Read Online manicpixiedreamgirl by Tom Leveen - Free Book Online Page A

“You didn’t have to. The dude wanted her. That’s all you had to say.”
    Sometimes, Justin is a right royal idiot. Other times, he nails it.
    “Interesting,” I say, frowning at my sneakers.
    “But that ‘milky belly’ thing, that was hysterical!” Justin adds, cackling. “Miiiiilky beeeelly!”
    He’s really cracking himself up now.
    “What can I say?” I tell him, and sigh dramatically. “I was young.”
    That gets them both going. Excellent. Once they’ve calmed back down, though, Justin adds, “It was about, like
—desire
. They were acting like they wanted to kill each other, but really they were totally flirting.”
    “You remember all that?” I can’t help but be a little flattered.
    “Yeah, man,” Justin says. “It was sexy.”
    “What did Sydney think of it?” Robby says, narrowing his eyes at me. I can’t tell if he’s still drunk or not. Or, come to think of it, if he really was to begin with. Justin did the most damage to the champagne.
    “I don’t think she ever …”
    I stop as Robby raises his hands. “You never let her read it, did ya.”
    “… No.”
    “Which is why you gotta figure yourself out,” Robby says. “Man, that’s your
girl
. Shit or get off the pot, know what I mean?”
    I nod slowly. And think about Gabby’s last text:
Fix this
.

    Right after I wrote “Stalemate,” I started considering getting into the drama department.
    I couldn’t very well drop any of my classes and take Drama Two—you had to take Drama One first anyway, and I didn’t want to get onstage—but our speech, debate, and theater club, Masque & Gavel, met after school. Robby called it “Massengill.” Sydney always attended the meetings, because she was on the debate team.
    Since I couldn’t ask Syd about Becky anymore, I figured joining the club would be a good way to see how Becky got along with the drama club weirdos. Yes, I dubbed Sydney a drama weirdo, too. She knew it and never argued the point.
    “So, what do you guys do in the drama club, anyway?” I asked Sydney a few days after it occurred to me to join Masque & Gavel.
    “Eh, talk about the plays and speech competitions, mostly,” Sydney said.
    We were sitting near the parking lot after school, waiting for my mom to come pick us up. It was a Friday, which meant Syd was coming over for dinner, a movie, and making out until her dad came to get her. Not having a carsucked. And as far as getting together was concerned, we were limited in what we dared with my bedroom door open; i.e., not much.
    I didn’t see Becky waiting for her ride. Hadn’t lately, in fact.
    “Usually there’s either rehearsal for a play or practice for a tournament afterward,” she added. “Why? You thinking of joining?”
    I shrugged. “Nah,” I said. Fairly convincingly, I thought. “I’m not an actor.”
    “You don’t have to be an actor,” Syd said. “You could learn how to run lights or sound. Or help build the sets. Or why don’t you write a play? Maybe they’d let you put it on.”
    That actually caught my ear, for real. For a minute there, I actually forgot about Becky.
    No, that’s a lie. Moved her temporarily to a different location in my brain, maybe.
    “You think so?”
    “I couldn’t promise you, but it’s worth asking,” Syd said. “Have you ever written a play?”
    “Nope. Just stories.” My short piece about Becky was on its one hundredth draft by that point. Not the fantasy story—the heroic, romantic one I’d been revising every month since I’d first written it the year before.
    “But
good
stories,” Sydney said, kissing my cheek.
    Maybe that was another reason I stayed with Syd. She liked my writing. I didn’t really do anything with it exceptgive a few of what I thought were the funnier ones to her, Robby, and Justin to read. But I figured I could write a play. It would be just like a story, only without the description. God knows I had enough experience dreaming up dialogue for Becky to follow with