Alice Alone (7 page)
When her footsteps sounded on the porch, I heard voices and realized that Elizabeth was with her. They’d come together to let me know that Patrick was breaking up with me, to be with me in my time of need. I didn’t
want
to be pitied. I didn’t
want
to be sad. Yet here I was, and the minute I opened the door, I started crying again.
Instantly Elizabeth put her arms around me, but Pamela was saying, “Al, it was a joke! That’s all it was, just a joke.”
“Well, if th-that was a joke, I don’t get it,” I sobbed. “How long have you known something was going on?”
“I didn’t know anything until Pamela came over and got me and said you were upset about a picture,” said Elizabeth. “
What
picture?”
We were an odd-looking lot. Elizabeth had obviously just gotten home from Mass, because she was wearing a dark green dress. Pamela had changed to shorts, even though it was only sixty degrees out, and I was still dressed in the clothes I’d worn yesterday. Wordlessly I led them into the living room and handed Elizabeth the photo.
She stared at it, then at Pamela. “Where was
I
when they took this picture?” she asked.
“I don’t know. You and Alice were off in the kitchen somewhere, and Karen was just being … well, Karen. She was telling us how you could make pictures lie so it looked like something was happening that wasn’t, and she’d seen someone take a picture at a party where it looked like a couple was kissing when they weren’t, and Penny said, ‘Let’s try it!’ and chose Patrick. It was supposed to be a
joke,
Alice!”
Pamela was calling me Alice again, so I knew she was serious. But the words “chose Patrick” rang in my ears. Why not Mark or Brian or Donald or Justin? Why did she choose a guy who was actually going with someone? And then, the question that hurt even more, why had Patrick agreed to do it?
“Look!” Pamela explained. “They weren’t even touching. I helped arrange them.”
“You?”
I cried.
Pamela looked chagrined. “Well, if they’re going to do it, wouldn’t you rather have one of your friends calling the shots to be sure it’s legit? We had them arranged so that their lips were two inches apart, their hands weren’t touching each other, but from across the room, in the camera, it looked like a real kiss.”
“That’s a scream,” I wept. “I never saw anything so funny in my life.”
“Forgive and forget,” Elizabeth said quickly, trying to be helpful.
When Pamela went upstairs to get her sweater, Elizabeth said, “Patrick probably couldn’t help himself. All the guys are nuts about Penny. It’s just hormones, that’s all it is.”
That was supposed to make me feel better?
When Pamela came back down, we went out to sit in the sunshine on the front steps. We could hear the quiet
scrape, scrape
of Dad’s rake at the side of the house.
“This was supposed to be a beautiful September,” I said ruefully. “I wanted it to be an autumn I’d always remember—my first year of high school. I’ll remember it, all right.”
“Seventy times seven,” said Elizabeth.
“What? What are we doing now, the multiplication tables?”
“That’s how many times you’re supposed to forgive someone.”
“Great!” I said. “Patrick gets to kiss her four hundred and ninety times more.” I guess I’m pretty good at arithmetic when it’s important.
“He didn’t
kiss
her!” Pamela insisted.
No, he hadn’t kissed her, but he’d been two inches away from her lips, I thought. He had smelled the scent of her hair, looked into her eyes… . If he hadn’t kissed her, I’ll bet he’d wanted to. I leaned back on my elbows. “She’s like a magnet,” I said. “What is it about small, petite girls, anyway? The boys go crazy over them, and it makes the rest of us feel like elephants.”
“I don’t feel like an elephant. You’re exaggerating,” said Pamela. “And you have to admit she’s a lot of fun. You’d better take it as a joke, Al, because everyone else is.”
“I know. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. I guess I just wanted it to be the perfect party, and this was the part that wasn’t so perfect,” I said.
“I’ve got to go have lunch,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll see you later, guys.”
We watched her cross the street.
“I have to go, too,” said Pamela. “Dad’s taking me to an Orioles game.”
I glanced over at her. “Sounds like you’re getting along better!”
“We’re making ‘a conscious effort,’ as Dad puts it. Anyway, it’ll get me out of the house when Mom calls. She always calls on Sunday afternoons, and I don’t much feel like talking to her. Then I’ve got a ton of homework to do.”
“Me, too,” I told her. I’d thought the homework in junior high was awful, but it was nothing like what they give you in high school.
I sat on the porch awhile longer and let the sun warm my legs as Pamela went back down the block. Finally I heard Lester in the kitchen, making something gross in the blender, so I went back inside. He was pouring some kind of skim milk/banana/oatmeal mixture into a glass, and he seemed only half awake.
“Shut up,” he said, before I even opened my mouth.
“Happy birthday, dear Les-ter … ,” I warbled off-key.
“Oh, geez, don’t ruin it,” he said.
“I just wanted you to know that Dad and I are taking you out to dinner tonight, and as my present to you, I’m doing all the dishes this week, even though you’re on kitchen duty.”
That perked him up a little. “My laundry, too?”
“Don’t push it,” I said. I watched him glug
down the concoction, then stick an English muffin in the toaster. He was wearing an old pair of boxer shorts with lemons on them, and a ripped T-shirt.
I felt like crying again, but I didn’t. “Lester,” I said. “If there was this girl you had really, really liked for a long time—”
“Don’t start,” he said.
“No, I need to know. And let’s say there was this party and all your friends were there, and it was going on all night, everybody having a good time …”
Lester reached into the fridge and took out the butter carton.
“… and the next morning you found a Polaroid picture somebody had taken of”—I didn’t want to say “kissing” because Lester probably wouldn’t be bothered by a kiss—“of this girl lying naked on the couch with a naked guy on top of her, and—”
“What?” Lester yelled, dropping the butter. “… and you found out it was all trick photography to make them
look
like they were having sex, but they weren’t, would … ?”
Lester grabbed me by one arm. “Who was it? Pamela? Jill?”
I shook my head. “Nobody.”
“Al, did anyone get naked last night while I was sleeping?”
“No.”
“Did anyone have sex with their clothes
on?
”
“No.”
“Then will you please get out of my face and let me enjoy my breakfast in peace?”
“Lester, really! I need your advice!” I said, sitting down across from him, and told him about the photo of Patrick and Penny.
“So if it’s all a joke, what’s the big deal?” he asked.
“It
hurts,
Lester!”
“Maybe so, but the best thing you can do is laugh and forget it.”
“I can’t.”
“Okay, then. Get on the bus tomorrow and claw Patrick’s eyes out. That’ll really endear you to him. C’mon, Al. Snap out of it.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, and went upstairs.
For a while I managed to put the picture out of my mind, and worked on a paper for history. I went back down around two and ate part of a sandwich Dad had left and some pretzels, but when I started to go up again and saw the sofa where Patrick had been sitting with Penny, where everyone had been whispering, it started the feelings all over again.
I lay for a long time on my bed staring up at the ceiling, at the cobweb that was strung between my
light fixture and the wall. It was beginning to collect dust, and looked like a cable on the Brooklyn Bridge. Was Karen trying to start a fight between Patrick and me? I wondered. Was Penny trying to come between us?
I heard the doorbell ring. Lester’s footsteps in the downstairs hall.
“Hey, Al! It’s Patrick,” he called.
Patrick! For a moment I didn’t move. I wouldn’t go down. I
couldn’t!
Then I realized how weird it would seem if I didn’t. I leaped up and yelled, “Be down in a sec.” I brushed my teeth and put on a little eye makeup so my eyes wouldn’t look puffy, then went downstairs. My smile felt about as false as Jill’s eyelashes or Karen’s fingernails.
“Hi,” I said. Even my voice sounded fake. It sounded as though it came from the tiny chest of a Barbie doll.
“Hi,” said Patrick. “Want to walk over to the school or something? Get some ice cream?”
The school is the elementary school nearby, where our gang still gathers sometimes. We sit on the rubber swings, talking to each other, whirling the swings around, scaring all the little kids away.
“Well, I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m sort of busy. We’re taking Lester out to dinner tonight, and I’ve got all this homework.”
“So have I, but I’ve been at it all morning. Need a break,” he said. A lock of red hair hung down over the left side of Patrick’s forehead, and he seemed to have grown another two inches since the day before. He playfully jiggled my arm. “C’mon. It’ll do you good.”
“Okay,” I said.
We went outside. Dad was still at it, transplanting azalea bushes. He always seemed to be tinkering with the yard or the house since he came back from England. Getting things ready for Miss Summers, of course.
“Going for a walk, Dad,” I called.
He waved and bent over the azaleas again. Patrick and I started our typical slow walk down the sidewalk, his arm around my waist, but it didn’t seem like old times anymore. Usually I lean against him in an easy, comfortable manner, but this time my body resisted, and I discovered I was walking with my arms folded in front of my chest, as though I were cold.
Patrick looked down at me. “My, aren’t
we
friendly!” he said.
I managed a smile. “Sorry. Got homework on my mind,” I lied.
“Algebra?”
“That’s later. I haven’t even started it yet.”
“Want me to stick around and help?”
“No, I’ll manage. Lester’s here if I’ve got any questions.”
We walked a little farther. “Great party last night,” Patrick said. “Everyone had a good time.”
“Evidently.” Why is it that even when you
know
what not to say, you end up saying it?
Patrick gave my waist a little tug. “What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
There was no use in pretending. “I found a photo of you and Penny, Patrick. That’s what’s the matter.”
“Didn’t anyone explain about that picture?” he asked, with not a trace of guilt.
“Well, you certainly didn’t.”
“It was all a pose, Alice! We weren’t even touching! We were just horsing around for laughs.”
“Ho-ho-ho.”
“Karen was going to show it to you, and then you put in another video and I guess we just forgot.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to tell me about it?”
“I
forgot
about it! Why are you getting so upset?”
I felt stupid and silly, yet still betrayed. “I don’t know. How would you feel if after a party at your place, you found a picture of me kissing Justin or Donald Sheavers?”
“We weren’t kissing!”
“I know it, but—”
“If I found a picture like that, I’d probably pick up the phone and ask you about it.”
“So I’m asking. How come Penny picked you?”
“I don’t know. I just went along for the ride.” Patrick let his arm drop, and a space developed between us there on the sidewalk. “What is this? The third degree? We were just having fun. Isn’t that allowed?”
I felt awful then. Deserted. “Of course, Patrick! It’s just that everyone seems so secretive about it, as though there’s something between you and Penny I’m not supposed to know about.”
“There’s nothing secret. She’s just fun, that’s all.” And when I didn’t answer, he said, “Hey! She’s not you, Alice.”
“I wonder why that doesn’t help.” I knew I shouldn’t have said that.
Patrick thrust his hands in his pockets, and we walked a few minutes in silence. The
thrub
of my heart seemed to echo in my ears.
“We’re not married, you know,” Patrick said finally, without smiling. “I think I’m still allowed to have friends.”
“Of course you are,” I said, beginning to regret the whole conversation. “I guess I’m acting dumb about it.”
I thought he’d put his arm around me then, glad to be forgiven, but he didn’t.
“I … I don’t want you to think you have to have my permission every time you want to talk to another girl,” I added.
He didn’t answer for a while. We just walked on slowly, a foot apart, but finally he moved closer and then he put one arm around my shoulder. “I’m going to be graduating a year before you do,” he said. “I’ll be away at college. I’ll meet new people, and so will you. We’ve both got to be free to make friends, Alice.”
I could feel tears gathering behind my eyelids, but I managed to hold them back. “I know,” I said. And then, trying to be funny, I added, “but remember our date for New Year’s Eve when we’re both twenty-one. You’ll call me, you said.”
He just laughed. “I’ll put it on the calendar,” he promised.
When I got on the bus the next morning, Patrick was sitting with the guys in the last row, and Penny was up on her knees, leaning over the back of the seat, talking to Jill and Karen.
“Hi, everybody!” I said, my smile molded onto my face as though set in concrete.
“Hey, Al! Great party!” Mark called.
Some of the girls turned then, Penny included.
“Yeah, we had a great time!” said Jill.
“Lester’s so
funny!
” said Penny. “Was he wearing any of the shorts we gave him?” Karen asked.
I managed a laugh. “I don’t keep track of his underwear,” I said.
The sophomores, juniors, and seniors cast us curious glances, and Elizabeth giggled. Penny and Jill and Karen laughed, too. Then it was like we were all friends again, and Penny pulled me down
on the seat next to her to see the little rosebud tattoo she got on her wrist, nonpermanent, of course, and Elizabeth squeezed in beside us.
