I’m pretty useless today.
Being at school the day after my evening with Henry is really just an exercise in finding new ways to pretend to be paying attention. I’m not exactly nailing it.
“Mr. Ludecker, I can hear you.”
“Sorry, Mr. Q.”
Jeremy turns to face me and mouths something. I shrug. He mouths again. Nothing. He writes on the edge of his drawing paper, You have to do this for me! I shake my head no. Jeremy rolls his eyes.
“Evan, can I see you for a minute?”
“Sorry, man.” Jeremy actually looks genuinely sorry.
I walk over to Mr. Quinones. “Do you have anything for me now?” he asks.
I’ve been hoping he’d forget about it. “I know I’ve asked for an extension . . .”
“Are you still interested in the internship?”
I don’t know how to answer.
“Your work from class is good; I was hoping to—”
I look at the floor and say, “It’s not a good idea. The internship isn’t really for me.”
Blank. Just an empty stare back that makes Mr. Q’s face look like someone shut him off.
Hoping to make this better, I offer, “Maybe once I graduate. If the program is still available and art is something I—”
“You’re not interested?” I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Evan”—the switch is back on—“you don’t have to do this. Any of it. All this stuff, art and—it’s your decision. The internship isn’t a commitment for life. I think it’s a good way to figure out what you don’t want.”
He’s right. Every choice, every decision seems so important to me. Maybe it could feel good to take on something, make a choice, as if it’s okay for it not to be perfect. I nod and say, “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.”
I stand in line to get my lunch and notice Henry and Jeremy already sitting down. Henry smiles and Jeremy motions me over. I nod and wave, trying to seem ordinary, just in case anyone is staring and can tell just by looking at me that I’ve changed. That Henry and I are different.
Lunchtime isn’t always a welcome break for me. The cafeteria is a social place, and stories get shared and rumors are born. Keeping a low profile has been a fairly good strategy, but the last few months I’ve had a bit more attention than I’m comfortable with. And after the very, very recent events, I’m super nervous about not just my worlds colliding but my whole universe getting incredibly messy.
As I set my tray down on the table, Jeremy wastes no time getting the conversation started. He leans in to Henry, who’s seated across from him, and says, “Be prepared, Kimball. Panos is going to be hanging out with artsy types in the city and maybe he’ll finally get laid.” Jeremy looks back at me. “Just be careful or you may be getting sexed up by the Mr. Qs of the world.”
Tommy Goliski walks up at that exact moment and says, “What’s this?” He’s accompanied by his usual underlings as well as Ali.
Ali smirks at Henry. “Hi, Henry.”
“Hi, Ali.”
“Hey, Evan. So how is your sex life?” Tommy wraps his arm around Ali’s waist. I struggle to keep my composure. “I’m wondering, does Mr. Q like it on top?”
Henry chimes in. Jaw clenched. “Let’s leave.”
“We’re not having a conversation. As in you and me.” Tommy leans in toward Henry. “I’m talking to your boyfriend, who is apparently into older men.” The underlings giggle. Literally.
I try to lighten the mood. “Hey, Tommy. Jeremy’s a moron. We can all agree on that.” I look at Jeremy. “Right?” He nods.
“No. I’m actually curious. Is there a teacher-student scandal going on?”
“Probably in my parents’ bathroom.” Ali thinks she’s being clever.
Henry’s jaw continues to tighten. “Ali, don’t.”
Tommy shoves Henry’s shoulder. “Don’t tell her what to do. Just because you’re not a real man doesn’t make it okay to talk to a girl like that.” Henry looks up and across the table at me. I covertly shake my head.
“Evan. Answer my question,” Tommy demands.
I’m still looking at Henry. “No.”
“No, you won’t answer, or no, you haven’t been laid?”
“The latter.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? ‘The latter.’ Of course you haven’t been laid when you talk like that.”
“Something going on here?” Mrs. Lynwood appears out of nowhere. Now everyone’s staring at us. “Everybody should find a seat and enjoy the pizza.” Tommy and his band of zombies shuffle along. I exhale.
“That was close.” Jeremy shoves practically a whole slice of pizza into his mouth.
“So what was Jeremy talking about?” Henry seems to be slowly calming down.
“His internship. Dude, where have you been? Mr. Q is all over it, and probably . . .” Jeremy’s spitting out pizza as he talks.
Henry wipes his face with a napkin. “Hey, you’re spraying me over here.”
“Sorry.”
I stare right at Jeremy. “Enough with the Mr. Q shit. Okay? It’s not like that. Why are you always such a grade-A fuck? You wonder why Tess was never interested? Really? You wonder?” I get up. “I have to get to class.”
“I’ll walk you.” Henry gets up too and we leave Jeremy alone at the table. Between Tommy’s aggression and Jeremy’s full-on stupid, I’m seething. I don’t look back to see what he’s doing and honestly, I don’t care.