Here So Far Away(24)

Lisa and I went outside to sit in the sun for the last few minutes before the buzzer. The school was basically built on an anthill, sand breaking up the grass and giving the back fields the look of a nubby afghan. I rubbed my finger against a warm, grainy patch. It felt like a dying ember of summer.

“Is your play proposal ready?” I asked.

“Almost. Promise you’ll read it before I hand it in? God, I bet there will be a lot of submissions.”

“Miss Aker’ll love it, and if she doesn’t . . .”

“You’ll kill her?”

“Sure, murder. Maybe a stern word.”

Lisa unzipped my knapsack and started digging around in it. “I have to tell you something. Before you hear it from someone else.”

“Whaddya need?”

“Cigarettes.”

“I don’t smoke.”

“You do when you’re stressed and you think no one’s watching.”

“Must be why I have the tiny, shriveled, black heart. Outside pocket.”

She lit a cig—slowly, like she was buying time—and blew a tendril of smoke out of the side of her mouth. “George, I kind of told Keith something about the kissing thing with Joshua. Something like, that it didn’t go so well.”

I still hadn’t eaten, and now my stomach clenched like a fist. Pulling her arm toward me, I took a drag from the cigarette and another. “I didn’t want that to get around,” I said.

“I know.”

“He’s friends with the Tongue.”

“I know.”

“Do you think he— Oh, shit. He told him, didn’t he?” She nodded. “Is that why Joshua wet his pants at the food court?”

“I’m so sorry. Are you mad? Dumb question. Of course you’re mad.”

“Probably not as mad as Joshua,” I said slowly. “He’s the one who got his feelings hurt.”

“I was trying to help, honestly. Keith was so mad at you for leading Joshua on—”

“I didn’t lead him on.”

“You didn’t say anything that made him think he had a chance?”

“Like when I said he was bile-colored?”

She sniffed. My story wasn’t passing the smell test, but the prosecution was light on tangible evidence.

“What if I accidentally made him think I was into him?” I said. “Can’t a person change her mind?”

“Sure, but what turned you off . . . I thought if he knew it was a bitty thing, totally fixable. So I mentioned it to Keith. And then I guess I kept talking.”

“About the kiss?”

“About Leon, and those other guys. To explain! I didn’t know he’d tell Joshua. Or that Joshua would get back together with Christina at the shack party. Or that she would . . .”

“That she would what?”

“Tell everyone else.”

I put my head between my knees and said—appropriately—to my crotch, “Oh my god, a few days ago I was ungettable, and now I’m the school slut.”

The buzzer went off. Neither of us moved.

“I’m so sorry,” Lisa said again.

“Please stop saying sorry.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I dunno. That you’ll stop telling Keith my secrets?”

“You don’t expect me to lie when he asks something directly, do you? He asked me straight out, Who is this Leon person? and I’m like, Leon who? and he’s like, The guy George said she’s hung up on.”

“Why can’t you say that you don’t want to talk about it?” I sat up again. “Oh, Lise, you’re not becoming one of those girls who would choose a guy over your friend.”

“When have I done that?”

“Well, you’re talking about Noel all of a sudden.”

“So? Aurora was your plan, not mine. You decided it was perfect for all of us, and it might be, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Funny how you seemed sure before you started going with Keith.”

She pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend. Why is it okay if I follow you, but not if I follow him?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m always standing up for you, Lise. Always. And you’re supposed to stand up for me. But it’s like . . . it’s almost like it’s more important to you to be popular with the jocks and the Elevens.”

“You know what your problem is? You’ve never had a boyfriend, so you don’t know what it takes to be in a relationship.”

“Please! You have a new boyfriend every year, and every year he’s the one. Until the next one. Jesus, do you think you’re going to be dating Keith for more than two minutes after graduation? The guy who didn’t offer you a tomato sandwich? There are millions of other guys out there—billions.”

“So you don’t like Keith, is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying you’ll be able to do a lot better than him when we get out of this place, maybe some theater guy who can do the directing for you while you grow a backbone.”

There it was. The un-take-back-able thing.

Lisa ground her cigarette into a bare patch of sand and stood up. “Or maybe I could do better than you,” she said.