On Thursday we had to present our papers for Current Events. Spaz got up early, threw together his essay, and presented it with great drama.
It was just as well that I didn’t talk about incest. The news about Amanda wasn’t out, and like Dad had said, people might’ve reacted badly. I hated standing in front of the class and having everyone stare at my scarred face.
Jessie had such poise in front of the room. Mr. Palmer asked her to go last, probably because anyone who followed might be distracted by the predictable debates about abortion. As it was, the arguments started in the hall after class.
It was disappointing, if unsurprising; the kids just seemed to parrot whatever they’d heard at home or at church. It was all black and white, us versus them. Nobody was listening or trying to understand a differing view. Eventually, Mr. Harding came by and broke it up.
Spaz sat across from me at lunch. Looking over his shoulder, I glanced at Jessie with her friends. The girls clumped together, chattering about who liked who, who was cute, and their favorite stars and music. It struck me that she was dressing more provocatively – tighter jeans, thinner tops, lower necklines... and the makeup. But then again, I thought that about all the girls. It was probably just me.
The big news at lunch at was about Danny Yirzbik and his boys; it was public. They were arraigned at the 94th District, and bound over to the 47th Circuit. We heard that it was a circus; there was actually a network satellite truck in the street downtown.
Thinking about Amanda, I looked around the lunch room, wondering what burdens each person bore. Some I knew; Jaime Todd’s dad just walked out on the family, and Stewart’s dad was in jail. Stew sent all his allowance to the canteen account so his dad could buy cigs. Nancy smoked weed that she stole from her mom. I knew a couple of kids whose parents had lost their jobs. There was Staci. Her older brother had clinical depression, and she’d never been the same since he committed suicide last year.
And then there was Robert, Spaz. His parents were divorced and he didn’t get to see his dad very often. His mother had mental problems and drank a lot when she was in a down swing. He sat across the table scarfing the sandwiches I brought for him. I knew that sometimes it was his only meal of the day.
A kid everybody called Moose walked by, on his way to sit with the other hockey players.
“Hey Spaz. See ya in the penalty box.” He joked. Rob couldn’t seem to shoot a goal to save his life, but was intimidating on defense. He was good at turnovers, but often too aggressive when it came to checking.
I watched people’s faces when they heard the news about Amanda, thinking that maybe I could catch a reaction that was different from the others. Rob read my mind as he often seemed to.
“Too bad you didn’t do your original topic for your paper, huh?”
“Everybody’s uncomfortable with the subject, and apparently it’s too taboo to discuss outside of the hype.”
Spaz looked both ways to see if anyone was near us. Satisfied, he said softly, “Can I ask you something, Cory?”
Spaz had never sought permission to ask anything. “Sure, go ahead.”
“What’s it like to be in love?”
The question nearly knocked me off the chair. “How would I know?”
“Cory, there’s a lot that you don’t say. Me, on the other hand, well, you know. A lot of times I don’t even know what I’m thinking before it comes out of my mouth. But you... I think, that, um... you’ve never said anything, but I just get that feeling. You have a serious crush on a girl.”
I was already shaking my head, ready to deny anything.
“That’s not what I want to say – let me start over. I have a crush on a girl.”
“Really? That’s excellent.”
He looked startled that I’d be pleased. “It feels like a death sentence.”
“Why? Dude! Being in love’s pure adrenalin, and you love adrenalin.”
He cracked a crooked smile. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”
“Who’s the lucky young lady? I’m guessing Jody.”
“Well, yeah, she’s like my dream girl, but I’m too dumb for her.”
“So who?”
“Not yet. I haven’t decided what I want to do about it.”
“Maybe you have a cold or something. Normally you’d be under her window cranking out a death metal love song with the amp turned to eleven.”
“That’s true,” he pondered. “But for once I care whether I screw things up or not.”
“Rob, you’re who you are. Just be you.”
“Really? Okay, thanks. That means a lot to me.”
A couple seniors sat down near us, and we finished our lunch in silence.
As we got up he nudged me with his elbow. “About your paper – would’ve been a pretty gutsy move, dude. Considering, I mean.”
“You mean Amanda?”
“Amanda? Oh, I get it.”
“What do you mean, Rob?”
“You know what I mean.”
Those five words churned in my stomach all afternoon.
After the bell, a reporter was outside the school. Some students were talking on camera. I slipped onto the bus as invisibly as I could manage. I wondered what would happen if anyone found out the tip came from a boy who wanted to sleep with his sister.