‘I never said she was nice,’ I defend myself weakly.
‘Maybe, but you’re worried that nice, smart-guy Luke, the boy who has been around here every night to spend time with you, is incapable of resisting Tall and Tanned just because she drives a nice car?’ Mom shovels the now-chocolate-less cookie in her mouth, dusts off her hands, and reaches for her wine glass.
‘It’s more the idea that she can leave the house, go on dates, hold his hand. Give him actual hugs and kisses. The car is really just a bonus,’ I venture cautiously. Mom likes to pretend that the only reason I don’t have any friends is that they’ve all been too busy to call – for almost four years.
‘Nor, I may be getting older, my sight is definitely not what it used to be, but I can see that Luke is a good-looking kid. If he wanted someone like the girl you’re describing, he’d have her already. You have to try and cut him some slack. At the very least, get your head asking the right questions, like why, if your mental health bothers him, does he keep coming back?’
That makes sense to me, but I can’t make it stick. It rolls over the top of my head the same way water rolls off a duck’s back. In my mind, Luke is at that party being reminded of everything he doesn’t have while he’s with me. I wonder how dazzling Amy’s dress is.
A knock at the door makes both Mom and me jump. A wave of pink wine rip-curls right out of her glass and splashes on her shirt. She uses her fingertips to wipe it away.
‘Are you expecting someone?’ I ask.
‘You mean besides Brad Pitt?’
‘Then it’s probably him.’
‘How’s my hair?’ Mom laughs as she climbs off the couch and heads for the door. She makes a ceremony of opening it and revealing our mystery visitor. ‘Ah. Norah, I think this Brad Pitt is for you.’
‘Hi, Mrs Dean.’ Luke. I clamber to my feet, trip over buckling Bambi legs as I make a dash for the door. The instant I see him, something in me goes slack. I sink, feel weightless, like I’m submerged in water. He looks dapper in his button-down with that stuff in his hair that makes it look wet. I’m so happy to see him. And then sirens screech in my head. Why am I seeing him? We agreed. He’s not supposed to be here.
‘Why aren’t you at the Fall Ball?’ My tone is clipped.
‘I think I’m gonna go and catch the rest of this movie in my room,’ Mom announces. She kisses me on the forehead and then trots off upstairs.
‘I was,’ he says. ‘But it was boring, so I bailed early.’ I check the clock that hangs above my grandma’s glass cabinet in the hall. It’s only 8.05. He left his house at 7.15. Cardinal is ten minutes away. He only stayed at the party for thirty minutes.
Oh, well. At least he didn’t break his promise, right? And he went. I did my part, didn’t hold him back. Plus, when your self-esteem has been as pummelled as mine, when there’s a guy standing on your front porch with a face made for film and a smile that makes you believe in magic, it’s way too easy to convince yourself that he hasn’t rushed home just to hang out with you. Like he said, the party must have been boring.
‘You wanna watch a movie?’ In his right hand he’s carrying a brown paper bag with the Mamma’s Maid Ice Cream Parlor logo printed on it.
‘Hmm, maybe. But I gotta warn you, my company doesn’t come cheap,’ I tease.
‘Oh yeah? What’s it going to cost me?’ His voice drops low, and a bomb explodes in the pit of my stomach.
‘One whole carton of ice cream,’ I say, flapping my lashes so hard a breeze starts blowing.
‘I’m in luck.’ He holds up the brown bag. Fears of him feeling shackled die. I stand aside and usher him in. I can’t wait to show him the monster movie I recorded.
Sometimes a thing that happens in cheesy horror movies is sex. I usually skip past those parts. Not because I’m a prude. It’s all that sweaty skin pushed together; it totally screws with my mind.
I could see it coming from a mile away. I should have suggested we turn it off when the two leads got trapped in a basement and started talking about taking their clothes off to avoid pneumonia.
‘Wow, that’s . . . erm . . .’ Luke tips his head to the side as the sex unfolding on screen takes an acrobatic turn for the worst. I sink like a stone into my seat. ‘Whoa! A head wound waiting to happen, that’s what that is.’ I laugh, despite my agonizing demise. Luke turns to me, clocks my cocooned body, and reaches for the remote. ‘We can probably skip past this part.’
‘Thank you,’ I say when he hits fast-forward.
Except the half-wolf/half-man and his female co-star keep going and going, only now it’s happening at super-speed.