Matters of Circumstance (10 page)

“Jesus, I’m sorry I brought Sumalt up,” said Michael, propping his chin up on his elbow and physically leaning away from the discussion.

Farrah sighed, but didn’t think she had any reason not to talk about it except for her own personal reservations. “Basically, what happened was I met this middle-aged couple at work yesterday, and I judged them too harshly,” she said, and only as the words left her did she realize that, when you put it like that, it really was a stupid thing to argue over. “Neal was trying to get me to see that, and I was being stubborn.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t about you two and your issues at all.”

“No.”

Ruby seemed relieved, but Andrea laughed inexplicably. “That’s such an innocent conversation, and here we are interrogating you like it was a huge deal,” she said.

“Yeah, it really wasn’t anything worth gossiping over,” said Farrah with a casual shrug. “I just didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

“Why didn’t you like them, anyway?”

She gestured helplessly. “I don’t know. They weren’t actually doing anything wrong, I was just being dramatic or something.” Which was really the gist of it.

“Wow, that’s seriously anticlimactic.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” This was why Farrah didn’t gossip. People saw things and automatically thought the worst.

Not to mention the fact she was really,
really
done with talking about her personal life.

“Well, I’m personally glad it wasn’t anything bad,” said Ruby supportively. “I think you guys are good with each other.”

“Thanks, Rube,” Farrah said with a genuine smile. She had actually been hearing that a lot these days, but it actually felt like a compliment when Ruby said it. She hadn’t expressed her opinion of Neal and Farrah’s relationship before this, and while Farrah probably didn’t say it enough she did value Ruby’s opinion.

“That’s all fine and good, but can we have a funny conversation now?” Michael said loudly. “This girl-talk shit is seriously boring.”

Andrea turned to look at him. “Nobody’s forcing you to be here,” she said. “If you want guy-talk, then talk to your guy friends.”

Michael was about to retort, but then someone said, “Actually, I forgot to tell you guys what happened to me at the party last weekend…”

Immediately Michael was asking about it, and soon conversation about Farrah and Neal was long forgotten.

Whether Michael had done it for her or himself was unknown, but Farrah was grateful for the subject change all the same. She didn’t think anybody knew just how uncomfortable that conversation had made her. Private things were never actually kept private in high school, were they?

Sometimes she wished she wasn’t such a pushover.

“Neal, I’ve got something to tell you…”

“Oh man, another thing?”

School had just gotten out, and they were walking towards the buses together, but now Farrah stopped in mid-step and frowned, only partially serious about it. As she stared at him she hoped that he felt slightly ashamed of himself.

For his part, Neal was trying hard not to laugh at her. So much for shame. “Okay, okay, what is it?” he said, grabbing her by the arm and encouraging her to keep walking. She obliged, but that was only because she didn’t want to miss the bus.

She opened her mouth to say, but then he interrupted, “But before that, quick question: why do you ride the bus when you have a full, no-restrictions license
and
a car?”

Farrah rolled her eyes as they got into the line of high school students filing into the bus. “Fuel economy,” she replied. “If I drive, I have to pay for gas, but this way it’s basically free. I’m cheap like that.”

He thought about this for a moment, doing that man-hug and greeting friends as they passed in the meanwhile. Farrah wasn’t intending to, but somehow she ended up doing the same thing as she waited for him to respond.

“Okay, it makes sense in a cheapskate sort of way,” he said finally, just as they ascended the bus steps. “But if
I
were you—”

“—Which you’re not—”

“—I would totally take advantage of having a full license, even if I did have to pay for gas. It’s not like you don’t have a job to pay for it.” That said, he dropped into an empty seat and scooted over for her. “Hey, do you think I’ll get busted for not even trying to hide how I’m sneaking onto your bus?”

Farrah sat down and reflected that he had phrased his question rather humorously. Were the bus drivers not supposed to care if you made an effort to be inconspicuous? A part of her wanted to comment on that, but instead she said, “I don’t get caught when I sneak on yours. I don’t think the drivers care anymore.” Then, more to the current point, “Speaking of which, why haven’t you gotten your license yet? You don’t even have to do driver’s education at this point.”

Neal shrugged. “I don’t know, it just seemed like too much of a hassle—besides.” He grinned widely. “I’ve got a perfectly good bus pass, and everybody else I know drives and doesn’t mind giving me rides.”

“Wait.
Don’t
you know how to drive?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t have the fancy card to prove it.”

Well, that was a relief. “Oh, okay, because for a moment there—”

“Hey Farrah,” said Andrea Barbados as she sat across the aisle next to Sally Salome, who only waved. The bus started on its sluggish way as Andrea settled.

“Oh, hi guys,” said Farrah companionably. “How’re things going?”

“I’m freaking psyched about prom,” Sally said with a predictable amount of excitement in her voice. “You?”

Then Andrea noticed who Farrah was sitting next to. “Oh my god, Neal, don’t tell me you’ve rode this bus the whole year and I never noticed.”

He laughed. “Nah, Farrah just doesn’t like driving to her own house,” he said conversationally, leaning forward to talk around her.

“I told you,” Farrah said, unable to stop herself from reacting to the poke. “I’m cheap. I’m saving money by doing this.” And then to Sally, “Me too. How’s Hunter?”

Hunter was Sally’s boyfriend, and a senior (which explained how she was going to senior prom). He was also a first string linebacker on the school’s football team. Farrah had had a few conversations with him at parties before, but she didn’t know him very well.

“Not as excited as I am,” Sally replied.

“It’d be a little fruity if he was going on and on about prom, anyway. What’s your dress look like?”

Of course, Farrah knew that she was probably not going to go, but prom always made for good conversation, so she was rolling with it. She could be excited that others were going to have a great time, couldn’t she?

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked me,” Neal drawled in a girly voice. “Mine is long and pink with, like, sparkles
everywhere
. I get hot just thinking about it.” And he pretended to fan himself.

“Ooh, sounds nice. Is it a halter top?” asked Andrea, playing along.

“Ugh,
no.
I’m totally going strapless this year.”

“That sounds so cute,” Sally said through a giggle.

“It is, but
Farrah.”
He looked over at her as if there was some longstanding dispute going on. “Doesn’t want to wear a matching tie.”

Both of Farrah’s acquaintances feigned gasps of horror.

“How rude—the one thing you ask, right?” said Sally.

“I should’ve warned you she could be an ass,” said Andrea with a playful smirk.

“I don’t care who you drag into this, Neal,” Farrah said, pretending to be annoyed. “I am
not
wearing pink.”

At that point Sally lost control and burst out into laughter, which caused Neal and Andrea to snicker (there was just something about Sally’s from-the-gut laugh that made everybody else join her). Even Farrah, who thought the whole conversation was utterly ridiculous, couldn’t resist a chuckle or four.

Conversation continued to be fun right up until Farrah’s stop, which really put her in good spirits. Then, as the bus steamed away the reality of the reason that Neal was with her bogged her down like her backpack during finals week. All of a sudden her heart was beating one-hundred times per second and her hands were clammy. She shoved them into her pockets of her hoodie and kicked at a bottle cap someone had dropped onto the sidewalk.

Neal, walking beside her, asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? You were fine two seconds ago.”

“Just nervous, is all,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on the bottle cap.

“You’re nervous? But I thought you said this wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“It shouldn’t be,” she said, forcing confidence into her voice.

“So what’s got you like this? Not to make you feel even worse or anything, but it’s kind of making me jumpy.”

Funny, he certainly wasn’t acting like it. “I’ve never done this before. Not with someone like you.”

“Like me?” He wasn’t sure what to make of that, she could tell.

“Not
you
specifically, but…” She kicked the bottle cap extra hard, feeling her face flame in the slightly chilly air. “I like you a lot,” she said quietly. “And I want this to go well, but I’m afraid that it won’t, somehow, even though it shouldn’t.”

“Aw, Farrah.” Neal put his arm about her shoulders and tucked her into his side as they walked. He wasn’t quite tall enough to do it comfortably, but she still thought the gesture was nice. “If that’s all there is to worry about, then don’t. Things will go just fine.”

Neal really wasn’t the type of guy you had to worry about introducing to your parents, all things considered. He was the sort of guy parents
wanted
their daughters to know. Even if he wasn’t, her parents were decent individuals and had always supported her, no matter what she got herself into.

“I don’t actually think it’ll go badly—”

“Then stop stressing about it,” he said, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “We’ll walk in, get it over with, and do homework or something.”

“As riveting as that schedule sounds,” she said with a small smile that Neal was quick to echo. “They probably won’t be home until about five-thirty -ish.”

“Then we’ll do homework first, I’m flexible,” he said, letting her go. “Do you make dinner at your place, or do they do that?”

“It depends on the day, if someone has something in mind or not,” she said, tentatively relaxing again. “But most of the time I start it and they finish.”

“Cool, I can help with that.”

It was around then that they reached her house. Right after entering, Neal stopped and looked around with wide eyes. He whistled appreciatively. “Wow. This place is so
organized.”

Considering that his house was cluttered and forever buzzing with life, this probably looked like a vacant hotel or something. From the front door you could see the 52” flat-screen TV with the impressive movie collection filling the bookshelves on either side of it, and the two loveseats angled in front. Everywhere you looked there were attractive silk flower arrangements or family photos.

You could also see the long, fancy-looking pine table that her parents used for dinner parties and family visits but little else, with the glass cabinets of the fine china standing in the corners and the nice mini-chandelier hanging over it all. On the walls here were her Uncle Jeffry’s original paintings, which her father thought could give Picasso a run for his money. Every time they got a new one the whole interior design of the room changed to accent it.

The rooms were attractive, to be sure, but Farrah probably did things in them about five times a year at the most.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad are neat freaks like that, I guess. Nobody ever actually spends time in these rooms,” she said, going into the mostly stainless-steel kitchen through the dining room and dropping her backpack onto her chair at the modest dinner table in there. “You want anything to drink?”

“Sure, water would be great.” Still with his own bag dangling from his shoulder, Neal came up behind to watch her (presumably to figure out where everything was). “And you seriously don’t use your living room at all? You’ve got an effing incredible TV in there.”

“It’s mostly superficial. I’m much more comfortable in my room.” She handed him his water and proceeded to pour her own from the refrigerator dispenser.

“That’s so crazy. It’s like—like a TV show, or Better Homes and Gardens magazine,” he said, looking around the kitchen with its steel appliances and dark granite counters with something like awe. This was a major change from the bright color and simplicity of his house, and just thinking about the contrast made Farrah think that she should be wearing a cocktail dress.

“What do you know about those magazines?” she asked teasingly.

“Enough to liken them to your house.”

“I know, it’s pretty bad.” She opened the fridge in search of snacks, but found none. Maybe there was something in the freezer.

Nope, just some funny-tasting veggie chips.

“Well, I’m not the best judge,” said Neal. “But so far I have to agree.”