totally absorbed in the essay question on page 300. I was not. “What do you mean?” I asked. High school students were notoriously scattered, but when it came to gossip or whispered conversations during class, we were able to work around almost insurmountable odds. We could maintain the flow of conversation despite long-winded teachers, pop-quizzes, and intercom announcements. Many of my fellow students could barely keep up with a ten second conversation with a parent; however, at school, they could respond to a question a peer asked an hour ago without missing a beat.
“Are you t wo, like, together?” she asked.
“Yeah, kind of,” I replied, blushing.
“You can do so much better, Alex.”
“Really? Cause, I don’t exactly see a line of guys outside my house. Sean is nice. We’ve been friends forever,” I said.
“Friends? That’s fine. Going to Homecoming together? Borderline okay. But letting him kiss you? That’s just wrong. How far have you gone with him?” she asked. I blushed and looked away, praying for a miracle to come along and distract her. “Oh, Alex, no,” she blurted, just a bit too loud. A few people turned to look at us.
I was relieved when class was over and I could esca pe the ever-intrusive Chelsea. By the time I met up with Sean in the cafeteria, I viewed him a little differently. Over the past few weeks, I’d overlooked some of his more obvious flaws, but after what my friend said, I couldn’t help but scrutinize him more closely. His clothes never fit quite right, his dark hair was overgrown and messy, he badly needed to shave, and he had a habit of snorting when he laughed. Despite the hospitalization, medication, and regular diet of sex, he still hadn’t shed the overly intense, borderline-manic look in his eyes.
“Hey, baby,” he said just a bit too loud. I sat down next to him, careful to stay out of kissing distance. I didn’t want to be seen with him, all of a sudden. “What’s wrong?” he asked with an expression of deep concern.
I felt my doubts slip away. He was always so sweet. He was the only one who cared about me. “Nothing. You know. School sucks,” I said.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.
“Yes, but I can’t. I’ve got a test in Chemistry, remember? Although, I’ll probably fail it,” I muttered. It was my worst subject.
“I’ll make you feel better later. Is it over yet?” he whispered.
“Almost. Not yet,” I said, looking around to make sure no one had picked up on our intimate conversation. I wished Sean would stop bringing it up. I was relieved when the bell rang and I could escape to English class. It was the only class I liked.
***
After school, I wanted to go to my own house, but Sean had other ideas. “Do you want to ride around with me while I pick up applications?” he asked. He’d spoken about getting a job for about three years , but this was the first time he’d ever made the slightest effort. I was proud of him.
“Is it wise to bring a friend when you apply for jobs?”
“You can sit in the truck and read while I go inside and pick up applications,” he said. “Please. If you don’t come with me, we won’t be able to spend any time together.”
“Should I apply for some jobs too?” I ha d some job experience. During previous summers, I’d worked as a camp counselor at a daycare program at a local park.
“No. Let me take care of you,” he said. I knew not to argue. I’d look for jobs some other time. Preferably while I was alone. If that ever happened.
I sat in his truck and read my novel while he went into the taco shop. He was back outside in about two minutes and seemed pissed.
“Assholes. Why would they have a ‘Now Accepting Applications’ sign if they’re not hiring right now?” I patted his knee and he leaned over to give me a rough kiss. We drove all around town. Sometimes he was in and out in a matter of minutes. Sometimes he was inside for twenty
“Are you t wo, like, together?” she asked.
“Yeah, kind of,” I replied, blushing.
“You can do so much better, Alex.”
“Really? Cause, I don’t exactly see a line of guys outside my house. Sean is nice. We’ve been friends forever,” I said.
“Friends? That’s fine. Going to Homecoming together? Borderline okay. But letting him kiss you? That’s just wrong. How far have you gone with him?” she asked. I blushed and looked away, praying for a miracle to come along and distract her. “Oh, Alex, no,” she blurted, just a bit too loud. A few people turned to look at us.
I was relieved when class was over and I could esca pe the ever-intrusive Chelsea. By the time I met up with Sean in the cafeteria, I viewed him a little differently. Over the past few weeks, I’d overlooked some of his more obvious flaws, but after what my friend said, I couldn’t help but scrutinize him more closely. His clothes never fit quite right, his dark hair was overgrown and messy, he badly needed to shave, and he had a habit of snorting when he laughed. Despite the hospitalization, medication, and regular diet of sex, he still hadn’t shed the overly intense, borderline-manic look in his eyes.
“Hey, baby,” he said just a bit too loud. I sat down next to him, careful to stay out of kissing distance. I didn’t want to be seen with him, all of a sudden. “What’s wrong?” he asked with an expression of deep concern.
I felt my doubts slip away. He was always so sweet. He was the only one who cared about me. “Nothing. You know. School sucks,” I said.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.
“Yes, but I can’t. I’ve got a test in Chemistry, remember? Although, I’ll probably fail it,” I muttered. It was my worst subject.
“I’ll make you feel better later. Is it over yet?” he whispered.
“Almost. Not yet,” I said, looking around to make sure no one had picked up on our intimate conversation. I wished Sean would stop bringing it up. I was relieved when the bell rang and I could escape to English class. It was the only class I liked.
***
After school, I wanted to go to my own house, but Sean had other ideas. “Do you want to ride around with me while I pick up applications?” he asked. He’d spoken about getting a job for about three years , but this was the first time he’d ever made the slightest effort. I was proud of him.
“Is it wise to bring a friend when you apply for jobs?”
“You can sit in the truck and read while I go inside and pick up applications,” he said. “Please. If you don’t come with me, we won’t be able to spend any time together.”
“Should I apply for some jobs too?” I ha d some job experience. During previous summers, I’d worked as a camp counselor at a daycare program at a local park.
“No. Let me take care of you,” he said. I knew not to argue. I’d look for jobs some other time. Preferably while I was alone. If that ever happened.
I sat in his truck and read my novel while he went into the taco shop. He was back outside in about two minutes and seemed pissed.
“Assholes. Why would they have a ‘Now Accepting Applications’ sign if they’re not hiring right now?” I patted his knee and he leaned over to give me a rough kiss. We drove all around town. Sometimes he was in and out in a matter of minutes. Sometimes he was inside for twenty
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