M in the Abstract

by Douglas Davey

  Kristyn snorts, “He wishes! That’s probably, like, his total fantasy.”

  “Oh, my God! You’re so right! We have to remember that so we can torture him with it next time.” Cammy looks at Mary. “Don’t worry. I thought he was really hot and nice at first, too.”

  Kristyn adds, “Then he recorded this totally mean song about her and played it over their morning announcements.”

  “'Punk Rock Princess’ … It was totally embarrassing.”

  “Watch out or he’ll write one about you, Mare,” Kristyn warns.

  Mare

  For a while they walk in silence. Mary feels overwhelmed by the thankfulness and affection she feels for these two girls that she barely knows. Her mind, so often in conflict with itself, feels wonderfully clear. She feels like she could say anything to them.

  “Are you all right, Mary?” Cammy asks. “You’re real quiet.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Don’t worry about Solace. He’s an ass. You’re our friend now, and we’re like pit bulls for our friends.”

  Friends

  They cross another street and arrive at the bottom of the church, where a small white statue of the Virgin Mary stands, one foot treading elegantly on a serpent. Mary looks up at this woman who shares her name.

  “She’s really pretty,” Cammy says, and then, turning to Mary, “you’re prettier.”

  Kristyn adds, “Yeah, you’re fine.” Mary smiles and blushes at the compliment, tipping her head down. The attention is still hard to take but, coming from these two, it’s a little bit easier.

  Mary speaks up, her voice soft and hesitant. “My mom’s always trying to get me to change my hair and clothes and stuff.”

  “Don’t listen to your mom. Parents always hate everything we like,” Kristyn pronounces.

  “I was thinking of changing it anyway.”

  “You should get it cut really short, not super-short like mine, just short-short, like to your chin. That would look great. It would show off your eyes, too.”

  “I think you should get layers,” Cammy counters.

  “You think EVERYONE should get layers,” Kristyn says, exasperated.

  “Not everyone, just cool people.”

  “Go to hell, bitch!”

  “Whatever. You up for climbing the stairs, Mare? Number one view of the city.”

  Mary nods her assent and the trio heads up the one hundred or so stairs that lead to the highest point in the city. Mary cannot believe how easy it is to be with these two girls, and how quickly they have taken her in.

  Is this what having friends is like?

  The church steps are wide and shallow. All three are out of breath by the time they get to the top. They sit themselves down in a row across the uppermost step. Each girl angles her knees inward, making a row of three skinny triangles. The impressive façade of the church rises up behind them, with giant maple trees filling in either side.

  At the base of the long stairs, the street stretches out, disappearing into a distant cloud of greenery. Mary’s gaze moves up and over the stone buildings, through the hazy black of tar-covered roofs shimmering in the sunlight, to the faraway, forested hill where she now lives. On the hill, the peaked roofs of the tallest houses emerge from the leafy canopy, along with a few slate church steeples and a single flat-topped apartment building, Mary’s home.

  She feels overcome by the view, the exertion of the climb, the spontaneous friendship, all of it.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” Cammy asks, “Like I said, number one view in the city.”

  “I can see my apartment from here.”

  “Cool,” Cammy takes an elastic out of her pocket and pulls her long hair back into a pony tail. “Oh, my God, d’you know what would be awesome right now?”

  “Winning the lottery and getting an apartment like Mare?” Kristyn replies dryly.

  “Poutine!”

  “Mmmm … that’d be gooood,” Kristyn says, “but it’s so fattening. And I’m trying to be a vegetarian.”

  “God, it’s just gravy. And it doesn’t have a label or anything so you won’t even know how bad it is for you!”

  “Not having a label doesn’t stop it from being fattening, or whatever. And gravy IS meat.”

  “Uh … meat isn’t runny.”

  “Well, it’s meat juice or something.”

  “Whatever. All that matters is the super deliciousness of cheese and fries and gravy.”

  “What about you?” Kristyn asks Mary. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had poutine.”

  “No.”

  “That’s INSANE,” Cammy says.

  Insane

  “The best poutine place is this totally gross dive called Johnny C’s.”

  “Yeah, if you like roach poutine,” Kristyn fires back.

  “Oh, you’re so full of it. We’ve ate there, like, a million times and you’ve never even seen a roach there.”

  “Maybe, but I’ve heard stories.”

  Mary finds the courage to join in the conversation. “My mom and I went to that diner down there.” She points her thin index finger to the street that leads away from the base of the stairs. “She didn’t like it but I did.”

  “Which one?” Kristyn asks. “The one with the big sign on the left?”

  “Um ... I think so,” she says, pointing.

  “Was it totally ancient inside?”

  “Maybe. I had a grilled cheese and fries. It was pretty good.”

  With venomous anger, Kristyn says, “I know it. I hate that place.”

  Mary feels herself shrinking at this, the first sign that she has done something wrong. She is terrified that she may have said something to upset her new friend.

  I told you, her warning voice says mockingly. They’ll learn to hate you

  “Don’t listen to her,” Cammy says with a smile. “That’s ‘The Guest Haus’ and a certain someone …” she points at Kristyn, “… isn’t allowed in there anymore because she decided she was really, really angry at a certain ex-boyfriend and so she threw her milkshake at him and it went all over the place, and then, because she’s such a bitch, she wouldn’t help clean it up.” Mary looks at Kristyn, who then looks at Cammy and back again.

  “What?” Kristyn says defensively. “He deserved it. He was being an asshole. He TOTALLY deserved it. And they should have kicked him out, not me. Anyway, the ‘Haus’ doesn’t even serve poutine.”

  Listen to them, the way they talk. You could never be their friend

  But they’re still sitting with me, aren’t they?

  “Who was he?” Mary asks.

  Kristyn sighs and rests her head on her knees, giving Mary a chance to take a closer look at this girl, who seems so different from her. As Kristyn sinks into memory, Mary catches a glimpse of vulnerability underneath the shaved head, torn jeans, and swagger. After a few moments’ reflection, Kristyn speaks. “He’s just this guy I used to go out with. He’s the kind of person who always has to be right about everything. Don’t you hate that? We fought about it all the time, so we broke up.”

  “’Cause you threw a milkshake at him?” Mary says.

  “No!” she laughs, and looks at Mary affectionately. “We broke up later. It was a long time ago. It’s over. I don’t care if I ever see him again.”

  “Bullshit,” Cammy says. “Kristyn and him are, like, total soul mates and so, of course, they pretend to hate each other when they’re actually made for each other. And he wanted Kristyn to say she loved him – which she so does – only she wouldn’t say it after the first time he said it to her, and so they argued about it and then they broke up. Isn’t that the stupidest thing you ever heard? Most people would kill to have somebody cool love them.”

  “Whatever, Cammy, keep living in your crazy dream world.”

  “You’re gonna marry him some day, I know it.”

  Boyfriends, marriage …

  “No way!”

  “Yes, way. And I’m going to laugh and laugh in my stupid ugly bridesmaid dr
ess.”

  “No way am I ever, ever, getting married. Married people don’t really love each other, anyway. It’s all bull. Look at my parents. They hate each other. And anyway, if I DO get married, it won’t be in a church. It’s gonna be at a rock show or someplace cool, and everyone’s gonna get free tattoos. And it won’t be to a know-it-all, opinionated prick like him.”

  “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. You want a fairytale wedding and you know it.”

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Cammy turns to Mary. “You want a big, fancy wedding, right?”

  “I ... I haven’t really thought about it.”

  LIAR

  “I don’t think so.”

  “See?” Kristyn says triumphantly. “Mare’s smart. She sees right through all that Disney crap.”

  Kristyn fishes a crushed pack of cigarettes from a shoulder bag, hands one to Cammy, and offers one to Mary, who declines. “Let me guess. You don’t smoke, right?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever smoked?” Cammy asks.

  Mary shakes her head, wondering fearfully if this is the moment when Kristyn and Cammy finally realize how childlike, how different she really is.

  After a moment’s silence, Kristyn sucks on her cigarette and says, “Good.” Exhaling, she adds, “Don’t ever start. They may look cool but they’re wicked addictive. I crave them all the time and they screw up your lungs. I could barely climb the stairs.”

  Cammy leans back on her elbows and stretches out her legs. “My granny, not my grandma that I was telling you about before, but my other granny, she smoked her whole life. Her face looked like a prune. I know cigarettes did it but I still smoke them anyway.”

  Kristyn leans back and takes a drag. “We’re gonna stop soon, right, Cam?” She blows an impressive smoke ring into the afternoon air. “But not today.” The two girls continue smoking and the three stare out across the city, quiet for a while.

  Mary sits in wonderment, thinking of how easily these girls befriended her, and how wonderful it feels to be with them.

  And nothing bad happened

  She wants to close her eyes and sit with them forever.

  Cammy breaks the silence, “Van’s problem is that he’s too good-looking.”

  “That’s not his problem,” Kristyn replies. “Just because you’re good-looking doesn’t make you a jerk. His problem is that he knows he’s good-looking and he uses it to get whatever he wants. And people just give in to him.”

  There is a hint of resignation in Cammy’s voice as she says, “Don’t remind me. Still, he’s so good-looking, part of me thinks I’d do him. Again, I mean.”

  As she exhales, Kristyn adds in a wispy voice, “Me, too.”

  It’s okay, you can say it

  “Me, too,” Mary adds quietly.

  Kristyn punches Mary playfully on the arm. “Right on, Mare! I knew you were a wild woman!”

  Kristyn and Cammy laugh and Mary smiles, blushing.

  This is what having friends is like

  Kristyn pulls out her cell phone and checks the time. “Damn, we gotta go if we’re going to pick up some booze.”

  Mary asks, “How do you …?”

  “We have someone get it for us,” Cammy replies.

  Kristyn stands and stretches. She drops her cigarette butt on the step and grinds it out with her shoe. “Being underage sucks. But all Cammy has to do is smile at some university guy and he’ll totally get booze for us. It has to be her, though. I’m not girly enough for them.”

  “It’s because you don’t know how to work it. I just smile at them and act cute, and then, if they look like they’re not sure, I lean over and touch them on the arm.” Cammy mimics her act with Mary’s sleeve, flashing an adorable, pleading smile.

  “It never fails. Guys are so stupid,” Kristyn adds coolly.

  “We’re getting it for a party tonight,” Cammy says, standing and pulling Mary up with her. “You wanna come?” Part of Mary wants so much to say yes.

  “No … I can’t.”

  “That’s okay. You wanna walk with us to the liquor store?”

  “Sure, I guess, if you don’t mind.”

  “Wow, you are, like, the most polite person ever,” Cammy says and they head down the stairs. Kristyn grabs Mary’s hand and intertwines it with her own. The sensation of Kristyn’s touch creates an instant shock of physical memory; for a moment, it’s Van’s hand in hers, stronger and coarser. She has to resist the urge to pull away. Her mind reaches into itself, finding strength in memory: Kristyn and Cammy pulling her away from Van; talking with Nate in the hall; manipulating shadows in her room …

  Looking down, she removes her other hand from her pocket and

  Don’t be afraid

  Reaches down to take Cammy’s. Cammy grips Mary’s hand in response and smiles. Kristyn breaks out into a song, pulling the other two along behind her, plunging down the long set of stairs.

  When they reach the bottom, they begin walking at a more leisurely pace.

  “So, you live up on the hill?” Cammy asks.

  “Yeah, my mother and I just moved to … I think it’s that place right there.” She points to a large, flat-topped structure.

  “Wow, it’s really nice up there. You must be rich.”

  “No. We had to sell a lot of our stuff and move into a little apartment.”

  “That sucks! What happened? Did your dad lose his job or something?”

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  How much should I tell them?

  “We got time,” Kristyn says. “Don’t be embarrassed to have a fucked-up family. Everyone I know has one.”

  “Well …”

  It’s okay

  “My father left us when I was little, so I don’t really remember him too well. He was nice, though.”

  “If he was so nice, why’d he leave?” Kristyn asks.

  He left because of me, because I’m a freak

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did he at least pay child support?”

  “He used to, but it stopped coming a while ago, and I guess we owed a lot, and so my mom had to sell all of our stuff, even our car.”

  “What happened? Why did he stop?”

  “I don’t know. Mom won’t tell me. She says she doesn’t know.”

  Cammy joins the conversation. “That’s shitty! You know she knows. He could be dead and you wouldn’t even know it!”

  “CAMMY!” Kristyn shouts.

  “Well, sorry, but you know what I mean. Who knows what happened to him? You’re not mad at me are you, Mary?”

  “No … It’s just that … he’s been gone so long, I only remember bits ...”

  Sympathetically, Cammy adds, “But you still miss him all the time, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, not to be mean,” Kristyn says, glaring at Cammy who responds with a “what-did-I-do?” shrug, “but you have no idea how many times I wished my dad was out of my life. He’s so crazy, I call him Schizoid Man. My mom already kicked him out, so it’s just her and me and my brother, but I still have to see him and his bitch of a girlfriend sometimes.”

  Unsure of the right words to say, Mary stammers, “My mother isn’t a …

  A bitch

  … a bitch, but she wants me to be her friend. I hate it.”

  “Oh, God, there’s nothing more embarrassing than a grown-up trying to be your friend. My mom does that and she really IS a total bitch,” Cammy says.

  Kristyn does a half-turn and begins walking backward. “What the hell is wrong with parents? It’s like they either don’t like you or they won’t leave you alone. And they’re all psycho. I mean, why did they even have us in the first place?”

  A passing car, black with tinted windows, honks at them as it drives by.

  “Asshole!” Kristyn shouts.

  To Mary, Cammy says, “I swear, we can’t even walk down the street without some idiot thinking he gets to, like, harass us.” A buzzing, high-pitc
hed melody comes from her back pocket. She lets go of Mary’s hand and reaches in to grab the cell phone that is wedged in her close-fitting jeans. Looking at the call display screen, she makes a little yelp of pleasure and chirps, “It’s Gaylen!” Kristyn looks at Mary and rolls her eyes.

  “Why doesn’t he just text like a normal person?” Kristyn asks.

  Cammy sticks her tongue out at Kristyn, then brings the phone to her ear. “Hello! What’s going on with your sexy self? Uh-huh? No, I’m with Kristyn and this girl … Mary, nobody you know. We just met her downtown … yeah, we rescued her from hippie-boy … I know …”

  Kristyn yells in the direction of the phone, “SHE'S OUR NEW GIRLFRIEND AND WE'RE TAKING HER HOME TO HAVE A LESBO THREE-WAY!”

  “Gross! Shut up, Kristyn, God!!!”

  Mary has never really thought about what it would be like to be with a girl romantically, but now, with these girls, she can imagine wanting to be near them all the time.

  I don’t think that’s the same thing

  Mary returns Kristyn’s smile and Cammy goes back to her conversation. “What? No, we’re just going there now. Are you sure? How come? Okay, I’ll see ya tonight, beautiful. Bye.” She slides her cell back into her pocket. “Gaylen needs us to pick him up a mickey of vodka.”

  “No way! He can get his own damn booze.”

  “He’s still at band practice.”

  “God, these guys and their crappy bands. Like they’re ever going to make it.”

  “You can get your own booze if you’re going to be a bitch about it.”

  “Fine. But I’m not paying for his.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it and then get him to pay me back. And then I’m going to get him drunk and then I’m going to have my way with him.”

  “Now THAT'S gross,” Kristyn says with a shiver.

  Looking at Mary, Cammy says, “She’s just jealous because he likes me and not her.”

  “Why would I be jealous of some frat-boy wannabe? He’s a loser and you could do way better.”

  The subject is dropped.

  “Okay, we’re here.”

  Cammy asks Mary, “What’s your cell number?”

  Unlike her classmates, Mary has never wanted a phone, has had no use for one.

  What are you going to say? You’re too much of a freak to have anyone to call?