Diamonds: Life According to Maps | Book Two (5 page)

T
hirty-two days
.

They’d been the worst thirty-two days in history. For thirty-two days, Maps and Lane hadn’t spoken a single word to one another. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. For about half of them Lane tried to hunt him down at school or at home, but Maps had pointedly avoided him. He told his mom and dad that if Lane was at the door and they told him that he was home, he’d take up the accordion.

Benji said he was being immature, but what did Benji know? His idea of fun was hanging out with a bunch of toddlers. The freak.

So, instead of wallowing in self-pity like he wanted to do, Maps decided to conduct experiments every waking moment. It was one of the only things that helped keep his mind off Lane.

Earlier that day, before school, Maps had hidden all the cutlery throughout the house. He hid under one of the side tables in the living room with a pad and paper and waited to see how long it took his mom to find them all. He took notes, but they mostly consisted of doodles of roosters.

The week before, he’d researched how long it took for bleach to eat through one of his mom’s blouses. It took a lot longer than expected. When he revealed his exciting findings to his parents, his genius was rewarded by grounding him for three days.

Maps sat out on his front lawn atop a pile of dried leaves. He was exhausted. He’d spent the past hour watching his father rake leaves. It took a lot out of a person, watching something that boring for so long.

As he sat atop the leaf pile, Maps contemplated the workings of the universe.

“Mattie, would you stop staring at Lane’s house?” his father asked.

“I am not staring at Lane’s house. I am merely contemplating the workings of the universe. Geniuses do it all the time, Dad.”

His father sighed and stuck the pointy end of the rake into the side of the pile of leaves. Maps watched him look up into the sky.

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, Mattie,” his dad said.

“I think not.”

Maps watched his dad’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat. His face looked sweaty and his skin was all red. He walked over to Maps, opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, and then closed it again. He repeated this action about three times until Maps had little choice but to stare at his dad.

“Okay,” his dad said. He plopped down right next to him on the pile of leaves and put his arm over his son’s shoulder. And then he instantly drew his arm back. And then put it back on Maps’ shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and pulled back again. “Listen, Mattie. I know it might be hard for you to talk to me about...this because it’s different, anatomically, and physically, for two men.”

No.

No. His dad was
not
having this conversation with him.

“But if you have any questions, about your own body, or about Lane’s, or about, uh, how they’re supposed to, uh, be together, uh, physically—”

Maps shot into the air like a bottle of cola and Mentos mixed together. He shoved his fingers so deep into his ears, it almost hurt. “Oh god. Oh god. This is not happening. This is not real life.”

“Matthew,” his father said, standing up. “It’s okay, Son. It’s perfectly normal for you to have needs. Physical needs.”

Maps regretted being born with ears. They were useless, awful things. Hearing was the worst thing to ever have happened to him or any other kid his age.

He tried singing a showtune out loud to drown out his father’s voice, but it didn’t work. His father just talked louder.

“But you don’t let him pressure you if you’re not ready. Your first time should be special, and—”

Maps ran away.

Of course, because the universe hated him, Lane decided to walk right out the front door of his house just as Maps was running down the sidewalk, hands pressed tightly over his ears, screaming, “THIS IS NOT REAL LIFE!”

Maps figured if he hadn't scared Lane off completely by then, that probably did it.

E
ventually
, he ended up sitting on a swing at a park near his house. He didn’t particularly care for parks or swinging, but he figured it was the downtrodden thing to do.

Life wasn’t fair.

The weather was turning chilly, and most of the leaves that had been on the trees had found their way to the ground. Autumn colors filled the outside world with yellows, oranges, and browns.

Maps stared off into space until, likely for the first time ever, he saw Princess Madame Sprinkle walking toward him. She was wearing a winter jacket, rain boots with butterflies on them, and a purple backpack. She walked right up to him, and sat down on the swing next to his without saying a word.

Maps and Sprinkle swayed back and forth, back and forth in silence. Immediately, because of the silence, he knew something was up with Sprinkle. She never shut up.

“What’s up, Sprinkle? he asked, turning his head toward hers. She didn’t look back at him, just stared down at her shiny boots.

“I’m running away.”

Good
, was his immediate thought. And then he felt bad. A little. Not really, but a sliver. Lane would probably go crazy if Sprinkle ran away. He liked her for some reason.

“Why?” Maps asked.

“Lane is mean.”

“Did he say something to hurt your feelings? Wait, scratch that. First question: do monsters have feelings?”

She ignored his question. “He’s been mean since he got back from baseball camp. At first he didn’t play with me because he was grounded, but now he doesn’t play with me ever. He just sits in his room. Mom and Dad say that he’s sad.”

Lane had been grounded after baseball camp? Lane was never grounded. He didn’t even get grounded that time after he punched Benji’s brother in the face to defend Maps’ honor.

What could Lane have done that got him grounded?

“Why is Lane sad?” Maps asked.

Sprinkle shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s probably your fault.”

He instantly felt terrible. He didn’t want to make Lane sad. Maybe he wanted Lane to feel a little bad about dumping him like Brad dumped Jennifer, but not sad. It made his heart ache.

“I thought he didn’t like me anymore,” Maps said quietly.

“I wouldn’t.” Sprinkle said.

He ignored her. “But we tried talking and he called me his neighbor.”

“But you are the neighbor.”

“But I thought we were more than just...neighbors.”

Sprinkle thought about this. “Kimmy at school once called me her best friend and I am not her best friend and I was so mad she told people that she was because she’s a nose picker and I don’t want other kids to think I’m best friends with a nose picker.”

Shit.

Maybe Sprinkle was on to something. Maybe Maps had jumped to the worst conclusion in every scenario without ever really asking Lane. Maybe he had ruined his one and only chance with Lane and his perfectly gapped front teeth.

“Sprinkle,” Maps said, “you’re wise beyond your years.”

“I know. But you just need to grow up.”

He gawked at her. “I do not!”

“You act like a baby.”

“You know what? I’m glad you’re running away from home. Run far, far away. Join the circus.”

“Nah. I don’t want to run away any more.” Sprinkle hopped off the swing and flopped down onto the sand. She pulled her little backpack off and set it in front of her. When she unzipped it, she pulled out a stuffed, pink rabbit. “I could only fit Mr. Wiggles in my backpack. There wasn’t room for any food, and I’m hungry.”

“Don’t be a quitter, Sprinkle. No one likes a quitter.”

“I have more friends than you. You only have Benji. I like him though.”

“Boy, am I ever glad.”

Sprinkle nodded. “I am wise beyond my ears.”

“Years.”

“Years what?”

“Wise beyond your years.”

“I’m five and three quarter years.” Sprinkle held out her hands, one with all her fingers up, the other switching between three and four fingers up.

“Do you think Lane will ever give me another chance?” Maps asked.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Pft. Whatever. What do you know?” Maps folded his arms across his chest.

“More than you. And I’m only five and three quarters.”

Sprinkle put Mr. Wiggles back into her bag. She zipped it up and slung it onto her back. With one last look at Maps, she shook her head, and walked back in the direction she came.

Maps had been looked down at by a child. That was how low he sunk.

As though it were the only reasonable thing to do, he slinked down from the swing to the ground. He laid on the cool sand and stared up at the fluffy white clouds in the marble sky. He listened to the sounds of cars in the distance and birds chirping around him. The wind tossed his hair across his forehead and his warm breath made the lenses of his glasses fog up.

Maps thought he could lie there forever, or at least until he became sediment. He didn’t want to deal with these horrific problems in his life. The next thing he knew, Maps’ vision was obstructed by the sight of Benji and Perry peering down at him. He blinked again.

Benji’s dark hair hung down half over his face while Perry’s seemed immoveable by gravity, perfectly styled to his head. Perry’s diamond nose stud made Maps blink into the sunlight behind their heads.

“Hey,” Maps said with a slight nod.

“What up,” Benji replied.

“What are you doing?” Perry asked.

“Waiting for sedimentation.”

“It’s a thing he does,” Benji told Perry. Perry looked oddly at Benji and then back down at Maps.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked.

Benji nodded toward Perry, an annoyed expression on his face. “He ran into me as I was walking home from work and refused to go away until I brought him to you. He’s become my annoying shadow.”

“Oh, please,” Perry said, looking at Benji. “I asked once—nicely, I might add—and you agreed. Practically jumped at the chance to be useful.” Perry said the last part in a whisper. “For a change.”

“You asked at least four times and pulled my hair. That is not nicely. Not unless you’re an orangutan.” Benji slowly looked Perry up and down. “So, in your case, fairly nicely.”

Perry’s eyes turned into tiny little slits that Maps thought might’ve actually been able to shoot laser beams. He was just glad that look wasn’t directed at him.

He pretty good at reading people and normal social cues, and he couldn’t be completely sure, but he didn’t think that Benji and Perry liked each other very much.

“Anyway,” Perry said, looking back down at Maps. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” Maps replied. He had nothing better to do than play Twenty Questions with Perry while he waited for decomposition.

“There’s a Halloween party this weekend. Costumes, a dance, the whole thing. Most of the school is going. I was wondering if you wanted to go. With me.” Perry’s cheeks turned red and he couldn’t look Maps in the eyes. It was odd because he’d often caught Perry looking at him. He was such a weirdo.

Maps immediately rolled forward and hopped to his feet, deciding sedimentation would have to wait for another day. If most of the school was going, that meant Lane might be going, and it would be the perfect opportunity for them to talk.

He thought of Lane’s smile and his stomach flopped.

“Yes,” Maps said excitedly.

Perry’s face broke into a huge smile. “Really?”

“Yep.” Maps turned to Benji who had his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. “You hear that, Watson? We’re going to a Halloween party.”

“What?” Perry and Benji both said in unison.

“What?” Maps asked, confused. He looked between both Perry and Benji. After a few minutes, Benji’s smile became sinister as he directed it toward Perry.

“Great,” Benji said. “I can’t wait.”

Perry’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“
W
hat are you wearing
?” Perry purred.

“Uh.” Maps looked down at his clothes. “Pants and a shirt?” He didn’t know why he phrased it like a question, as though Perry would inform him otherwise.

Perry laughed on the other end of the phone. “I meant tonight to the Halloween party. What’s your costume?”

Costume. Right.

“I kind of forgot to get a costume,” Maps replied.

Perry was silent on the other end of the phone for a few beats. “How can you forget? It’s a Halloween party!”

“I had other things on my mind.”

Perry sighed. “Like Lane?”

“Basically, yes. I have to talk to him about this whole situation.”

Perry sighed again, longer this time. “Fine. I’ll pick you up and costume before I come over. We can walk to the party together.”

“Okay. And Benji.”

“And Benji what?”

“You and me and Benji can walk to the party together. He’s already here with me.”

“Hey, Perry!” Benji hollered loud enough so Perry could hear it through the phone. “I’m so looking forward to all the time we’re going to be spending together tonight. I’m going to be like your shadow. You’ll never get rid of me, Peter Pan!”

“Ugh,” Perry said into the receiver. “See you in twenty minutes.” And then he hung up.

Maps turned and looked at Benji. Benji sat on the bed, blinking his eyes. Benji’s hair was just long enough to be pulled back into a small ponytail, and he wore a fake bushy beard that matched his hair color perfectly. One eye was covered by an eye patch, and atop his shoulder sat a plush toy parrot with bulgy little eyes that Maps didn’t particularly trust.

Maps regarded Benji’s white and red striped shirt and said, “You look like one of those guys who steers a gondola.”

“Uh,” Benji said, sitting up straighter and pointing to the parrot. “I’m a pirate. Yar.”

“Pirate of the S. S. Gondola, maybe. Next stop, Baguette.”

“Okay, stop.”

“Plunder and pillage in the name of mi amore.”

“Maps.”

“Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of Tuscany’s finest red.”

“Ugh!” Benji flopped back down on Maps bed, arms extended. “Why does Perry even like you? You’re awful.”

“Why do you care who Perry likes? Also, Perry doesn’t like me.”

Benji sat back up. The parrot on his shoulder now sat backward and the eye patch he wore was flipped up. “I don’t. Also, he does.”