I Know It's Over Part 2

"Tell me," I insisted.

"Later." He nodded at the surrounding gang. "This is for your ears only."

Our very own Vix made an appearance at that moment-cutting through the gathered group like she was strutting a catwalk. You had to hand it to her, she really knew how to play it. Every last one of us was hot for her.

Keelor, always the boldest, stepped forward and tapped her miniskirted a.s.s. "Looking good, Vix, baby. You got twenty minutes for me?"

We all erupted into laughter, instantly twice as boisterous. "Twenty minutes," Gavin said, smiling with his teeth. "Since when is that, Keelor? Trying to break your record?"

Keelor laughed as hard as anyone, and Vix, spotting one of her friends at the other end of the hall, smiled and disappeared into the crowd, catcalls trailing behind her.

Just then Sasha swung out from somewhere behind us. Normally I wouldn't have said anything to her, but we'd had that conversation at the mall only days before and I figured that warranted something a little extra.

"Hey, Sasha," I said, expecting a similar response or at least the traditional nod.

She spun to look at me, then continued to pa.s.s as though she'd thought better of it. A new low for the two of us. I didn't get it. I was positive she'd heard. Keelor scrunched up his face, offended on my behalf, and confirmed it. "She heard you, man. What a b.i.t.c.h."

Exactly. I felt my face getting hot. My throat was tightening the way it did before a fight. I'm not a violent person, but if you slewfoot me on the ice, you're asking for trouble. This felt just like that, like someone had kicked my skates out from under me, sending me down fast and hard.

I rushed down the hall after her and cut her off in front of Ms. Raines's English cla.s.s before I had time to think. She must've been a full six inches shorter than me. My head bent down towards hers, my jaw square with my shoulders. "Sasha," I said irritably. "What? You don't say hi?"

"I didn't see you," she said, crossing her arms and clutching her notebook in front of her.

"No, you did see me," I corrected. She seemed angrier than I was and I had no idea why. I looked into her angry face and noted that it wasn't identical to her concentration face after all, not quite. She was pouting at me like a kid, like Holland used to when I'd been ignoring her. There was this force field of bad vibes between us, running all the way up to the ceiling.

"Okay, I did see," she said flatly. "You were all being such a.s.sholes I didn't feel like saying h.e.l.lo, okay?"

"What? You mean with Vix?" What else could she mean? I was stunned. What was the big deal?

"Victoria, yeah, I mean her. You're standing there laughing your a.s.s off at Keelor being a moron and then you turn around and say hi to me like the whole thing was nothing." She glared at me like I was toilet paper, or something worse, stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"It was nothing." I frowned. "If she's not offended, why should you be? We're all friends. You know that, right?" s.h.i.t. I didn't need that kind of bulls.h.i.t from this girl.

"I'm just sick of it happening all the time around here."

She looked genuinely worn out, and I forgot to defend myself. "Is someone messing with you or something?"

"No." She shook her head. "Forget it, okay?" Embarra.s.sment crept into her face as she stared past me at the open English room door.

I wanted to escape then too. I couldn't decide whether to move aside and follow her into English cla.s.s or what. In the end I said the only thing that came into my head: "You going to English?"

"Yeah," she said. "You?"

"Uh-huh." We were still standing by the door, people filtering into cla.s.s around us.

Sasha unfolded her arms and held her notebook down by her side. "Look, it's not just you guys specifically. It's everyone, you know? All the time. Making these comments or grabbing at girls and all that."

I guess I knew what she was talking about. A lot of guys around school were like that. I considered explaining just how close Keelor and Victoria were, but I didn't. I hated that she made me feel like defending my friends and myself, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the information wouldn't make much difference anyway. "So what did you want?" I asked. "Me to come running after you to apologize or was I never supposed to talk to you again?"

"I don't know." Sasha bit her lip and stared at my chest. "It's not like I planned this. I just...didn't like it." She looked lost standing there, her shield down and her eyes avoiding mine. Me, I could've stood there pawing the ground in front of her, trying to figure out whether I felt angry or guilty, but the bell pealed through the hall, jolting me into action.

"Cla.s.s," I said simply, pointing over my shoulder. I made for the doorway, resentment pumping through me as I slid into my seat. People shouldn't be allowed to say things like that when they don't know you. Act all disappointed like you were being a p.r.i.c.k when you were only kidding around. People have no right.

I was so sick of people being disappointed, you have no idea. Mom was disappointed when Dad left. Holland was disappointed when I wouldn't blow him off. Dad was disappointed that Holland wouldn't talk to him anymore and that I couldn't spend more time with him over the summer. There was an ocean of disappointment flowing cold between the four of us. Sometimes I felt like it made me numb, or maybe that's what getting older was like. Maybe pure excitement, pure happiness, and pure fear were just for kids. Maybe I was jaded.

I spied Sasha's head swiveling to glance back at me from her seat near the front of the cla.s.s. She did it quick like she didn't want me to see, but I felt an invisible connection all through English-like that force field from the hall had followed us into the room and wedged itself between us. I felt it the way you feel someone following you, and I knew I was right.

I had a decision to make when the bell sounded again, and I made it fast. Sasha was on her feet already, racing towards the door. I bolted after her, determined not to lose her in the crowd. I didn't call her name; I didn't need to. She stopped about ten feet ahead of me and waited for me to catch up.

"Hi," she said. The word landed with a thud.

"Hi," I repeated. "Is that you actually talking to me?"

"You're making this awkward." Her serious brown eyes were peering into mine this time, which was a start.

"You started it." The words rolled off my tongue the way they did when a pretty girl came into Sports 2 Go. But that wasn't the right tactic to take with Sasha. Her eyes stared straight through me. Bulls.h.i.t, they said. You're so full of it, Nick. Who do you think you're talking to? It was hard to say anything else with her performing that little invisibility trick on me. I was silent for a few seconds, looking for an angle, antic.i.p.ating responses, and reviewing the past hour in my head. What was I doing here? How did this happen? "Look," I began slowly, "I guess I know what you're saying, okay? But I'm not really like that. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. So..." I sized up the hallway, planning my escape route. "Okay. I'm gonna go. I'll see you around."

I started to swing around, to disappear for real, but Sasha grabbed my arm. Gently like. She had little girl hands, hands that could never really stop anyone from disappearing. "Wait," she said.

I stopped, my body half turned towards the hall. I glanced down into her eyes and I could see that she hadn't planned that either, that she had no idea what to say next. She let go of my arm, trying to make the movement seem casual. "So what're you doing this summer?" she asked. "Are you going away or anything?"

I almost laughed. It was so weird, me running after her down the hall and her grabbing for my arm and trying to act like it was normal. I stole a look at Sasha's tiny hands. Her nails were cut real short, neat and functional. She wasn't trying to impress anybody with those nails, that was for sure. Dani painted her nails all the time, her toes too. She had this super-s.e.xy belly-b.u.t.ton ring that her mom had agreed to last summer.

"Working, you know." I shrugged, swallowing my laughter. I could feel it jiggling around underneath my skin, aching to break the air, but I wouldn't let it. I knew Sasha would hate it if I laughed at her just then, that she'd be angry and disappointed all over again. "Hanging out. No big plans." Dad had been on my back about planning weekends at his place, but Sports 2 Go was the perfect excuse. I couldn't commute from his place to Courtland in a hurry. The car trip was nearly two hours, and seeing as I'd just turned sixteen last month, I wasn't eligible for a full license for another seven months. "How about you?"

"Not much," Sasha replied. "Just what I was telling you before." Right, the sailing. I couldn't think of a single thing to say about that. There was a big black hole surrounding our conversation. I shouldn't have chased after her in the first place. There was probably a reason we never talked. Nothing. To. Say. The whole thing was making me feel uptight, and that was the last thing I needed-the ruination of my pre-summer vibes. "You and Nathan should drop by the lake sometime," she continued. "I can get you into the beach for free."

"What about Keelor?"

Sasha shot me an impatient look: Can we stop backsliding on this, Nick? "I think not," she said, sounding like Ms. Raines, the voice of maturity and intellect.

"I'm just kidding." I smiled to prove it. "Yeah, I'll tell Nate. And you know where I am if you're looking for me." The truth was that I couldn't get a read on Sasha. Telling me I was a total d.i.c.k wasn't the best way to get me to visit her at the lake. I touched Sasha's shoulder, determined to leave this time and feeling all the better for it. "Have a good summer, okay?"

"Yeah, you too." She jammed her nine-year-old-girl hands into her pockets and nodded at me.

"Yeah," I repeated, and sailed down the hallway, already recovering. Complications were not on my summer program. I wanted the complete opposite of that, to drift from one event to the next with no apologies or explanations. Pure. Unplanned. Perfect. n.o.body talking me into anything or feeding me guilt trips. I wanted things easy for my sixteenth summer.

I swung by Keelor's locker on the way to Media Arts, ears ripe for whatever had put that dirty grin on his mouth. Everybody's got a dirty mind, that's what Sasha said at the mall. So what's wrong with thinking out loud? Shut up, I said to myself. Who gives a s.h.i.t what she thinks?

"Yo." Keelor nudged my shoulder. "Wondered if I'd find you here. You disappeared in a hurry." We stopped in front of his closed locker, ready for business.

"So what's for my ears only?" I asked, shrugging off the last hour.

"Oh, man, lucky you." Keelor smiled gleefully as he hugged the news to himself. "You'll love this, man, but you can't know, okay? Act surprised when she does it."

"Keelor, what?" My voice strained like a rubber band pulled taut. I hadn't guessed this was about me; that cranked the suspense up two notches.

"Right." Keelor composed himself as best he could, which wasn't saying much. "So you want to know what I heard." He lowered his voice and slanted his head towards mine. "This comes from Vix, so it's reliable." He paused, the two of us listening for a silent drumroll. "Word is Dani's going to give you something special at the party tomorrow."

My jaw dropped. I clamped my mouth shut and gripped my notebook. "Shut up," I said incredulously. "If this is a joke..."

"No joke." Keelor was grinning at me with an almost-fatherly pride. My best friend, about to receive his first b.l.o.w. .j.o.b. Few moments are quite so emotional. "You think I'd joke about something like that?"

"Why would she say that?" I wondered aloud. My body was humming underneath its skin, waiting.

"She wanted technical advice, from the sound of it." Keelor's hand clapped my shoulder. "You didn't hear this from me, right? Just sit back and let it happen." Keelor laughed and leaned against his locker. "You look like you're in shock, man." His eyebrows knit together. "s.h.i.t, I hope she doesn't change her mind now. That'd really be a drag."

"Yeah." I didn't say it so much as breathe it. Yeah. This is exactly what I meant about drifting. Things happen on their own sometimes, without a push from anybody. Answers change and then change again. Maybe this time I'd be on the right side of that. Maybe the perfect summer would start at that party: Dani in her belly-b.u.t.ton ring, her long blond hair fanned behind her back, doing what I'd been waiting for. I leaned against the locker next to Keelor's and beamed at him, feeling like mid-July sun, about sixty-two degrees from numb.

four.

Dani and I started spending some more time together after the party, nothing official-a few solo visits to her place and one trip to the movies. You could say it was partly pleasure and partly obligation. The balance seemed all right with the both of us. She wasn't the kind of person to start laying down rules as soon as things got s.e.xual. The only thing she had to know was that I wasn't fooling around with anyone else. Hanging out with her every now and then was a good idea too. I didn't want her thinking I was abusing our friendship.

Before you start getting the wrong idea, I better make it clear that we never slept together. Other s.e.xual activities went on, but we never did the deed. Sometimes I wondered if I really wanted to. I was a little worried that the rules would change, close in on me until we were practically engaged. I didn't want Dani becoming friends with Holland and my mom, picking out clothes for me, and calling me to complain about her summer job. I'd probably have been more excited about the idea of sleeping together if there was a guarantee against that scenario. That went along with my other worry, which was that right afterwards I'd want to do someone else, one of the long-legged girls with windblown hair that came into Sports 2 Go looking for cross-trainers. I hadn't made up my mind about that, but I didn't want to go messing it up with Dani if that turned out to be the case. Remaining relatively unattached seemed like the answer to everything.

"You don't want the girlfriend," Nathan said over the phone one night. "You just want the s.e.x." It sounded like an accusation, but Nathan wasn't usually judgmental.

"I don't know what I want," I told him. "Maybe I'm not in a hurry to find out."

"Oh, please," Nathan said. "Of course you're in a hurry. You're just like Keelor. The two of you are natural predators."

Coming from Nathan, that wasn't a compliment. The three of us were old friends. Emphasis on the word old. They only saw each other in my presence now. I was the glue holding us together, or pretending to anyway. I don't know why we continued with the charade, unless it was for my sake. I was pretty sentimental about the three of us; we'd celebrated so many wins together and complained about careless plays that cost us, but we weren't just about hockey. I could count on them and they could count on me.

Keelor was great during my parents' split-a constant distraction, never letting me sit around to mope about Dad's sudden departure. At one point Mom had even asked me to stop spending so much time at Keelor's because "we need to take a little time to adjust to this as a family." She'd really p.i.s.sed me off with that. Why couldn't she realize that what I was doing was helping me? Her words certainly didn't help. All they meant was the three of us sitting around realizing we were alone. I spent a lot of time on the phone and IMing Nathan, complaining about those words. He was easier to talk to than Keelor.

The three of us had our ups and downs, like anybody. Nathan had been having a rough time since he'd quit hockey. His dad was this former goalie, barrel of a guy who had no time for other guys that didn't play sports. You can guess how he took it when Nathan gave up hockey, although sometimes I wonder if his dad's att.i.tude was the real reason he packed it in. Sometimes you do things to p.i.s.s people off, even if you don't want to, even if it hurts you. If you figure it hurts them more, it feels worth it.

Most of that is beside the point, which is that I wasn't a "natural predator." I'll admit I was h.o.r.n.y, but if I was really a predator, I'd have done it with Dani and not given it a second thought. Me, I had plenty of second thoughts. Third ones even.

"That's what you think?" I said. "Basically I'm an a.s.shole."

"Now you're offended. I never said that, Nick. You're obviously just not ready for a one-on-one relationship, that's all I'm saying."

"And you're saying it like it's a bad thing." The least judgmental person I knew was judging me; of course I was offended.

"You know Keelor would've taken that comment as a compliment."

"Didn't sound like one," I snapped. "Maybe you're getting confused about who you're talking to. Maybe you want to call Keelor and catch up. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"You know it has." Nathan sighed into the phone. "Look, maybe I'm just jealous."

"What're you talking about?"

"Well..." Nathan paused on the other end of the phone, ma.s.ses of laughter spluttering out from his bedroom TV. "You have all this choice. You could be with Dani or you could be with one of these girls you're always meeting. It's not hard to find someone, is it? All you have to do is walk out the door and bingo, there's someone ready to be your next girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend," I cut in, completely missing the point.

"Yeah, well, whatever. You could if you wanted. You could practically have anybody, Nick."

"You could meet someone." My stomach did one of those roller-coaster dips, antic.i.p.ating his reply. "Everybody likes you."

"Not the people I really like," he said. "I can't even tell them how I feel." More laughter erupted from Nathan's TV, filling the silence. He's trying to figure out if he can tell me, I thought, and I don't have a clue what to say.

"Okay," I said gravely, as though we'd decided something in that moment of silence. "Okay." Let's get this over with.

"That French guy I told you about at work, Xavier," he continued. "Yesterday I overheard him talking to one of the waitresses, and you know what he was saying?"

"What?" My throat dropped deeper into my stomach.

"He was saying, 'That young f.a.ggot from the kitchen keeps following me around, looking lovesick.' But I'm not, Nick." Nathan's voice chafed through the phone line. "I'm not following him around. The truth is I hate his guts. He's full of himself because he's good-looking. And that must be how he knows-he must see me staring at him, because I have been." Nathan whispered those last words. "I f.u.c.king hate him, but I can't help it."

Okay, I thought. So there it is. Out loud for the first time. "It's okay, Nate." My words lined up shoulder to shoulder, firm and steady. "Everybody has their own weird situations, right?" Like Sasha and me miscommunicating in the school hall.

"Yeah, but this is really weird, Nick." He sounded scared. I would be too. This was no small thing he was confessing.

"It's as weird as you let it be." I wasn't used to being on this side of the conversation with Nathan, and I didn't want to let him down. "He doesn't know anything for sure, right? You didn't say anything to him?"

"No, but he's right. I'm attracted to him."

"It doesn't matter," I insisted. "He doesn't know for sure."

"But it's not just him. It's everyone. It's...can I ever like anybody and show it or..." Nathan's voice hollowed into nothing, then began again, so soft that I had to strain to hear. "Do I have to be this neutral, s.e.xless thing all my life?"

Silence stretched out uncomfortably between us. I hadn't thought about it like that, the way other people's restrictions could limit you. Then Nathan, sounding so close he could've been standing right next to me, said, "Did you know?"

"I wasn't sure."

"I was, but I didn't know what to do about it," he said wearily.

"So what're you gonna do now?"

Nathan laughed. "Maybe I'll try the news out on Keelor as a test run for my dad. What do you think?"

"I think Keelor might've guessed too."

"Good," Nathan declared. "That should make it easier."

I never mentioned Sasha or the lake to Nathan. I didn't forget, but I figured no further action was required on my part. Surely Sasha would run into Nathan and ask him herself eventually. Maybe he'd drop by and tell her everything, the way he'd told me, or maybe he'd keep it between the three of us awhile longer. He didn't seem to have decided on a course of action yet. He spent a lot of time at this gay and lesbian teen message board, reading about other people's issues. He told me about a different one every time we talked: the Pakistani guy whose thirteen-year-old sister came to visit him every week although his family had disowned him, an eighteen-year-old girl who was having threesomes because she had more fun with the other girls than with her boyfriend, a fourteen-year-old who'd made out with his best friend when they were drunk and was too scared to talk it out with him.

Keelor confided that the whole thing was freaking him out, that it was "a tough weight for Nathan to be dragging around, but I don't know what to say to him." Personally I didn't think it mattered so much what we said as long as we were listening. I admit some of the details were too much for me, and Nathan appeared to sense that and censor himself, like the time he started describing Xavier-how his gypsy looks and the strong Quebec accent that rolled around in the back of his throat gave Nathan the impression of "s.e.xual ferocity."

"You said he was an a.s.shole," I reminded him.