Playing with Matches (15 page)

26

THE FIRE

T
he next day was Tuesday. Friday I would be taking Amy to a party. I would go to a party—a
cool
party, not like the all-night Dungeons & Dragons, Monty Python, video game marathons I usually attended. And I’d be going with the prettiest girl in school. This was what I’d always dreamed of. So when I glanced in the bathroom mirror that morning, why did I look like I’d just sat on a toilet plunger?

It was just guilt, I thought as I showered. Just guilt. Melody was a good person and I’d made her sad. Just a little guilt. Not regret. Guilt.

As I lathered, rinsed, and repeated, I resolved to talk to her. Not right away. After she’d had a chance to calm down. She could spend a couple of weeks cursing me, hating me, tearing up my love letters (well, I’d actually never written her any), and realizing what an ass I really was. Maybe then she’d be willing to talk. Other guys stayed friends with their exes; why couldn’t I?

The more I thought about it, the more confident I felt. Melody’s locker was right next to mine. I’d talk to her every day. Maybe she wouldn’t listen. Maybe she’d beg me to take her back. Maybe I’d spend the rest of the school year in the doghouse. But after the summer, after she’d gone off to her scholars thing, she might hate me a little less. And lack of hate would be just like the close bond we’d enjoyed that spring.

That decided, I let my thoughts drift to Amy. Her full-body tan. The way she kept grabbing and poking at me. Her smile, her laugh, her legs. I began to think about what it would be like to take her to the party Friday night. Then, after, maybe I’d drive her out to the lock and dam….

Downstairs, the washing machine kicked on, causing my shower to turn ice-cold. All thoughts of Amy shrank away.

When I arrived at school later that morning, I was determined to begin patching things up with Melody. The first thing I’d do was go straight to her locker and wait for her. Let her know I still cared about her, still wanted to be friends. She’d probably turn and walk away, but I wouldn’t give up.

When I arrived at our locker bank, I had expected to see a girl with a burned but oddly pretty face. Instead, I found Dan, who was busy admiring the framed picture of Jeffrey Dahmer that was now hanging in Melody’s locker. I hadn’t felt so disappointed since
King Kong vs. Godzilla
had been preempted for the presidential debates.

Dan smiled his Norman Bates smile at me and flashed the devil sign with two fingers. “Leon,” he whispered.

“Dan. Um, what are you doing in Melody’s locker?”
Please, please, let him just be storing stuff there for a little bit.

“Melody asked me to swap yesterday.”

“Did she say why?” I was feeling ill, and not just because of Dan.

“Something about hating you and never wanting to see you again.” He shut his locker and made a bizarre series of hand gestures over the lock. “Oh, and she told me to give you this.”

He passed me a DVD.

“
The Care Bears Movie
?”

Dan did a double take. “Whoops, that’s mine. Here.”

He passed me the
Twilight Zone
DVD, the one I’d given Melody for her birthday.

“You didn’t take my advice, did you?” he said, sounding disappointed. “You blurted everything out the second you saw her.”

I shrugged. Dan shook his head in reproach.

I stared at the movie in my hand. I’d have to search Melody out now, instead of casually meeting on neutral turf. This was going to be hard.

“You know,” mused Dan, “I always kind of liked Melody.”

For a second, I had the horrifying thought that Dan was going to ask Melody out and I’d have to let him. But I immediately realized she’d never agree to a date with him.

“Melody’s nice,” I muttered, trying to get out of the conversation.

Dan nodded. “She’s been through
fire.
”

Most of us had always regarded Dan as an amusement, sort of like a village idiot. I wasn’t enjoying him now, however.

“Dude, that is
so
not cool!” I barked.

Dan grinned his unnerving grin again. “I don’t mean she’s been through
a
fire. I mean she’s been through
fire.
” Seeing my confused and wrathful expression, he explained further. “When something goes through fire, it’s either burned up or hardened.”

“Kinda like the cafeteria hamburgers.”

Dan shook his head. “Melody, she went through the fire when she was a kid. She went through more fire than anyone in this school. And it made her hard. It toughened her. Made her strong. I always admired that.”

I began to inch away. Dan grabbed me by the shoulder. “Then you come along. You start making her soft. Start putting out the old fire. She’s not as hard anymore.”

I remembered an old street preacher I had seen ranting on the corner in Kansas City. Dan strongly reminded me of him. “But now you’re gone,” he continued, almost in a whisper. “And she’s passed back through the fire again. She’s harder than she’s ever been. She’s almost
Unbreakable
!”

I pulled away from Dan and practically ran toward Mr. Jackson’s room. Dan hollered after me. “Your fire’s coming, Leon! The fire’s coming for
you
!”

Dan’s old locker was in the industrial arts hallway, one of the oldest wings of the school, with exposed pipes, water stains, and big metal doors. I was surprised he was willing to give up the atmosphere.

It was study hall, and I was standing by Melody’s third locker of the year, hoping she’d stop by. I couldn’t take the thought of her hating me so much. There had to be something of the friendship left.

When she found me standing there, she smiled. Not her full-force smile, but a smile all the same.

“Hi, Leon.”

“Melody.”

We stood there in silence.

“Leon, are you really going out with Amy?”

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” Wasn’t I?

Melody let out such a long sigh I expected her to deflate.

“I guess I know why, Leon. I always worried this would happen. Guys don’t ever choose the ugly girl, except in the movies. And even there, they’re not really ugly.”

Where had I heard that before?

“Melody, you’re not ugly.”

“Don’t. Please. Just answer me this: Why did you date me? Why did you make me think I was pretty and special to you?”

She said this with her eyes completely closed.

“Because you are….”

“No, I’m not. If I was, we’d still be together. So if you’re leaving me, if it’s over, just tell me why you ever made me think you cared.” Her eyes didn’t open.

“Melody, I did care. I guess…I just think we’d be better off as friends.”

She opened her eyes. “We could have been, Leon. When we started on that social studies project, I thought, ‘Hey, here’s a guy who likes hanging out with me! Here’s a guy who enjoys spending time with me!’”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing!” she suddenly screamed, looking at me with raw anger. Down the hall, someone turned on a screeching table saw. She raised her voice.

“Remember how I told you we could just be friends? Remember? But you kissed me! And kept kissing me! And tried to screw me, and I
came this close to letting you
! Why would you do that if you didn’t like me like that?”

“Because I’m a jerk.”

Melody slammed her locker, then opened it and slammed it again. “Don’t you goddamn dare! No self-pity! You got what you wanted! You got the cute girl! So do me a favor and never talk to me again! I wish I’d never met you, Leon Sanders!”

Mr. Knight stuck his head out of the shop to see what was going on. I took my cue and left.

That day, I was the one who ate alone in the library.

I lay on my bed, flipping through the previous year’s Zummer High yearbook. Year after year Mom would give me money to buy the expensive thing. Then I wouldn’t let her look at it, thanks to the filthy cartoons Johnny would always draw in the autograph section.

The guys who put out the yearbook were the biggest dorks in the school, and yet it was always a celebration of the popular kids. Huge candid pictures of Dylan, Amy, and the rest of the in crowd graced every other page. Aside from my microscopic class picture and some group shots, I wasn’t anywhere.

Even by just looking in the index, you could tell who was a Dylan and who was a Leon:

Campbell, Buttercup:
Bulldog Bugle,
National Honor Society, Christian Teens, Young Republicans

Dzyan, Dan:
Zummer Dungeons & Dragons Club

Franklin, Robert:
Track, National Honor Society, Key Club

Green, Amy:
Cheerleading, Sophomore Class Vice President, Softball, Tennis, Homecoming Court

Hennon, Melody:
National Honor Society, Youth Scholars

Janes, Samantha:
National Honor Society, Youth in Government, Young Democrats, Key Club (sec.), Students Against Drunk Driving, French Club (pres.)

Sanders, Leon:
Computer Club (VP), Key Club (sec.), Chess Club, National Honor Society, Youth in Government

Shelton, Dylan:
Football, Track, Baseball, Lacrosse, Wrestling

Thomson, James:
Football

Thomson, Jonathan:
Football

I flipped to a well-thumbed page. It was the cheerleaders’ summer fund-raising car wash. Amy stood at the forefront laughing while Cassandra flipped some soapy water at her. Amy was wearing a string bikini top. The picture was grainy and out of focus, but I’d looked at it so often the yearbook naturally opened to that page.

And now Amy wanted to go out with me. I’d have thought I would have to ask Dan about selling my soul to arrange something like that. Life would be perfect, except for one small detail.

Mom’s knock interrupted my thoughts. Though my door wasn’t locked, she knew better than to barge into her teenage son’s room unannounced.

“Come in!”

Mom was holding the cordless phone. “It’s Melody,” she said in a curious whisper.

Holy shit!
The yearbook went flying as I lunged for the phone. Mom deftly avoided being tackled.

I glared at her until she closed the door behind her.

“Melody?”

“So you didn’t even tell your mom?” She sounded resigned, like she hadn’t expected any better from me.

“Melody, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for this time. Kissing Amy, breaking up with Melody, not being honest…it was all running together.

“I was just watching Comedy Central.
Kids in the Hall
was on. Remember when we watched that?”

“Yeah.” I seriously doubted I’d ever ask Amy to view that show with me.

“That was the first time I saw you outside of school. I had so much fun. I think that’s when I started to like you.”

With one hand, I flipped open the yearbook and turned to my class’s pictures. The only evidence of Melody was her name in the
Not Pictured
note.

“Melody, what can I do to make this right?”

There was a sharp intake of breath over the line. “I was going to ask you the same thing, Leon. You know I’d do anything. It’s bad enough you dump me, but now I’m going to have to see you every day with that…girl. Every day I’m going to be reminded of how I would have done anything for you. And the one thing I couldn’t give you was the one thing you needed. I can’t be pretty, Leon. But do you really think Amy’s going to treat you as good as I did?”

“Amy treats me fine.”

“I’m sure she does.” Melody wasn’t being sarcastic. “But remember this, Leon. I loved everything about you. I think you’re amazing. And you just might find out that a girl like Amy doesn’t think like that. She’ll try to change you, and you’ll let her, and you still won’t be happy because you’ll always be trying to please her. And you never had to try to please me. All you had to do was smile at me and I was happy. But I guess it didn’t work both ways. Stupid me for thinking that.” Her voice cracked on the last word and she didn’t speak for a while. When she did, her voice trembled.

“Are you going to give up what we have? If you take me back, I won’t mention Amy again. We can go on like it didn’t happen.”

I scanned the faces of the sophomore class until I found Amy. Even though her photo was the same half-inch blur as everyone else’s, it seemed to dominate the page. I had kissed those lips, and I would again.

“I’m sorry, Melody.”

She hung up.

27

MEATLOAF WITH A SIDE OF GUILT

I
had almost convinced myself to tell Amy I couldn’t take her to the party the next day. I had to do the honorable thing and patch things up with Melody. Maybe not what I wanted to do, but it was the right thing.

Of course, if we always did what we
should
, then we wouldn’t have wars or car alarms. The second I saw Amy sitting on the edge of my lab table, I knew I was happily going to do the wrong thing. She was wearing
short
shorts, her bare thighs pressed down on the desk where I’d taken a hundred naps.

She looked up and smiled at me. “Hey, Leon. You ready for tomorrow?”

“You bet.”
Melody who?

“Great. Pick me up around seven. I think you remember the address, don’t you?” She held out her hand and allowed me to help her down from the table. There was a sweaty print where she’d been sitting.

Jimmy and Johnny stared at me, more slack-jawed than usual.

“Jesus,” said Johnny when I sat down. “I thought you were full of it. You’re really going out with her?”

I shrugged, as if Amy was just another of my many dates. For the first time since we were thirteen, the twins looked at me with something like respect. For once people were noticing me. It was a nice feeling.

I stood there in the lunch line, clutching my tray, afraid to enter the cafeteria. By now the twins had surely told Rob and Samantha that I had left Melody. What would they think? And what if Melody showed up?

An overweight guy behind me shoved me aside and I walked toward my usual table. What the hell, I didn’t owe anyone any explanations.

Samantha was engrossed in a book, oblivious of the loud argument Rob and Johnny were having about baseball.

“Hey, Leon,” said Rob as I sat down, “who’s the better pitcher, Maglio or Gonzalez?”

I had no idea who either of those people was. “Maglio, hands down,” I replied. Johnny snorted in triumph. Rob gave me a disgusted look.

I wasn’t interested. Glancing around the cafeteria, I wondered if Melody was here. Where was she sitting? I guessed she had crawled back into the hole she had lived in before we met. Back having lunch alone in the library.

“Looking for someone?” Samantha smirked at me over the top of her novel.

“No.” I reluctantly turned back to our table.

Samantha continued to stare at me. “You’re looking for Melody, aren’t you? Seeing where she’ll sit now that you ditched her.”

“No, I’m not!”

Samantha went back to her book. “Then I guess it won’t matter to you that she’s right over there.”

My head snapped around. Samantha hadn’t been lying. Head held high, eyes forward, Melody emerged from the lunch line. Even from the other side of the room, I could see the hard expression on her rough features. I remembered what Dan had told me earlier about passing through fire.

Without pausing, she strode forward. She was headed our way.

I thought back to the first time she had sat with us, just a month or so before. How she had looked at the floor, mumbled, and held her tray in front of her like a shield. That girl was long gone. Melody walked like someone who knew exactly where she was going and what she was going to do.

I felt sweaty all of a sudden. How could I face her? I never thought she’d want to sit with me after how I’d treated her. But why shouldn’t she? Samantha, Rob, and Johnny had been nice to her. What right did I have to make her give that up?

Just a few yards before she reached our table, she swiveled to her right and approached another one. Buttercup was sitting there, along with some people I didn’t know. Was Melody going to sit there? Just join a bunch of strangers?

By God she was. Leaning over the shoulder of a guy who’d given me a serious wedgie in junior high, she pointed at an empty chair and said something. The guy shrugged and Melody sat. Just like that.

“Dumped her, did you?” Rob’s snide remark turned me around. My trio of friends were watching me gaping at Melody.

“Um.” It was all I could think of to say.

Rob shook his head. “Too bad. She was really nice.”

“Too nice for Leon, that’s for sure,” Johnny said, chuckling.

“Guys, drop it,” I snapped.

Rob couldn’t resist. “Maybe I should give her a jingle.”

“Yeah, but you should call her first,” said Johnny, without missing a beat. They slapped fists.

I jumped up. “Shut the hell up, both of you!” Rob and Johnny stopped laughing. They didn’t look hurt, just a little annoyed.

Samantha sighed and closed her book. “I think I’ll go to the library,” she said, and was gone.

“What the hell’s your problem?” asked Johnny.

I ate in silence. When the bell rang at the end of the lunch period, I ventured one last look in Melody’s direction. There she sat at another table. And she was talking. How was this possible?

As I was dumping my tray, silverware and all, into the trash, Johnny walked up beside me.

“Sorry you dumped her?” he asked sincerely.

“Nah, I just kind of feel bad.”

“Don’t.” He placed his hand on my back. “She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“Dude, don’t sweat it.” Johnny smiled and we started back to class. “Hey, remember what we used to say in elementary school when you wanted to force the other kids to do something?”

“Huh?”

“You remember. Like if you thought everyone shouldn’t step on the yellow tiles. What did you say?”

“Hell if I remember.”

“Think back.
If you do that, then…
”

Suddenly, it came back to me. The little fourth graders lined up behind a teacher, whispering so they wouldn’t be heard.
“If you do that…then you like Melody.”

Johnny nodded. “If you can’t make the basket, then you like Melody. If you can’t jump the fence, you like Melody. Last one to the bus stop likes Melody.”

“Why are you bringing that up?”

“Because all her life, Melody’s been the butt of everyone’s jokes. Now look at her. She’s finally stopped thinking of herself as a punch line. You were probably the first person who ever treated her like a normal human. She’s better off because of that.”

I thought about that on the way back to class. Melody no longer needed me to tell her she wasn’t a freak. She believed it. She didn’t need me anymore.