The Trouble with Emily Dickinson by Ken McKowen

spread
wide, “Kyan’s not only good looking, but he’s the captain of the
soccer team and he’s rich. Hello!”
    For the first time since she’d known
Christine, Kendal noticed how annoying the word “hello” sounded as
it left her lips. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not going to
date someone just because he’s the captain of the soccer team and
has money,” she said. “I like to think I have higher standards than
that, thank you.”
    Kendal turned abruptly and began to rummage
underneath her bed in hopes that Christine would go back to
scanning the celebrity gossip columns in her magazines.
    “We are young, Kendal,” Christine continued.
“Who cares about standards? Do you honestly think that I’d be
wasting my time with Jason if I were in college? I don’t think so.
I’d be dating someone who actually had a head on his shoulders that
could be used for something other than heading a soccer ball.”
    She climbed off the bed and slid down next to
Kendal who was still spread out on the floor, and tugged the back
of Kendal’s shirt until she emerged from underneath her bed.
    “Look,” said Christine. “I know Kyan’s a
conceited moron. Everyone knows that. But I also know that you have
been studying like crazy the past couple of weeks and it’s our
senior year. I just don’t want you to regret not having a good time
before college.”
    “Trust me,” said Kendal. “I won’t regret not
hooking up with Kyan, the couch monster.”
    Christine tried to smile or respond in some
fashion but her mouth couldn’t move because the mask had hardened
completely. She left Kendal lying on her back staring up at the
ceiling while she went to wash her face and get dressed in her
cheerleading uniform. They’d be cheering on the soccer players that
afternoon.
    Kendal took a look at her cheerleading skirt
and top, admiring the logo on the front. After the game was over,
everyone else on the squad would start getting ready for another
soccer party. Kendal longed to lock herself in her room and avoid
any and all human interaction. The last thing she needed was
another party, another reason to go on pretending she was something
she wasn’t, another reason for Christine to nag her the next
morning, complaining that she was not having enough fun.
    Fun, she thought. Fun was reading Emily
Dickinson and laughing with JJ. That was the kind of fun she found
herself craving lately.
     
     

CHAPTER 10
     
    Queenie had spent practically the entire
workout talking about her family. JJ figured that once they were
finished with bicep and chest exercises, she would change the
subject. But here they were, finishing up on the treadmill, and
Queenie was still ranting about her parents.
    The athletic center was unusually packed for
a Sunday. Other members of the boys’ and girls’ basketball teams
were finishing up their workouts for preseason, while the soccer
players were working hard to keep themselves at the top of their
game for the playoffs.
    Then there were the regulars who walked along
the track or did the StairMaster for hours while barely breaking a
sweat. The crowd of freshmen who frequented the athletic center was
growing rapidly and was made up mostly of those unlucky individuals
who had gained a few extra pounds and were desperately trying to
reverse the effects of too many midnight pizza runs. They’d taken
the freedom of private school for granted.
    “You should have seen my father,” said
Queenie. “You know how my family can go a little overboard with
money.”
    Overboard, thought JJ. They practically flip
the entire boat.
    “He’s buying the best of everything for my
sister’s wedding, the best caterer, the fanciest ballroom—ugh, it
makes me sick.”
    “So I take it that the plan to bust up the
reception is still on, then.” JJ breathed heavily as they hit mile
three, with one more to go.
    “You know what they say. Weddings in
springtime bring forth love, happiness and gay daughters who want
to