at him. “Easy for you to say.”
“Hey, if I had something somebody wanted, I’d sell it.”
“Then become a prostitute, why don’t you?”
Noah sat up, legs crossed. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?” He grabbed the pillow Franny had tossed at him.
“We’re participating in a scientific study,” she said.
Noah fluffed up the pillow. “You are so delusional.”
“You’re such an elitist.”
Franny looked at Arden. “Eli and I are doing this for tuition. Noah doesn’t even need to be here.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah asked, his voice rising.
“His parents are filthy rich,” Franny explained, ignoring Noah. “They’ll pay for undergraduate and graduate school.”
“Only if I major in some business field. You know that.”
“Your dad would cave.” Franny swung around. “Just take a bunch of core stuff, then pull a switch on him.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“You just want to pretend to be like the rest of us. You want to play poverty. Of course, that kind of thing is more fun when you know you can go back.”
Noah tossed the pillow on the couch and crawled to the boom box. He shut it off, removed the CD, and held it up. “This Boards of Canada CD? Mine.” He put it in a case and stuck it in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. “Fuck you, Franny. I didn’t ask for your psychoanalysis.”
He left, slamming the door behind him.
Franny crossed her arms and sank deeper into the couch. “Baby.”
“Should somebody go after him?” Arden asked. “He was pretty upset.”
“He’ll be back,” Eli said. “Noah’s always going off about something. It used to freak me out whenever he did that. I’d get all worried and concerned and replay everything in my head. Think about what I should have said, then what I’d say next time I saw him. Then he’d come strolling back, acting like nothing happened.”
“Just la-la-la,” Franny said. “He’s such a piece of shit.”
Arden had seen the dynamic before. One of those all-too-common situations of two guys liking the same girl.
Eli had been a little subdued since entering the room. Gone was the gregarious person who’d given her a ride from the airport, and the bouncing boy in the hall. This version of Eli was choosing to remain in the background while the drama played out around him.
Arden looked at Franny. “So, how long have you and Noah been dating?” she asked, vocalizing her assumption.
“Two years,” Franny said. “Part of his hang-up is that I come from a poor family. We’re talking plastic-bags-over-our-shoes-in-the-winter poor. Food-stamps poor and homeless-shelter poor. Noah’s family is rich. Filthy rich. Which shouldn’t be a problem, right? But it is. Noah’s ashamed of how easy his life has been, how easy he’s had it. And he doesn’t completely trust me. In the back of his mind, he worries that I might be playing him for his daddy’s money. That is so gross ! And so not who I am.”
“You did just tell him he could get his whole education paid for,” Eli reminded her.
“Why shouldn’t he? Why should he deliberately make things harder for himself just because he doesn’t think it’s cool to be born into money?” She jumped to her feet, putting up both hands in a double talk-to-the-hand pose. “Okay. I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Arden finished her soda, unfolded herself from the window ledge, and presented her empty cup to Eli. “I’d better get back to my room, try to get some sleep.”
From somewhere came muffled musical notes. Franny dug under a pile of clothes and pulled out a cell phone.
“You’re where?” she asked the caller in disbelief.
She paused for a response, then relayed the information to Eli and Arden. “Noah’s in Cottage 25.”
Arden’s heart thudded the way it always did whenever she heard or thought about Cottage 25.
“He can’t find his way out,” Franny told them. She got back to Noah. “Okay, okay. We’re
“Hey, if I had something somebody wanted, I’d sell it.”
“Then become a prostitute, why don’t you?”
Noah sat up, legs crossed. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?” He grabbed the pillow Franny had tossed at him.
“We’re participating in a scientific study,” she said.
Noah fluffed up the pillow. “You are so delusional.”
“You’re such an elitist.”
Franny looked at Arden. “Eli and I are doing this for tuition. Noah doesn’t even need to be here.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah asked, his voice rising.
“His parents are filthy rich,” Franny explained, ignoring Noah. “They’ll pay for undergraduate and graduate school.”
“Only if I major in some business field. You know that.”
“Your dad would cave.” Franny swung around. “Just take a bunch of core stuff, then pull a switch on him.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“You just want to pretend to be like the rest of us. You want to play poverty. Of course, that kind of thing is more fun when you know you can go back.”
Noah tossed the pillow on the couch and crawled to the boom box. He shut it off, removed the CD, and held it up. “This Boards of Canada CD? Mine.” He put it in a case and stuck it in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. “Fuck you, Franny. I didn’t ask for your psychoanalysis.”
He left, slamming the door behind him.
Franny crossed her arms and sank deeper into the couch. “Baby.”
“Should somebody go after him?” Arden asked. “He was pretty upset.”
“He’ll be back,” Eli said. “Noah’s always going off about something. It used to freak me out whenever he did that. I’d get all worried and concerned and replay everything in my head. Think about what I should have said, then what I’d say next time I saw him. Then he’d come strolling back, acting like nothing happened.”
“Just la-la-la,” Franny said. “He’s such a piece of shit.”
Arden had seen the dynamic before. One of those all-too-common situations of two guys liking the same girl.
Eli had been a little subdued since entering the room. Gone was the gregarious person who’d given her a ride from the airport, and the bouncing boy in the hall. This version of Eli was choosing to remain in the background while the drama played out around him.
Arden looked at Franny. “So, how long have you and Noah been dating?” she asked, vocalizing her assumption.
“Two years,” Franny said. “Part of his hang-up is that I come from a poor family. We’re talking plastic-bags-over-our-shoes-in-the-winter poor. Food-stamps poor and homeless-shelter poor. Noah’s family is rich. Filthy rich. Which shouldn’t be a problem, right? But it is. Noah’s ashamed of how easy his life has been, how easy he’s had it. And he doesn’t completely trust me. In the back of his mind, he worries that I might be playing him for his daddy’s money. That is so gross ! And so not who I am.”
“You did just tell him he could get his whole education paid for,” Eli reminded her.
“Why shouldn’t he? Why should he deliberately make things harder for himself just because he doesn’t think it’s cool to be born into money?” She jumped to her feet, putting up both hands in a double talk-to-the-hand pose. “Okay. I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Arden finished her soda, unfolded herself from the window ledge, and presented her empty cup to Eli. “I’d better get back to my room, try to get some sleep.”
From somewhere came muffled musical notes. Franny dug under a pile of clothes and pulled out a cell phone.
“You’re where?” she asked the caller in disbelief.
She paused for a response, then relayed the information to Eli and Arden. “Noah’s in Cottage 25.”
Arden’s heart thudded the way it always did whenever she heard or thought about Cottage 25.
“He can’t find his way out,” Franny told them. She got back to Noah. “Okay, okay. We’re
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