You Know Me Well(43)

“Until, of course, she leaves the circus and comes to town.”

“Something like that.”

We sit there silent for a moment. I’m sure Katie’s thinking about the way the night ended, and I’m not sure I want to speculate about boys anymore. Because it raises the whole question of what I’d do if I actually found the right one.

“Look!” Katie says. “Here comes a very special guest! My ex!”

It’s Quinn Ross who’s walking over—Quinn Ross, Ryan’s big poetry rival and the editor of our school’s “underground” literary magazine.

“You dated Quinn Ross?”

“Yes. In third grade. For two weeks. It turned us both gay.”

“Hey, Katiegirl,” Quinn sings when he gets to us. “And hello, Markus-oh-really-us. School is wrapping up, and you two look like you’re laying it down. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your gallery thing last night—I’ve been volunteering down at The Angel Project in the Castro. It’s a pretty big week for us, fundraising-wise. Let all the people come and party for Pride—when they leave, there will still be homeless teens, and they’ll still need help. Hey—you should come tonight. I’m hosting a poetry slam.”

“Maybe,” Katie hedges. “There are a few things we have to attend to first.”

I’m hoping this means she’s going to see Violet. But I don’t say anything with Quinn there. He is an ex, after all.

“Well, I hope to see you at the slam,” he tells Katie. Then he turns to me and says, “And I really hope to see you.”

“Um … sure?” I say.

Quinn laughs to himself and walks away.

“I’m not sure I like your exes,” I tell Katie.

“Quinn? He’s harmless. All snark and no bite.” She looks down at her phone. “I hate to say it, but we should probably head in. It would be lame to fail out in June because of attendance.”

“Are you going to call her?” I ask.

“Yes. No. One of the two.”

“Promise me. By the time we meet back here after school, you’ll have communicated with her in some way.”

“No. I can’t promise you. Because I don’t want to break any promise I make to you, and I’m not really sure that’s a promise I can keep.”

“You should call her. You should try to explain.”

“I know. I will. Unless she doesn’t want to talk. I wouldn’t blame her for that.”

“No, but you’ll blame yourself.”

She slides off the car. Gets her bag from the backseat. Says “I know” one more time, then heads off into school.

*

Ryan finds me right before lunch.

“This isn’t cool,” he says.

I’m at my locker. Caught.

“What isn’t cool?” I ask dumbly.

“The silent treatment. The look of terror on your face right now. The way you’re acting like this is all my fault.”

“I never said it was all your fault.”

“You might as well have.” He stops, stares down at the floor, then stares back up at me. “You disappeared last night.”

“I was right out back. If you’d looked for me, you would have found me.”

“But you didn’t want me to look for you, did you?”

Now it’s my turn to stare down at the floor, be honest. “No.”

“Exactly. Not cool.”

He stops, and I know it’s because people are passing us in the hall. People who could hear.

When it’s safe, he goes on. “I saw you talking to Quinn this morning. That was a bit of a surprise.”

“It was nothing. He’s Katie’s ex.”

“Well, I’m sure he told you about his poetry slam thing.” He pulls a flier out of his pocket and unfolds it. Queer Youth Speak Out, it says at the top. “Not very subtle. They even printed it out on pink paper, just in case you didn’t pick up on the fact that it was gay.” He holds it to his nose and inhales. “Mmm … smells like Whitman.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you going to read?” I ask, even though I know the answer’s going to be no. Ryan’s gay poems live in a very private place.

“Maybe.”

Oh. “Maybe?”

“What may be, may be.” He smiles. “You’ll just have to show up and see.”

What is he telling me? I don’t know what he’s telling me.

“Taylor will be there, and I think some of his friends are going to be there. You should join us. If I go through with it, I want my cheering section to be bigger than Quinn’s.”

I want to be in control. I don’t want him to see what I’m really feeling. But my walls aren’t that high when it comes to him. The truth flies right over.

“Well, if Taylor’s going to be there, you don’t really need me, do you?” I spit out.

And Ryan’s walls must be low, too, because he grabs my arm, right there in the hall, right where anyone could turn the corner and see.

“I’m only going to say this to you once, okay? I like Taylor. I’m excited about Taylor. I may want to date Taylor, if everything goes well. But I have known Taylor for a total of about five seconds, while I have known you since the mountains were made and the rivers were formed. I know we’re in a weird place right now, but I want you to step out of it and be there for me. Taylor is a boy, and you are my best friend. Taylor is a date, and you are my calendar. Understood?”