We cross Whitefish Bay Road and head down Eastminster, where the houses are spaced football fields apart, with lawns large enough to host a polo match. The silence out here is profound, but not oppressive, and the only sound is that of our breath and footsteps.
Although the moon’s not yet risen, we can still see clearly because the stars are lighting up the sky like a handful of diamonds spilled across a swath of indigo blue velvet. Gazing up, I seek out the Pleiades, also known as the Seven Sisters, which is my favorite fall constellation because it’s so luminous. The ancient Greeks used to know it was time to sail again when they’d see this star cluster appear. Only the six brightest stars are visible with the unaided eye, but the myth is that virgins can see seven.
Braden used to joke at astronomy camp that he and I could see all seven. Remembering this feels bittersweet.
“So...back to Stephen,” Simone prompts. “What’s that all about?”
I explain, “You’ve already figured out that he’s high-strung. This time of year is especially bad because he totally freaks around midterms. Like if there were a giant Easy button on the wall? He’d hurl himself against it to make everything better. Plus there’s the whole factor of his mom. Mrs. Cho is kinda relentless. You know; you’ve witnessed her in action.”
She laughs. “Um, yes. Believe me, we’ll never place our fallen leaves in plastic bags instead of paper again. I mean, we are sort of idiots when it comes to neighborhood stuff, so I understand why she’s been merciless with us. But why’s she like that with poor Stephen?”
“Eh, maybe she feels like she’s gotta be extra-hard on him because his dad is always away on consulting engagements?”
“I guess. Still, your dad travels all the time and your mum is equally bossy, no offense—”
“None taken.”
“And I don’t see you regularly freaking out,” she finishes.
I shrug. “True dat. I’m better at managing her expectations. Like tonight? I told her I was going to a party and she insisted I wear a tennis sweater. A tennis sweater. I’m sorry, is it suddenly 1984? Is Jake Ryan gonna be there? But I didn’t argue, I said, ‘Great call,’ and just pulled it on. Then I borrowed this NWA T-shirt from Stephen when I got to his house. She was satisfied, I didn’t have to spend the effort arguing, and now I’m not showing up at a party dressed like a villain in a John Hughes movie. Problem solved.” I point to the hateful garment currently tied around my waist.
(Mental note: put sweater back on before going home.)
“Why can’t Stephen try that?”
“Because he doesn’t want to. What he wants is to change the way things are instead of accepting reality and finding a way to navigate around it. With someone as strong-willed as Mrs. Cho, that’s never gonna work. You can’t charge at her head-on. It’s like bullfighting. You can’t be all, ‘Come at me, bro’ because the bull’s got more brute force. Gotta dance with your red cape, gotta finesse the bull. Outsmart him. Distract him. What our boy doesn’t realize is he’s just like his mom, just as stubborn, equally unrelenting, unwilling to compromise. He wants to go mano a mano with the bull and the bull’s always gonna win because its strength is so disparate.”
“Does he listen to you when you tell him this?”
“No, never has. He insists on running into brick walls and then gets mad every time he discovers that the wall’s so damn hard and solid. He’d rather bemoan how unfair it is that the wall exists, than dig under or climb over. As his friend, it’s frustrating to stand there and say ‘Dude, there’s a door in the middle of the wall—just go through that instead,’ and he won’t because he’s too wrapped up in being angry the wall was ever built.”
“Poor Stephen, that sounds exhausting.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why he’s always stressed. This year’s worse than usual with our MIT early action apps hanging over our heads. He has his paperwork completed, but he’s all panic at the disco about the face-to-face with an alumnus interview next week. He was so psyched when they scheduled the interview but now that it’s coming up, it’s become too real. He’s worried he’ll crash and burn in front of someone. He says he presents better on paper.”
“Then how do we convince him that it’s okay to use the door?”
“You tell me. I’ve been struggling with that question ever since we met at Montessori when we were three.”
“You know what would help him so much right now?” she asks.
“What’s that?”
“A BEER. I understand that America’s a lot more stringent about youth and liquor, but if anyone needed an alcoholic beverage... I mean, damn.”
“I feel ya.”
We walk in silence for a couple of minutes.
“Hey, Simone?”
“Uh-huh?”
I can’t look her in the eye as I pose my question. “They’re not going to kick my geek ass like in a shitty ’80s movie, right?”
“I’ve got your back,” she promises, giving me a quick shoulder hug, and I believe her.
Yes, I made the right call, Stephen be damned. I can’t figure it all out for him; he’s gotta want to do it for himself. And this party is going to be great. Way better than playing World of Warcraft, anyway. Maybe this night won’t change my life, but I feel it’s a big step in that direction.
She adds, “As long as you stop saying Tunaverse.”
20
STEPHEN
They’d be sorry.
If that car had hit me, Kent and Simone would have been so sorry.
Or would they?
Would they even care?
Real friends don’t make you do the kind of thing that’s destined to fail, that scares you to death. Real friends don’t abandon you. Real friends are there for you. Real friends aren’t all later, dude when you’re clearly in distress. Real friends chase after you. Real friends ask what’s wrong and listen as you explain and then try to make you feel better.
Tonight was a test and Kent and Simone failed. Big time. They made it clear they only want me around if I’m being “cool,” if I’m low-maintenance, laughing and joking and, like, riffing on Biggie. But I can’t be up all the time. It’s hard for me to be “on” sometimes. Or, a lot of times.
I should have known Kent would be a traitor. That’s his nature. Look at how he went to astronomy camp without me TWICE. The first time, my mom decided I was too young for sleepaway camp and the second time, I had to bail because my grandfather was sick. What bullshit. That camp was my idea—he wanted to go to computer camp! Then I barely heard from him either summer, and whenever I did, his emails were nothing but Braden and I this, Owen and I that, Braden said, “I enjoy constellations, I mean it, I am being Sirius.”
Freaking lame.
So I worked on my own awesome pun that second summer. When he came back I told him, “I bought Stephen Hawking’s new book on antigravity and I just can’t put it down.” He looked at me and shrugged and said he hadn’t seen it; he was too busy to read at camp. He didn’t get the joke. I’m surprised he even deigned to hang out with me after his perfect BFF summers with Owen and Braden were over.
What’s so ironic is that for the past few weeks, Kent’s been super distressed about Braden, agonizing if there was something he could have done.