of economics and his last dying words in the ambulance were “stupid candygram”?
I shook my head. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered mostly to myself and handed back the clipboard and the lone Lincoln in my wallet. I didn’t sign the card.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to. Jeannette burst into class just after lunch and rattled her delivery bag with a sing-songy “Caaannnndyyyygrammmmms.” She was one of those mostly unremarkable, middle-of-the-pyramid-type cheerleaders, with fake highlights and an unnaturally huge, fake smile.
As she started to pass out the candy in her annoyingly high-pitched, fake sickly sweet voice, “Onesie-twosie….” I couldn’t help counting just how much cash the squad made off my class alone. Shit, maybe I should get boobs and sell chocolate.
I watched Billy carefully, seeing his pale blue, almond-shaped eyes narrow just a bit beneath the messy brown mop of bangs covering his forehead as Jeanette moved closer, sashaying down our row. His gift arrived in a horrid pink cellophane bag, with a hearts-and-flowers gift tag I read with trepidation:
“To: Billy Roth. From: A Secret Admirer !”
Shit!
A S WE walked home, Billy wouldn’t shut up about it.
“Who do you think it is? Is it Carol? You know, the one with the big…. Oh, I wonder if it’s Jenny. You know, she had that crush on me back in third grade when she told me I had cooties. Ugh. I hope it’s not Myrtle. Who names their kid Myrtle these days anyway? You think it’s a family name? Hell, I’d never name my kid after family. We got too many B-names already. Hey! Maybe it was Becky!” He chattered on excitedly, paying no attention to how many times I rolled my eyes or said something noncommittal. We got about halfway home before he lost steam and chucked his shoulder against mine. “What’s eating you, man? Not like you to be so quiet. Are you pissed you didn’t get a candygram?”
“Nothing, and no .” I rolled my eyes again to emphasize the last word. “Geez, would you shut up about it already? It was just some crappy chocolate. If I’d known you were gonna freak out so much, I’d have never sent the damn thing!” He stopped, but I kept walking. What was I going to say? Uh, sorry, I didn’t actually send it. Oh wait, I did, I just didn’t expect to tell you about it.
He jogged up to me anyway and chucked my shoulder again, laughing. “Oh, I get it. You were pranking me, making me think I’d got a secret admirer so you could laugh at all the dumb shit I’d do, right?”
This time it was my turn to stop, grabbing him and turning him to face me. “No, Billy.” I sighed mournfully, “It wasn’t a prank, okay? I sent you the damn candy, and I was too chicken to sign the card. Can we let it go?”
He looked confused. “’Cause… ’cause you didn’t want me to think you liked me? Dude, we’re best friends.”
“No, you idiot, because I didn’t want you to know that I do like you. Now can we just go home?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah. Home.” He didn’t stop frowning the rest of the walk down our street. Without a word, he turned and went straight up his driveway, no offer to hang out or do homework. He didn’t even ask if we’d play ball later.
I trudged upstairs to my room and on the way took a good look at all the decorations my mom kept around. The pictures of me. And Billy. Birthday parties, basketball games, playing in my room, even trips to the zoo; inevitably, wherever I was, so was he, and the reflection of my life on the walls attested to that. On my bed was an envelope taped to a small box. My mother’s customary offering on Valentine’s Day. I flipped the corner of my covers over it and settled in to try and figure out calculus.
A FTER DINNER came a knock on the door. It was Billy. “Hey, Ms. K. Happy Valentine’s. Is Toby here?”
I adore my mother. She’s sweet and kind, and in that moment, I really wished she wasn’t. She could have told him it was too
I shook my head. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered mostly to myself and handed back the clipboard and the lone Lincoln in my wallet. I didn’t sign the card.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to. Jeannette burst into class just after lunch and rattled her delivery bag with a sing-songy “Caaannnndyyyygrammmmms.” She was one of those mostly unremarkable, middle-of-the-pyramid-type cheerleaders, with fake highlights and an unnaturally huge, fake smile.
As she started to pass out the candy in her annoyingly high-pitched, fake sickly sweet voice, “Onesie-twosie….” I couldn’t help counting just how much cash the squad made off my class alone. Shit, maybe I should get boobs and sell chocolate.
I watched Billy carefully, seeing his pale blue, almond-shaped eyes narrow just a bit beneath the messy brown mop of bangs covering his forehead as Jeanette moved closer, sashaying down our row. His gift arrived in a horrid pink cellophane bag, with a hearts-and-flowers gift tag I read with trepidation:
“To: Billy Roth. From: A Secret Admirer !”
Shit!
A S WE walked home, Billy wouldn’t shut up about it.
“Who do you think it is? Is it Carol? You know, the one with the big…. Oh, I wonder if it’s Jenny. You know, she had that crush on me back in third grade when she told me I had cooties. Ugh. I hope it’s not Myrtle. Who names their kid Myrtle these days anyway? You think it’s a family name? Hell, I’d never name my kid after family. We got too many B-names already. Hey! Maybe it was Becky!” He chattered on excitedly, paying no attention to how many times I rolled my eyes or said something noncommittal. We got about halfway home before he lost steam and chucked his shoulder against mine. “What’s eating you, man? Not like you to be so quiet. Are you pissed you didn’t get a candygram?”
“Nothing, and no .” I rolled my eyes again to emphasize the last word. “Geez, would you shut up about it already? It was just some crappy chocolate. If I’d known you were gonna freak out so much, I’d have never sent the damn thing!” He stopped, but I kept walking. What was I going to say? Uh, sorry, I didn’t actually send it. Oh wait, I did, I just didn’t expect to tell you about it.
He jogged up to me anyway and chucked my shoulder again, laughing. “Oh, I get it. You were pranking me, making me think I’d got a secret admirer so you could laugh at all the dumb shit I’d do, right?”
This time it was my turn to stop, grabbing him and turning him to face me. “No, Billy.” I sighed mournfully, “It wasn’t a prank, okay? I sent you the damn candy, and I was too chicken to sign the card. Can we let it go?”
He looked confused. “’Cause… ’cause you didn’t want me to think you liked me? Dude, we’re best friends.”
“No, you idiot, because I didn’t want you to know that I do like you. Now can we just go home?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah. Home.” He didn’t stop frowning the rest of the walk down our street. Without a word, he turned and went straight up his driveway, no offer to hang out or do homework. He didn’t even ask if we’d play ball later.
I trudged upstairs to my room and on the way took a good look at all the decorations my mom kept around. The pictures of me. And Billy. Birthday parties, basketball games, playing in my room, even trips to the zoo; inevitably, wherever I was, so was he, and the reflection of my life on the walls attested to that. On my bed was an envelope taped to a small box. My mother’s customary offering on Valentine’s Day. I flipped the corner of my covers over it and settled in to try and figure out calculus.
A FTER DINNER came a knock on the door. It was Billy. “Hey, Ms. K. Happy Valentine’s. Is Toby here?”
I adore my mother. She’s sweet and kind, and in that moment, I really wished she wasn’t. She could have told him it was too
Similar Books
