The Taming of the Drew

by Gurley, Jan

  As Helena gave a numb nod, I remembered with a squeak, “Finals! Our psych projects!”

  Drew said, “Want to work on them together?”

  You might have thought he meant some wink-wink kind of euphemism, but he looked awfully strained. “Listen wise-guy,” I said, “I’m in worse shape than anyone in the class. I got Freud, and I’ve done nothing.”

  Drew said, rubbing his chin, “Seems like, if you use both our moms…”

  “You’re right! Women are to blame for everything. And you could combine our Pavlov. Wait,” I said, feeling my eyes narrow, “what exactly did you do to Pavlov me?”

  The entire group stared at Drew. “Not that much. Well. Some.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  He pointed at my hand. The earbud, tethering him to me, was still clutched in my fist. “This?” I said, once again ascending to my head-voice without really trying. “You trained me to want an earbud?”

  He leaned forward and murmured against my ear so no one else could hear, “I can keep improving how I reward you. If you want.”

  I dropped the earbud leash like it was molten.

  Greenbacks concentrated intently on the floor’s linoleum tiles, as though their final grades depended on recognizing the patterns. I think I saw several smiles being suppressed.

  Celia said, “Before you get all full of yourself, Mr. Pavlov’s Dog, you ought to know I heard Mrs. Gleason nominated you.”

  All eyes lifted. Drew looked like he was strangling in a choke chain. “What?” he demanded, eyes bulging, “She what?!”

  “She nominated you for this year’s graduation speaker. I bet you’ll be a shoe-in.”

  Luke said, “It’s true. I overheard Mr. Whitworth say it shouldn’t conflict with the mandatory band performance at graduation. A triangle’s so small, you can leave it on the podium while you talk.”

  Drew said, “Ah. Band performance. Of course.”

  We stood in the atrium between the Academy and University areas. A small group of teeny ninth grade Uni girls crept close. One of them darted forward, earrings trembling. She stared up at our group.

  “Do you play in the band?” she asked, as her friends edged closer.

  Drew shoved a hand in his front pocket, his other arm reaching out to tug me close. “Well,” he said, “sort of.”

  She said, “Sorry. But I wasn’t talking to you. I meant him.” She jerked a chin at Luke.

  A hand tugged my sleeve and I turned to find another girl nibbling biscotti as she stared up at me. She took her time, chewing, then swallowed and said in a fakey Minnie Mouse squeak, as though that was how girls should talk, “I wanna buy,” She pointed with her biscotti, “an iCandy. Of him.”

  It was Luke.

  I looked at the twenty she fished out of her cellophane-tight Seven jeans’ front pocket. Hmm, we could use more money. For benches in the circle. And wastecans. And more arborist time.

  As I reached to take the twenty, Luke barked, “Kate! Snap out of it!” They had surrounded him and his eyes were shrieking help me helpmeHELPME.

  I could see his point. One of the girls might have been cute, but a swarm made you think they could strip the meat from your bones in less than twelve minutes. Drew chuckled beside me, not helping. Instead he pulled me against his chest, the flat of his hand rubbing up and down my back, absent-minded, as if watching them reminded him of something.

  Their squeaky voices were getting more animated and shrill. Beside us, Bianca stretched, her right hand at her hip as she twisted, getting the kinks out of her back. Then she padded her way through the huddle of mice-girls to Luke’s side. She didn’t even touch him. She stood there, behind his left shoulder, still an inch or two taller than Luke in her short heels, her eyes half-closed. One look at Bianca and they fled, including the girl with the twenty.

  “Oh here. That reminds me,” Celia said, matter-of-factly, handing me a small box, “You may as well know, Kate, that the guys on the football team want to apologize. They were actually groveling, asking me if I’d give this to you since the Dog won’t talk to them any more. Now don’t take it the wrong way. For them, this is the highest compliment imaginable.”

  I opened the box, to find one of those tiny-ball-bearing kind of chains, the kind you sometimes find on lamps or closet light fixtures. It connected in a circle to be a necklace. Attached to it was a thin metal disc. A pet’s nametag.

  Engraved on it, where the name goes, was The Bitch.

  A shocked silence settled over the group, sinking like fog.

  “How sweet,” said Viola.

  Alex reached over my shoulder and snatched it, running in circles and shouting, “I got it! I got it! It’s mine I tell you — bwah-ha-ha-ha — you’ll never get it back!”

  Celia said to me, her voice back to being disdainful, “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a University thing.”

  I said, my face feeling like it would ache tomorrow from smiling so much today, “Hey, it’s hard to argue with the truth, isn’t it?”

  That’s when I looked up, remembering who had been invisible all this time. Gonzo hung at the back, hands in pockets. The dim light of the atrium made his ears look like translucent semi-circles.

  I leaned to Celia and said, “Whaddya think? Is Gonzo a pitt, or a depp?”

  Celia’s eyebrows panicked, jumping up before she got them under control and back in the frown position. “Don’t be a complete fool,” she said to me. “Surely even you can spot an obvious depp when you see one.”

  I know Gonzo heard because his ears glowed stove-eye red.

  From across the atrium, Gremio spotted Celia and, without visibly moving, condensed next to us out of a cloud of hotdog smell. “I believe my shift is over,” he said.

  Celia dug in her bag. I saw Gonzo’s eyes widen as he understood what was going on.

  “Celia paid you?” Gonzo said, his voice hollow with horror at the brain-searing and olfactorily-offensive figure that is Gremio. “To be Tio’s dad?”

  Gremio said, “Best job I ever had. Without free pork products, that is.” He counted bills.

  “You’d do something like that? At a school, no questions asked, just for money?” Gonzo eyed Gremio from top to bottom, his voice getting thick with disgust.

  Gremio said, “You better be there Saturday, Kate, even if you’re withdrawing. And listen, buster,” (buster?) Gremio said, pointing an angry finger at Gonzo, even as he beat a hasty retreat, “before you go sitting in judgment of other people, I’ve got my limits. I don’t do naked.”

  Ew.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bonus Material

  Bonus Material

  I overslept the next morning. The sun had finished pinking the air and was working on yellow-washing everything — the air, the trees, the grass, the dirt. It was a big job. The cut-tree smell of sap, sharp and foul, clung to the inside of my nostrils like that piney hospital smell.

  There were two flat stumps now — the big dark tough one in the middle of the circle and the smaller, pale one, still seeping like an amputation. I kept my head down and went as far as I could to the other side of the circle.

  Which is why I didn’t see Drew until I almost stepped on his foot. He sat at the base of the furthest tree, his knees up and his forearms balanced on them, hands hanging limp in the middle. He didn’t smile, even when he saw me, but kept frowning.

  “C’mere,” he said, and half-stood. We slid down together and he pulled my head in against his shoulder, his hand cupping the back of my head like he didn’t want me to see the stump.

  I breathed in against the skin of his neck, and some of the hurt loosened. He smelled of soap and this warm-toast guy smell. I rubbed my cheek against his collarbone, my lips brushing back and forth against the skin of his neck.

  I heard the school bell and felt him shudder at the same time. It was an all-over shiver, like he shook off water.

  I looked up at him and he stared at my lips. Finally he said, “Probably we should go.”
/>
  He kept staring.

  I licked my lips and said, “Probably.”

  He stood, holding my hand and pulling me up with him.

  Standing meant I could see the raw stump again. He turned my chin back toward him with his finger. His eyes were intent, a glint of something in them. “You know it’s not over, your deal with my mom, right?”

  “You’ve got to be joking. How could she still think you need anyone to—“

  He interrupted. “She says you promised her the prom. Which is tomorrow.”

  My mouth opened. Finally, some words came out. “Your mother is asking me to the prom — with you?”

  He folded his arms, one side of his mouth tilting up in a smile. My heart swelled in my chest. He gave a shrug. “Personally, I think she’s right. Face it, I need you as my keeper. My role is to stay warm at home, secure and safe, knowing you’re working hard to make sure nothing bad happens to me.”

  “So you’re not bringing anything to the relationship, is that what you’re saying?” My voice hummed from the effort of not laughing.

  “Well, my fair looks. True obedience. But that’s the least I can offer, after you’ve had to put up with, you know, a sullen, sour, arguing rebel. It’s a wonder you survived. I mean, I gave you some pretty scornful glances, right?”

  “Who’s paying for the prom?” I said, staring at his mouth and thinking it probably wasn’t a great idea for me to reach over and pull him to me and wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers sliding up through his thick hair.

  I put my hands in my armpits and hunched my shoulders.

  His smile got wider. “You’re in charge of the purse.”

  “Ah. Clothes By The Pound?”

  “More fun that way. But, hey, I got the corsage.”

  He took a step around the tree next to us, leaned over and reached for something on the ground. “Close your eyes,” he said.

  I stood in the morning air, feeling the day heating around me. I could hear distant shouts, the muffled clump of car doors in the parking lot.

  His lips brushed mine, and this time I was the one to shiver. “Open them,” he breathed against my mouth.

  He held a pot in his hands.

  In it, leggy and frail, the tips of the leaves yellow-new, was a tiny baby redwood tree.

  “Kind of hard to wear,” he said, and I realized he looked at me intently, his voice uncertain.

  He had to jerk his arm wide to keep the baby from being crushed when I flung myself against his chest.

  Good thing he’s got quick reflexes.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Taming of the Shrew

  The Taming of the Shrew

  By William Shakespeare

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew

  ACT I.

  SCENE I. Padua. A public place.

  [Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.]

  LUCENTIO.

  Tranio, since for the great desire I had

  To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,

  I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,

  The pleasant garden of great Italy,

  And by my father's love and leave am arm'd

  With his good will and thy good company,

  My trusty servant well approv'd in all,

  Here let us breathe, and haply institute

  A course of learning and ingenious studies.

  Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,

  Gave me my being and my father first,

  A merchant of great traffic through the world,

  Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.

  Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence,

  It shall become to serve all hopes conceiv'd,

  To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:

  And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,

  Virtue and that part of philosophy

  Will I apply that treats of happiness

  By virtue specially to be achiev'd.

  Tell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left

  And am to Padua come as he that leaves

  A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,

  And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.

  TRANIO.

  Mi perdonato, gentle master mine;

  I am in all affected as yourself;

  Glad that you thus continue your resolve

  To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.

  Only, good master, while we do admire

  This virtue and this moral discipline,

  Let's be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray;

  Or so devote to Aristotle's checks

  As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd.

  Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,

  And practise rhetoric in your common talk;

  Music and poesy use to quicken you;

  The mathematics and the metaphysics,

  Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you:

  No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;

  In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

  LUCENTIO.

  Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.

  If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,

  We could at once put us in readiness,

  And take a lodging fit to entertain

  Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.

  But stay awhile; what company is this?

  TRANIO.

  Master, some show to welcome us to town.

  [Enter BAPTISTA, KATHERINA, BIANCA, GREMIO,and HORTENSIO.

  LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside.]

  BAPTISTA.

  Gentlemen, importune me no further,

  For how I firmly am resolv'd you know;

  That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter

  Before I have a husband for the elder.

  If either of you both love Katherina,

  Because I know you well and love you well,

  Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

  GREMIO.

  To cart her rather: she's too rough for me.

  There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

  KATHERINA.

  [To BAPTISTA] I pray you, sir, is it your will

  To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

  HORTENSIO.

  Mates, maid! How mean you that? No mates for you,

  Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

  KATHERINA.

  I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;

  I wis it is not halfway to her heart;

  But if it were, doubt not her care should be

  To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,

  And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

  HORTENSIO.

  From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!

  GREMIO.

  And me, too, good Lord!

  TRANIO.

  Husht, master! Here's some good pastime toward:

  That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.

  LUCENTIO.

  But in the other's silence do I see

  Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.

  Peace, Tranio!

  TRANIO.

  Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.

  BAPTISTA.

  Gentlemen, that I may soon make good

  What I have said,--Bianca, get you in:

  And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,

  For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.

  KATHERINA.

  A pretty peat! it is best

  Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.

  BIANCA.

  Sister, content you in my discontent.

  Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:

  My books and instruments shall be my company,

  On them to look, and practise by myself.

  LUCENTIO.

  Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak.

  HORTENSIO.

  Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?

&n
bsp; Sorry am I that our good will effects

  Bianca's grief.

  GREMIO.

  Why will you mew her up, Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell, and make her bear the penance of her tongue?

  BAPTISTA.

  Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd.

  Go in, Bianca.

  [Exit BIANCA.]

  And for I know she taketh most delight

  In music, instruments, and poetry,

  Schoolmasters will I keep within my house

  Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,

  Or, Signior Gremio, you, know any such,

  Prefer them hither; for to cunning men

  I will be very kind, and liberal

  To mine own children in good bringing up;

  And so, farewell. Katherina, you may stay;

  For I have more to commune with Bianca.

  [Exit.]

  KATHERINA.

  Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not?

  What! shall I be appointed hours, as though, belike,

  I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!

  [Exit.]

  GREMIO.

  You may go to the devil's dam: your gifts are so good here's none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell: yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.