respect. He just didn’t say for whom. Natalie’s family? Natalie? Too bad she’s six feet under at Lakeview Cemetery.
Natalie used to go crazy when I wore a suit. She said it turned her on. If she’d seen me today, she would have crawled into my lap and started kissing me, unzipping my pants. I can still feel how her fingers wrapped around my dick, her rings clinking together as her hand moved up and down.
I sat on the edge of my bed and reached into my boxers. But then I pulled my hand out and stood up so quickly I nearly blacked out. I may do some asshole things, but I can’t jerk off to a dead girl.
two
Twenty minutes later, I was down in the kitchen eating cold pizza and staring at the speech I was supposed to be reading today. I hate public speaking. It’s crazy because I can wear a skintight singlet and wrestle a guy in front of a large crowd without getting nervous. But make me recite an oral report and I’m pissing my pants.
Coach told me that an English teacher offered to help me write this speech.
“Screw English teachers,” I told Coach. It was only supposed to be three or four minutes. Plus, I hate how everyone acts like you’re retarded if you’re not in honors classes and French club. “I’m going to Fredonia in the fall. I know how to put some words together.”
“Good luck, Shakespeare,” Coach said, slapping my back.
It turns out three minutes is a long time. Also, what do you say about a girl you were on the verge of breaking up with when she died? I spent a week typing pathetic attempts, deleting them, and snapping at whoever had the misfortune of talking to me. Finally, I was at work one night, a few days ago. I’d been stocking milk in the dairy section and happened to say a few choice words to the forklift driver, who then went and complained to my boss. When my boss asked me what was up my ass, I told him about the speech for Natalie.
“Use specific examples,” he’d advised. “People like that shit. Oh, and lay off the cursing when you’re on the job.”
Once I’d finished unloading the heavy cream, I’d grabbed an invoice out of a crate and drafted my speech on the back. As soon as I got home, I shoved it in the folder that the principal gave us, with all the information about today’s ceremony, and didn’t look at it again until today.
I should probably practice it once or twice , I thought as I washed down my pizza with some Coke. Maybe even time myself . I glanced at the clock on my phone,and began reading out loud:
“Natalie Birch and I were going out since fall of junior year. She was a great girl and a talented cheerleader. Everyone who met Natalie loved her. She was really funny and she always made people laugh. Also, she wasn’t scared to say what was on her mind, especially to guys like me. And she’d kill you if you called her Nat, so don’t even try.
“Natalie was always the one to decorate your locker on your birthday and bake you cookies and text you all day. Sometimes she’d get mad at me if I forgot our anniversaries, but then she’d make me buy her something expensive. That was something else about Natalie. She liked shopping and she definitely liked nice things.
“Another thing about Natalie is that she once told me she wanted to be remembered forever. By putting up this plaque today, I guess that’s going to happen.”
As soon as I was done reading, I checked the time. One measly minute. Fuck.
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the name and then quickly grabbed it before it woke up my dad again.
“What’s up, Mom?”
“Hey, Dakota. Are you awake yet?”
“Uh, no. I’m fast asleep.”
“But it’s seven-oh-five!” she said. “School starts in half an hour.”
“I’m joking, Mom. I’m about to leave.”
She was quiet, stewing. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Yet another bonding moment in our relationship.
“I wanted to remind you to call Pauline,” she said after a moment. “It’s her birthday.”
I forgot
Natalie used to go crazy when I wore a suit. She said it turned her on. If she’d seen me today, she would have crawled into my lap and started kissing me, unzipping my pants. I can still feel how her fingers wrapped around my dick, her rings clinking together as her hand moved up and down.
I sat on the edge of my bed and reached into my boxers. But then I pulled my hand out and stood up so quickly I nearly blacked out. I may do some asshole things, but I can’t jerk off to a dead girl.
two
Twenty minutes later, I was down in the kitchen eating cold pizza and staring at the speech I was supposed to be reading today. I hate public speaking. It’s crazy because I can wear a skintight singlet and wrestle a guy in front of a large crowd without getting nervous. But make me recite an oral report and I’m pissing my pants.
Coach told me that an English teacher offered to help me write this speech.
“Screw English teachers,” I told Coach. It was only supposed to be three or four minutes. Plus, I hate how everyone acts like you’re retarded if you’re not in honors classes and French club. “I’m going to Fredonia in the fall. I know how to put some words together.”
“Good luck, Shakespeare,” Coach said, slapping my back.
It turns out three minutes is a long time. Also, what do you say about a girl you were on the verge of breaking up with when she died? I spent a week typing pathetic attempts, deleting them, and snapping at whoever had the misfortune of talking to me. Finally, I was at work one night, a few days ago. I’d been stocking milk in the dairy section and happened to say a few choice words to the forklift driver, who then went and complained to my boss. When my boss asked me what was up my ass, I told him about the speech for Natalie.
“Use specific examples,” he’d advised. “People like that shit. Oh, and lay off the cursing when you’re on the job.”
Once I’d finished unloading the heavy cream, I’d grabbed an invoice out of a crate and drafted my speech on the back. As soon as I got home, I shoved it in the folder that the principal gave us, with all the information about today’s ceremony, and didn’t look at it again until today.
I should probably practice it once or twice , I thought as I washed down my pizza with some Coke. Maybe even time myself . I glanced at the clock on my phone,and began reading out loud:
“Natalie Birch and I were going out since fall of junior year. She was a great girl and a talented cheerleader. Everyone who met Natalie loved her. She was really funny and she always made people laugh. Also, she wasn’t scared to say what was on her mind, especially to guys like me. And she’d kill you if you called her Nat, so don’t even try.
“Natalie was always the one to decorate your locker on your birthday and bake you cookies and text you all day. Sometimes she’d get mad at me if I forgot our anniversaries, but then she’d make me buy her something expensive. That was something else about Natalie. She liked shopping and she definitely liked nice things.
“Another thing about Natalie is that she once told me she wanted to be remembered forever. By putting up this plaque today, I guess that’s going to happen.”
As soon as I was done reading, I checked the time. One measly minute. Fuck.
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the name and then quickly grabbed it before it woke up my dad again.
“What’s up, Mom?”
“Hey, Dakota. Are you awake yet?”
“Uh, no. I’m fast asleep.”
“But it’s seven-oh-five!” she said. “School starts in half an hour.”
“I’m joking, Mom. I’m about to leave.”
She was quiet, stewing. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Yet another bonding moment in our relationship.
“I wanted to remind you to call Pauline,” she said after a moment. “It’s her birthday.”
I forgot
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