Chronicle 9
“The Big Man On Campus: Smoke and Mirrors”
Tommy had discovered something important about ballet.
It was very long.
He shifted in his seat.
Onstage, people danced.
They had been dancing for quite some time.
Tommy understood that Cheryl liked this.
He understood that Cheryl was very good at it.
He understood that there was probably a story happening.
He did not understand why nobody would just say what was
happening.
Tommy shifted again.
The woman beside him glanced over.
He stopped.
A few minutes passed.
Tommy looked around the theatre.
That was when he noticed her.
Several rows away sat a girl dressed almost entirely in
black.
Black dress.
Black stockings.
Dark makeup.
Dark hair.
She looked like she was attending a funeral.
More importantly, she looked bored.
The girl glanced toward Tommy.
Tommy glanced toward her.
She raised her eyebrows slightly.
Tommy looked toward the stage.
Then back at her.
She was still looking at him.
Tommy gave the smallest shrug he could manage.
The girl smiled.
They both looked back toward the stage.
A few minutes later Tommy glanced over again.
So did she.
Tommy covered a yawn.
The girl silently laughed.
Tommy smiled.
At least somebody understood.
During the break, Tommy escaped into the lobby.
He stretched his arms over his head.
His back cracked.
"By Jove."
"That bad?"
Tommy turned.
It was the girl in black.
Up close, she looked even more like she was attending a
funeral.
She didn't have Joey's energy.
Joey wore strange clothes because Joey seemed to enjoy
making the entire world deal with Joey.
This girl seemed considerably quieter about it.
"Hi," Tommy said.
"Hi."
They looked at each other.
"I'm Tommy."
"Shiloh."
"Shiloh."
She nodded.
Tommy looked back toward the theatre doors.
"You enjoying it?"
"No."
Tommy laughed.
Shiloh didn't.
"My brother's in it."
"Oh."
"He has a minor role."
"So you have to be here."
"Basically."
Tommy nodded.
That made perfect sense.
Shiloh looked at him.
"What about you?"
Tommy hesitated.
"My sister's in it."
Shiloh nodded.
"Who does she play?"
Tommy's mind went blank.
Cheryl had explained this.
There was a swan.
There was another swan.
One of them was evil.
Cheryl was the evil one.
"Oedipus."
Shiloh stared at him.
Tommy smiled.
Shiloh's mouth twitched.
"Oedipus."
"Yeah."
"In Swan Lake."
"Yeah."
Shiloh finally laughed.
"I don't think that's right."
Tommy shrugged.
"I haven't found it interesting enough to care."
Shiloh laughed again.
This time Tommy did too.
"I'm getting something to drink," she said.
"Want one?"
"Sure."
They walked toward the concession stand.
Tommy reached for his pocket.
"I've got it," Shiloh said.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
Tommy accepted this.
They got their drinks and moved away from the counter.
For a moment neither said anything.
Then Shiloh noticed Tommy's jacket.
"You play football?"
Tommy looked down.
"Yeah."
"What position?"
"Quarterback."
Shiloh's interest immediately changed.
Not the way the girl at Terry's party had suddenly become
interested when she learned he played football.
Shiloh looked like somebody had finally mentioned something
worth discussing.
"Who's your team?"
"Raiders."
Shiloh's expression hardened.
Tommy noticed.
"What?"
"Steelers."
Tommy groaned.
Shiloh smiled.
"Of course."
"What's wrong with the Steelers?"
"Everything."
"Four Super Bowls."
"That doesn't make the Immaculate Reception
legal."
"It was legal."
"It hit Fuqua."
"It hit Tatum."
"You don't know that."
"Neither do you."
"I know enough."
Shiloh smiled.
"Twenty-four to seven."
Tommy stared at her.
"What?"
"Super Bowl XIV."
"I know what the score was."
"Just checking."
"That was last season."
"Defending champions."
"Who might not even make the playoffs."
Shiloh's smile disappeared.
"Take that back."
"No."
"They'll make it."
"Maybe."
"They will."
"Maybe."
Shiloh narrowed her eyes.
Tommy smiled.
He was enjoying himself now.
"So what are you going to do when they move?"
Tommy frowned.
"Who?"
"The Raiders."
"Oh."
"Los Angeles."
"Maybe."
"They're trying."
"I don't care."
Shiloh looked surprised.
"You don't care if your team leaves Oakland?"
"I live in Provo."
Shiloh considered that.
"They'll still be the Raiders."
"…but they'll be the Los Angeles Raiders."
"Still the Raiders."
"That's not the same."
"It is to me."
Shiloh shook her head.
"Terrible fan."
"Defending champions might miss the playoffs."
"Stop saying that."
Tommy grinned.
Shiloh looked toward the theatre doors.
Then back at him.
"Do you want to get dinner after?"
Tommy's smile faded slightly.
He'd almost forgotten.
Cheryl.
Davie's.
Their date.
"Oh."
Shiloh waited.
"I can't."
"You can't?"
"I already have plans."
Shiloh studied him.
Tommy didn't elaborate.
"Okay."
She didn't seem particularly bothered.
Instead she found a pen.
"Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Your hand."
Tommy held it out.
Shiloh wrote a phone number across his palm.
Tommy looked at it.
"What's this?"
"My number."
"I figured."
"Call me."
Tommy looked at her.
"Okay."
Shiloh capped the pen.
"Maybe we can argue about football somewhere that
doesn't have ballet."
Tommy smiled.
"Raiders are better."
"Call me."
She hugged him.
Tommy hugged her back.
That still seemed perfectly normal.
Then Shiloh pulled away and kissed him on the cheek.
Tommy blinked.
Shiloh smiled.
"See you."
She walked back toward her section.
Tommy stood there for a moment.
Then he looked down at the phone number written on his hand.
He smiled.
This was fine.
He had a girlfriend.
He had plans with his girlfriend.
He had turned down dinner with another girl.
That was exactly what a good boyfriend was supposed to do.
Tommy returned to his seat.
He made sure not to wipe his hand.
The second intermission took forever to arrive.
Tommy had begun to suspect Swan Lake might simply
continue for the rest of his life.
Eventually the lights came up.
Tommy immediately stood.
He had something important to do.
At the concession stand, he found a napkin and carefully
copied Shiloh's phone number from his palm.
He checked it.
Then checked it again.
He looked at his hand.
Then the napkin.
Same number.
Good.
Tommy folded the napkin several times.
Now he needed somewhere safe to put it.
His pants pocket seemed dangerous.
His wallet went in one coat pocket.
He opened the other.
Zipper.
Perfect.
Tommy put the napkin inside and zipped it shut.
There.
It couldn't fall out.
Especially when he met Cheryl.
Tommy paused.
That thought probably deserved further examination.
The lights flickered.
Tommy went back inside instead.
Eventually Swan Lake ended.
Tommy wasn't entirely sure how.
He understood that something tragic had happened.
He also understood that everybody else was standing.
So Tommy stood too.
He applauded enthusiastically.
Cheryl had worked hard.
Everybody had worked hard.
They deserved it.
Tommy even cheered.
As the performers bowed, Tommy searched for Cheryl among
them.
He found her.
He smiled.
Then, almost automatically, his eyes wandered toward
Shiloh's section.
Shiloh was already looking at him.
She raised one hand beside her face.
Thumb near her ear.
Little finger near her mouth.
Call me.
Tommy smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
Shiloh smiled back.
Then everyone began moving.
Cheryl had given Tommy very specific instructions.
Her parents couldn't see him.
Not yet.
So rather than joining the crowd gathering around the
performers, Tommy went to a quieter part of the building Cheryl had shown him
earlier.
Then he waited.
…and waited.
…and waited.
Tommy leaned against the wall.
He checked his watch.
He sat down.
He stood again.
He checked his watch.
He looked down the corridor.
Nothing.
Tommy began to wonder whether he'd misunderstood.
Maybe Cheryl had meant somewhere else.
Maybe she'd left with her parents.
Maybe she'd forgotten him.
That thought bothered him more than he expected.
He checked his watch again.
Footsteps.
Tommy looked up.
Cheryl appeared around the corner.
Her face immediately lit up.
"Tommy!"
She ran.
Tommy barely had time to straighten before Cheryl reached
him and jumped into his arms.
He caught her.
Cheryl wrapped herself tightly around him.
Tommy laughed.
Then she kissed him.
Tommy kissed her back.
Whatever complaints he'd been preparing disappeared.
They held each other tightly.
When they finally separated enough to breathe, Cheryl kept
her arms around him.
"You waited."
"You told me to."
"I know."
"I thought you forgot about me."
Cheryl stared at him.
"I would never forget about you."
Tommy smiled.
Cheryl kissed him again.
"I couldn't get away."
"It's okay."
"My parents kept talking to people. Then everybody
wanted pictures. Then somebody wanted to talk about the performance. Then my
mother wanted another picture."
Tommy laughed.
"It was unbearable."
Tommy stopped.
"Unbearable?"
"Waiting this long to see you."
"Oh."
Cheryl hugged him tighter.
"I kept thinking about you."
Tommy smiled.
He liked hearing that.
...mostly.
Something about unbearable bothered him.
They had only been apart for the length of the ballet.
Actually, considering how long the ballet had seemed, maybe
Cheryl had a point.
Still.
Tommy wasn't sure.
He decided not to think about it.
Cheryl kissed him again.
That was considerably easier to think about.
Their chemistry was still impeccable.
At least Tommy was pretty sure it was.
Eventually Cheryl rested her forehead against his.
"Did you like it?"
Tommy hesitated.
He had learned from his father that sometimes there was a
correct answer.
"You were really good."
Cheryl smiled.
Tommy had successfully avoided the question.
"Thank you."
She kissed his cheek.
"Are you hungry?"
Tommy immediately remembered something else.
"Davie's."
Cheryl laughed.
"You remembered."
"I've been thinking about the Monster Shake for
hours."
Cheryl stared at him.
"...and you."
"Tommy!"
"Mostly you."
Cheryl hit his arm.
Tommy laughed.
She took his hand.
"Come on."
They started down the corridor together.
Tommy squeezed Cheryl's hand.
Cheryl squeezed back.
Inside his coat pocket, safely behind a zipper, Shiloh's
phone number went with them.
The hostess smiled brightly when Tommy and Cheryl walked in.
"Hi!"
"Hi," Tommy said.
The hostess was wearing a shirt cut considerably lower than
anything Tommy's mother would have approved of.
Tommy noticed.
The hostess seemed to notice Tommy noticing.
She smiled a little more brightly.
"Two?"
"Yeah."
"Right this way."
Tommy followed.
The hostess looked back at him once.
Tommy smiled.
She smiled back.
Cheryl saw all of it.
She didn't say anything.
There wasn't much point.
Tommy was fourteen.
Tommy was a boy.
Tommy was a fourteen-year-old boy whose body seemed to be
operating under its own management.
Sometimes there were things you couldn't fight.
The hostess brought them to a booth.
"Here you go."
"Thanks," Tommy said.
"You're welcome."
Another smile.
Then she walked away.
Tommy watched for perhaps half a second longer than
necessary.
Cheryl slid into the booth.
Tommy went toward the opposite side.
They looked at each other.
Tommy stopped.
Cheryl moved farther into her side.
Tommy sat beside her instead.
That was better.
Cheryl immediately pressed against him.
Tommy put an arm around her.
That was considerably better.
He looked at the table.
Then at Cheryl.
"How are we supposed to eat like this?"
"I'll steal your fries."
"I'm stealing yours."
"Okay."
"Then why would I order fries?"
"So I can steal them."
Tommy considered this.
"That doesn't seem fair."
Cheryl kissed him.
Tommy reconsidered.
"Okay."
They looked at their menus.
Or tried to.
Cheryl rested her head against Tommy's shoulder.
Tommy kissed the top of her head.
She looked up.
He kissed her properly.
They giggled.
A minute later they remembered the menus.
Then forgot them again.
Eventually Tommy found the Monster Shake.
"There."
Cheryl looked.
"You can't drink that."
"Yes, I can."
"That's enormous."
"I know."
"You're going to die."
"Then you can have my fries."
Cheryl laughed.
"Deal."
A shadow appeared beside the table.
"Hi. Welcome to Davie's. What can I-"
Tommy looked up.
Joey stopped.
Tommy stopped.
Cheryl smiled.
"Hi."
Joey looked at Cheryl.
Then Tommy.
Then Cheryl again.
"Hi."
There was a pause.
Joey recovered remarkably quickly.
"What can I get you to drink?"
Tommy looked at the menu.
"Coke."
"Okay."
Cheryl ordered hers.
Joey wrote it down.
"…and are you ready to order?"
Tommy ordered his burger.
Cheryl ordered hers.
There was a brief disagreement over whether they needed
separate fries.
They ultimately ordered separate fries so they could steal
from each other.
Joey wrote everything down without comment.
"…and the Monster Shake," Tommy said.
Joey looked at him.
"The whole thing?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
She wrote it down.
"Anything else?"
Tommy shook his head.
Cheryl smiled.
"No, thank you."
"I'll get those started."
Joey walked away.
Cheryl watched her go.
"Who's that?"
"Joey."
"I figured."
Tommy looked at her.
"You figured?"
"She has a name tag."
"Oh."
Cheryl laughed.
Tommy glanced toward Joey.
"She's my best friend."
Cheryl's smile faded slightly.
"Oh."
"Well...one of them."
"She didn't look very happy to see you."
"She's not."
"Why?"
Tommy sighed.
"Chloe."
Cheryl leaned back enough to look at him.
"I thought you had that handled."
"I do."
"Then why is Joey mad?"
"Because she's Chloe's best friend too."
"So?"
"I don't know. Joey won't talk to me."
Cheryl frowned.
Tommy picked at the corner of his menu.
"I want to make nice with her."
"With Joey?"
"Yeah."
Cheryl watched him.
"…and Chloe too, eventually. I mean, Chloe's still my
best friend."
Cheryl's expression changed.
"Tommy."
"What?"
"You don't need to make nice with Chloe."
"I don't?"
"No."
Tommy wasn't sure what answer he'd expected.
"She needs to make nice with you."
Tommy looked at her.
"She's the one who did all that stuff."
"Yeah."
"She tried to tell you who you could talk to."
"Yeah."
"Who you could hug."
"Yeah."
"Then she shoved your friend into a wall."
Tommy nodded.
Cheryl leaned closer.
"You moved on."
Tommy smiled slightly.
"Yeah."
"So why are you worrying about what Chloe thinks?"
Tommy didn't answer.
Cheryl did.
"You shouldn't."
Tommy looked toward the counter.
Joey was there.
She wasn't looking at them.
At least not anymore.
"You didn't throw away the friendship," Cheryl
said. "Chloe did."
Tommy looked back at her.
That sounded right.
More importantly, it felt good.
"Yeah."
"If she wants to fix it, that's her job."
Tommy nodded.
"Yeah."
Cheryl smiled.
"Exactly."
She kissed him.
Tommy kissed her back.
His arm tightened around her.
Across the restaurant, Joey picked up two glasses.
She looked toward the booth.
Tommy and the girl were pressed together.
The girl said something.
Tommy laughed.
Then they kissed again.
Joey stared for a moment.
She knew what Chloe had done.
She knew Chloe had been wrong.
She also knew what Tommy had done.
…and, judging by the way the girl was looking at him, Joey
was reasonably certain she didn't.
Inside the kitchen, Joey put the order ticket down harder
than necessary.
She had spent the walk from the booth imagining several
possibilities.
Most involved Tommy suffering.
Nothing permanent.
Probably.
There was also a speech.
It was an excellent speech.
Joey had already constructed most of it in her head. It
explained, in considerable detail, exactly why Tommy Rydell was a terrible
person, a terrible boyfriend and, at the moment, a fairly terrible best friend.
She imagined delivering it in front of his new girlfriend.
Possibly the entire restaurant.
Tommy would have no response.
Everyone would applaud.
Chloe would somehow hear about it later.
Joey would become a hero.
She decided against it.
"Dung?"
The cook looked over.
"What?"
Dũng was Vietnamese. He had arrived in Cascadia only
recently and was still learning English.
His name had created problems almost immediately.
"It's Dũng," he'd explained repeatedly. "Mean
brave."
This explanation rarely helped.
Joey pointed toward the order.
"Can you spit in that burger?"
Dũng laughed.
Joey didn't.
Dũng stopped laughing.
"You serious?"
"Yes."
Dũng stared at her.
"No."
"Come on."
"No."
"Please?"
Dũng picked up the ticket.
"Why?"
"It's for Tommy."
Dũng looked at the ticket.
Then Joey.
"Who Tommy?"
Joey sighed.
"Tommy Rydell."
Dũng continued looking at her.
"Football player."
Nothing.
"Quarterback."
Nothing.
"He broke my best friend's heart."
Dũng nodded slowly.
This, at least, required no knowledge of football.
"What he do?"
Joey folded her arms.
"He was flirting with another girl."
Dũng frowned.
"He stared at her all the time. Let her touch him.
Hugged her. Then he kissed her."
Dũng's eyebrows rose.
"A lot."
That wasn't exactly how Kayla had described it.
"He kissed her?"
"Yes."
"He have girlfriend?"
"Chloe."
"…and kiss other girl?"
"Yes."
Joey decided the timing wasn't especially important.
"He start kiss?"
"Yes."
That part was true.
"…and now he's sitting out there with another
girl."
Dũng looked toward the kitchen door.
"Another girl?"
"Another one."
Dũng shook his head.
"Tommy is bad man."
"Exactly."
Dũng looked down at the burger.
Joey waited hopefully.
"No spit."
Her face fell.
"Dũng."
"No."
"Why not?"
Dũng pointed upward.
Joey followed his finger.
A camera stared down at them.
"Oh."
"Health Ministry."
Joey glared at the camera.
The Ministry of Health had mandated it after Davie's had
gotten into trouble over a health-code violation.
Dũng shook his head.
"Lawman won't like it."
Joey looked back at the burger.
Then the camera.
Then Dũng.
"Would they really check?"
Dũng stared at her.
Joey sighed.
"Fine."
Dũng nodded approvingly.
"I like job."
Joey picked up the ticket.
"I like my job too."
"Good."
She started toward the door.
Dũng called after her.
"Joey."
She turned.
"Tommy still bad man."
Joey smiled.
"Thank you."
That helped a little.
Tommy and Cheryl left Davie's feeling extremely satisfied.
Tommy had defeated the Monster Shake.
Mostly.
Cheryl had helped.
She had also stolen approximately half of his fries despite
having an entire order of her own.
Tommy considered this an outrageous betrayal.
Cheryl kissed him outside the restaurant.
He decided to forgive her.
The walk to Cheryl's house was supposed to take a little
over half an hour.
It took more than three.
This was mostly Cheryl's fault.
They had barely gone two blocks before Cheryl noticed a
narrow space between two buildings.
“Come here.”
“Why?”
Cheryl pulled him after her.
“Oh.”
They kissed.
For quite some time. Fooled around.
Then they started walking again.
They made it another few blocks before Cheryl spotted a
darkened doorway.
Then there was a little pathway behind a closed shop.
Then a quiet corner beside a church.
Then some trees.
Tommy was beginning to suspect Cheryl could locate privacy
anywhere.
At first, he thought this was fantastic.
Cheryl knew what she wanted.
That was different.
Chloe had always been tentative. Tommy had spent a lot of
time wondering what Chloe wanted, whether she wanted him to kiss her, whether
she wanted him to hold her, whether she wanted him to stop.
Cheryl removed most of the mystery.
She wanted Tommy close.
She wanted his arms around her.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him physically.
…and when they stopped kissing, she generally wanted to
start again.
Tommy liked that.
He liked being wanted.
He liked Cheryl touching him. He liked holding her. He liked
the way she looked at him before she pulled him closer.
...and Cheryl was insanely attractive.
That helped.
They eventually started walking again.
Then Cheryl stopped.
Tommy looked around.
“What?”
Cheryl pointed.
There was a large tree.
Tommy stared at it.
“It's a tree.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Cheryl smiled.
“Oh.”
They disappeared behind the tree.
Again.
It took Tommy considerably longer to notice the problem.
Eventually, there came a point where Tommy was satisfied.
He didn't know how else to describe it.
He still thought Cheryl was beautiful.
He still loved holding her.
He still loved kissing her. He still loved being physical
with her.
He just didn't particularly need to do any more of it right
now.
Cheryl apparently did.
They walked another block.
Cheryl squeezed his hand.
Tommy squeezed back.
She leaned against him.
He put his arm around her.
Then she spotted another quiet place.
Tommy looked at it.
Then at Cheryl.
Cheryl smiled.
Tommy smiled back.
Other guys would kill for this.
That seemed important to remember.
So Tommy followed her.
He didn't tell Cheryl that he was getting tired.
He certainly didn't tell her that he would have been
perfectly happy just walking the rest of the way home.
What kind of fourteen-year-old boy complained that his
beautiful girlfriend wanted too much affection?
There were probably boys at Crestview who would have Tommy
committed.
So he said nothing.
Cheryl didn't notice.
She wasn't trying to exhaust him.
As far as Cheryl knew, boys always wanted this.
She'd heard that from girls.
She'd heard it from adults warning girls about boys.
She'd heard variations of it at Christ the Savior.
Boys wanted physical affection.
Girls were supposed to be careful about giving them too
much.
Nobody had ever explained what happened when the girl wanted
more.
Cheryl was beginning to discover that she did.
It wasn't only kissing.
She liked Tommy's hand in hers.
She liked his arms around her.
She liked leaning against him.
She liked putting her head against his chest and having him
hold her there.
She liked touching someone she loved and knowing that person
wanted to touch her too.
At home, affection had rules.
At school, affection had even more rules.
There always seemed to be some reason not to touch somebody
too much.
Not here.
Not tonight.
She had Tommy.
She wanted to make the most of it.
Neither of them understood yet that Cheryl simply wanted
considerably more physical closeness than Tommy did.
Tommy only knew that they had left Davie's a very long time
ago.
He checked his watch.
“By Jove.”
“What?”
“Do you know what time it is?”
Cheryl looked.
Her eyes widened.
“How did that happen?”
Tommy stared at her.
Cheryl stared back.
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe I know how that happened.”
They laughed.
This time they actually walked.
Mostly.
Eventually Cheryl's house appeared.
Tommy had never been so happy to see it.
He immediately felt guilty for being happy to see it.
Other guys would kill for this.
Cheryl turned toward him at the door.
“I had a really good time.”
“So did I.”
She hugged him.
Tommy hugged her back.
They kissed.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
Another kiss.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Another.
Tommy smiled.
“Cheryl.”
“What?”
“We've said good night three times.”
“I know.”
Another kiss.
“Four.”
“I really like saying good night.”
“I noticed.”
She hugged him again.
Tommy rested his chin against her hair.
Despite everything, he smiled.
He really did love this girl.
He was also exhausted.
Finally Cheryl stepped inside.
“Good night, Tommy.”
“Good night, Cheryl.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She closed the door.
Tommy exhaled.
He turned toward the street.
The door opened.
“Tommy.”
He turned around.
Cheryl hurried out, wrapped her arms around him and kissed
him one more time.
Then she smiled.
“Okay. Now good night.”
Tommy stared at her.
“Are you sure?”
Cheryl considered it.
Tommy immediately regretted asking.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She disappeared inside.
The door closed again.
Tommy waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Twenty.
The door remained closed.
Tommy nodded.
Apparently they were finished.
She came back out and kissed him again before going back
inside. Then ten minutes passed without activity.
Now Tommy realized they were finished.
He started walking home.
Other guys would kill for this.
Tommy repeated that several times.
By Monday, Tommy Rydell was the king of the world.
At least, according to Tommy Rydell.
His date with Cheryl had apparently been extraordinary.
That was the word he used.
Repeatedly.
“So then we left Davie's,” Tommy said, surrounded by several
boys before first period, “and we didn't get back to her house for, like, three
hours.”
There were impressed noises.
Tommy smiled.
He neglected to mention that a considerable portion of those
three hours had involved him wondering whether Cheryl would ever let him finish
walking home.
“So what were you doing?”
Tommy gave him a look.
The boy's eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Tommy hadn't actually answered the question.
He discovered he didn't need to.
By second period, Tommy had become considerably more
experienced than he had been when he woke up that morning.
By lunch, he was practically an authority.
The girl at the ballet had become another particularly
useful part of the story.
There really had been a girl.
Her name really was Shiloh.
She really had flirted with him.
She really had given him her phone number.
Those facts apparently weren't impressive enough.
“One girl?” Terry asked.
Tommy shrugged.
“One of them.”
“One of them?”
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
Tommy hadn't prepared for that.
He thought about it.
“Ten.”
Terry stared at him.
“You got ten phone numbers this weekend?”
“Something like that.”
Tommy had gotten one.
…but ten sounded better.
By lunchtime, he had told the story enough times that ten
almost felt true.
Tommy bragged about Cheryl.
He bragged about Shiloh.
He bragged about girls at Terry's party.
He bragged about girls he hadn't even spoken to.
Tommy bragged so much that he told grand tales of where he,
Cheryl and somehow several other girls he supposedly met that weekend fooled
around- behind the discount store, in the hotel lobby, inside an elevator,
behind some bushes, high up a tree.
…and, somehow, underneath a diplodocus. Nobody seemed to ask
how a diplodocus made its way to Provo. They just believed it.
Being single, Tommy explained, had liberated him.
He was a free man now.
Nobody could tell him which girls he was allowed to talk to.
Nobody could tell him where he was allowed to look.
Nobody could tell him who he was allowed to hug.
Tommy had escaped.
There was one small problem with this explanation.
Tommy had a girlfriend.
This did not seem especially important to him.
Cheryl wasn't like Chloe.
Cheryl trusted him.
Therefore, Tommy was free.
It made perfect sense.
To Tommy.
He didn't think about how Cheryl might feel hearing him turn
their date into a story for other boys.
He didn't think about how Shiloh might feel about becoming
one of ten imaginary girls.
He certainly didn't think about all the other girls who had
become supporting characters in the continuing story of Tommy Rydell's
extraordinary success with women.
He wasn't trying to humiliate anybody.
He wasn't even really thinking about them.
That was the problem.
He was thinking about the boys.
…and the boys were impressed.
That was enough.
Joey Robertson no longer ate lunch with Tommy.
This was becoming one of the better decisions of her life.
“He's an idiot.”
Chloe stared down at her lunch.
“I know.”
“No. I mean he's an idiot.”
“I know.”
“He's telling everybody he got ten phone numbers this
weekend.”
Chloe looked up.
“Ten?”
“Ten.”
Keisha shook her head.
“He didn't get ten phone numbers.”
“I know he didn't get ten phone numbers,” Chloe said.
Polly leaned across the table.
“He apparently had an extraordinary date.”
Chloe's face tightened.
Joey immediately wished Polly hadn't said that.
Polly noticed too.
“Sorry.”
“It's okay.”
It wasn't.
Joey reached across the table and squeezed Chloe's hand.
“You're better off without him.”
Chloe said nothing.
Keisha nodded.
“You are.”
Nothing.
Polly moved a little closer.
“He's acting like a jerk.”
“I know.”
“You deserve somebody who doesn't act like this.”
“I know.”
Joey frowned.
Chloe knew an awful lot of things that weren't helping.
“Then why do you still want him?”
Chloe looked at her.
“I don't know.”
Keisha sighed.
“Chloe, he's got another girlfriend already. He's bragging
about girls. He's acting like everything you two had meant nothing.”
Chloe flinched.
Keisha immediately softened.
“I don't mean-”
“No.”
Chloe swallowed.
“I know.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Chloe poked at her lunch.
“You guys keep saying I broke up with my boyfriend.”
Joey frowned.
“Didn't you?”
“I don't even know.”
That remained a problem.
“He said if that's what having a girlfriend meant, he didn't
want it. Then he walked away.”
“That sounds pretty broken up,” Keisha said.
“Maybe.”
Chloe stared at the table.
“…but he's not just my boyfriend.”
Nobody answered.
“He's Tommy.”
That didn't explain anything.
It explained everything.
“I've known him since I was six.”
Joey's expression changed.
“We grew up together. I know his parents. He knows mine.
I've known Bowie his whole life. Tommy knows all my brothers and sisters. We
did everything together before we even knew what a boyfriend was.”
Her eyes were beginning to sting.
“So everybody keeps telling me I'll find another boy.”
Chloe wiped at one eye.
“I don't want another boy.”
Joey squeezed her hand again.
“I want Tommy.”
Keisha looked across the cafeteria.
Tommy was several tables away, surrounded by boys.
He was talking with his hands now.
Whatever story he was telling had apparently become
extremely exciting.
A couple of boys laughed.
Tommy grinned.
Keisha looked back at Chloe.
“He seems pretty capable of throwing all of that away.”
Chloe didn't answer.
“If eight years means that much to you, why doesn't it mean
that much to him?”
Joey gave Keisha a warning look.
Keisha didn't take it back.
Chloe looked toward Tommy.
He didn't look toward her.
That hurt more than she wanted it to.
“I don't know.”
“He kissed Kayla right after you fought,” Keisha said. “Now
he's got Cheryl. Now he's telling everybody about ten girls.”
“Keisha.”
“What?”
Joey shook her head.
Keisha sighed.
“I'm not trying to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I just don't understand why you're holding on so hard when
he isn't.”
Chloe looked down again.
Neither did she.
That was the worst part.
Tommy had apparently figured out how to remove Chloe Summers
from his life in approximately five minutes.
Chloe couldn't figure out how to remove Tommy Rydell after
eight years.
She had tried being angry.
She had tried telling herself he was a jerk.
She had tried remembering Kayla.
She had tried remembering Cheryl.
She had tried remembering that Tommy apparently now required
ten phone numbers every weekend.
None of it worked.
She still missed him.
Not just kissing him.
Not just holding his hand.
Not just being his girlfriend.
She missed sitting beside him.
She missed talking to him.
She missed laughing with him.
She missed knowing that if something happened, Tommy would
be the first person she told.
That was the part everybody seemed to be missing.
Chloe hadn't just lost her boyfriend.
She had lost her best friend.
Polly reached over and rested her hand on Chloe's arm.
“You don't have to stop caring about him.”
Chloe looked at her.
“…but you don't have to let him hurt you either.”
Chloe nodded.
That sounded sensible.
Everything everybody said sounded sensible.
Joey was sensible.
Keisha was sensible.
Polly was sensible.
Her mother had been sensible.
Chloe had been surrounded by sensible people for days.
Unfortunately, none of them had figured out how to make her
stop loving Tommy.
Across the cafeteria, another group of boys burst into
laughter.
Tommy looked delighted with himself.
Chloe watched him.
Then she looked away.
She wished she could be better off without him.
Maybe someday she would be.
Today wasn't that day.
Joey got Chloe a job at Davie's.
Chloe wasn't entirely certain whether this was a good thing.
She decided it was when she got her first paycheck.
She changed her mind when she saw herself in the mirror.
Chloe pulled at the front of her uniform.
Then the sides.
Then the bottom.
Nothing improved.
“Joey.”
Joey looked over.
“What?”
“Is this supposed to be this tight?”
“Yes.”
Chloe pulled at it again.
“I don't like it.”
“You picked that one.”
“I picked the least bad one.”
Joey looked down at her own uniform.
Joey had not picked the least bad one.
Chloe stared at her.
“How do you wear that?”
“You get used to it.”
“I don't think I want to get used to it.”
“You'll get used to that too.”
Chloe frowned.
Joey grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Come on. You have people to meet.”
That turned out to be almost everybody.
There were cooks.
Servers.
Hostesses.
A dishwasher who didn't seem to speak unless absolutely
necessary.
A manager who spoke almost constantly.
Chloe forgot approximately half their names within five
minutes.
“Hi. I'm Chloe.”
“I know.”
“Oh.”
The hostess smiled.
“Joey's been talking about you.”
Chloe looked at Joey.
Joey suddenly became very interested in something across the
restaurant.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing bad.”
“Joey.”
“Come on.”
Chloe followed.
Being new made her nervous.
Talking to strangers made her nervous.
Fortunately, most of the strangers seemed to like her.
Chloe had a habit of smiling at people as though she'd known
them considerably longer than she had. She touched shoulders when she laughed.
She remembered little things people told her. Within an hour she'd already
asked one waitress how her mother's cold was doing despite having learned about
the cold approximately twenty minutes earlier.
It wasn't deliberate.
That was simply Chloe.
Then she met one of the cooks.
His nametag said:
DUNG
Chloe stared at it.
“Hi, Dung.”
The cook closed his eyes.
Joey covered her mouth.
Chloe immediately knew she'd done something wrong.
“What?”
“Dũng,” he corrected.
Chloe tried again.
She still didn't quite get it.
Dũng corrected her again.
The third attempt was close enough.
“Oh.” Chloe looked at his nametag. “I'm sorry.”
“Nametag bad.”
Joey finally lost the battle and laughed.
Dũng pointed at her.
“You laugh first day too.”
“I did not.”
“You laugh.”
“I smiled.”
“You laugh.”
Joey shrugged.
“Okay. I laughed.”
Chloe looked mortified.
“What does it actually mean?”
Dũng smiled.
“Brave.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Dũng mean brave.”
Chloe smiled.
“I like that.”
Dũng returned to what he was preparing.
“Come Cascadia on raft.”
Chloe's smile disappeared.
“From Vietnam?”
“Yes.”
“On a raft?”
Dũng nodded.
“Small raft. Too many people. Very bad.”
Chloe stared at him.
“How long were you on it?”
Dũng thought about the question.
“Too long.”
Chloe couldn't argue with that.
He gave her a little smile and went back to work.
Chloe looked at his nametag again.
Then at him.
“Well...I think your parents picked the right name.”
Dũng stopped.
Chloe smiled.
“You really are brave.”
For a moment he didn't say anything.
Then his smile became considerably warmer.
“Thank you, Chloe.”
Joey put an arm around Chloe and steered her away.
“You've known him for thirty seconds.”
“He crossed an ocean on a raft.”
“I know.”
“He gets a compliment.”
“Come on. You have tables.”
Joey shadowed Chloe for most of her first shift.
This was necessary.
Chloe forgot a drink.
She brought the wrong fries to the wrong table.
She nearly gave a cheeseburger to a man who had specifically
ordered something without meat.
She wrote an order down so badly that even Chloe couldn't
read it.
“What does that say?” Joey asked.
“I don't know.”
“You wrote it.”
“I know.”
“Then how don't you know?”
“I don't know.”
Joey stared at her.
Chloe stared back.
“I'll go ask them again.”
“That would be good.”
Chloe hurried away.
She got better.
Slowly.
By the middle of the shift, she could carry several drinks
without staring at them in terror.
By later in the shift, she could remember which table had
ordered what.
Eventually she even stopped checking every thirty seconds to
make sure her uniform hadn't somehow become tighter.
When the dinner rush finally ended, Chloe found herself
without anything obvious to do.
She wiped down a table.
Then another.
Then one that probably didn't need wiping down.
She looked around for another one.
There was a boy sitting by himself in a booth.
He looked about her age.
He was cute.
Chloe noticed that immediately.
Then felt guilty for noticing it.
Then wondered why she felt guilty.
Then decided she didn't have time to solve that problem
right now.
His plate was nearly empty.
Chloe walked over.
“Everything okay?”
The boy looked up.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Chloe smiled.
He smiled back.
Chloe should probably have left.
She didn't.
“First day,” she said.
The boy looked at her uniform.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
Chloe laughed.
“Great.”
“You're doing fine.”
“You haven't seen most of it.”
“I saw you almost drop those drinks.”
“I didn't drop them.”
“That was impressive.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled again.
Chloe liked his smile.
“My name's Chloe.”
“Robert.”
“Hi, Robert.”
“Hi, Chloe.”
There was a brief silence.
Neither seemed particularly interested in ending the
conversation.
Chloe glanced at the empty seat opposite him.
“You're here by yourself?”
Robert's smile weakened.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Chloe immediately worried she'd asked something she
shouldn't have.
“Sorry. You don't have to-”
“No. It's okay.”
Robert looked down at his plate.
“I just didn't really want to go home yet.”
Chloe waited.
“My dog died today.”
“Oh.”
Robert rubbed his hands together.
“Benson.”
“His name was Benson?”
“Yeah.”
Chloe leaned against the edge of the booth.
“What happened?”
“He was old. Really old.”
Robert looked away.
“He couldn't really walk anymore. He wasn't eating much. The
vet said we could keep him going, but...”
He shrugged.
“It would've been for us. Not him.”
Chloe nodded.
“So we had him put down.”
“I'm sorry.”
“I knew it was the right thing.”
Robert's eyes were wet now.
“That doesn't make it feel right.”
“No.”
“I held him.”
Chloe didn't say anything.
Robert swallowed.
“I hugged him while they did it. I wanted him to know I was
there.”
He rubbed at his eyes.
“I could feel him getting weaker. Then he was just...gone.”
Chloe's heart broke for him.
Robert gave an embarrassed little laugh.
“Sorry.”
“Don't apologize.”
“I'm sitting in a burger place crying about my dog.”
“You loved him.”
“Yeah.”
Chloe hesitated.
“Do you want a hug?”
Robert looked at her.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded.
Robert got up and put his arms around Chloe. At the same
time, Chloe wrapped her arms around him and began rubbing his back.
It was supposed to be a quick hug.
It wasn't.
Chloe held him tighter when she felt him do the same.
There was something immediately comfortable about it.
Warm.
Safe.
Familiar, somehow.
Which made absolutely no sense.
She had known Robert for approximately three minutes.
Eventually they pulled apart.
Robert looked at her.
Chloe looked at him.
Neither moved very far.
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
Another silence.
This one felt different.
Robert nodded toward the seat across from him.
“You could sit down.”
“I'm working.”
“I'll defend you.”
Chloe laughed.
“Against my boss?”
“Absolutely.”
“You don't even know my boss.”
“I'll take him.”
Chloe looked toward the counter.
Joey was doing something with the register.
She looked toward Chloe.
Then toward Robert.
Then back toward Chloe.
Joey raised an eyebrow.
Chloe smiled innocently.
Joey's eyebrow went higher.
Chloe sat down.
“Five minutes.”
“Deal.”
Robert smiled as they took their seats.
Chloe rested her arms on the table.
“So...”
“So.”
She looked at him.
“Does this count as a date?”
Robert laughed.
“I don't know. I'm eating and you're sitting with me.”
“That sounds like a date.”
“You're being paid to be here.”
“That makes it sound considerably worse.”
Robert laughed harder.
Chloe did too.
For the first time that day, Robert looked genuinely happy.
Then he looked at her for a moment.
“It could be.”
Chloe's smile softened.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Robert hesitated.
“...but I'd rather take you on a real one.”
Chloe blinked.
“A real date?”
“Where you're not working.”
“That would help.”
“…and where I haven't just been crying into a hamburger.”
“I didn't see any tears actually hit the hamburger.”
“Good.”
“So your dignity is safe.”
“Thank Jove.”
Chloe smiled.
Robert took a breath.
“So?”
Chloe thought about Tommy.
Of course she did.
Tommy appeared in her head whether she invited him or not.
Eight years didn't disappear because a cute boy asked her to
dinner.
…but Tommy had Cheryl.
Tommy had ten phone numbers.
Apparently.
Tommy was a free man.
Chloe looked at Robert.
Robert wasn't Tommy.
Maybe that didn't have to be a bad thing.
“Okay.”
Robert brightened.
“Okay?”
“I'll go on a date with you.”
He smiled.
Chloe smiled back.
Across the restaurant, Joey was still watching.
Chloe glanced toward her.
Joey's eyebrow had finally come down.
Now she was smiling.
Chloe looked back at Robert.
She still missed Tommy.
That hadn't changed.
…but for the first time since losing him, Chloe had found
somebody she wanted to keep talking to.
That was something.
Thomas Rydell had two girlfriends.
He thought this was extremely cool.
It also required considerably more work than he had
anticipated.
Cheryl knew nothing about Shiloh.
Shiloh knew nothing about Cheryl.
Tommy intended to keep it that way.
So far, he was succeeding.
This seemed to confirm that Tommy was very good at this.
Shiloh was strange.
Tommy liked that about her.
The first time he'd seen her, dressed almost entirely in
black with dark makeup and an expression suggesting Swan Lake had
personally offended her, he'd assumed he'd figured her out.
He hadn't.
Shiloh did like strange things.
She liked horror movies.
She liked ghost stories.
She could spend an alarming amount of time talking about
death without becoming uncomfortable.
…but underneath all the black clothes and gloom, Shiloh was
basically a tomboy.
She loved sports.
Not just football.
Everything.
Tommy discovered this when he casually mentioned the Jazz.
That had been a mistake.
“You think Dantley shoots too much.”
“He does shoot too much.”
“He scores twenty-eight points a game.”
“That doesn't mean he doesn't shoot too much.”
“He shoots sixty percent!”
“So?”
Tommy stared at her.
“So?!”
They argued for fifteen minutes.
Tommy loved every second of it.
Football was even worse.
Shiloh knew players.
Coaches.
Trades.
Statistics.
She knew offensive formations.
She knew enough about defense to catch Tommy when he tried
bluffing his way through something he didn't know.
“You made that up.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely made that up.”
“Prove it.”
“I don't have to prove it. You're the one who made it up.”
Tommy grinned.
Shiloh grinned back.
Then Tommy tried to kiss her.
Shiloh moved her head.
Tommy kissed air.
She smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Did what?”
Tommy tried again.
Shiloh leaned away.
“Shiloh.”
“Yes?”
“I am trying to kiss you.”
“I noticed.”
“Then stop moving.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you haven't earned it.”
Tommy stared at her.
“How do I earn a kiss?”
Shiloh shrugged.
“You'll figure it out.”
This was infuriating.
It was also strangely fun.
Shiloh liked Tommy pursuing her.
She liked teasing him.
She liked watching him become increasingly determined to get
something she fully intended to give him eventually.
She wasn't opposed to affection.
Far from it.
She simply didn't want Tommy thinking she was easy.
Eventually Tommy said something that made her laugh.
Shiloh grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.
Tommy smiled triumphantly.
“I earned it.”
“Don't get cocky.”
“I earned it.”
“You can lose it.”
Tommy immediately stopped celebrating.
Shiloh laughed.
Cheryl was different.
Very different.
Cheryl did not make Tommy earn kisses.
Cheryl sometimes appeared to believe Tommy deserved them
merely for existing.
Tommy would arrive.
Cheryl would hug him.
Then she'd kiss him.
Then she'd kiss him again.
There was no challenge.
No pursuit.
No mystery.
Cheryl liked Tommy.
Tommy liked Cheryl.
Why complicate it?
Unfortunately, almost everything else was complicated.
“What did you think?” Cheryl asked.
Tommy looked at the television.
He had been trying very hard to pay attention.
“It's good.”
“You hated it.”
“I didn't hate it.”
“What happened?”
Tommy stared at the screen.
There had been a woman.
There had been a man.
Somebody's family disapproved of something.
There had been a great deal of staring through windows.
“I think they're in love.”
Cheryl laughed.
“You weren't watching.”
“I was watching.”
“What happened?”
Tommy thought.
“Love.”
Cheryl shoved him.
Tommy laughed.
Cheryl liked romance.
Tommy liked people getting punched.
Cheryl liked period dramas.
Tommy liked action movies.
Cheryl liked ballet.
Tommy had now seen enough ballet to last several lifetimes.
Tommy liked superhero comics.
Cheryl tried reading one.
She made it six pages.
“Why is everybody yelling?”
“They're fighting.”
“They've been fighting for six pages.”
“That's the good part.”
Cheryl stared at him.
Tommy stared back.
They kissed.
That generally solved the problem.
They did have The Brady Bunch.
They had The Love Boat.
Tommy considered these extremely important foundations for a
relationship.
Still, there were moments when he found himself sitting
beside Cheryl while she explained something about dancing and realized he had
absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
Cheryl sometimes looked equally lost when Tommy explained
why a prevent defense was an abomination.
Then she'd kiss him.
Tommy usually stopped caring.
Dating two girls required organization.
Tommy had not anticipated this.
He couldn't call Shiloh when Cheryl might call.
He couldn't take Cheryl somewhere Shiloh might be.
He couldn't tell either girl exactly what he'd done the
previous evening.
Most importantly, he had to remember which stories he'd told
to which girl.
This was becoming difficult.
“So what did you do Saturday?” Cheryl asked.
“Nothing.”
Tommy had spent Saturday with Shiloh.
“Nothing?”
“Watched football.”
That was technically true.
There had been football.
Shiloh had also been there.
Cheryl hadn't asked that.
Tommy smiled.
Perfect.
Later, Shiloh asked what he'd done Friday.
“Went to Davie's.”
With Cheryl.
Shiloh hadn't asked that either.
This was easy.
Tommy was extremely good at this.
The strangest part wasn't Cheryl.
It wasn't Shiloh.
It was Chloe.
Not Chloe herself.
Tommy barely spoke to Chloe anymore.
It was everything else.
Shiloh mentioned baseball.
Tommy thought of Chloe pitching.
He stopped himself.
Cheryl talked about visiting Vancouver.
Tommy thought about Chloe visiting Carl.
He stopped himself.
A girl walked past wearing something Chloe would have hated.
Tommy wondered what Chloe would say.
He stopped himself.
He heard a joke and immediately thought of telling Chloe.
He stopped himself.
Once, Shiloh started arguing that something was impossible.
Tommy almost said:
“Chloe says that too.”
He caught himself.
“What?”
Tommy blinked.
Shiloh looked at him.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.”
“You were going to say something.”
“I forgot.”
Shiloh narrowed her eyes.
Tommy kissed her.
That worked.
Another time Cheryl rested her head against his shoulder
while they watched The Love Boat.
Tommy looked at the television.
For years, watching The Love Boat had meant Chloe.
He felt something twist inside him.
Cheryl looked up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
Tommy kissed her forehead.
“I'm great.”
Cheryl smiled and settled against him again.
Tommy stared at the television.
He was great.
He had Cheryl.
He had Shiloh.
He had two girlfriends.
Other boys could barely get one.
Tommy Rydell was fourteen years old and somehow juggling two
beautiful girls without either discovering the other.
He was the king of the world.
So why did Chloe Summers keep showing up in his head?
Tommy didn't know.
He decided not to think about it.
He was becoming very good at that.
Robert had a camera.
Not a little camera.
Not the kind Chloe had seen people bring to birthday parties
and family picnics.
A camera.
It hung from his neck as they walked through the park.
Chloe kept looking at it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep looking at my camera.”
“It's big.”
Robert looked offended.
“It's not that big.”
“It looks heavy.”
“It is.”
“Then it's big.”
Robert lifted it proudly.
“Nikon F2.”
Chloe nodded as though that meant something.
Robert noticed.
“You have no idea what that means.”
“No.”
He laughed.
“My dad gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday.”
Chloe looked more closely.
“I've seen cameras where the picture comes out right away.”
Robert's expression changed immediately.
“What?”
“You know. It comes out and then you wait and-”
“Polaroid.”
“Yeah.”
“Those are toys.”
Chloe laughed.
“They're cameras.”
“They're toys.”
“They take pictures.”
“So does a little plastic camera you give a six-year-old.”
“Photography snob.”
“Yes.”
Robert seemed quite comfortable with this accusation.
They continued down the path.
It was cold enough that Chloe kept her hands tucked into her
coat whenever Robert wasn't holding one of them.
Then Robert stopped.
Chloe took another two steps before noticing.
“What?”
Robert was staring at her.
Chloe looked behind herself.
“What?”
“Stay there.”
“Why?”
“The light.”
Chloe looked upward.
“The sun?”
“Yes.”
“Robert, I've seen the sun before.”
“Don't move.”
He lifted the camera.
Chloe immediately became self-conscious.
“What do I do?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“Just stand there.”
“How?”
Robert lowered the camera.
“How do you normally stand?”
“I don't know. I've never thought about it before.”
“Then stop thinking about it.”
“That doesn't help.”
Robert smiled.
“Look over there.”
Chloe looked.
“No, not like you're being ordered to look over there.”
“You ordered me to look over there.”
Robert laughed.
Chloe did too.
The camera clicked.
Chloe looked back at him.
“You took one!”
“That was perfect.”
“I wasn't ready.”
“That's why it was perfect.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes.
Robert raised the camera again.
She stuck her tongue out.
Click.
“Robert!”
“Perfect.”
“You're wasting film.”
“I'm creating art.”
“You just took a picture of me sticking my tongue out.”
“Art.”
Chloe laughed.
She discovered that she liked this.
A lot.
Robert kept seeing pictures where Chloe saw nothing.
A tree.
A bench.
A patch of late-afternoon sunlight.
An old stone wall.
He'd suddenly stop and tell Chloe to stand somewhere.
At first she kept asking what she was supposed to do.
Eventually she stopped asking.
She leaned against the wall.
She sat sideways on the bench.
She tucked her hair behind her ear.
She smiled.
She didn't smile.
Once she tried what she imagined models did and gave Robert
a ridiculously serious expression.
Robert lowered the camera.
“What are you doing?”
“Modelling.”
“You look constipated.”
Chloe's expression collapsed.
Robert got the picture.
“You did that on purpose!”
“Absolutely.”
Chloe chased him halfway down the path.
Robert knew considerably more about photography than Chloe
had expected.
Which wasn't difficult.
Chloe knew approximately nothing.
He explained lenses.
Exposure.
Film speed.
Aperture.
Shutter speed.
Chloe understood some of it.
She pretended to understand slightly more.
Then Robert started talking about developing.
That interested her.
“You do it yourself?”
“Most of the time.”
“How?”
“In the darkroom.”
“Your house has a darkroom?”
“No. Crestview does.”
Chloe stopped.
“Crestview?”
Robert nodded.
“You don't go to Crestview.”
“No.”
“Then how do you get to use our darkroom?”
“My dad's friends with the photography teacher. He lets me
use it whenever it's free.”
Chloe frowned.
“You don't even go there and you get to use it whenever you
want?”
“Pretty much.”
“That's not fair.”
“Do you want to see your pictures or complain?”
Chloe thought about it.
“Both.”
Robert laughed. Chloe then moved the conversation along.
“You can make the pictures yourself?”
“Pictures, enlargements. Posters if I want.”
Chloe looked impressed.
“You can make me into a poster?”
“I could make you enormous.”
Chloe grinned.
“I want to be enormous.”
Robert laughed.
“Come on.”
Chloe had walked past the photography room before.
She had never particularly wondered what happened inside it.
Now she wondered why nobody had shown her sooner.
The darkroom was strange.
Robert moved around it comfortably while Chloe followed him
and tried very hard not to touch anything she wasn't supposed to touch.
There were trays.
Chemicals.
Equipment Chloe couldn't identify.
Robert explained everything.
Chloe forgot half of it immediately.
The part she didn't forget was watching an image appear.
She stared.
“By Jove.”
Robert smiled.
“What?”
“It's me.”
“Yes.”
“I know it's me.”
The picture slowly emerged.
Chloe leaned closer.
It was one from the park.
She wasn't posing.
She was laughing.
Robert had caught her with her head slightly turned, hair
falling across one side of her face.
Chloe stared at herself.
“That's really me?”
“No. I hired another Chloe.”
She elbowed him.
Robert laughed.
More photographs followed.
Chloe sitting on the bench.
Chloe leaning against the wall.
Chloe sticking her tongue out.
“You're not keeping that one.”
“I'm absolutely keeping that one.”
“No.”
“It's one of my best.”
“Robert.”
“Art.”
Chloe shook her head.
She couldn't stop smiling.
There was something magical about it.
Robert had looked at ordinary moments and decided they were
worth preserving.
Chloe looked at another photograph.
“Who did you take pictures of before me?”
Robert became quiet.
Chloe noticed immediately.
“Oh.”
He looked down.
“Benson.”
Chloe's smile disappeared.
Robert nodded toward some of his things.
“I took hundreds.”
“Hundreds?”
“Probably.”
He smiled faintly.
“He was a good subject.”
Chloe moved closer.
“I have pictures from when he was a puppy. Running around.
Sleeping. Sitting in snow.”
Robert swallowed.
“Near the end I took more.”
Chloe didn't say anything.
“I guess I knew.”
His voice became quieter.
“I wanted enough.”
Chloe wrapped her arms around him.
Robert hugged her back.
For a while, neither said anything.
“I'm glad you have them,” Chloe whispered.
“Me too.”
She squeezed him.
Then Chloe pulled back just enough to look at him.
“I can be your new subject.”
Robert smiled.
“You volunteering?”
“Yes.”
“You realize what you're agreeing to.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Chloe laughed.
“You can take as many pictures of me as you want.”
“As many?”
“Within reason.”
“That wasn't part of the original offer.”
“I'm adding it now.”
“Too late.”
Chloe rolled her eyes.
Robert smiled at her.
She smiled back.
Then Chloe became aware of something.
They were alone.
The photography room outside was empty.
The darkroom was quiet.
Nobody was watching them.
Robert was still holding her.
Chloe looked at him.
Robert looked at Chloe.
For once, Tommy didn't enter her head first.
Chloe leaned forward and kissed Robert.
Robert froze for a fraction of a second.
Then he kissed her back.
It wasn't a particularly long kiss.
It didn't need to be.
When Chloe pulled away, Robert was staring at her.
“What?”
Robert smiled.
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
He glanced toward his camera.
Chloe pointed at him.
“Don't you dare.”
Robert laughed.
Chloe hugged him again.
On the counter beside them, her face continued appearing on
another photograph.
For the first time in days, Chloe wasn't wondering whether
Tommy missed her.
She was thinking about Robert.
They kissed again…and it progressively got deeper.
Terry sat across from Tommy at lunch.
He waited.
Tommy ate a fry.
Terry kept waiting.
Tommy ate another fry.
Nothing.
Terry frowned.
“So?”
Tommy looked up.
“So what?”
“What happened?”
“What happened with what?”
“Girls.”
Tommy sighed.
Terry stared at him.
This was not the Thomas Rydell he had been promised.
For the past several days, lunch had become an ongoing
report on the extraordinary romantic adventures of Thomas Rydell.
Today Tommy was eating fries.
“You're not going to tell me anything?”
“Nothing happened.”
“You have two girlfriends.”
Tommy looked around quickly.
“Quiet.”
Terry lowered his voice.
“You have two girlfriends.”
“I know.”
“…and eight other girls.”
Tommy stared at him.
“What?”
“The ten phone numbers.”
“Oh.”
Tommy looked down at his lunch.
“I made that up.”
Terry blinked.
“What?”
“I got one.”
“One?”
“One.”
“You said ten.”
“I was trying to impress everybody.”
Terry stared at him.
Tommy shrugged.
“It worked.”
Terry couldn't argue with that.
“So you have Cheryl and...”
“Shiloh.”
“Shiloh. You have Cheryl and Shiloh. You're successfully
dating both of them without either one knowing about the other.”
“So far.”
“…and you're miserable.”
“I'm not miserable.”
“You look miserable.”
Tommy ate another fry.
Terry waited.
Tommy sighed.
“Chloe has a boyfriend.”
Terry stared at him.
Then he looked around as though another Tommy might be
sitting somewhere nearby.
“Chloe?”
“Yes.”
“Your Chloe?”
“She isn't my Chloe.”
“Okay.”
Tommy stabbed another fry into ketchup considerably harder
than necessary.
“I've heard it from like four people now.”
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“Nobody told me his name.”
Tommy leaned back.
“…but I think I know who they're talking about.”
“How?”
“Photography.”
Terry nodded as though this explained everything.
It didn't.
“…and apparently he comes here sometimes.”
“Here?”
“Crestview. He's friends with the photography teacher or his
dad is or something.”
Tommy shrugged.
“I've seen him.”
Terry became interested.
“You've seen Chloe's new boyfriend?”
“I think.”
“What does he look like?”
Tommy thought about it.
“I don't know. Like a guy.”
“Very helpful.”
“I've seen him a few times when I'm heading out late for
football practice. He carries a camera.”
“Is he ugly?”
Tommy frowned.
“No.”
“Too bad.”
“He seems nice enough.”
Terry stared at him again.
“What?”
“You want him to be nice?”
“I don't want him to be anything.”
“…but you just said-”
“I don't care.”
Terry nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“I don't.”
“Okay.”
“I'm over Chloe.”
“Okay.”
Tommy pointed at him.
“I am.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“I'm over Chloe.”
“You've mentioned that.”
Tommy folded his arms.
Terry took a bite of his lunch.
“So why do you care?”
Tommy opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Terry waited.
“I don't.”
“You look like somebody ran over your dog.”
“I don't care.”
“Then why are we talking about it?”
Tommy didn't know.
That was becoming irritating.
He had broken up with Chloe.
At least, he was pretty sure he had.
Then he'd kissed Kayla.
Then he'd met Cheryl.
Then he'd met Shiloh.
Cheryl was beautiful.
Shiloh was beautiful.
Cheryl adored him.
Shiloh could argue football with him until one of them died.
Tommy had successfully acquired two girlfriends at the same
time.
He was doing extraordinarily well.
Chloe getting a boyfriend shouldn't matter.
It did.
“I don't know,” Tommy finally said.
Terry leaned back.
That was considerably more honest than most things Tommy had
said lately.
“I broke up with her.”
“Yeah.”
“So she can date whoever she wants.”
“Yeah.”
“I don't care.”
Terry waited.
Tommy sighed.
“I care.”
“Yeah.”
“…but I shouldn't.”
“Probably not.”
Tommy looked across the cafeteria.
Chloe wasn't there.
That somehow made it worse.
“I thought she still wanted me.”
Terry didn't immediately answer.
Tommy looked down.
“She probably does.”
“Then why does she have a boyfriend?”
Terry shrugged.
“You have two girlfriends and you still care about Chloe.”
Tommy looked at him.
That was an extremely inconvenient point.
“That's different.”
“How?”
Tommy thought.
“I don't know.”
Terry smiled.
“Maybe you should get a third girlfriend.”
Tommy kicked him under the table.
“Ow.”
“Helpful.”
“I thought so.”
Tommy rubbed his forehead.
He didn't understand any of this.
He had wanted freedom.
He had freedom.
He had Cheryl.
He had Shiloh.
He could talk to girls.
He could look at girls.
He could hug girls.
Nobody was issuing rules.
This was exactly what he wanted.
So why did the idea of Chloe sitting somewhere with another
boy make his stomach hurt?
Terry stole one of Tommy's fries.
Tommy didn't even stop him.
That concerned Terry more than anything else.
Then Terry remembered something.
“In a few weeks, you're going to Evermore.”
Tommy looked up.
That got his attention.
Evermore.
The beach.
Terry smiled.
“Think about it.”
Tommy did.
“There are going to be far more pretty women there than
here.”
Tommy's mouth twitched.
“…and Chloe will be very far away.”
Tommy smiled.
There he was.
Terry pointed at him.
“See?”
Tommy laughed.
“Yeah.”
“Beaches.”
“Yeah.”
“Pretty girls.”
“Yeah.”
“No Chloe.”
Tommy's smile faltered for just a moment.
Then he forced it back.
“Exactly.”
Terry went back to his lunch.
Tommy did too.
Evermore.
Beaches.
Pretty girls.
Chloe very far away.
For the moment, that made Tommy feel better.
For the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment