“Asha’s here,” I said.
“Hmm. I bet she’s contributing a lot.”
“Lila.”
“Charlotte,” she said. “We’re getting off the point. Jason’s going to fuck me and I’m going to get it over with.”
“Lila,” I said. “Please listen to me for a second. Are you sure you want it to happen like this? I’m not trying to judge, I promise. I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m done being a virgin. I feel like I’m wearing a straitjacket and I want someone to untie it.”
I laughed despite myself. “That’s awfully poetic.”
Lila gestured grandly. “Nature is inspiring!”
“But,” I said, “are you really—”
“Jesus, Charlie, why are you trying to cock-block me? You’re a sexist, you know. You can’t stop this woman from making a choice.”
“I’m just not sure you’re in the best state for judgments on important issues right now, okay?”
“Thanks, Mom. I thought you’d be happy for me. Instead you’re just jea—”
“Lila,” Drummond cut in. “I think maybe you need to turn in for the night.”
She grinned at him. “You think so, Tom?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “It’ll be a lot less painful than getting suspended.”
“Oh my God, Thomas. Is everyone here just not getting any? You’re really going to suspend me? I thought you were the cool teacher.”
“I’m trying to prevent you from getting suspended,” he said. He got up. “Let’s go back. I’ll walk you to your room.”
Lila considered his offer. “What do I get out of this?”
“Probably a lot of barfing into the toilet,” I said. I turned to Drummond. “I can take her if you want.”
Lila glared at me. “No thank you.”
“It’s okay,” Drummond said to me. “You guys enjoy the evening. Come on, Boorman. Let’s get you some coffee.”
She nearly tumbled against him, but then, remembering herself, she lagged a couple of steps behind. I wanted to follow them just in case Lila…I didn’t know what. I didn’t want them having any intimate moments with each other. She was even looser and more dangerous than she usually was.
Asha and I watched them disappearing into the distance, dark shapes against the fading sky.
“Lila’s a fun drunk,” she said.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “You think she’s okay? She looked really wasted.”
“She’s fine,” Asha said. “I’ve seen way worse. And remember how you’re not supposed to apologize?”
“I know, but I feel like I unleashed this on the world somehow,” I said. “I know this is stupid, but did it seem like they were going to…”
Asha looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I raised mine back.
“Ew,” she said. “No.”
“Are you saying that ’cause the thought’s gross or because it seemed unlikely?”
“Both,” she said. “Both reasons.”
“I hope so.”
“He’s not going to fall in love with her because she’s drunk,” Asha said. “He was just being a good guy.”
“I know,” I said. “But— Hold on, did you just say something nice about Drummond?”
“I’ll deny it if you tell anyone.”
“You like him,” I said in a singsong.
She hit me playfully. “Not like you do.”
I hesitated a moment, and then I leaned my head against her shoulder. I was worried she would pull away, but she didn’t. After a moment she put her head against mine and let out a long breath.
“We should probably get ready for dinner,” I said.
“Yeah,” Asha said.
But neither of us moved, and we sat like that for a long time, until the sun blazed out of the sky and the stars wheeled on top of us. Then we got up and started the long walk back.
When I went to our room after dinner, Lila was passed out on my bed. At first I thought I’d let her sleep, but suddenly the idea of her and Drummond alone together felt catastrophic.
I used the bathroom loudly, banging the toilet lid up and down, slamming the door, humming as I brushed my teeth. When that didn’t work, I tested out ringtones on my phone and switched the lights on and off a few times. She still didn’t stir.
Finally I stood over her. “Lila.”
She didn’t move.
“Lila!” I grabbed her arm and shook it.
“Mmmm,” she said. She turned toward me, but her eyes stayed closed.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “I feel fantastic.”
“So what happened?”
“With—how?”
“With Drummond,” I said. “What happened?”
“What are you— Where am I?” She cracked one eye open and looked at me blearily. “What’s going on?”
“You’re in my bed,” I said. “What happened with Drummond?”
“Kissed him,” she said.
“You what?”
She smiled lazily. “He’s hot, Charlie.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Hot for teacher.”
“Lila, I need to know.”
“Why, so you can have your shot?”
“Please, Lila?” I said.
She sighed deeply, as if she were preparing to do me the world’s biggest favor. Then she rolled over so half her face was still submerged in my pillow. “No, we didn’t kiss, okay? I tried and he turned me down.”
“What happened?” I said softly.
“He walked me here and I went for it, and he pulled away so quickly he probably sprained his neck. He humiliated me. Took my vodka off me too, the prick.”
I sagged onto her bed.
“Why don’t you go see him, Charlie? I’m sure he’s got blue balls after that, so he should be up for it.”
I gaped at her. “What the…I’m going to pretend you only said that because you’re drunk.”
She squinted at me. “Go tell him how I’m an embarrassment and you guys can laugh at how superior you are to me.”
My jaw tightened. “Happy to,” I said.
—
He answered his door almost immediately. “Chuck,” he said. He smiled, but he didn’t look happy. “Perfect. Should have known it would be you.”
“Uh, hi,” I said. “I was just— I wanted to make sure—”
“How did you know where I was?” he said. His voice was jagged around the edges, as if he’d just woken up. His hair was damp and spiky like he’d been sweating.
“They told us where the teachers’ rooms were in case we had an emergency,” I said. This was true enough.
“Ah,” he said. “You might as well come in.” He stood back and after a second I tentatively stepped past him. His bed was made, but the comforter had crumpled where he’d been lying on it. I recognized Lila’s blue sports bottle on the nightstand and realized that he reeked of alcohol.
I turned to him. “Have you been drinking?”
He let the door bang shut. “Just a little.”
“Did you…drink Lila’s vodka?”
“Some of it,” he said. “Though there’s only so much pineapple-flavored alcohol you can take even if you’re desperate.”
I watched him as he sat down shakily on the armchair across from the bed. It let out a series of squeaks as it took his weight.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He laughed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Not really.”
“What’s wrong?”
He lowered his hands. His eyes were rheumy. “Sorry, Chuck, but I’d rather not talk about it with you.”
I swallowed. “Oh,” I said. “Okay.” I sat down on the bed. “Not that I’m judging or anything, but aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, not drink, since you’re a chaperone and all?”
“Ideally,” he said. “But today was not ideal.”
I too
k a breath, preparing myself. “Lila—”
He shook his head. He looked annoyed. “Don’t worry, Chuck, I didn’t get any ideas.” He said it like I was ridiculous to have even considered the possibility.
“I didn’t think you—”
“It wasn’t that, all right?” he said. “It wasn’t just that, anyway.”
Relief stopped me from pressing him about it. “The thing with Sean?” I said.
He sighed. “Charlie, don’t bother trying to figure it out, okay? In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to figure me out at all.”
I paused. “Okay,” I said.
He slumped in the chair and covered his face with his hands. “Couldn’t you just have left me alone for one night?”
I was still reeling from the last shock and didn’t know what to say. Was this who he really was? Maybe he was cruel and the alcohol had revealed it, like a lenticular picture that changed when you flipped it back and forth. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was worried about Lila.”
He laughed. “Sure. You seemed really concerned for her well-being.”
“I seemed— What does that mean?”
He looked at the ceiling. “I do wonder sometimes if I am Doc Daneeka,” he said.
“Wait. We’re talking about Catch-22 now?”
“You read a book like that enough times and you start to wonder if there’s any meaning to anything.”
“I think, um, yes? Where is this…where is this going?”
He rubbed his hands over his face. He’d let his stubble grow longer lately and his jawline was ragged with hair. “When I was young, I thought I wanted to be a writer. But as I got older I realized I just loved stories; it didn’t matter whether I told them or not. I decided to be a teacher because I liked sharing them with people—taking them apart, unpacking their meaning. I thought they could, I don’t know…explain something to me about my own existence, I guess, and I liked the idea of giving that to other people.
“But there is no meaning really, is there? All our stories are just rationalizations. Making meaning where there isn’t any. You think there must be some significance behind why things happen the way they do—some moral or purpose—like that would justify your own idiocy or give it a point or elevate it beyond the stupid, petty bullshit you see every day. Why is it so easy to see that other people’s lives are random and pointless and so hard to see that your own is too?”
“Um…I don’t— That’s a tough one,” I said, but he went on as if he hadn’t heard me.
“Then you meet someone and you think they’re special and they bring some meaning to your life and they make you feel understood and you start creating all these— But it’s just your excuse to do what you wanted to all along. No one’s that special. No one’s meant for you. It’s not ill-fated or star-crossed or unjust. It’s just desire, stupid and meaningless and base. I wish I had as much meaning as Doc Daneeka did.”
I was terrified of what he would say next, but he abruptly stopped talking. He exhaled in a long sweep like he was clearing his lungs of the words.
“He kind of got redeemed,” I said. I kept my voice low so it wouldn’t shake.
He finally looked at me. His pupils were huge, as dark as carbon. “Exactly,” he said. “That’s exactly why I can never be him. The story itself created meaning for him. You can’t…Things don’t actually work that way.”
“I guess…,” I said. “I guess we’re not still talking about me and Lila?”
He huffed. “No, about me and Rachel—according to you, anyway.”
I blanched. “You and Rachel?”
“Well, apparently I screwed up my life with that one, so why not do it again?”
“What are you…what are you saying?”
“I’ve been alone all year,” he said. “And for what? I could have been with somebody. I’ve had offers.” He looked at me. “Okay, one offer.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you here,” I said.
“You probably have good reason to hate her.”
“Lila?”
“No,” he said. “Tracey.”
“Tra— Ms. Anders?”
He smiled in a way that made me feel very young. “Yes, Ms. Anders.”
I stared at him. “She…wanted to be in a relationship with you?”
He laughed deep in his throat. “Something like that. But I turned her down. I thought I…” He glanced at me and then looked away. “Thought I was a real hero too.”
I realized I was shaking my head. The whole conversation felt surreal. “Why are you telling me this stuff?”
“I don’t know, kid,” he said. “You’re not taking it as well as I had hoped.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
He held up his hands. “You’ll have to get used to bullshit like mine eventually. This is the thrilling world of adulthood.”
I finally bristled. “Not all adults are full of bullshit,” I said.
He blinked at me slowly. “Most of them are,” he said, “but I take your point. I’m not exactly an ambassador for the brand, am I?”
“I guess not,” I said. I stood up. “I shouldn’t be here.”
He let me get to the door before he stood up too. “Charlie, hold on,” he said.
I turned around, ready to yell at him. “What?”
He paused. “Can we just— Let’s pretend.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t you dare. You cannot use that for this. This is—”
“Okay,” he said. “No, you’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. Please just stay.”
Even though I was mad, the word stay was irresistible. He was begging me. I felt flush with power. “Why should I?”
I wanted him to say something like Because I need you or I can’t be alone tonight, but instead he repeated, “Just stay, please.”
I went back to the bed and sat down. He was still standing by the chair opposite. “You look like shit,” I said.
“Strangely enough, I feel like shit.”
“So you’re not going to be drinking pineapple-flavored vodka again?”
He flopped onto the bed next to me and groaned. “No,” he said. “No more alcohol talk, please.”
“Maybe I should take it away from you just in case,” I said. I started to get up, but he grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down next to him on the bed so we were lying only a few inches apart.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t say anything.
“There’s no excuse,” he said. “None of that was true. Well, except the part about Ms. Anders. I really should not have told you that.”
I was afraid I was going to start crying. “Why did you say it, then?”
“I’m an asshole,” he said. “I was angry at myself, so I took it out on you.”
“What is going on with you?” I said. “Please tell me.”
He looked at me for a long time. “You know what’s going on,” he said finally. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed my temple. “I’m just a person, Charlie. I’m not special.”
My mouth went dry. My heart felt like it was going to crack my ribs open. “That’s not true,” I said.
“It is,” he said. “I’m not mysterious. I’m such a— I don’t deserve this…attention you’ve given me. As lovely and flattering as it is.”
I was embarrassed it had been so obvious and pleased that he’d noticed. I hesitated for a moment, and then I reached out my hand and brushed the damp hair off his forehead. A few strands stuck there like dark corn husks. He had a sad smile on his face that looked like he was getting further away from me the longer it went on.
“But you like it,” I said tentatively.
He blinked, and I watched color spill over his cheeks. I was terrified he would deny it and humiliate me, but he didn’t.
“You’re so young,” he said softly, as if he were saying it to himself.
“You’re so old,” I said.
“What are we going to do?” I said. I liked being able to say we, like we were in this together.
He was silent for a while. I studied him more closely than I ever had: the fine lines on his forehead that looked like hairline fractures, the dark raised mole on his neck, the pothole of an old acne scar in his cheek.
Then he said, “I don’t know.”
The next morning Lila didn’t wake up until eleven. She hadn’t moved all night—I knew because I was awake for most of it—and when she finally stirred, it was with a sound that seemed like it came from inside her bones.
“Oh Jesus. Am I alive right now?” she said.
I didn’t look up from my book.
“Charlie?”
“You are,” I said. “And you missed breakfast.”
She groaned. “Please don’t remind me about food.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her stomach delicately, as if it could pop at any second. After a minute she glanced over. “Are you mad at me?”
I put my book in my lap. “Just because you told me I should go have sex with Drummond? Or, wait, I guess you told me to go laugh about you with him and then have sex with him.”
“Oh shit,” she said. She started to laugh, and then she saw my face and her lips compressed like she was biting down on the smile. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t myself, I promise. I don’t even remember saying that.”
“In vino veritas.”
“Ugh, no Latin right now, Charlie.” She sat up and then went gray. “That was a bad idea.” She clutched at her head like she could claw out the headache. “So did you kiss him?”
My heart lurched at the thought.
“Sorry,” she said. “He— Oh. Oh, no.” She looked at me. “I tried to kiss him, didn’t I?”
“Mm-hm.”
She blew out a long breath. “I’m going to have to drop out, aren’t I?” I watched her as she looked at the blank TV, where a negative of her reflection leered in the screen.
“You could get suspended.”
“You think he’d turn me in?”
“No,” I said. “He’s not like that.”
“I hope not,” she said.
“I know he won’t,” I said.
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