The Banana Split Affair (12 page)

“Boy,” Chris teased as they left the house, “you sure are smooth when it comes to getting over the hurdle of parents.” She realized immediately that that was a very Chris thing to say.

“What do you mean?” Keith glanced at her quizzically. “I wasn’t trying to fool your parents. I was only being polite. No different from the way I act around everyone’s parents. I think they deserve some respect, don’t you?”

“Of course. I was only kidding.”

You’d better watch what you say, Chris scolded herself. Don’t forget that you’re supposed to be Susan. Besides, Keith isn’t the kind of boy who likes to be teased. He’s much more serious and sincere than most of the other guys I’ve gone out with. Whether I’m Chris or Susan in the future, I’d better cool it.

Chris or Susan. She was hit with a flash of guilt. She was supposed to be going out with Keith to make him like her sister, not her. Yet she was having such a hard time remembering that! Goodness, what was she going to do when their second week of the Banana Split Affair was over? Just forget all about Keith and hand him over to Susan? How was she expected to stop herself from liking him?

Well, don’t spend your whole evening worrying about that, she told herself. Just have a good time, for whatever it’s worth. This may be the first and only time you get to go out with Keith, so at least enjoy it. Worry about the future tomorrow.

“So tell me, Susan,” Keith said as they rode the bus to the skating rink. “How did you first get interested in art?”

Chris tried to remember how Susan had gotten involved. “Oh, you know how little kids are always given crayons and paints and all that from kindergarten on. I just happened to like doing drawings and paintings much more than most of the other kids. And from the beginning, my teachers were always saying that I had a lot of talent.” Was that too boastful? Chris wondered. Would Susan be so open about complimenting herself? She peeked over at Keith to see how he was reacting. He was simply nodding in agreement, so she decided she was doing all right.

“That’s lucky,” he said. “It’s nice when the things you like to do and the things you’re good at are one and the same.”

“Well, you’re that way, too.” Chris could remember Susan saying that she thought Keith was one of the best art students in the school.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I want to do in the long run. I hope to become a doctor.”

“Really? How exciting! How come?”

“I find science much more interesting than art. Oh, art is fun, of course, and there’s a lot to get out of it, both doing it and appreciating it. But I want to help people in a much more concrete way,” He turned red at that point, acting more like the bashful Keith Chris knew from art class. “You know, Susan, I’ve never told anyone that before ... that I wanted to be a doctor”

“Really? I’m surprised. That’s such an impressive career to want to follow.”

Keith shrugged. “I guess so. But I’m always afraid people will laugh at me.”

“Why? Why should anyone laugh at you?”

“Gee, that’s a good question. I guess in reality no one would. But it’s just something I worry about sometimes.”

“Yeah, me, too.” There. That sounded like something Susan would say. Chris tended to go ahead and do whatever she wanted, barging through her life like a bull in a china shop, not stopping to see if any damage had been done until afterward. But Susan was cautious and very much concerned with what other people would think of her

“Can I ask you something, then, Keith?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you tell me, then?”

He hesitated, his cheeks turning pink once again. “I don’t know, Susan. I think I knew you wouldn’t laugh, I’ve always thought there was something about you that made you more sensitive than most other people. Maybe it’s the way you paint; maybe it’s just the way you act. You know, sort of carefully, as Sf you don’t want anyone to get hurt by what you do or say. You’re very tuned in to other people. It’s almost as if you have a sixth sense about how to make people feel at ease. People just know they can trust you.”

What a lovely thing to say. Chris was flattered, until she realized that it was Susan that Keith was talking about, not her. In fact, she doubted that anyone would ever say something like that about her. Was it possible that worrying about what other people thought, at least in terms of being careful not to hurt their feelings, was a good thing? Chris vowed to start being more sensitive to people. From now on, she would take the time to think about how people might react to some of the more outrageous things she said.

“Here we are!” Keith jumped up and started for the door of the bus. For a split second Chris thought he was going to take her hand. She wished he would, but he was still basically shy, no matter how honest he was being with her. As they crossed the street to the skating rink, she was tempted to take his arm. But she held herself back, not wanting to make him ill at ease.

Keith seemed to like quiet girls, something that had never even occurred to Chris before. She just assumed boys liked their dates to be talkative and clever, constantly joking and teasing them. Was Keith really that different? Or had she been acting too flippant all along?

Maybe that was why Chris’s dates never asked her out more than two or three times. Perhaps they got tired of her lack of seriousness after a while. Now, that was something to think about.

The rest of the evening proceeded like a dream. Keith was the perfect date as far as Chris was concerned. He was considerate, constantly asking her if she was thirsty, if she was tired of skating, if she was cold and wanted to wear his sweater.

They spent almost two hours skating. Keith was a good skater, and the two of them developed a kind of routine that enabled them to circle the ring together without falling or getting in each other’s way. When Chris was skating alone and two or three boys asked her to skate with them, she had no qualms about telling them no, that she was there with someone. In the past she had found many of her dates boring, and she had been all too willing to switch dance partners or bowling partners, hoping to find someone more interesting. But for some reason, spending time with Keith was so much fun that she didn’t want to waste any time with any other boys, even those who were better-looking or older or more outgoing.

When they both agreed that they felt as if their feet were going to fall off, Chris and Keith returned their skates to the rental office and walked down the street to an area filled with fast-food places and small restaurants.

“I don’t know about you,” said Keith, “but I’m starving. All that exercise really wore me out. I have a feeling I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Me, too! Not only are my muscles starting to yell at me, asking me what in the world I’ve done to them; I’m also tired mentally from all that concentrating. When you have to keep thinking about what you’re doing so you don’t fall, it’s as draining as taking an exam at school!”

“Well, milady, you have your choice of hot spots. What kind of food are you in the mood for?”

“How about a hamburger? I’m about ready for a second dinner!”

“You’ve got great taste, Susan. I could really go for a sloppy hamburger, with millions of french fries and a whole vatful of Coke. And then, for the main course ...”

“Oh, you!” Chris teased, punching him playfully in the arm. She froze then, realizing that that was a very Chris thing to do. But Keith didn’t seem to mind. In fact, once she had broken the ice by touching him in such a natural, joking way, she felt that much closer to Keith. He apparently felt it, too, for he reached over and took her hand. Chris had held hands with a lot of boys in her day, but never had it been as sweet as this. She could tell that Keith didn’t have too much experience going out with girls. So the simple, innocent act of taking her hand was much more meaningful to him than it was to most of the boys she went out with, and that made it mean more to her, too.

While they gorged themselves on a snack just like the one Keith had described, Chris and he kidded each other about the way they skated. But then the conversation became much more serious, with Keith telling her more about why he wanted to be a doctor and how much it meant to him. Again Chris was struck by the contrast between him and her usual dates. Usually she plastered an interested look on her face and let the boy she was out with talk all he wanted while she daydreamed or kept her eyes open to see who else came into the restaurant.

But she was genuinely fascinated by what Keith had to say. Maybe it was because he was a deeper person; maybe it was just because she liked him so much. At any rate, she was so busy asking him questions and listening to him that she had little time to say much about herself. Or rather, about Susan.

“Gee, look at the time!” Keith exclaimed when only a few soggy french fries were left and all the ice in the paper cups had melted. “I’d better get you home, or your father will never let me take you out again!”

Chris was pleased. But then she remembered the awful truth. It was possible that she would have the chance to go out with Keith one more time, the following weekend, which was the last two days of the Banana Split Affair. But after that it would be Susan, not she, who got to date him. Her sister would go skating with him and share french fries with him and talk to him for hours. The real Susan would be the one to hold his hand and, eventually, to kiss him. It wasn’t fair! Chris found herself hating the Banana Split Affair. If it weren’t for their stupid game, she never would have met Keith! Not unless he became Susan’s boyfriend. And then she would never have had the chance to find out what a really special guy he was!

Chris was quiet as she and Keith sat in the back of the bus, riding toward her house.

“Is there anything wrong, Susan? Or are you just tired? It is awfully late....”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I was just daydreaming.”

“About what?”

Chris glanced over at him, then blushed beet red. “Well, about tonight, as a matter of fact.”

“Really? What were you thinking?” He grabbed her purse out of her lap and said teasingly, “Come on, Susan. If you don’t tell me, I’ll steal your pocketbook. I’ll throw it into the river. Or better yet, I’ll have it bronzed....”

Chris laughed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, that’s all. To tell you the truth,” she said with a slight hesitation, “I was daydreaming about you.”

“About me? Why daydream about me when you’ve got the real thing right here, sitting next to you?” More seriously, he said, “No, really, Susan, you don’t have to tell me. I have no right to pry into your thoughts. Of course, now that you’ve told me you were daydreaming about
me,
I’m dying to know ...”

“Well,” Chris sighed, without looking at him. “I was thinking about how nice it would be to go out with you again. That’s all.”

“And here I was expecting you to say you were thinking that my ears were too big or my feet reminded you of turnips or something horrible like that!” He chuckled. “But really, Susan, I think that’s nice that you told me. Especially since I’ve been thinking the same thing all evening. I hope we can keep going out for a long time. I really like you. And I’m not afraid to admit it, the way some people are. I hope we can spend a lot of time together I had a really terrific time tonight.”

“Thanks, Keith. I’m glad you’re being so honest, too.” She smiled at him sadly. This was even worse! Not only did she like him a lot; he felt the same way about her! That meant that he and Susan would continue going out, probably for a long, long time, and she would just sit by and watch! How would she be able to stand it? And she would never be able to breathe a word of the truth about her feelings to her twin, either. She would have to live with this secret forever. Why, oh, why did I ever agree to go through with this? she asked herself again. I never suspected I would end up getting so hurt!

The bus ride was over too soon, and Keith and Chris jumped off a block from her house. As they walked down the street together hand in hand, Chris thought, I know what I’ll do. I won’t kiss him good-night. That way, once I become Chris again and I can’t go out with him anymore, I won’t feel quite as bad.

But when Keith walked her up to the front steps and looked at her with that watery expression in his eyes that said he was about to kiss her, she eagerly leaned forward to meet his lips. She expected to feel guilty kissing him, but all she was aware of was how nice it felt to be so close to him.

“Good night, Susan,” he said softly. “I’ll see you in
class on Monday. That is, if I can manage to wait that long.”

“Good night, Keith.” She was torn between feeling the thrill of coming home after a wonderful evening and the sadness of inevitable separation. “And thanks for a terrific time.”

She waited until he had disappeared into the night, then let herself into the house. Her parents were in the living room, watching the news.

“Hi!” she said with forced cheerfulness, strolling in.

“Hello, whoever you are,” returned her father. “You’re home right on time, I’m happy to see. Did you have a good time?”

Chris just shrugged. “Okay, I guess. But I’m bushed. Think I’ll go right up to bed. Good night!”

“That must be Susan,” she heard her mother comment as she went up the stairs to her room. “If it were Chris, she would insist upon giving us a rundown of how terrific her evening was and how wonderful the boy she went out with is.”

If you only knew, she thought, going into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. My evening was so terrific, and the boy I went out with so wonderful, that to talk about it would spoil it. And make it hurt that much more later on.

“Well, Chris,” she said aloud, kicking off her shoes and pulling out the tortoiseshell barrette she had clipped into her hair for the evening, “you’re back to being yourself again. Miss Popularity. Hah!”

Never before had her role as one of the best-known, best-liked girls at school seemed so ironic. Chris had always prided herself on her active social life, her outstanding popularity. But now she found herself hating that distinction.

“Chris Pratt,” she mumbled, climbing into her nightgown and sliding into bed, “famous for being the girl who can get any boy she wants.