Since it was the worst day of my life so far, I’ll
describe
Wednesday in the shortest terms possible. First, there was the
bus
ride to school. I missed my bus and had to walk three blocks to
catch
another one, and when I got on that one, there were no seats
left.
There is nothing worse than having to stand at the front of the bus all
the way to school. Being forced to go to school is bad enough,
but
having to stand up all the way there is adding insult to injury.
Things at school weren’t much of an
improvement. I flunked a math
test I had studied over an hour for. Then I lost my social
studies
homework and had to do it all over again in study hall. My
English
teacher assigned me a book report on UFO’s
Explained
by Phillip J. Klass. If you believe in UFO’s—and like believing
in
UFO’s—don’t ever read this book. It’s a totally logical,
scientific
investigation of various UFO cases that points out logical, scientific
explanations. All of the famous UFO cases are in this book, and
he
solves them all. It’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever read.
In science class, Mr. Bean gave us the straight
facts about outer
space that gave us a new perspective on things. For instance, if
the earth was the size of a marble, the sun would be a football field
away
and nine feet tall. He also told us that there are approximately
two
hundred and fifty billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy, and one
hundred billion other galaxies in the universe.
This convinced me that life had to exist on other
planets. But had
they ever really visited us? Or were the interstellar distances
just
too vast? Or even worse, did that that eliminate my chances of
being
abducted by a UFO in case I didn’t make it as an astronaut?
To prevent my day from being a total waste of time,
Sylvia and
Jessica took me to the senior lounge. Normally, freshmen aren’t
allowed to set foot in the place, so I felt privileged to be
there.
Jessica was allowed in because she was on the National Honor
Society.
With those kinds of requirements, you would expect the place to be
furnished like a nightclub, but all it had was an old couch and a few
chairs. There weren’t even any windows.
We talked about my brother Curt for some strange
reason. Jessica
and Sylvia seemed only mildly interested in the things I told them, but
whenever I tried to change the subject, they’d ask me another question
about Curt. It got pretty sickening. I mean, it’s bad
enough I have
to live with the guy. Do I have to be his press secretary, too?
Later that day, I got in an argument with Gina
Kenickie when I
found out she stole my social studies homework. She got mad and
pushed
me down a short flight of stairs. If it weren’t for the kid I
landed
on, I would have gotten seriously splattered. He was Allan
Matthews, a
tall, lanky junior with short blond hair and glasses. He had been
my
tutor a couple times throughout the year, so it didn’t bother him that
it was me that wiped him out. I told him it was all Gina
Kenickie’s
fault, and he said he’d report her to the principal. Then he
sauntered
off down the hall with a slight limp and told his friends that he had
just been hit by “an Unidentified Flying Teenybopper.”
Like any other day, I couldn’t wait to get out of
that crazy
place. The ride home was uneventful and safe, but getting off the
bus
was another disaster. I dropped my bookbag in a mud puddle and
wiped
out my math book, my calculator, and my science notes. Then a car
splashed me when I tried to fish them out.
That night, Sylvia talked me into leaving the safety
of my bedroom
to go with her to the mall. We spent about four hours just
wandering
around and shopping. It was the first time anybody besides my
mother
showed an interest in the clothes I wore. We picked out all kinds
of
strange things that Sylvia said would make me look older, like makeup,
jewelry, and hairspray, and I paid for them with my mom’s credit card.
Over an ice cream sundae, I brought up the subject
of Casey Winslow. “How long did it take them to make that video?”
“Not long. About two months.”
“How did they ever do it so fast?”
Sylvia thought for a moment. “A friend of
theirs makes home movies
all the time. I forget his name. Anyway, he was making a
sci-fi movie
and needed a soundtrack, so he went to Casey and A. J.. Casey talked
him into turning it into a Katzenjammer video with them as the
stars.
Since he usually ends up playing most of the roles himself, this guy
agreed.”
“I always wanted to make a movie,” I told her.
“Actually, it was much more complex than them just
asking to be the
stars. Your brother Curt and his friends were supposed to be the
original actors. They raised the money for it, built the sets,
and
even sewed the costumes for it!”
“How come they weren’t in the video?”
“Because Casey paid him to tell Curt his camera was
broken.
Instead of buying another one, Curt decided to go with the space
station skit instead.”
“That doesn’t sound too fair.”
“It’s like devious, y’know?”
“Yeah, but it worked! Did you see the look on my
brother’s face when he saw it?”
We both broke out in a fit of laughter.
Sylvia’s laugh sounded so
bizarre that everybody else in the restaurant started laughing, too.
“By the way,” I said. “What is Casey going to
do when he gets out
of school?” It was an innocent enough question, but as soon as I
asked
it, Sylvia stopped laughing like a lawnmower running out of gas.
Oops.
“Casey? Not too damn much.”
“He’s not going to college?”
“He hasn’t even applied.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks the band is going to take off by
then. He’s been
sending demo tapes to record companies. He thinks they’re going
to
sign him to a record contract any day now. High hopes, huh?”
“He might make it. He’s pretty good.”
“Oh, he’s talented, all right. Talented at
frying his brain and acting stupid.”
“He always seemed pretty smart to me.”
“He definitely has the potential. For some
reason, he’d rather act
like Cheech and Chong. It’s sad, really. Drugs are his
life. He
worships the stuff.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Not all the time. Usually I don’t mind.
I get high once in a
while myself. It’s just that he does it so much he probably
doesn’t
remember what he’s like without it. He’s stoned almost every
minute
he’s awake.”
“Why?”
“He always says ’time isn’t wasted if you’re wasted
all the time,’ whatever that means.”
“That’s a strange philosophy.”
“It sure is. If Casey makes it as a rock
musician, who knows what could happen? He could be the next Jimi
Hendrix.”
I thought about what she was saying. Was she
trying to warn me off
about Casey? Did she know I was in love with him? That was
impossible—I didn’t tell anybody!
Maybe she was just trying to talk herself into
breaking up with
him. Maybe I was just sort of a springboard. I decided to
play along
to see if I was right.
“Remember when you said you loved Casey but you
didn’t know if love was enough? What did you mean?”
Sylvia’s eyebrow’s perked up. “What?”
“Remember when we were talking at my house?”
“Huh...” She looked away for a moment, racking
her brain. “I
don’t know, I just sort of say things without thinking. I’m
stupid
like that.”
“You’re not stupid! You’re one of the smartest
people I know.”
“That says a lot. You only know a half a dozen
people.”
I felt my cheeks getting red. “Yeah, but
they’re all real smart.”
Sylvia let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,
Crystal. Really, I am. I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I feel terrible. I shouldn’t be snapping
at you just because I feel lousy. I’m really sorry. You’re
a great kid.”
“It’s okay.”
“See what I mean? I never think!”
“If you don’t want me to ask you about your
boyfriend, I won’t.
It’s just that I never had a boyfriend before and I want to know what
it’s like.”
“It’s not what you think. In fact, that’s what
love is all about:
it’s never what you think. If it ever was, it wouldn’t be love.”
I knew better than to ponder that bit of
wisdom. “Right. Want to
go see a movie? There’s a new one that George Lucas
executive-produced
playing here in the mall.”
Sylvia looked uneasy. “How about tomorrow
night? I’ll treat.”
“What’s wrong with tonight?”
“I want to look for Casey.”
And look we did, for almost two hours. Each
place we checked
turned out empty. Sylvia really got down on herself for not being
able
to find him. As much as I appreciated the tour, I didn’t enjoy
hearing
her dump on herself. She was somebody I respected and
admired. Still,
there wasn’t’ anything I could say to make her feel better. What
did I
know about solving other people’s problems?
When we finally got home that night, I went straight
to bed. I
just lay there, thinking to myself, until I heard voices coming from
the living room. I got up to look out the door and saw Sylvia and
Curt
sitting in the living room having a casual chat. From the look on
Sylvia’s face, she didn’t share Casey’s opinions of my brother.
An interesting development, I thought to
myself. Sylvia and Curt. What if they...?
Naw. That was impossible.
Or was it?
