Flat-Out Love by Jessica Park (2)

Julie held up a pale blue silky top. “I’m wearing this tonight, so pick something that will look nice with it.” She wondered briefly if it would be rude not to invite Matt to come with her, but the thought of showing up at her first—or any— Whitney party with him was not at the top of her list.

Celeste stared at the row of little bottles. “I’m not equipped to make this decision, Julie. I don’t want to choose the wrong one. Let me ask Flat Finn.”

“No, I want you to pick it out. There is no wrong one, silly.” Julie took the deep purple and the bright red and held them up. “Seductive, vampire bad girl versus traditional, hot, all-around sexy gal. There are no losers in this color game. Unless you just buy some stupid color like metallic green. Never do that. So, let the nail polish speak to you. You try one.”

Celeste nodded seriously and then examined a light pink bottle. “Whimsical, gentle, and tasteful. A classic?”

“Brilliant! Now give me your toes.” Julie sat down in front of Celeste and began applying the polish.

Celeste sat quietly, occasionally peeking at Flat Finn, who stood monitoring the pedicure. “It was her idea, not mine!” she quipped. “He is a bit unsettled by this. I’ve never had my nails painted.”

Julie turned around and glared at Flat Finn. “Every girl has a right to painted nails, so you better get settled quick, Flatty.”

Celeste giggled. “Oh, he didn’t like that name one bit.”

“Tough. OK, give me your fingers now. Different color or the same?”

“I have no idea.”

“Here, this one will be nice for you. It looks sort of orange in the bottle, but it’s a nice muted red when it’s on.”

Celeste gave Julie her hand. “I trust you. Although Flat Finn has his doubts because he thinks the color resembles tangerines.”

Julie grabbed a shirt from the nearest box and flung it at the figure, landing the shirt perfectly on the cardboard head. “There. Now grumpy boy doesn’t have to watch. This is girl stuff anyway.” Julie opened the bottle and started on Celeste’s fingers before she could protest. “So, it’s Saturday night. What are you doing?”

“Flat Finn and I are going to read All Creatures Great and Small.”

“Sounds like an outrageous evening. Hey, whose piano is that off the front hall? I haven’t heard anyone playing.” Julie looked at Celeste. “I mean, besides Flat Finn.”

“Oh. The piano. I used to play. Not anymore.”

“Got bored?”

“Not bored so much as disenchanted. What is your party going to be like?”

Julie shrugged. “Drunk boys, crying girls, loud music.” She smiled. “But it’ll be fun anyway.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “What are you plans for the drunk boys?”

“I’m going to sit them down and give them a long lecture on the unappealing nature of overindulging in beer and Jell-O shots. Then, I’ll ground them and send them to bed. Alone.”

“That is not what I meant. How will you protect yourself?”

“I don’t need a plan. They’ll be harmless and mildly cute in a pathetically boozy way.”

“What if one of them wants to be your boyfriend? What will you do then?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, anyway.” Julie blew across Celeste’s nails. “Don’t touch anything for at least fifteen minutes.”

“Why don’t you want a boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I do. I’d just have to meet the right guy. Someone who isn’t ordinary. Someone who gets me. Someone I fit perfectly with. I want heat, chemistry, an undeniable connection. You know what I mean? I want it all. I’m done with ordinary and mediocre.”

“You believe in true love,” Celeste stated.

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

“So you think that you’re going to find true love at this party tonight?”

“Doubtful.”

“Why are you going then?”

“For fun. To meet people and make friends. To be eighteen and silly. To escape the existential dreariness of the real world,” Julie added dramatically. She set her makeup in front of the floor-length mirror, knotted her hair on top of her head, and started putting on mascara. “Mostly to go flirt. I have to keep my skills honed because I might need them one day.”

“I bet it’s easy for you,” Celeste said, as she examined her fingers and toes.

“What? Flirting?”

“Yes.”

“Depends. There’s flirting,” Julie said, jokingly pushing her chest out, “and then there’s flirting.” She tapped the side of her temple. “It’s the second one that’s hard because you’re putting more of yourself out there.”

Celeste moved to stand next to Julie and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned sideways and then forward again, holding her fingers splayed in front of her so she wouldn’t smudge her polish.

“Here. Try this on.” Julie handed her a sheer lip gloss.

Celeste took the gloss and examined it as if it were a specimen from the moon. “I really do not think that this is necessary. I do not think that Flat Finn will view this positively.”

“It’s not necessary. But it’s what thirteen-year-old girls do. You’ve never worn makeup?”

Celeste shook her head emphatically. “I cannot begin to imagine what Finn would think.”

By the time Julie had turned thirteen, she’d already experimented with numerous disastrous shades of shadow, framed her eyes with crooked streaks of black liner, and infuriated her mother with her embarrassingly large collection of lipstick.

“Here, I’ll do it for you.” Julie got up and put one hand under Celeste’s chin, steadying her face as she dabbed some sheen onto her lips. “A little lip-gloss on you won’t kill Finn. He’ll deal with it.”

Celeste’s already pale skin became nearly translucent and her eyes glistened. Julie pulled back. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” Great. First Erin and now Celeste. Either this family was insane, or Julie was causing some sort of panic reaction in everyone she came in contact with.

Celeste clamped her hand onto Julie’s arm and looked at her. She turned to face the mirror and rubbed her lips together. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she continued to clutch Julie’s arm.

Julie, with the lip-gloss wand still held in front of her, felt her hand tremble slightly. Something was happening to Celeste, something she didn’t understand. Julie closed her eyes for a moment. “See what Flat Finn thinks.” She pulled off the shirt that she’d tossed at him. “Does he approve?”

Celeste cautiously moved to stand by Flat Finn. She held very still and stared directly into the photographed eyes. The color returned to her cheeks. “Yes. He likes it. He likes it very much.” She inhaled and exhaled deeply, and slowly a cautious smile emerged. “Can I watch you put on the rest of your makeup?”

 

**********

 

Julie drove home from the campus party, parked in the driveway, and did her best to shut the car door quietly. She was home later than she’d expected, and, although Erin had been quite clear about giving Julie the freedom to come and go as she pleased, it was still hard not to feel some obligation to come home before dawn. She started fiddling with the tricky old lock on the front door, but in the dark, it was tough. The party had been fun, just not fun enough to be worth spending the night on the Watkins’ front porch.

She’d met at least thirty other Whitney students. Although she’d been a bit hesitant about walking into a party alone, it had been a good crowd, and she’d had fun. Even with the beer flowing freely, there was a different feel from high school parties. Yes, there’d been the drunk boys and crying girls she’d predicted, and surprisingly more than enough sober(ish), non-hysterical people. She’d even been hit on a few times, which, while amusing and a little flattering, hadn’t led to anything more than the mention of meeting up for coffee between classes. But she was tired, and so had ducked out around twelve-thirty after Jamie and Dana’s public groping session had taken a breather, and she’d been able to say good-bye to them.

Julie shut her eyes and focused on the key in the lock, listening for sounds that she was doing something right. After figuring out a combination of rotating the handle just a smidge while wriggling the key as it turned, she made it inside. The house was dark, and Julie tiptoed up the stairs to the second floor. In the quiet, she noticed that the fifth step from the bottom creaked loudly, the sound echoing up the stairwell. She’d have to remember that.

Matthew’s door was ajar, and his light on. Julie tapped lightly on the door, causing it to swing open. “Matt?”

“Hey, Julie.” Matt was crouched over his computer, obviously wide awake.

She walked in and sat down on the bed.  “What are you doing?”

“Working myself into a frenzy over an online debate about people who go around breaking into computer systems and claim their only reason for doing so is to expose security weaknesses.”

“Oh. You didn’t go out tonight?”

“Nope.” He was still looking at the screen.  “My father had a work party, so my parents were out until about an hour ago. Someone had to stay with Celeste.”

Most thirteen-year-olds would have pitched a fit at having their brother stay home with them. For reasons Julie didn’t understand yet, Celeste needed someone around all the time.

Julie leaned back on her hands and crossed her legs, bouncing one leg up and down. “Flat Finn couldn’t do it?”

“His general incompetence reaches monumental and dangerous proportions,” he said absently. “Totally untrustworthy.”

“I feel bad that I had the car. You mom didn’t mention they were going out when she said I should take it tonight.”

“They prefer to walk.”

Julie looked around. His bedroom looked more like an office than a college student’s room. The only thing on the wall was a poster with a freaky glowing nebula thing and an incomprehensible equation. “What is that?” she asked.

“The poster? It’s the dynamics of electromagnetic radiation shown through Maxwell equations.”

“It’s extremely decorative. Gives the room a warm touch.”

Matt tapped the keyboard.

“I went to a party at school tonight. It was all right. Nothing thrilling.”

She wondered again if she’d had some social obligation to invite him. They were living in the same house after all. She could have just introduced him as the son of the family she was staying with so that she wouldn’t have scared off any potential dates.  But maybe she wasn’t that good a person. Plus, there was something about his tone tonight that was rather pissy and cold. He looked sort of pathetic here, slumped in his swivel chair, his evening’s social activities confined to communicating with other loner boys. Not most people’s idea of a raging Saturday night.

Matt was frowning at one of the forum messages. “Idiots. How anyone can justify hacking into the Chicago transit system? Yeah, sure we all think that guy was trying to prevent someone else from using access for malicious intent!” He turned back to Julie. “Sorry. What?”

“I said that the party was all right. I’m glad I went.”

“Good.”

“Listen, Matt,” she started. Great. He was already back on his stupid forum. Maybe he didn’t feel like talking, but something was bothering her. Especially with the way he could barely look at her. “Matt? Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to, but I kind of heard you and your mom the other day. It sounded like a bit of an argument. I can’t help wondering if it was about me staying here.” Julie fidgeted with her watchstrap. “Are you not OK with it? I mean, I would understand. Really. This strange girl moves into your house with no notice, takes over your brother’s room, makes you eat metaphoric manicotti. I get it. Probably not what every boy dreams about.”

Matt smirked as he typed. “I never said you were strange.”

“That was an expression.” Julie waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. She stood up and walked to the door. “Well, I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what?” Matt looked up. “No, Julie. It’s fine.”

She stopped just outside the hall. “You don’t mind that I’m here?”

“No. It makes sense. We’ve got an extra room.”

Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm. “At least you won’t have to come home to be with Celeste in the afternoons, since I’ll be doing that. You’ll get more work done, right?”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “I will. Just don’t bother Celeste about Flat Finn, and everything will be fine.”

“OK. Good. Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Julie.”

She went to her room and shut the door. If Matt was cranky, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with her. But there was still something bothering her. She yawned and opened her laptop. Maybe Finn could help.

 

Finn-

Hey. Are you online? I need that advice sooner than I expected. Wondering if  you can help me with Celeste. I think I did something wrong and upset her. We had a little girl time today which was great, and then… I don’t know. I must have done something wrong, I can’t think what. For a minute there, I thought she was going to cry. I feel terrible, and I’m worried she’s mad at me. I hope she is all right with me being here, because your brother seems less than thrilled. I know there is something going on with Celeste and Matt won’t talk about it. I’d like to help her out, but I’m at a loss.

Oh, and you could have told me about the tricky front lock and the creaky step! I’m lucky I didn’t wake your parents up at this hour!

-Julie

 

Julie got into her pajamas and then took her laptop into bed. Two minutes ago, Finn had commented under Matt’s post: Mom used to make us take baths together. Believe me, your “zero” is nothing to brag about. Julie laughed.

Yup, Finn was online. Her email dinged.

 

Julie-

Celeste? Yeah. She’s complicated. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. I can tell that you already care about her, and I’m glad. My parents consulted some highly respected shrink who thinks that Flat Finn is a creative response to nerves about starting a new school, missing me. Stuff like that. They were advised to just wait it out and support her. She freaks out if anyone hints Flat Finn might not be the most appropriate companion.

My parents went through a ton of babysitters who were less tolerant of Flat Finn than you are, so you’re obviously doing something right. She wants you there. In fact, I got an email from her tonight saying how great you were, that you did her hair up the other day, that you cooked dinner together, etc. She sounded really happy, so that makes me happy. (Oh, did she tell you that I sent her a few pictures?) Don’t worry. It sounds like you’re doing great. The best advice I can give you is to just let Celeste do her thing. Ignore Matt. He’ll get over whatever problem he has.

Fifth step from the bottom? Sorry. I should have warned you. Slipped my mind. And the lock? You got the knob turn/key jiggle maneuver down already? Impressive. That one took me years to perfect. What were you doing out so late? Were you sneaking home late from a hot date already? In Boston only a few days, and you’ve already snagged a man. Celeste said you’re a romantic. Hope he took you to dinner and the opera before returning you home so late. J

-Finn

 

Finn-

Yes, incredibly hot date tonight. I’ve only been in town a few days, and I’ve already snagged a native Bostonian, whom I plan on totally corrupting with my college girl wiles. I refused both the four-star restaurant and the boring opera tickets, and just dragged him to a cheap motel. I came home with smeared lipstick, my hair a mess, and my shirt inside out. How’s that for romance, baby!

Or, I just went to a party on campus, chatted for a few hours, and came home alone. You decide.

OK, I’ll try not to screw things up with Celeste. But Flat Finn can’t just be about missing you. It’s not just the flat you that’s… well, different about her. I’m really confused. I’m missing an enormous puzzle piece here. How long have you been gone? Can you call home so Celeste could at least talk to you? And when are you coming back, BTW? Now that I’ve taken over your room, you might have to fight me for it.

I want to see pictures, too! My travel experience is limited to a selection of boring cities in Ohio, one excruciating weekend in Jacksonville to visit some senile fourth cousin of my mother’s, and a trip to Yosemite one summer where I stepped on a wasp’s nest and got bitten seven times. 

-Julie

 

Julie-

Not sure when I’ll be home. I’m really entrenched in all of this traveling business and have committed to volunteering for a number of different places. I’m going on a two-week scuba diving trip not far from here (just for fun), and then I’m off to coach kids’ football in Ghana. I lost my phone in Palau and trying to replace it when moving around so much is a nightmare. I hop on computers at volunteer headquarters, etc. when I can, but phone service is usually sketchy where I am.

Here are the pics I sent Celeste. (I do have one picture of a senile Ohio wasp, but I don’t want to make you feel nostalgic.)

I choose boring campus party.

-Finn

 

Julie checked out the three pictures he’d attached to his message. Any non-brain-dead girl would be impressed. The two photos of him standing next to an elephant were great, but the best one was a shot of Finn sitting on a boulder looking out at a sunset. Fine, it was a little corny. She didn’t care. Even though his face was shadowed, she could still see how handsome he was. The way his cheekbones caught the light, the hint of a smile on his face, his arm muscles peeking though his shirt.

Then she did what any girl would do: she Googled him. Eight-minutes of scrolling through search results and clicking on links got her nowhere, although she did learn that there was a Finn Watkins who played drums for a rather successful college band called Eggs Benedict, and that a Finneas Watkins from New Jersey had won a 2006 award for his classical ballet performance. None of the results produced any information about her Finn. Well, not her Finn, but… whatever. This was annoying. Not that Googling herself yielded any information either, but it would have been nice to find something.

She looked at the pictures again. Yes, indeed. Finn was cute. Super cute. And funny, smart, and charming. And he adored his sister. And did amazing volunteer work in between adventurous travels. And…

Julie stopped herself. This was silly. She couldn’t possibly have a crush on someone she’d only exchanged a few messages with, right? Because that would be abnormal. Insane. Completely not based in reality. She was not that desperate. Besides, Boston was likely teeming with smart, adorable boys. Not that having a boyfriend was really a priority, but it wouldn’t be awful.

And while the pictures were attractive and distracting, she hadn’t failed to notice that Finn had not answered her questions about Celeste.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

“What if the clip comes out?” Celeste squirmed as Julie fixed her hair.

“It won’t.”

“It might.”

Julie walked from behind the kitchen chair and stood in front of Celeste. “It won’t. On the off chance that it does, I can assure you that your hair will fall into gorgeous, billowing curls because of the anti-frizz serum I ran through your hair. And because you have naturally fantastic hair that most people can never achieve, even when they waste money buying celebrity-endorsed spiral curling irons on the off chance that three easy payments of nineteen-ninety-five will solve their hair woes. Just don’t touch your hair. And here’s the scarf I said would match the sweater I lent you perfectly.”

Celeste eyed the pale blue scarf suspiciously. “This is not a scarf. A scarf is thick and warm, and only needed in the winter.”

“Oh my God. Relax, kid. This scarf is just an accessory. Like earrings or a belt. It’s long and gorgeous with little shimmer to it.” Julie wrapped the scarf once around Celeste’s neck and smiled. “The color brings out your eyes. Now here, take my iPod, listen to the playlist I made you, and completely ignore Matt when he drives you to school. Then when you get out of the car, glare at him with solid disgust, and slam the door.”

“Why would I do that? I do not consider that a fitting response to his driving me to school.”

Julie sighed. “Fine, forget that last part. But at least listen to the playlist.”

Celeste scrolled through the music Julie had picked out for her. “But usually Matty and I do reasoning games and logic questions in the car. I don’t think he’ll like this. And I don’t know any of these songs.”

“Big deal. I’ll handle Matt, and you handle the Top Forty. OK, stand up and spin around Let me check you out.”

Celeste dutifully allowed Julie to assess her outfit. Matt entered the kitchen—a messenger bag across his chest and a stack of Internet printouts in his hand—as Julie was adjusting the sweater sleeves.

“Morning, Matt,” Julie said. “Celeste looks nice today, doesn’t she?”

“Morning. Celeste always looks nice.” Matt hurried past them to grab a banana from the counter. “Why is she wearing a scarf?”

Julie practically snorted. “You two are definitely related.”

Matt talked through a mouthful of fruit. “It’s not winter. We have to get moving. You ready?”

Celeste nodded and took her backpack from the floor. “Julie, are you sure this scarf is a good choice for me?”

“You are a beautiful girl, and it doesn’t really matter what you wear. I like the scarf on you, but take it off if you want. As long as you don’t borrow your brother’s T-shirts, you’ll be stunning.” Julie turned to Matt. “Don’t think that bag strap is hiding your shirt from me. I can still read it.” Today’s T-shirt said: ME: like you, only better. “You’re straight out of GQ, Matt.”

“I do my best. Come on, Celeste. Julie, do you want a ride? I just have to run a few errands after I drop her off, and then I’ll be back for a few hours before I have to be at school.”

“No thanks. I have to leave in a few minutes for class, and I don’t mind walking to the T.”

“Bye, Julie. Thanks for the scarf. I guess. And my hair.” Celeste followed Matt out of the room.

“And the music. Don’t forget to listen to the music!” Julie called after her. “I’ll see you after school!”

Julie sat down at the kitchen table and sipped her coffee while she went over her schedule for the week.

“Hello,” Roger said as he came into the room. “Oh, you made coffee? Wonderful. I’ll make a cup for Erin. We’re both biking to work today, and we have these delightful cup holders that fit right on the handlebars.”

“It’s a beautiful day for a ride,” Julie said. And it was. The humidity had vanished over the weekend, and the temperature had dropped to a comfortable seventy-five degrees. 

“What do you have there?” Roger asked, as he filled two stainless travel cups. “Is that your course schedule?”

Julie nodded. “Yeah. First day of classes today.”

Erin breezed past her, clad in dark pants and a short-sleeve dress shirt, her outfit completed by a bike helmet and riding gloves. “What’s on the educational agenda for today?”

“Applied Calculus and then Intro to Psych,” Julie said. “Those are both Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes. I’ll be home with plenty of time to get Celeste, though, so don’t worry.”

“Applied Calculus, huh? Didn’t you do that in high school?” Erin asked.

“I took an AP calc class, and this seems to be the next step. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have Intro to Eighteenth Century Literature and then Economics of Poverty in the U.S.”

Erin adjusted her bike helmet and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. “That’s a good first-semester schedule you’ve chosen. Roger, are we set?”

“We are. Don’t forget that I have my final pre-trip meeting tonight, so I won’t be home until late. Julie, hope your first day of classes goes well.” He patted her shoulder as he walked past her. “I’ll grab my gear and meet you out front, Erin.”

“I don’t know what time Matt will be back from school. If he isn’t home by six, would you order dinner for us from the Bulgarian restaurant? The menu is by the phone, and they have our credit card on file.” Erin tucked a strand of hair under her helmet. “Enjoy yourself, college girl.” Erin turned to leave and then stopped. “I hope this isn’t an awkward question, Julie, but do you have money for your textbooks? I know how overpriced they can be.”

“I just got my financial-aid check, and since I’m not paying rent now, I should be fine.”

“Don’t be shy about letting me know if you need help with anything.”

Julie could think of a number of non-financial things that she’d like help with. Gee, would you like to tell me why the hell your teenage daughter is glued at the hip to a cardboard brother, has no friends, barely leaves the house, and is a complete social misfit? Huh?  But considering she didn’t want to disrupt her happy housing arrangement, and the fact that Matt has specifically told her not to bring this up with Erin and Roger, she kept her mouth shut. “I can’t think of anything.”

“I’m serious, Julie. I don’t want you to go without whatever school materials you need. Ask if you need help.” She turned to the front door and charged forward. “I’m coming, Roger! You might as well get a head start, since I’m going to beat you anyway!”

Julie laughed and reached for The New York Times. She was a bit surprised that she wasn’t more nervous for her first day of classes. Eager, yes, but not the least bit nervous. She was finally where she wanted to be.

 

**********

 

Julie glared at the test in front of her. Fine, now she was nervous. She hadn’t taken a test since last spring, and she hadn’t even thought about anything calculus-related in months, but within three seconds of stepping into her class the professor had informed Julie that she might be able to skip Applied Calculus and transfer into Multivariable Calculus.

My, my! It was hard to think of anything more appealing.

Julie surmised that she must have just been radiating derivatives and explicit functions, because she certainly hadn’t requested the opportunity to place out. The only reason she’d signed up for calculus was to get her math requirement out of the way as early as possible, because who the hell wanted to be stuck cramming a last-minute math course into her senior year?

Julie crossed her legs and started on the placement test. She was alone in a classroom with a teaching assistant, who was presumably sitting with her to make sure she didn’t frantically call some math-geek hotline. Or Matt. But as she moved through the test, it turned out that she didn’t really need any help. Yes, a few of the questions were beyond her, but a lot of the material she knew either from her AP high school class or because she just… knew it somehow.

When she was done, the T.A. took her paper. “I’ll score this and have the professor call you later today to give you the results. If you’ve passed, Multivariable Calc meets at the same time, so you’ll have an easy transfer.”

“That’s excellent! I can’t wait,” Julie said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. She wondered briefly if she could refuse to make the transfer if she passed, but that seemed lame. Even if she wasn’t aching to devote her life to vector fields, she couldn’t justify taking the easy way out.

Intro to Psych proved to be fun, and Dana was in this class with her.  The professor, Dr. Cooley, was wildly enthusiastic about the field and even handed out copies of Freudian slip cartoons along with the lengthy syllabus.

Dr. Cooley erased the white board and addressed the class. “I know this is a big group, and I don’t want anyone to get lost. You have all my contact information and my office hours. Use them. I want to hear from you. I want to help you.” He turned and set his hands on his hips. “I like teaching, and I like students, and I want to learn from you as much as you want to learn from me.”

When class was over, Julie and Dana filed out of the large lecture hall. “I can’t stand these huge classes,” Dana growled. “These stupid required courses are always so congested. I can’t wait until I’m in Evolutionary Psych with, like, five other students.”

“You’re going to be a psychology major?” Julie asked.

Dana smoothed down her already immaculate straight bangs and wiped non-existent mascara smudges from under her eyes. “I’ve known for years. Both my parents are shrinks, too. Whitney has a really good program, and Dr. Cooley is highly regarded in the field.” She glanced at her watch. “Damn. I was supposed to meet Jamie at the student union for coffee ten minutes ago. I forgot how long this class was. You want to come?”

“I’d love to, but I have to get home, get the car, and pick up Celeste. Rain check?”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Dana buttoned her blazer with one hand and adjusted her stack of folders with the other. “Call me later.”

By the time Julie made it home, changed clothes, and packed Flat Finn into the car, she was running a few minutes late to get Celeste. She sat at a stoplight and swore. The gas tank was nearly empty. Dangerously empty. The only gas station she knew was in the opposite direction, and it seemed to make more sense to go there than to hope she passed one before she totally ran out. Pulling an illegal U-turn seemed a good way to christen herself into the world of Boston driving. She gunned the car down the road, swearing at every stop light, and peeled into the gas station.

As Julie jabbed the nozzle into the gas tank, she simultaneously sulked and panicked: it was the first day of her official Celeste duties, and she was already screwing up. Celeste didn’t seem like the typical kid who wouldn’t give a damn if Julie were late. Not that Julie could guess how Celeste would react to a shift in schedule, but she wasn’t dying to find out. She tapped her foot anxiously as the numbers rolled over in the pump. Had she selected the slowest possible pump in the entire country? Obviously. Come on, come on, she pleaded silently. The gas seemed to be trickling into the car, microscopic drop by microscopic drop. Who leaves the goddamn gas tank empty? After what felt like an endless wait, she had managed to drip a few gallons of gas into the car.

She got back into the car and fumbled with the keys. Why was she so shaky? Celeste would be fine. There wasn’t anything to be done about being late, and no one to blame. Except Flat Finn.

“I was warned about your frequent failure to refill the tank!” she hollered. “Not only that, but you’re so inflexible. And I don’t mean disciplined. I mean literally inflexible. It takes way too long to get you into the car, and you don’t help out in the least. I don’t want to hear any complaints about how I smacked your elbow into the spare tire, OK, Flatty? Just deal with it.”

Julie flew out of the station and raced to Celeste’s school. She pulled into the pick-up lane, nearly empty now, and slammed on the brakes, causing the Volvo to squeal loudly. Celeste was nowhere to be seen. She could hear Matthew’s voice echoing loudly in her head. She’s rather regimented… You can’t promise anything. Who knew what might happen because Julie was so late? She still hadn’t identified what had upset Celeste the other night in Finn’s room, but being this late and off-schedule would surely be a bigger deal.

Julie got out of the car and rushed to the sidewalk in front of the building. “Celeste?” she called. She ran her hands through her hair as she scanned a group of girls who sat on the lawn. God, she could feel her heart racing. How ridiculous that she was panicking about being a few minutes late to give someone a ride home. A few straggling students walked past her. “Celeste!” she said more loudly. “Hey!” She grabbed a boy with spiked hair and a ripped Nine Inch Nails shirt by the sleeve. “Have you seen Celeste Watkins?”

“The loser chick with blond hair who talks weird?”

Julie narrowed her eyes and squeezed his shirt in her hand. “I’ll accept your insulting description only because I don’t have time to argue with you. So, yes, spiky boy who likely has a behavioral problem and outrageously disappointed parents, that Celeste. Where is she?”

“Sitting up there.” He nodded in the direction of the covered walkway that ran alongside the building. “But you could blow her off and hang out with us.” His friends whooped with laughter and made idiotic catcalls.

“That sounds highly entertaining. Really. I’m attracted to you in the most powerful way, but the odds that I might twist your mouthy little head off with my hands is increasing by the minute. So I’m gonna pass.” Julie released her grip on his shirt and turned away. Idiot.

She held her hand up to her eyes to block the sun as she walked away in search of Celeste, eventually finding her sitting on one of the concrete benches. Her hands were in her lap and her head hung down. This was worse than Julie thought. If Celeste were having some kind of nutty meltdown, Julie would never forgive herself.

“Celeste!” Julie waved. “Celeste!” Oh, no. Celeste wouldn’t even look at her. Julie kept walking closer. “I’m so sorry. Stupid Matt didn’t put gas in the car, so that’s why I’m late, and—”

Julie stopped, a proud smile slowly taking over her worried face. Celeste was not, in fact, collapsed in a depressive state; she was listening to Julie’s iPod. And tapping her foot. Talk about worrying needlessly.

Eventually Celeste looked up. “Oh! I’m sorry, Julie!” she screamed. “I like this playlist that you created for me!”

Julie giggled and put a finger to her lips. “Shhhh,” she said.

“Oh.” Celeste removed the earphones. “I imagine that I was talking too loudly just now, wasn’t I? I’m sorry. I had the volume at a very high level, and the world sort of disappeared.” She paused, smiling. “It was rather nice.”

“Don’t worry about it. No one is around.” Julie grabbed Celeste’s bag. “Come on. There’s a coffee shop I saw near your house that I want to check out. Big comfy chairs, weird art, mystical brews. It’ll be cool.”

Celeste stood up slowly and began to follow Julie to the car. “Perhaps you can take me home first and then visit this place yourself?”

“Nope.” Julie kept walking. “The three of us are going in.” She heard Celeste’s footsteps quicken behind her. “Yes, the three of us. There’s nothing to worry about. Move it, or you’re paying for drinks.”

“You have a very unusual approach, Julie.” Celeste caught up to her. “But I am willing to play along.”

“Good. So is Flat Finn.”

 

 

Chapter 11

Matthew Watkins “All one word” should be spelled…Oh, never mind. This joke is stupid.

Finn is God Considering taking freelance job titling potential porn movies. Working on title involving “Oh, Susannah,” and “Pie for Me.” Thoughts?

Julie Seagle Attempting to perfect tricky Boston accent, but currently sound more like Robin Williams than Matt Damon. Dammit. Success is elusive.

 

Julie leaned against the counter and looked up at Java Genius’ chalkboard menu. “I need a type of icy, frothy, coffee, chocolate concoction,” she said leadingly.

The guy behind the counter crossed his arms. “Do you mean a Frappuccino?”

Julie clicked her tongue. “Close. A little less powerful. Something more like… I don’t know….”

He sighed. “A Dunkin’ Donuts Coolatta?”

“Bingo!”

The barista set his forearms on the counter and leaned in to Julie, smiling. “We have a Mocha Heatbuster that I think you’ll like. Anything for your friend? Or friends?” The coffee guy pointed to the couch by the window, where Celeste sat upright on a couch, with Flat Finn standing next to her, facing the open room. At least nobody else was here for now, and Flat Finn could easily pass as some sort of garish advertisement for vitamin water should other people show up.

“Yes, two smoothies. A mango yogurt for him and a chocolate banana for her,” Julie said straight-faced.

He looked into Julie’s eyes, his own glistening as he tried not to smile. “Will that be it?”

“For now. One of us may need another drink in a bit. In fact, one of us may really need a drink in a bit. Those two are a lot to handle, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

“I’m used to it. We get all types in here. This is Cambridge, after all.”

Julie watched as he made their drinks. He had nice arms, and she involuntarily lowed her gaze when he turned around. Oh, my. He had a lot of nice parts. The styled black hair and green eyes didn’t hurt, either.

She reached inside her purse, but he stopped her and tipped his head toward Flat Finn. “Don’t worry about it. Your special guest entitles you to free beverages.”

Julie flinched. Goddamn Flat Finn was ruining a perfectly nice flirty exchange. “Thank you, um…?”

“Seth.”

“Seth. Thank you, Seth. I’m Julie.” She cleared her throat and tried to come up with an excuse as to why she was out for coffee with a flat boy.  Telling him that a thirteen-year-old girl needed to cart around a flat version of her brother for a mysterious reason probably wouldn’t fly so well. “I’m doing an experiment for my psych class. Recording people’s reactions to the presence of a life-sized cardboard cutout in various situations.”

“Sure you are.” He stepped back and held his hands out to the side. “In that case, how am I doing? C’mon, what’s the assessment? Am I passing?”

Julie tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to look serious. “It’s not a question of doing well or poorly. It’s just an objective collection of data.” She picked up her drink and couldn’t help grinning. “But you’re doing well so far.”

“I’m relieved,” Seth said. “Do you want help carrying those drinks? That guy you came with doesn’t look very helpful. Chivalry is dead these days, I guess.”

“He has his moments. Now doesn’t seem to be one of them. And he’s not actually my guest.”

“So, does this mean there’s any chance you’re single then?”

She winked at him. “I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that.”

“Fair enough.” 

Celeste was poised stiffly on the end of a purple velvet couch, a bustle of ficus leaves from a potted tree dangling just above her head. Seth set the chocolate banana drink on the coffee table in front of her and held the mango smoothie out. “What should I—”

“Just put that one down,” Julie advised.

“OK. Hi,” he said, as he held his hand out to Celeste. “I’m Seth.”

Celeste was breathing audibly, but she took his hand. “Celeste.”

“Mind if I sit down?”

Celeste sized him up. “I think that decision is up to Julie. You are interested in her romantically, correct?” she said robotically.

“I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that,” he said. It was his turn to wink at Julie. “But, yes, I am.”

“Let’s just let him stay. I’m sure he’ll have another customer any minute, and then we can talk about him behind his back.” Julie sat down next to Celeste and tried her drink. “As blended coffee beverages go, this one is not bad.”

“Maybe you’ll be a regular customer then?” Seth dropped into the cushy armchair in front of them. “Maybe all of you will? I would not complain if two beautiful women with a non-threatening guest wanted to stop in every day.”

Julie pretended to pout. “Celeste, I think he’s hitting on you.”

Celeste blushed nearly scarlet red and hurriedly reached for her drink. The pins in her hair had held up, and with the decent outfit on, she not only looked her age, but also looked especially pretty. “Julie,” she scolded softly, but the tone of her voice had lightened. She couldn’t hide her obvious enjoyment at being complimented.

Seth laughed and slouched over, resting his arms on his legs. “Ah, if I was only a few years younger, then definitely. As it is, I’ll have to settle for shamelessly hitting on Julie. What do you think, Celeste? Do you think she’ll go out with me?”

Normal color had returned to Celeste’s cheeks, and she looked seriously at him. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Do you work here full-time?”

 “I’m a sophomore at BU. I work here a few afternoons a week and sometimes weekends. I’m majoring in political studies,” Seth said, accepting that an interrogation had begun.

Celeste began firing off questions. “Where do you live?” “Do you have misbehaved roommates?” “Do you have any pets? Do you have any misbehaved pets?” “Are you a good driver?” and on and on.

Seth, to his credit, answered every question thoroughly and respectfully. He lived in one of the dorm rooms at Boston College and had one roommate, who was a transfer student from Nebraska and so far had not proven to be misbehaved. No pets, as the college wouldn’t allow it, but one day Seth would like to have a pot-bellied pig. He had only had one speeding ticket (forty in a thirty-mile-an-hour zone), and he paid the ticket promptly and had never had a car accident. “No accidents in Boston is a big deal, so I want extra credit for that.”

“Noted,” Celeste said.

“OK, that’s plenty.” Julie cut off the line of questioning. She couldn’t help noting the irony of Celeste assessing anyone’s emotional stability. “I think we’ve determined that Seth is not a psychotic nut.”

“He doesn’t seem to be,” Celeste agreed. “I think you should go out with him.”

Seth clapped his hands together. “Yeah? OK, I have one vote for yes. I just need one more… one more! What’s it gonna be? What’s it gonna be?”

“Sure, why not?” Julie agreed.

“Yes!” He threw his hands up in victory. “Friday night? Seven o’clock?”

“OK,” she said.

“This is going to be a real date, I assume?” Celeste asked. “You are not going to take her to a tawdry, rambunctious college party, are you?”

“No. Definitely not. I promise I will take Julie somewhere nice. Dinner and then something else respectable to-be-determined.” The front door to Java Genius swung open, and a flood of customers came in. “I have to go take care of them, but can I call you?” Seth pulled his cell from his pocket and programmed in Julie’s number. “I’m glad you both came in today. You two are much cuter than the stuffy English professor and her mother that were here before you. Julie? I’ll talk to you soon.” He returned to his job behind the counter.

Huh. Julie had a date. She smiled and put her feet up on the table. Seth was probably going to want an explanation regarding Flat Finn, but he seemed nice, and she could picture him tolerating Celeste’s issues. Julie still wasn’t quite clear on the scope of Flat Finn’s purpose. Well, at least he was an attractive enough cardboard brother.

“We could come here and do homework together in the afternoons. It’s pretty quiet here,” Julie suggested.

“It is something to consider.” Celeste rose and examined the paperback books that sat on a shelf. “Do you think you will fall in love with Seth?”

“I have no idea. I’ve known him for twenty minutes. That’s not something you know immediately. At least I don’t think so.”

“You said that you didn’t want ordinary. How do you know that he is not ordinary? Maybe he will turn out to be dull and uninspiring. Or worse, maybe he will make you adore him and then suddenly disappear and break your heart.”

“Nice positive attitude you have,” Julie said frowning. “Those are all possibilities, but I think I’ll give him a chance anyway. It’s worth the risk.”

“I do not know about that.”

Julie sunk further into the cushy couch. “I’m no expert. What the hell do I understand about boyfriends and love anyway? The only way I’m going to learn is by trying.”

“I think that is valiant of you. Fearless.” Celeste took a book of short stories from the collection and sat back down to read. “I find it a good sign that they have reading material here. This  is an inviting atmosphere.”

Julie pulled out her phone and checked her mail. “Hey, Finn wrote to us. With pictures.”

Celeste leaned over excitedly and stared at the screen. “What did he say? Quick! Where is he now?”

“It seems he’s on the scuba-diving leg of his trip. Look.” Julie angled the screen so Celeste could see the photos of Finn dressed in a full wetsuit, snorkel, mask, and air tank. He was saluting the camera in one and falling off a boat in another. The third was taken underwater, and he was surrounded by a school of fish.

 

Dear Celeste and Julie-

In a rush right now, so you both get the same message. Deal with it! You can now refer to me as Scuba Man. My new name entitles me to superhero status, so I expect both of you to give me the appropriate respect. My skills include cutting myself on barnacles, swimming at an Olympic pace to evade sharks, and collecting sand in uncomfortable places in my wet suit. Don’t be jealous; not everyone can be as powerful as I am. Future powers to be determined.

-Finn

 

Celeste beamed. “Isn’t Finn funny? I love him.”

“Does he ever call the house so you can talk to him?” Julie asked.

“No. Absolutely not,” Celeste said sharply. “I asked him not to. It makes it easier for me. I would rather just wait to speak with him in person.”

“I can understand that. And at least you have all these messages and pictures, right?”

The door to the coffeehouse opened again, and more people came in. Celeste tightened her hold on the book in her hand. “I would like to go home now,” she said. “I need to go home. Right now. Right. Now.”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” Julie stood up and went to lift Flat Finn.

“I will do it,” Celeste hissed. “I will do it.”

“A couple of contractions here and there wouldn’t kill you,” Julie muttered.

She took their drinks, while Celeste moved rigidly, picking up Flat Finn with her usual awkwardness. Julie walked ahead, past two teen boys seated with two girls at a table near the exit, calling out their orders to a friend in line. Her heart sank. They must be the reason for the sudden need to leave. Julie cringed as she held the door open and watched Celeste march stoically past them, careful not to look their way.  There was a small hope that the teens had conjured up a sane explanation for Flat Finn’s presence. The advantage of being in a major city was that there were weird things to see anywhere. For all she knew, there were cardboard boys riding the T and auditing classes at Harvard. But one of the boys looked at the cardboard Finn and tapped the girl on his left to show her. She turned her head and giggled, her eyes wide and mocking.

Celeste brushed past Julie, onto the sidewalk.

They go to school with Celeste. Julie could tell.

She turned toward Seth at the counter and waved. “Thanks for letting us borrow your display for our theater performance,” she said loudly. “We’ll return it in good condition!”

Seth looked quizzically at Julie and then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sure thing. Don’t damage it, or you won’t get your deposit back.”

Julie shut the door and caught up with Celeste. “Do you know them? Those kids?”

Celeste shrugged.

“You know them, don’t you?” Julie unlocked the car and took Flat Finn from Celeste.

“Perhaps,” she answered sharply. Celeste got into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

Julie gently positioned Flat Finn and shut the trunk. She walked slowly to the front of the car, trying to figure out what to say.

Celeste clasped her hands together. “I have to start a history paper today, so we need to get home.”

“We’re going.” The engine rolled over noisily. God, did anyone take this car in for regular maintenance?

“I have yet to determine which topic I will be doing, so we need to get home right now.”

“Jesus, Celeste, we’re going!”

Celeste scowled and retrieved Julie’s iPod from her bag. She put the earphones in and turned away.

Julie smiled. Well, that was damned normal.

 

 

Chapter 12

Matthew Watkins My visit to the O.K. Corral was… well…

Finn is God I “Facebook like” you, but I’m not IN “Facebook like” with you.

Julie Seagle A typical espresso only has 1/3 the caffeine of a regular-size cup of coffee, so all you snobs can bite me. I can out-caffeine you any day. Of course, I can’t pretend to be a giant using a non-giant’s cup, but I’ll deal.

 

Julie checked the clock in Matt’s room. She still had half an hour to kill before Seth picked her up, and she’d been hanging out in Matt’s room, hoping to distract herself before her date. So far he hadn’t been very chatty, but at least he didn’t seem to mind that she was in here pestering him. Celeste was reading The Great Gatsby aloud to Flat Finn, Erin was having dinner with colleagues, and Roger had already left for his shrimp study trip. The family was used to his frequent traveling by now, and nobody had made a fuss about his departure. Julie, however, had slipped a, “Have a good trip!” card into his briefcase. 

Just as he’d promised, Seth had called a few days after they’d met to get directions to the house. He was taking her to a restaurant downtown and then to a late showing at the Omni Theater, located in the Museum of Science.

She flopped back down on Matt’s bed and tried to pay attention to her copy of Voltaire’s Candide. It was hard to focus, knowing that Seth would be here soon. Julie had never gone out with someone on a formal date before. Not that they were actually going anywhere formal, obviously, but it felt a bit old-fashioned to have a scheduled day and time to be picked up by a boy. High school had been much more about just hanging out together. Everything then had felt so casual and relatively meaningless—based mostly on convenience. This date felt different. Seth had gone out of his way to ask her out, and Julie liked that.

She watched Matt squint seriously at his computer as though at any moment he was about to make a breakthrough discovery that would earn him the Nobel Prize for some incomprehensible scientific digital-magnetic-opti-something or other. Well, if he won, she would valiantly take him clothes-shopping so that he could attend the awards ceremony in something besides the awful shirt that he had on.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?” he said distractedly.

“Let’s discuss your choice of attire for the evening.”

Matt hit the touchpad a few times. “Really? What aspects would you like to discuss?”

“Let’s discuss how lame it is.”

“That doesn’t sound like the opening of a discussion. It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about how you feel, so I’m not sure what’s left to discuss.”

Julie rolled onto her side. “I’d like to hear the thought process you went through when selecting that shirt. Let’s face it, there are thousands of clothing options out there for you to choose from, and yet, despite many stylish shirts that could flatter you, you selected that one. So I’d like to hear what led to the purchase. Ready? Go.”

Matt backed his swivel chair from the desk and turned toward her, resting his palms on his knees. “The shirt says Geek. What’s to talk about?”

Julie looked at the print on the shirt again and groaned. “The shirt is a nice shade of blue. I’ll give you that. Otherwise I don’t think it conveys much that’s positive about you.”

“It positively conveys that I’m a geek.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“You may find my label unappealing, but it could be worse. At least I’m not a font nerd.”

“A what?”

Matt smiled. “You know. People who love fonts. There are people who go to a movie and get agitated because, while the movie is supposed to be set in 1962, the restaurant awning shown in the background of some scene is printed in Arras Bold, which wasn’t invented until 1991, so clearly the producers of this movie are insane and should be beheaded.”

Julie shook her head. “You’re totally lying. Nobody cares about that crap.”

“I’m not lying. Look.” He picked up his laptop and sat down next to Julie on the bed. “A simple search is all the proof you’ll need.” Within seconds he’d pulled up thousands of search results verifying the existence of these font nerds. “There’s even a shirt for them.”

“What does it say? I Brake for Fonts?”

“No. It just says Helvetica, which is a very well-known and well-loved font, but the T-shirt’s font is in Comic Sans, which font nerds absolutely detest.”

Julie clapped her hand to her forehead. “Wait, there are loved and unloved fonts?”

“For some people, yes. And check this out. There’s a font conference called TypeCon.” He opened a new web page. “Unfortunately the schedule for the upcoming conference isn’t up yet, but past lectures include, ‘Open Stroke Surgery: A Dissection of Letterform Bodyparts into Modular Elements for a Flexible Prototyping Base.’ Julie, you don’t want to miss this. I think you better register early so that you can get into all of the best lectures.”

She feigned looking at the web page with grave interest. “Obviously. It’s been a lifelong dream of mine to attend a font conference, and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make it this year. Thank God you reminded me in time.” Julie put a hand on his arm and looked at him seriously. “Matthew, confess now. Are you a closeted font nerd? Do you go to these conferences? I promise I won’t respect you any less if you are. OK, fine, secretly I will, but it’s better to get this off your chest and be who you are, than to live in deception. Hiding the truth will only cripple your emotional development.”

“More than it’s already crippled?”

“Yes.”

Matt frowned. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’m not a font nerd. You can email me in Papyrus, and I won’t care.”

“Fine. When you’re hard at work at school one night and you get a whining note from me about my multivariable calc homework, and I beg you for help, I don’t want to hear any complaints about my chosen font.”

“You’re taking multivariable calc? That’s great!”

She slumped back onto the bed. “No, it’s not great. The school figured out that I’d already taken calc in high school, and they made me take some test that unfortunately I passed. So now I’m stuck.”

“I’m happy to help if you need it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Her phone sounded, and she reached onto the floor to retrieve it from her purse. Seth was calling her. He was probably going to bail, and she’d be forced to discuss geek sub-genres for the rest of the night. She answered the call. “Hey, Seth.”

“Julie? I’m on your street, but all these houses are buried behind foliage, and I can’t see any street numbers.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll come outside and flag you down.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here. See you in a minute, Seth.” She hung up and got off the bed.

Matt moved back to his desk, repositioning his laptop and adjusting the lumbar support on the chair. “Where are you off to?”

Julie sighed and waved her hands across her body. “My hot outfit and excessive eye makeup didn’t indicate that I have a date tonight? Wow, we need to get you off the computer more.”

“I did notice that you look dressed up tonight,” he admitted. “Have a good time.”

“Thanks,” Julie said. “You know, Matt, I can stay home with Celeste sometimes when your parents are out so that you can have a social life. You must have friends asking you to do things. You have to hang out with them sometime.”

He shrugged. “I really don’t have time for socializing these days. Don’t worry about it. Go have fun.”

She felt bad that Matt was stuck at home with his sister. He was in college. He should be out having fun. Not that he looked like the sort that was aching to do keg stands at a frat house, but still. There might be a physics bee some Friday night, and he could return home with a nice ribbon for having spelled “coulomb” or “neutralino” correctly. Why in the world was he catering to Celeste’s bizarre needs? Why did it seem like Flat Finn governed the household? Things were really off here. Matt was a nice guy, and he deserved better. Well, it wasn’t like there was anything to do about this now. Maybe she could figure out something later.

“If he’s a monstrous date, I will call you to come rescue me. We need a code word that signals I’m in date hell.” Julie said, as she walked to the door. “Something you’ll respond to. Aha! I’ll mention some boring mathematician. So when I call and say Fibonacci, you’ll know that you have to fly out the door.”

“That’s kind of an obvious choice, but, fine.”

Julie glared at him. God, he was annoying sometimes. “Karl Gauss, then.”

“Eh, that’s all right. Again, a bit obvious.”

“Then I’ll surprise you. And I’ll make it a good one. Just you wait.”

Matt leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and smiled. “…With bated breath,” he quoted.

Julie cocked her head. “Is that the colloquial baited with an ‘i,’ or the original, insulting Shakespearean bated without?”

Matt winked. “I’ll give you the ‘i.’”

Huh. So he knew Shakespeare, too. Julie paused for a moment and then began to leave. “Bye, Matt. Maybe I’ll text you in Webdings later and give you an update on my evening.” Her heels clicked soundly on the floor as she headed down the stairs.

“Webdings one, two, or three?” Matt’s voice rang through the stairwell.

“I’ll mix and match!”

She went out the front door and down the porch steps. She looked to her left and saw headlights inching down the road. Julie waved. The car sped up a bit and then slowed in front of the Watkins’ house.

Seth pulled the car to a screeching halt and bounded out of the driver’s side. “Julie! I found you!” He rounded the car and gave her a hug.

“I’m glad you did.”

Maybe the first thing one notices on a date should not be how someone smells, but as he wrapped his arms around her, she couldn’t help but inhale. He smelled masculine. And not in a stinky, too-much-cheap-cologne way. Masculine in a hot, rugged, delicious way. She liked the feel of his arms around her and the way he hugged her warmly and confidently without being too forward. 

Seth moved away and opened the car door for her. “Not that I didn’t enjoy my drive around the back streets of Cambridge, but I hope you didn’t think I was blowing you off.”

Julie got in and buckled her seat belt. “Don’t worry about it.”

Seth shifted the car into gear. “I’m such a dork. I wrote your address down on a piece of paper, and I have the worst handwriting in the world. I wasn’t sure if I was looking for twenty-one, or seventy-one, or twenty-seven, or… Well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“You’re not a dork, but speaking of dorks,” Julie said as she turned her body toward him, “I just found out the weirdest thing. Did you know there are people who are font nerds?”

Seth grinned. “Let me guess. People who get turned on by the many exciting facets of the world of typesetting?”

“Exactly! It’s one of many unique dorky sub-genres! Or nerdy sub-genres. I’m not really sure exactly how the classification system works.”

“I’m a little scared that you know this.”

“So am I,” Julie agreed. “So am I.”

“Please don’t jump out of the moving car, but I have to tell you up front that I am not a font nerd. Or much of any nerd, really.”

“You’ve just earned another bonus point.”

“Just one?” He flashed his adorable smile as he drove them into the city.

“Fine. Five points.”

“Now you’re talking.”

 

 

 

PART TWO

 

Chapter 13

 

Julie stood on her tiptoes, desperately trying to retrieve the duffel bag from the top of the closet shelf. She finally looped a finger around the strap and pulled it down, causing it to land on her head. She hated traveling, and if the packing situation was any indicator of her trip’s success, she was not headed for a smooth flight. As if navigating an airport wasn’t enough of a hassle on the day before Thanksgiving, she was desperately trying to condense her belongings so that she wouldn’t have to check any luggage.

She would definitely be checking bags when she went to California with her father, that’s for sure. He’d sent her their itinerary a few days ago. Or rather, his secretary had forwarded it to her. Still, he was showing a huge effort by taking her on this trip. Julie could only imagine the hassle it’d been for him to take off three weeks from work for this whirlwind trip. L.A., Huntington Beach, San Diego, Santa Barbara … Julie couldn’t even remember where else! She couldn’t wait to tell her dad all about school and how well she was doing in her classes.

For this trip, she didn’t need too many outfits, but hauling her laptop and books home was a drag. How Julie was supposed to celebrate the holiday, visit with relatives and friends, finish a research paper, and study for her calculus exam was beyond her. Colleges clearly saw Thanksgiving as a working holiday.

“Knock, knock.” Erin stepped into the bedroom, and Julie again admired how poised and together she always looked. The gray tweed pencil skirt and coordinating cardigan were so streamlined and… well, classy. That was it; Erin was classy. Professional and classy. “You must be itching to get home and see your family, I imagine.”

“A little bit,” Julie agreed, as she tossed the duffel bag onto the bed. “I just have so much work to do that it’s hard to feel excited about going back to Ohio.”

Erin waved her hand. “You’ll get it done. There will be time in the airport, on the plane, and while you’re recovering from turkey overload.”

“I guess.” Julie grabbed a handful of clean socks and tossed them into the bag. “Although maybe I should have just taken a long weekend earlier in the month instead and avoided the crowds. Oh, I mean, not that I would want to infringe on your family’s holiday plans. I just meant—”

“You’d be welcome here for Thanksgiving, Julie. But I can’t imagine a day of Chinese food and Scrabble is what you’re used to. It’ll just be Matthew, Celeste, and I sitting around eating spicy tofu and debating the validity of Matthew’s plays. He tends to make up words, but we usually give him partial credit for creativity.”

“That actually sounds better than eating sweet potatoes with marshmallows and listening to my uncle retell what went down on Comedy Central the night before.”

“It does not!” Erin protested. “There’s nothing wrong with a traditional Thanksgiving. Family warts and all. I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“Is it strange not to have Roger here for the holiday?”

“Not at all. Roger takes month-long trips several times a year, so this longer trip is not surprising.” Erin crossed her arms. “And your friend Seth? What’s he doing over break?”

“He and his parents are going to Vermont to see his aunt and uncle. He left yesterday to try and avoid the traffic, and they’re coming home on Saturday for the same reason.”

“You’ve spoken highly of him. A political science major at BU, I believe, right? I’m glad you’ve made some nice connections this fall. You and your friend Dana seem to be getting close, too. It’s important to have social opportunities that get you out of the house sometimes.”

Julie smiled. Dana had become a good friend, and even though both of them were busy, they had a standing coffee date on Tuesdays that they never missed. Dana was still absolutely bewitched by Jamie, and Julie had spent many hours over the semester listening to play-by-play accounts of the progress of their rollercoaster relationship. Of course Julie talked about Seth, too, to some degree, but their status was more of the casual-dating variety than Dana and Jamie’s—which at this point was highlighted by frequent dramatic arguments followed by early morning walks of shame.  Julie felt that, for a psych major, Dana could us a bit of self-examination. Maybe Julie and Seth weren’t full of passion and mega-sparks, but there was something to be said for slow and steady.

“Goodness, Julie, are you planning on bringing all those books with you?” Erin asked.

“I have to. I need to do a paper on Carl Jung for my psychology class, and I need those as references.”

Erin squinted at the stack of books. “Those are adequate, I suppose. Julie, you should have better sources.”

“I have some online articles, too, but not enough.”

“That’s ridiculous. I can take care of that.” Erin moved to the desk and began writing on a notepad. “This is my user name and ID so that you can access Harvard’s article database. This should give you more than you need for your paper, and you’ll be able to review critical examinations of Jung’s work by others highly regarded in the field.”

“Really?” Julie walked to the desk and looked at the paper. Erin had just opened up an entire world for her. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I mean, this is a big deal. The only thing I can do through school is get into the library’s listings and reserve books.”

Erin tucked the pen behind her ear and put her hands on her hips. “Of course not. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have the best resources accessible to you. I’m surprised Whitney doesn’t have more available to you online. You might not want to thank me, though, because I guarantee that you’ll quickly get sucked into the system, going from one recommended article to another. So if your mother throws a fit because you’re glued to the computer this weekend, don’t blame me.”

Julie impulsively threw her arms around Erin and hugged her bony frame. “I will take all the blame. I cannot thank you enough.”

Erin, clearly not the hugging type, stiffened a bit, but laughed softly with surprise and patted Julie’s arm with one hand. “No need to thank me. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I admire your enthusiasm about your studies.” She stepped back, holding Julie at arm’s length. “But if you’d like to return the favor, you can convince Matt to start pushing himself the way you push yourself. Then I wouldn’t have to nag him so much.”

“He seems to work all the time, from what I’ve seen. We end up studying together a lot, and if he’s not at school then he’s on the computer working.”

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t spend a lot of time working. I’m talking about the quality of his work and his drive.” Erin narrowed her eyes. “He’s spreading himself across the board in terms of his coursework and academic interest, and it’s getting to a point in his education where he needs to narrow his focus so that he’s not floundering when he graduates. That’s how he’s going to get published one day. He’s got one chance to get this right, and I expect more from him than what I’m seeing.”

It seemed a bit of a harsh take on Matt, but Julie could understand what Erin was saying. She wanted the best for her son. Julie began pulling clothes from the dresser. “What kind of student was Finn?”

“Oh, Finn!” Erin beamed. “Finn was a very well-rounded student. Rather skilled in everything he tackled. He chose a very classic liberal arts approach to school and so studied everything from anthropology to literature to history. A real creative and dynamic boy, that one.  He was deeply involved in political campaigns when he was at Brandeis. Very socially conscious and involved. And he played rugby with a community team on the weekends. Celeste loved going to his games.”

Julie smiled. “He sounds like a very interesting person. Hopefully I’ll get to meet him soon? I know Celeste is itching for him to come home.”

“Everyone would love to see Finn again soon.”

“Maybe he and I will overlap at Christmas? He’s sure to come home sometime over the holidays.”

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Erin took a few steps toward the doorway. “Let me go call Matt and make sure he hasn’t forgotten about taking you to the airport.”

“I can take a cab, Erin. It’s fine.”

“I’d drive you myself, but the truth is that I don’t actually have my license anymore, if you can believe it. I got so caught up in the whole environmentally responsible acts of biking and walking everywhere that I never bothered to renew my license when it expired. I really do prefer it, though. I’m in better shape now than I was when I was twenty, and I’ve lost those ten pounds that I carried around for years.”

“If I didn’t have my bags to carry, then I’d feel guilty about not walking to the airport.” Julie joked. “I think it’s admirable that you’re doing what you can to reduce your carbon footprint. I hate that expression. Being politically correct seems to come with the inevitable clichés, doesn’t it? I have a quick meeting with one of my professors at school, and then I’ll just take the T to the airport. I don’t want to bother Matt.”

Erin shrugged. “If you say so. Call the house on Sunday, and let us know what time your plane will be in. You may end up dealing with delays.”

“OK, I will. Have a nice Thanksgiving, Erin. ”

“You, too. Send your mother our good wishes.”

 

**********

 

Julie set her suitcase down on the floor of the cramped office and sat in the chair across from her psychology professor’s desk. The small room could barely contain the few pieces of furniture. Folders and books covered the desk and sparse shelf area. But there was something comforting and cozy about his office, perhaps due to the gentle man who sat before her. Julie loved her psych class and hadn’t missed one yet. Dr. Cooley’s lectures were incisively smart and interesting, and delivered with genuine passion for his field. His thoughtfulness and compassion when he was presenting case studies made Julie feel sure that he would have something helpful to offer her today.  

“Thank you for meeting with me, Dr. Cooley.”

“Not a problem. Heading home, I assume?” he asked, eyeing her bag.

“Yes. Ohio. To see my mother and her side of the family. I’m sorry to be bothering you just before the holiday, but I’d like to get your perspective on something.”

“Something from class? I went over your test and paper grades earlier today, and you’re doing extremely well. Not to mention your frequent participation in class. Impressive in such a large group.” He nodded approvingly. “A lot of students prefer to take these larger lecture courses as pass/fail. You stand out.”

“Thank you. I enjoy your class a lot. But I actually need help with something else. I’m living with a family this year. The mother is a friend of my mother’s. Everyone is really nice, but…” Julie didn’t know where to start. “There is something very quirky about the daughter. I thought you might have some insight. I guess I need help.”

“Help how?”

“I’m trying to figure out the daughter. Celeste. She’s odd. Her oldest brother, Finn, is away traveling this year, and she carries a cardboard cutout of him everywhere she goes.”

“You’ve definitely piqued my curiosity,” Dr. Cooley said as he crossed his legs, “but I’d be more comfortable discussing this if you were telling me about a hypothetical family.” He looked at her pointedly, but tried not to smile.

“Hypothetically,” Julie said slowly, “the flat-brother thing might be alarming to me. And hypothetically, I’m quite worried about her. Some things seem to… I don’t know… trigger her. I just don’t know what they are.”

Julie spent the next few minutes describing Celeste’s behavior surrounding Flat Finn, her social limitations, and her general unusual personality.

 Dr. Cooley held up a hand. “Let me stop you for a minute. You’re telling me about the daughter, but I want to hear about the whole family unit. Tell me what a typical day or week is like in this house.”

“But she’s the…” Julie fumbled for the right words. “The one with the issue. Or issues. Piles of them, I’m guessing.” OK, Matt had issues too—mostly involving an obsessive need to become one with his laptop and an inability to dress in anything not revolting—but he certainly didn’t have any cardboard sidekicks. Well, at least that she knew about. “Everyone else is fine.”

“Humor me.”

He sat silently while Julie talked for twenty-five minutes about the Watkins household. She told him about Celeste’s quirky behavior and her social isolation, quite a bit about Flat Finn, Erin’s seemingly endless energy, and how Matt and Finn seemed to be polar opposites of each other.

Julie’s professor rubbed his forehead as if in disbelief. “So this family has absent parents and an absent eldest brother. Then we have the younger brother who has been forced into a parental role and is trying to be present, and probably struggling quite a bit. Lastly, a young, socially delayed teenager, attempting to manage her emotions through the creation of a substitute, tangible version of her idolized sibling?”

Shit. It sounded really nuts when he spelled it out like that.

“Yeah. That sounds about right.” Julie slumped deep into the chair. “Oh, my God.”

“Listen, I can give you a few thoughts about this family, but I’m not willing to diagnose anyone or give you any hard-and-fast answers based on this conversation. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to them. Hypothetically. However, I might be able to get you thinking about a few things.”

“I understand.”

“My first thought is that this story you’ve laid out makes me sad.”

“It doesn’t feel that sad being in that house, though.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Julie looked out the small window at the gray sky. “Because I like them?”

“They probably like you, too. But there’s something very sad here. Everyone is in coping mode. Functioning independently. Everyone has defense mechanisms working at full force. And there is a firm level of secrecy regarding … well, we don’t know what, do we?”

“Correct.”

 “They’ve set their parameters and I’m not sure you’re in the position to cross those.”

“Why is Celeste doing this? I mean, her brother is off traveling. Big deal. He has the right to, doesn’t he? He can’t live at home forever. Tons of girls her age must have older brothers who leave the house, yet they don’t react the way she has. I don’t get it. She’s got so much potential. And I think I can help Celeste.”

“Ah. You’re a fixer.”

“A what?”

“A fixer. You want to fix this for them. Why?”

“I told you. I like them. Especially Celeste. I can’t just sit around and pretend that carting around a flat brother is not hideously weird. There’s a great kid under the unusual exterior. Nobody is moving. It’s like they’re frozen, afraid to rock the boat with her.”

He nodded. “They probably are. Whatever containment strategies they’ve developed are working to some degree. At least, working in the sense that they’ve stabilized whatever they’re managing. In their eyes, things aren’t getting worse.”

Julie held his somber look. “But they will, won’t they?”

“Probably, yes. A dysfunctional system like this can’t hold up forever. At some point there will be a break.”

She felt her stomach knot up. “And then what will happen?”

“I couldn’t say. It’s not something you can plan for. Tell me your take on this girl.”

Julie tossed her hands up. “I’ve thought about all sorts of things. An adjustment disorder, separation anxiety disorder, reactive attachment disorder? Asperger’s? Something to do with seeing Finn as a parental figure? And when he left, she felt that loss more profoundly than made sense. Her defense mechanisms got out of control? She has a chemical imbalance?”

“All possibilities. What else?” Dr. Cooley sat motionless, his eyes fixed on Julie’s, waiting patiently as she struggled to find an answer herself.

Julie wriggled her toes inside her shoes, hoping to distract herself from the increasingly uncomfortable feeling that was taking over. But one thought would not be pushed aside. “Something happened?”

He nodded. “Something happened. That’s my guess. Something quite major. Something you’ve clearly been told not to address. And this flat version of Celeste’s brother is an extreme response to an incident. A trauma.”

Julie stiffened. Trauma. She didn’t like the sound of that.

 Dr. Cooley continued. “The question is, what trauma? But that’s a question that you might not get the answer to. Julie, tread lightly,” he cautioned. “This is a precarious situation and you don’t know what exactly is going on in this family system. While I admire your compassion, I can’t recommend that you take on the task of trying to tackle this.”

“I know. I feel like I’ve been wracking my brain trying to understand this kid, and I have no clue if I’m about to do something that will set her off. But when Finn comes back, this should all clear up, right?”

Dr. Cooley clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Maybe, maybe not. Whatever is causing her anxiety may manifest itself in another way. His return could prompt a significant improvement, sure, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

This was a discouraging thought.

“But think about this,” he offered, “maybe you’re missing something obvious. Don’t overanalyze what you see. I have a feeling that you’re over-thinking things. Give it some time, and the pieces of this puzzle might come together.” He laughed. “Of course, they might not. This may be a family that you never fully understand.”

“Believe me, that thought has occurred to me.”

“And what do we know?” He laughed lightly. “Maybe they’re just unusual characters. Not everyone behaves in a traditional manner.”

“It would be nice if they were just quirky, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. Unlikely, but nice. Julie, there’s another part of this story that I’m wondering about.”

Julie sighed. “What’s that?”

“You told me a lot about Matt, Finn, Erin, and Celeste.” He paused. “I haven’t heard much about the father.”

“That’s because he’s gone a lot. Traveling for work. I really like him, though. He’s gentle and soft-spoken. There’s something earnest about him. He’s very normal, but not in a boring way. Really sweet.”

“Hm,” Dr. Cooley murmured.

“What’s that mean?hat’s

“You said you were going home today. To see your mother.”

“Right. So?”

“What about your father? Will you see him, too?”

“You’re implying I have father issues?” Julie scoffed. “I don’t have father issues.”

Dr. Cooley sat silently.

“This is not about me.” Julie shook her head. “This is about a super quirky kid who needs me.”

“But why is it your job to help her? Why are you the fixer? Why are you the one who wants to put this family back together?”

“Because Celeste responds to me. I don’t know why, but she does. I can do this.”

Dr. Cooley took his glasses off and gently set them down on the table. “Who are you trying to heal?”

“Celeste.”

“Are you sure about that?”

 “Of course,” Julie said, slightly irritated. “This is not about me.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not entirely.”

Julie glanced at the clock on the desk. “I’m really sorry to cut you off, but I should leave now if I’m going to make my flight.”

“Of course.”

“I can’t thank you enough for talking to me,” she said sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a fascinating hypothetical family that you’ve told me about.” He winked. “Remember, Julie. Tread lightly.”

 

 

Chapter 14

 

Julie’s stomach churned while she watched her cousin Damian shovel marshmallow-topped yams into his mouth. She wanted to kill whomever had come up with the sickening idea of combining marshmallows with a perfectly likeable vegetable. As gross as that was, it didn’t compare to her aunt’s “salad”: Red Hot candies suspended in a green Jell-O mold, with carrot bits and canned mandarin orange slices. At least her mother’s turkey was devoid of anything offensive. That was something to be thankful for.

“Julie, why aren’t you wearing your pilgrim hat? You love the pilgrim hat!” Julie’s uncle Pete raised his voice to be heard over the table noise and pointed to his own. “It doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving if you don’t wear the hat.”

Julie scanned the fourteen family members who sat at the table in her mother’s house in Ohio. Everyone there wore either a pilgrim hat or an Indian hat that had been purchased years ago at the costume shop on Delacorte Avenue. In other years, Julie had found this tradition amusing, but today the absurdity and idiocy had become undeniable. It was undignified. Not to mention the cultural offensiveness factor.

 “Consider me the rebellious relative who refuses to conform. I can’t say I’m a fan of supporting stereotypes.” Julie jabbed her fork into the heaping mound of green bean casserole. God, the canned fried onion smell alone was enough to give her indigestion for days.

“Pete, she doesn’t have to wear the hat if she doesn’t want to,” her mother said. Kate stood up and reached into the middle of the table for the cranberry sauce. The hideous white dish was painted with country houses. “My daughter is making a statement, I believe.” As she moved to sit back down, she tipped the paper turkey centerpiece to the side and into the candle flame, immediately turning the gaudy decoration into a fiery display. “Oh, hell!” Kate shrieked.

Everyone simultaneously backed their chairs up about three feet and—amid hollers to call 911 and prayers to higher powers—Uncle Pete upended his water glass on the flames. “No harm, no foul,” he chortled. “Get it? Fowl? Turkey joke.”

Julie patted her napkin on the table with one hand and fanned the smoke away with the other. She sighed and sat back down, pinning herself once again between her cousin Damian and her mother’s sister, Erika.

“So, Julie,” Erika started, “how is school going? Do you love Boston?”

“I do love Boston. It snowed for the first time a few weeks ago and the city looks even more beautiful at night.”

“Eh, Boston,” Uncle Pete growled. “I went there once. Dirty city with a bunch of bums hanging all around the Common. It’s not that hard not to be homeless.”

Julie gripped her fork and considered the pros and cons of stabbing her uncle’s hand. Had he always been such a dumb jerk? “I’m sure my Economics of Poverty professor would disagree with you.”

“Economics of Poverty? What the hell is that? What’s to teach? If you don’t have any money, there’s no economics to talk about.” Her uncle dropped his fork and looked at Julie’s mother. “Are you actually paying money for your daughter to take a class on being poor?”

Her mother squirmed uncomfortably. “I doubt the class is just about—”

“The class is about exploring and analyzing poverty and understanding the effects of poverty and discrimination on different populations,” Julie explained through clenched teeth. “Currently we’re looking critically at different public policies that attempt to combat the cycle of poverty.”

“You want to end poverty? Get a job like the rest of us. There. Class dismissed.”

“What about the working poor? It’s a little more complicated than that,” Julie practically snorted.

“No, missy, it’s not. Now, we’re not rich or anything, but we work hard and pay our bills. You don’t need some college class to know that poor people bring it on themselves.” Pete’s face had started to turn red with anger. “And these government handouts you’re talking about? Another excuse for these lazy people to sit on their asses and collect cash.”

“So when you lost your job two years ago and tracked down my father for fifteen hundred dollars, he should have told you to suck it up and get a job, the wretched economy be damned?” Julie shook her head and stood up. “Have you even paid him back now that you’re employed again?”

“Julie, sit down!” Kate ordered.

Pete’s face was now scarlet, and the vein next to his eye throbbed disgustingly. “Your father doesn’t give a rat’s ass about that money, and you know it! He also doesn’t give a rat’s ass about—”

“Shut your mouth!” Julie hissed. “Don’t you dare.” She stepped away from the table. “While you’re busy ignoring the systemic, social, cultural, educational, and political contributions to poverty, I have a paper on ignorant, bigoted creeps to finish writing.” Julie walked angrily out of the room, up the stairs, and into her old bedroom.

She shut the door and blocked out most of the dinner-table chaos. She didn’t care in the least that the cousins and uncles and aunts were probably tearing her apart right now. They revolted her even more than the slew of tacky Thanksgiving decorations that her mother had strewn throughout the house.

She sat at her old desk and logged on to the article database that Erin had given her access to. Julie was about to write the best damn term paper on “the collapse of the housing market as it related to an increase in suburban poverty.”

So there.

 

 

Chapter 15

Matthew Watkins At the first Thanksgiving, one of the bloodiest battles ensued when it was discovered that the deliveryman forgot to bring extra duck sauce.

Finn is God is, on this enchanted evening, in love with a wonderful guy.

Julie Seagle Going to write a book called, “Binge, Screw, Loathe.” It will be about a hateful woman who travels across the U.S. visiting all-you-can-eat brothels.

 

Julie giggled at Finn’s reference to the musical South Pacific. She knew where he was now.

It was the Friday night of Thanksgiving break, and Julie was itching to get back to Boston and end the torture that this trip had become. She hadn’t bothered to return any of her friends’ phone calls and even had her mom tell callers that she hadn’t come home for the break. Since the scene on Thursday, she’d pretty much been holed up in her bedroom working, and except for one snarly conversation about her lousy attitude, her mother had left her alone. She had nearly finished her paper on poverty and took a break from spell-checking to go online.

 Her email held twenty-some messages from friends in Ohio wondering why she wasn’t home; there was nothing worse than missing the most badass party at Jacob O’Malley’s tonight! Whatever. Nothing from Seth, but his parents had decided that the holiday weekend in Vermont was going to be technology-free.

 She and Celeste had taken to studying at the coffeehouse after school once a week, and Seth had proved to be completely unfazed by Flat Finn’s presence. He was an all-around good guy: smart, funny, a hard worker, sweet to Julie, and patient. Between classes, homework, Seth’s job, and Julie’s long days with Celeste, it’d been hard to get together alone more than once a week, if that. So their relationship was on a slower track than normal. While most of Julie’s friends from school spent nearly every night with their boyfriends in the dorms, Julie and Seth were taking it slow. Being responsible. Smart. Methodical.

But Julie thought that was a good thing. They held hands and messed around a little in his car, and Julie wasn’t rushing into anything else. So far Seth had understood. Not that he wasn’t a good kisser, because he was. And not that Julie didn’t have raging hormones, because she did. She just wasn’t in a huge rush.

A lot of Julie’s time was eaten up by the exorbitant amount of schoolwork that she had. She was killing herself to keep up, and it was paying off with excellent grades. Even her calculus class was going better than she’d hoped, and Matt had helped her out more than a few times whenever she’d needed it. For someone so intellectually smug, he was a surprisingly good teacher, and they often studied together at night. So far she hadn’t found any opportunity to help him out with anything, of course, but one could hold out hope that there might be an occasion where Matt got stumped.

Julie wasn’t holding her breath on that one.

She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. It was only ten o’clock, but she was worn out. This trip home had hardly been energizing. She deleted a few more messages and then saw that there was one from Finn. Julie and Finn had been in touch regularly over the past few months. In fact, she checked her email more often than she liked to admit. He liked receiving her updates on Celeste, and she liked all the cool pictures from his travels.

She read his email because she was fairly confident that Finn was not going to invite her to an annoying party, make her wear a holiday outfit, or proselytize about why those in poverty deserve what they got.

 

Julie-

Hope your trip home is going well?  I’m in the Cook Islands. Fan-freakin’-tastic here!

Wanted to give you a heads up: I heard that Flat Finn sustained an injury the other day. Nothing major, though. Something to do with Matt, a steaming iron, and maniacal shouts of, “There are no wrinkles allowed in this house! You may be flat, but you’re not smooth enough yet for this family!” From all reports, Matt Dearest had an alarming, fortunately temporary, reaction to the traditional Thanksgiving moo shu pork. Celeste bonked him over the head with an LL Bean umbrella, and he returned to his normal state. I think she should’ve hit him again, but that’s just my opinion.

-Finn

 

Clearly the Watkins household was falling apart in her absence.

 

Finn-

Ohio is… not that great actually. Family members are driving me crazy. Thanksgiving was a nightmare. I spent twenty minutes listening to my oldest cousin reenact some stand-up comedian’s routine from Comedy Central (not funny and poor delivery), tried to get my aunt interested in what I was reading in my Eng. Class (failure level=high), observed a paper turkey go up in flames (an appropriate holiday sign regarding good taste), and verbally abused my offensive uncle (well-deserved) in an explosive scene that will live on in memory for years to come.

 Can’t wait to get back to Boston for a million reasons. Need to return to normal. Will assess damage to Flat Finn and berate Matt for his outburst.

How are the Cook Islands? The South Pacific must be amazing. Any chance you’re awake now? I need someone normal to chat with. I don’t know what time it is there…

-Julie

 

Two minutes later, she heard back.

 

Julie-

I’m up. I’m five hours earlier than you are. Turn on FB chat! 

-Finn

 

Oh. By chat she hadn’t actually meant chat, as in instant message chat. She hadn’t felt like IMing with anyone in ages. Not only did she now feel so far removed from her old life, but also she loathed all the IM and texting abbreviations and acronyms. She was a snob like that and knew she fell into the minority of people her age. How was she supposed to know that DQMOT meant Don’t quote me on this? And that crap like CUL8ER? Blech. It was all so cutesy and corny. B4N? Seriously, just say goodbye like a normal person. OK, true she used the occasional LOL and WTF, but trying to translate an entire sentence that had been abbreviated into a few letters was more than she wanted to deal with. Julie suspected that billions of brain cells were being killed each hour as people shortened language into indecipherable code. As much as she loved technology, this sort of lingo was one of her top pet peeves. And now she was about to do it again with Finn. She’d probably have to pull up some online dictionary to translate this conversation, but she went on to Facebook’s chat anyway.

Julie Seagle
Hey!

Finn is God
Hey, back!

 

And then she panicked. Well, this had been a dumb idea. Why had she said chat? What was she supposed to say now? It’s not like she actually knew Finn, and here she’d gone ahead without thinking and agreed to this. And she couldn’t very well back out now.

 

Finn is God

I am concerned about that last email. You’re quantifying me as “normal”?

 

Julie Seagle

Only in comparison to my relatives.

 

Finn is God

Huge relief. Less pressure to behave now.

 

Julie Seagle

Go nuts. You can’t possibly be that bad.

 

Finn is God

Just wait…!