The Dangerous Art of Blending In

by Angelo Surmelis

  But he doesn’t say anything because he’s too busy staring at the arms around my waist.

  “Thanks for the invite.” With that, the grip releases. I turn around. And now I’m facing him.

  “Gaige.” He’s tall, taller than Henry, and the only person I know with wilder hair than mine. He has the kind of big, perfect smile you see on one of those toothpaste commercials, and his nose is the opposite of mine. Sleek and straight. He’s not wearing his glasses.

  He says, “Glad we can see each other before I—”

  “Are you all together?” Ali, the girl working behind the ice cream counter, is flirty-smiling, but only at Henry. They all flirty-smile at him.

  “A hot fudge sundae for my friend. Vanilla ice cream, extra nuts, no cherry. I’ll have . . . uh, two scoops of mint chip with lots of whipped cream. No nuts, no cherry, no sauce.” Henry’s not even looking at me right now.

  Suddenly Gaige is introducing himself, and Henry is watching him and also me, and I’m not saying anything, but I reach into my pocket for some cash before Henry stops me with ready, neatly folded bills.

  “I got this. I invited you.” He then looks at Gaige. “What do you want?” At first I think he means, What the hell do you want with Evan? But then I’m like, Oh, right. Ice cream. He’s talking about ice cream.

  “Um, just a chocolate cone, but I’ve got it.” Gaige reaches in his pocket and pulls out a twenty. Henry fake smiles at him and shakes his head. “I got it, man.”

  Gaige says, “Do you have something going on after this, or you got time to hang for a bit?” He leans in. “I’ve got beer back at my hotel.”

  I point to Henry. “We’re going . . . we have something that . . . gotta get back home after this. But we can hang later. Before you leave.” He shrugs and nods.

  Ali smiles sweetly. “You’re Henry, right?”

  He nods, and smiles back at her. Everyone is smiling but me.

  “I’m Ali. We’re in physics together.” She’s still not giving him back his change.

  “I know that, Ali. Hi.” Even though he’s still smiling, he’s acting oddly stiff.

  Okay. So Henry gets all worked up wanting to know if I’m into Tess or not and now he’s flirting with this girl? Really? Maybe it’s his way of getting back at me. Either way, it’s pathetic.

  “I’m having one last pool party this weekend, and if you wanted to come . . .”

  “Oh, yeah. That sounds cool.” Henry flashes her a big, dimply smile. Fuck you, Henry. And Ali!

  “Oh, and you . . . Kevin? You and your friend are welcome too.”

  “It’s Evan. Thanks. My friend’s from out of town.” I’ve been to Ali’s house at least twice. Is she pretending to not remember me?

  “I’m here for a few days,” adds Gaige.

  Henry says, “That sounds fun. We should all go.”

  As I stand there thinking, No, no, we should not.

  “Great. It’s going to be on Saturday. I’ll get you the details.”

  All three of us move to the end of the counter to wait for our orders.

  Henry looks at Gaige. “So how do you and Evan know each other?” It’s like I’m invisible right now. I tell myself, You have finally mastered the art.

  Is Gaige really going to come to that party?

  Are we all going? I’m supposed to register for Greek school on Saturday.

  Like that—all my worlds are colliding.

  As Gaige says, “We met at summer camp this year.”

  Sorry, Gaige—not that storyline. “He’s in town taking a college tour. He knew that I lived in Kalakee. . . . The church his family attends is an affiliate of my family’s church—that kind of stuff.”

  Henry says, “Nice. Evan never talks about his friends from camp.”

  I think, Now would be a good time for the rapture.

  “Well, he probably never met anyone like me.” Gaige smiles. Big.

  “We had stuff in common,” I blurt out.

  Henry looks at both of us. Is that a hurt expression?

  We get interrupted by Tess and Kris, which I welcome at this point.

  “Were you guys playing tennis tonight?” Tess is chattier than I’ve seen her before, like she’s anxious or something. Or like she likes you, Evan. I smile uncomfortably.

  I jump in. “Nope. Work—homework. Are you here with Jeremy?” Of course I know now she’s not, but maybe with the power of suggestion I can help make this happen for him if he’s too big an idiot to do it for himself. Also, I’m actually happy to move on to this awkward exchange. Anything’s better than the one I was just having.

  I offer, “We’re just here.”

  “Like a date?” She laughs.

  “This should be good,” Kris says.

  “This is Evan’s friend from California. Gaige,” Henry says.

  “Nice to meet you.” Tess inspects Gaige and then Henry, then me.

  Kris nods at him. “Hey.”

  As the girls start chatting with each other, Gaige turns toward me and whispers, “When are we going to get some alone time?”

  “Not now,” I whisper back, and quickly look around to see if anyone is watching.

  Henry turns his attention to Tess. “You and Jeremy are on a date?”

  Kris snorts. Loudly.

  Tess laughs and twirls her hair. “No, I meant you two. You’re here for ice cream after homework, like a date.” She giggles again. As if that’s funny.

  I start to feel my face get warm. Henry turns back again toward the counter. I glance at Gaige and he shoots me an uncomfortable stare.

  I stand there saying nothing and feeling all kinds of anxious.

  “Here are your orders.” Ali is holding Gaige’s cone.

  “Yep, Tess. Just like that. Is that a problem?” Henry says.

  She half smirks at him.

  “Not a problem at all,” Kris assures him, sounding annoyed at Tess.

  “All right, then. Hope you can get a date with Jeremy, Tessie,” Henry says as he grabs his order. He knows she hates being called Tessie. Why is he being like this?

  Tess’s face immediately turns angry.

  “I’m not interested in Jeremy!” she says too loudly. So much so that Jeremy, and pretty much everyone else, hears her. Kris gives her a smirk and walks away.

  I glance over at Jeremy and he just shrugs, but I can tell his feelings are hurt.

  Tess is still focused on us. Henry hands me my sundae and smiles like a big weirdo at me. Gaige looks totally confused, as if he doesn’t know what he’s witnessing. Then Henry turns to face Tess, licks the whipped cream that’s piled insanely high on top of his mint chip ice cream scoops, and says, “If not Jeremy, who are you interested in, Tessie?” He’s just fucking with her now.

  “Why would I tell you?” she huffs. “And please don’t call me that anymore.”

  “Why wouldn’t you? We’re no threat if you think we’re dating.” He signals with his one ice cream free hand to us. As in me and him.

  There’s a part of me that doesn’t like the way he’s acting. It’s not like him to be so mean-spirited, and what I love about Henry is how kind he always is. But still. Having him say that out loud in front of everyone—even if it isn’t true—gives me a thrill.

  That immediately turns to panic, though, as I’m trying to control the redness of my face—and at the same time wondering what in the world Gaige must be thinking right now.

  All I wanted was a sundae. Just a normal outing. I don’t get these opportunities often. Suddenly, I’ve been pulled into this universe where people are flirting and not flirting and wigging out and talking in circles and just showing up from California. Tess gives Henry an angry face this time before she turns around and heads to the corner where the girls from the volleyball team are cluster-laughing. Kris smiles at me. Like we share a secret.

  Henry sticks his spoon in his pocket and keeps licking the whipped cream. He turns to me. “You ready? Nice to meet you, Gaige. See you this weekend.”

/>   And I can’t help it. I think, Ready for what?

  I turn toward Gaige. “Um, I’ll see you Saturday?”

  He nods but looks baffled. “Okay. Maybe. I’m not sure I . . . can we talk before then?”

  “I’ll text you. I have your number. You gave it to me at camp, remember?”

  Gaige looks directly at me and answers, “Yes, I do.”

  Henry’s eyebrows go way up at that. I try to breathe as we walk away.

  thirteen

  After the awkward exchange in Bugle’s, we’re now sitting in Henry’s car eating our ice cream. With almost every other spoonful he looks up at me. I try not to make noise. I’ve been known to make these kinds of happy noises when I get lost in the way something tastes, like a constant humming-moaning sound. Henry may have even been the one who pointed that out to me.

  “No good?” he asks.

  “No, it’s great. Why?”

  “Can’t be that great—you’re too quiet. Want to taste mine?”

  “Yeah.” I take my spoon out, but before I know it he’s moving his spoon toward my mouth.

  “Here.” He feeds it to me and then waits for me to finish it. “Good, right? They are the best here. I’ll miss this place.” He takes his spoon back and continues to eat. “Why didn’t you tell me about Gaige?”

  “Well, I didn’t think . . . forgot, I guess. I mean, I went to camp with a lot of people, not just him. So . . .” Okay, rein it in, Evan. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “What?”

  “You said you’ll miss this place.”

  “No, just one day. We talked about this . . . one day we’d get out.”

  I don’t like the idea of Henry leaving without me. But that’s not why I get quiet. I’m quiet because I’m trying to process what’s going on between us right now and what was that spoon thing? Spooning? We’re spooning now?

  Henry says, “You’re not going to offer me any?”

  We share food all the time. But we’ve never shared food like this. Do I have to do that spoon move now? What is this move? I feel like it’s all too much for me.

  He’s waiting. So I put my spoon in the sundae and make sure to get a scoop with ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and nuts. It’s a skill to get that perfect spoonful.

  I lift it and start to bring it up to Henry’s mouth. Fuuuuuuck, why did I wear so many damn shirts! I’m sweating so badly again and now my hand is practically shaking.

  Henry leans in and takes the spoonful into his mouth. He never breaks eye contact.

  “Mmmmmm, that was the perfect ratio.”

  He reaches under his seat to pull out a plastic grocery bag. He puts his empty ice cream cup in it. I quickly finish and toss mine in as well.

  “He remembered you.”

  “Who?”

  “Gaige. All the way from Cali.”

  “He’s checking out colleges here.”

  “His family is like yours?”

  “Well, they’re not Greek.” I laugh nervously as I search my brain for something else to talk about. “Why did you keep needling Tess so much back there?”

  “Ugh. I don’t know. It was a dick move, right? Something about the way she was talking about shit. It really bothered me. I don’t know.”

  He finally starts up the car and begins driving. “Where to, Ev?”

  I think about how the monastery would be good right now. I’ve wanted to tell him about it for a long time but never had the nerve.

  “Ev?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “If you don’t come up with a place I’m just going to keep driving till we get to California.”

  “Would that be so bad?” I laugh nervously, but kind of mean it.

  Henry gets silent for a split second, then says, “No. It wouldn’t be bad at all.” Then he’s quiet for what seems a really long, uncomfortable time.

  “Hey! I’m just driving here. Waiting.”

  “I got it.” I take a breath and say, “Have you ever been to the old monastery? It’s on your side of town.”

  “I’ve been by it. It’s abandoned, right?”

  “They store large farm equipment in part of it, but there’s a whole other section that’s just like they probably left it. It’s like a museum. There’s a room with nothing but statues. Like a party of statues.”

  “How do you know this?”

  I think for a minute and wonder if I should tell the truth. Is it time to tell someone, to tell Henry—everything about me?

  “Because I broke in. It was unlocked, but—”

  “And you never told me? I live just blocks away and you didn’t ever think to say, Hey, man, how about you come with me to this cool place . . . By. Your. House! Wow. So many secrets.” I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not.

  I can feel my nervous energy. The bottom of my feet tingle and my toes start to go numb. I’ve thought about telling him all the time. Telling him everything, not just about the monastery but about what happens at home, about what I’m feeling, what I’m feeling about him.

  “Even after all these years, Ev, I still don’t feel like I know you sometimes. And I tell you everything. I told you about the stuff with Amanda when that shit show was going on, and yet I’m always left wondering with you. Like Tess. Now Gaige.” We’re both quiet for a bit before he starts again. “Do you know that in all the time we’ve been friends I’ve never been inside your house? Not once. And oh yeah, by the way, my mom has invited you over for dinner tomorrow. I think meat loaf and something.”

  “You don’t tell me everything. You couldn’t possibly.” His driving has sped up. “Slow down, maybe.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know right now and I’ll tell you something.”

  I try to laugh it off. “See, you don’t tell me everything or you wouldn’t have anything to share.” And then I look around. “Where are we going?”

  “The old monastery. I want to see this statue party.”

  Toes completely numb now. Once we go inside, I’ll have one less secret from him. And then, what could happen next? Fuck. I try to wiggle my toes to get the feeling back.

  Aside from the light cast from the Subaru, it’s pitch-dark out there. We’re driving in the middle of farm country and it’s quiet and flat for miles.

  “Well, I’m waiting.” He’s clearly not going to let this go.

  “So, I’m starting?”

  “Stop stalling, Ev.”

  I’m thinking hard. What can I tell him that isn’t so . . . humiliating? Revealing? When he gets tired of waiting for me to find something to say, he blurts out, “I’m not going to college. At least not for a year.” He’s looking straight ahead at the road.

  “Wait, what? How is this just coming out now? When did you decide this?” I’m genuinely stunned. “What about the scholarship? Do your parents know that—”

  Henry jumps in, “Look. My mom and dad both know. They’re not thrilled, but they’ve agreed to it. The scholarship is . . . it’s not my thing. Everybody else seems more excited about it than I am. It’s starting to feel like tennis is my job now. I love playing. We have so much fun when we play, right? I don’t ever want to not love it.”

  “Sorry.” It feels like I should say more but I don’t know what.

  Henry nods.

  We come to a clearing and I see the roof of the monastery pop into view. He pulls into the long, bumpy gravel driveway and it becomes clear that his car needs new shocks.

  “Is there anywhere to park up there?”

  “I don’t think so. I ride my bike here after hours, and there’s a gate that’s locked. We can climb it, but we can’t drive onto the grounds.”

  “Why have I never seen this side of you? I’m just going to park over here and we can walk the rest of the way.”

  He pulls off to the far right side of the drive. He parks half on the gravel road and half on a grassy downward slope. I may just fall out when I open my door.

  “What side?”

  “This living-on-the
-edge, breaking-into-an-abandoned-building side. It’s probably best if you get out through my door.” He climbs out and extends one of his arms to me. This is ridiculous.

  “I got it, Henry.” I grab onto the steering wheel to give myself some leverage, slide out part sideways, and wind up folding into myself. I fall onto the gravel and hit the parts of my body that aren’t already badly bruised. The pain is mild compared to the embarrassment I feel right now.

  “Are you okay?”

  I leap up as fast as I can and start brushing off gravel dust. “Totally fine. Let’s get up there. Can’t wait for you to see this place.” I lead the way.

  Henry tries to seem stern as he says, “Do not for a second think that I’ve forgotten you owe me something I don’t know about you!”

  “And don’t think that we’re done talking about you not going to college.” I’m running toward the gate. I can hear Henry’s shoes on the gravel—he’s running behind me. He catches up and we’re now side by side. He grins as his longer legs take full stride and he’s passed me. Even though he’s only about three inches taller than me, in moments like these it might as well be a foot. He leaps and touches the gate before me.

  “Ta-da!” He throws his head back and closes his eyes toward the pitch-black sky. His hair, which is usually flopping onto his forehead, is all swept back. I steal a look for a brief second. Here stands the guy who has never judged anything I’ve said or done, even though I don’t tell him anything. Yet there’s a part of me that feels he may already know stuff I’m not telling him. And he still doesn’t judge.

  “Let’s climb this sucker.” He’s starting up the fence. “I’ll go first and can help pull you to the top.”

  “Henry, I’ve been here hundreds of times and have climbed this fence without incident.” I grab onto two wrought-iron bars with both hands. Extra firmly. I don’t want a repeat of the car exit. “I don’t need help doing something I know how to do.”

  He’s halfway up. “You’re telling me that you’ve never poked yourself with these sharp things on the top?” He’s now starting to pull himself over.

  “They’re called forged spear points, and I have never been poked or hurt in any manner by this fence at all.”

  “You’re such a dork. Of course you know what they’re called.”