My Life as a Rhombus

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My Life as a Rhombus Page 15

by Varian Johnson


  I dialed Gail’s number, and she picked up on the first ring. “We’ve got a situation,” she said. “Xavier’s drunk.”

  “What? Since when did he start drinking?”

  “Michelle broke up with him this afternoon, and I guess he decided to drown his sorrows in Colt 45,” she said. “I can’t send him back home in this state, and my folks are liable to walk in any second now. Can we stay over at your place until Xavier sobers up?”

  “No way. Dad’s at home tonight.” I glanced at Sarah, as she leaned against the wall, her hands on her belly.

  “Is everything okay?” Sarah asked.

  I put my hand over the receiver. “Xavier’s drunk. Can we bring him over here?”

  Sarah nodded. “Sure. Mom’s at a conference in Boston this weekend.”

  I brought the receiver back to my mouth. “Bring him over to Sarah’s house.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

  “Gail …”

  “I’m thinking,” she replied.

  I shook my head. “It’s not like we have much of a choice.”

  She sighed. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  I hung up the phone and turned to Sarah. “Why don’t you brew a pot of coffee? I need to talk to David.”

  Sarah nodded, and as she headed to the pantry, I turned down the hallway and made my way to David’s room. I stood outside of his door for what seemed like hours. I had passed by his room countless times on the way to Sarah’s room, but I had never entered it.

  I finally knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  I opened the door. David stood at his dresser with his shirt off. I didn’t have a true appreciation of David’s physique until that moment. His stomach was flat, and his shoulders and arms were extremely well defined.

  David and I had been going out for almost a month, but our physical relationship hadn’t advanced much further than a few passionate kisses. He did a very good job of keeping his hands in all the correct places and I tried to do the same. As I looked at his chest, I realized I was missing out on quite a treat.

  “Hey,” David said. He seemed a little taken aback to see me standing at his door. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “We just got back.”

  He reached into a drawer and pulled out a black T-shirt. He didn’t look to be in any hurry to put it on, and truthfully, I wasn’t in any hurry to have him put it on.

  “I don’t think we’re gonna make it to the movies tonight,” I said.

  “Why?” David walked over to me, his torso still exposed. “Is something wrong?”

  I forced myself to look at his face instead of his chest. “Michelle broke up with Xavier, and he’s taking it pretty bad.” I leaned closer to him. He smelled like he had just stepped out of the shower. “He’s also a little drunk,” I whispered. “Gail’s on her way over here now with him.”

  “I see. You have to play the responsible friend tonight.” He smiled, and for a second I forgot about Xavier and Gail and everyone else in the world. “It’s okay. We’ll go out another time.”

  “Are you sure? You could still go to the movie—”

  “It’s okay,” he said, finally putting on his shirt. “Anyway, I wasn’t going to watch the movie. I was going to watch you.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on my earlobe.

  I felt my face getting hot. Ever since we had started seeing each other, I felt less and less depressed about not getting the scholarship to Georgia Tech. I had even reduced my weekly ice cream intake to a half-scoop. David’s sugary-sweet kisses more than made up for all the calories I was missing out on.

  Grudgingly, I backed away from David. “We’d better head to the kitchen. Gail and Xavier will be here pretty soon.”

  David and I went back to the kitchen and started piling snacks on the table while Sarah scooped coffee grounds into the coffee machine. Just as the coffee had finished brewing, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, already heading toward the living room.

  I opened the door. Gail stood at the doorway, her arms folded tight across her chest. Xavier slouched behind her. His eyes were red and droopy.

  “How much has he had to drink?” I asked.

  Gail shrugged. “At least two forty-ounces. Probably more.”

  Xavier puffed out his chest. “I’m not drunk. I’m liberated.”

  She shook her head. “He’s been like this ever since he showed up at my house.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Sarah’s pouring him a cup of coffee now.”

  Gail marched toward the kitchen, her arms still folded across her chest. Xavier zigzagged behind her.

  Xavier staggered into the kitchen, took one look at Sarah, and smiled. “Hey, Sarah,” he gushed. “You know, you’re really pretty. Much prettier than her.”

  “Good Lord,” Gail said. “Someone please shoot me now.”

  I took Xavier by the arm and led him to the table. “What happened?”

  “She dumped me. For another guy.”

  I wanted to explain that it was probably better for her to dump him for another guy than a girl, but I figured that point might be lost on Xavier at the current moment.

  “She said I wasn’t edgy enough. She thought I was a real writer. Like Hemingway.” Xavier smiled. “Hemingway drank a lot. I figured I’d do the same thing.”

  “Hemingway also shot himself in the head with a shotgun,” I said. “You gonna do that too?”

  Xavier scratched his chin. “Well, drinking seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Try this,” Sarah said as she placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  As Xavier hung his head over his coffee, Sarah, Gail, David, and I huddled together in the living room. Gail narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m not gonna say I told you so, but—”

  “Gail, please. You’ll have plenty of time to gloat later about how right you were and how wrong everyone else was.” I turned to David. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

  “But I don’t know what to say,” he whispered back.

  “Haven’t you ever consoled a guy when he got dumped?”

  “Of course not. Real guys don’t get all teary-eyed over some girl dropping them. They just move on to the next girl.”

  Sarah, Gail, and I crossed our arms and stared at David.

  He shrugged. “What? It’s the truth.”

  “Will you just go and say something to him?” I said. “Before I drop you.”

  We all headed back to the kitchen. Xavier’s face was immersed in steam from the coffee. “Hey man, sorry to hear about the girlfriend.” David patted Xavier on the shoulder. “But you’re probably better off without her.”

  Xavier replied, but his words were too slurred for me to understand.

  “You should probably do something to get her off your mind,” he said. “You want to go play basketball or something?”

  “The last time I played basketball, I broke my ankle.”

  David frowned and looked up at us. Gail and I nodded. “Last summer,” I said.

  He turned back to Xavier. “Well, do you play video games? I’ve got the lastest—”

  “I’m not really that good with video games.” He took a quick sip of coffee. “My parents thought my time would be better spent reading.”

  David sighed. “Well, what do you want to do?”

  Xavier looked up. “I wanna get laid.”

  David removed his hand from Xavier’s shoulder. “Sorry, but I can’t help you out with that one.” He shuffled back to us. “That’s all I got. You’re on your own.” He leaned over to peck me on the cheek. “Maybe I should go to Johnnie’s house.”

  “Can I go with you?” Gail as
ked.

  “None of you are going anywhere,” I said. “Xavier’s really depressed right now. We need to help him.”

  Gail shook her head. “I can’t deal with all of this whining. It isn’t logical.”

  “Of course it isn’t logical,” Sarah said. “He was in love.”

  Gail huffed. “Not this love crap again.”

  Sarah crossed her arms. “I’m sorry Gail, but it is possible for a high school student to fall in love.” She nodded toward Xavier. “Let me try to talk to him.”

  Sarah walked to the table and sat beside Xavier. He immediately smiled again. “Xavier, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re too good to be dating a girl like Michelle.”

  “But—”

  “How many times did you take her out?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t know.” He drank more of his coffee. “Maybe six times over the past few months.”

  “Did she ever offer to pay when y’all went to the movies?”

  He shook his head.

  “What about when y’all went to dinner? Did she pay then?”

  Again, he shook his head.

  “I’m no economist, but the way it sounds, you spent a lot of money,” she said. “And it sounds like you didn’t get a good return on your investment.”

  “I did spend a lot of money on her. I even bought us tickets to our prom.” He sat up a little. “I guess you wouldn’t be interested in going to the prom, would you?”

  “Thanks for the offer, sweetie, but I don’t think they sell prom dresses in the maternity section of Macy’s.” Sarah looked at Gail. “But I’m sure Gail will go with you.”

  Gail started toward the table, her hands balled into fists. “I most certainly will not—”

  “It’s not like her boyfriend would be around to go with her anyway,” Sarah continued. “And Gail is a good friend.”

  Xavier beamed at Gail. “She’s a great friend,” he said. “She only cursed at me once on the way over here.”

  Gail sighed and loosened her hands. “Okay, I’ll go with you, but we are not wearing matching colors.”

  David laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “So now what?”

  I leaned into my boyfriend. I didn’t know which was better—the sound of his voice or the feel of his hands on me. “We hang out and watch a few movies while we wait for Xavier to throw up,” I replied.

  Xavier staggered to his feet. “Really, guys, I don’t feel that bad.” Then a hiccup exploded from his mouth, and he slouched back down into his seat. “Rhonda, why didn’t you ever tell me drinking felt so good?”

  I headed to the counter to pour Xavier another cup of coffee. “I promise you, it doesn’t feel nearly as good when you’re kneeling face first in front of a toilet.”

  David ventured closer to Xavier. “Do you still feel tipsy?”

  “Of course he does,” Gail answered. “Xavier gets tipsy from drinking cough syrup.”

  I placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. “Is the coffee helping?”

  “I don’t think so. If anything, I’m still as drunk, but now I’m hyper as well.” He motioned for me to move closer to him. “And I have to pee,” he whispered before erupting into a fit of laughter. Then suddenly, he jumped up and put his hand to his mouth.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he said before running off down the hallway.

  I just shook my head. Maybe it wasn’t too late for all of us to go to Johnnie’s house.

  Sure enough, Xavier spent most of the night throwing up. While he spent the rest of the night curled into a ball on the bathroom floor, the rest of us played cards and watched movies. And while I wasn’t 100 percent sure, I think I noticed Gail smiling during the evening, if only for a few seconds.

  After Xavier finally emerged from the bathroom, we poured a bottle of mouthwash down his throat and got him ready to take home. I walked Gail and Xavier to her car while David and Sarah figured out how to best sanitize their bathroom.

  “Thanks for everything,” Gail said after we pushed Xavier into the car. “I don’t know what I would have done with Xavier without you.”

  “Don’t forget Sarah.”

  Gail paused. “Yeah, I guess she isn’t that bad.”

  Did Gail just compliment Sarah? Maybe she was the one who was drunk.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Gail said. “She did get Xavier to stop whining, even though now I’ve got to go to prom with him.”

  Xavier stretched out across Gail’s back seat and placed his hands over his ears. “Why are you guys yelling?” he moaned.

  Gail slammed her door shut, which made Xavier writhe in even more agony. “That’s what you get for getting drunk.”

  I shook my head. Gail was as firm a believer in tough-love as I had ever seen. “Well, I’d better get out of here,” I said as I lifted my sleeve to look at my watch. “I don’t want to miss my—Shit!”

  “What?”

  I yanked my keys out of my pocket. “It’s ten minutes to midnight.”

  “So?”

  “Some of us have a curfew, remember? I’m gonna be late.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. You’re screwed,” she said. “Maybe it’ll help if you tell your father about Xavier getting drunk.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Knowing him, that’ll just make things worse.” I jogged toward my car. “Do me a favor and tell David why I had to leave.”

  She nodded, and I jumped into my car. Two seconds later, I was peeling out of the driveway.

  I watched as my speedometer jumped to twenty miles over the speed limit. I was only going to be a few minutes late. Maybe he wouldn’t be awake. Maybe my watch was running fast.

  I zoomed past a stop sign. Maybe he was with Jackie. Maybe he was out on another of his all-night dates.

  I pulled into the driveway and leapt out of the car. As I dashed toward the house, I glanced at my watch again. Only ten minutes late. Surely, even he couldn’t get mad for something like that.

  I swung open the door, and there Dad stood. He looked down at his watch, and then glared at me. “You’re late.”

  I meekly smiled at him. “Only by a few minutes.”

  Dad didn’t smile back. “Rhonda, how am I supposed to trust you when you can’t even follow simple directions? It’s things like this that remind me why I’m glad you didn’t get that scholarship from Georgia Tech. Obviously, you’re not responsible enough to live away from home just yet.”

  Leave it to Dad to find a way to put an exclamation point on an already crappy evening.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry I was late.”

  “Sorry just isn’t good enough,” he snapped. “You’re grounded.”

  I knew there was no point in arguing with him. He was right. He was always right.

  “For how long?”

  He rubbed his chin for a few moments. “One month,” he finally said.

  My mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious! This is the first time I’ve broken curfew in years.” I shook my head. “Talk about unfair. You get to stay out all night with Jackie, and I’m getting grounded for being ten minutes late!”

  “I’m an adult. You’re not.” He crossed his arms and peered down at me. “Where did you go tonight?”

  “I spent the entire night at Sarah’s house. We were just watching TV and playing cards.”

  “Was her mother there?”

  “No,” I mumbled.

  His eyes widened. “You were there alone with that boy?”

  “Of course not. Sarah, Gail, and Xavier were there as well.”

  Dad didn’t say anything for a few moments. He popped his knuckles a few times, all the while keeping his gaze glued to the ground.

  “You’re having sex again, aren’t you?”


  “What? Of course not!”

  Even though I was screaming like a lunatic, Dad was able to keep his voice low and steady. “Rhonda, don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying!”

  My father could be such an asshole sometimes. It wasn’t the words that Dad said, it was the way he said them. Like it was already a matter of fact. He wasn’t asking—he was telling me what he already knew. He was always right, even when he was wrong.

  Dad shook his head. “You know what, I don’t even want to know what happened between you and that boy.”

  I felt like I was going to explode. “His name is David!”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t care what his name is. All I know is, come Monday morning, we’re putting you on birth control.”

  “Dad!”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Rhonda. I can’t stop you from having sex, but I’ll be damned if you get pregnant again.”

  I wagged my finger at him. “Dad, you can’t control me like that. You have no right to say what I am and what I’m not going to do.”

  “I’m your father. I can do anything I damn well please to protect my child.”

  “I’m not a child anymore.”

  “You said the same thing three years ago. Look where that got you.”

  I slammed my hand on the table. “God, I hate you!” It was an immature thing to say, but I couldn’t think of anything else to yell at him.

  Dad looked like he didn’t care whether I loved him or hated him at that point. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t up for discussion.”

  I pushed past him as my eyes started to water. “Wait here. I need to show you something.”

  I stormed into my room, yanked open my top dresser drawer, and grabbed my package of birth control pills. They had been in the same place, under my pajamas, that I had hid them since my freshman year.

  I ran back to the kitchen and flung the package of pills at Dad. I aimed for his face. Unfortunately, it bounced off his chest and fell to the floor.

  “As you can see, there’s nothing to discuss,” I said, my voice breaking. “You don’t have to put me on the pill, because I’m already on it.”

  Dad knelt down to pick up the package. “How long … ?”

  “Three years,” I said. “Ever since the abortion, I’ve been too afraid to have sex, but I’m still on the goddamn pill.”

 

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