by Kevin Craig
“Um.”
“You’ll have to excuse Ezra,” Nettie says. She kicks me not so subtly under the table and I jump. “He’s not used to being around actual people. Simon, Ezra. Ezra, Simon.” She turns to me. “Now say nice to meet you, Simon.”
“Nice to meet you, Simon.”
“If this is a bad time, I can walk away. Just say the word.”
“No, no,” I say. “Sorry. I’m just in another place right now.”
“I’d love to go there with you.”
“My name is Nettie,” Nettie says to nobody in particular. “Nice to meet you, Nettie.”
“Oh my god,” Simon says. He knocks himself in the temple. “I’m sorry, Nettie. Of course, nice to meet you too. I wasn’t thinking. I saw Ezra here, and I just knew I had to come and say hi to him.”
Nettie is all smiles and lightness now. For many reasons. I look at her and I can see those brain wheels turning. She’s thrilled that this guy has come over to talk to me. Especially now. She thinks it’s going to make me forget about Will and everything.
I smile at her. She’s trying. I shouldn’t kick my champion, right. Where would I be without her? Then I turn back to Simon, and, for the first time, I really look at him.
“Hello,” I say, with more sincerity this time. He’s towering over us. I know we’re both sitting and he’s standing but he must be at least six foot three, maybe taller. I think he’s even taller than Alex. His dark hair is shaved close on the sides, with short tight curls on top. And he’s wearing this utterly goofy grin, like he just wants me to like him. “What did you say back there?”
“Ha ha.” His laughter. Suddenly, I just want to make him laugh more. Just to hear more of it. “I said I’d love to go there with you.”
“Where?” I ask. They exchange looks, roll their eyes and shake their heads.
“You really are out of it…Ezra. I love that name.”
“You said you’re in another place, Ezra,” Nettie explains slowly, as though she’s talking to a three year old. “And Simon here said he’d love to go there with you. Hello?”
“No, no,” I say. “I’m here. Sorry. All caught up. Sorry, Simon. I was busy pouting.”
“Looks like hard work,” he says. “Mind if I sit down?”
“No, go ahead.”
“Um,” Nettie says. “I’m just going to go to the washroom. I’ll be right back.”
She practically tiptoes away. I see her retreating in my peripheral vision and I half-wave her off.
“So, you don’t go to Nelson High, do you? You just visiting someone for the weekend?”
“Nah.” He’s sitting beside me now and leaning toward me. He runs a hand over the top of his head. He looks a bit like a runner, all sinewy and restless. If you can even tell that about someone by looking at them. “Nelson, born and raised. I go to the Catholic school.”
He says this with a hefty serving of guilt. Like it would be shameful to go to St. Augustine.
“That’s cool,” I say. Hello, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Mr. Lame. Gah.
“Not really,” he says. And he laughs. And there’s that feeling again. “I’ve seen you around here and there. I kept meaning to say hi, but I couldn’t work up the courage.”
He smiles and we just sit here in silence for a bit. But the thing is, there is absolutely nothing awkward about this silence. I love this silence.
“Courage? To talk to me?” It’s my turn to laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, well.” He buries his face in his hands. When he looks up at me again, he’s squirming. “I kind of like you, Ezra. I almost always blow it when I like someone. I either accidentally stalk them and become the creeper guy, or I run so fast in the other direction that I never see them again.”
“So, I’m guessing you’ve been stalking me then?” I ask.
“Oops,” he says with a smirk. “Well, not really. But sort of. I figured I would change my modus operandi. So I haven’t been looking inside your bedroom window or stealing your underwear while you’re in gym class. Or anything like that.”
Now the silence is awkward. But just for a second before we both burst into laughter.
“Hey guys,” Nettie says as she returns to the table. “Ezra, I was thinking. I have so much homework to catch up on. And, technically, this was just a sympathetic mercy mission on my part, anyway. Maybe I should just skip this movie. What do you think?”
“Mercy mission? Gee thanks. But we got the tickets! Nettie. You can’t bail on me. It was your idea.”
She stomps her feet and gives me the Evil Nettie Eye. This can mean one of two things, either that I’m stupid or that she’s about to kill me. Sometimes both.
“Doofus,” she says. She rolls her eyes at me, like they may just fall out of her head.
“I think I can save this.” Simon gets up and stands in front of Nettie. I look on, feeling completely lost now. “Nettie. Thank you. I appreciate the offer and I would love to buy your ticket from you and join Ezra to see the movie.”
She hands him the tickets. “My treat, Simon. I was going to treat Mr. Sourpuss there, anyway, but it seems he’s already taken a turn for the better.”
She smiles at me. I get up and actually hug her. It took me a while to clue in, but now that I have I’m so thankful I could kiss a girl. So I kiss her left cheek and then her right.
“Thank you, sweetie,” I say. “Sorry I’m so thick. I get it now.”
“I’m so proud,” she says to me. To Simon she says, “Our baby is growing up big and strong. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to let him walk to school all by himself.”
Simon laughs that pretty laugh and I die. Oh God, I hope this is a sign that I like him and not that I’m just the most fickle person in the universe.
“Nice to meet you, Nettie,” Simon says. He leans in and gives her a sweet little we-just-met hug. His face is beaming. “Thanks so much for the movie.”
“You’re welcome, you,” she says. “No, thank you. You’ve made grumpy pants not so grumpy. You might have saved his life, because I was getting ready to kill him.”
She straightens up and prepares to leave. Before she does, she puts a hand on my face and looks me in the eye. “Be present, grasshopper. I’m only going to tell you once. Someone is interested in you. Don’t blow it by worrying about that creature Will. That’ll be what it is. Okay?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Okay, Ezra?” She’s only taking okay for an answer.
“Okay, Nettie. Hey,” I say after she pats my cheek and turns to go. She starts walking and I call out after her, “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Have fun, boys,” she says without turning back around. She waves over her shoulder and disappears through the double doors that lead to the parking lot.
Only then do I turn back to face Simon, who is absolutely gorgeous. Did I mention that?
“I guess we have some time to kill,” he says with a guilty smile. “Wanna take a walk?”
“I would love that,” I say. He puts his hand out to usher me forward. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. I’m so glad I said hello. I almost never say hello.”
“I’m glad too, Simon.”
We walk side by side toward the exit Nettie just used and I don’t even feel awkward about our vast difference in height. I actually like it. If the electricity running through my body at this very moment could be harnessed, it could light up New York at night. And my heart could beat out the background soundtrack. Slow down, Ezra. It’s only a movie date. But, oh my god. He likes me.
CHAPTER 19
I’m only now aware I’ve been whistling all the way home. What a dweeb. But I don’t care. A not so great movie I hardly even noticed playing in the background, a sloppy street-meat supper afterward, followed by an ice cream at the truck down by the lake, and, a walk on the Boardwalk. You’d be whistling too. The more we did, the more I liked him.
Outwardly, I’m whistling Rise Up. My theme song. There’s no sun le
ft in the sky, since it’s almost 10:30 at night, but I am kind of dancing. Inwardly, I’m chanting a silent mantra. Simon, Simon, Simon.
“There he is.” Nettie interrupts both the whistling and the chanting, as well as my train of thought. “I wonder if he’s gonna come over here and say hi to his bestie?”
“Nettie,” I say a la Alex style. As in I screech her name like a schoolgirl. “Nettttiiiie.” I run up her front walk, arms flailing, climb the steps to her porch, and plop myself down beside her.
We take a moment, both of us luxuriating in the sheer joy of life itself.
“So,” she finally says, caving to the pressure of wanting to know the details. “Tell, Ezra. Tell.”
“I would love to. Where to begin? Where to begin?”
“How about at the point where the pretty girl feels unwanted and leaves the boys alone together to continue their private conversation in actual privacy.”
I look at her and she’s feigning being disgruntled. She jumps up, hands on hips and everything. But I give her a goofy grin and she can’t keep up the façade. She sits back down.
“Okay,” I say. “How about you hush now and I will tell you the story so far of Ezra and Simon? It’s a tale as old as time. Or should that be Simon and Ezra? What way sounds best, Net?”
“I don’t think it matters. I think his friends will say Simon and Ezra and your friends, myself included, will say Ezra and Simon.”
I stab the air in front of me with my pointing finger. “Aha. Yes. I think you may be right. Okay, so anyway, as soon as you left we went for a walk. Since you mentioned the whole Will thing, it was the first thing he asked about once we hit the sidewalk.
“So I had to tell him all about that. But he made me feel better about stuff and then we just got to know—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she interrupts. “Back up the truck, lover boy. He made you feel better? After I tried for,” she counts the days on her fingers, “Five days. Five days, Ezra. I had miserable sourpuss Ezra for five days. You take a walk with a stranger for five minutes and he heals you?”
“Okay, girlfriend,” I say. “That’s the last time you call my Simon a stranger.”
“Well, excuuuuse me.” We both giggle.
“D’you gotta Coke?” I ask.
“Yeah, but you’re not getting it until you tell me more.” She crosses her legs and settles in for the rest of the scoop.
“We went to the movie after our walk. I don’t remember the movie. I was preoccupied. As the trailers were playing, he reached over and put his hand on my knee. I sat there in the near-dark and watched it slowly make its way to my hand. Then, by the opening credits, we were full-on holding hands. His hands are huge, by the way. Why am I so tiny?”
“Oh my God.”
“Right?! And he didn’t let go until the closing credits. I just sat there like a yahoo thinking, oh my god, I’m holding his hand, I’m holding his hand.”
“You are, like, the most sweetest thing in the universe, aren’t you?” She kisses the side of my face and scooches in closer.
“Yeah, yeah. You only have Alex to compare me to, so I’m not a hundred percent flattered by that. Alex is, hmmm…how shall I put this? A slut.”
She slaps my arm. “Ezra!”
“What? You know it’s true, too. So, after the movie I thought we were just going to go our separate ways, maybe exchange digits. But Simon was like, ‘No, this is just the beginning of our day.’ I was giddy with excitement.
“The movie’s over and he tells me our day’s just beginning. Next thing I know, he’s taking me to this candy apple red convertible Mustang in the parking lot. And the top is already down. Okay, so you caught that it was a convertible right? Are you with me?”
“Yep. Convertible. Gotcha. Top down. Gotcha. Miss the significance, though.”
“It’s coming. Simon walked me to the passenger side door and opened it for me.”
“Whoa.” It’s all she says.
“Do you think he has a Justice Smith thing going on?” I say. “I mean, that smile. It goes on forever. And, I don’t know, there’s this slight geek thing happening.”
“Who’s Justice—”
“Radar. Paper Towns. Keep up. We just watched that movie.”
“You’re obsessed.”
“Anyway, he drove us to the Waterfront. We had hot dogs for supper. From that cart at the mouth of Crescent Park. The one with the Italian guy with the arms. And all the sloppy toppings the other guys don’t have. The good one. Then we went to the ice cream truck on Lexington. The twist guy. You know the guy, the one who shoves the chocolate finger in at the top of the ice cream swirl.”
“I love that one.” She looks off into the middle distance and I imagine that all she sees is an ice cream cone.
“Hello?” I say to her, waving my hands in her face. “You in there?”
“Stop. I’m just daydreaming about ice cream. Give me a second.”
“No. This is the best part. He gave me his chocolate finger.”
“Get out,” she shouts as she pushes me almost clear off the porch.
“Ow.” I knew she would see the significance of that one. “Yep. So here I am with an ice cream cone and two chocolate fingers, walking down the street with this incredible boy. I wanted to shout, ‘I’m the king of the world.’ But I held it in. I ate my chocolate fingers.”
“Bitch,” Nettie says. “Why don’t these things ever happen to me? I want a chocolate finger prince.”
“That sounds three kinds of wrong.”
“Shut up,” she says. “What happened next?”
“There wasn’t much he could do after the chocolate finger to make the day any better. Let’s face it. That should be listed somewhere as the epitome of romantic gestures. In fact, remind me to look up romantic gesture in the dictionary. I’m sure I’ll find a chocolate finger there.”
I see the look she’s giving me and decide it will probably be best to continue.
“We walked the Boardwalk. The entire length of the Boardwalk. And, you know that part where it turns into the woods? Just past that shed where they keep the volleyball nets during the winter?”
She nodded.
“He held my hand during that stretch. And people passed by and everything. It was the best thing in the world. I’m in love. I’m going to die.”
“Ezra. That’s the sweetest thing ever. I knew it. Didn’t I call it? I was out of there as soon as I saw the way he looked at you.”
“Did I mention he drives a convertible?” I say, nestling in beside her. “It’s his dad’s, of course, but still. It goes so good with his cropped hair. Not so good with mine. It was blowing all over the place. But I didn’t mind. After our walk on the Boardwalk, we just drove around with the top down and I felt so alive. He drove with one hand. So he could hold my hand with his other hand.”
Okay, don’t judge me, but I might have tears in my eyes. What? It’s not like they’re running down my face or anything. They’re just there in the corners. Pooling.
“And then,” I continue. I kind of shrug. “Well, then reality kind of came crashing down and he had to let me out of the car two blocks away so my father wouldn’t see us and murder him or murder me or murder us both.”
We sit in silence, feeling the weight of that reality for a moment.
“Oh, baby,” she says. She rubs my arm, trying to soothe me.
“No, no. It’s okay. Really. It is what it is. But here comes the best part.”
“Oh, sweetie, no,” she says, laughing now. “You already told me the best part. It doesn’t get better than chocolate fingers, silly.”
“Before we said goodbye, he reached over,” I say. I draw it out for the suspense factor. I may have actually learned a thing or two from Alex the storyteller. “And. Drumroll, please. He kissed me.”
“I knew that’s what you were going to say. Prince Charming wouldn’t give you such a perfect day without sealing it with a kiss.”
We hug each other, and the
night comes alive with our giggles and laughter. We even drown out the hum of crickets and other bugs making a racket in the garden that wraps around her porch.
“On the lips,” I say after a few minutes.
“Not sure you had to add that part.”
“Okay,” I say. “Fair enough. But at the end, there might have been a slight tiny tiny bit of tongue involved.”
“Ew.” She punches my shoulder and we burst into laughter yet again. “TMI, Ezra Caine, TMI.”
CHAPTER 20
With the weekend over, I am forced to face reality again. School. Without Simon. I didn’t see him on Sunday. It sure didn’t feel like I didn’t see him. Not at all. Because it totally feels like we spent the day together. We texted throughout the day. We even face-timed when I knew my parents were out of the house with the boys, gone grocery shopping, and I knew there was no way I’d get caught.
He looks great on a laptop screen, too, by the way.
But now, school. Is it okay to hate someone’s parents—and grandparents—for choosing at some point in history to become Catholics? I mean, they are keeping me away from him, right? At some point they made a selfish decision. And now I have to live with its consequences. I know, I know…I think too much.
We’re having a club meeting after school. Our first real open-door meeting. Today, we’ll see how well it went over. This is going to make or break Alex, I just know it. I need there to be a crowd. If nobody shows up, not even I would be able to deal with that degree of furious, angry, whiny, mopey, sad, defeated Alex. It would be World War Three.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Alex says. He’s picking at his cardboard pizza, I’m picking at my salad, and, Nettie’s picking at her fruit cocktail. I look over at Marc. He’s devouring his homemade Montreal smoked-meat sandwich. He’s like a rabid animal tearing into it, like he’s never eaten before. Someone isn’t worried about the meeting.
“Don’t sweat it, Alex,” Marc says between chews. Ew. I never noticed before that he talks with his mouth full. Not one of my favourite things about Marc. I mean, ew. “It’s gonna be fine.”