by Nick Nolan
Ellie raised her hand. Miss Irwin nodded.
“The colonists used the Port of Boston to generate money for themselves as fishermen, merchants, and shipbuilders.” She raised and lowered the pitch of her voice exaggeratedly as she spoke, in classic know-it-all fashion. “In addition, the ships traveling in and out were the colonists’ only way to communicate with the outside world, including the other New England colonies and their families back in England.”
“That’s correct, Miss O’Neal. And thank you so much for joining us this morning.”
“My pleasure,” she answered, with forced enthusiasm.
Students tittered.
Reed’s hand shot up. “Yes, Miss Banks?”
“That girl over there forgot that closing the port also limited the varieties and quantities of food that came into Boston, not to mention medical supplies.”
Ellie scratched the side of her head facing Reed with her middle finger.
“Good point. I can see that at least some of the ladies in the class are ready for the essay test tomorrow. Now let’s hear from the gentlemen.”
No raised hands.
“Young man?” She glared at Jeremy. “What is your name?”
“Jeremy Tyler.”
“Mr. Tyler, can you think of any other repercussions of the British having closed the Port of Boston in addition to those previously stated?”
The room was a mausoleum. Nearly every student in the class had turned to watch, strained halfway around in their seats. In Fresno, he’d never offered any information in school unless absolutely necessary as the good students were always ridiculed, unless they were jocks. But he was counting on everything here being different. Luckily, he hadn’t hated History as much as his other subjects and had been preparing for a test on a similar chapter the day his mother went on her most recent bender. But he’d not anticipated having to perform so soon.
He licked his lips.
“Weapons and gunpowder were smuggled, by land, into the Port of Boston even though it was closed, and every day that the Patriots’ stash of weapons grew, so did the threat of war against the British.”
All heads swiveled forward to Miss Irwin, whose teeth protruded through her orange lipstick in the weakest of smiles.
“That’s sufficiently correct, Mr. Tyler. And where did you drop in from?”
“Hoover High School in—” don’t say Fresno “—Northern California.”
“Welcome, Mr. Tyler.”
He fought a grin with every muscle in his head.
Having proved himself to the teacher and to the class, at least for the time being, he halfway listened to the teacher while scanning the room and taking mental notes on those surrounding him. After a few moments, he reached the conclusion that they were pretty much like the kids from his last school, only better dressed. But then so was he. In fact, no one besides the two girls, Ellie and Reed, really even stood out, with the exception of a tall, good-looking boy sitting in the row to his right and up one seat. He examined the young man’s high-bridged nose and scraggly blond hair, the rosy smear on his tan cheeks, the athlete’s frame flopped over the yellow plastic chair. And Jeremy thought, If I could look like anyone, it would be him.
Just as the teacher finished her review of The Articles of Confederation, the chime rang. The room erupted into shuffling feet and zipping backpacks.
“Essay test Monday on the causes of the American Revolutionary War!” the teacher yelled over the chaos. Jeremy trailed his classmates out the door and saw that Reed and Ellie were waiting outside.
“We figured you for Cute ’n’ Stupid. Guess we were wrong,” said Ellie.
“I never said anything about him being stupid,” corrected Reed.
“Thanks.” He smiled. “Well, maybe I am, because I could use some help getting to my next class.”
“We’ll show you the way,” Reed offered. “So you just moved here? Tell us more.” They began walking.
“Yeah, a few days ago. I moved in with my aunt and uncle down on Morning View. Overlooking the beach.”
“We know where Morning View is,” declared Ellie. “Streisand and what’s-his-name live there too. So where’s your next class?”
“It’s…” he fished in his pocket “…English Lit in S-14.”
“That’s the building there, next to the tennis courts.” Reed pointed.
“So then just meet us right over there after each bell.” Ellie gestured toward a wall of vending machines. “We’ll aim you in the right direction. And if you’re nice to us, we might even eat our lunch with you.”
“Then after, you can watch Smelly Ellie throw hers up.”
“Speaking of that, look Reed!” She pointed to a heavyset girl. “There’s Mandy Adams, back from the clinic. And it looks like she’s put on fifty pounds!”
“Ooh, I know what she did last summer.…”
“Yuck. And she’s eating one of those jumbo chocolate cookies. In public!”
“Can you believe it?” Reed wrinkled her nose. “Watching a fat girl eat dessert is like seeing an alcoholic get drunk.”
“Oh my God, you are so right!” exclaimed Ellie.
Jeremy nodded his head, although he disagreed. Strongly.
“So what about it, Jeremy?” Ellie asked. “Do you still want to eat lunch with us, or are we just too much?”
“Sure.” He was about to ask where the bathrooms were when he saw Reed’s expression switch from smile to snarl.
“Hey, Ellie, trouble at two o’clock.”
It was the blond boy from Government, headed their way. “And just what the hell do you want?” Ellie shouted as soon as he was within earshot.
“I was curious about the new history whiz.”
“Coby Carson Jeremy Tyler Jeremy Tyler Coby Carson,” Ellie babbled.
Jeremy’s arm shot out to shake hands, while the other kept his shoved deep in his jeans. “Hey,” Coby offered instead, jerking his head backward as if there were a fly on his forehead.
“What, Coby, are you too bitchen to shake hands,” asked Ellie, “or were you doing him a favor because you forgot to wash your hands again after visiting the toilet?”
Coby turned to Jeremy. “Dude.” He held out his hand, and Jeremy took it. Their eyes held for a fraction of a second longer than custom dictated. Coby turned back to Ellie. “I was wondering if I could call you for some of the notes I missed for the test.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and huffed. “Oh, I guess. But I’ll be over at Reed’s tonight studying. Do you remember her number, or for that matter how to use the telephone?”
“How could I forget anything about Reed, especially her number?” He pursed his lips at her and kissed the air. She wrinkled her nose and turned away.
“Because you forget how to count to twenty-one unless you’re naked,” said Ellie, turning her back to Coby and flipping her mane of platinum. “Jeremy, we’d love to walk you to your next class; it’s really no trouble.”
Bells chimed.
“I gotta go,” Coby announced. “See you, ladies.”
The three watched him walk away with his hands back in his jeans, his flannel shirt flapping, pants falling off narrow hips.
“Don’t mind him,” Reed said. “Ellie and he broke up again, and he considers every guy to be a threat.” She lowered her eyes, then looked up with a smile. “Especially cute guys.” They began walking in the direction of the classroom buildings. A minute later, they pointed out his class and waved good-bye.
At lunchtime, Jeremy did not see either of the girls waiting for him at the vending machines, so he took a place at the end of a long line that led up to the concession windows. Disappointment and insecurity built steadily as each passing minute was reported by the clock over the menus, and he resolved to eat the first of what would surely be many solitary lunches here.
Oh well.
He checked the twenty in his pocket and considered his day.
He’d just left Geometry, taught by a guy who was so unintere
sting he might have been in black and white. One person in the class did catch his attention, however: a cute guy with coffee-colored skin and hair like mink. Jeremy thought he’d seen him out of the corner of his eye glancing in his direction twice during the class. And Jeremy pretended not to have seen him looking.
The lunch line inched along. He was close enough now to scan the menu board and smell the french fries. His stomach growled.
As the girl in front of Jeremy grabbed her order, Ellie and Reed ran up to him, all smiles and flying hair.
“Jeremy, thanks so much for keeping our places in line!” panted Ellie.
“Yeah, thanks,” Reed added. “I can’t believe the vice principal kept us so long. Did you order for us?”
Jeremy looked over his shoulder, noting the angry glares being hurled their way. “Not yet,” he replied. “I couldn’t remember…what kind of dressing you wanted on your salads.”
“Silly, you know we always have fat-free ranch!” Ellie giggled, nudging him with her shoulder.
“Just hurry up and order, you stuck-up bitches!” a girl hollered from the back of the line.
“Anyway,” Reed said and rolled her eyes, “two chef salads, no ham, both with fat-free ranch, two diet Cokes and—”
She pointed to Jeremy, who jumped in “—a chicken burrito and a Coke.”
“Let’s eat up at the football field; you can see the ocean from there,” Ellie suggested as she took her salad. “Besides, I want to see the men practice their football drills.”
After getting their lunches, the three walked abreast up the wide steps that led from the quad to the gymnasium and athletic field, chatting about nothing and everything. The sun knifed through the brisk October air, while a mild Santa Ana wind rustled the fronds from the swaying palm trees that tilted like giant shaggy lollipops over the campus. Jeremy gulped the air, held it for as long as he could, then exhaled slowly through his nose. He felt the tension draining from him, his shoulders unhunching.
“Is Brynn coming to the party with Coby?” Reed asked Ellie as they trudged up the ramp and turned past the gymnasium toward the bleachers.
“Not if I can help it. I’ve hated that little social-climbing slut since Girl Scouts. I’ll throw her to the sharks if she dares set foot in my house.”
“Who’s Brynn?” asked Jeremy.
“Oh, she’s Coby’s new plaything…” Ellie threw a kiss to a dozen jocks who whistled and whooped and waved at her “…Head Cheerleader, Homecoming Queen, Coke Whore Deluxe.”
“Coby, your ex-boyfriend?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah, that charming Neanderthal you met this morning.”
“So how long ago did you guys break up?”
“Last August,” Reed interrupted. “She keeps changing her mind about being with him, and him about her. They’re the stars in their own little soap opera that no one cares to watch anymore. The whole situation is Snoresville.”
“Reed, sweetie, at least I’ve had at least one steady boyfriend since puberty, which is more than you can say.” Then turning to Jeremy, “In case you didn’t read all the graffiti in the bathrooms, Reed prefers brief relationships with men. Anyway, we want to know more about you. Tell, tell.” She flung her hair to the side while fishing in her purse, then withdrew her cell phone. “Voice mail,” she announced.
“There’s not much to say,” he began. “You already know where I live and where I came from.”
Ellie turned to Reed. “Missy, we have a mystery boy on our hands!”
“Oh, I just love a mystery!” Reed sighed. “Pass me a fork, you cow.”
Ellie complied, throwing three napkins at her. “Have some of these. They’re sanitary and recyclable.”
The girls cackled. Reed sucked at her soda straw, then continued: “Don’t even try to pretend there’s not some great story about your being some long-lost relative coming here out of the blue to live with the richest family in Ballena Beach.”
“I’m hardly rich,” Jeremy confessed.
“Oh, right,” Ellie laughed, her eyes drifting to a shirtless figure jogging around the football field, while Reed dug silently into her salad with her plastic fork.
Jeremy took the last bite of his burrito, then scrunched the wrapper into a ball. “So what’s there to know about you two?”
“Well,” Reed drawled, “Miss Ellie and I are just two simple-minded gals who wish to meet the men of our dreams and have oodles of children.”
“Yay-yes,” Ellie responded, holding her soda cup with her pinkie straight out while making burbling sounds with her straw.
“Hey, girl, isn’t that the former man of your dreams out there on the track?” Reed asked.
The figure bounded closer. “Yep, it’s him. I’d know those chiseled pecs a mile away.”
“Kind of makes ya sick to know that Brynn gets to gnaw on them now instead of you,” said Reed.
“Why, Reed, such language is really not appropriate in front of our luncheon guest. In any case, Brynn doesn’t look like the gnawing type.”
“Yeah, she’s more the type to be gnawed on,” Reed added, “by coyotes.”
Coby had apparently recognized the figures in the stands and decided to pay them a visit. He slowed his pace as he approached, then took the stairs two at a time to their picnic spot.
“Don’t come any closer with your sweaty self,” Ellie screeched. “My bulimia has a hair trigger.”
Coby grinned in spite of the jab, his glistening chest heaving. “What’s goin’ on?” He looked from Ellie to Reed, ignoring Jeremy.
“We were just planning our costumes for Ellie’s Halloween party this weekend, weren’t we?” stated Reed.
“Why, yes,” confirmed her friend. “And we were wondering if you were coming with that pretty girlfriend of yours, Brie. To the party, that is.”
“Brynn is her name,” he corrected. “Brie, for your information, is cheese.”
“Cheese that smells like urine, to be exact,” said Ellie.
Coby sneered. “Anyway, I’m not sure if we’ll make it there, we’ve got so many other parties to go to Saturday night.”
“I know that all of our friends will be at my party, so you must be referring to Brie’s friends’ parties. Reed, were you aware that Brie had any friends?”
“You mean that are out of jail?” She cocked an eyebrow.
The girls hooted.
“Don’t be such a bitch, Ellie. It ain’t pretty,” Coby said, wiping a drip of sweat off the tip of his nose.
“Ain’t? Ain’t? I see that Brie has been teaching you some of her hillbilly slang, Coby. Your Junior League mother must love her influence on you.” She snapped her half-eaten salad closed and placed it next to her on the bench.
“Why is it that the two of you broke up months ago but are still acting like an old married couple? Huh, Jeremy?” Reed asked.
Jeremy had been staring into the distance during their hostile exchange, made all the more uncomfortable by Coby’s naked torso only inches from his face. “I better stay out of this,” he mumbled.
“Good man,” Coby bellowed, coach-style.
The girls rolled their eyes.
“Jeremy’s coming to the party,” said Reed.
Jeremy turned to Ellie, who smiled and bulged her eyes.
He understood. “Can’t wait.”
“I can,” said Coby. “Anyways, I gotta finish my laps.”
“Then run along,” Ellie ordered. “We’re just leaving anyway.”
The four slowly descended the bleachers, Ellie and Reed yammering about their costumes, the mute boys trailing.
“What’s your next class, Jeremy?” asked Reed, as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Biology, with Ms. Lessner in Room A-22.”
“Our friend Carlo is in that class,” said Ellie. “He’s nice. You guys might get along.”
“That is, if you’re a fag,” laughed Coby.
“Since when did you graduate to full-fledged redneck?” asked Ellie.
“I think he’s channeling Brie,” observed Reed.
“Brynn,” he corrected.
“Whatever. The bell’s gonna ring. We’re off to CAD, which reminds me, Jeremy, what’s your e-mail so I can send you the directions to the party?”
“Mine isn’t set up yet.”
“Well, Reed and I are coming down with colds tomorrow so we can get stuff ready, but you can get the directions from Carlo. He’s been over to my house a zillion times.”
“Maybe you two can be each other’s dates,” said Coby. “You could go as Ballena Beach Ken and Barbie.”
“And I lie awake at night and wonder why we ever broke up, having so much in common. It must be comforting to finally date someone of your own social class.”
“If you had any class, maybe you could do the same.” Coby then jogged away as the threesome descended the ramp by the gymnasium.
“So what does this Carlo look like?” Jeremy asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“Very cute with black hair, dark skin. A little on the short side, with a big smile and very pretty eyes,” said Reed.
“You didn’t mention his bubble butt,” added Ellie. “For once.”
“You’ll know Carlo when you see him, Jeremy. He’ll make sure of that.”
“Does he have a sister named Carmen?” he asked.
“Yeah, he does,” answered Reed. “How did you know?”
“She cut my hair yesterday.”
“Oh.” They nodded.
“So is he really gay?” he asked, sounding politely disgusted.
“Why don’t you ask him when you see him,” said Ellie. “He’s very out. Now you’d better be there Saturday night, and bring someone if you want. But no costume, no admittance.”
An attractive, petite woman who looked more like a Beverly Hills trophy wife than a schoolteacher met him at the door to his next class. She was beautifully dressed in white and navy, and not one blonde hair was out of place.
Did everyone in Ballena Beach just step off a yacht?
“Happy to have you, Jeremy. I’m Ms. Lessner.” She smiled cordially, holding out her hand. Jeremy shook it. “Please find a seat, anywhere you like.”