Girl Meets Boy (7 page)

When he motioned Sally over to order their food, Alex glanced up at her, but Sally pretended not to know who she was.
It’s not my fault,
she wanted to tell Sally, but instead she put her index finger into her mouth and ripped off what little nail there was left.

It was weird. He wanted to know why she—a girl—was there. But she didn’t exactly know why. She just wanted to talk to him. She didn’t know what to say, although she yakked on anyway. Like her dad said, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Finally Max made a joke about her fingernails. It wasn’t that hysterical a joke, but she was so on edge, she laughed loudly. A big idiotic guffaw.

“LOL,” Max said. “I knew you’d have a laugh like that.”

“Except you thought I’d be a boy,” Alex said.

“Yeah. A boy with a goofball laugh.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said, but it made her happy that she’d pleased him. That she was, in some small way, who he’d expected.

“Hey, I like it,” Max said. “Honest.”

He
was
honest—she could tell. He would never have deceived her the way she’d deceived him. He deserved an explanation, and she tried a few out before she finally told him the one that seemed closest to the truth.

“I needed to see you with my eyes,” she said. “To see if you were real.”

It was all she could tell him just then. Over her burger and onion rings they talked more, and it became easier. He began to seem almost like her best friend again, a best friend who was also a stranger.

She told him about her father, about how much she hated him and how badly she wanted to escape. But she didn’t mention Cal, didn’t say a word about the person who should have been there instead of her. She thought about Cal, but then pushed him out of her mind. She wanted it to just be her sitting there with Max. She wanted his pale blue eyes focused only on her.

Of course, she couldn’t have that, not really. Cal could have had it, but she couldn’t. The onion rings she usually loved suddenly tasted like garbage, and she wanted to leave. She made an excuse about having to get home before her father got back, as if he’d be sober enough to know whether she was home or not.

“Do you want to talk—online, I mean?” Max asked as Alex gathered her jacket and paid her bill.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know.”

I don’t know one thing,
is what Alex was thinking.
I’m an idiot, and I don’t know one thing.
And then, before she could think what she was doing, she leaned across the table and gave Max a kiss on the cheek. She was pretty sure it was a kiss good-bye.

As Alex turned to leave, there was Sally, right in the doorway, and she ran smack into her. Sally’s hand went immediately to her stomach, as though she was already protecting the baby inside, Alex’s
niece,
she thought now, the baby her brother wanted nothing to do with.

Alex wished she could put her own hand on Sally’s bulging belly, could help soothe the child that was barely wanted. But Sally backed away and then was gone.
If only I knew what was the right thing to do, Alex thought, I would do it.

A few weeks later, Cal came home from school with news of interest to Alex. He was glad to have something good to tell her; she’d been very moody and depressed lately.

He pretended to knock on her curtain, then stuck his head around it. “Hey, guess what?”

“What?” Alex was sitting in her computer chair, but staring out the window, as usual these days. She’d hardly used her computer in weeks, and hadn’t gone into any chat rooms since her evening with Max at the Arrowhead. It was easier to think he might be missing her too than to admit that she wasn’t the friend he had in mind.

Cal came in and sat down on her bed. “I was in the library after school, and this guy came up to me and asked if I was your brother, and I admitted that, unfortunately, I was.”

She didn’t laugh. “Who?” she said, without interest.

“Cody Marker.”

Alex’s head swiveled from the window to her brother. “Cody Marker? Why did he want to know if you were my brother?”

“He asked me if you were okay. He thought you seemed upset about something.”

She turned away again. “I hardly know Cody Marker.”

“That’s not what it sounded like. I got the distinct impression he was interested in you, dearie. He told me you had the best laugh he’d ever heard. Except that he hadn’t heard it in a while. Which is why he thought you were upset. Personally, I think the guy is on to something.”

“Cody said that? For real?”

Cal nodded and smiled. “For real. I told him I thought you’d appreciate it if he called you this evening. See how you were doing. I have a feeling he will.”

Instead of the happiness he expected to see take over Alex’s face, her bubble of sadness burst into wet tears.

“I thought you liked Cody?” Cal said.

Alex came over to sit next to Cal on the bed. “I do. I’m just such a stupid, selfish jerk.” She cried all over his shirtsleeve.

He put his arm around her shoulder. “What is going on with you, Alex? I’m starting to get worried.”

She reached for a tissue on the night table and wiped her face. “I’m sorry, Cal. It’s just … I was so lonely. You know?”

“Of course I do,” Cal said. “We live here in the jungle with the beasts. I don’t know why you’re apologizing to me—”

“Wait!” Alex said, leaping up. “I have something for you too. I know this will sound kind of crazy, but I met this guy, a gay guy.” She began to rummage through her desk drawer. “He’s your age and he’s really nice and I know you’d like him, and—”

“What? What gay guy? How did you meet—”

“Never mind about that. I’ll tell you later, or he can tell you. But you absolutely
have
to call him. He only lives about ten miles from here.” Finally she pulled a scrap of paper from the desk. “Here! Here’s his phone number!”

“Alex, I can’t call somebody I’ve never even met!”

“I met him
for
you, and I’m telling you, he’s great. Promise me you’ll call him?”

It took Cal a few days to get up the nerve to call the number. Alex—who was in a much better mood now that Cody Marker had phoned several nights in a row—kept after him. She told him
everything she knew about Max (except how she’d met him) and made him sound wonderful. Cal was worried. He’d never met another gay person his age. He wouldn’t know how to act, what to say. He was afraid he’d sound naive.

“That doesn’t matter. Just call him,” Alex said, and finally he did.

“My sister told me I should call you,” he said, feeling ridiculous.

But Max sounded just as nice as Alex had said he’d be, and after talking for a few minutes, they made a plan to meet at the Arrowhead Diner.

“I should tell you what I look like,” Cal said.

“You don’t need to,” Max said. “I’ll recognize you by your laugh.”

What a bug-out. Here I am watching you pretending not to watch me. I’m not turned off by shy, but shy will get you sitting by your lonesome. Shy will get you watching from the sidelines while I’m stepping out with some other guy. Come on, Sean. Let’s get in the game. Say those two words as only you can say them: Hey, Raffina.

I have to admit the whole shy thing is part of the appeal. Sean’s a complete switch from what I’m used to dealing with. A girl can’t eat a hoagie in the caf without some playa rolling up, trying to get those digits. Now that’s a turnoff. Guys assuming too much, too soon. It’s not just because I’m fine—which I am, but because I’m Gary’s sister. The Highlander Hero. Holds the state record for the most triple doubles in a season. Scores thirty-two points on a slow day. So you know what that means. Everybody’s
scouting. Recruiting. Rubbing up on him, trying to get to know him. Yeah. Even if they have to go through me to be in with Gary. The guys want to be part of the entourage. The chicks want to be the girl in the prom picture when ESPN takes a look back on the life of Gary Frazier.

But Sean? That boy has no clue. He just gives me that smile like he wants to kick it, but swallows it instead. Except when he wears his University of North Carolina jersey. I bet he thinks it’s just a cool shirt. Baby blue to play off his blue eyes. Never even seen Vince Carter charge and dunk for the Tar Heels wearing number 15. But I’m not complaining, because when he wears the lucky blue jersey I get those two words from him, “Hey Raffina.” Then he’ll ask a question, just to have something to say.

And I’m like,
yeeeaah.
Sounds silly. All these guys trying to get me in their Jeep, their Lexus, but I’d rather ride off with Sean in his beat-up hooptie, because he knows how to say my name. It’s my parents’ fault. Back in the day, Daddy took Ma to see some play about South Africa called
Sarafina!
Yeah. One f. After that Ma wanted to name me Sarafina but she couldn’t exactly remember the name or how to spell it. So with Daddy’s help I got no Sa and two fs. Because of that people say “raff,” like drop my name in a hat, shake it up, and reach for a raff. Why? Because that’s what you do when two fs are stuck together. Only family gets it right. Family and Sean.

Sean is cool without effort. You know how hard that is? He’s not trying to be a surfer, a skater, a prep, a goth, a punk. He’s just Sean. A John Mayer cute white guy without the acoustic guitar. When he does finally get it together, he’s not gonna say, “‘Sup, yo?” changing his style because he’s talking to me. He’s just going to be real. Sean. With No Clue, he’s got all this good stuff going on.

It should be simple. I don’t exactly bite. Here we are, two humans taking Human Relations 2. Come on, Sean. Let’s relate.

Today’s class is all about the female genitalia, breaking it down to the labia minor, major, clitoris, urethra, vagina. It’s not exactly helping the cause. Sean won’t even look this way. His eyes are straight on the board. Thanks, Mr. Adams. Guess I gotta wait for lucky blue jersey day. Sean’s wearing green checks. Green checks? I swear. White boys dress like they’re in the third grade. But that’s all right, Sean. I’m gonna hook you up. Why? Because you’re taking me to the junior formal. You don’t know it yet. Just wear the lucky jersey tomorrow and say, “Hey Raffina.” I’ll do the rest.

I still have to break it to Gary that I’m going out with Sean. (And to Sean too, for that matter.) Gary thinks he has to approve of my boyfriends. He really shouldn’t care that Sean’s white. I mean, Gary deals with a lot of white girls. Gary’s into long hair. Real long hair. No weaves, no extensions.

I’m not like that about Sean. I won’t lie. I love his blue eyes, and even that mole on his neck. But that’s not why I’m going out with him. And no, I don’t want blue contacts. I just like the whole Sean package. And he’ll be even better when I get through with him.

I laugh to myself. Gary’s gonna have a kitten. And don’t let him see Sean rocking that Vince Carter joint. He might as well be wearing Michael Jordan’s jersey. UNC is the only school my brother’s considering. He visited some other schools. Syracuse. Too cold. UCLA and Gonzaga. Too far. Kentucky. A possibility. But he only wants North Carolina. He only wants to be a Tar Heel. Even ordered a jersey, sweatband, and socks online. He doesn’t wear any of it. Doesn’t want to jinx himself. Just keeps the stuff
wrapped up in plastic. Got it hanging over his dresser mirror like it’s a museum display. If I wanted to piss him off, I’d rip open the plastic and touch all his NC stuff with my bare hands.

I just confront him in the kitchen.

“You know I’m going to the junior formal, right? You know I’m not going alone.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Gary palms the top of my head with his King Kong hand. His finger’s too close to my eye. I take a swipe at him, but his body is too far from his hand. “Lank-ass ape. Get offa my hair. Ain’t no basketball.”

“Sister head,” he says, sporting his Shaquille O’Neal endorsement grin. “Perfect for dunking.”

“Maaaaaw,” I holler.

“Rescue who?” Gary says. “I’m buying Ma a bigger house.” Then he lets up. Totally wrecked my wrap. Know how long it takes to swirl it and pin it with every strand in place? See, Sean would never do that. I’d get nothing but respect from Sean.

Gary thinks he’s my daddy. He thinks he’s the man of the house. Well, technically he is, but that don’t give him the right to mess up my hair.

“Why you can’t wait to get with these losers?”

“Here we go,” I say.

“You don’t know guys like I do, Raffina. If you did, you wouldn’t let one cough on you.”

“And how many girls you go out with this year, Gary? Oops. I said go out. That means you’d actually have to go somewhere with them. As in take them out on a date.”

“I go out.”

“No, Gary. You go
in.
”

He laughs it off but he knows it’s true. Gary has girls hiding in his locker. Gonna give him some in the weight room, under the bleachers, in the parking lot.

“All right,” he says, trying to be serious. “What’s so good about this guy? Why he gotta date my baby sister?”

I’m tired of that baby sister crap. That’s why Gary runs it into the ground. To annoy me. Just a few years ago we were the same height. Now Gary’s six-seven and growing.

I almost say Sean’s name, but I can’t because everything’s not in place yet. I say, “He knows how to treat a girl. That’s all you need to know for now.”

Gary goes back to being my daddy. “If you’re going to this junior formal, I better see this Nigro. You got me?”

I almost laugh. He just assumes who I’m going out with. But Gary’s Mr. Equal Opportunity. White girls, Hispanic girls, some black girls. As long as they have long hair.

I don’t answer, because Gary’s not my daddy. His King Kong hand goes for my head.

I get to class ahead of Sean, hoping today is the day. Sure enough Sean comes in. Baby blue North Carolina Tar Heels number 15 lucky ass shirt. I’m smiling, feeling these lips on those lips. Come on, Sean. Say the two magic words, and I’ll do the rest.

I’m still waiting for the turn. The grin. The “Hey, Raffina.” But nothing. Dag on, Sean. What’s the problem? We’re sitting in the sex class. The teacher’s showing pictures, talking about organs engorging. I see you trying to sneak a peek. Come on, Sean. I’m not wearing these low-cut V’s for nothing. At least give me some energy. The famous Sean grin.

I’m starting to doubt myself. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s
shy or what. Then I look at him. Sean. Clueless Sean. Then it hits me.
Duh!
Girl, you’re so stupid. He’s never kicked it to a black girl. This is probably a big thing to him. Here I am planning how I’ll dress him for the junior formal, while he’s going over the whole black and white thing, like Hamlet and whatnot. To kick it or not to kick it.

Damn. I thought that stuff was back in the twentieth century. Nobody’s going to stare at us. Maybe Sean’s got a reason to be freaking. Like, “Raffina, I have to tell you something. My family was on the
Oprah
show. You know the episode. ‘My Father Is a Grand Wizard of the Local KKK.’”

I was getting carried away with myself. I started to laugh, forgetting I was in class. The teacher gives me that look, thinking I’m too immature to handle the topic of coital motion, so I straighten myself up. Pull it together. Sean must be thinking the same thing.

Anyway, so the bell rings and I get out of there fast. I take a few steps down the hall then stop. What are you doing? I ask myself. It’s lucky blue jersey day. I turn around and see Sean. He’s looking in my direction. No. He’s looking dead at me. He’s got that grin, watching me walk toward him. So, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Going after the guy, when every guy goes after me, but it’s now or not happening. So I kind of work my way through the hall crowd and say, “So Sean. You look pretty happy today.”

God. The blue eyes are working. It’s the whole blue on blue effect. The eyes, the Vince Carter jersey. He says, “I am,” and he nods. Under the hallway light, the hair’s got a little shine to it.

I’m trying not to drool. Still pulling myself together, I say something like, “Yeah, aren’t you glad we’re busting out of here early? You know, sixth period dismissal.”

But I think I lost him. He goes blank, but he recovers. The Sean-ness comes back in full force. He says, “Wanna go out?” Like that. No rap. No nothing. Just cut right to it.

I’m like, wow. But I don’t want to blow it. I haven’t had a real moment since the seventh grade. This is real. I mean, I surprise myself. My grand plans are crumbling out from under me. I’m that nervous. Me. Raffina, “Miss-Quick-with-the-Quips.” All I can manage is, “Sure.”

I don’t think he hears me. But he smiles and everything is all right. Then we walk out together. He says, “I mean, like on”—and then he hesitates.

Longest two seconds, ever. I’m already freaking, thinking, ON? ON WHAT?

“On a date type thing?” he says.

I contain the big sigh of relief. Slowly, Raffina comes back, confident and in control. “Yeah. I got that,” I say. “But one thing. You gotta meet my brother Gary.”

“You have a brother in this school?”

And there it is. Sean has no clue that I’m Gary’s sister. I don’t even think he knows who the Highlander Hero is. Just no clue. Don’t you just love him?