Playing the Field (14 page)

“That’s right,” I told him, “And I didn’t
have to trip anyone.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but you might want to try
that next time.”

* * *

The next day Serena materialized at my locker
as I was getting ready for first period. I said, “Hi, Serena,” and
held my locker door as close to being shut as I could manage
without smashing parts of my body inside. Every time Serena came by
my locker, I vowed I’d straighten it so I wouldn’t have to be
embarrassed about it next time, but I always forgot.

“Hi, McKay.” She leaned against the next
locker without showing the slightest interest in the disorderly
state of mine. She also didn’t seem to notice the odd way I took my
books out of the small slit of an opening I’d created by shutting
my locker most of the way.

Serena handed me a note, and in a somber
voice said, “It’s for Tony. Rachel is breaking up with him. You
might want to, you know, sort of prepare him for the news.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Exactly how did she imagine I
was supposed to prepare him? And besides, if the last few days of
note passing hadn’t prepared him for trouble, nothing I could say
would. I was just glad this was the last note I had to play postman
with.

Then a terrible thought occurred to me. If
Serena didn’t have any notes for me to deliver, maybe she wouldn’t
stop by my locker anymore. Or worse yet, maybe because of all of
this fighting with Tony, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me.
This was a bad thought. As I pulled out my English book I said,
“We’re still studying after school at my house, right?”

“Sure.” She brushed a strand of long brown
hair back into place. “I’d better get to class.” She turned to go,
but before she left said, “Let me know how Tony takes the
news.”

I walked to English and wondered if all girls
gave such impossible requests. She wanted me to let her know how
Tony took the news? If Tony didn’t care, and I told Serena that, it
would cement both Rachel’s and Serena’s dislike for him. If Tony
was all broken up about it, and I told Serena that, Tony would be
so embarrassed he’d pound some of my internal organs out of shape.
And I’d have to let him, because I’d deserve it. You just didn’t
give out that sort of information about your best friend. So really
the only solution to this problem was for me to either avoid the
subject altogether, or make up something that wouldn’t enrage the
girls or mortify Tony. Only I didn’t know what that was.

This is where having an older brother to
confer with would have come in handy, but I was older-brotherless.
Kirk was the lucky one. By the time he got to junior high, I’d have
girls all figured out and be able to tell him what to say in any
situation. Kirk would probably be so cool he wouldn’t even have to
practice a walk. Coolness would just be second nature to him.

I trudged down the hall to my first class and
hoped I’d have some inspiration before I talked to Serena
again.

I didn’t see Tony until we were heading to
algebra class. I handed him the note. “Here,” I said. It was the
best I could do to prepare him.

He read the note then crumpled it up and
threw it into one of the hallway trash cans. “Rachel broke up with
me.” He didn’t sound very concerned about this turn of events.

“Oh?” I asked. “And what exactly is your
reaction to that?”

He shrugged. “In some ways it makes things
easier. I was afraid if I broke up with Rachel and then asked Anna
out, it might make me look, you know, mean or something. But since
Rachel broke up with me, it’s not mean of me to ask out her
friend.”

Nope, this was definitely not something I’d
tell Serena about. I could just imagine what her reaction would be
if I reported back to her how Tony took the news.

Me: He was grateful Rachel broke up with him,
because now he can ask Anna out without looking mean.

Serena(with a shocked expression because it
is suddenly clear to her that Tony and Rachel were never even
remotely close to Romeo and Juliet): He what?

Me: Yeah, and then he started humming as we
walked to algebra class.

I’d just have to think of something else to
tell Serena. “After he got the news, he was very thoughtful,” I’d
tell her, because after all, Tony must have been thinking about
something as he walked humming down the hall.

* * *

Serena never asked me how he took the news,
though. By the time school was over, Tony and Anna were walking
around in the halls together, so I guess it was apparent to
everyone he didn’t take the news very hard. While we were walking
to my house, Serena told me she wasn’t mad at Tony and Anna, she
was just extremely disappointed, and she had nothing else to say
about them. This was fine with me. I didn’t want to talk about them
either. I asked her about horses, and she told me about some
horseback riding trips she’d taken with her family in the
Superstition Mountains. “Have you ever been there?” she asked.

The Superstition Mountains were about a half
an hour drive from our house. Dad and I hiked up them at least once
a year. I knew Serena was specifically asking if I’d ever done them
on a horse but I decided to ignore this fact and answered, “Sure.
They’re great.” I’d been purposefully vague about my horse
experience since our first conversation.

When we got to my house, the first thing I
did after we walked in the door was to call, “Mom, we’re home.”

After a moment Mom appeared in the hallway.
“Hi, kids. There are some snacks in the kitchen. I’m right in the
middle of Dr. Nebonski’s chest X-ray diagnosis, so I’ll be in the
office.” She went back down the hall and I had to stifle the urge
to call after her saying, “Hey Mom, come back here. You haven’t had
a chance yet to notice how polite Serena is.”

Instead I set my stuff down on the couch. Mom
would be back later. I was sure of it. I was sure because I’d
suddenly noticed how clean the house was. Mom never cleaned the
house when Tony came over. She’d be back.

Serena sat down on the couch and pulled her
algebra book from her backpack. While she was arranging her notes,
I went into the kitchen and put some popcorn in the microwave.

I’d just got a couple of bowls down from the
cupboard when I heard Kirk come into the family room.

“Hi. You must be Kirk,” I heard Serena
say.

“Are you going to marry my brother?” he
answered.

I popped back into the family room. “Go away,
Kirk, and don’t bug us. We’re studying.”

He said, “You’re not studying, you’re
eating.”

“You still have to go away.”

He picked up my algebra notebook. “I just
want some paper to make airplanes.”

Before he could rip out any of my
assignments, I rushed over and grabbed the notebook away from him.
“Find your own paper. I’m using this.”

He stood planted to the ground and gave me
his stubborn stare. I returned his stare with my
move-right-now-or-I’ll-hurt-you stare. He still didn’t move so I
said, “Do you want me to tell Mom you’re bothering us while we’re
studying?”

He turned and stomped off in the direction of
our bedroom.

I glanced over at Serena to see if she was
upset at having her marriage plans questioned. She was smirking and
looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“It’s okay. I think he’s cute.”

Most people think Kirk is cute. None of these
people have to live with him, though.

I went back into the kitchen and brought out
the popcorn. A few pieces of it had burned because, I had been
banishing Kirk from the family room instead of watching it. I hoped
Serena didn’t mind too much.

We decided the best way to study for the test
would be to go over questions from each of the assignments to make
sure we still remembered how to work them. We were about half way
through with this when Kirk made his next appearance. He had a half
a dozen paper airplanes and took them with him behind the love seat
in the family room.

“What are you doing in here, Kirk?” I asked
him. “You’re not supposed to bother us.”

Kirk didn’t answer. He just made jet noises
and launched one of his airplanes toward us. I caught it mid air.
“Kaboom,” I said. “Your plane has been shot down.” Without even
looking at it, I wadded it up and tossed it back at the love seat.
“Now go play somewhere else.”

Kirk poked his head over the love seat.
Making even bigger jet noises, he threw two more airplanes toward
us. I caught one, crumpled it up, and hurled it back at Kirk, but
the other landed by Serena, and she picked it up gingerly.

“Come on,” I told her, “show me your best
pitching form.”

Instead of crumpling it up, she unfolded the
plane. “What is this?”

I hadn’t even bothered looking at the
airplanes, but now as she uncreased the paper I recognized my
handwriting. “Ohhh,” she said in a teasing voice, “A note from
Tony.”

At first I thought she was joking. How could
Kirk have gotten a note from Tony to make into a paper airplane?
Then it hit me with a terrible thud of realization. I’d taken notes
out of my math folder and put them in my dresser—my dresser that
Kirk thought he could dig through whenever he pleased. I reached
for the paper, but Serena held it away from me. “Oh no, you don’t.
It’s about me, and it’s just getting good.”

The thud of realization suddenly grew into a
feeling very similar to being run down by a large truck. I didn’t
remember what I’d ever written about Serena, but whatever it was, I
didn’t want her to see it. I lunged for the note again, but she
jumped off the couch.

“Give me that note,” I said.

She held onto the paper and read out loud,
“I’ve noticed she and Rachel giggle a lot when I walk by now.” She
looked up from the paper at me. “We do not.”

“Give me that paper,” I said in the most
serious voice I could manage.

Serena went on reading out loud, “She must
like you. You must like her.”

I lunged for the paper again. This time I got
it, but I could tell from the look on her face she’d read the next
part anyway. Her expression was a cross between wanting to cry and
wanting to hit me.

“You don’t like me?” she asked, but it wasn’t
really a question. “You just wanted me to help you in math?”

“No—I mean, well, I wanted you to help me
with math, but I didn’t mean, I mean—” I didn’t know what I meant,
but she didn’t give me time to explain anyway. She picked up her
books from the couch and shoved them into her backpack.

“I didn’t mean that I didn’t like you,” I
said weakly.

“Then why did you write it?” She flung her
backpack onto her shoulder.

I hadn’t thought about that note since I
wrote it. Under the spotlight of the moment, I didn’t remember what
exactly had been going on or why I had worded things that way. “I
don’t know,” I said. I looked down and saw the words I’d written on
the note, I don’t like her. I just want her to help me with my
math. “I’m sorry, Serena.”

By this time Serena was walking to my front
door. “Oh give me a break, McKay. You were just using me to help
you get a better grade in math and you know it.” She swung the
front door open, but paused before she stepped outside. “And you
know what else, suddenly I understand why you’re best friends with
Tony Manetti.” She slammed the door as she left.

I thought about going after her and trying to
explain things, trying to apologize again. But what could I say to
fix this? I stared at the front door and wished I could kick it.
This was not just a little social blunder. It was an earthquake.
How did a guy go about trying to put things back together after an
earthquake?

I needed time to come up with a really good
apology. Or I at least needed enough time that Serena would cool
off and accept a partially good apology. And I wasn’t even sure I
could come up with that. At this point I was only sure of one
thing, and that was that Kirk was responsible for this earthquake,
and therefore should suffer for it.

I walked back into the family room to face
him. He was still standing behind the love seat with a paper plane
grasped in his hand. He had no idea what had just happened, and I
could tell he wasn’t exactly sure whether he was in trouble or not.
I sent him an angry glare to clear up the matter in his little
mind. “I’ll kill you,” I said, “slowly and painfully.”

He yelled, “Mom!” and took off toward the
back of the house. I didn’t chase after him. Instead I went to our
room and started putting all of Kirk’s things out in the hallway.
I’d cleared out all of his guns, swords, and Star Wars figures
before Mom walked in. She had one hand on her hip, and one hand
holding onto Kirk’s hand. He stood as far away from me as he could
and sniffled.

“Did you tell your brother you’d tear his
legs off?” she asked.

“No, but if I had thought of it, I would
have.”

“See! See!” Kirk pointed at me wildly. “I
told you he was going to hurt me.”

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Mom said
sternly.

“Yes, I am,” I said, “because he’s ruining my
life.” I walked over to my dresser, opened the top drawer, and
pointed at the now empty space that my notes used to be in. “He got
into my stuff and made paper airplanes out of my personal, private
notes. He threw one I’d written about Serena to her, and she read
it. Now she’s mad at me, and it’s all Kirk’s fault.”

Mom looked down at Kirk. “Oh, Kirk, you
didn’t.”

Kirk had three of his fingers in his
mouth—half sucking on them, half biting down. He’s done this ever
since he was a baby whenever he gets nervous or scared.

Mom kneeled down to be on his level. “You
know you’re not allowed to get into McKay’s things.”

Kirk bit on his fingers some more and didn’t
say anything.

Usually when I see Kirk like this, I feel
sorry for him. But not this time. I picked his cowboy boots out of
the closet and dropped them into the hallway.