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My Friend Chad

I see Chad every day in English
, but we haven’t had much to say to each other with me being so quiet and lackluster. He’s been keeping his distance, at least that’s what it seems like, even though we sit fairly close to each other.

Today, leaving class, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and there he was, looking a little more handsome than usual for some reason. He’d been out in the sun; his skin looked tanned and was kind of glowing. (I mean, if skin could actually glow.) He was wearing a nice plaid button-up shirt. His hair was relaxed and wavy, the ends were light blonde, and it wasn’t sticking up at odd angles. He looked good.

“Stacy, I wanted to talk to you a sec.”

“What’s up?”

“Listen, I talked to Summer…”

Since when did he and Summer ever cross paths? He must have noticed the confused look on my face, because he said, “We ran into each other in the library yesterday.”

I just couldn’t let that one go.

“‘Summer’ and ‘library’—two words that don’t belong together.”

Chad brushed my comment aside, gave a little shrug.

“Yeah, well, anyway, she told me about your friend…” He paused, looking down for a second. “…and I just wanted to say I’m really sorry.”

And he seemed sorry, the way his eyes looked soft, and the corners of his mouth were kind of turned down.

That Summer. I’m gonna kill her.

“Uh, thanks, Chad. That’s really sweet of you.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve talked. I
thought
you hadn’t seemed like yourself, so I talked to her—asked about you.”

Wow. He really
does
care about me. This was a surprising development. I started to feel just the faintest hint of a tiny butterfly in my stomach, then I remembered horrible Vanessa.

What the heck, I decided I was gonna go for it. I was just gonna ask.

“
So
how are things going with Vanessa? You two engaged yet?”

He laughed. “We’re not seeing each other anymore. You know, she’s great. But she’s just not…that…”

“Smart?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” And he laughed. I laughed. We laughed. Hahaha. Sometimes I just crack myself up.

“Well, I could’ve told you
that
, Chad.”

And we walked out of class, laughing at the poor, dumb, hot girl, horrible Vanessa. And I felt a little bit more hopeful about life.

Becca’s Kind Of Annoying

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I watched Becca
fold her laundry. She’s about five percent neater now and actually matches her socks up instead of shoving them all in her drawer in a pile. (I’ve never known somebody to have so many black socks.)

“So, Chad broke up with horrible Vanessa,” I said casually. She gave me this look like, “Oh, no, you don’t. Not again.”

“Isn’t he the one—wait. It’s all coming back to me. Isn’t he the one you said you never ever wanted to kiss ever again? Ever?”

God, what is
wrong
with her? How does she remember every little thing she’s ever read or heard or seen in her entire life? Maybe it’s her medication? No, she’s always been like this.

“Becca, you don’t understand. That was, like, six months ago. He still had his
braces
. And it’s not like he’s asked me out or anything. Yet. I’m just glad he saw Vanessa for who she really is. She’s not
good enough
for him.”

“Yeah, that must be it. You keep telling yourself that, Stacy. But I like Chad anyway. He’s sweet. Much better than that dickhead Anthony you were so in love with.”

“God, why do I tell you anything?”

“Because you value my valuable advice? I don’t know. If you don’t want to hear it, then
stop telling me things!
”

I grinned. I’m really glad that Becca and I are getting along so well these days.

A Duck Walks Into A Bar

Mom was getting ready for her date
with Alex. She wore a little black dress. Her hair was down, extra eyeshadow, red lipstick, and a crystal pendant necklace with matching earrings. She looked beautiful. Alex was taking her to the opera. Yawn.

The doorbell rang, and I invited Alex in while she finished touching up her mascara. He was wearing a brown sport coat and tie and looked
kind of
handsome. I could smell his cologne, and I pictured him kissing my mother and wondered if they already had. What was I thinking? Of course they had.

“Hey, Alex. Come on in.”

He led off with a joke, because that’s how he is.

“A duck walks into a bar, orders a drink, and tells the bartender, ‘Put it on my bill.’” Then he gave a little rimshot complete with sound effects.

“I don’t get it,” I told him, even though I really did.

“Uh, well, see, the joke is that the duck’s telling the bartender to put it on his bill. Get it? He
has
a bill already—ducks have bills—but he’s also asking the bartender to put it on his bill—his
tab
—so he can pay him later. So it has a double meaning.”

“Ha. I get it. That’s pretty funny, Alex.”

He’s such a dork. I planned to be nicer to him next time. I just didn’t want him thinking he could come right in and move in on my mom and everything. Not yet. He was gonna have to work for it a little. I mean, it was good to see my mom going out, but I wasn’t so sure if I was ready for a stepdad yet.

Mom made her entrance, and the way Alex looked at her, it was as if he was seeing something really special.

“Wow, Maryann. You look beautiful.”

He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Mom was all glowing and happy.

“Oh, you’re sweet, Alex.”

“No, Mom, you really look great.”

Mom put a little, gauzy wrap around her shoulders and grabbed her black cocktail purse, the one with the sequins.

“You two kids have fun tonight. And stay out of trouble now,” I said, which cracked them up, and they left, all smiles and chatting. I picked up the book I was reading, a worn-out copy of
Pride and Prejudice
that I’ve already read once and we’ve all passed around. I was killing time, waiting for Becca and Roman to come back with our pizza so we could start our movie,
Rocky Horror Picture Show
—a very freaky movie, but one of Becca and Roman’s favorites. I think they mostly like it for the fashion. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday night though.

Do You Give
A Girl Named
Rose Roses?

It’s official, Rose and Darrell, the hairless swimmer, are a couple.
Rose, my protector, my friend, my partner in petty crime. Bethany seems happy but a little sad too. She and Rose have been best friends for as long as I’ve known them; now the dynamic has shifted. Instead of Rose and Bethany, and me tagging along, it’s Rose and Darrell, with Bethany and me tagging along. It was bound to happen eventually.

Darrell’s nice. Always says, “Hey, Stacy. What’s going on?”

And I say, “Absolutely nothing.”

For being bald, he’s not bad looking. Deep brown eyes and long eyelashes. He didn’t shave his eyebrows off. They’re nicely shaped, no monobrow. The hair on his head, if he
did
have it, would be dark brown and curly.

Another couple has been formed, and our group’s adjusting. Except I don’t know how long the group will last with Bethany as the third wheel on their dates. (That can’t be much fun for her or them.)

I wonder if he has a hairless friend for Bethany?

Maybe I should mind my own business; the last thing I need to do is play matchmaker. But Bethany’s lonely. There’s got to be someone out there for her too. Someone who likes down-to-earth girls who can really throw a softball and keep a 4.0. Someone who doesn’t mind a girl who dresses like a boy and doesn’t wear makeup.

I really hope so. I really hope there
is
someone out there for everyone. That’s what they say at least, isn’t it?

Teenage Wasteland

We’ve been studying poetry in English, and I sat reading
The Waste Land
, trying to make some sense of it, and I have to say, my head was a wasteland reading it. And instead of telling us what it actually meant, Mr. Selden wanted us to study it first. (What I “think” is that T.S. Eliot wasn’t a big fan of people, but I could be missing something.)

As I sat there mulling it over, trying not to be too depressed (but it’s hard when the first section is titled, “The Burial of the Dead”), I caught Chad watching me out of the corner of my eye. He looked away, but I’m pretty sure he was looking at me. I could see the littlest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, like he was thinking about something good, like he just got the punch line of a joke. I wonder—I just wonder—if he was thinking about me.

Almost All Is Revealed

Today Mr. Selden gave his in-depth analysis
of
The Waste Land
, and I couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s
all
symbolism, and it might as well have been written in a different language. It’s still way over my head—too much for this freshman brain to handle. Except Daria got it. She totally got it. But then, she would. She’s freaky that way.

I watched Chad for a while when he wasn’t looking. I noticed how pretty his brown eyes with the green flecks are and how golden brown his skin is; how white and straight his teeth are.

I watched him write, and I watched him think, and this is what I thought as I watched him:
Chad’s a hottie. Chad is a fox
.

I wonder if he believes in second chances?