what it was! You make it sound so mysterious. It’s probably something totally basic.”
Jim, shaking his head like he thought I was mental, started to roll another joint.
“I don’t want anymore,” Baker sighed, looking down at her toenails.
“Conley?” Jim asked, gesturing with the rolling papers.
“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“Cancer Boy?”
There was that same flare in my chest again. Why’d this football-playing shitheel get a girl like Baker—who was smart as hell and had an awesome rack and gave him a pass to be with other chicks on top of it? In no universe was this fair or sensible. But given the fact that I was terrible at thinking of good insults to say on the spot, and the weed was good, I just nodded. I’d passed the joint to Conley when Baker suddenly stood up, adjusted her bikini sort of roughly, and dove into the water, splashing Jim, and swimming back to shore without another word.
Dear Collette,
Since Dr. Penny doesn’t bother explaining to me the finer points of psychology and just has me do this stupid letter-writing thing, which makes me feel like a stalker and also miss you, if it’s possible to miss you, since we didn’t even know each other that well, and the thing I miss the most about you was watching you do the long jump.
And also your boobs. That second thing I would never say to you—or anyone else—in a letter or in person. But this won’t get sent, so what the hell, right?
Therefore, today’s bullshit topic: What have I learned from someone else lately?
What I have learned from someone else lately is that you have to remember your anniversary with your girlfriend or else your life is miserable. I learned this from a guy named Tom, who I would call a friend, since we hang out a lot, but a couple of the times were accidental, so maybe we’re just acquaintances. I don’t know the rules.
So, the anniversary part. This is the date from which a couple has been together from some significant start point. This start point depends on the girl. Like, she could decide it was the first time you talked. Or the first time you kissed. Or the first time you hung out or went on a date. Which Tom doesn’t have a clear memory of, or he’d have remembered, I suppose.
(For us, would it have been the first time you talked to me? But that was about Farrah. Which, by the way, I always wonder why they didn’t take anything out on Farrah? Wasn’t it all about Farrah and
Tate, in the first place? Or was it about you and Patrick? Or would it have been that first time when we skipped chapel? Maybe we don’t rate an anniversary, because we were a secret. Not that big of a secret, obviously, since someone must have seen us in the courtyard and told Patrick and Tate. Sorry I even brought this up.) Anyway. So Tom is hiding out in my room, and his girlfriend Kelly actually comes over to my house. I don’t answer the door, since Tom doesn’t want me to, because he says I’m a bad liar, which maybe is a good thing to have someone notice about you? Again, I don’t know anything about anything. I need a goddamn life handbook or something. Tom explains how Kelly gave him this scrapbook of pictures and he’s done nothing. Not even one of those awful roses from the gas station. Don’t feel bad that I never gave you anything, by the way.
I’ve never bought a girl anything. I’m kind of a dick on paper, as you might have picked up. Which might be why Dr. Penny makes me write this shit.
I wish I could say that there was a good resolution to this story, except there wasn’t. Tom hung around my house and watched baseball on TV and bitched about Kelly a lot, which is probably not the best thing to do for your anniversary. He left pretty late and told me he’d come by in the morning to go fishing. I hate fishing, but I’ve been going with him, because though he is a crappy boyfriend, Tom is all right. So that’s what I learned.
More later, Evan
----
ChaPter Six
On the
Jim, shaking his head like he thought I was mental, started to roll another joint.
“I don’t want anymore,” Baker sighed, looking down at her toenails.
“Conley?” Jim asked, gesturing with the rolling papers.
“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“Cancer Boy?”
There was that same flare in my chest again. Why’d this football-playing shitheel get a girl like Baker—who was smart as hell and had an awesome rack and gave him a pass to be with other chicks on top of it? In no universe was this fair or sensible. But given the fact that I was terrible at thinking of good insults to say on the spot, and the weed was good, I just nodded. I’d passed the joint to Conley when Baker suddenly stood up, adjusted her bikini sort of roughly, and dove into the water, splashing Jim, and swimming back to shore without another word.
Dear Collette,
Since Dr. Penny doesn’t bother explaining to me the finer points of psychology and just has me do this stupid letter-writing thing, which makes me feel like a stalker and also miss you, if it’s possible to miss you, since we didn’t even know each other that well, and the thing I miss the most about you was watching you do the long jump.
And also your boobs. That second thing I would never say to you—or anyone else—in a letter or in person. But this won’t get sent, so what the hell, right?
Therefore, today’s bullshit topic: What have I learned from someone else lately?
What I have learned from someone else lately is that you have to remember your anniversary with your girlfriend or else your life is miserable. I learned this from a guy named Tom, who I would call a friend, since we hang out a lot, but a couple of the times were accidental, so maybe we’re just acquaintances. I don’t know the rules.
So, the anniversary part. This is the date from which a couple has been together from some significant start point. This start point depends on the girl. Like, she could decide it was the first time you talked. Or the first time you kissed. Or the first time you hung out or went on a date. Which Tom doesn’t have a clear memory of, or he’d have remembered, I suppose.
(For us, would it have been the first time you talked to me? But that was about Farrah. Which, by the way, I always wonder why they didn’t take anything out on Farrah? Wasn’t it all about Farrah and
Tate, in the first place? Or was it about you and Patrick? Or would it have been that first time when we skipped chapel? Maybe we don’t rate an anniversary, because we were a secret. Not that big of a secret, obviously, since someone must have seen us in the courtyard and told Patrick and Tate. Sorry I even brought this up.) Anyway. So Tom is hiding out in my room, and his girlfriend Kelly actually comes over to my house. I don’t answer the door, since Tom doesn’t want me to, because he says I’m a bad liar, which maybe is a good thing to have someone notice about you? Again, I don’t know anything about anything. I need a goddamn life handbook or something. Tom explains how Kelly gave him this scrapbook of pictures and he’s done nothing. Not even one of those awful roses from the gas station. Don’t feel bad that I never gave you anything, by the way.
I’ve never bought a girl anything. I’m kind of a dick on paper, as you might have picked up. Which might be why Dr. Penny makes me write this shit.
I wish I could say that there was a good resolution to this story, except there wasn’t. Tom hung around my house and watched baseball on TV and bitched about Kelly a lot, which is probably not the best thing to do for your anniversary. He left pretty late and told me he’d come by in the morning to go fishing. I hate fishing, but I’ve been going with him, because though he is a crappy boyfriend, Tom is all right. So that’s what I learned.
More later, Evan
----
ChaPter Six
On the
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