied.

  Megan grabbed her bike and pedaled off to school, thinking about the exchange between Sean and his mother. If Doug and Sean really were the “smart ones” in the family, Megan could only imagine how frustrated their parents must be. Doug spent all his time doodling and being obnoxious and Sean spent all his time playing guitar and working on his bike.

  As she came around the corner at the edge of the school parking lot, Megan saw a haphazard line of people standing along the west wall of Baker High. She hit the brakes and squinted against the sun. Someone had tagged the school with blue and silver paint. She couldn’t make out the design from this distance, but it took up almost the entire wall.

  “What’s going on?” she asked the redheaded kid who was locking up his bike across from her.

  “You gotta see it,” he said. “It’s freakin’ awesome.”

  Megan’s brow creased as the kid took off toward the crowd and she bent to fasten the lock on her bike. A shadow fell across the sun. It was Finn and he looked nauseous.

  “What?” she said.

  “I told you it wouldn’t be good.”

  Megan’s heart dropped as she stood up. Every inch of her was on red alert. Her gaze trailed past him toward the school. “Oh no,” she said.

  “Oh yeah,” he replied.

  Together they hoofed it up the hill in front of the west wall and joined the throng. Teachers, students, office workers, janitors—everyone had come together to gawk, laugh, or shake their heads. Written in huge blue and silver letters were the words Baker Sucks. Below was an illustration, a quite good one, of a very familiar anime character peeing on a Baker High varsity jacket.

  “Well, it could have been worse,” one of the girls in front of Finn said. “They could have actually illustrated their point.”

  A bunch of people laughed and Megan and Finn exchanged a look. Megan now knew where Doug had gone the night before. And unless all the students and faculty in this place had neglected to notice Doug’s self-styled wardrobe, it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the school knew as well.

  From: Kicker5525@yahoo.com

  To: TooDamn-Funky@rockin.com

  Subject: Boy Guide

  Megan Meade’s Guide to the McGowan Boys

  Entry Ten

  Observation #1: Boys have immature ways of making their points.

  Like leaving you without a ride to school. Or flattening your tires. Or spray-painting really obvious graffiti involving pictures of pee.

  Observation #2: Boys can chill you out with just the sound of their voices.

  At least Finn can.

  Thirteen

  Megan had to hand it to Doug and his buddies—their inappropriate art display had definitely shifted the focus away f
rom her and her supposed escapades. All day the graffiti was all anyone could talk about. Who had done it? Was it someone from a rival school? How had they gotten up so high on the wall? Everyone had forgotten that Megan Meade even existed.

  The hallway was abuzz with the latest gossip when Megan and Finn walked out of Spanish class that afternoon. Aimee was standing across the hallway, waiting for them.

  “What’s up?” Megan asked.

  “They’re rounding up the suspects,” Aimee said. “Betsy pulled Chad Linus out of my trig class right in the middle of our quiz.”

  “Oh, crap,” Finn said, stopping in his tracks as they rounded the corner into the main hallway.

  “What?” Megan said, following his gaze.

  A few doors down, Doug was being ushered into one of the offices by a tall man with huge shoulders, a square jaw, and seriously thick glasses. The guy looked like Frankenstein without the neck pins.

  “Who’s that?” Megan asked.

  “Dr. Frank,” Aimee said. “The VP.”

  “You have to be kidding,” Megan said.

  “Trust me, the perfection of the name is not lost on any of us,” Finn said.

  Doug looked at the floor as he stepped into the office. He looked like a little kid. A little kid who was trying his hardest to appear tough but who wasn’t tough at all. Her heart went out to him, but at the same time she wanted to walk over there and smack him. Had he really thought that he wasn’t going to get caught?

  “I’m going in there,” Finn said, heading down the hall.

  “What? Why?” Megan asked. “What do you think you’re going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s my brother,” Finn said, raising his shoulders. “Call it a sickness, but I have this stupid compulsion to help the kid.”

  “Okay, I get that. I do,” Megan said. “But he clearly did it. Maybe he needs to get punished for it. Maybe . . . I don’t know. Maybe it’ll smack some sense into him or something.”

  Finn blew out a breath. “Megan, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t know the whole story, all right?”