Oh, no, oh, no.
Kate was as wound up as a violin string. “It’ll be so much fun!” she squealed. “And just think, Holly. You can get to know Stein better this way. I’ll make sure you share his snowmobile. I think he wants it that way, anyhow. He likes you.”
“I know Stein as well as I need to,” I said. “I’ve been in homeroom with him since September seventh, and if there’s one thing we feature down in that prison it’s intimacy.”
“Holly,” said Kate, getting annoyed. She sounded like my babysitter. I began to identify with Christopher’s feelings toward her. “Holly, Stein likes you. ” Intensely, as if we were discussing something important. “Anybody can see that,” Kate went on. “If you’d just put some effort into it, you could get Stein to ask you out. And—there’s nobody better in the whole senior class!”
There’s somebody better in the junior class, I thought. “So drop Gary,” I said, being mean, “and go after Stein.”
Kate said nothing. I was ashamed of myself again. “I’m sorry, Katie,” I said. “It’s just that I don’t have anything much to say to Pete Stein. I like him okay. He’s a fine person. But—”
“At some time in your life,” screamed Kate into the phone, “you have to exert yourself. You can’t always hang around waiting for things to come to you. Sometimes you have to go after them, Holly. Why can’t you try learning about the things Stein likes? Why can’t you go to his next game and cheer for him?”
Why couldn’t Stein learn how to build miniature firescreens? Why couldn’t Stein become involved with afternoon television? Why couldn’t Stein sit around buttering his salad? “I guess I could do that,” I said morosely.
Kate tried to whip up a little enthusiasm describing the glories of Swann’s Wood in January, but I had already had that nature series from Stein himself. Why should I have to change to be attractive? I thought. Why can’t I just be me? Why pretend to be interested? Why fake enthusiasm?
But then I remembered that the real me was getting nothing but zeroes this season. School, coordination, boys, and college applications.
Perhaps what was required here was a new Holly Carroll. A swinging, athletic, enthusiastic, exciting Holly, paired with the best man in the senior class.
I pictured, instead, the best man in the junior class. Hunched over a muffin at the Pew, drinking in that beautiful sight of Nature at her best—butter melting.
I had never even thought of steam engines before Jamie mentioned his, but I’d been instantly interested.
“…by ten o’clock in the morning,” said Kate very firmly. I began to see a future for her in government, ramming unwanted programs down people’s throats. “Be dressed properly, Holly.”
“Okay,” I said. “It’ll be great.” I thought of eight miles of frigid woods, and me on the seat of a snowmobile, the windchill factor molding my cheeks into new shapes. “Terrific,” I told Kate. “I need the fresh air.”
“Forget the fresh air,” said Kate. “Concentrate on Stein.”
Fourteen
M Y MOTHER THOUGHT ALL this sounded like marvelous fun, and she smiled with delight thinking about the wonderful time I would have on my winter picnic. She even borrowed a snowmobile outfit (which is just a stylish adult-size snowsuit) from a friend of hers so I’d be properly dressed for the great adventure. The snow-suit was enormously bulky, a muddy pink color with lavender, white, and rose slashes down the leggings. Only color-blind people could even think about wearing it. I put it on and stared down at my doubled waist size.
“You look like a pro football player,” said Christopher.
My father more or less rolled me into the car to take me to Kate’s and embarrassed me horribly by hanging around to chat with everyone about drugs. He’s not very subtle. He’d heard the drug scene was getting bad again, and he wanted to know for sure so he buttonholed each of my
Kate was as wound up as a violin string. “It’ll be so much fun!” she squealed. “And just think, Holly. You can get to know Stein better this way. I’ll make sure you share his snowmobile. I think he wants it that way, anyhow. He likes you.”
“I know Stein as well as I need to,” I said. “I’ve been in homeroom with him since September seventh, and if there’s one thing we feature down in that prison it’s intimacy.”
“Holly,” said Kate, getting annoyed. She sounded like my babysitter. I began to identify with Christopher’s feelings toward her. “Holly, Stein likes you. ” Intensely, as if we were discussing something important. “Anybody can see that,” Kate went on. “If you’d just put some effort into it, you could get Stein to ask you out. And—there’s nobody better in the whole senior class!”
There’s somebody better in the junior class, I thought. “So drop Gary,” I said, being mean, “and go after Stein.”
Kate said nothing. I was ashamed of myself again. “I’m sorry, Katie,” I said. “It’s just that I don’t have anything much to say to Pete Stein. I like him okay. He’s a fine person. But—”
“At some time in your life,” screamed Kate into the phone, “you have to exert yourself. You can’t always hang around waiting for things to come to you. Sometimes you have to go after them, Holly. Why can’t you try learning about the things Stein likes? Why can’t you go to his next game and cheer for him?”
Why couldn’t Stein learn how to build miniature firescreens? Why couldn’t Stein become involved with afternoon television? Why couldn’t Stein sit around buttering his salad? “I guess I could do that,” I said morosely.
Kate tried to whip up a little enthusiasm describing the glories of Swann’s Wood in January, but I had already had that nature series from Stein himself. Why should I have to change to be attractive? I thought. Why can’t I just be me? Why pretend to be interested? Why fake enthusiasm?
But then I remembered that the real me was getting nothing but zeroes this season. School, coordination, boys, and college applications.
Perhaps what was required here was a new Holly Carroll. A swinging, athletic, enthusiastic, exciting Holly, paired with the best man in the senior class.
I pictured, instead, the best man in the junior class. Hunched over a muffin at the Pew, drinking in that beautiful sight of Nature at her best—butter melting.
I had never even thought of steam engines before Jamie mentioned his, but I’d been instantly interested.
“…by ten o’clock in the morning,” said Kate very firmly. I began to see a future for her in government, ramming unwanted programs down people’s throats. “Be dressed properly, Holly.”
“Okay,” I said. “It’ll be great.” I thought of eight miles of frigid woods, and me on the seat of a snowmobile, the windchill factor molding my cheeks into new shapes. “Terrific,” I told Kate. “I need the fresh air.”
“Forget the fresh air,” said Kate. “Concentrate on Stein.”
Fourteen
M Y MOTHER THOUGHT ALL this sounded like marvelous fun, and she smiled with delight thinking about the wonderful time I would have on my winter picnic. She even borrowed a snowmobile outfit (which is just a stylish adult-size snowsuit) from a friend of hers so I’d be properly dressed for the great adventure. The snow-suit was enormously bulky, a muddy pink color with lavender, white, and rose slashes down the leggings. Only color-blind people could even think about wearing it. I put it on and stared down at my doubled waist size.
“You look like a pro football player,” said Christopher.
My father more or less rolled me into the car to take me to Kate’s and embarrassed me horribly by hanging around to chat with everyone about drugs. He’s not very subtle. He’d heard the drug scene was getting bad again, and he wanted to know for sure so he buttonholed each of my
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