After the Moment

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After the Moment Page 11

by Garret Freymann-Weyr


  Very soon.

  "Was it, you know ... did you, how did you..." Preston stammered around, finally asking, "How did you get her to like you?"

  "Maia?" Leigh asked, just to be clear, as clouds of confusion about how to tell Astra swirled across his brain. "You know, I'm not sure. I never really understand girls."

  This was in fact true, although he did secretly feel that he understood Maia better than anyone in the world.

  "Girls are strange," Preston said, and then, "Hey, no one at table nine has water."

  They are strange, Leigh thought, looking over at his own tables and grabbing a water pitcher. But Maia had made him think of strange as something marvelous.

  chapter sixteen

  blue blazers

  On the first day of school, Leigh waited for Millie to find her pencils, locate her shoes, and run back into the house to kiss Bubbles goodbye. The dog, his sister told him, would be lonely now that everyone would be away again during the day.

  "Eighth grade was fun," Leigh said, thinking that Seth Davis probably called Millie at the start of each school year.

  Maybe they compared notes about how each was preparing. Seth usually taught summer school, but September might have felt like a fresh start all the same.

  " 'Fun' is a vague description," Millie said.

  "It is," Leigh said. "Subjective too."

  They stopped to pick up Franklin because Millie said Kevin had refused to drive his brother to school.

  "Refused or couldn't?" Leigh asked, but Millie only shrugged.

  Pulling up in front of the Staines house, Leigh saw Franklin running off the porch, dressed in his usual khaki shorts and dress shirt, but also a blue blazer that looked as if he had stolen it from his father's closet. Leigh hoped that Mr. or Mrs. Staines would get around to buying Franklin some clothes that fit him. It was as if they were waiting for him to have a growth spurt. Instead of a messenger bag or backpack, he was carrying a briefcase.

  "Interesting bag," Leigh said as Franklin got into the back seat.

  "Thank you," Franklin said.

  "His grandfather gave it to him for sheet music," Millie said.

  "It has a multitude of purposes," Franklin said. "And here's the American heiress."

  Millie had told Franklin about the romance she was writing, as Leigh discovered when Franklin started calling him the duke's dark son. Millie got out of the car so Maia could sit in the front.

  Maia kissed Leigh, turned toward Franklin and Millie, and asked, "So are we ready for hell on earth?"

  "We are," they both said.

  Leigh looked in his rearview mirror. "Mill, I thought you liked school."

  "I do," Millie said. "I love school, but everyone's going to be all 'How are you?' thinking that means they've been understanding."

  "And I'll get hit or something today," Franklin said. "But school is my favorite thing in the world."

  "Which is why he'll get hit or something," Maia said.

  "No one is going to hit you, Franklin," Leigh said. "I promise."

  "But I'll have a worse day than you," Maia said, and Franklin smiled at her. "Way worse."

  Leigh thought he knew why she was dreading school. She had told him that though she wasn't any kind of social pariah at school, she wasn't very popular.

  "You're dating outside of your pool," she had said. "The soccer star, straight-A boy is slumming."

  This was insulting (unfair and inaccurate) on so many levels that he just stared at her.

  "You won't gain anything by being around me," Maia had added. "I'm just trying to warn you."

  "Consider me warned," Leigh had said, trying to make it funny.

  She was worried about something that was real for her but which he couldn't see as serious. While aware that popularity was an issue, he hadn't ever really thought about it. He supposed that social standing in high school was something that preoccupied kids who didn't have it or who had it and were invested in keeping others from having it.

  Leigh mostly liked school, had always had the friends he wanted, and felt that what was wrong with him was his own doing. He knew that not having to think about his popularity was a little like living in a country at war and not having to worry about fighting in it. Unfair, no doubt, but also, short of enlisting or purposely becoming an outcast, a little beyond his control.

  "We're all going to have a good day," he said, although the floating fears building up in his car were beginning to make him nervous.

  "Sure we are," Maia said.

  He hoped he would be smart enough to figure out what about school made her unhappy. Because then maybe he could fix it.

  ~~~

  At the school, Millie gave him directions to student parking, where Preston was leaning against his mother's van.

  "Franklin, how was your summer?" Preston asked after hugging Millie and saying Morning to Leigh and Maia. "Did you play a lot of piano?"

  "I did. Thank you for asking," Franklin said.

  Preston told Leigh that at Calvert Park Prep, all the new students got a guide, as a kind of mentor.

  "It's usually someone a couple of grades ahead, but since you're a senior, another senior's all they could come up with," Preston said. "And you got stuck with me because they know I know you already."

  "How do they know that?" Leigh asked, wondering who had been reporting on him.

  "You've met the headmaster at the club," Preston said. "The guy who wears his tie tucked in his pocket?"

  "Chicken salad on toast?" Leigh asked, and Preston nodded.

  Leigh remembered the tie wearer as drinking lots of iced tea but always asking that there be no ice in his water. He was a good tipper and said Thank you, young man as if he meant it.

  They all headed toward the main building, where everyone had to pick up schedules and get first-period assignments.

  "First period's like study hall," Maia said. "And that teacher is kind of your advisor. They're called firsters."

  "Or your jailer," Millie said.

  "Your firster is the person you go to see when you're in trouble," Franklin said. "Before the headmaster gets involved."

  "Kevin almost got thrown out last year," Millie whispered. "His firster was Mr. Wynne, who's really strict."

  "He's not strict," Franklin said. "Kevin violated the honor code."

  "He wrote Jonathan Kimber's history term paper," Maia said.

  "Jonathan Kimber is on the lacrosse team," Millie said, which Leigh already knew from Preston. "He's mostly nice, but he doesn't do so well at school."

  "Kevin allegedly wrote that paper," Preston said. "But it didn't happen. Your brother's a good guy, Franklin. Wynne was just gunning for him."

  Leigh saw Kevin on the wide front steps. He was standing with a couple of guys and a girl whose curvy body and blonde hair made her boringly pretty.

  "Hey," Leigh said to Kevin, hearing Preston exchange greetings with the other guys. The girl told Maia that she liked her dress, it looked so comfortable.

  And then, more quickly than he could follow:

  "Hey, munchkin, you look like a freak," said one of the boys as he reached past Leigh and grabbed the loose folds of Franklin's shirt.

  The motion threw Franklin off-balance and he dropped his briefcase, which Leigh bent to pick up, while at the same time smacking the guy's retreating arm.

  "What is your problem?"

  "My problem?" Leigh asked.

  "Yeah."

  He was shorter than Leigh, but thicker, and he was surrounded by three other guys. All of them looked kind of alike, in their khakis and dress shirts. At their feet was a pile of backpacks and blue blazers.

  Leigh, dressed almost identically to the group he was facing, felt his own backpack's weight against his shoulder. In it he had stuffed a blue blazer that Lillian and Pete had, at Janet's suggestion, bought for him. If he were simply to take one step away from Franklin and three steps forward, he would look as though he belonged with the four boys. From the corner of his eye, h
e saw Maia and Preston exchange a glance.

  Did he have a problem? Leigh could almost feel Franklin vibrating in terror. No one would want to have his shirt pulled, but surely it was the unexpectedness of it that was so insulting.

  "What is the point of assaulting a kid half your size?"

  "You think I assaulted him? You want me to show you what an assault looks like?"

  "Try it," Leigh said, pretty sure he could take the guy but a little worried about his friends.

  "Oliver," Preston called. "Let it alone."

  Oliver Lexham. Of course. Now Leigh wanted to punch him. Maia had, after much prodding, told him how Oliver Lexham had made her life a living hell. Last year, she'd gained enough weight by January not to look, as she put it, horrible and scary. Oliver Lexham had asked her out, and they dated a few times, but she had to start saying no. Oliver kept dragging her to places with crowds of kids, which made her anxious, and that made eating harder than usual. She had tried to be polite about it, but told Leigh she'd probably mucked up her words because Oliver said she just wasn't pretty enough to have so many problems.

  "He dates the most beautiful girl in school now," Maia said. "I have no idea why he bothered with me."

  Leigh, looking at Oliver Lexham, could guess why Maia had said yes and why the blonde girl was now dating him. Oliver Lexham was that guy. Guys are never supposed to notice how other guys look, but there's always the one who makes all the others say, Of course.

  Look at him—of course he has that girl. That car. That life. Marcus Fields had been an of course guy. And Oliver Lexham was one. In Leigh's experience, these guys were pretty decent to know, if only because they had no reason to be jerks. Life was good to them: math was easy, women caused them no problems, and they did not get stress fractures.

  But this one, he was a jerk. Oliver Lexham was an of course guy with a problem.

  Leigh had not known he could feel this much rage. This was worse than wanting to punch a wall. He really needed to calm down. He looked away from Oliver and saw Kevin. That didn't help. Why the hell did Kevin hang out with guys who picked on Franklin?

  "Leigh," Millie said. "The first bell is going to ring."

  "We have to get our schedules," Maia said.

  "Maia Morland," Oliver said. "How are you? You look ... okay."

  "I'm great, thanks," she said. "Leigh, come on."

  He looked from her to Franklin to Oliver.

  "Just leave the kid alone," Leigh said. "And then we have no problem."

  This was the most boring and stupid and terrifying moment of his life. And satisfying. In a way. He couldn't bring Seth Davis back to Millie, he couldn't get Josh out of prison for Maia, but he could probably protect Franklin.

  "Fine," Oliver said. "You can have your little faggot."

  And Leigh laughed, all of his thoughts and fears sliding away.

  "That's the best you got?" he asked. "You can't do any better than calling him a faggot?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry, did I insult you?" Oliver asked. "I didn't know you were one. No offense."

  "No one cares," Leigh said. "That's like the lamest insult."

  This was not actually true, as Leigh knew. Yes, at his old school, everyone was very careful to use it as a joke and never at a kid who was suspected of being gay, but that was precisely because the word carried a power far beyond its meaning.

  But knowing that he liked girls and being big enough to knock someone out gave Leigh the rare privilege of being able to laugh when the word was turned in his direction.

  The bell rang.

  "Nice meeting you," Leigh said, letting Millie pull him toward the building. He called over his shoulder, "Next time I'll try not to be such a fag."

  "Oliver's not what you think," Preston said as they went into the scheduling office. "He's just very—well, he has his ways."

  "He hit an eighth-grader," Leigh said, wondering if this had somehow escaped Preston's attention.

  "He only grabbed my shirt," Franklin said. "He's not stupid enough to hit me."

  "Well, no one's going to hit you now," Maia said. "Now you have superhero protection."

  Preston laughed and Leigh wondered if Maia was making fun of him.

  But as the day went on and folded into a week, then two weeks, and so on, it became clear that in facing down Oliver Lexham and his gang, Leigh had become a hero of sorts. Franklin had to tell the story countless times, and in the hallways, as well as on different sports teams, people could be heard telling each other, by way of apology or excuse, Next time, I'll try not to be such a fag.

  That this was not heard on the lacrosse field was to be expected, but Oliver never passed Leigh without averting his gaze. Which was a lot, since they had most of their classes together. Leigh, without trying to engage him, studied the guy who was Preston's best friend and who had dumped Maia. By the time two weeks had passed, Leigh decided that Oliver Lexham was a super jerk, but one who managed to make most people think he was a great guy.

  Oliver was smart, could be funny in class, was charming to his teachers, and was by all accounts an amazing athlete. He also interrupted his girlfriend whenever she spoke, and ignored any student who wasn't popular. Leigh wanted to judge Oliver for the careless way he treated his girlfriend, but he himself had been plenty careless with Astra. Leigh was nicer to kids than Oliver was, but he knew that his own protective feelings for Franklin had to do with Millie.

  Still, it was one thing to know you could be a jerk and another to be one. To willingly be one.

  After making up his mind that Oliver was on the wrong side of that distinction, Leigh ignored him. Occasionally, if only because Preston hung out with Oliver, Leigh thought he should come up with a way to make peace with the guy. But he never did, and they continued to pass through the same school as if in separate worlds.

  chapter seventeen

  from the outside

  During the fall term, Leigh took a studio arts class, but he could never quite remember how he came to sign up for it. It was an elective and met after school, three afternoons a week, cutting into time for homework, soccer, and Maia. Perhaps it was that Maia was in a poetry class during those same afternoons, but Leigh thought that what had made him put his name on the list were the words collage and multimedia. They reminded him of the way he thought; in fragments that he gathered over time and slowly put together to form a complete picture.

  He didn't think this was a good or a bad thing. Mostly, he was glad that he knew it about himself. Maybe if he gathered enough fragments about careers, jobs, and colleges, a picture would emerge about what he wanted to do with his life. Or just where he wanted to spend the next four years.

  Ms. Kestell, who taught the class, told all the students that their projects were great, making Leigh wonder if she was teaching or cheerleading. Preston Gavenlock was in the class, along with Oliver Lexham's sweet, blonde girlfriend, Diana Jane Gilbor.

  Preston was making water containers that leaked and were held together by silver wire. He was going to use wind and water to make the containers move and then record the sound. Diana Jane's project was assembling parts from a broken wheelchair. She wanted to frame her finished project with wood and rubber from old crutches. She was writing her college essay on her work with handicapped children and planned for her art project to reflect the way society treated, as she put it, the differently abled.

  Leigh, who pretty much hated the obviousness of Diana Jane's project, still really liked the way she was working with her pieces and the paints she had chosen. He was making a collage of the video he had of Maia and Millie from the summer, mixed with still photos he was taking of plants, leaves, and front porches. Although he was pretty sure that the parts weren't going to add up to anything, he enjoyed hunting for good images to capture.

  When Columbus Day weekend rolled around, he knew he should go to New York and break up with Astra (in person), but Maia thought they should go up to New England and look at the foliage.

  "The foliage?" he
asked her.

  "Yeah, you know, the leaves, when they turn colors," she said. "It used to be Josh's favorite thing to do. He'd make a reservation at this place he loved in Massachusetts, and we'd drive all over. It made my mother nuts."

  Which was how he decided breaking up with Astra could wait; instead, he would take Maia to Maine. He spent some of the money from bussing tables on plane tickets, because although he could do the drive, it would be endless.

  ~~~

  Leigh took pictures of ducks, Lillian's hands, the back of Pete's head, and Maia's covered-up arms as she was helping Pete in the garden. Maia made dinner one night, cooking fish out on the grill and wrapping bacon around mushrooms stuffed with cheese.

  She told Pete about building a latrine when she was eleven and spending a week with Josh in a tent up in the mountains.

  "No running water, no people, no showers, just us getting as gross as possible," Maia said, helping herself to more mushrooms.

  "Where was your mother?" Lillian asked.

  "Are you kidding? She was home."

  "You must have been some great eleven-year-old," Pete said. "I don't know many girls who would skip a shower for that long."

  "I was like a boy when I was eleven," Maia said. "Totally fearless, happy to run around in the dirt, but, you know, a girl."

  Leigh didn't particularly like the expression on his mother's face. He wasn't sure what it meant, and he didn't want to know, so he told Maia to tell Lillian about the poetry club.

  "It's more a reading club," Maia said. "It's to learn how a poem isn't only about expressing your feelings."

  Lillian, who reread certain poems every year, asked, "What else is a poem about?"

  "The rhythm and the images buried in the language," Maia said. "All the ways you can build an emotion with words, but you can't just write 'I feel sad.' I mean, you can, but it's not poetry."

  Lillian asked what the club was reading, and Maia told her Paul Celan because some girl had heard one of his poems read aloud on the radio and wanted to know more about him.

 

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