Emily Franklin - Principles Of Love 06 - Labor Of Love (9 page)

"No diving off the pier at night into shark-infested wa ters?" Chris asks.

"No dressing up in your finest and trying to gain access to the Yacht Club's open bar?" Haverford queries.

"What about the agricultural fair?" Chili suddenly gets excited. "We could go see the cows, the pigs, ride the Whip. . . ."

We all consider this."I do like my cotton candy," I say and grip the railing behind me."Do I look like a figurehead?"

Chris nods, then leans forward. "A figurehead? Are you still overly ensconced in the boat world?"

"Hardly." Chili and Haverford go inside to negotiate cars, dinner, and curfew with their parents while Chris and I sit side by side on the small staircase.

"So you're not wrapped up in Charlie's nautical scene?"

I slide my flip-flop on and off, looking at the V-shaped tan line. Even on my paler-than-pale skin, the sunlight has left a mark."He's so focused on work."

"And that's a bad thing?"

I shake my head. "Not really. Not in and of itself. I'd be doing the same thing, probably."

"If you'd taken a year off?" Chris kicks at the sandy

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tarmac with his retro sneaker. The dark green and orange of it remind me of fall at Hadley, the vibrant colors on the quad.

"I think a year off is a kind euphemism. Charlie dropped out. I don't think he had any intention of going back when he left."

Chris elbows me."Do you think a small--maybe minus cule part--of you was drawn in by that?"

"Maybe. I don't like to think about that, though, because now he's not that guy. He has those qualities--but his life will be so different this year. It already is." I picture Char lie hunched over a desk, taking notes from some academic tome, and not picking up when I call his cell.

"Does it worry you for the fall? Like when you picture still being with him?"

My mental movie cues--me on the Harvard campus strolling hand in hand with Charlie, who waves to his Shet land sweater�clad cronies and introduces me as his swell girl friend. I'm in a sweater set."In my mind, we're this outdated couple--sipping shared frapp�s at Barley's Burgers."

"So you're in Grease." He pauses. "Can I be Kenickie?" He flips a nonexistent collar on his imaginary leather jacket and quotes,"A hickey from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card. When you care enough to send the very best."

"Sure," I say and touch his shoulder like I'm knight

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ing him. "You can be my sidekick greaser. Only I get to be Ponyboy."

"Oh my god you are so mixing movies right now."

"I know. But I loooove C.Thomas Howell in that." I re gain my conversational composure."I guess I do worry about it a little. It. Such a short word for such a complex thing." I stretch out the word, rolling the syllables off my tongue."My relationship with Charlie. It has the potential to be the biggest one.The longest, and definitely the most mature."

"It seems that way." Chris looks at me."So, you're settled in it, though? Not paranoid about whatever old flames he left behind on the Ivy League campus?"

"I never thought about that. The old girlfriend issues. Thanks, Chris, now you've given me more useless fodder to churn over while I try and sleep. I wasn't worried about that, exactly. More like how do we make the transition from summer thing to year-round couple?" I let my posture flag, slumping as my forearms rest on my thighs. I look at Chris over my right shoulder. "I don't know. That time seems so long ago."

"Sophomore fall?" Chris flicks his eyebrows up, remem bering."Ah, yes, I remember it well. It was a long time ago, I guess."

"Do you ever think that? Count how long you've been out or . . ."

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"I don't tally up the days, if that's what you mean. But I do . . . keep a record, maybe? More of how my emotional state is--or has been." He checks behind to see if Haver- ford's there.

"The coast is clear--he's inside. Prettying himself up for you. . . ." I smirk.

"You are so in trouble if you bring up my crush in front of him."

"But he knows.You're the one who told him."

"Ah, yes, part of my brash and brilliant plan that went completely wrong."

"Now you're doomed to be his buddy? His confidante." I sigh."Sounds familiar." I think of my first boyfriend, lusting and liking Robinson Hall, who wound up being a jerk. He cheated on me at the end, and so did Asher, my London love. Or at least I thought it was love at the time. But I don't now.

"And yet . . . he flirts with me." Chris stands up and smooths his shirt and pushes the hair off his forehead. I think about Haverford's T-shirt comment before and wonder how Chris can handle that outright acknowledgement of the un requited crush, the overt looks and smiles. "It's actually not as painful as it appears."

I cast a doubtful look his way."Really? Because I've been there, liking someone, not being able to have them, ques tioning every flirt, every ambiguous conversation."

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Chris arches his back."I'm okay with it." He watches me scratch the bug bites that litter my calves and then swats my hands away so I stop."You'll just make them worse."

"Oh, and you're one to talk about scratching an itch. . . ."

"Okay, theoretical maven . . . you're stretching the meta phor, but I'll give you a certain amount of credit for prob ing." He stands in front of me, semi-studying my face, and then goes on. "You know how normally you like someone and then something happens or doesn't? I took the plot into my own hands and admitted my feelings, right?" I nod."And even though Haverford's with Ben--not that I've seen or heard much about him this trip--I'm not in that state. . . ."

"Which state,Tennessee?"

"Funny. No. I'm not in that terrible state of post- admitting kidding myself. I realize Haverford might not like me the way I like him. I even realize he might never return the feelings."

"And you're fine with that." I stand up, undo my pony tail, and shake my head upside down. It's long enough now that the ends are close to sweeping the ground.

"I am."

Chris tugs on my hair and I look up, throwing my locks back dramatically. I'll look all full-headed and lustrous for about three seconds, and then my hair will remember its job

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is to fall lank onto my shoulders."How can you just be okay with that? I always . . . I feel like I want to be that person. Someone who can just be accepting of limitations, but I'm not."

"But I wouldn't be, either," Chris says. He lifts his chin to gesture to the doorway where Chili gives us the one minute sign. "But what changed it for me is saying it all. Just put ting it out there so that no matter what, I've said my piece. Whatever happens happens. But this way, I'm not carrying that weight of knowing I could have expressed myself."

"I've been thinking so much about change--you know, as a concept.Trying to pinpoint if it's gradual or sudden."

"Totally understandable considering the recent additions and subtractions in your life."

"And maybe what I should do is try to focus less on the nature of change and more about me in it."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Chris motions for Chili and Haverford to come down the steps, to follow us as we start to walk.

"Meaning take the Chris path and tell Charlie how I feel." I push my shoulders back, standing tall. Or as tall as you can get at my height."I can express myself. I'm much better than I was.You yourself said I tell great stories. So now all I have to do is not think about the plot and just exist in it."

Chris touches my back so I stop walking. We wait for

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Chili and Haverford, for our weekend to begin. "You have to do more than that, Love. You have to take the bull by the horns. Grab that person--Sadie, Gala . . . Jacob--and tell them how you feel."

I hear the names and blush. Not because I know that Labor Day is inevitable or because I'm not an only child any longer. None of those giant changes. "I'm so lame for not dealing with him sooner, aren't I?" I say and wait for Chris to absolve me of my reluctance to contact Jacob."I just don't want to dredge up the past and all that."

"Silly me. I thought when you said tell people how you felt, it included actual humans. Not just telephone poles." Chris thumbs to the slanting pole to his right. I ingest what he said, know he's right. I can't ignore Jacob forever. It would just be easier if I could.

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B y cell phone buzzes a message to me as Chris drives to the grounds of the Agricultural Fair. I have a habit of leaving the ring on silent and then wondering why I miss so many calls.

"Thanks for letting me brush up on my stick shift skills," he says, signaling left.

"Ahem!" I say and listen to her message. "She's still in LA," I inform Chris as Arabella tells me. "She's . . . staying for a while longer--she hooked up with that surfer guy. No surprise there. And she's been spending time with Sadie." I pause, wondering if that's okay. Arabella knows my sister more than I do. Then I poke Chris. "Wait--do you think Sadie knows we're fully related?" Chris makes his exagger ated I-have-no-clue face, his mouth rubbery and pulled down at the sides, his eyes wide. "She wants me to pack up her stuff." I close the phone.

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"Is she coming back at all?" Chris downshifts into third.

"Yeah--for Labor Day. Her flight's out of Logan." I fast forward to that weekend, to meeting Gala, seeing Sadie if she comes, and hugging Arabella good-bye.

As if he knows my thoughts, Chris says,"You're going to cry when she leaves, huh?"

I realize he could be talking about any of the women I have in mind."Yeah." I confirm his theory and point to the fork in the road."Turn. Chris--turn!" I pull the wheel a bit. "Sorry--I'm not the best passenger in the world."

"Seriously." Chris takes my hand off the wheel and rolls his eyes."Are we there?"

Chili and Haverford are ahead of us, leading the way to the site of the annual Agricultural Fair. It's a Vineyard tradi tion and an all-island event, so when we get close to the grounds and there's no backup of cars, no pickups pulled off to the side, and no other cars filled with overeager teenagers, I'm doubtful Chili knew what she was talking about when she suggested we go.

"I think so," I say,"but . . ."

"But . . . check it out--sibling squabble." Chris stops the car next to Haverford's dune buggy. He and Chili are strapped in, using one another's shoulders as punching bags while Chili argues."I didn't know! So sue me!"

"I told you it was last year's dates." Haverford shakes his

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head. At Hadley, he's a mock-jock, a term used on campus to describe students who, though thoroughly involved in athletics, will drop sports as soon as they get to college or the real world, destined for academic or artistic greatness. Someone for who sports is a temporary passion that will fade into watching games rather than playing them. Right now, Haverford has his game face on--the muscles in his arms tense, his jaw locked.

"Take it easy, Have," Chili says and makes a disgusted face at her brother."You're way overinvested in this."

Chris pokes me in the thigh as we eavesdrop and I try not to laugh.We wait for more drama.

"All I'm saying is, get your facts straight." Haverford lets an angry burst of air out from his lips and stares ahead at the road.

"Look on the bright side," I suggest, leaning out the passenger-side window. "We got a really good parking space!"

This lessens the mood slightly and we decide to park and explore the grounds anyway. Haverford parks in front of a large tree while Chris pulls up close, right to the edge of the field.

"Hey!" Chris points."That's kind of cool."

The four of us swish through the long grass at the side of the grounds and onto the closer-clipped sections. Chili runs

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ahead and then sprints back, breathy as she speaks."I wasn't far off.The day after tomorrow. Sorry."

Haverford shrugs off his annoyance and looks ahead at the scene."Let's check it out anyway."

It's funny to watch their sibling interaction. One min ute they're ignoring one another, the next they're in fits of laughter that only they fully understand, and the next they're pissed off and grumpy. It's not like with parents and not ex actly the way it is with friends.

"You know what?" I ask as Chris and I kick our way through the green grass. "I'm psyched that I have a shot at that." I point to Haverford and Chili. They're walking side by side, and every so often he kicks her in the rear and she does the same. Then he roughs up her hair and she laughs.

"I bet," Chris says. He walks forward, past where Chili kneels tying the laces of her sneaker, and up to the motion less rides."Step right up folks, don't be shy now."

"No one ever accused you of that, that's for sure," Haver- ford says. He leaves to circle the main tent while Chili, Chris, and I look at the empty merry-go-round, the unmoving spider ride. A few other people are around--older couples anticipating the fair, a family with toddlers running in the field, maybe one or two other people who got the dates wrong--but the fair is basically empty.

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"I hate that ride," Chili says. "Or--sorry--not hate. My parents loathe improper use of that word. I don't care for it."

"Me either," I say. "I once screamed so much my aunt had to ask the operator to stop so I could get off. I like bumper cars, though.They must have those here, don't you think?"

"Probably. Last year it was near the pigs. Don't ask me why I remember that, but I do."

The sunlight is less forceful now, and shadows are over taken by the sinking sun.The fair has livestock, games booths, rides, and food. Right now, it's fairly still with only the ride operators unpacking and setting up.

"We're out of here," Haverford announces. He motions for us to go his way as though we're all on a team and he's the quarterback.

Chris shrugs. "He wants to go to some party out near Squibnocket Point. Some kid's house from Markson." Mark- son Academy is one of Hadley's rivals--we play them every year in the fall and for a day at least, people pretend to care who wins.We wear the Hadley colors, some girls doctoring up Hadley gear to their best advantage (e.g., making deep- cut v's in their sweatshirts, creating cropped Hadley tanks out of T-shirts) and the true jocks painting their faces.Then we all go back to studying.