Break(13)

Crap. I’ve got to break tonight.

But I can give her a few hours first. Maybe finish what I started?

It’s delirious thinking, but it’s the only kind of thinking I can manage when I’m with Charlotte.

I say, “Absolutely.”

We kiss, and I taste her. I don’t love her—I can only muster that for Jess and occasionally Will, and when you claim “love” about a girl it’s stupid and ephemeral and everyone knows it. It’s like a big joke.

Plus, she’s not my girlfriend.

No girlfriend could ever be this good.





eleven


MY PHONE JINGLES AS I HEAD TO CHARLOTTE’S car after school. It’s Jesse, and he’s not feeling well.

I say, “Not feeling well or feeling seriously awful?”

“Not feeling well. I think I’m okay.”

“Breathe.”

He does, and I listen, and he sounds fine. But how sure can you be over a cell phone?

He says, “It’s nothing major. Don’t freak out on me. Probably just the pollen.”

It’s practically November. “Jesse.”


“Look, I’m honestly fine. I’ll call if it gets bad. I just wanted to tell you I’m skipping practice and going home.”

“You’re skipping practice.”

“Don’t make this a big deal.”

I close my eyes because it’s too hard to look at Charlotte on the edge of her car, her curves just begging for me to come and put my hands on them. “Do you need me to come home?”

“No. No no no. You have plans with Charlotte, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t break those. Mom will watch me.”

Yeah, okay. “I won’t be gone too long. Stay away from the baby.”

“I know, Jonah. God.”

“And call in half an hour. No matter what.”

“Okay.”

I hang up and climb into Charlotte’s passenger seat. “Sorry. Duty called.”

“Duty?”

“Duty, thy name is Jesse.”

“Right.” She starts the car and honks her horn until the pack of sophomores gets away from her back bumper. “He all right?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. He said he wasn’t feeling well, and you never know what that means.”

“Do you need to go home?”

“No, he’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” She looks at me. “I know how you are with him. If you want to go home, it’s okay.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to be home. I want to be with my not-girlfriend.”

She slides on her sunglasses and hits the gas.

After-school trips with Charlotte mean trailing her through her house visits. She’s a pet-sitter, and every day she’s got about a thousand neglected animals to feed and pet and bathe. It’s kind of tedious, but it’s with Charlotte. And I don’t usually get to spend time around animals, so . . .

The first house is one I’ve visited before; it’s brown brick and all the furniture is plush. I sit on the couch and pet one of the Siamese while Charlotte fills the water bowls.

The clock hits three o’clock and makes a noise like a wind chime.

“Going away for Christmas?” she asks, random.

“Like always. Somewhere cold and dry. My entire life is about what’s good for lungs.”

“So I know it’s early to talk about, but my parents wanted me to invite you to help decorate our tree. If you want.”

“That’s sweet. But kind of relationshipy for me, babe.”

She comes in to the living room, dusting her hands on her jeans. “I just figured you’re not much used to Christmas trees.”

“Nah, not really. I probably had one my first Christmas.” I shrug. “Before Jess was born.”

We’ve got a big aluminum one, but I’ve seen Naomi’s trees, so I can’t pretend it’s the same. It’s okay, though.

Charlotte sits on my lap and holds the cat.

Later we walk with these three Pomeranians around the block and Charlotte stops, ties the leashes to a lamppost, and we kiss. Gently.

“Do you think—” I say, going for her zipper.

She holds my hand. “Shh.”

“But—”

My phone rings. Shit. I think I was actually getting somewhere.

It’s Jesse and screaming Will. “I’m totally fine,” Jess says.

Over the phone, Will’s especially strangled and grainy. I wince. Nothing like a baby to scare an erection away.

I say, “Totally?”

“Yeah. I feel great. I was an idiot to skip practice.”

I hang up and stare at Charlotte. She shrugs and reclaims the leashes.

When I get home, I change clothes before Jess can sneeze at me.

“Basketball?” he asks.

“All right.”

I last about five minutes against him, and he keeps going and going like a boy possessed.





twelve


NAOMI PULLS UP AT AROUND SEVEN. I’M CRASHED on the lawn, watching Jess take practice shots in the dark. I see the glint of a six-pack in her backseat.