The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

Two Things Off Your Chest

Previously: "The Girls That Guys Obsess Over" 

Eva is sitting near the library door, and she glances up to give you a faint smile as you enter. You hesitate, then barge over. "Hey Eva, is this your study hall?" you ask.

"Huh? Yes." Her expression is blank for a moment, then her brow furrows. "You on your way to class?"

It sounds like a polite invitation to push off, but you ignore it. "You got a few minutes?" You yank out a chair without waiting for a reply. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Though she tries to hide it, you can see her tense up. There's only one thing you can talk to her about, right? She's a cheerleader, you're a nobody, and the only thing you really have in common is—

"Lisa's all done with me, right?" you blurt out. "I mean, we're broken up."

"Ye-es." Eva breathes the word out. You're not trying to make it hard for her, but clearly she does not want to talk about your ex-girlfriend.

And dammit, Lisa was your girlfriend, even if she casually dumped your ass one ugly morning a month back by informing you that you and her hadn't actually been going out together!

"Listen, I want your honest opinion," you say. "You know her. You know me." Well, sort of. If Eva knows you, it's mostly because you hung out with Lisa over the summer, and Eva was often around too. "Was there ever anything between us? I don't mean, did I ever have a chance with her. I mean, was there ever, actually—?"

Your chest tightens and your voice dies in your throat. It's been some time since you thought about Lisa—life has been busy recently—and you're surprised and dismayed to find that her dumping you still hurts.

Eva squirms.

"Look, Will," she says.

"Be honest. Just tell me. I want to know so I can finally stop wondering what the hell that was with us."

Eva looks at you gravely. Then, after a deep sigh, she says, "No. There wasn't."

It's like a kick in the heart. I was walking around with a bag over my head the whole time, you think. Everyone was laughing at me when I was with Lisa because I looked so stupid. But I had a bag over my head so I never noticed.

"She liked you, Will," Eva says. "As a friend. But you kind of, um, read a little too much—"

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demand. "Why didn't someone tell me?"

Eva winces. "No one was sure what you really thought was going on! You weren't really, um—"

"I didn't mack on her hard enough, is what you mean." Even in your own ears, the words sound hard and cruel, and Eva's mouth falls open. But you barrel forward. "If I'd hit on her hard enough, you'd'a know what I was thinking and then you'd've told me I was—"

The door opens behind you, and you turn in time to see two girls comes in. They are all smiles as they come up to your table, but their expressions falter a little when they see your face, and Eva's. They look like they want to join you, but they hold back. The moment hangs.

"Can you give us a couple of minutes here?" Eva asks them. They look at her and they look at you and they look at each other, then they nod (a little uncertainly) and shuffle over to another table. They murmur quietly as they sit down, and once or twice they shoot veiled glances in your direction. You are suddenly, hideously, embarrassed.

"Look, Will," Eva says, "I don't know what you want me to say, but—"

"I told you what I wanted you to say," you gruffly retort, and grab for your backpack. "I asked you to be honest, and you were. It's my problem now, so don't worry about me." As if you were going to.

You're on the point of storming out when you remember what it was you really came in here for, what your talk about Lisa was just a preface and a pretext for. You suck in your lips and give Eva a long look.

"I'll do you a favor too, if you don't mind," you tell her. "Since you were honest with me, I'll be honest with you. Really. I'm not trying to be mean when I tell you this." A wary light comes into Eva's eye. "I heard you've been going out with Jeremy Richards. Going on dates with him and stuff. Is it true?"

Her expression hardens. "I don't think it's really any of your business," she says.

"No, I guess not. But Richards was a friend of mine. Used to be a friend, back in middle school. Like, a really good friend. But then he had a growth spurt and shot up like a ladder, and he decided he wanted to play basketball and be a jock and a jerk, like the rest of those guys. I mean, you know what those guys are like, right?" And into the phrase those guys you pour all your contempt for the arrogant, swaggering, bullying basketball team.

"So, that's who he wanted to be," you continue as Eva stares at you. "Who he wants to be. So he hangs out with Seth Javits and assholes like him. But trust me. He's just a loser, like me. Because he used to be just like me."

And all of a sudden, all the pain and resentment you didn't know you've been harboring for three fucking years tries to hammer its way out through your ribcage, like a chest-burster. The betrayal by Jeremy, the bullying by jock assholes, the girls who sniff and turn away from you, Lisa Yarborough and her casual rejection of everything that you thought you had with her— It all comes swirling up in a great maelstrom.

"So don't waste your time on him," you tell Eva. "You deserve a lot better than him. Fuck. You deserve the best."

Almost too late, you turn away before you can burst into tears, and hurry from the library. Jesus, you wonder as you fly through the halls. Why did I tell her that she deserves 'the best'?

Because of course she does. Eva is a sweet girl, the sweetest and kindest of the Garner siblings, from what you've seen of them up close and from inside.

But it still astonishes you that you'd blurt out something like that.

* * * * *

It turns out you're still not used to being friends with Laurent, because you don't even glance in his direction as you shuffle into English, and not until he's come over and punched you in the shoulder do you realize he was calling to you. "Where were you last period?" he asks.

"Uh—?"

"I was texting you. Isn't that your study hall?"

"No. I have— Well, I was skipping," you stammer. "But I was in the library, talking to Eva. Garner."

Laurent stares. Then a wicked grin splits his face. "Dawg!" He punches you in the shoulder again. "Well, you comin' over to Ratfucker's after school again?"

"I'm grounded," you remind him.

"Oh, right. That sucks. But you don't have to go home right after school, do you?"

"Uh, yeah, I kind of have to."

"But if you got stuck at school for a little while— Like, you had to stay late because you were helping a guy out with something?" His grin turns expectant.

"Okay, I guess that wouldn't be— But I really can't be too late getting home. My dad—"

"Yeah, well come find me at my truck." He mauls the side of your head with a meaty paw, and saunters back to his desk.

You do a double-take at Caleb, who is staring at you with open-mouthed astonishment from the desk next to yours. "Since when do you hang out with wrestlers?" he demands.

You flush. "Since when is it any of your business? Yeah, me and Laurent've been— That's how come I got grounded, you know. 'Cos we—"

"I didn't know you got grounded!"

"Well I did! Remember how I got you to cover for me last Saturday? It was 'cos I was hanging out with Laurent and Brownie and them. We went to the Warehouse," you lie.

Caleb sneers at you. "You didn't go to the Warehouse, Will."

"How do you know? Was you out there and didn't see me? I didn't see you there!"

"You would'a told me or Tilley if you went out there."

You puff out your chest and resettle your t-shirt. "Well, I'm telling you now. And I don't gotta tell you guys everything that me and Laurent and them get up to, same as I don't gotta tell them about what you and me get up to!"

Caleb turns away with a sour expression. Then he gives you a sidelong look. "So you gonna go eat lunch with 'em?"

That's the last straw. You take out your phone—which was turned off, you find—and text Laurent. A minute later he shouts your name, and nods at you.

"Have fun eating your spleen out with Tilley," you jeer at Caleb.

* * * * *

You leave the classroom with Laurent when the period is over, and he claps his hand on your shoulder and steers you outside.

"We'll talk out at the portables," he says. "Save us the trouble of talking after school."

"What about?"

"Come hang out with us this afternoon. Let the Ratfucker cover for you at home."

You're flattered until Laurent adds, "We wanna work on the next spell in the book, and we want you out there to make sure we don't fuck it up."

Then, when you only stare at him, he says, "Or let us use your gear. You know, your face and shit. That'd be the next best thing to having you along in person."

Next: "Memories from Another Me" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 4)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)"