02-Joe

FRIDAY

Pebbles crunched noisily on the pavement as the car rolled to a slow stop in the space. Joe shut off the engine, still in total disbelief at how tired he was. Going to school on a Friday morning in June didn’t seem right at all. It was cruel and unusual punishment. He wished dearly that someone, somewhere, would reevaluate things.

The door swung open with a wretched creak like it always did, and Joe Cunningham stood up amidst a massive yawn. He stood tall and lanky, and teetered slightly like he was still half asleep. He had on his standard T-shirt and jeans ensemble, and his hair was short, brown, and a little messed up—but he looked like he couldn’t have cared less about that. This worked for him, though—many girls seemed to think that his uncaring attitude matched well with the high points of his cheekbones, and that his quick smile brought it all together quite nicely.

So, Joe had that going for him. He’d take it.

He was about to shut the door and move on when he saw a couple approaching, crossing the street from the neighborhood that bordered the school. He squinted, and then a second later grinned in recognition. These two were unmistakable—Mike and Kelly, walking with their arms linked, the two of them merged, their massive, baggy clothing together looking like a giant bundle of walking laundry.

“Hey.” Joe waved to get their attention.

“Hold up, Joe,” Mike called out. He turned to Kelly and they kissed once before breaking away. She walked off with a few of her girlfriends. One of them was Crystal Stevens, and her eyes searched him as she passed, her expression cold.

“Hi, Crystal,” Joe said.

“Hey,” she replied, finally. Her pale face was framed by her jet black hair, and even though she dressed kind of like a hippie, she definitively was not one, considering her attitude that was practical and real. Plus, there was the music she listened to, which included a lot of hard rock and punk. Thus, Joe could never quite figure her out, though he often seemed to want to try.

Both guys watched the girls walk away for a moment. Then, Mike started laughing.

“What?” Joe asked.

“You kill me, bro.”

Mike Marelli wore a black Orioles hat that held back his long hair, a gigantic T-shirt that said Alien Workshop on it, ragged jeans that were several sizes too big, and large, white hi-top Converse. Joe had always been mystified as to why girls seemed unable to resist this dude, and he grudgingly attributed it to his skater look, the fact that he played in a band, and the rest, well, that was surely due to his long hair—all things that Joe did not have.

“What? What’s so funny?” Joe asked defensively.

“You and Crystal. And whatever is going on between you two. It’s hilarious.”

“What? C’mon, dude. We can’t all be like you.”

“Be like me how?”

“I mean…how are you able to talk to girls before it’s even 8 a.m.? Jesus, dude, I can’t even do basic functions right now. It’s taking all that I have just to keep from falling flat on my face.”

Mike grinned. “Let’s go, man.”

They walked alongside one another toward the front doors of the school.

“Speaking of girls…you and Kelly look pretty tight these days,” Joe remarked.

“Aw, dude, she’s awesome. Super chill.”

“Nice. Looks like you got the only one. All these other girls in our school, man…I don’t know.”

“What you talkin’ about, yo?” Mike exclaimed, incredulous. He looked over at Joe as they walked, and grinning, he said, “I heard you was sweatin’ Katherine Lisi.”

Joe stopped dead in his tracks.

“I heard you got it bad for her, too.”

He still couldn’t move, like every muscle in his body malfunctioned simultaneously.

Mike looked back at him, scowling. “C’mon, man. What’s your problem? You lunchin,’ Joe.”

Joe snapped out of it and caught up as quickly as he could.

“Anyway, I thought you and Crystal were hooking up.”

“Who the hell said I was sweatin’ Katherine?” Joe snapped, angrily, like this was a preposterous notion. Even in the moment he knew he was overcompensating.

“Sarah Pratt. She’s always asking me about you and her. That whole crew, Sarah and Nikki and all those girls. They all think you’re sweatin’ her.”

“What the hell? Are these girls just making shit up now?”

Mike laughed. “I don’t know, bro. I wouldn’t put it past ’em.”

“Well, they’re full of it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Katherine is cool and all, but I don’t like her or anything.”

His words felt shaky. Joe knew he was a bad liar.

Mike scowled again. “Whatever, man. I don’t care.”

“Yeah, and, Crystal and I, we…we have nothing going on.”

“Like I said, bro.”

Joe clammed up and walked along as casually as he could, but his eyes showed flashes of panic. His suspicions had just been confirmed—the information was indeed out there. He couldn’t say anything else about it, though—it would only shine the spotlight even brighter upon him. All he could do was keep walking. But it wasn’t easy.

The waves of students moving tiredly all around them thickened as they neared the doors, and then dispersed once more after they passed through. On the concourse, some freshmen and sophomore girls passed by, sharing some stray glances. Mike gave them a nod, and in response received some lively smiles.

“Makin’ some new friends?” Joe asked quietly, eager to change the subject.

“Something like that,” Mike answered.

Joe forced himself to talk more.

“I can’t wait to not have to come here anymore,” he remarked. “We’re on the home stretch, you know?”

Mike nodded. “No doubt, man. Can you believe it’s June already?”

“Yeah. Class has been a joke. Most of my teachers have been mailing it in the last couple weeks.”

Mike laughed. “Do you feel learn-ed, Joe?”

“Dude, if you just stand within my radius, you’ll start getting smarter.”

“Nice.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Joe. I didn’t learn a whole hell of a lot this year.”

“So, what do you think it’s gonna be like next year?” Joe asked. “We’re gonna be seniors. Can you believe that?”

“I guess we’ll be running this place.”

“You mean more so than we already do?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s 1996 and shit just got real.”

“Well, it is now, Joe, but we’re gonna be class of ’97, you know?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I can see how much this all means to you.”

“How much what means to me?”

Mike laughed. “High school.”

“Oh.”

They turned a corner, moving off the concourse and down a hall toward their lockers. It was inexplicable, but Joe found himself about to bring Katherine Lisi back up in the conversation—in the few minutes since her mention, he’d flipped on the matter completely, and now he realized he actually wanted to be found out. He wanted Mike to know. It was a shocking development. He was that desperate, apparently—to the point where he needed help. He needed guidance. He needed a consultant—and Mike was perfect.

But at the last moment, Joe came to his senses, and he diverted the urge. He thought instead back to last weekend, when all this trouble had started. Joe had been out partying—but Mike had not.

“So, why don’t you ever come out any more, dude?” Joe asked. “We were tearin’ it up at Miller’s Park last weekend.”

“What does tearin’ it up mean? Drinking Beast Lite in the woods? In the bushes?” Mike laughed.

“What, are you too good for that now? Too high and mighty to come hang out with us?”

“Nah, just why stumble around in the darkness drinking beer when I can sit on my ass, in my own house, and smoke weed?”

“Ladies were out there, man.”

“Ah, there it is.”

“Yeah, well?” Joe asked.

“I already got my girl, man,” Mike replied calmly.

“You always got a girl, and you never even go out! How is that even possible?”

Mike shrugged. “I’m telling you, man, I’ve found girls are even more interested if you always stay kind of calm and cool. It makes you, like, kind of mysterious, you know? I mean, instead of getting drunk and making an ass out of yourself all the time.”

“But…I’m so good at that.”

Mike chuckled. “Indeed you are.”

Joe looked at him dubiously. “But, I don’t buy it anyway, dude. You could have just said you’re in a band.”

“Well, yeah. There’s that, too.”

“Tell me you’re at least coming to Antwann’s party this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s right. His parents are out of town?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be live.”

“I might stop by.”

“You know you won’t, dude.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“When did you get so old, Mike?”

“It’s called being mature, not old.”

“It’s called being a pothead too lazy to leave his house is what it is.”

“A mature pothead, then. Can we call it that?”

“Sure. Whose weed you smokin’ these days, anyway?”

“Dude, I got some kind shit from Kelly.”

“Damn, dude, why don’t you call a brother up?”

Mike laughed again. “Stop by any time you want, bro. My door’s always open.”

“I will. I’d love to smoke some of that kind. You’re becoming a straight hippie, Mike, you know that? Where’d Kelly get it, by the way?”

“Tech. She visited a couple weeks ago. She said it was like fuckin’ Woodstock down there. They got some nasty, sticky shit though. One-hit kind of shit, you know?”

“Soon you’ll be too good for the mersh around here.”

Mike shook his head. “Doubt that. I’m a whore for bud. I don’t care where it comes from.”

“True. You are a weed-whore.”

“And you’re not?”

“Me? I’m just a whore for…everything.”

“What’s everything?”

“Alcohol, pot, girls…”

“That’s everything?”

“Yeah. What else is there?”

“True.”

“That’s why I’m so busy, see?”

“It’s quite a commitment, Joe. I admire your devotion.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously, bro, it’s good to have you around, man. You’re the glue that holds us all together, you know that? Our whole group of friends. We’d all be fighting and shit if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well…what if I don’t want to be the freakin’ glue?”

“Ha, ha. Tough shit, Joe.”

“Mike!” a female voice screamed.

Both guys turned toward this voice, looking down a perpendicular hallway where a sophomore by the name of Amy Weaver waved and smiled from her open locker. The noise and commotion all around them simply ceased to exist for a moment.

Mike just nodded at her and kept on walking.

“Damn, Mike, since when were you so fresh with her?” Joe asked, in disbelief.

He only shrugged.

“I mean, shit…Amy Weaver? She’s like…the holy grail of the sophomore class, right? I know several guys chasin’ after her.”

“Several guys on the crusade, then? Crusaders? Can we call them that?”

“There you go. Nice one.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep playin’ it off, though, man. Amy freakin’ Weaver, dude. Damn.” Joe looked over at him. “Can I join your band somehow? I’ll play whatever. The triangle, how about that? Do you need a guy standing there, dinging one of those little metal triangles? I could probably figure that one out. How about it? Mike? Does your band need a triangle guy?”

Mike couldn’t reply, because he was laughing too hard.

Joe took a long pause before he spoke again.

It was time, he decided. It was happening.

“I got to stop bullshitting you though, man.”

Mike looked over, sensing a serious note. “Yeah?”

Joe nodded. “Yeah. And you might want to sit down for this.”

“I can’t, dude. We’re standing in the middle of the fuckin’ hallway.” Mike turned toward him. “Just say it.”

Joe exhaled deeply. “This whole time we’ve been talking, I’ve just been trying to think of a way to say it.”

“Say what?”

“It’s true.”

“What is?”

“Everything those chicks were saying.”

“You mean about you and Katherine Lisi?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you are sweatin’ her.”

“It’s more than that, dude. Katherine’s got me lunchin’ like a motherfucker. When she’s around I become like this…waffling idiot. It’s very concerning. It’s very un-me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So—”

“I think I’m in love with her.”

The words came out of his mouth so fast. Joe could feel them still hanging in the air. It felt like a different person had spoken them.

Mike normally was never rattled by anything, but even he returned Joe’s declaration with a look of unmistakable shock.

Shakily, Joe continued. “What should I do, man? Should I like…try to get myself expelled from school?”

Mike chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, man. How about you try and ask her out on a date?”

“Ah, fuck.”