permission and just ask, Paulie. Just don’t ask me
anything that would make me cry. Today has sucked enough already.”
“You’re better than him.”
“You suck,” she says, regretting her invitation
immediately. “I fricking know that. I don’t need to hear it from anyone else.
And you don’t have a lot of welcome to wear out.”
“I mean it. You’re better than them. All of them.”
She pauses for a second. Paulie, even with his
strangeness, is the only person who has truly been nice to her recently. Her
heart warms towards him. She feels comfortable with him, like she can be
herself around him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute in a nerdy sort of way. And
at this moment, she really wants someone to talk to.
Finally she sighs and says, “I thought being with
him to get back at them would feel different.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“That you got hurt.”
She doesn’t want to acknowledge his pity. Why
should he pity her? “My friends abandoning me hurt a lot more than empty sex,”
she says.
“Oh…?”
“My ex-friends, I should say. Whereas Tommy…” she trails
off, thinking about Tommy’s hands, warm on her legs. “He wasn’t that bad.”
“I wouldn’t think he would be,” Paulie mumbles.
“You know…” she says, almost to herself. “It was
different from what I expected. It happened like I wasn’t even there. I was
watching myself sitting there, lying there. My mouth was moving, but I don’t
really know what I was saying. I recall what happened in complete silence, not
actually hearing the words out loud. Most of it was lies about physical
feelings and attraction. Things that I thought I was supposed to say but didn’t
really matter.”
Paulie’s whole demeanor has changed. “You had sex
with him,” he says.
Margarette is more than surprised. Didn’t he
believe she already had, like everyone else at the party? “I did. I thought I
might have a crush on him for a second, but it wasn’t much sex… or sex at all. We
just fooled around. It took him longer to get his pants down than for us to
finish.”
“Margarette…. He doesn’t deserve you,” Paulie says.
“He’ll never have me again is more like it.” Her
voice unexpectedly breaks, to her embarrassment.
Paulie looks up pretending he didn’t pick up on
anything. “I like the trees outside,” he says. “The flowers are beautiful.”
“They’re magnolias.”
She lets him stay over until the sun starts to
set. They talk about other things. Paulie discovers she likes reading novels.
As he leaves, he pulls a book with only numbers for a title—7734—out of his
backpack. It happens to be a book by the writer her cousin had mentioned.
“Here, you can borrow this,” he offers. He
explains it’s about a kid that goes crazy, which wasn’t typically her favorite
type of book, but she had nothing else that was new.
Then he leaves, both feeling a little bit better,
each having used the other in a strange, sad way.
Margarette finishes the book that night, staying
up late, not sleeping much and barely gets to school on time the next morning.
***
School on Tuesday is horrible. She feels she’s
grossly stared at and examined by the entire school. It’s like a joke that has
gone on entirely too long.
And then it happens. Sometime before noon, the
second gust of gossip turns the breeze of a rumor into a full-scale wind storm,
and people are discussing her even in the field house. They have mixed up the
details of where, but the gist of the story is accurate. Somehow they even know
about the red shoes. How incredible that one detail would stick while the where
and how fade.
Margarette has no idea how they found out. As far
as she knows, only Coach Swane had seen her with Tommy, but he never called her
in as he had threatened. She even walked past him in the hall and he didn’t
react differently or even acknowledge her. That only left Tommy. That bastard ,
she thinks. He must
anything that would make me cry. Today has sucked enough already.”
“You’re better than him.”
“You suck,” she says, regretting her invitation
immediately. “I fricking know that. I don’t need to hear it from anyone else.
And you don’t have a lot of welcome to wear out.”
“I mean it. You’re better than them. All of them.”
She pauses for a second. Paulie, even with his
strangeness, is the only person who has truly been nice to her recently. Her
heart warms towards him. She feels comfortable with him, like she can be
herself around him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute in a nerdy sort of way. And
at this moment, she really wants someone to talk to.
Finally she sighs and says, “I thought being with
him to get back at them would feel different.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“That you got hurt.”
She doesn’t want to acknowledge his pity. Why
should he pity her? “My friends abandoning me hurt a lot more than empty sex,”
she says.
“Oh…?”
“My ex-friends, I should say. Whereas Tommy…” she trails
off, thinking about Tommy’s hands, warm on her legs. “He wasn’t that bad.”
“I wouldn’t think he would be,” Paulie mumbles.
“You know…” she says, almost to herself. “It was
different from what I expected. It happened like I wasn’t even there. I was
watching myself sitting there, lying there. My mouth was moving, but I don’t
really know what I was saying. I recall what happened in complete silence, not
actually hearing the words out loud. Most of it was lies about physical
feelings and attraction. Things that I thought I was supposed to say but didn’t
really matter.”
Paulie’s whole demeanor has changed. “You had sex
with him,” he says.
Margarette is more than surprised. Didn’t he
believe she already had, like everyone else at the party? “I did. I thought I
might have a crush on him for a second, but it wasn’t much sex… or sex at all. We
just fooled around. It took him longer to get his pants down than for us to
finish.”
“Margarette…. He doesn’t deserve you,” Paulie says.
“He’ll never have me again is more like it.” Her
voice unexpectedly breaks, to her embarrassment.
Paulie looks up pretending he didn’t pick up on
anything. “I like the trees outside,” he says. “The flowers are beautiful.”
“They’re magnolias.”
She lets him stay over until the sun starts to
set. They talk about other things. Paulie discovers she likes reading novels.
As he leaves, he pulls a book with only numbers for a title—7734—out of his
backpack. It happens to be a book by the writer her cousin had mentioned.
“Here, you can borrow this,” he offers. He
explains it’s about a kid that goes crazy, which wasn’t typically her favorite
type of book, but she had nothing else that was new.
Then he leaves, both feeling a little bit better,
each having used the other in a strange, sad way.
Margarette finishes the book that night, staying
up late, not sleeping much and barely gets to school on time the next morning.
***
School on Tuesday is horrible. She feels she’s
grossly stared at and examined by the entire school. It’s like a joke that has
gone on entirely too long.
And then it happens. Sometime before noon, the
second gust of gossip turns the breeze of a rumor into a full-scale wind storm,
and people are discussing her even in the field house. They have mixed up the
details of where, but the gist of the story is accurate. Somehow they even know
about the red shoes. How incredible that one detail would stick while the where
and how fade.
Margarette has no idea how they found out. As far
as she knows, only Coach Swane had seen her with Tommy, but he never called her
in as he had threatened. She even walked past him in the hall and he didn’t
react differently or even acknowledge her. That only left Tommy. That bastard ,
she thinks. He must
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