under the booth of boys who had broken her heart.
I ordered Keefer fries and a shake, which I paid for with some of the money I’d saved. When he was done eating, he played with his action figures under the table.
“Shit,” Angela said suddenly, ducking her head.
“What?” I asked. “I don’t think there’s enough room under there for the two of you, although you’d know better than me.”
“Shut up,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to see them right now.”
“Who?”
I turned around and saw Luke and Trey standing at the counter, both in sweats that showed their bulges and wearing baseball caps backward.
“What, don’t want to see the future prom kings?”
“Not right now. And stop looking!”
“Trey is a nine, but Luke, Luke is an eleven. Although both of them together … ”
“Oh God,” Angela moaned. “Just shut up.”
“That would be a twenty. Could you imagine?”
The parts of her cheek I could see turned red.
“Are you blushing?” I laughed. “Have I created a mental image that makes even the unconquerably provocative Angela Adams blush?”
“Fuck off. Are they still there?”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to look?”
“Just don’t make it obvious.”
I looked just as they turned to leave, the bells ringing on the door.
“They got it to go,” I said.
Angela sat up and we watched them through the window as they got into Trey’s truck.
“Now that I’ve gotten a good look from the back,” I said, “I’m going to have to bump them each up a number.”
“They are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Angela sighed.
“I thought things were going well with you and Trey. Luke reeked like your perfume in English yesterday, so you must still be leaving your scent all over his house.”
Angela didn’t answer; she just stared through the glass after Luke and Trey.
“Let me guess, you’ve made your way through the team and found one you like better?” I laughed. “Oh, and did I tell you I’m seriously considering asking Luke to be my date to the Valentine’s dance? If only to see the look on his face.”
“Don’t, dude.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s retarded. It’s never going to happen.”
“A lot of people are afraid to say what they want,” I said, “so they don’t get it.”
Angela just rolled her eyes as Keefer came up and started playing with his Transformer on the edge of the table. Brooke refilled our waters, and when she walked away, Keefer turned to me and asked, “She’s a one, right, Jude?”
I turned to give Brooke a look-over behind the counter. “At first glance you might think so,” I said, “since she does have varicose veins in her cankles, a pancake ass, and dollar-store nail polish. But when you take into account not only the mole on her chin but the hair sticking out of it, you come to the only logical conclusion: this is a rare case, meriting a rating in negative numbers. But, hey, God bless the ugly bitch. Every movie needs a character actor.”
When Keefer and I got back from the Day-n-Nite, I was disappointed that there wasn’t a Cops camera crew in my front yard.
My mom and Ray were still fighting. I lost track of how long it’d been. It was so bad, I couldn’t even make it make-believe.
I went down to my room and stared at Luke’s grade one picture, which I’d tucked under the frame of my mirror. He looked adorable—a kid with big blue eyes and blond hair. He was missing a tooth and was still tan from summer. I thought how, if we had kids, I’d like them to look just like him. But then I realized how stupid that was, so I tried not to think it. Sometimes, though, I couldn’t help myself; I thought about stupid things, crazy stupid things that I knew would never actually happen, but which I thought about anyway because they filled me with hope—or delusion. But is that so bad? Sometimes you just have to keep fooling yourself or you’ll never survive.
Keefer came downstairs crying. I wanted to tell him
I ordered Keefer fries and a shake, which I paid for with some of the money I’d saved. When he was done eating, he played with his action figures under the table.
“Shit,” Angela said suddenly, ducking her head.
“What?” I asked. “I don’t think there’s enough room under there for the two of you, although you’d know better than me.”
“Shut up,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to see them right now.”
“Who?”
I turned around and saw Luke and Trey standing at the counter, both in sweats that showed their bulges and wearing baseball caps backward.
“What, don’t want to see the future prom kings?”
“Not right now. And stop looking!”
“Trey is a nine, but Luke, Luke is an eleven. Although both of them together … ”
“Oh God,” Angela moaned. “Just shut up.”
“That would be a twenty. Could you imagine?”
The parts of her cheek I could see turned red.
“Are you blushing?” I laughed. “Have I created a mental image that makes even the unconquerably provocative Angela Adams blush?”
“Fuck off. Are they still there?”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to look?”
“Just don’t make it obvious.”
I looked just as they turned to leave, the bells ringing on the door.
“They got it to go,” I said.
Angela sat up and we watched them through the window as they got into Trey’s truck.
“Now that I’ve gotten a good look from the back,” I said, “I’m going to have to bump them each up a number.”
“They are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Angela sighed.
“I thought things were going well with you and Trey. Luke reeked like your perfume in English yesterday, so you must still be leaving your scent all over his house.”
Angela didn’t answer; she just stared through the glass after Luke and Trey.
“Let me guess, you’ve made your way through the team and found one you like better?” I laughed. “Oh, and did I tell you I’m seriously considering asking Luke to be my date to the Valentine’s dance? If only to see the look on his face.”
“Don’t, dude.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s retarded. It’s never going to happen.”
“A lot of people are afraid to say what they want,” I said, “so they don’t get it.”
Angela just rolled her eyes as Keefer came up and started playing with his Transformer on the edge of the table. Brooke refilled our waters, and when she walked away, Keefer turned to me and asked, “She’s a one, right, Jude?”
I turned to give Brooke a look-over behind the counter. “At first glance you might think so,” I said, “since she does have varicose veins in her cankles, a pancake ass, and dollar-store nail polish. But when you take into account not only the mole on her chin but the hair sticking out of it, you come to the only logical conclusion: this is a rare case, meriting a rating in negative numbers. But, hey, God bless the ugly bitch. Every movie needs a character actor.”
When Keefer and I got back from the Day-n-Nite, I was disappointed that there wasn’t a Cops camera crew in my front yard.
My mom and Ray were still fighting. I lost track of how long it’d been. It was so bad, I couldn’t even make it make-believe.
I went down to my room and stared at Luke’s grade one picture, which I’d tucked under the frame of my mirror. He looked adorable—a kid with big blue eyes and blond hair. He was missing a tooth and was still tan from summer. I thought how, if we had kids, I’d like them to look just like him. But then I realized how stupid that was, so I tried not to think it. Sometimes, though, I couldn’t help myself; I thought about stupid things, crazy stupid things that I knew would never actually happen, but which I thought about anyway because they filled me with hope—or delusion. But is that so bad? Sometimes you just have to keep fooling yourself or you’ll never survive.
Keefer came downstairs crying. I wanted to tell him
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