Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (12 page)

“What do you mean, you don't think so?” Jake says, “She's got a good eye.”

“Maybe she does. But maybe I'd be happier without her.”

“I don't get it. What's your problem with Liz?”

“You're too young to understand.”

Jake closes his laptop forcefully. “Don't give me that crap. Ethan, you're not my dad, you're only a few years older than I am. Funny how I'm not too young to do a bunch of work on your extracurriculars but suddenly I'm too young? You know Liz is a friend of mine.”

“Okay, okay, you're right. I'm sorry.” Chastened, Ethan rubs his eyebrow, staring at the table, the floor, anywhere but at Jake.

“Look, it's, well . . .” he shakes his head. “Even though it's an extra-curricular I'm expected to work it. I can't afford to blow this T.A. gig, Jake, I need the cash. But it's just that Liz . . . whenever she's around it's like I can't open my mouth. I look at her and it's game over. I like her, okay. I really like her. But if she's on this crew I'm not gonna get diddly done. She . . . distracts me.”

“That is just too weird.” Jake asks, incredulous. “You don't want her on the team because you like her?”

Ethan nods sheepishly.

“Don't be a goof, it would be a great chance to get to know her better,” Jake says. “Why don't you ask her out?”

“I just can't, man.”

Ethan swivels in his chair.

“She's a nice girl. She doesn't even drink. More than that she's a star. What's her average, in the nineties? Probably almost as good as yours. And me? I'm faking it. What am I, some goofball drinks too much, smokes up and parties. I'm just barely making the grade. She's sure as shit too good for me, Jake.”

Amelia heads for the kitchen to grab a quick cup of Ramen soup to get through the afternoon. She plugs in the kettle and nips upstairs for the book she needs. They say
Kindles
might be free soon, maybe that'll make it easier to have the right books every time. Returning to the kitchen she's shocked to see a strange man pouring water out of her kettle — until she realizes it's Eric.

“Hope you left enough for me,” she says.

He nods to the soup bowl and she sees that he filled it before filling his mug.

“Thanks. You're better trained than most.” she smiles, and he nods. God he looks rough. “You coming to class today?”

Eric shrugs as he fishes out the tea bag, and starts ladling in sugar. “Probably not,” he mutters.

She leans back on the counter and looks at him. Unkempt. Stubble does not suit this guy. “Why not?”

“'Cause I really don't feel like it, that's why not.”

She cocks her head, “So what, you're gonna wallow in self pity for the rest of your life?”

He takes a sip of his tea. She can see it's too hot and he's burnt his tongue, but he sticks to the tough guy act and pretends it doesn't. “Maybe.”

“I'd think about it. You wanna kiss off the semester, fine, but if it was me I'd be down at the office dropping out formally so I'd get at least some of my money back.”

Eric nods, continuing to look miserable.

“'Course, it was me I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.”

He pins her with a glower, “But it wasn't you, was it.”

She glowers right back, “No it wasn't. But you don't have the market cornered on pain and suffering. This is the first time you've said two words to me and you wanna be a jerk? I may not be a goddess but I sure don't deserve any crap. You wanna dump on somebody, dump on her, not me.”

Amelia turns on her heel and stomps out of the kitchen, soup and notebook forgotten in the grip of overwhelming anger.

Eric's jaw drops, then he calls, “Wait.” But she doesn't hear him, she's too angry. Feeling like a jerk Eric goes after her, “Wait. I'm sorry.” She keeps on going for the door and is just getting it open when he catches up with her and stops the door with his hand.

“You're right. Look. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I haven't been thinking, and, and, you haven't even touched your soup.”

His contrition drains away her annoyance. “No. I haven't.”

“Look,” says Eric, “Why don't you eat your soup and I'll go get cleaned up so I can come to the lecture with you.”

She looks at him, appraisingly.

“I'm really not a jerk.”

Amelia raises an eyebrow.

“Not usually.” Eric makes a pitiful stab at a smile.

“Okay. Go get cleaned up. If you're good I'll let you come to class with me.” Amelia shakes her head, smiling ruefully.

His smile touches his eyes for moment. “Deal.”

Adam ignores the lecture, probably for the first time in his life, as he texts his brother on his new cellphone.

> Can you get me tickets to the Black Eyed Peas concert?

The return message from his brother is tersely to the point.

> For tonight? You're kidding.

> Never more serious. Whatever it takes.

> Have you even heard BEP?

> Just get them for me.

When there's no response, Adam follows it with a single word:

> Please.

Adam watches, anxious.  Finally a message appears.

> I'll see what I can do kid. Just don't hold your breath.

“I can't believe this weather,” says Krystal, stopping beside the wooded path that leads to Fyfield House.

Oscar says, “I agree, it's better than what we had for summer.” He shakes the blanket, letting it billow out and settle on the grass under the huge weeping willow.

“Pity it won't last,” says Maggie as she sits cross legged in the middle of the blanket, balancing her laptop in her lap. Oscar positions his bag in the corner of the blanket and drops down beside Maggie, laying back and using the computer as a pillow.

Krystal holds a finger to her lips and cautions Maggie, “Shhhh . . . mother nature might hear you.” Then she lays down along the blanket's other edge, parallel to Oscar, but on her stomach, propped on her elbows as she opens her email account.

Oscar laughs and says “Climate change seems pretty real to me. Never know what we're going to get. Perhaps winter will give us a miss altogether this year.”

“In your dreams, Oz,” says Krystal. “Hey, didn't you go home this summer?”

Oscar says, “If you knew my family, you'd understand why not.”

Maggie watches Krystal type. “I don't know how you can type like that. I tried that once and lost all circulation.”

Krystal smiles. “I dunno . . . works for me.” She scans the subject column, routinely marking obvious spam for destruction.

Maggie clears her throat. “Uh, Krys, there's something I have to tell you.” Maggie says. Krystal rolls over on her side, looking up at her friend.

“That doesn't sound good, Maggie.”

“Yeah, because I think you're going to be mad.” Krystal watches Maggie, who is having a hard time making eye contact. “I'm sorry Krys, but I was really down and I, well, I kind of told Oz.”

“You what?”

From his side of the blanket, Oscar looks over at Krystal, meeting her eyes firmly. “I dragged it out of her. I am sorry. And in future we will be quite careful not to let it go any further.”

“Further? What further?” Krystal's eyes narrow. “Who else knows? What did you do, run an ad on
Craigslist
?”

“Worse. We discussed it in the common room.”

Krystal shakes her head and sits up. “I don't believe you Maggie. First you haunt me until I tell you, and when I do you broadcast it to the world. It's
my
life, don't you get that?”

“I'm sorry. I thought we were alone but Jake came in and heard too. I'm so sorry.”

“It wasn't intentional, I promise you that.” adds Oscar.

“Jake?  Jesus, you guys.  So that's everybody?  You didn't tell anybody else? I mean, Jose doesn't know, right?” Both Oscar and Maggie shake their heads solemnly, looking dejected. “Look, you guys need to understand. It's hard enough for me to be here, but if the whole world knows I won't be able to stick it out.”

“I get it Krystal, and I can't tell you enough that I'm so sorry.” Maggie tells her with feeling.

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask, I may not tell.” Krystal replies wryly.

“Why are you here? I mean, I don't know that I'd go to school if it was me.”

“Really? Where else would I be? I'm here for the same reason you are, I love computers. I like working with them, getting them to do what I want them to. I like learning to make them do stuff I don't even know I want them to do. It's fun.”

“But, if I only had . . .”

“You think so? I might outlive you, girl. You could be hit by a bus tomorrow, Maggie. Why waste your time if this isn't what you want to do?”

Maggie nods, “I guess. I hadn't thought about it.”

“Well, I have, and I decided I want to live like I mean it.”

“I guess you have. I can't tell you how sorry I am, Krys.”

“Yeah, I know you are. So now you can stop apologizing and move on, okay?” Krystal holds her eye, “I just want a normal life.”

“I understand.” Maggie nods.

Krystal smiles, “On the other hand if Hugh Jackman called me up and asked me to loll in the sun on the French Riviera it might be different.” Krystal looks at her unhappy companions. “Okay, who knows a good funny story?”

Sniffling, Maggie asks, “Funny story?”

“That's what I want, to hang out with friends and have fun.”

Krystal turns to Oscar. “Come on Oz, got any more Oscar Wilde stories? I really liked the one about the cowboy.”

“That was good, wasn't it.” Oscar grins, “You know, Maggie has her own wild story. Did she ever tell you about her flasher?”

Krystal's eyes widen, “Flasher? No way. Tell!”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “But it wasn't funny.”

“Ah, but it was,” says Oscar.

Krystal turns to Oscar, “Come on, then, Oz, spill it.”

Liz is sitting at one of the library tables with several weighty volumes spread open around her when Jake pulls up a chair.

“I tried texting you but didn't get an answer. You use paper books, huh? Interesting.”

“Lots of stuff isn't digitized. Besides, I get tired of staring at a screen all the time, Jake. But listen, I've gotta get this essay finished and I'm almost there. Just a little more, then I can write it up. And writing is not my thing. So,” she turns to smile sweetly at him. “What do I have to do to make you go away?”

“Well,” Jake begins, “if you're gonna be like that.”

Just looking at Jake's Cheshire cat grin, Liz can tell she'll want to know.

Hmmm. “Alright. What do you want to tell me?”

“Ask me how I can be of assistance to you.”

Liz studies him, sighs, then decides to play the game.

“Okay, how are you going to help me, Jake?”

“I'm working on a project for Professor Mol, a kick-ass slide show that'll run on every available surface during the school Christmas party.”

“Sounds cool. You want me to help?”

“Um, no, actually.”

Exasperated. “So what are you bugging me about then?”

“That's not what you're supposed to say.”

Liz laughs, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth to avoid being ejected on a noise complaint. People are looking, so she ducks down to whisper, “What am supposed to ask?”

“Ask me why the organizer doesn't want your help.”

“What? I get along great with the Prof. She's my hero. There's no problem, at least not that I know. Oh God, is there something I should know? What have I screwed up? Or does she just hate me? Why doesn't she want me?”

“Not Professor Mol,” Jake can't keep from grinning as he says, “Professor Mol's T.A. is the organizer.”

Liz narrows her eyes, looking hard at Jake.

“I don't have any problem with Ethan.” Jake looks at her with eyebrows raised, and she feels the blood rising to her face. “You gonna harass me about this for the rest of my life or what? Ohmigod you didn't say anything.”

“No,” Jake leans in, “What I'm trying to do is tell you a secret.”

Sceptical. “What?”

“Ethan doesn't want you to help because he thinks you're too much of a distraction.”

Liz opens her mouth then shuts it. She stares at Jake, waiting for him to give up on this monstrous tease and tell her the real story. But he's just sitting there. Smug.

“On the level. I told him he should ask you and he . . . look, he's got it bad. Real bad. But he's not gonna do anything about it.”

“Why is that? Oh, I get it, I'm too tall for him, right?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head, “He didn't say anything like that. More like you're too good for him.”

“What? That's crazy.”

“I'm just telling you what he said. But if you wanna get together with him, you're the one's gonna have to ask him out.”

Heart pounding, Liz snaps, “Maybe I will.”

“I'll watch your stuff. He's in Mol's room right now.”

“OK, I will.” She gets up and starts away, but turns back and leans in close.

“You're not making this up, right?”

Ethan is collating paperwork when Liz comes in.

“Hey Ethan.”

His grin gives credence to Jake's story. “Uh, Liz. Hi.”

Okay, she thinks, I can do this. “They're screening Un Chien Andalou at the Art Centre tonight, so do you want to go with me?”

“Uh, what? They're screening what?”

“Un Chien Andalou. It's this really weird old movie, I've read about it but I've never had a chance to see it. It's a collaboration between the famous French film director Louis Bunuel and the artist Salvador Dalí. You know Dalí, the guy who painted all those droopy clocks? Anyway It's an old movie, from the nineteen thirties, but the best part is that Salvadore Dalí didn't just work on it he's actually in it too. Anyway, it's supposed to be way weird, I mean it's Dalí, right, of course it will be weird, with interesting cinematography and special effects and anyway I'm going. Um. So you want to come with me?”

Liz is mad at herself for babbling until she realizes that Ethan is smiling big and nodding. She smiles back.

“It starts at seven, but I want real good seats so maybe meet out front at six thirty?” Ethan nods happily.

“See you then.”