Playing with Matches (21 page)

38

POP GOES THE DIHYDROGEN CHLORIDE

“N
ow, you’ll have to be a little careful with this bit,” intoned Mr. Jackson from the front of the class. He adjusted his safety glasses and turned his attention to a setup that looked like it had come from Wile E. Coyote’s Acme catalog. Using a Bunsen burner, he lit a wooden splint on fire. He then held the splint to a rubber tube that protruded from the jumble of glass jars on the counter. Without warning, a loud bang ripped through the classroom. Several girls yelped in surprise. Jimmy, who’d been asleep, awoke with a snort.

Mr. Jackson launched into an explanation of how the combustion of the gases released from the chemical mixture produced the noise. Though the man couldn’t teach for anything, he certainly did know his material.

Diagonally ahead, Amy and her friends giggled in surprise. Six days had passed since she’d stormed out of the Taco Barn. When I last spoke to her, I wondered how she’d treat me. Would she be snippy, cold, belligerent? No. What she did to me was far crueler.

She treated me just like she had before that time I’d eaten her cigarette. I no longer existed for her. It wasn’t that she ignored me. If she had made an effort not to notice me, at least that would have proved I was still on her mind. But now I had ceased to be. She made no point of looking away from me, not walking near me, or avoiding me. It felt like it had two months before, when I had been nothing but a piece of furniture to her. It hurt. But had I expected better?

“Okay, class,” said Mr. Jackson. “Let’s see if you can do it. Groups of two, everyone remember your goggles.”

For most chemistry labs I worked with the twins. However, after a little disaster with some sulfur compounds had cleared the science hall for two periods, Mr. Jackson insisted they never work together again. Johnny ran off to join a couple of other jocks, while Jimmy managed to wrangle his way onto Cassandra’s team. I looked around to see who’d be my partner for the last chemistry lab of the year. Amy was the only uncoupled student left, and she seemed to realize it at the same time I did.

I hoped she’d ask someone to trade partners, or tell me to find my own group, or something—anything to show we’d been more than classmates at one time. I was out of luck. Indifferently, she told me to grab the instructions and the goggles and she’d get the equipment. She might have been talking to a stranger.

Without a word we began to set up. As I linked test tubes and measured chemicals, I wondered if I should say anything. Apologize again? Ask her some generic question to start a conversation? Or just leave well enough alone? What would Bart Axelrod do?

Of course, I opened my big fat mouth. “The weather’s been nice, hasn’t it?”

“I guess. Check the seal on that tube there.”

I couldn’t believe it. I had just made a comment about the weather. Smooth. We worked another fifteen minutes in silence.

Mr. Jackson began to walk around the room with a cigarette lighter, igniting splints to see whose experiments would bang. A few loud reports echoed through the lab, but mostly there were just a few sad pops. Amy and I hurried to finish.

Johnny, whose chemicals had produced a weird whistling sound, trotted by the table as he cleaned up. “Hey, Leon,” he said as he paused by our table. “The dollar theater is showing
Bloody Monday,
Friday night only. You in?”

“Miss a chance to see Axelrod’s greatest masterpiece? I’m there.” Romantic hell or not, this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

Johnny winked and walked away. When I turned back to the experiment, I was surprised to see that Amy was wearing a rather angry expression.

“I guess you’ll be taking Melody,” she said with a hiss. Maybe the thought of my going out with friends—friends she had begun to hang out with—set her off.

“No.”

Amy wasn’t looking at me. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else behind her back?” Now that Amy was acknowledging me, I longed for her to ignore me again.

“No.” Someone’s experiment banged and I fumbled with my chemicals.

Amy was sneering. “So just going out with the guys? Then make out with her later? Or did you dump her too?”

I slapped my hand on the table. “Melody won’t talk to me, okay?”

I knew that Amy was mad at me, but I wasn’t prepared for how she responded.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone new. Just check the burn wards.”

My head snapped up. The beaker I’d been messing with slipped off the edge of the table and crashed to the floor. Someone—I thought it was Johnny—gave me a sarcastic round of applause.

For five seconds we stared at each other. Even after I’d dumped her, even after everything, I never thought Amy would make fun of
that.
There must have been something in my expression that scared Amy. Her look of mocking triumph melted rapidly away.

I stormed off to grab the oft-used broom and dustpan. I refused to look at her. That was cruel. Really, really cruel.

When I had dumped the glass shards, I found Amy staring blankly at the experiment. Neither of us spoke as we waited for Mr. Jackson and his fire. After half a minute, Amy broke the silence.

“Okay, that was a cheap shot.”

I didn’t answer.

“Leon?”

I finally looked at her. Her eyes were downcast; she looked ashamed.

“Leon, I didn’t mean that.”

I shrugged.

“But, Leon, what did you expect…” She was interrupted by our teacher, who was halfheartedly lighting whatever gases we’d managed to produce. There was a noise like an ant farting. Jackson shook his head and moved on.

I started packing up the equipment. Amy touched my arm. I pulled away.

A lot of seniors had written on their cars with white shoe polish:
GO MZH! BULLDOGS RULE! WHERE OUT OF HERE!
(That was Dylan’s.)

I sat on my hood, waiting for Rob. Just over a week till summer. I should be happy. I wanted to be happy.

I also wanted to be rich and tall. We didn’t always get what we wanted.

Except this year, I’d gotten exactly what I wanted. Twice. And somehow, I managed to dump them both for the other one and end up alone.

Only you, Leon.

“Hey, Leon!”

Amy. The first time she’d called to me in the parking lot, I’d gone running like an obedient puppy.

This time…I went running like a self-assured, macho puppy.

“Hi, Amy.” Even after her behavior in the lab, I still lacked the spine to ignore her. Amy had tried to apologize earlier. Now wasn’t the time to focus on my own wounded pride.

Amy was chewing a wad of gum. She pulled out another piece and crammed it into her mouth.

“Did you quit smoking?”

She blew a bubble. “It’s better for your health. Plus you can only cough up so much yellow phlegm before you start to think.” She offered me the pack of gum and I took a piece.

“Leon, about what I said earlier…” Her ponytail whipped in the spring wind. “I didn’t mean it.” Amy sounded truly ashamed.

I kicked my tire. “No one expects you to like Melody.”

“And I don’t,” she said severely. “But I shouldn’t have made fun of her like that.”

“Thanks.” There was a pause. “So any big plans for summer?”

She sighed. “I’m going to live with my dad in Chesterfield for a while.”

“Oh, boy.”

We both stared at each other for a second.

“Amy? Maybe when you get back, we could—”

“No! Leon, I told you—”

“Not like that!” I objected so loudly the gum flew out of my mouth and nearly hit her. “I mean, just to hang out.”

She smiled at me. “Nope. We’re not friends, Leon. I don’t hate you, but we’re not friends.”

“Yeah. Well, have fun in Chesterfield.”

“You men always ask the impossible. Have fun at Taco Barn. And Leon?”

“Yeah?”

Amy put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Melody’s a lucky girl.”

“I told you, she’s done with me.” Or was that what Amy meant?

Amy was already walking to her car. “Are you sure about that, Leon?” she called over her shoulder.

39

MONDAY, BLOODY MONDAY

S
t. Christopher Cinema, one of the great old movie palaces constructed after the Depression, had been built around 1939. It boasted thirty-foot-high ceilings, elaborate murals, an orchestra pit, and a balcony (for colored patrons). You could picture the ushers helping people to their seats, soldiers on leave feeling up their girlfriends, not a cell phone to be heard. Though most two-screen theaters shut down during the VCR revolution, St. Christopher managed to stay open by showing old movies at a buck a pop.

“I’m only going to say this once, scumwad,” said Johnny, imitating Bart Axelrod’s raspy voice. “Do you want popcorn?”

“Sure as a Smith and Wesson beats four aces,” I replied, using Axelrod’s catchphrase. Johnny and I edged into the refreshment line in St. Christopher’s ornate lobby. Surprisingly, no one—not even Jessica—had opted to join us for the screening of what was generally regarded as Axelrod’s only two-star movie,
Bloody Monday.

I was having a good time in spite of myself. True, I kept flashing back to the time I’d taken Melody to see an Axelrod movie, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I would have to move on. The last thing I wanted to do was get all teary-eyed at a bad action flick.

“Hey, Leon, is that Dan and Buttercup coming out of the theater there?”

“Damn, you’re right. What’s up with that?” I watched in sick awe as our school’s sweetest girl and most evil guy emerged from the theater hand in hand. Buttercup had mentioned something about meeting a guy. But
Dan
? This was the prince she’d been waiting for?

“Were they watching
Monday
?” asked Johnny.

I checked the schedule board. “No, some foreign film. The one with that one chick.”

“Dan went to see that? Holy crap.”

Buttercup spotted us and waved. For a second, I thought Dan was going to try to make a break for it; clearly he didn’t like being seen coming out of a movie that didn’t feature dismemberments. Realizing he was trapped, he followed his date toward us.

“John, Leon.” He gave a curt nod.

“Buttercup, Dan.” Johnny and I were grinning like idiots. “Did you enjoy your movie?”

“Well,” said Buttercup, “I liked it, but I think Dan was bored.” She pinched his cheek. She was probably the only person who could do that and not risk losing a finger.

“Next week, we rent the movie I want to,” said Dan, making it clear to us that he hadn’t been whipped.

“What’re you watching?” I asked. “
Steel Magnolias
?”

“No,” answered Buttercup, missing my jab. “Something called
Silence of the Lambs.
It sounds cute.”

I opened my mouth to warn her, but changed my mind. If she really was dating Dan, then she’d have to learn some things on her own.

Buttercup and Dan left the lobby, Dan shooting me the evil eye over his shoulder. Johnny gave his ticket to the ticket taker. I waited for a few other people to pass, then followed. Maybe that made me look like a loser who went to the movies on his own, but it sure beat looking like I was Johnny’s date.

Even though the film didn’t start for half an hour, the theater was already filling up. Pockets of rowdy movie fans sat in the plush seats. Down in front, the seventy-year-old house musician pounded away on the old organ. The audience snapped their fingers in time to the theme from
The Addams Family.
People hollered, threw things, and made out. It was great to be young.

I plopped down in an aisle seat and threw my feet up on the seat in front of me. Johnny and I inhaled popcorn as the organist played “Monster Mash.” I was about to quote some more Axelrod films when I saw something that made me choke on a kernel.

Across the wide carpeted aisle, several teenagers wrestled their way into the seats opposite mine. I recognized a few of them from our school. The girl directly on the other side of the aisle was turned away from me, but I could tell she had straight brown hair. A little too straight. I did a double take. It was definitely Melody’s wig. That meant there was a good chance Melody was under it.

The organist was now playing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” and Johnny was hollering along.

“Root, root, root for the Cardinals, if they don’t win it’s a shame…”

“Johnny, we gotta move.”

“For it’s one, two, three…huh?”

“Let’s change seats.”

“No way, man, the joint’s packed.” He saw Melody over my shoulder and quickly turned his head away.

“I see. Too late to find another place to sit. Want to change with me?”

“No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t hide from her.”

The old organist, who some said started here as an usher in the sixties, bowed to the applause of the audience. The lights dimmed.

St. Christopher also continued the great old movie tradition of showing a cartoon before the main feature. As Bugs Bunny matched wits with Yosemite Sam, I held my palm to the side of my face and thought. Should I say hi to Melody? She’d certainly acted like she never wanted to talk to me again. But hadn’t both Amy and Dan implied that maybe I still stood a chance?

I snuck another look in Melody’s direction. Her gaunt features stood out in the flickering glow of the screen. Once again, I got the impression of a skull when I saw her face in low light. The angel of death. Only now I saw more angel than death in her face. She was beautiful. Not that inner-beauty crap either. And not that she had a hot little body. I liked her face. I wanted to see her smile.

Just as the cartoon reached the surprising ending of Bugs humiliating Sam, Melody looked in my direction. Her face registered brief surprise, then lost all trace of emotion. She simply stared at me for a few seconds, like I was an acquaintance she couldn’t quite place.

“Hi,” I blurted out. She turned back toward the screen.

“Let it pass, Leon,” whispered Johnny. “She’s with people.”

Bart Axelrod exploded onto the screen in a hail of gunfire. Wearing a ponytail entirely too long for the cop he was supposed to be playing, he burst into a crack house. Facing down the drug runners, he let loose more shots from his pistol than were fired during the invasion of Normandy. “Punk,” he whispered at the last man standing. “I’m gonna be picking your brains out of my shoes for a week when I’m done with you.”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t
Citizen Kane.

I kept trying to pretend that Melody wasn’t there and enjoy the film. By the time Axelrod’s black, by-the-book, older partner was killed by the head villain, I was looking in Melody’s direction again. She noticed and pointedly looked away.

“Melody?” I called in a loud whisper. She frowned and shook her head. Several of her companions looked in my direction. I felt unreasonably jealous. She should be sitting with me, not them.

I sat staring at my lap, feeling sorry for myself, until I was interrupted by Johnny’s moronic laughter. Axelrod was wrestling with a henchman in the back of a speeding truck. The thug had him by the throat and was trying to force his face into the road as they sped along at a zillion miles an hour.

“Now there’s a stunt I’ve never seen in any other movies.”

I nodded, not really listening. My gaze fell across the aisle and I caught Melody looking at me. She instantly turned her head away.

“Melody?” I tried again.

“Leon, no!” she almost yelled. Someone behind me shushed us.

This went on for about ten more minutes. We kept glancing in each other’s direction, only to turn away when we were noticed. I felt like I was back in elementary school. It was time for action.

“Johnny,” I whispered, “I’m going in.”

“Eh?”

“I’m going to tell Melody I love her.”

“What? Since when?” The person behind us shushed us again.

“For a while now. I just didn’t realize it.”

“Obviously.”

“Wish me luck.”

“What? You can’t tell her now; we’re at the movies.”

“Then I’ll tell everyone I love her.” The idea hadn’t occurred to me until then, but it was worth a shot.

“Leon! Don’t even think about it!” A look of horror spread across Johnny’s face.

“Think Romeo and Juliet, Johnny. Think, um, Samson and Delilah.”

“Think John Hinckley,” begged Johnny. “Think restraining order.”

“Here I go.”

Johnny sighed, dumped the remains of his popcorn on the floor, and stuck the tub over his head. “Tell me when it’s over.”

As I hopped up and over to Melody’s seat, I suddenly had a pretty good idea of how kamikaze pilots felt: I was going to die and I didn’t even care. Waiting for her to forgive me wasn’t working; I had to show her I was willing to do anything to win her back.

“Melody,” I said, in my normal voice.

Melody started a bit when she realized I was standing right next to her. “Leon, sit down,” she ordered loudly and angrily.

“Shut up!” someone called.

I knew I should go back to my seat, but I couldn’t. The problem was I couldn’t think of a blessed thing to say.

But someone up above was to give me inspiration. By coincidence or design, I had approached Melody right when Bart Axelrod was giving a passionate speech to his on-screen love. Striking a pose in full view of the packed theater, I faced Melody and mouthed the words I’d heard a dozen times.

“
Babe, take me back. I know I hurt you, honey. I know I did you wrong.
”

Melody cringed and looked like she’d very much rather be somewhere else. Her companions looked from her to me with great amusement.

“I been a loner all my life, babe. I didn’t think I needed no one. But then I seen you up onstage at Chi Chi’s and I can’t think about no one different.”

Melody was blushing through her scars. Several audience members were yelling for me to sit down. Too late to stop now. I continued the monologue.

“I loves ya, darling. I tell you, she didn’t mean nothing to me.”
That got a reaction from Melody, though not exactly a happy one.
“It won’t happen again, sweetcheeks.”

Someone’s half-eaten candy bar pegged me in the side of the head.

“I could be dead in the morning. Let me know you still care.”

By this time, everyone in the theater was watching us. Audience members shouted opinions.

“Take him back!”

“Shut the hell up!”

“Down in front!”

“Dump him; go home with me!”

“Make him beg!”

“You’re my everything….”

I suddenly made full eye contact with Melody, and I hated what I saw. She wasn’t impressed. She was mortified. She looked like I was ridiculing her, which was exactly what I was doing. I had tried to impress her by being goofy, but I’d only managed to draw attention to her and make her look foolish. The thing she’d told me she hated more than anything.

There was no point in going on. Turning away, I trudged out of the theater. Audience members laughed, whistled, and pelted me with popcorn. I didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me run.

I walked out into the cold night air and sat on the curb. She was really gone this time. Just when I thought I couldn’t sink any lower, something like this happened. To top it all off, Johnny had driven me. I had to wait out in the parking lot till the movie was over. My life was in the toilet.

Only it wasn’t, really. I’d had a semester I’d remember for the rest of my life. I’d won the girl of my fantasies and dumped her. I’d taken off a girl’s shirt. I’d eaten a cigarette. And I’d learned that maybe, just maybe, there was something about Leon Sanders that girls liked.

I didn’t turn around when the theater door opened, but I did recognize Melody’s voice.

“Everyone’s going to be talking about that on Monday, you know.”

I still didn’t turn around. “Anything to be popular.”

She sat down on the concrete next to me. “Did you think making a public spectacle of me would win me back?”

“Yes.” I was too miserable to think of any other reason for what I’d done.

“You’re unique; I’ll give you that.”

We sat in silence, not looking at each other.

“Melody?”

“Yes, Leon?”

“Do I stand a chance? At all?”

There was a pause. “As a boyfriend, no.”

“How about as a friend? I miss that.”

“Leon, I want to hate you so much. I want to put you out of my life. I want to say you meant nothing to me. But I really did like being with you. I…Leon, you were my best friend. I’ve never had that before.”

Insert knife into heart, twist.

“Could we go back like that?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“I don’t know. Could we?”

I finally looked in her direction. She was staring at me expectantly. And then it hit me: for one of the few times in my life, I knew exactly what a woman wanted.

She didn’t want lame excuses for my cheating, or promises she wouldn’t believe. She didn’t want public displays of insanity or whining and begging. After several weeks, I finally figured out what it was she needed. I took her hand and she didn’t pull away.

“Melody, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. There’s no excuse, so I won’t justify it. But I really do regret it. I’d like to be your friend again, if you’d let me.”

For the first time since the breakup, Melody smiled at me. It wasn’t her full-force, gorgeous smile, but it was a start.

“Want to buy me a taco, Leon? We can walk from here.”

“I’d like that.” We stood up.

“Do you need to tell Johnny you’re leaving?”

“I think he’d be happy never to see me again.”

We walked on through the crisp spring night in silence. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so relieved. Though she wouldn’t take me back as a boyfriend, at least she’d forgiven me enough to be friends. It was a start…and an ending, it seemed. Dan had been right. Melody had passed through the fire. She was harder. Those special feelings she’d had for me were gone, and I’d have to accept that.

Then again, she was still holding my hand.