"I'm not saying one way or the other."
"But I can tell."
"How?"
"I just can … I'd know in a second if you weren't."
We were in the cafeteria, at our usual table and Erica was eating a hotdog, the lunch special of the day. I am probably the only living American who doesn't like hotdogs so I had a cheese sandwich on my tray—that and a package of Oreos. "Look," I said, "what I do with Michael is private … it's not something I want to talk about … "
Erica gave me a hurt look. "Sure … okay … "
"Try to understand, Erica … "
"When you're in love you want to keep it to yourself … that's all I'm saying."
"So you really do love him?"
"Yes."
"And he loves you?"
"Yes."
"He actually came right out and told you?"
"Uh huh."
"God … that's romantic!"
"I thought you don't believe in romance."
"I don't," Erica said, slurping up the end of her milk.
We carried our trays to the side table. "Don't you want to know about me and Artie?" Erica asked.
"Well, sure … but I don't want to pry."
"We played strip poker on Saturday night."
"You didn't!"
Erica laughed. "Right down to our birthday suits."
"Suppose your parents had walked in?"
"They respect my privacy."
"So do mine … but still … "
"Anyway, we didn't do a thing but touch. I'm beginning to feel like a therapist."
"You could be doing him more harm than good."
"I've thought about that … but he's very open about his problem. He's not gay … we've determined that. He's just impotent. I've been reading up on it and I'm almost sure I can help him."
"But Erica … if you want to get laid so badly why don't you find somebody else?"
"I could get laid tomorrow," she said, "but that's not the point anymore. I want to make it with Artie."
"Why?"
"Because I think I can help him, for one thing, and because … well, just because."
"I don't know … it still sounds to me like you'd both be better off if you'd just forget it."
"No chance … we really like each other … even though it's nothing like you and Michael … not everybody can be so lucky … "
11
Usually March is a slow month. There aren't any school holidays, the weather is still cold and dreary, the teachers get after you to work harder, and I can't believe that it will ever be spring. This March was different. I felt on top of the world. Michael and I saw each other whenever we could. We went skiing at Great Gorge, twice, and one Sunday we went to Madison Square Garden to a Rangers' game with Erica and Artie. The Rangers lost and Artie took it very hard, as if he'd been personally responsible or something. I tried to cheer him up on our way out of the Garden.
"Win some … lose some … " I said.
Artie shook his head.
"Look … it was just a game."
"Nothing is
just
a game."
"So they'll win next time."
"Next time isn't good enough."
We walked to a Beef & Brew and were seated in a booth. While we were waiting to give our orders Erica said, "Did you know Artie's been accepted at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts?"
"Hey … that's great," I said. "You're really on your way now … "
"On my way nowhere … " Artie said. "My old man won't let me go." Erica turned to him. "You didn't tell me that … "
"Yeah … well … he just made up his mind. It's a four year college or nothing."
"He can't do that," Erica said.
"No … who do you think's paying the tuition?"
"Listen … " I said, "you can major in drama anyway."
"The eternal optimist speaks again," Artie said.
"I'm sorry … I was just trying to look on the bright side of things." I glanced over at Michael, hoping he would come to my rescue but he didn't say anything. I guess he knew about Artie's father already.
"You've got to stand up for your rights!" Erica said. "Refuse to go anywhere but the American Academy … "
"Lay off!" Michael said, suddenly, and something in his voice made Erica stop. All four of us studied our menus then, or pretended to, and the silence in our booth was uncomfortable. Finally the waitress came along and said, "Okay … what'll it be?" Later, when Michael and I were at my house, alone, I said, "I've never seen Artie that way … he was so depressed."
"I know."
"Usually he's all fun and games."
"That's his public image."
"Is the private Artie different?"
"Just sometimes … "
"Did you hear him jump on everything I said?"
"I heard … but I've seen him that way before. Hell be okay in a couple of days. You've got to understand how he feels about school … he really hates it I don't think he'll make it through one year of college, let alone four … "
"I didn't know … "
"It wasn't your fault."
"Do you think he and Erica are good for each other?"
"That's not my business … besides, every girl at school has the hots for him since the play and he's not interested … that must prove something."
"Would you be … interested … "
"Oh, sure. I only go with you because I can't get anything better." He pulled me down next to him. "We can't do anything to help Artie, right now."
"I suppose not … "
"We can help Ralph, though," he said, moving my hand to his belt buckle. On Thursday Michael called to say that Sharon and Ike were taking some time off to go skiing and his parents said, yes, he could miss a week of school, because this was a special occasion, and the three of them were leaving the next morning and wouldn't be back until the following Sunday.
"Ten days?" I said. "Two entire weekends?"
"It's very important, Kath … I'm working towards my instructor's pin … you know that."
"I know … I know … "
That first weekend my parents didn't leave me alone for a minute. You'd have thought I was a widow. They took me out to dinner on Friday night, and on Saturday Jamie and I went shopping. Then Grandma called and asked me to stay overnight at her apartment so I packed a bag and Mom and Dad drove me to New York.
On Sunday morning Grandpa and I went for a walk in Central Park and that afternoon, Grandma took me to see a revival of
Gone With the Wind
, her all-time favorite picture, which she has seen sixteen times, so far. After it, when she asked what I thought of Clark Gable, and I told her that his ears stuck out, she shook her head and said, "I'm disappointed in you, Kath." But I knew she was just teasing. The school week dragged on. Jamie said I looked like a sick dog—well, that's how I felt. At dinner one night my father asked me if I'm going steady with Michael.
"We don't call it
going steady
," I told him. "But we are
going together
."
"Does that mean you can't see anyone else?" he asked.
"That means I don't want to see anyone else."
"I went steady once," Mom said, stirring a teaspoon of honey into her tea. "And I wore his school ring on a chain around my neck. His name was Seymour Mandelbaum."
"Seymour Mandelbaum?" Jamie said and cracked up.
"I was a junior and he was a senior," Mom told us. "I wonder what happened to him." I got the feeling that Mom was talking about her old boyfriend so my father would see that it didn't matter about Michael and me going together.
Then Dad surprised me by saying, "I went steady twice."
"You?" I asked.
"Once when I was in tenth grade … I gave her my I.D. bracelet … and once when I was a freshman in college."
He and Mom started reminiscing about their college days. I didn't tell them that with Michael and me it's different. That it's not just some fifties fad, like going steady. That with us it is love—real, true honest-to-go love.
The next morning, at breakfast, Dad said, "I still think you'd be happier if you weren't tied down to one boy."
"You don't understand," I explained. "I'm not unhappy. I just miss him."
"What about next year?" Mom asked. "You're going to be apart then." My mother's question sent me rushing to my guidance counselor first thing. When she saw me she said,
"Oh, Katherine … I was just working on the final arrangements for Career Day … April 25 is just around the corner."
"This isn't about Career Day," I said.
"Then what?"
"I've got to apply to another school … right away."
"It's late to apply," she said.
"I know … but this is an emergency."
She took my folder out of her files. "Let's see … " she said, thumbing through it, "you've applied to Michigan, Penn State and Denver … all good schools."
"But I really want to go to University of Vermont … either there or Middlebury."
"Why this sudden change?"
"I've got a friend … and we want to be together."
"Have you discussed this with your parents?"
"Not yet … "
"I'll need their permission and even so … I can't promise you anything … Middlebury's tough and Vermont takes their own first."
"I'm sure I can get my parents' permission by tomorrow." But later, when I told Mom, she said, "No!" Just like that. "I don't think that's wise … you've already applied to three schools."
"But Mom … you know what it's like for me this week … being away from him."
"You can see each other on vacations … and even weekends now and then … and if it's that serious between you it'll grow while you're apart."
"You really believe that?" I asked.
"Yes, Kath … I do. And you can always transfer after two years … or he can."
"I thought you'd be on my side," I said.
"I am," she told me.
Just when I was feeling really down, knowing that we can't be together next year, and that now I faced another weekend without him, the phone rang. It was Michael.
"I'm home," he said.
"But today's only Friday."
"I know … I took the train … I got back this morning."
"Wasn't the skiing any good?"
"It was super."
"Then why'd you come back early?"
"Do you really have to ask?"
When I answered the door, two hours later, he took my hand and kind of brushed my cheek with his face.
"Hi," I managed to say.
We went to the 8:00 movie and after it, on the way back to the car, Michael said, "Guess what I have?"
"VD?" I asked, laughing. I expected Michael to crack up over my joke, but he didn't.
"Why'd you say a stupid thing like that?" he said, seriously.
"I don't know … it just popped out."
"That means it's in your subconscious."
"It is not! It was just the way you said it … you sounded like that commercial where the boy calls the girl and then she calls another boy and he … "
"Yeah … I've seen it"
"I didn't mean for you to take it personally."
"Well, I did."
"I'm sorry … "
"I had it once."
We stopped walking and dropped hands. "You had VD?"
"I got it from this girl in Maine … the only time I ever got laid."
"You've only been laid once?"
"Well, twice … but with the same girl."
"That's all?"
"What do you mean,
that's all
! What'd you expect?"
"I don't know … I thought you had lots of experience."
"Yeah, well … the clap turned me off for a while."
"I can imagine," I said. We started walking again, this time without holding hands. "Did you tell the girl in Maine?"
"I couldn't … I didn't even know her last name. She was just somebody I met on the beach."
"Oh."
"Look, Kath … that was last summer … so don't go worrying about it … I'm fine now."
"Who said anything about worrying?" I asked, but I must have looked like something was wrong because Michael said, "Then what?"
"You should never take chances."
"That's easy for you to say … you always think of everything, don't you?"
"I try to … "
We got to the car and Michael unlocked the door. "You probably never took a chance in your life."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, sliding into my seat
"Nothing … forget it." He got in, banged his fists against the steering wheel and said, "Oh, shit!"
"What's wrong?" I asked.