The Lighter Side of Life and Death Read online

  “Just humor me,” she says, and before I can say anything else she leans over and kisses me, half on the lips and half on the chin, like she hasn’t made up her mind.

  I blink incredulously, and in that moment all my manic feelings for Kat start to slip away. It shouldn’t be that easy; what can I say? It wasn’t even a real kiss but here I am sitting next to Colette in her car, my mind and body humming so hard that the reverberations could cause an earthquake. “Is that some kind of consolation prize?” I ask. My voice is husky; I can’t control it either.

  Colette eyes me with a look I can’t decipher. It gives me goose bumps down my arms, not knowing whether I’ve made her mad or what. Then her hands spring back towards the steering wheel as she says, “I’d consider myself lucky if I were you.” She flashes a smile to let me know she’s not pissed. “Good luck with the acting.”

  “Thanks.” You’d think we’re never going to see each other again, the way we’re talking, but I don’t believe that. “Good luck with law school.” I bend my head in towards my chest, whip the car door open and tread slowly up my driveway, feeling humble and amazed.

  seven

  The next morning Hugo and three of Monica Gregory’s friends are hanging off her in the GS parking lot, all of them beaming ultrabrite smiles and giving off giddy vibes. Monica’s wearing this tiny red plaid kilt that makes her legs look almost as incredible as Colette’s and whispering into Hugo’s ear. He rubs her back as he nods and I’ve just shifted my attention away from them when I hear Monica squeal my name across the parking lot.

  She motions towards me, urging me to join them. The picture all adds up to something but I don’t know what yet, only that Monica wants me to ask.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I say as I catch up to them. Their sunny group smile (except for Hugo) makes me grin automatically back. The blonde on Monica’s left leans in close to her and waits for Monica to answer me.

  “I promised myself I wasn’t going to spread this around until I knew for sure,” Monica declares, eyes sparkling. Then she impulsively grabs my hand to pull me closer still. “But you won’t tell anyone, right? Not if I say not to?”

  “My lips are sealed,” I promise. The group of us heads towards the west doors, Hugo shooting me a hard look like I’m treading on his territory. You gotta be kidding, I think to myself. Monica Gregory is equal opportunity. Besides, I’m not into her like that; Colette’s been taking up most of my mental energy since I climbed into her car last night. I didn’t imagine that half kiss or how sexy she looked in a suit. I’m still in a fever nearly twenty-four hours later.

  “Okay,” Monica says, tapping two fingers quickly to her lips like she can barely contain herself. She explains that she was at the airport with her mother last night, picking up her dad from a business trip, when this talent scout approached them and handed over her card. “My parents researched the agency when we got home and it’s one hundred percent legit.” Monica’s cheeks flush as she continues. “She thought I might be right for a lotto commercial they want to cast a teenage girl for. I mean, who knows if I’ll get it but just the idea, you know …”

  I watch Hugo’s eyes twitch as Monica squeezes my arm and loops hers affectionately around it. “That’s fantastic!” I tell her. “You scored yourself an audition.”

  “It looks that way,” Monica says happily.

  “Fantastic,” I say for the second time. “You have to let me know how that goes.” Most commercials look only marginally more emotionally challenging than all the department store catalog work I did years ago (if I had to do one more photo shoot where the entire point was sticking my hands in my pockets and staring off camera, looking like I didn’t have a care in the world, I think I’d implode) but Monica’s clearly hyped about it and I wouldn’t turn down a credit like that myself. At least being in a commercial lets you breathe—and maybe even speak—on film.

  “Thanks!” she tells me. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Our group begins to disperse as we walk through the west doors and I’m in the middle of saying goodbye to Monica when I spy Kat outside the cafeteria. She flashes me an urgent come here look but I take my time; I haven’t forgotten yesterday afternoon’s humiliation.

  “Hey, Kat,” I say finally, ambling towards her. “What’s up?”

  “This is totally depressing,” Kat declares, staring gloomily after Monica G. “Does she need everything handed to her on a silver platter?”

  Seems like Monica’s secret news isn’t so secret after all, but my promised silence on the subject stops me commenting, and anyway, I’m not sure what Kat wants me to say. I tilt my head and shrug my knapsack higher onto my shoulder.

  “Where’d you and Chris take off to yesterday?” she continues.

  “Nowhere much.” How am I supposed to see Colette again without stalking her? That’s my big concern at the moment. I need another fix. My Kat baggage vanishes without a trace whenever I’m in Colette’s vicinity. I don’t need to be Dr. Phil to realize that’s a good thing.

  “You know, I was serious about the physics assignment.” Kat gives me an earnest look, does a rapid scan of the hallway and then flicks her gaze back to me. “Sondra and I were working on it most of the night.” She runs her fingers through her bangs and adds, “This is so unfair. This Monica thing shouldn’t get to me, right? Why am I letting it get to me? It’s not that I even like Hugo anymore. I don’t even know what it is.”

  So we’re back to Monica G, okay. “It’s like she’s being rewarded for screwing you over,” I say neutrally.

  “That’s exactly what it’s like,” Kat says, wide-eyed.

  It sounds like Kat’s not over Hugo, is what it sounds like.

  “I know.” I nod and close my fingers tightly around my knapsack strap. “I gotta get to my locker, Kat. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

  “Yeah. Bye, Mason.” She looks straight at me, just like the old Kat would, just like nothing ever happened between us. That could be a good thing, I guess, except that it all comes down to Hugo. I’m not important enough to stress over long-term; he is.

  I go to homeroom and listen to the usual collection of announcements over the PA. You can hand in used cell phones, inkjet cartridges, iPods, digital cameras, laptop/notebook computers to Mr. Melesi in room 24 to help raise money for our local food bank. Students are reminded not to park in the designated staff areas in the back parking lot. If you do, expect to be towed. Attention, senior students traveling to Spain with Ms. Acosta: today’s lunchtime meeting is canceled. And so on and so on …

  On my way to English later I pass Hugo again in the hall, which reminds me that Kat’s likely having a shitty morning, and at lunch she proves it by coming over to where I’m sitting and planting her ass in the closest chair. Jamie sits on her other side, giving me this fierce déjà vu. He tries to cheer her up in this really subtle way and it works a little but when she stops talking her mouth still looks tense, like maybe she’s just pretending for him.

  It’s so familiar to hear them talk like this that next thing I know, I’m pitching in on the Distract Kat campaign, talking about the two Bs at home and how I’ve lost control over the basement because it has the only TV in the house and Brianna doesn’t seem to do anything else. Plus, the girl can’t stand me and I’m mortally afraid of Billy (the black cat), which doesn’t sound like a very frightening name but believe me, the thing is feral.

  “He can’t be that bad,” Kat says with a smile. “You should try to make friends with him.”

  “I’m not supposed to touch him,” I say with this deadpan expression. “How am I supposed to make friends with him? He doesn’t even come near me. He’s always lurking in corners, watching me like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Anyway, Brianna’s worse. She’s one of those people who make you carry the entire conversation while she sits there scowling at you like you’re being an asshole.”

  “It must be hard for her, though,” Kat says sympathetically. “She’s just moved into
your house, where she probably doesn’t feel that much at home since she’s living with the two other people that have always belonged there and she’s what? Thirteen or something? That’s such a weird age in the first place without having to fit into this whole new family.”

  “Right, but that’s not the point. You can make things easy or you can make them hard, you know?”

  Kat stares at the table like she’s thinking that over, and it feels like a conversation we would’ve had a month ago, like we’re just trying to figure things out generally, without having to watch our step. “Give her some time,” she says, that sexy hint of an accent in her voice. “There’s no way she can dislike you forever. She just doesn’t really know you yet.”

  Did I hear that right? Once I start to smile I can’t quit.

  “What?” Kat asks, a crease forming between her eyes.

  “Nothing.” I put my elbows up on the table as I look at her. “It just feels like things are finally getting back to normal with us.”

  “Normal?” Kat’s voice is tense. Her eyes hurl me a warning.

  I’ve been too deep into the conversation to realize this is something we shouldn’t be talking about so freely in front of our friends. Now I lower my voice and add, “Well, yeah, you know. It’s like you’ve been mad at me lately.”

  Suddenly I can feel Sondra’s and Michelle’s gazes on me from across the table. Jamie’s watching too, and Kat’s cheeks are turning deep pink. “Why would I be mad at you?” she demands.

  “It doesn’t make any sense to me,” I admit. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” Kat insists. “That’s crazy.”

  “I don’t get it,” Jamie cuts in, peering at the two of us. “What’s going on with you guys?”

  “Nothing,” Kat replies definitively.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say at the same time. “No big thing.” And because that seems to demand still further explanation, I tack on, “Something stupid I said.”

  Kat’s jaw has dropped and I immediately know referring to that Saturday night as “no big thing” was a critical mistake, even if I was trying to camouflage my earlier lack of discretion. The last thing I ever want to do is make her feel bad about what happened, and even with everyone watching and listening, I just can’t let that situation stand.

  “I didn’t mean ‘no big thing,’” I apologize as she stares down at the table.

  But every time I try to fix this it just makes things more wrong. Kat’s angry gaze swings back to me and I know I’ve stepped over the line again. One minute I feel like I can finally relax and the next she’s ready to tear my head off. Her entire face is red and her fingernail’s digging into her thumb. If we could turn down the cafeteria background noise you’d hear her blood boiling.

  I stop talking altogether, drum my fingers on the table and try to look harmless. Unfortunately Kat’s not having it. She jumps out of her chair and heads for the exit, Sondra and Michelle five steps behind her.

  “What did you do?” Jamie asks hotly.

  “I didn’t do anything.” Jamie’s probably never heard me sound more serious but he’s shooting me this awful look, like he’s caught me torturing his nonexistent pet rabbit.

  “She wouldn’t do that for nothing.” Jamie gestures to the exit. Seconds later a spark of recognition lights up his eyes and I’d rather skip this next part but Jamie’s already there. He slumps back in his chair, his mouth slack. “Fuck me,” he says quietly. He wraps his hands around the back of his neck and stares at me. “It was the night of the party, wasn’t it?”

  I don’t deny it. I don’t speak.

  “Holy shit,” Jamie whispers.

  “We’re not going to talk about this, Jamie,” I command. Close as the three of us are, this is between Kat and me alone. I should never have opened my mouth about it within earshot of anyone else.

  “Why am I the last to know everything?” he snaps, eyes bloodshot.

  “You’re not.” Is that why he’s mad? I thought it was because of Kat. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

  “Of course you do.” Jamie scowls. “You’d be exactly the same in my place.”

  That’s not true. I wouldn’t be happy but I’d keep my mouth shut about it.

  “Why’s she so mad at you?” Jamie continues. His face is contorted into this weird aggressive mask that gets my back up. It’s not like he had a chance with Kat; it’s not like we fucked him over somehow. “What’d you do to her?”

  It’s such a nasty accusation that I could almost hit him for it. Who does he think he’s talking to?

  “What did you do?” he repeats, and this time it’s more of a whine but my pulse is racing. The back of my neck’s twitching too and I drop my jaw and stare at him. We’ve known each other forever and I’ve never been angrier with him than I am at this exact moment.

  “You need to calm down, Jamie.” My voice has an edge to it that’d cut you clean in half. “You need to stay out of it. Whatever did or didn’t happen has nothing to do with you and you should know …” I drop to a whisper. “I’d never do anything to Kat that she didn’t want.”

  I shove my chair back and get to my feet. Jamie looks away. Meanwhile Y and Z are pretending not to notice what’s going down and I stride out of the cafeteria and along the hall, my right hand clenched into a fist. Out in the fresh air a couple guys are playing Frisbee behind the parking lot and I stand around and watch them for a couple minutes. One of the guys has taken his shoes off and I swear, he’s like a frigging Jedi Master with the Frisbee, a complete natural. It calms me down a little to see.

  I don’t want to think about what Jamie just said to me and I don’t want to replay Kat’s exit. I don’t want to do anything except stand here watching these guys play Frisbee until everything goes back to normal.

  Then this senior girl with straight black hair and punk boots stalks out and stands next to me. I don’t know her name but she squints at me and says, “You were in that school play a few weeks ago. That was you, right? The guy with the dead brother.”

  “That was me.” It’s weird but just the fact of her mentioning it makes me feel like I know her.

  “That was a pretty cool play. You were good.” She sounds surprised but I thank her anyway. Then I go back inside because I can’t concentrate on watching Frisbee with her staring at me and I’m not in the mood to talk. The feeling reminds me of yesterday with Colette and as soon as I start thinking about that I begin to feel like a different person. I don’t have to let myself get dragged into this stupid romantic triangle drama with Kat and Jamie. They can play it out without me if they want to that bad, but I want something else. The possibility gives me a rush of adrenaline that I feel all the way down to my kneecaps.

  It’s the kind of secret you want to be alone with, and after school I head straight home. The TV’s on in the basement and I jog downstairs to say hi to Brianna and Burke. Brianna’s watching that talk show The Doctors and Burke’s balancing a book on his knees while he munches away on a potato chip sandwich.

  “Hey, guys,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, Mason,” Burke says, grinning up at me. Orange crumbs are wedged up between his teeth. The chips must be barbecue or ketchup.

  Brianna doesn’t answer. Her eyes barely leave the screen.

  “Can he watch this?” I ask her. Isn’t The Doctors all breast cancer discussions, sex advice and plastic surgery?

  “We watch Yu-Gi-Oh! in the commercials,” Burke offers. Like that sounds fair.

  “He’s not watching it anyway,” Brianna says dryly, pointing to Burke’s book.

  “Yeah, I get it.” My eyebrows pull together.

  Brianna gives me this lethal look and yanks her feet up onto the couch with her. “Do you want to watch something?” she asks. “Is that what it is?”

  This time it’s me who doesn’t answer. I scratch at my knuckles and tap Burke on the shoulder. “Can I try that?”

  A single chip f
alls onto the couch as he hands over the sandwich. I take a bite, chewing noisily. “Ketchup,” I announce. “That’s not bad.”

  “Pickle is good too,” Burke tells me, and all the while Brianna’s sitting there, fuming like her head’s going to burst. It’s almost funny. I can’t even be mad at her; she’s just too obvious.

  “Don’t worry,” I say to her. “I’ll let you know when I want to watch something, Brianna.” She nods absently, refusing to tear her gaze away from the TV. “I’m going out,” I add. “Tell Nina for me.”

  Brianna nods again and I retrace my steps through the house and into the street. It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, but now that I’m going it seems preordained. Colette’s been on my mind all day long. She feels like a compulsion. A day-old compulsion that’s already gaining strength. I don’t even care if it’s crazy; I just want to catch another glimpse of her. I need something to counteract my shitty afternoon.

  I keep walking until I hit downtown Glenashton. Colette’s travel agency is just on the other side of the traffic lights but that’s not an option. She’d be surrounded by coworkers and I’d come off looking like some kind of weirdo. Instead I nip into JB, order a latte, sit by the window and hope Christopher isn’t working today.

  The latte’s cold and all but gone by five o’clock and maybe Colette doesn’t stop in every day after work like I’m counting on. The good news is that Chris isn’t around either. At ten after, I decide to stick around for another twenty minutes, and five minutes later Colette slips through the front door and walks straight past me, her high-heel shoes making a sticky, clicking noise on the tile floor.

  I could take off now and she’d never know I was here. No, she’s spotted me. She stares at me from her spot at the counter and she doesn’t like what she sees. I flash her a wave but she turns swiftly back towards the counter like she can’t make me disappear fast enough. This is the effect I have on the opposite sex these days. Why did this seem like such a genius idea an hour ago?