“Um . . . the whole thing?”
“Then where am I gonna sit?”
“Oh! I thought we were taking turns.”
“Why would we do that? We can take twice as many rides if we both go.”
All the other times I was out here when Nash was, he was just my neighbor who I saw at school and town events and out on the dock, this boy I used to play with a million years ago. I remember watching him pull some kids in his sled a few years ago, letting them take a bunch of rides. Now he’s my friend and we’re sharing his sled.
“I’ll take the back,” I tell him. “Less scary that way.”
“Don’t worry,” Nash says. “I’ll protect you.”
We get on. I don’t know where to put my legs.
“Here,” Nash goes. He wraps my legs around him so my boots are pressing against the front of the sled. His legs are bent over mine with his knees pointing up near his chin.
He’s like, “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Hang on!”
And we’re off. This is the best hill for sledding because the slope starts out really steep, but then it becomes more gradual, so you can build up scary speed and glide for as long as you want.
The icy air whips by. It feels like we’re about to tip over, so I hold on to Nash. And I don’t let go until he stops the sled.
“Dude!” he says. “That was wild!”
“Totally.”
“Did you want to go farther? I just thought . . . you know, since we have to walk all the way back up—”
“No, I do the same thing. The steep part is the funnest.”
“Exactly.”
We climb back up and sled down again so many times that my fingers are numb and my nose is running. But I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive.
31
Dirty Dirk is everywhere. I don’t know how he does it. He just seems to know everything that’s going on with everybody.
Maybe he has spies. He’s probably one of the rich kids, so he can pay people to spy for him and report back with everyone’s secrets. No one seems paranoid about being spied on, though. Everyone’s loving how you can listen to Dirk almost every night and he always says just what you want to hear.
I never really thought about the way I talk before I started listening to Dirk. But now I’ll be saying something in class, and I’ll stop myself and think how Dirk would say it. Like how I could say it better, the way he always seems to do with the most basic things you think couldn’t be said any other way.
And he knows stuff. A lot of stuff. Stuff you definitely want to hear. He’s so freaking smart about human nature and the way people are. He makes these observations that answer all of the questions you have about why people act the way they do. I swear, it’s like a major revelation every time you listen to his show. Or he’ll talk about the exact same things that have been bothering you recently, like he’s in your head somehow.
Take the other night, for example. Dad was picking me up the next morning to spend the day with me and I’d just had a huge fight with my mom. She keeps pressuring me to talk to her and meet Jack and there’s just no way any of that is happening. So I was thinking about how crazy it was that I went from hating Dad and loving Mom to the other way around, and I already knew I’d be getting zero sleep. I couldn’t stop fixating on how unfair it all was. But then Dirk came on and said how when the parental unit is going crazy, the best way to deal is to remove yourself from the situation immediately.
“The trick is to not get overly involved,” Dirk explained. “Yeah, they’re your parents and yeah, you probably have to live with at least one of them, but that doesn’t mean they have to take over your life. You already have a life. Live it. Let them work out their craziness on their own.”
It made so much sense, hearing it from Dirk. Just because my mom had an affair and my dad moved out doesn’t mean my life is over.
Since it’s almost time for All Talk, No Action to come on, I get ready. I have my Jones Fufu Berry soda and my furry lavender backrest pillow thing. I set everything up on my bed.
Some nights Dirk doesn’t come on. By now, there are so many kids listening to the show that when he doesn’t come on, kids are actually bummed out the next day. But most nights he’s on and you can hear everyone talking about the show the whole next day. That’s because he usually exposes something or someone that deserves to be outed. He totally protects everyone else, especially the kids who are getting a raw deal.
I think the reason why so many of us love Dirk is that when he talks, it’s like we’re venting through him. Like we’re all in this together, feeling the same frustration and pain. It’s so weird how much I rely on him to get me through this freezing February and I don’t even know who he is. I wish there was a way that I could tell him how much he means to me in person. But he remains a mystery. Which bothers us, because everyone loves him and wants to know him for real.
Right at the dot of eleven, music blasts from my computer speakers. He’s on.
“What’s good, y’all?” Dirk says. “Hope you’re hanging right tonight. The communication is piling up here on All Talk, No Action, so let’s get to it.”
You can hear him clicking around on his keyboard. I wish I were sitting there with him, wherever he is, on the other side of the secret.
“‘Hey, Dirk,’” he reads. “‘I’m in love with this gorgeous boy, but I’m not sure if he likes me. I’ve thought about asking him out, but I don’t want to be pushy. We have a class together where he’s not doing so great (I saw his grade on the last paper we got back) and I’m good in that class, so I was thinking of asking him if he wants help with our next paper or something. Do you think I should tell him that I like him? Or should I just do something nice for him so he notices me? Love your show!’
“Dude. If I had a dollar for every time I got an e-mail like this I’d be one rich bastard. Living large in Aruba with my own personal hottie masseuse.
“Let me break this down for you. It’s really simple, once you understand the basics. Fact: Guys are not that complicated. We’re pretty simple animals. We like to sleep and eat and game. We like attention from the ladies, or from the dudes if you swing that way—it’s all good. But too much attention is a turnoff. No one wants to feel crowded. Think about it like this: Does a wild animal like to be trapped in a cage? Yeah, we’re tame. But we still have the same needs.”
Most boys in our class don’t know half this stuff. Or they might know it, but they would never admit it. But Dirk doesn’t care about looking cool or protecting his ego or any of that other insanity fueled by testosterone. He’s just telling it like it is. Reaching out to people who’ve been waiting to connect with someone who gets them.
“Listen. Guys and girls? We’re different. No joke. Just because we’re both types of human doesn’t mean we have much else in common. Which is why, for all the ladies out there in Listening Land, tonight is your lucky night. For one night and one night only, I’m going to expose the cold, hard truth about guys. If every girl could hear how guys really are, your lives would change like that.” He snaps so we can all hear how fast our lives would change. “You’ll save yourselves years of pain and torture if you know how we think. So let’s break it down, shall we?
“First off, girls put way too much effort into something that’s not even anything. They’ll like a guy. They’ll pick up on some clue that they stretch and twist until it magically means that he likes her. And then all of a sudden they’re fixated on this dude who doesn’t even know they exist.”
Okay. How does he
know
all this? Does he have five sisters or something?
“Simplify your lives, ladies. I’ll make it easy for you. I have here”—sounds of a paper being waved around—“a list of things every girl should know. And I want every girl out there to turn it up, call your friends, and pay attention. So let’s give everyone out there a minute to regroup.”
Something I don’t recognize blasts from the speakers. I didn’t realize I was so musically ignorant. I’ve never heard most of the songs Dirk plays.
“If you are female, this one’s for you. And if you’re the proud owner of additional appendages, feel free to disagree.
“How Guys Really Are, by Dirty Dirk. One. You can’t convince a guy to like you. We either feel it or we don’t. This is pretty self-explanatory. There’s no way you can change our minds. Basically, if we like you, you’ll know. And if you don’t—”
My cell rings. I really don’t want to pick up, but then I see that it’s Sterling.
“Hey,” I go.
“Are you listening?”
“Of course.”
“Where was this guy when I needed him?”
“Tell me about it.” I keep the phone pressed to one ear and listen to Dirk with the other.
“Two,” Dirk says. “We hate big emotional talks. We will do anything to avoid any type of serious talk, especially when the talk is ‘about the relationship.’
“Three. Just because a girl is feeling it all seriously on her end doesn’t mean the guy wants anything more than a casual hookup. Don’t assume interest means interest in anything beyond your body.”
“Ouch,” Sterling says. “That’s harsh.”
“I know.”
“I know that sounds harsh,” Dirk says, “but I’m giving it to you like it is. This isn’t sugarcoated so it goes down easier, people. This is the brutal reality all around you and it’s to your advantage to be informed.”
“Can he hear us?” I ask.
“Probably. He already knows everything else.”
“Four. If a girl starts out all casual with a guy and she doesn’t tell him that she wants a relationship, it will never become a relationship. If you give a guy the impression that casual is okay with you, that’s all he’ll ever want. Be straight with him from the start. If he gets scared and runs away, he wasn’t right for you.”
“Totally!” Sterling yells. “It’s all so basic! How could I not
know
this stuff?”
“Five. No guy wants to watch a girl cry. No guy wants to be yelled at for being an asshole. So when girls think we’re scum for dumping them or completely avoiding the breakup talk altogether, it’s actually that we’re preventing torture for everyone involved. We see it like this: By avoiding an emotionally traumatic confrontation, you’ll feel better and so will we. Which relates to item six. When a guy is dumping a girl, all he wants to do is say ‘it’s over,’ and then get the hell out of there. He doesn’t want the girl dragging it out for three hours.”
“Whoa,” I say.
“Seriously.”
“I’m not saying I think the way we are is right,” Dirk goes. “It’s actually pretty messed up. I know we’re slime. But it’s the way we are. So girls have two choices. They can either fight our natural tendencies, or they can go with the flow. And now you know.”
Music blasts again.
“He’s a freaking genius,” Sterling announces.
“It’s some scary stuff, but I’d rather know than not know.”
“Uhhh! Why does it have to be so
complicated
?”
“Seriously.”
“It’s killing me. If I didn’t have Paul, I don’t even know.”
I have no idea what to say about that. Paul is this new guy Sterling’s been talking to online. She’s spending so much time online these days it’s like she’s completely addicted. I want to be supportive and I definitely don’t want to get in a fight about how some sketchy online guy is preventing her from having a real boyfriend, but I can’t force myself to be okay with this. It’s just wrong.
“Are you there?” Sterling asks.
“Yeah.”
“You got quiet.”
“No, I’m just . . . do you know who this is?”
“It’s me, dude.”
“No, the music.”
“Oh. Yeah, I think it’s the Pixies.”
“Who’s that? I’ve never even heard of them.”
“It’s this . . . um . . . yeah, I don’t really know either.”
“Who do you think Dirk is?”
“Like I haven’t been trying to figure that out all year?”
“What grade do you think he’s in?”
“He’s probably a senior,” Sterling goes. “He’s way more mature than any of the chuckleheads in our grade. All I know is, this boy sounds like my ultimate fantasy.”
“Take a number.” I don’t know anyone who doesn’t listen to Dirk now. All the girls are in love and the boys like how he rats out all the evildoers.
“I can’t believe no one knows who he is yet,” Sterling says.
“There’s got to be a way to find out.”
“Yeah, but how?”
“We haven’t thought of it yet. But we will.”
32
I’ve never seen Nash this upset. He’s so upset he can’t even tell me what’s wrong.
He came into Claire’s today. He didn’t even say hi or anything. He just came right up to the register and went, “What time do you get off?” His eyes were all red.
I said, “Uh . . . seven. I get off at seven.”
“Good. Can I come over?”
“Okay. What’s—”
“I can’t talk about it now,” Nash said. “See you later.”
He almost smacked into the glass door when he left, like he didn’t notice it was there. You could see him reach for the handle at the last second.
Nash still isn’t telling me what’s wrong. Which is why we’re just hanging out in my room with Colin Hay playing and nobody talking. Just when I’m getting worried that Nash is having some sort of mental breakdown, he goes, “Rachel broke up with me.”
“Shut up! Why?”
“She said I’m too intense.”
“But intense is good! Girls like intense!”
“Not Rachel.”
“How is intense a bad thing?”
“She said I get emotionally attached too soon. And she’s not ready for that.”
“So . . . then why can’t you just take things slower?”
“I don’t want to take things slower! I’m too intense, remember?”
Someone pounds on my door.
“What?” I yell.
“Your music’s too loud!” Sandra yells from the hall.
“I know!” I yell back.