Paranoid Park (12 page)

At dawn I fell asleep for a few minutes, and then the alarm went off. I had to go to school. I went to the bathroom and not even the hottest water in the shower could loosen the tightness in my back and neck. My whole body was like a throbbing knot. In the mirror, my face was swollen and blotched red. I looked so terrible I thought for sure my mother would say something.

But she had her own problems. I ate breakfast and avoided the newspaper that Henry had spread over the table.
I was a bad person.
I had accepted that over the night. I was evil and I would die and then I would be off the planet and that would be good. It would be good for me. It would be good for the planet.

Then I started to cry. I had to stand up and walk out of the room without letting anyone see my face. I ran down into the basement and fell onto the old couch, sobbing as quietly as I could.

“Honey?” my mother called down the stairs. “What are you doing? You’re going to be late.”

I had become very good at covering up. I instantly stopped crying, and in a perfectly reasonable voice, said, “Nothing, Mom, just looking for a book. Can I take your car to school?”

“You’re going to have to if you don’t hurry up....”

“I know. I’m coming,” I said. I dried my eyes with the back of my hand. I wiped the snot on one of the cushions. I took a deep breath and walked up the stairs.

My mom stopped me in the hall. “Honey, your eyes are all red-are you all right?” The funny thing was, she thought it was her fault. She thought I was upset about the separation.

“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just allergies.”

“Did you take those pills?”

“I did, but they make me so sleepy. I gotta go. Can I take your car?”

She gave me the keys and I hurried out. I threw my books in the front seat and sat in the car for a moment, trying to pull myself together.

That’s when I saw Macy McLaughlin standing in the grass beside me.

Macy needed a ride to school. She had missed her bus. Could I take her with me?

That was about the last thing I wanted to do. But what could I say? I motioned for her to get in. She did, putting on her seat belt while I started the car. I backed down the driveway, but I went too fast and just missed taking out our mailbox. I had to take it easy.

I put the car into drive and started forward. But then Rufus, the neighbor’s dog, dashed into the street right in front of me. I slammed on the brakes. “Get out-ta the street, you dumb dog! ” I shouted.

Macy stared at me.

“Why can’t people keep their stupid dogs in their stupid houses, where they belong?” I muttered.

Macy remained silent.

“What?” I said. “You saw him. He ran right in front of me!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“And now he’ll go knock over our garbage cans. And I’ll have to clean it up.”

“You’re sure in a good mood this morning,” she said. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Nothing. Allergies.”

“I thought people got allergies in the spring,” she said.

I didn’t answer. I stopped at a red light. I turned on the radio. But I hated the radio now; I couldn’t listen to anything for more than a few seconds. I turned it off.

“Actually, I’m supposed to ask you something,” said Macy.

“Yeah? What?”

“My friend Rachel wants to buy her boyfriend a skateboard. For their anniversary.”

I shook my head.

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“Skateboards aren’t something a girlfriend can buy you.”

“That’s why she wanted to ask you.”

“Nobody can buy you a skateboard,” I said. “It’s a personal thing. You have to pick it yourself.”

“Would you at least go with us?”

“And they cost too much anyway. A decent skateboard can cost a hundred bucks.”

“She doesn’t care.”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“But couldn’t you just come with us?”

“No,” I said. “And she shouldn’t do it at all.”

“Ohh-kay,” said Macy. “Obviously someone’s in a bit of a mood—”

“Why would someone think they could buy someone a skateboard?” I snapped. “It’s idiotic.”

I was driving too fast again. I made myself slow down.

Macy watched me. I could feel her eyes on me. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Jesus.”

She watched the houses going by on the right. “I heard about your parents.”

“My parents are the least of my worries.”

“Yeah? What is it, then? Is it something about Jennifer Hasselbach?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

I didn’t say anything more. We arrived at school. I drove slowly over the speed bumps at the front entrance. “If you guys want to buy a skateboard, go to that place at the mall.”

“But that’s why we wanted to ask you. Isn’t there a better place downtown? That’s what everyone says.”

“I don’t know what’s downtown,” I lied, pulling into a parking space. “I never go there.”

“I thought you did. Everyone said you would know.”

“It’s not true,” I said. I turned off the car.

Macy unclicked her seat belt. “So you won’t even come?”

“No,” I said. “And don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“Like I’m being an asshole about it.”

“I’m not looking like that.”

I got out and slammed my door. “You kinda are.” Macy got out and slammed hers. “Well you kinda
are
being an asshole about it.”

I walked away from her, toward the junior/senior wing. It was so ridiculous about girls. They get these schoolgirl crushes on you, and you can do no wrong. Then they stop liking you and they want to boss you around, like you were once their boyfriend, which you never were. You never even liked them.

I went to class. I went to my locker. I went to the cafeteria for first lunch. Parker and James were sitting in their usual spot, but Parker stood up the minute I sat down. He had vocab to study. James left a few minutes later.

So I ate by myself. I stabbed at my green beans with my fork. I remembered freshman year when we’d kid around and eat “prison-style.” It was a game where you kept your forearm in front of your tray, to guard your food. Then the other guys tried to stab your fish sticks, or sneak their hand under your armpit and steal your Crunch bar or whatever. Just stupid frosh stuff. Games you play. And now, here I was, barely able to eat I was so scared. Eating “prison-style” wasn’t so funny anymore.

Macy and Rachel walked by; they had first lunch, too. They sat at the end of my table with some other sophomores. They talked for a minute, and then Rachel came down the table to where I was.

“So Macy said you won’t come downtown with us,” she said, smiling, trying to put on the charm.

“I told her, you can’t buy a guy a skateboard.”

“Could you at least tell us where to go?”

“I don’t know where to go. I told her to go to the mall.”

“But there’s a better place downtown. I know there is. Why won’t you help us?”

“Because!” I said. “It’s a bad idea!”

She became alarmed and went back to the other end of the table.

One thing I’d learned, though. When you think you’re about to totally lose it, if you can just hang on a few more minutes, a few more seconds, things turn normal again.

That’s what happened. I finished lunch and went to AP history. We watched the second half of
Doctor Zhivago,
and I sat in back and managed to sleep for almost an hour. That felt a lot better. Then for sixth period I had math, and Mr. Minter was in a good mood and gave everyone a “pass” grade on our last quiz because his computer screwed up.

I even felt bad about Macy and Rachel, and when I saw them after school, I yelled to them and waved them over to my car. I drew them a map to the skate shop downtown.

“But won’t you come with us?” they pleaded. “We won’t know which things are good.”

I thought about it and realized if I didn’t go with them I had nothing to do but worry and obsess all afternoon, so I said yes. We all got in my mom’s car.

Downtown, we parked and walked to the skate shop. Rachel was serious about buying a skateboard. Her boyfriend was this boring guy named Dustin, who as far as I could tell never skated, or did much of anything. He sucked at basketball—I knew that because I’d seen him play rat-ball in the back parking lot.

Rachel studied all the decks carefully. She wanted to know about the different trucks and wheels and all that. It was kind of fun actually, playing Mr. Expert for an hour. I had bought my first board there. The board that was now under fifty feet of water in the Willamette River. As I looked at some of their new stuff, I regretted buying my new board at the mall. This place had the best stuff.

Rachel bought a board for $119. This seemed like too much to me. And the “anniversary,” it turned out, was not for going out, but for the first time they talked on the phone or some ridiculous thing. Girls were so weird.

Once we had the board, we walked farther downtown and went to Starbucks. That was kinda fun. Rachel was pretty cool to hang out with. She was cute and funny, but in a real way. I wouldn’t have minded going out with someone like her.

Macy was another story. She sort of bugged me for some reason. But my mood changed every three seconds. I couldn’t tell what I thought.

After we’d sat there a few minutes, I glanced out the window. A girl caught my eye. She was across the street talking to a Streeter guy who was begging for change. The girl was sort of dirty, too. I couldn’t see her face. Then she turned, and I saw who it was: Paisley.

I almost spit up my mocha. I lowered my head, but I realized she couldn’t see through the window. She was busy talking anyway. The guy gave her a cigarette. She lit it and stood there smoking and talking to the guy.