Sunblind

by Michael Griffo

  Chapter 8

  “Nadine!”

  “Napoleon!”

  Over a week later Caleb and I still can’t agree, so it’s time to bring it up to the two other members of the Wolf Pack for a confab. Since the fate of one of the charter members is going to be discussed, we couldn’t talk in the cafeteria; we had to pick a more isolated rendezvous spot where we could speak without fear of being overheard and a place where Nadine wouldn’t expect to find us. That’s why, instead of crowding around a lunch table, the four of us are cramped into a large closet off of the band room where they keep extra instruments.

  I saw this place when I ducked into the choir room, and Archie confirmed that this entire section is soundproof. So even if Nadine or Napoleon is suddenly overcome with the need to explore his or her hidden musical talents and enters the main band room, they won’t overhear us talking about them. It allows us to speak freely behind our friends’ backs.

  Sitting next to a tuba that makes me feel incredibly svelte, I inform Arla and Archie about Jess’s visit and her message, and then dive into my pitch.

  “We all know that Jess’s diary is mainly a work of fiction,” I say. “It’s her interpretation of the life around her and from her point of view, which was influenced by her, um, well, by her jealousies.”

  “She did have a wild imagination,” Archie interjects.

  “Yes, she did,” I agree. “She loved to exaggerate, and I’m sure each one of us could spend the next hour citing examples of Jess’s embellishments. So just because she put those same fancy phrases on paper doesn’t make them true.”

  Twirling her long blond ponytail around with her index finger, Arla asks, “So that’s why you think Jess’s anti-Nadine entries don’t contain any fact. They’re just manifestations of her true negative feelings toward Napoleon, because she knew down deep that he never wanted to become Mr. Jessalynn Wyatt?”

  “Exactly,” I say.

  Tossing back her ponytail, she asks another question. “That’s a pretty big stretch, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it is,” Archie says.

  The space is so small that when Caleb, who’s sitting on the opposite side from me, stretches his legs out in front of him our toes touch. “And that’s why that theory is wrong.”

  Maybe if I use my newfound strength I could push really hard and send Caleb barreling through the cushioned wall and into the choir room next door? I don’t want to hurt him, but I need to convince Arla and Archie that I’m right. In order to do that, however, I have to convince them that Jess would make up stories even if she thought she would be the only one to read them.

  “My theory isn’t wrong,” I correct. “It’s the only plausible explanation.”

  “So explain,” Archie commands.

  It might be the tight quarters, but I’m getting an antagonistic vibe from Archie. He hasn’t really said much, but his whole attitude is confrontational. It’s a bit off-putting, considering he knows how often Jess would make things up about people when she was alive and how she loved to create drama when it wasn’t there.

  “Regardless of how Nap felt for Jess,” I explain, “she was completely in love with him, so she couldn’t see him for the person he really is.”

  “And what type of person is he?” Archie asks.

  Okay, now I’m certain Archie is being confrontational, because he couldn’t look at me when he asked that question. He spit it out while he was pulling out the little spit thing on the trumpet he’s holding in his hands, acting as if he’s more interested in the instrument than in what I’m about to say.

  “In his mother’s own words, he’s unmanageable,” I convey.

  “Why don’t you use your own words, Dom?” Archie demands.

  This time when I turn to my left to look at Archie, he’s looking right at me, and I’m the one who immediately shifts focus. I lock eyes with Caleb first and then Arla across the room, and the three of us are all surprised; we all share the same thought, the same common denominator: Why is Archie so pro-Nap all of a sudden?

  “In my own words?” I repeat. “Nap’s dangerous.”

  Even though Caleb disagrees with me, he keeps silent to see how Archie will respond. Our friend doesn’t disappoint.

  “Methinks you’re jumping to conclusions,” he says. “And methinks your conclusions are the wrong ones.”

  Archie is still twiddling the trumpet mouthpiece in his hands, but at least now he’s looking at me; he’s not avoiding my gaze. He really believes what he’s saying. I can accept disagreement from my boyfriend, but not from my best friend.

  “Archie! Why are you sticking up for him?” I ask. “Nap treated Jess horribly. He’s a loner and hardly talks to anyone. Look at everything Nadine’s done to help me; she’s a charter member of the Wolf Pack. It’s obvious that Nap’s the twin Jess was warning me about.”

  Instead of Archie responding, Caleb does. He folds his legs underneath him to create space between us literally and figuratively.

  “I’m with Archie on this one,” he says. “No offense, ladies, but girls know how to play the game; they know how to scheme and plot and say one thing, but really mean another.”

  “It’s called using our feminine wiles,” Arla helps.

  “Thanks, Arla,” Caleb says. “That’s exactly what Nadine’s been doing this whole time.”

  I will admit that generally girls play more mind games than guys, mainly because physically we’re not as strong—well, maybe I am, oh and Gwen too. But generally speaking, we girls have more brains than brawn, so we have to rely on our minds when battling against the opposite sex. Sometimes we take a detour, venture into the dark side, and use our brains for nefarious deeds like manipulating boyfriends and parents and teachers, but most of the time it’s a harmless, though effective, method of getting our own way. What Caleb’s talking about is different.

  Caleb’s suggesting that Nadine is on a par with some KGB, double agent, super spy. All this time she’s been helping me, acting like my friend, when her motives have been nothing but unpure. I can’t accept that. If I’ve learned nothing else through this journey so far it’s that my gut instinct is reliable, and right now it’s telling me that Caleb has no idea what he’s talking about. I wish I had a nicer way of conveying my thoughts, but I don’t.

  “Caleb, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Domgirl, you’re just upset because you didn’t see it for yourself,” he replies. “Nadine has been playing you; she’s been playing all of us. We’ve all suspected it, and now that we have proof . . .”

  “What proof?” Arla asks.

  “Jess’s visit,” Caleb replies.

  “That’s not proof,” I remind him. “She never mentioned Nadine’s name.”

  “She made a cross-dimensional visit to offer a clue,” he says, his arms flailing at his sides so wildly that Arla has to duck out of the way or else risk getting bashed. “She’s got to know that you’ve read her diary; she’s just hoping that you’ll connect the dots.”

  “Do you really think she knows we peeked in her diary?” Arla gasps. “I feel so uncool!”

  The only thing that’s uncool is that I have to defend Nadine’s friendship and loyalty and integrity by admitting that her brother is a letch.

  “Napoleon made a play for me at Jess’s repast, right in her own bedroom!” I confess.

  “Give me that tuba, Dom,” Arla says. “I may need something to throw up in.”

  “You never told me this,” Caleb adds.

  “Because it never happened!” Archie shouts.

  What the hell is going on with him? “You walked in on us! Had you shown up a few seconds later, you would’ve caught Nap in the act of trying to get into my pants.”

  For a second I think Archie is going to chuck the brass mouthpiece at my face. “He was not trying to get into your pants, Dom!”

  Our voices are starting to bounce off the walls and echo so loudly that I’m surprised no one has flung open the door
to find out why so much noise is coming from a soundproof room.

  “Yes, he was!” I cry. “He’s always trying to get into my pants!”

  “That’s a lie!” Archie shouts even louder.

  “No, it isn’t!”

  “He doesn’t want to get into your pants, Dom,” Archie says, “because he’s already gotten into mine!”

  It’s like the end of a rousing symphony to which no one applauds. Siss, boom, bang, silence.

  “Napoleon’s gay?” I shriek-ask.

  “Napoleon’s my boyfriend,” Archie replies.

  “What?!”

  I don’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that Napoleon’s gay or that he’s Archie’s boyfriend. No, wait, I totally know! The first part is shocking, but the latter part is just plain disturbing. Of all the available gay guys at Two W, Archie has to pick the twinemy?

  “Ahhhh!!! That is BNE!” Arla squeals. “Best news ever!!”

  Really? I mean really, Arla? Am I the only one who understands the ramifications of Archie’s poor choice for a bf?

  “No way!” Caleb shouts.

  Okay, maybe I’m not the only one.

  “Way,” Archie replies. “Since August 2nd; that’s our anniversary.”

  Arla squeals again. “I have to start shopping for a two-month anniversary gift for you guys.”

  It’s obvious by the scowl on Caleb’s face that he will not be joining Arla at the mall. But what’s the reason for his scowl? He doesn’t share my opinion about Nap’s being the bad twin, so Archie’s announcement shouldn’t make him angry. Unless my boyfriend is a closet homophobe, which would be impossible; I mean if that were true, how could he be Archie’s best friend. Oh no! No, no, no, no, no! If Caleb isn’t a closet homophobe, maybe he’s a closet case?!

  “Caleb,” I say. “Are you . . .” I can hardly say the word. “Jealous?”

  “No, I am not jealous!” Caleb shouts. “That’s absurd!”

  Whew, that was a close one. Well, if he isn’t jealous, what’s his problem?

  “I’m thrilled for Arch,” Caleb admits. “But I’m also pissed off.”

  “Why?” the three of us ask at the same time.

  “You’ve had a boyfriend for almost two months, and I’m just finding out about it now?”

  There it is. Caleb isn’t upset that he lost Archie to another guy; he’s upset that Archie didn’t fill him in.

  “I’m sorry, Bells, but not everybody is as out and proud as I am,” Archie declares. “Nap didn’t want me to tell anybody, not until he gets more comfortable with the whole gay thing.”

  “Well, we’re all comfortable with the whole gay thing,” Caleb announces. “So Nap is just going to have to deal with it.”

  “What about you, Dom,” Archie asks. “Are you going to be able to deal with it?”

  I have to make a decision, am I going to be a wolf or a girl? Do I grind my fangs, relentlessly pursue my objective, and continue to try and convince everyone that Napoleon is not to be trusted? Or do I embrace my inner girlie-girl and howl with delight that Archie’s found happiness? I’m conflicted, but I ultimately make the choice that I know will make my friend happy, even if I’m not fully certain that it’s the right choice to make. What helps is when I look into Archie’s eyes and see his staring back at me. The eyes that I’ve grown up with and, hopefully, the eyes that I’ll see for decades to come.

  “I’m very happy for you, Archie,” I say, holding him tight. Not tight enough to make him forget my doubts though.

  “But not happy that I’m with Napoleon,” he replies.

  It’s a wonderful feeling not being able to pull one over on your friends, even if it means you have to squirm a little.

  “Well, why don’t you arrange a meeting for us and the Napster so we can all get to know him better,” I suggest.

  For the rest of the day, Caleb, Arla, and I exert so much peer pressure onto Archie that he has no choice but to arrange a surprise meeting after school. Somehow Nadine didn’t notice what was going on nor did she catch our whispering and note-passing during class, so when I saw her right before last period I almost blew the whole undercover operation to uncover Archie’s paramour.

  “Hey, Dom, are we still getting together after school?” she asked me.

  If it weren’t for Rayna’s bumping into me and jostling my books, I would’ve slipped and told Nadine to meet us on the stage, which was where Archie told us to meet him after school, but the physical interruption gave me a moment to collect my thoughts. Once again, Nadine was not being invited to a Wolf Pack gathering.

  “I’m sorry, Nay. I can’t today,” I lied.

  Either it wasn’t a very good lie or I was just feeling guilty for choosing a side that Nadine wasn’t on, but my palms started to get sweaty. It’s an incredibly gross feeling, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it except maybe tell the truth and reverse the process. But in this instance I couldn’t tell the truth, because Archie told us one of the main reasons Nap wanted to keep his same-sex relationship secret was because his opposite-sex twin would freak out.

  Personally, I don’t believe that’s true. Nadine has never once said anything nasty to or about Archie or the gay population as a whole, and her mother was even cool to Archie when he made a gay comment in her presence. However, I imagine that Napoleon is frightened to take his first step out into the world wearing a huge gay sign on his head, and he automatically thinks that everyone, including his family, is going to hate him and want nothing to do with him. I’ve heard and read stories of it happening to kids before. In fact there was this kid a few years ahead of me at Two W, Michael Howard, who was gay and had to deal with lots of bullying, so it’s a real issue. Nap will just have to find out that it’s a nonissue for Nadine on his own timetable. There’s no way I’m going to speed up the process because I can’t keep my mouth shut.

  “I have to get home right after school and help Barnaby with some project,” I said. “I think I’m making the solar system out of Styrofoam, which isn’t the best way to spend the afternoon, but I need to bond with my brother.”

  Nadine clutched her books a bit tighter to her chest. “Is he still acting out since your father’s death?”

  A flicker of silver light shined over Nadine’s body for a second, less than that, but long enough for me to witness it. Did Nadine will the light to remain within her body? If so, it’s the first time that I realized she may have control over this silver shadow, just like Napoleon obviously has control over the light that’s within him.

  “Let’s just say it’s been a difficult time for him,” I replied.

  “Of course it has,” she said. “But it would be even more difficult if he knew why his father died.”

  The silence that followed Nadine’s comment was interrupted only by the clicking of her pen. Two quick clicks, then a pause, then two more. I waited for Nadine to continue clicking, but she stopped. Once again an interruption offered me a moment of clarity. I knew it was time for me to stop talking about my brother and my father and how death is now their only connection.

  “Maybe we can meet tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t have cheerleading practice.”

  Nadine smiled just as the bell rang, and we both had to sprint or risk being late for class. I whipped past her and ran off to my World History II class, but just as I turned the corner I saw Nadine staring at me. Her lips were moving like she was talking to herself, and the silver mist slowly started to rise above her head. I was transfixed as the mist began to move down the hallway toward me. I don’t know what would’ve happened if the wolf hadn’t taken control of my body and ran the rest of the way to class. I sat in my seat just as Mr. Lamatina entered the room. I wasn’t late, but definitely was puzzled.

  Now after school, I’m even more puzzled because I’m standing in between Arla and Caleb behind some scenery on the stage. The curtain is drawn, so even though I can hear voices in the theater, our presence will remain secret. Unlike Archie and Napoleon’s relation
ship.

  Archie is sitting in the half-built convertible Corvette that is being constructed for the upcoming production of Grease—the PG version with all the dirty words and references cut out, of course, and starring a boy and a girl Danny and Sandy and not the all-male version that’s about to take place.

  Just as I hear footsteps, Arla nudges her elbow into my stomach, and we both peer through a tiny crack in the wooden flat we’re standing behind to see Napoleon nervously climb into the car and sit next to Archie. They start whispering to one another, and Arla and Caleb look at me, expecting me to interpret what they’re saying, but it’s a private whispersation so I tune them out. I wouldn’t want someone listening in to my intimate conversations with Caleb. But my boyfriend’s so determined to hear what’s going on that he presses his ear closer to the flat so hard that I’m afraid it’s going to topple over. But very quickly there’s nothing to hear except for the sound of kissing.

  All wolf instinct is gone, and the girl has taken over completely. Arla and I clutch each other and we press our free hands against our mouths so we don’t scream in sheer delight when we see Archie and Napoleon start to make out. Caleb isn’t so quick to conceal his comments.

  “Dude! You really are gay!”

  The shock of hearing Caleb’s voice causes Napoleon to jump out of the fake Corvette and fall right onto his head. I fight the urge to call Nurse Nelson because it looks like Nap might be suffering from a heart attack. He’s gasping for breath and sweating, but he doesn’t need my help; he’s got Archie.

  With one deft movement, Archie grabs Nap under his armpits and lifts him off the ground. He’s not going to die, but he’s still in shock.

  “What the hell is going on?!” Nap screams, clutching his heart.

  “I’m sorry, Nap,” Archie starts, “but they didn’t believe me when I told them you were my boyfriend, so I thought it would be best to show them.”

  “We believed you,” Arla and I say at the same time.

  “Caleb was the only doubter,” I add.