A Different Blue(98)

used to do in history class. It was all I could do not to laugh right out loud.

“I think Bev has a crush on you, Wilson. I know you're probably used to that by now. Don't you

have a fan club at school? The 'I Heart Wilson' club, or something?”

“Ha, ha, Blue. I have never been all that popular with the girls.”

“Wilson. Don't be an idiot. You were all Manny could talk about the whole first month of

school.”

“Manny is not a girl,” Wilson remarked mildly.

I snickered. “True. But I think I was the only one who wasn't following you around with my

tongue hanging out. It was disgusting. Now even Bev has joined the club. I saw a bumper sticker

on her car that said British Butts Drive Me Nuts.”

[page]Wilson choked on a mouthful of food, laughing, and grabbed at his lemonade to wash it

down. I loved making him laugh, even if it was hazardous to his health.

Wilson recovered and shook his head, denying my claim that he was popular with the ladies. “I

was always the orchestra nerd – whatever you Americans call them..band geeks? I got along

better with my teachers than my classmates. I was the skinny kid with glasses and big feet who

knew all the answers in class and who volunteered to clean the whiteboards after class.”

“Kids actually do that?” I interrupted incredulously.

Wilson just rolled his eyes at me and continued. “I was not a chick magnet at all, especially

with girls like you . . . so the fact that you weren't all that impressed with me last year,

well, that much hasn't changed. And that was always fine with me. Girls were never high on my

list of priorities. Don't misunderstand, I noticed girls like you, but I didn't especially like

girls like you. And girls like you never noticed guys like me.”

“What? Mean skanks, you mean?” I said this mildly, pretending I was kidding. I wasn't. His

words stung, but “girls like me” knew how to roll with the punches.

“No, Blue.” He shook his head in exasperation. “That's not what I meant. Beautiful girls,

hard girls, girls who grew up way too fast and who would chew up chaps like me up and spit them

back out.”

“Yeah. Like I said. Mean skanks.” I pushed my plate away and slurped my drink loudly,

indicating it was all gone. I stood up, communicating the end of our conversation and the end to

our “cozy meal.” Wilson just stared up at me, and I could tell I'd made him angry. Too bad. I

smiled at him slowly, sarcastically, showing lots of teeth. What had been a lighthearted

conversation had suddenly take on a different tone. He ran his hands through his hair and pushed

his plate away as well. He tossed a couple bills on the table and stood. He walked toward the

register, away from me, dismissing me. He paid for both of our meals and left the cafe. I waved

at Beverly, who blew me a little kiss.

“See ya in the morning, Blue. Tell Wilson I said cheerio.”

Wilson was waiting for me outside, his hands shoved in his pockets and his face raised toward

the sunset. One of my favorite things about the desert were the sunsets. The sky above the

lowlying western hills cast pink and purple ripples up into the descending night sky. Maybe it

was because there was nothing to obscure the view – Las Vegas sat down in the valley, and

Boulder City sat higher, to the southeast, around the bend of the eastern hills – but the