by John Goode
Madison had made it clear the first day what I was asking for was impossible, and I doubted he was going to budge off his position, even in the face of things like life-threatening illnesses. He’d turn me down, I’d fail and have to come back to Foster… maybe I just wasn’t meant to be at college in Cali. Thinking that brought up another question: did I want to go back? I mean, sure I did, but what if Brad still said no? Was I willing to throw away college and a life outside of Foster just to be with him? I didn’t know which answer scared me more. If I was willing to give everything up to be with Brad, didn’t that mean I was a crackpot? But if I wasn’t, did that make me a cold bitch who wasn’t willing to try to be with the person I loved?
I was so tired and wound up, I wanted to scream.
No, scratch that. I wanted to have sex. I wanted to have crazy, wild, monkey sex with Brad and just get all this doubt and stress out of my system. I wanted to sit on the living room floor eating Mrs. Phan’s noodles while we argued about what to watch on Netflix. How had I let all that go? What the hell was wrong with me?
I felt the voices in my head rising to a crescendo, and I needed to do something before I actually screamed. So, taking a page from Father Mulligan’s book, I decided to see if the guy upstairs was taking requests.
Closing my eyes, I said to myself, “Okay, look, I know this seems shitty, me talking to you only when I need something, but I’ve tried to do right by you and I think you know that. I’m not asking for you to change Brad’s mind or to magically make me sane. I just need a sign, a small sign that tells me everything is okay. That this is all part of your incredibly complicated but well-meaning plan, and that I have nothing to worry about.” I paused. “I don’t know if you want me to offer you anything at this point, but I will. I mean, I don’t have much and it would seem petty for someone who can literally do anything to ask for payment, but maybe you want some kind of collateral, so I’ll continue to be a good guy even if you don’t do this for me. So here it is. Just one sign, one tiny sign, and I promise, I’ll spend my life doing good. I don’t know how, but I will make it my goal. I want to make the world a better place and I think you want that too. So please… one sign, and I am your guy for life.”
The room was silent save the subdued tones of Laura Branigan going on again about her idiotic friend Gloria. I opened one eye and looked up, waiting for something, anything to happen, but nothing did.
“Oh well, it was worth a shot,” I mentally said. “Doesn’t matter, I’m still your guy either way.”
Which was when my mom started to cough.
It was so startling, I almost fell out of my chair. They had removed the ventilation tube yesterday, since she was breathing fine on her own, but it looked like she was trying to gasp air something fierce. I pushed the call button a few dozen times and then screamed for someone to help me. Her eyes opened and she kept coughing even when she reached out to me. I took her hand, terrified, and she gasped what sounded like “water.”
I slopped some into a glass from the pitcher that was always beside her bed, steadied her with one arm, and waited while she took a deep gulp. Nurse Redmon came charging in with two other nurses behind her. My mom coughed a couple more times and then finished the glass while they checked her vitals.
After almost a minute of her drinking and them checking, even I could tell she wasn’t in any distress. She was just thirsty. Redmon looked at me and smiled. “She’s okay. She’s just groggy.”
They moved aside, and I stepped closer to the bed. My mom looked ten years older than when I left for college, and I felt a swell of emotion flood my throat.
“Do me a favor,” she half whispered. I nodded, ready to promise anything. “Turn that off. I’ve always hated that fucking song.”
I began to laugh as tears fell from my eyes. “I hate it too.”
Okay, God, you got your guy.
Brad
SO WHEN my parents got home, we had a conversation about my future.
I don’t want to get into the details because it was long, messy, and emotional, but in the end I think it was for the better. They tried to talk me out of what I had decided, but I insisted this was my life and I needed to do what I thought was best.
My mom looked like I had said I was going to jump off a bridge.
When I got back to my room, I saw a missed call from a number I didn’t know and a voice mail. I checked it, and it was Coach Gunn asking me to call him back. For half a second I wondered what I had done that was so bad he needed to call my phone. Then I remembered I wasn’t in high school anymore, and he was just calling me like a normal person.
As the phone rang, I still mentally went back over the last few days, just in case.
“Good. You got my message,” he said as way of a hello. “I need a favor this weekend.”
“Um, sure,” I said, not sure at all.
“A couple of people have backed out of chaperoning the Winter Ball, and I need some warm bodies to make sure no one does anything stupid.” Small pause. “Well, stupider than normal.”
“You want me to be a chaperone?” I asked, kind of shocked he would think I was up to the task.
“Yeah, I already asked the sheriff’s daughter and she said Josh is in town, so they’re doing it; I need a couple more. Can I count on you?”
He asked the same way a mob boss would remind you that you were family.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Good. Thanks.” And he hung up.
“So much for small talk,” I mumbled, slipping my phone into my pocket.
Kyle
SO THE day of the dance, Robbie held an intervention for me.
I’m sure he thought he was getting a group of my friends together to try to talk some sense into me; nonetheless, I felt like I was a crack addict who had ripped each one of them off. Tyler, Matt, Robbie, and Sebastian were there, along with Jenifer, Josh, Gayle, and the surprise guest of the day.
Dolores.
Gayle had closed Nancy’s down, so we were all sitting at a bunch of tables moved together for the occasion. Mrs. Mathison looked like she was going to get common dirt all over her; she sat in her chair trying to make as small a target as possible. I sat down in the only other vacant chair and waited. Everyone knows that a person being prosecuted as a witch doesn’t speak first.
Robbie started it off. “So you must be wondering why we asked you here.”
“Nope,” I answered truthfully.
That made him pause. “You aren’t?”
“Nope,” I repeated. “I’m sure it’s some well-meaning attempt to tell me I’m wrong about something, but no, I wasn’t really wondering.”
He gave me a sour look and Tyler took over. “Look, Kyle, you know we want you and Brad to get back together, and we all tried to help you out with that, but you can’t be seriously thinking about not going back to school if he turns you down.”
I pointed at Sebastian. “He told me to ask myself ‘what would Brad do?’ This is what he’d do.”
“Sebastian”—Robbie said the word as if he wanted to use Sebastian’s name to beat him over the head—“says a lot of things. You have to learn what to listen to.”
“Thanks,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “Yes, I gave you that advice, but I didn’t mean to flush your future down the toilet because of it.”
“Honey,” Gayle said softly. “You have to go back to school, with or without him.”
And that was when Mrs. Mathison figured out what we were doing there. “Who is not going back to school?” she asked the room.
“Nice of you to join us,” Robbie mumbled under his breath. “Kyle is thinking of not going back to college if Brad turns him down tonight at the dance.”
She looked at him and then at me. “You can’t stop going to college because of a boy. That’s ludicrous.” I didn’t say a word. “You have to go back to school, that’s all there is to it.”
I silently counted to ten before I answered everyone at the same time. “Thank you f
or your concern, but the choice is mine.”
Everyone started talking at once. Each one of them was telling me I was being stupid and making a mistake and that this was not the way I should go about it. I mean, I assume that’s what they were saying, because they just sounded like a flock of geese to me, all honking at the same time, making noise to make noise.
Tyler stood up and put two fingers just past his lower lip… I plugged my ears because I had seen his trick before.
A sound came out of his mouth that was in no way unlike a pterodactyl trying to yodel. I was pretty sure that he could shatter glass if he put enough force behind that whistle. Everyone stopped talking, a few made faces, and Jennifer and Josh covered their ears.
Once everyone was silent, he commanded, “One at a time or not at all.”
Robbie shot him a dirty look and then looked back to me. “This is a mistake.”
I looked at Sebastian. “This isn’t what I meant by ‘what would Brad do.’”
Tyler: “I know what it’s like wanting to go to the mat to get the guy, but seriously, Kyle, you can’t throw away college on that.”
Matt shook his head and indicated that we should move on.
Jennifer: “You can’t blackmail someone to get back with you, and that’s basically what you’re doing. ‘Get back with me or I will drop out of college.’ You know what Brad will say to that.”
That one hurt.
Josh: “Dude, Brad is a great guy, but if it’s meant to be, it will be. You can’t force things like this.”
Gayle: “Honey, you have to trust that life will get you where you need to be.”
And finally Dolores: “If you don’t go back to school, find another way to pay for your mother’s hospital bill.”
That got a reaction out of me. “Seriously?”
She gave me a small smile. “Trust me, young man. I don’t waste time with frivolous activities. When I say something, I mean it.”
I looked back at Robbie, and he seemed sad and pleased at the same time. “I told you.”
“You told him what? That I was an evil woman who was trying to taint his soul?”
“I told him that no gift from you comes without strings.”
“There are no strings. Our arrangement was that if he went back to school, I’d pay for her hospital bill. If he isn’t going, the deal is off.”
“That wasn’t the intention of me bringing you down there,” Gayle said, standing up.
“Your intention was for me to help the young man, and I am.” She looked dead-on at me. “Go back to school, earn a degree, and become a better person or stay here, wallow in poverty, and know you’re trapped here only because of your own choices.”
Robbie took two steps toward her, no doubt ready to read her the riot act. I stopped him. Cold.
“You have no idea how to use the word ‘wallow.’ You’re trying to imply I am going to wallow in the mud like some kind of pig, which, by the way, is how they stay cool, since they have almost no sweat glands. So wallowing like one is a pretty smart way to keep cool and survive when it gets too hot. The second definition is to indulge in an unrestrained way, which is not what I would be doing, because I would be taking care of my mom and trying to win back the heart of the guy I love. Only a woman so far removed from reality that she thinks living in Foster is a bad thing would use the word you did.”
She glared silently at me.
“Keep your money. Robbie was right; it comes with too high a price.” I turned around and looked at Matt. “Come on, Matt. Everyone else got a chance to swing at the piñata. You don’t want to miss out on the fun.”
He shook his head again. Tyler nudged him and said, “Go ahead, say your piece.”
Everyone looked at Matt and he sighed, defeated. “Okay, do you want me to say what I think?” I shrugged and nodded. “I think you should not stop until you get him back.” The geese started honking again, and Matt put his fingers up to his mouth. The geese stopped. “I’m sorry. You guys make sense, but this isn’t a matter of sense. This is a matter of the heart. Logic and reason don’t always have the weight they do in real life once the heart is involved. Kyle, you want him? You think you can’t live without him? Then go and tell him that. Go and don’t stop until you can make him believe, and don’t listen to anyone in this room. Don’t listen to anything, period, except the voice in your heart.”
Tyler was giving him an odd look, and Matt smiled at him. “You’re talking to the guy who couldn’t date anyone else because I saw you mow the lawn shirtless one day. I believe in true love, and I think he should go for it.”
Tyler’s expression softened, and he looked like he really wanted to kiss Matt. Instead he looked at me. “I changed my mind. Go get him.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Robbie exclaimed. “Has everyone gone nuts?”
“I’m with them,” Sebastian said. “Go get ’im.”
“How odd,” Dolores said to Robbie with no humor in her voice. “We seem to be in agreement for once.”
“Well, now I know I’m wrong,” he said, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Fine, you want your moose? Go get him. We’ll be there cheering you on.”
I looked back at Dolores and said, “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested.”
She slowly got up and again tried not to touch anything around her. “Happy wallowing,” she said and walked out of the diner without a backward glance.
Robbie waited for the door to close before he added, “I’d sing ‘Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead,’ but it’s been done.”
We all laughed, but I knew this was the start of the hard part. This was it: do or die time.
I really didn’t want to die. I mean, seriously.
Brad
WHEN I walked in, the dance was in full swing.
I checked my watch because I always thought chaperones were supposed to arrive before the kids. From what I could see, I was the last one there. Jennifer and Josh stood talking by the food table, so I made my way over there to see what was up.
“—not manipulating people. We are just trying to….” Jennifer paused when she saw me. “Hey, you.”
Wow, she was a bad liar.
“What’s going on? Coach Gunn told me to be here by seven. When did the dance start?”
Josh shook his head and handed me a cup of punch. “Here. You’re going to need this.”
I smelled it and would have been shocked to find any actual fruit punch floating with the alcohol. “Did the kids do this?”
“Nope,” Josh said, opening his coat, showing me his flask. “Trust me, drink.”
I saw Jennifer shoot him a dirty look and knew tonight was going to be a clusterfuck. I chugged what was in the cup and, when my brain got over the shock, wondered if I could clean fuel injectors with what Josh had in his flask. “So what’s really going on?”
“What?” Jennifer asked, looking back at me. “What do you mean? It’s a dance—what else would be going on?”
Oh God.
Josh looked like he was going to spill the beans but was interrupted and stayed silent when Robbie and Sebastian walked up. “Now I know why I didn’t go to any of these things when I was in high school,” Robbie commented dryly. “This is about as exciting as watching paint dry.”
“What are you guys still doing here?” I asked, knowing the answer already. “Thought you were heading back to New York.”
Sebastian looked away, and Robbie just leveled a gaze at me. “What? I can’t stick around and enjoy the Foster nightlife?”
I glared back at Josh. “Okay, what the hell is going on?”
The song finished and the lights on the stage came up. “Now for something completely different,” the DJ announced. A dark-haired kid came out with a guitar in his hand. He sat down on a chair and began to tune the instrument.
Oh freakin’ no: whatever was going to happen was worse than I could have imagined. “Josh, what is happening?”
The lights on the stage went dark and a spotli
ght hit where the kid was sitting next to a lone microphone. I knew he was there a second before he stepped into the light. Kyle looked like he was about to throw up, and he grabbed the microphone stand as if it was a life preserver.
“This is for love,” he said and then took a deep breath.
“Oh God,” I said under my breath as he waited for the guitar.
“Come on, baby….” he sang, his voice cracking slightly from nerves.
I had always told Kyle he had a decent singing voice when I heard him crooning in the shower, but he never believed me. I never thought it was about him not thinking he could sing; it was about him being terrified of people hearing him sing. He hated attention, especially attention like this, but there he was, singing “You Can Sleep While I Drive” in front of everyone.
He had shared the song on our trip to California as one of, if not the most, romantic songs he had ever heard. I had listened with an open mind, but what was romantic to Kyle was sad as fuck to me. Melissa Etheridge’s voice sounded like she was on the verge of crying as she begged this person to go with her.
Which was what Kyle was doing right now.
He told me he had a full tank of gas and his hand shook slightly. Everyone looked up at him, captivated. Not by the singing, though it was good, but by the human drama of the moment. Glancing around, I saw more than a few people looking at me as well, and I knew I’d been right: I’d been set up. Of course, I wish I had figured that out before I came there, but what could I do about it now?
He sang about his bags and guitar and his voice warbled again, and it was like nails on a chalkboard to me. He was dying of fear up there, and no one else could see it. When he started going on about Santa Fe, I started toward him, not sure what I was going to do but knowing Kyle was in pain and I needed to do something about it.
He sang about the morning and my dreams and he looked up and saw me. I heard the change in his voice as he fought off tears.