by LN Cronk
Fortunately, things got less awkward one day at lunch.
“Tanner asked me to the prom,” Laci said. Sam and I had different lunch periods so I still ate with Laci and Greg almost every day.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Are you going?” Greg asked her.
She nodded again.
“That’s fantastic!” I said, grinning. If she liked Tanner I could quit worrying about hurting her feelings and concentrate on Sam.
“Why are you so happy?” she asked.
“Because,” I said. “Tanner’s one of my best friends . . . you’re one of my best friends . . . I think it’d be great if you two were a couple.”
“I didn’t say we were a couple!” she protested. “I just said we’re going to the prom together. We’re friends.”
“Right!” I nodded. But when I saw Tanner and Laci walking down the hall together and laughing the next day, I didn’t bother dropping Sam’s hand.
Greg, on the other hand, didn’t seem as pleased. He cornered me after physics class the next week.
“Did I see Sam walking down the hall wearing my jacket?” he asked.
“My jacket,” I corrected him.
“I didn’t buy it for her, you know!”
“I bet you wouldn’t care if Laci was wearing it!” I said.
“Probably not,” he admitted, “but that’s just because Laci’s the one.”
“Oh, stop saying that and stop telling me that Sam and I are so far apart.” He’d been giving me the telescope signal every chance he got.
“You were wrong,” I said, “okay? Laci’s not the one. She’s going to the prom with Tanner . . . I’m going to the prom with Sam . . . you were wrong! Why don’t you worry about finding yourself a date for the prom?”
“I already have a date for the prom, thank you very much.”
“You’re kidding! Who’d want to go to the prom with a long-haired, hippie-freak like you?”
“Natalie . . .”
“Really?”
“Yup,” he said.
“Well, good,” I replied, nodding my approval and patting him on the shoulder. “Now why don’t you go find Natalie and quit worrying about me and Sam and your jacket, okay?”
“Nope. Can’t do it,” he said, holding up his telescope. “Laci’s the one.”
Sam and I only had one fight, and I’m not really sure that it even qualified as a fight. On a day that I knew Laci wasn’t working, Sam and I had gone to Kennedy’s to rent my tux. We were looking through a catalogue to find a tie and vest that would match her dress. She called it champagne, but it just looked gold to me.
“Oh my God!!” she said, pointing at one of the pictures. “That would look so good on you!”
“I wish you’d quit saying that,” I told her.
“Saying what?”
“Oh my God!”
She looked at me. “Why?”
“Because,” I said, “it’s taking the Lord’s name in vain . . . you know . . . one of the top ten things you’re not supposed to do?!”
“No it’s not,” she said.
“Yes it is,” I argued.
“No,” she said. “Taking the Lord’s name in vain is when you say ‘Oh, Jesus Christ’ or ‘G.D.’ or something like that.”
I shook my head. “You shouldn’t say ‘Oh my God!’ either.”
She looked at me for a moment – I think to see if I was serious – and she must have decided that I was.
“Good Lord,” she said, rolling her eyes at me, and then she walked away to get another catalogue.
Prom night came and I picked Sam up at her house. Her mother let me in and called Sam. She came down the stairs in her champagne dress looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. Her hair was curled in loose ringlets and they cascaded all around her shoulders.
“Your hair looks fantastic,” I said. She smiled at me.
“Thank you. I hope you won’t be disappointed on Monday when it’s straight again. This is too much work for every day.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Straight’s good too.”
I pinned her corsage on, we posed so her parents could take a bunch of pictures, and then we got in my car.
“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked.
“It’s still a surprise,” I told her. I was taking her to Chez Condrez, the restaurant Jessica had picked for her sixteenth birthday.
When the escargot arrived she wrinkled up her nose.
“I didn’t know they would still be in their little shells,” she said. “They look so cute.”
I hadn’t known they’d be in their little shells either, but I also didn’t know if I would have described them as cute. Gross, maybe, but not cute.
“We’ve got to eat them,” I said. “They cost fifteen dollars!”
“You first,” she insisted, spearing one on a fork and holding it in front of my mouth. I figured that since I’d eaten broiled octopus, I could eat a snail. I opened my mouth and took it off the fork, chewing only once and then swallowing. It was a lot spicier than I’d been expecting.
“It’s not bad,” I said, getting one for her. “Your turn.”
“Promise it’s not bad?”
“I promise.”
She gathered up all her hair in one hand and held it to one side of her head as if it were in a ponytail. She opened her mouth and took the escargot, chewing it thoughtfully. I looked at the bundle of hair hanging from her hand and all of a sudden I wondered how many inches long it was and how a little girl would look with a wig made from that hair.
“David?” she was saying. “David, did you hear me?”
I blinked and looked back at her face.
“What?”
“I said you were right . . . it isn’t bad,” she said. “What were you thinking about just then?”
“Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “Just your hair. I was just thinking how much I like your hair.”
By the time we arrived at the prom, most of the tables were taken and the dance floor was full. We finally found two seats and had just sat down when a slow song started and Sam grabbed my hand.
“Oh my God!” she said, tugging me toward the floor. “I love this song . . . come on!”
As I held her close, I suddenly appreciated that I had achieved the goal I’d set for myself in Life Skills on the first day of the school year.
I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam. I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam.
I’d done exactly what I’d promised myself I would do and I had what I’d told myself I wanted . . .
The funny thing was that I wasn’t as happy as I’d thought I’d be.
I pulled Sam closer and rested my cheek on the top of her head, smelling that suntan lotion scent that had mesmerized me at the Homecoming Dance. We continued dancing and I thought about Sam saying that she loved this song. I realized that I had never even heard it before. A vague feeling of discontentment settled over me.
What’s wrong with me? I thought. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted . . . why can’t I just enjoy it and be happy?
And then Greg’s voice answered me in my head.
Her heart’s not like yours . . .
It sounded as clear as it had on Christmas day when we’d been driving around in my new car. It sounded so clear, in fact, that I actually thought he’d said it out loud and I glanced around looking for him, thinking that he and Natalie must be dancing somewhere near us.
I couldn’t find them. I only saw Tanner . . . holding Laci against his large frame as they danced. I watched them for a long moment and then Tanner saw me looking at them and he smiled at me and nodded his head. I managed to smile and nod my head back, but I felt my discontentment grow. I turned away and rested my cheek back on Sam’s head and continued dancing.
~ ~ ~
AFTER THE PROM I found myself watching Tanner and Laci a lot. I couldn’t tell if
they were dating or if they were just the same good friends that they’d always been, but every time I saw them laughing together or saw him rest his hand on her shoulder, something inside of me would stir. I tried to deny the feeling that was smoldering inside of me, but eventually I had to admit to myself that it was envy – growing and making me angry at each of them. I started to avoid them both.
If there’d ever been a time to call me grumpy, it would have been then, but even Greg was sensitive enough not to joke about it.
Just before exam week, Sam asked me if I thought we should start seeing other people and I answered that it might be a good idea. We agreed we’d be the same kind of friends as we’d been before we started dating. That wasn’t really saying much. A few days later when I saw her holding hands with a senior, my only thought was that I was glad it was over.
I went to Florida with the White’s again at the beginning of the summer and I accused Greg of brainwashing me.
“I didn’t do anything,” Greg insisted. “All I did was tell you the truth!”
“Well, a fat lot of good it did me!” I snapped. “Now I can’t stop thinking about Laci and she’s hanging around with Tanner all the time . . .”
“Love hurts,” he smiled, shaking his head.
“I’m glad that my misery is bringing you so much enjoyment,” I said. “So is she dating Tanner . . . or are they just friends . . . or what?”
“That’s between you and Tanner and Laci,” he told me, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m minding my own business.”
“NOW?” I asked, incredulous. “NOW you’re minding your own business?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think I’ll start now.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“No problem,” he said. “Anything for a friend.”
~ ~ ~
TANNER AND MIKE had football training camp at the high school the week after we got back from Florida and I was waiting for them when their practice ended on Monday. They came out of the locker room with their hair wet and gym bags slung over their shoulders, looking surprised to see me.
“What’s up?” Mike asked.
“Nothing much,” I replied.
“How was Florida?” Tanner asked.
“Hot.”
I dangled my car keys in front of Mike’s face.
“Hey Mikey,” I said. “My car’s in the lower lot. Wanna go get it?”
“Really?” He only had a learner’s permit and wasn’t supposed to drive alone.
“One scratch, Mikey . . . one scratch and I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh relax!” he said, snatching the keys from my hand.
When he was gone I turned to Tanner.
“I wanted to talk to you for a second.”
“About Laci?” he asked.
My mouth dropped open.
“I wondered what was taking you so long,” he went on. “You wanna know what’s going on between us, don’t you?”
I nodded dumbly at him.
“That’s what I figured.”
But then he didn’t say anything further; he just stared at me. Finally I broke the silence.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” he asked and I realized he wasn’t going to make this easy on me.
“What’s going on between you and Laci?”
He looked at me for a moment and then gazed up at the ceiling as if he were studying it. Finally he rubbed his chin and in a Southern drawl he began.
“Well, I’m figurin’ after high school we’ll be gettin’ married and have us a passel of young ’uns. Maybe get us a basset hound . . . name it Toby . . .”
“Come on, Tanner. Be serious.”
“Why?” he smiled. “You’re so fun to pick on.”
“Because,” I said, not seeing the humor. “I came here as a friend and I’m asking you as a friend. What’s going on?”
“Man, nothing’s going on.”
“Are you sure? I need to know that you aren’t serious about her.”
“Even if I was serious about her, it wouldn’t matter . . .”
“Yes it would!”
“Greg’s right. You really are dense – you know that?”
“I’m dense?” I asked. “Then why don’t you explain it to me? Spell it out in plain English.”
“Okay,” he said, putting a hand on each of my shoulders and looking into my eyes. “Listen to me care-ful-ly. I’m going to speak very slow-ly so maybe you can un-der-stand. No one knows why . . . it certainly isn’t your good looks or your bubbly personality, but – for whatever reason – Laci likes you.
“Now Laci’s not the type to sit at home and cry while she waits for you to come to your senses – she is going to go out with other guys and have fun. But for some reason – I don’t know why and trust me, I’ve tried to figure it out – for some reason, no other guy is going to have a real shot at Laci, because she likes you.”
Before I could answer, Mike came bursting through the door and slid to a stop in front of us. His hair was tousled and his eyes wild.
“Oh, man, David! I’m sorry! It was an accident. I’m so sorry!”
I clapped my hands over my eyes. My car. He’d wrecked my car. My parents were going to ground me forever.
I took a deep breath. It’s just a car, I told myself. Nothing that can’t be replaced. Mike’s okay, that’s all that matters . . .
“What happened?” I asked quietly, holding my breath and peeking out between my fingers. He was grinning at me.
“Nothing.” He turned to Tanner. “He’s so easy, you know that? It’s not even a challenge anymore.”
“It never really was,” Tanner said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “See, Davey? I told you you’re fun to pick on.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief . . . not just about the car. We walked through the door together and I shook my head. “I really hate you both, you know that, right?”
“Yep,” Mike said.
“We know,” Tanner agreed.
Now all I had to do was talk to Laci.
~ ~ ~
I MOPED AROUND for the next couple of weeks. By the time summer was almost halfway over all I’d managed to do was to avoid Laci.
“Why don’t you go over there and talk to her?” Greg asked one day. I was sitting in my lifeguard chair watching Laci as she and Ashlyn spread towels on their lounge chairs.
“Because I’m working.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll cover for you.”
“No thanks,” I answered. “I don’t need a lawsuit right now.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t let more than a couple of people drown.”
“No thanks,” I said again. “I’m good.”
“You can’t put it off forever,” he persisted.
“Wanna bet?”
“You’re a piece of work,” he said. “You know that?”
“I know.”
“Why don’t you just talk to her?” he asked. “It’s Laci! You’ve been talking to her your whole life!”
“I don’t know what to say . . . I don’t know what to do!”
“Well,” he said, “what’d you do with Sam?”
“It was different with Sam.”
“But at some point you actually decided to make a move or something . . . how’d you make yourself do it?”
I thought back to the first day of Life Skills before answering.
“I decided exactly what I wanted to have happen and then I made a list of things that would help me get there. Then I made myself do those things.”
“So why don’t you do that again?” he asked.
I looked at him uncertainly, but finally answered. “I guess I could try.”
I hardly ever used my desk in the summer and it was cluttered with stuff. That night I removed everything and threw it onto my bed and I took out a clean sheet of paper and a pencil. I sat there for a long time trying to remember my Life Skills teacher’s instructions about writing goals in a posit
ive way and putting them in the present tense.
I finally gave up and just wrote her name at the top of my paper in large, capital letters.
LACI.
I traced the letters over and over again with my pencil until they were dark. Then I wrote a number one underneath it and beside that I wrote:
Talk to Laci.
I sighed. There really wasn’t anything left to do. I picked up my phone and called her.
“Hi, David!” she answered.
“Hi,” I replied. “What are you doing?”
“Babysitting Charlotte,” she said. “Greg’s working and Mr. and Mrs. White went out to see a movie.”
That would have been a good segue . . . I could have just asked her if she wanted to go see a movie sometime, but instead I asked her if she’d driven or walked to Greg’s house.
“I walked,” she said.
“What time will they be home?”
“About nine-thirty.”
“Is it okay if I meet you there and walk you home?”
There was a slight pause and then she answered, “Sure, that’d be good.”
“See you then.”
“Bye,” she replied.
I looked at my watch . . . it was seven-thirty.
Two more hours.
I put my head on my desk and sighed, wondering what I’d just done.
I got there at nine o’clock and sat on the front steps. I had started to ring the bell but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead I studied the thick hedges by the door that I had hidden behind when Greg and I’d had snowball fights and the white doorbell that I had helped Charlotte ring when she was little and the concrete planter that I’d chipped with a baseball when I was thirteen. I tried to forget why I was there.
Greg’s parents showed up just after nine-thirty, surprised to see me.
“Hi, David,” Mr. White said. “Are you waiting for Greg? I don’t think he gets off work until ten.”
“Um, no,” I said, “I was just waiting for Laci. I’m going to walk her home.”
“Oh,” he said. He looked puzzled, but I saw the faintest smile cross Mrs. White’s lips.
They went past me and a few minutes later Laci came out. I stood up.