CHAPTER 16
Matthew Watkins People in my age group, educational, and financial status don’t appreciate generalizations or profiling.
Finn Is God I have half a mind to tell you to fu of.
Julie Seagle I think that when Twitter says someone has “protected their Tweets,” a little picture of a chastity belt should pop up.
Julie sat curled up on the Watkinses’ living room couch with a chenille blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It had snowed heavily the night before, coating the trees and the ground with a crisp, white mask and leaving the city temporarily picturesque before the plows came by and dirtied everything up with black, sandy slush. It was sunny and cold, and Julie liked the feeling of holing up in the house and snuggling into the cushions. She’d been back from Thanksgiving break for five days, and her two classes this Friday had been canceled due to the weather. Matt was also home, but Celeste’s private school, Barnaby, didn’t cancel classes unless a major natural disaster hit. Erin had put on snowshoes and trekked into her office, saying that if she didn’t have classes to teach, she might as well grade papers. Truthfully, the snowfall had been much less than was predicted, and Julie was sure there were pissed off parents all over the state who were now stuck at home with their kids.
Matt sat in the armchair across from her, his feet resting on the coffee table while he typed at warp speed. Julie dropped her book into her lap. She just couldn’t get into study mode, and the idea of blowing off her work for the day was gaining appeal by the minute.
“Matt? I’m bored.” She glared at him as he kept typing. “Matty?” He didn’t respond, and it aggravated Julie that he could be so narrowly focused on his computer that the rest of the world ceased to exist. Julie took her laptop from the table. She’d have to take a different approach. E-mail.
Dear Matthew Watkins,
Whatcha doing? I’m bored. Let’s build a snowman. Or a snow…a snow…a snow magnetic field formula!
Sincerely,
Julie Seagle
Julie sat back and waited until Matt’s e-mail sounded. Unlike the rest of the world, he didn’t jump to see what Nigerian prince had bequeathed him millions of dollars or which company had a special offer promising to save him piles of cash on his next order of male enhancement products. Maybe he didn’t need either. Well, good for him.
“Aren’t you going to check your e-mail?” she asked loudly.
“Why?” he muttered.
“It could be an invitation to speak at some exciting math event. Or the long-lost love of your life writing to say that she is desperate to win back your affections.”
“I’m sure it’s both of those,” Matt said, but she saw him click the touchpad.
She watched him as he read her note, expressionless, and then typed for a few seconds. Now her e-mail sounded.
Dear Julie Seagle,
While there are a number of charming magnetic formulas to choose from, I have concerns about constructing a concept. I was thinking something more along the lines of replicating the Large Hadron Collider.
You in?
Sincerely,
Matthew Watkins
Julie let out an exaggerated sigh.
Dear Disagreeable One,
I’ll meet your counter offer of the Large Hadron Collider and raise you the addition of a snow Clive Owen.
You in?
Slightly less sincerely,
Julie Seagle
P.S. Sorry. I’m sure you don’t know who Clive Owen is. Just play along.
P.P.S. Just because you have on that bulky sweatshirt doesn’t mean that I don’t know you’re wearing a stupid, geeky T-shirt underneath it.
Matt read her e-mail without looking up and smiled.
Dear Wardrobe Assessor,
I’m in.
Still sincerely,
Matthew Watkins
P.S. I do not have on a “stupid, geeky T-shirt.”
Julie marched over to Matt. She stood in front of him and crossed her arms. “Lift up your sweatshirt.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “God, you really know how to turn a guy on.”
Julie didn’t budge. “If I were trying to turn you on, I could do better than that. Now, lift up your sweatshirt.”
Matt looked up at her and tried to look serious. “Julie, I’m completely offended that you have so little faith in my honesty. I thought at this point in our friendship that you would at least—”
“Get up.” Julie leaned over and shut his laptop. “Get up!” she said again.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Matt said, laughing, but he stood up. “I trust you implicitly, and it wouldn’t kill you to show me the same respect.”
“Show me!”
Matt sidestepped the chair and took a few steps backward. “You have quite the attitude today. Suspicious and mean.”
Julie took a step forward, causing Matt to continue backing away. “Lift up your shirt.”
“Look, I appreciate an aggressive woman, but this is really getting weird.”
Julie grabbed his sweatshirt by the waist cuff and lifted it up with one hand as she pulled down his T-shirt with the other. Matt put his hands over hers, lightly protesting, but she refused to let go. “Aha!” She squinted at his shirt. “OK, I don’t even know what this is, but it’s definitely geeky.”
Matt’s hands were still on hers, but he’d given up trying to hide his shirt. “It’s a representation of a caffeine molecule. You should love it, considering your addiction to those horrible drinks you’re obsessed with. Although they can’t really be considered true coffee. How can you like those? A real coffee aficionado would drink espresso, or an Americano, or—”
“Don’t try and change the subject. And I’m not having the coffee argument with you again, by the way.”
“It’s not an argument. I have an opinion on what you drink, and I have a right to express that I think it’s disgusting—”
Julie groaned. “Oh my God, stop talking!”
“So I should stand here silently while you ridicule my clothing choices?” Matt held her look for a few moments before tightening his hands around hers, pushing his sweatshirt back down. “Not terribly fair.”
They stood unmoving. “I suppose not,” Julie finally admitted. “But your shirt is still hideously lame.” She looked at his hands, holding hers against his chest. “You can let go now.”
“Oh. Of course.” Matt let go and stepped back. “Sorry.”
The house phone rang, cutting sharply through the silence.
Matt went into the kitchen to get the phone while Julie took her seat back on the couch. She yanked the hair tie from around her wrist and pushed her hair back into a ponytail, noting the moisture at the nape of her neck. Final exams were right around the corner, for God’s sake, and here she was messing around on what should be a productive day. She should really use this snow day to get work done.
She heard Matt clear his throat in the other room. “Yes. I’ll be right there.” He returned to the living room. “I have to go to a meeting at Celeste’s school, so the snow-building activities will have to wait.”
Julie frowned. “Everything all right?”
“It’s just a scheduled meeting.”
“Oh, OK.” Julie halfheartedly picked up her book and then dropped it to her lap. “Wait a minute. Why are you going to the meeting? Where’s your mom?”
“She forgot about it, and when they called her, she asked them to call me. So I’m going to go. It’s not a big deal.”
Julie stood up. “I could come with you, if you want.”
“No. Stay here. Get some work done.”
“I spend a lot of time with Celeste, so maybe I could help. Besides, you shouldn’t have to do this alone. It’s not really your job.” She crossed the room to the front hallway and grabbed her coat off the hook. “Come on. We have to shovel the car out before we’re going anywhere.”
“Julie, really, you shouldn’t come. It’ll be a boring meeting. It’s not a big deal.”
“Let me give you a little moral support here, OK? I’m coming.” Julie zipped her coat and put on fleece mittens.
Matt didn’t budge from his spot. “I’d rather you not.”
“I’d rather I did.”
“It’s just that—”
“Stop talking and start shoveling. I’m coming.”
Matt cracked a smile. “Bossy, bossy.”
Julie crossed her legs and did her best not to sneer at Mr. Alberta, the guidance counselor. Bastard, she thought. This guy totally didn’t get Celeste.
Mr. Alberta leaned back in his leather swivel chair and patted the bald spot on top of his head. The man had patted his head eight times so far (Julie was counting) in an irksome nervous tic. Julie didn’t like his green plaid shirt or his wrinkled khaki pants, both of which seemed an overzealous effort to appear casual and approachable. She didn’t buy it, and it didn’t help that his eyes kept darting around the room as though he was afraid to look at either her or Matt. He should be afraid, Julie thought, considering that he was flinging insults about Celeste left and right. Tremendous difficulty with peers, both male and female. Virtually no attempts to engage in social interactions and inappropriate responses to the rare initiative from another student. Why had he not acknowledged one positive trait? How about the fact that Celeste could do her schoolwork in her sleep? That she was smart as a whip, and interesting, and unique? Did he not notice that she was scared and defenseless and…and so what if she wasn’t like every other kid at school? Julie didn’t like this man.
Mr. Alberta suddenly flung himself forward. “Here’s the thing, Matthew. The school thinks that Celeste may not be equipped to attend Barnaby. It’s becoming clear that we cannot meet her needs.”
Matt was sitting bolt upright, his face hardened and serious. “Her grades are excellent. Stellar, in fact.”
The guidance counselor nodded. “Absolutely. It’s not a question of her academic abilities, Matthew. It’s her social development that concerns us.”
“She’s making progress,” Matt said unconvincingly.
“I understand the challenges of the Finn situation. With him out of the picture—”
“I know the situation, Mr. Alberta,” Matt said quickly.
“I was really hoping to speak to your parents about this,” the counselor said awkwardly. “Given what an important role you play in Celeste’s life, and your age, I agreed to meet with you, but this is not how I would prefer to handle this. Matthew, here is what it boils down to. I’m not sure what else we can offer Celeste. The truth is that she doesn’t have friends. Any. Her social exchanges are markedly odd, and she displays little interest in improving on them. She is withdrawn from her peers and seemingly operating on another plane. I’m sorry to say it like that, but it is the case. I realize we are dealing with delicate matters, but I’m quite concerned about her.”
“Well, what is it that you suggest we do?” Matthew did not shift his position, but his voice now had a hard edge to it. “How about we take my sister out of here and lock her up in a boarding school for crazy girls? Does that sound like an appealing possibility to you? I’m sure Celeste would thrive. What a good way to get her out of her shell.”
“Her shell? Oh, Matthew, is that how you see it? Celeste has more than a shell. There is a whole host of complicated defense systems and coping mechanisms at work here—”
“I have an idea,” Julie cut in. “I, uh, I think I have an idea. Let’s not make any rash decisions right now. Mr. Alberta, can you give her six months?”
“Ms. Seagle, I appreciate your being here. Really I do. I can see you care about Celeste’s well-being, but six months is a long time.”
“No, it’s really not a long time. She isn’t hurting anybody or infringing on any other students’ academic experience, correct?”
He nodded begrudgingly.
“So just give it some time. We can get her moving in the right direction. This is all a temporary problem anyway.”
“Temporary?” Mr. Alberta tossed Celeste’s file onto the desk in front of him. “I’m not sure we can define this as temporary.”
“Julie, let’s go.” Matt got up from his chair and stormed out of the office.
Julie reluctantly got up. She looked pleadingly at Mr. Alberta. “Six months. A lot can happen in six months. She needs time.”
Mr. Alberta was quiet for a moment while he considered Julie’s request. “Sure. Six months.”
Julie shook his hand, now nervous herself. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She tucked her coat over her arm. “Celeste is a really good kid, you know?”
He nodded. “I do know that. I like her. It’s just with everything that’s gone on…I worry about her.”
Julie nodded. Maybe he wasn’t such a monster after all? “I had better go after Matt. Thanks again.” Julie turned and rushed down the hallway, catching up with Matt just as he slammed Barnaby’s front door wide open. “Matt? Are you all right?”
“Not particularly, no. I wouldn’t describe that as a successful school meeting, would you?” He stormed down the front steps, and Julie hurried to keep up with him. Suddenly he stopped short, and Julie smashed into his back.
“Sorry.” Julie rubbed her nose.
“Wait a minute. What else did he say in there?” Matt demanded. “What did he tell you about Celeste?”
“Only that they’ll give her some more time to pull it together. That’s good, right?”
“I suppose.” Matt started walking again. “And what’s this idea that you say you have?”
“It’s just a start, but hear me out.”
They reached the car, and Julie sketched out her thoughts to Matt on the drive home.
“I think that’s a terrible plan. Celeste will never go for it,” he said. He turned up the hard rock station so that Julie would practically have to yell to be heard.
She stared out the window. “She might,” Julie said hopefully. The sky had clouded over, and the energy she’d had this morning was beginning to fade. She turned down the radio. “Really. She might.”
“No.” Despite his unflinching expression, Julie could hear the fear in his voice. “She’s too fragile.”
“She’s fragile because you let her be fragile.”
“Julie, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” He was angry now. “You can’t begin to understand what she’s going through.”
“Then tell me,” Julie spat back.
“No. Some things are private.”
“God, what is wrong with you people? Don’t you want to help her?”
“Julie, stop. Now.”
“Why? Why won’t anybody talk about this? Even Finn won’t tell me.”
“Finn again, huh?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Julie folded her arms and continued to look away.
“You’ve been talking about him all week as if he’s some kind of gift to humanity. Pretty soon you’ll have your own Flat Finn to cart around, right? You and Celeste will have a Finn fan club, with membership dues and monthly newsletters detailing how fantastic he is.”
“What exactly is your problem?”
“Nothing,” Matt muttered. “You should probably stay out of this.”
“How am I supposed to stay out of this? I’m with Celeste more than anyone. She needs someone to help her.”
“I know.” Matt cranked the music back up. “I know she does.”