bag with a blue blazer inside. I looked again, and it was Spence Myers.
Spence Myers with the triple 800s on his SATs and early admission to Georgetown. I clenched up like a fist. It was like I hadn’t really escaped, or made a clean break. I panicked, but fought it.
I pulled me together. What did it matter? As a rule, you can see seniors, but they can’t see you back.
“Kerry?”
We were meeting at the door, stepping out onto the platform. He was pulling the iPod out of his ear. I thought about my hair. The sweatshirt sagged around my waist.
“What are you doing in town?” said Spence Myers like we were old pals. He was editor of the school newspaper. Back at the beginning of the year I’d thought about going out for it, working on staff as a lowly sophomore gofer or something. But then when I got in with Tanya and Natalie and Makenzie, when would I have had the time? I needed to keep my time open. And in fact they were the only way Spence could know who I was. Because I was on the fringes of Tanya’s group.
“I—I’m just coming in to have dinner with my dad,” I said. “We’re taking a late train back.”
It was a Friday night. It made sense. Why shouldn’t I be in town with my dad? I hadn’t thought about needing an alibi. But here one was. It practically jumped out of my mouth.
“You?” I said, like we stopped for a chat in the school hall every day or so.
“Party tonight,” he said. “Then I’m staying over for an interview in the morning,” Spence said. “It’s for a summer internship with a nonprofit. Then back for the prom tomorrow night, and the after-prom thing at Chase’s. Big weekend.”
Huge, I thought, almost losing the thread of why I was here. Why was I here?
“Who are you going to the prom with?” I asked him. It seemed a mature question. While in my head I could hear Tanya saying, “Not Spence Myers. . . . He has some growing up to do.... I’ll get back to him later.” I could hardly hear anything else.
“Bunch of the guys,” he said, “keeping it real.”
I didn’t know where to go with this. He was a senior. He was all about internships and keeping it real and the prom with guys and early admission to—
“How are you doing?” Spence said to me as the gates got closer. “You still seeing the counselor?”
He knew that? I never thought people could see me unless I was with Tanya and Natalie and Makenzie. If then.
“Not anymore,” I said. “Today was the last session.”
“Ah. Well, it’s good if you can move on,” Spence said. “You have to.”
He had. But then, had I ever seen him and Tanya together, just the two of them?
“It was all a mistake anyway,” I said.
And he probably thought I meant seeing the counselor was a mistake. That’s what he probably thought.
WE WERE OUT in the station now, where National Guard soldiers patrolled in camouflage, with guns. People were everywhere, and sound bounced off the marble walls. Now we were crossing the concourse, this gigantic space with more people surging in every direction, swinging laptops, running for trains. Everybody moving from one world to another. And way up above all the stars of the galaxy, all the astrological signs, lit up against the turquoise blue ceiling.
I was a little numb again. It was all Bright Lights, Big City, and I was strolling through it with a major senior guy, so there was nothing particularly real about any of this.
“Your dad in Wall Street?” Spence asked.
“What?” My dad? Wall Street? My dad was in White Plains, miles from here, where he lived and worked. “Oh. Right. Yes, he works on Wall Street.”
Lie Number Two, and Wall Street was downtown. Tanya’s aunt’s apartment was uptown. Two different directions. Two different trains. We were past the big clock and the newsstand now and almost at the subway entrance.
“You?”
“My folks have a place on Sixty-ninth,” Spence said, “Lexington and Sixty-ninth. I’m staying there tonight.”
That
Spence Myers with the triple 800s on his SATs and early admission to Georgetown. I clenched up like a fist. It was like I hadn’t really escaped, or made a clean break. I panicked, but fought it.
I pulled me together. What did it matter? As a rule, you can see seniors, but they can’t see you back.
“Kerry?”
We were meeting at the door, stepping out onto the platform. He was pulling the iPod out of his ear. I thought about my hair. The sweatshirt sagged around my waist.
“What are you doing in town?” said Spence Myers like we were old pals. He was editor of the school newspaper. Back at the beginning of the year I’d thought about going out for it, working on staff as a lowly sophomore gofer or something. But then when I got in with Tanya and Natalie and Makenzie, when would I have had the time? I needed to keep my time open. And in fact they were the only way Spence could know who I was. Because I was on the fringes of Tanya’s group.
“I—I’m just coming in to have dinner with my dad,” I said. “We’re taking a late train back.”
It was a Friday night. It made sense. Why shouldn’t I be in town with my dad? I hadn’t thought about needing an alibi. But here one was. It practically jumped out of my mouth.
“You?” I said, like we stopped for a chat in the school hall every day or so.
“Party tonight,” he said. “Then I’m staying over for an interview in the morning,” Spence said. “It’s for a summer internship with a nonprofit. Then back for the prom tomorrow night, and the after-prom thing at Chase’s. Big weekend.”
Huge, I thought, almost losing the thread of why I was here. Why was I here?
“Who are you going to the prom with?” I asked him. It seemed a mature question. While in my head I could hear Tanya saying, “Not Spence Myers. . . . He has some growing up to do.... I’ll get back to him later.” I could hardly hear anything else.
“Bunch of the guys,” he said, “keeping it real.”
I didn’t know where to go with this. He was a senior. He was all about internships and keeping it real and the prom with guys and early admission to—
“How are you doing?” Spence said to me as the gates got closer. “You still seeing the counselor?”
He knew that? I never thought people could see me unless I was with Tanya and Natalie and Makenzie. If then.
“Not anymore,” I said. “Today was the last session.”
“Ah. Well, it’s good if you can move on,” Spence said. “You have to.”
He had. But then, had I ever seen him and Tanya together, just the two of them?
“It was all a mistake anyway,” I said.
And he probably thought I meant seeing the counselor was a mistake. That’s what he probably thought.
WE WERE OUT in the station now, where National Guard soldiers patrolled in camouflage, with guns. People were everywhere, and sound bounced off the marble walls. Now we were crossing the concourse, this gigantic space with more people surging in every direction, swinging laptops, running for trains. Everybody moving from one world to another. And way up above all the stars of the galaxy, all the astrological signs, lit up against the turquoise blue ceiling.
I was a little numb again. It was all Bright Lights, Big City, and I was strolling through it with a major senior guy, so there was nothing particularly real about any of this.
“Your dad in Wall Street?” Spence asked.
“What?” My dad? Wall Street? My dad was in White Plains, miles from here, where he lived and worked. “Oh. Right. Yes, he works on Wall Street.”
Lie Number Two, and Wall Street was downtown. Tanya’s aunt’s apartment was uptown. Two different directions. Two different trains. We were past the big clock and the newsstand now and almost at the subway entrance.
“You?”
“My folks have a place on Sixty-ninth,” Spence said, “Lexington and Sixty-ninth. I’m staying there tonight.”
That
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