The Spectacular Now
I pet her hair. “I’m just thinking. There’s something I haven’t told you about me either, something I’ve never told anyone else. But you have to promise you won’t hate me just like I promised you.”
She promises.
“You know how I told you my dad works at the top of the Chase building?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was lying. I’ve been lying about that to everybody since I was in grade school. Even to Ricky. The truth is I don’t even know where my dad is. After my mom kicked him out, he just disappeared. So I started pretending he was a big-shot executive. I pretended it so hard I almost started believing it myself, so maybe it’s only kind of a semi-lie.”
“You never heard from him again?”
“I think I got one birthday card from him a long time ago. But basically my mom threw him away, and now she’d like to throw me away. But that’s how the world is, you know. Everything’s disposable.”
She wraps her arm around my waist and lays her head on my chest. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll never throw you away.”
Chapter 47
Girls have the wrong idea about how guys are with their buddies. It’s like they think all we do is talk about sports and p**n , tell dirty jokes, and brag about our sexploits. Or lie about them. And, okay, a certain amount of that does go on, but if you have a best friend, you can go further. You can unlock all the rooms. Well, except one. I can’t tell anyone the story of Aimee and Randy-the-Walrus’s son.
But believe me, when I tell Ricky about having sex with Aimee, I’m not bragging. Bragging’s only for guys who never get it steady anyway. It’s disappointing, though, because Ricky doesn’t get me the way he usually does. He’s all like, “Dude, I thought you said you weren’t going there with this girl. I thought you were keeping this deal on the surface level. Now you’re boinking her?”
“It’s not like that,” I tell him. “It’s not a boink.”
“Really? Well, I’ll tell you what it sounds like to me. It’s like you’re one of these con-artist dudes who goes around preying on the feeble. You know, those guys who promise to put a new roof on some 102-year-old blind lady’s house, and then they skip off with the money. Same thing with you. You filch a little sugar off this girl and next thing you know, you’ll be in the breeze. That’s not good, dude.”
I tell him that’s not how this was. I explain the whole purity deal and how she looked like a saint at prayer, and he’s like, “Sure, sure. That’s just what you want to believe she looked like. You’re just pretending so you can believe it was all pure and innocent.”
“So what? Who doesn’t need a little purity in their lives? I mean, that’s what I’m saying. It was a soul thing.”
“That’s right,” he says. “Reverend Sutter Keely, the man who can save everybody’s soul but his own.”
“Whatever, dude.” I’m starting to wonder if the reason he can’t understand is because he still hasn’t done the deed with Bethany. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s probably still in the hand-holding-on-the-couch stage. Which is pretty lame if you ask me. Look, if you have to go to church with a girl Sunday morning, you sure better be going to bed with her Saturday night.
What really surprises me, though, is Cassidy’s take on the whole thing. There we are, having our Thursday drinks on a spectacular afternoon—Marcus and Aimee seem to be cool with us and our friendly get-togethers now, or at least that’s what they say—and I try out my purity theory on her. I was afraid she’d fillet me for taking advantage of Aimee, but it’s pretty much the opposite. Instead, she’s like, “You know, I admire you for going out with Aimee.”
“Admire? That’s an odd word for it.”
“No, what I mean is, at first I thought it was just some kind of strange rebound thing, but now I can see it. I had French with her last year. She’s shy and everything, but she’s deep. I guess I was just kind of surprised that you saw that in her, but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. I think you’re a good fit.”
“What do you mean, she’s deep but you didn’t think I’d see that. You didn’t think I could be deep?”
“No, you know that’s not it. I just thought maybe you wouldn’t see it in a girl that went around in a coat that looks like a big purple Christmas ornament.”
“Hey, that coat’s in the back of the closet now.”
“Well, you know what I mean. A girl who’s a little subtle in the looks department.”
Now, maybe she doesn’t mean anything negative with the “subtle” remark, but for some reason it makes me feel a kind of duty to Aimee, and the next thing I know I’m defending her alabaster-in-the-digital-clock-glow body.
Cassidy looks off across the backyard like all of a sudden the birdbath has become worth studying. “Well, good,” she says, though I get the idea she’s no more eager to hear about my sex life with Aimee than I am to hear about hers with Marcus. “The thing is, I’m glad you two are together. She’ll be good for you.”
What’s the deal with people thinking I need some kind of good influence in my life?
“Who knows?” She shoots me her sly smile. “Maybe you’ll amount to something after all.”
“Hey.” I slip her a wink. “I’m already something. I’m an absolutely miraculous marvel.”