Last Stop This Town (19 page)

In Haley’s bedroom—or was it Cassandra’s?—Pike was in his underwear kissing and dry humping the two naked girls. This was the hottest thing he’d ever imagined, let alone actually done, and Cassandra grabbed his crotch again.

But instead of her sexy voice, Cassandra seemed disappointed. “What’s the matter?” she teased. “Not sexy enough for you?”

Pike had no idea what she was talking about. He was too caught up in the kissing and groping to notice that he was apparently trying to shoot pool with a rope. He had Whiskey Dick… E.D. … Flaccid Phallus… That’s right. Pike was limp.

He turned bright red.

“This has never happened before,” Pike blurted out. And it hadn’t.

“Don’t worry about it,” Haley reassured him. “Probably just the weed.”

But Pike was starting to panic. “No, I can do this!” he announced as he furiously started beating the bishop.

All the action came to a screeching halt as the girls sat up and watched Pike trying to get himself hard. And he was not being gentle.

“Jesus, you’re going to pull it off!” Haley warned.

“Here,” Cassandra cooed, the voice of reason, “Let us help.”

They tried, each individually and together, both orally and manually, but after a painfully un-arousing half-hour, the girls gave up and just sat up in bed, frustrated.

But Pike was not going to let this beat him. He was going to die trying. He attempted to reassure the dubious girls, “Look, I can do this. Trust me, I am the master of my own domain. Just don’t go anywhere.”

He excused himself and headed into the bathroom. Pike stared at himself in the mirror, standing there naked, and took a deep breath. His brain was still foggy from the pot, so he splashed some water on his face and tried to clear his head. He jumped up and down a couple times, trying to psych himself up, then reached down and started masturbating once again.

He ran through a slate of mental images: Selena Gomez. Catholic schoolgirls. That yogurt commercial. Walker’s mom.

He looked down. Nothing.

Then he spoke out loud, “Come on, buddy. Don’t let me down. You do this for me, I swear to God I will never smoke pot again!”

In that moment he realized something. He looked off into the distance and cursed, “Shut up, Dylan.”

D
YLAN AND
N
OAH
sat on the curb ten feet apart, not speaking to each other. Noah had sensibly abandoned his attempt at walking home or hitchhiking, but after their fight there wasn’t much left to say.

Dylan broke the silence. “You remember your first day of kindergarten?”

Noah looked over at him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready yet to start talking to Dylan again or, even if he were ready, if this was some sort of rhetorical question. He decided to respond and said, “No.”

“Me either,” Dylan replied, starting to get into one of his nostalgic moods. “But I remember we used to take naps on these ratty carpets. I used to hate taking those naps.” He thought about it for a second then added, “I love naps now.”

Noah was getting annoyed. For a straight shooter, Dylan could be pretty cryptic at times, and he was the worst when he was trying to be philosophical. “What’s your point?” Noah demanded.

Dylan explained, “I only remember bits and pieces. High school is so real compared to back then. It’s like… sometimes I feel like my life is something that’s happening to someone else and I’m just watching.”

Noah studied him and decided this was Dylan opening up. Noah let down his wall a bit and replied, “Yeah.”

“Ten years from now high school is going to be like kindergarten. Our brains are just going to file it under shit that happened a long time ago.”

Dylan was actually making sense and Noah thought about what he said.

Dylan looked at Noah and caught his eye before admitting, “I’m not going to UConn next year.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going into the Army. I enlisted.” Dylan had been thinking about how to tell his friends for months now but had never really come up with any clever scenarios, so this seemed as good a time as any.

“What? No, you didn’t.” Noah was taken aback. It seemed like a joke, but Dylan didn’t look like he was joking.

“Yeah, I did,” Dylan said matter-of-factly. “I go to basic training next Saturday.”

“Are you being serious?” Noah asked in a shaky voice. But Noah could see that Dylan
was
being serious. Suddenly, Noah exploded. “What the fuck, Dylan?! Are you crazy?!”

Noah stood up, actually mad at Dylan.

Dylan stood as well and walked toward Noah. He shook his head, “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, you’re right I don’t understand. We’re still at war, asshole!”

“You know what? Forget it. I’m sorry I told you.”

Noah was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Then the pieces just fell together in his mind. “So that’s what this whole trip is all about. This
is
your last weekend with us.”

Dylan looked him in the eye with a little guilty nod and admitted, “Yeah.”

But Noah was still trying to wrap his head around this. “Why, Dylan? At least try to explain it to me.”

Dylan took a deep breath and tried to make it make sense. “Look. Everything’s always been easy for me. Okay, maybe I don’t get straight As, but I feel like I’ve always had things pretty well figured out.”

Noah listened.

“I need this challenge. I’m going to try to make Army Rangers.”

“This isn’t a video game.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dylan said somberly.

Noah could see this was not a spur-of-the-moment thing for Dylan. This was a decision he’d probably agonized over, and he’d done it alone. “What’d your Dad say?”

“He’s pretty pissed,” Dylan admitted.

They laughed. But Noah was still speechless. He just shook his head.

This was one of those life-altering moments you remember forever, and the fact that Noah could step out of the moment and see it happening was surreal. It was all too much for Noah to process. He closed his eyes and tried to block it all out.

But then a thought flashed into Noah’s brain. This moment, right now, was when things would change. It would all be different from here on out.

Dylan was right. This chapter of their lives
was
over, and no matter how hard they tried, their relationship was going to be different now. They had been taking each other for granted all these years, blindly marching toward the precipice of graduation as if nothing would change when they fell into the abyss. But now he realized that they would never be this close again. Never spend another weekend together like this. Sure, they’d email and text and maybe see each other over the summer. But the fundamental nature of their bond was breaking. Forever.

He looked over at Dylan and suddenly felt a surge of emotion. Dylan was right next to him, here and now. He could reach out and touch him. This moment felt so real. But it also felt like it was slipping away. A distance was forming between them and even now he could see it starting. A drifting apart. They were growing up, Noah guessed, and it felt like shit.

Dylan saw it in Noah’s eyes and gave him a reassuring smile, one he’d given Noah a thousand times before, one that said,
Don’t worry. It’ll
all be okay.

Noah nodded.

Then Dylan changed the subject, turning back to Noah apologetically. “If you love Sarah so much, why’d you listen to me?”

“Because I always listen to you,” Noah admitted. And there was the problem. Noah knew it and Dylan knew it. With great power comes great responsibility.

“I know. I’m sorry. The truth is I don’t have all the answers.”

This was a rare admission for Dylan, and Noah appreciated that he’d said it. Suddenly, Noah thought of something.

“Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“We get the car, then we go to the party and rescue my girlfriend.” Noah was re-energized.

Dylan forced a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

As they turned to leave, Noah caught Dylan’s gaze. Dylan was tearing up.

Noah had never seen Dylan like this before. Something in his eye. Was he afraid? Noah stopped and gave Dylan a big hug.

And Dylan didn’t want to let go.

Finally, Noah pulled away and said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

And with that, Noah led them down the street.

W
ALKER AND
G
ENEVIEVE
were now dancing in the foam pit, as bubbles from an industrial-strength foam machine filled the floor. They were laughing, having a great time. The mash-up of MGMT’s “Time to Pretend” and Talib Kweli’s “Listen!!!” ended and Genevieve pulled Walker away from the pit for a breather.

Walker looked at Genevieve. “How is it possible that we’ve gone to the same school together for all these years and we’ve never spoken once until tonight, five days before graduation?”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“We have spoken before,” she corrected. “A lot of times. You just don’t remember. Because I guess for some reason you decided you already had enough friends.”

Walker looked down, embarrassed. “I’m a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He looked up into her eyes, a little sad. “You are so cool. I can’t believe I missed… knowing you.”

Genevieve laughed.

Walker leaned in and kissed her. No debate, hand-wringing, or inner turmoil. It just felt right, and for the first time in his life Walker lived in the moment.

After a long kiss, they came up for air and she looked him in the eye. Without saying a word, she took him by the hand and led him up some stairs in the back of the hall.

Noah and Dylan continued walking down Flatbush Avenue until they arrived at a crowded Greek diner with cars parked in the lot.

“There we go,” Noah announced and headed inside.

Dylan had no idea what Noah was doing, but followed him anyway.

Inside the diner, Noah walked up to the empty hostess stand and shouted over the noise, “Who here parked in the handicapped space?!”

Everyone stopped eating and looked over at him, but no one answered. Dylan played along, still completely in the dark on this one.

A heavy manager in a burgundy dress shirt (but no tie) finally came over to them and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Someone parked illegally in the handicapped parking space.”

“Sorry about that but what do you want me to do about it?”

Dylan wondered the same thing.

Noah got in the guy’s face. “I want you to call the towing company and have them towed.”

“Come on. Just park in some other space.”

Noah raised his voice dramatically. “Yeah, and I guess my buddy in the car should have just parked in ‘some other space’ back in Kandahar when that IED blew his legs off!”

Checkmate.

The manager stared blankly at Noah and Dylan then turned and shouted out: “Who parked in the handicapped space?!”

Still, no one answered.

Noah stared at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.”

The manager picked up the phone and called the tow company. Satisfied, Noah and Dylan headed outside to wait.

The minute they were out of earshot, Dylan grabbed Noah’s arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

But there was no time to explain just yet, and Noah simply replied, “Help me with this sign.”

Noah went over to the blue handicapped parking sign attached to a cylindrical concrete block which stood, in fact, in front of an empty space. But Noah starting rolling it away from the empty space toward the adjacent spot where a Chevy Malibu was parked.

Dylan finally understood what Noah was doing and grabbed the sign to help roll it over to the other space. When they were done it looked like
that
car had parked in the handicapped space.