Ask the Passengers (12 page)

I CAN’T KEEP THIS SECRET
from Dee, too.
That’s the thing that hits me as I drive to work.

So when Dee asks me a few times, “Why are you so tired on Sundays?” I tell her that I’ll tell her later, which isn’t lying, so that’s good.

When we walk into the parking lot after work, I say, “What are you doing for the next hour?”

She shrugs and shakes her head.

I tell her to drive to Freedom Lake and that I’ll meet her there in ten minutes.

I call Kristina on my way to the lake to make sure this will be okay with her. “First, I’m sorry again about not telling you
sooner. Second, I want to tell Dee everything so she can come with us next weekend. Is that okay with you guys?”

She pauses. I know she’s having the same conversation with herself that I’ve had with myself about how
even one person
might tell, and that would be just enough to ruin everything.

“It’s fine,” she says finally, but I hear something in her voice that sounds like it might not actually be fine.

“And asking her to come with us to Atlantis next Saturday. That’s cool, right?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Next Saturday. Look—before we go out, I promised Jeff another date.”

“Ughhhh. I told you I wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“I know. But Justin and I will be there, and Jeff will cover for you again, and that’s good, right?”

“You promised.”

“I know, but the kid is lovesick, dude. Just once more? It’s the perfect cover. And Claire is buying it and everything.”

“Ughhhh. Okay. Good-bye!”

“Make Dee come with us next week!” she says before I hang up.

It’s official.

I am about to make two worlds collide.

Dee is on the phone when I park and walk up to her driver’s side window with the picnic blanket draped over my arm. She
gives me the wait finger, and I lean up against the back of the car until she’s done. She looks angry when she hangs up.

“Whoa. Who was that?” I ask.

“Jessie,” she says. Ellis’s teammate and running partner, and Dee’s old friend from hockey camp.

“What’d she say that made you look like that?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says. “Starts with a
J
and ends with
eff
?” I realize that Jessie heard that Jeff and I double-dated last night. “Now I understand why you’re so tired on Sunday mornings. Shit!”

“Ughhhhh. This Jeff guy. Jesus!” I say.

She perks up a little at seeing my genuine annoyance at the mere mention of his name.

“Look. I have a shitload of stuff to tell you,” I say. “When we’re done, you’ll understand all of it. Even this stupid
date
.” I bring my fingers up to air-quote the word
date
, and the blanket slides down into the crack of my elbow. I start up the trail to the clearing, and she follows me. We’re both still in kitchen garb. I’m pretty sure I smell like shrimp veins.

When we reach our favorite picnic area, I spread the blanket out and lie on my back. “I’m not sure where to start. I mean, first, you have to promise everything stays between us.”

“Duh.”

“No. I mean it. This has to stay between us,” I say. “Even if we break up or hate each other one day or whatever,” I say.

“Break up? Are we in a relationship?”

I put my middle finger up so she can see it. “Promise.”

“I promise,” she says.

“Okay. First I want you to go out with me next Saturday night.”

“Uh, with or without Jeff Garnet?”

“Without. We’d be going after that
date
.” I use air quotes again.

“That’s called two-timing where I come from,” she says. But she’s smiling, so I know she isn’t mad anymore. “Hold up. Did you say
after
? Like—how late?”

“From about eleven to two thirty?”

“That’s late.” She stops and realizes and love-smacks me on the arm. “Hey! Is that why you’re so tired today?”

“I would call this exhausted,” I say. “Thanks to Atlantis.”

She turns her head to look at me and makes me turn my head, too. “Are you kidding me? You went to Atlantis?” Then she looks concerned. “By yourself?”

“With friends.”

“Now you have gay friends?”

“Actually, a long time before I met you,” I say.

“You’re full of surprises,” she says. “Do I know them?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“And?”

“And here’s the thing you have to never tell anyone. You still promise?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Between us?”

“Oh, my God, just tell me.”

I take a deep breath. “Kristina and Justin.”

She totally doesn’t get it. Blank stare.

I say, “Kristina
and Donna
and Justin
and Chad
.”

“Who the hell is Chad?”

“Chad is Justin Lampley’s boyfriend.”

She sits up and stares at me. “You mean Kristina Houck? Your friend?”

“Yep.”

“Wow,” she says. I watch a plane fly west above me—just a small sparkle in the sky. I send my love to it just for a second because I feel guilty leaving all those people up there all alone.

“But I hear all these rumors about those two!” she goes on. “How she’s into all sorts of weird stuff. Last week I heard she likes to bark when she does it.”

I raise my hand. “Guilty. She made me spread that one. All I had to do was tell Shelly Anne, and my work was done. Shelly Anne has a three-district-wide spread.”

She says, “Jessie always says she’s like the hometown girl over there.” She takes another minute to grasp it. “People would freak out if they knew this, wouldn’t they?”

“True. So? Saturday? Will you come?”

“Isn’t your curfew midnight or something?”

“That’s where Jeff comes in.” I roll my eyes. “Apparently, my mother takes the word of a boy she’s never met when it comes to important things like extending my curfew. Jeff says we’re going to a midnight movie, and Mom says,
Fine, be home by two thirty
, and there’s your answer to the Jeff question.”

“Yeah, but Jessie told me that he’s really into you.”

“He
is
really into me.” I make the gag face. “But Kristina promised him liquor, and so when we go out, he covers for me. Sadly, this means I have to endure another
date
with him next weekend. But it’s a double date with Kristina and Justin, and
it’s the last time, so it’ll be totally okay. Then I get to go to Atlantis with you, right?” I take her hand in mine and watch another airplane enter my field of vision from the east. “So, I could cover for you if you want. I mean, we can say we’re all going to the movies together or something.”

It’s a big jet—probably a 747. I want to ask the passengers if they can see us lying here holding hands. I want to ask them if we look happy.

“My mom is pretty cool about stuff like that,” she says. “So, what you said earlier. About breaking up. You never answered me.”

“What?”

“Are we in a relationship?”

I ask the passengers:
Are we in a relationship?

“Yes. I think we are,” I say. “But it’s a secret.”

“I know,” she says.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says.

I ask the passengers:
Why am I still sorry?

“It doesn’t seem very fair to you. I mean, I wish there were other places we could meet and hang out,” I say.

She rolls herself to the space above me. “How about here? And now?”

When Dee kisses me, the taste of her is enough to make me die right here on the spot. I don’t care if some mountain biker zooms through on the path. I don’t care about anything. Not Zeno or Socrates. Not motion or truth. When Dee kisses me, I am alive. I am moving. I am the truth.

AT DINNER MONDAY NIGHT
, Ellis is a complete douche.

“So it turns out the whole front line is like a dyke picnic,” she says. “I thought it was just Kelly and Kira, but now I hear it’s Michelle and Gabby, too.”

Mom says, “Ellis, that’s ridiculous.”

“I know, right? Jesus! It’s, like, spreading.”

Mom says. “You’ve been hanging around these small brains for too long.”

“Yeah,” I say.

Dad just eats. I can’t believe no one else can smell the pot wafting from his core. At this point, I think we could scrape off his epidermis and smoke it for a buzz.

Ellis laughs. “How about lesbian luncheon? Is that better?”

“No,” Mom says.

“Uh, gay garden part—”

“Stop it,” Mom says. “Don’t be so small-minded.”

“Yeah,” I say.

Mom reaches over and rubs Ellis’s forearm. “I think you need a Mommy and Me night.”

Oh. Of course she does. Because nothing spells parental discipline for homophobic slurs like dressing up fancy and underage drinking at some faraway country club where larger minds are present.

“I’m running with Jess this week,” Ellis says.

“Come on. One night away from running won’t kill you.”

“I’ll go,” I say, seemingly out of control of my own mouth. Why did I just say that?

“I think I can do Thursday,” Ellis says.

“Great,” Mom answers. “We’ll go Thursday.” She doesn’t look at me when she says this. Her hand is still on Ellis’s arm. This was like a private conversation they had. My offer to go along stayed in another dimension.

Dinner conversation drifts, and Dad mentions his stapler and how he now uses Diane’s (the alleged thief) every time he needs to staple something. No one responds to him, either, as if he’s in the same dimension I am.

“I made dessert!” Mom says as I’m clearing the table. “I had too many eggs, so I tossed together a bread pudding.”

“Oh,” we all say, because the Joneses don’t eat dessert
unless it’s a holiday. We all sit back down, and she serves us each a bowl of warmed bread pudding with ice cream.

When she sits down, she turns to me. “How’d your date go on Saturday night? Kristina said it was a lot of fun.”

“It was.”

“
Fun
fun, or just fun?”

I think back to Saturday. I look forward to this Saturday. “Just fun, but with the possibility of becoming more fun,” I say.

“You should go out more often. You know, you can see Jeff on Friday nights, too, if this is getting hot and heavy,” she says.

Bleh.

“I want to know if it gets hot and heavy before it gets hot and heavy,” Dad says. “It’s my right as a father. Plus, I’ll have to sit him down and give him the talk.”

“It’s not getting hot and heavy,” I say. “And who says that anymore?”

Ellis says, “Hot and heavy. Hot and heavy. Hot and heavy.”

“Shut up,” I say. She sticks her ice cream–covered tongue out at me.

“You have the rest of your life for that stuff anyway,” Dad says.

“Gerry, you know nothing about teenagers,” Mom says. She turns back to me. “Unlike your father, I know everyone is doing it. You don’t have to talk about it, but just promise me you’ll be safe.” Oh, my God. I need an invisibility pill right now. I need the ring from Frodo Baggins. Precious! Where is the ring?

“Can’t we go back to talking about the lesbian luncheon or whatever?” I say while I get up and leave my half-eaten dessert in the sink. I am suddenly paralyzed by the truth.
I have no control over my life.
Now that I’ve made worlds collide, I’m in less control than I ever was before.

Thursday night when I get home, Ellis and Mom are already getting dolled up for their Mommy and Me night, and Ellis is in the red dress that is too low cut for a sixteen-year-old.

“I love it!” Mom says.

I close my bedroom door and read more Plato. Today’s humanities class was the day I was waiting for. Penny Uppergrove, the über-valedictorian who has a photographic memory, finally freaked out. She drives Ms. Steck crazy.
But what’s the
answer
? How can any of us pass a test if you don’t give us answers?

Today she shouted, “I give up! How am I supposed to study anything if there are no answers?” Then she burst into loud, obnoxious tears. It ended with two of the Zeno-lovers talking her down in the back of the room along with Ms. Steck promising that the class wouldn’t hurt her GPA.